Knave of Hearts

It was time to get out the ancient twin-tub again and battle with the laundry, she thought with a sigh. There was no chance it would dry outside with the weather as cold as it was, which meant either a trip to the launderette or having everything hanging around the house on airers for days on end.

And there was no food in the house.

She went down to the kitchen and looked in the cupboards, like old Mother Hubbard.

Cereal, but not enough milk to go on it. Sunflower spread, but no bread. Porridge oats, but Beth wouldn’t eat porridge without syrup, and guess what?

The doorbell pealed, shockingly loud in the stillness.

She heard Beth throw herself down the stairs.

‘I’ll get it!’

Anne shook her head and went out into the hall.

‘Hi, Jake!’ Beth said with a grin. ‘Come in!’

He ruffled her hair, and looked over her head to Anne.

‘Morning, ladies. I brought some hot doughnuts—I’m sure you hate them and would much rather have toast, but perhaps you’ll help me eat them up?’

‘Ye-es!’ Beth positively bounced on the spot, her eyes alight.

Anne was irritated. ‘I know I said invite yourself round,’ she hissed while Beth was preoccupied with the baker’s bag, ‘but I never mentioned breakfast!’

‘Seven,’ Beth said, and then screwed up her face. ‘Two each—who gets three?’

‘I do,’ Jake told her, and poked his tongue out.

‘Don’t teach her things like that,’ Anne snapped.

Beth giggled. ‘That’s very rude, you shouldn’t do it!’

He pretended to look chastened while Anne found three plates and set them down at the rickety table.

‘Coffee?’ he suggested.

‘It’ll have to be black. Beth, do you mind squash?’

She shook her head. ‘Are we going shopping today? There’s never any food here.’

Anne could have ground her teeth with annoyance.

‘That’s not strictly true,’ she said defensively, but Jake leant back in his chair, sank his teeth right into the jammy middle of his doughnut and smiled with evident delight.

‘I’ll take you shopping,’ he offered, and before she could stop herself Anne told him not to talk with his mouth full.

He choked with laughter, and Beth banged him on the back until he got his breath back and caught her wrists, tugging her on to his lap.

‘Enough already!’ he said, still laughing. ‘You’ll break my ribs!’

She giggled, reached across the table and picked up her doughnut, quite content to stay on his lap.

Over her head, Anne met his eyes, and the depth of emotion in them brought a lump to her throat.

She sipped her coffee and stole another glance. They were so alike! Not just in looks, although to see them together there was no mistaking their relationship, but in personality too. Fun-loving, with an overdeveloped sense of the ridiculous, always quick to laugh and ready to forgive—without Beth to take his place, Anne wondered how much more she would have missed him in the last seven years.

She stood up and cleared her throat. ‘We ought to get on,’ she said. ‘It’s almost time to drop Beth at Jenny’s, and we have to be at the hospital soon.’

He left them then, and they had a last mad scramble round for satchel and reading book and gloves before they were ready to walk out of the door.

He was waiting for them, his breath misting on the cold air, lounging against his car in a thick leather jacket. Anne tugged her coat closer round her and forced a smile.

‘I’ll just drop Beth off with Jenny, and I’ll be with you.’

‘Hurry up, then, you’re on the drag,’ he pointed out needlessly.

She stifled her retort until she had delivered Beth safely across the road, fielded Jenny’s intense curiosity and installed herself in the front of Jake’s car beside him. Then she turned on him and pointed out with icy calm that it was he who had delayed them at breakfast, and if he hadn’t stolen a piece of her car he wouldn’t be obliged to give her a lift anyway!

He didn’t bother to reply, concentrating instead on guiding the car over the icy roads.

It was only when he had parked and she got out rather too fast that she realised the road was just a sheet of ice.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked as she picked herself up.

‘Fine. Do you mind if I don’t thank you for the lift?’

He stifled the grin hastily. ‘My pleasure,’ he replied easily, and, taking her arm, he led her to the gritted path.

Once there and safe, she snatched her arm away ungraciously and, head up, marched to the entrance without looking back.

He followed her, his footsteps scrunching on the grit. They parted company at the entrance to the wards, he to Gynae, she to Obstetrics.

‘Coffee later?’

‘I should be so lucky,’ she muttered.

He shrugged. ‘OK. I’ll see you.’

As it happened she did manage a coffee break, but, as luck would have it, so did Jake and they arrived together at the canteen.

‘Wonders will never cease,’ he said teasingly as he joined her in the queue. ‘Two coffees, please.’

He paid for hers, dismissing her protest, and picked up both cups, scanning the room.

‘Ah, there’s Maggie—let’s go and say hello.’

Anne was startled. ‘How do you know Maggie?’

‘Met her at Jo’s.’

Did everybody but her know about Jake coming? She looked across the room at her friend, and then blinked. She was sitting on an armless easy chair, but not alone. A tall, blond man with drop-dead good looks was sharing it with her, his arm possessively round her shoulders, and they both looked like they’d won the pools.

‘Hello, Maggie, nice to see you again,’ Jake was saying, and pulled up two chairs. ‘Is there a reason for the overcrowding?’ he asked mildly, his eyes twinkling.

Maggie laughed, her soft pansy-blue eyes filled with happiness.

‘We happen to like it,’ her companion said with a wicked grin, and stuck out his hand. ‘Ben Bradshaw, A and E.’

‘Jake Hunter … I’m covering for Jo Harding—sorry, Carter. I’ve known her a long time; it’ll take me a while to get used to the change. Jo and Annie and I go back—oh, eleven years?’

Annie nodded. ‘Something like that.’ She eyed Maggie and Ben suspiciously, but she had no intention of asking what she wanted to ask in public. The last time she’d seen Maggie, she’d been breaking her heart because Ben was getting married—in fact, he should have done so last Saturday, so why was Maggie sitting so close to him now that she was getting pressure sores?

Then she saw the ring.

‘Catching flies?’ Jake murmured, but she ignored him.

‘Would someone care to tell me what’s going on?’ she asked.

Maggie tried to hide her smile. ‘Fancy coming to a wedding on Saturday week?’

‘But I thought …’

The smile broke out regardless. ‘So did I, but I was wrong.’

Annie shook her head. ‘Would you run that by me again?’ she said plaintively.

Maggie laughed delightedly. ‘You know I overheard Ben and Jan planning a wedding?’

‘Yes?’

‘Jan’s his stepsister. She got married on Saturday.’

‘But not to Ben?’

Maggie shook her head.

‘So the ship’s rat’s not a rat at all?’

‘Ship’s rat?’ Ben said indignantly.

Anne blushed. ‘Sorry, just a figure of speech—Jo’s, actually.’

Jake laughed. ‘I’m not sure I quite understand what’s going on, but do I take it that congratulations are in order?’

Ben chuckled. ‘Yes, thank God. I never want to go through a time like that again. It took me five minutes to fall for her, and then another five weeks to persuade her to marry me—that’s when I could finally get her to listen.’

Jake gave a wry snort of amusement. ‘Is that all? You want to try courting Annie—after eleven years she still won’t marry me, even though she knows how wonderfully easy I am to live with,’ he said mournfully.

‘You jest!’ Anne retorted.

Maggie was wide-eyed. ‘You lived with him?’ she said incredulously.

‘Not precisely,’ Anne mumbled.

‘Yes, you did—precisely. You just wouldn’t marry me.’

She glared at Jake, and he shrugged and smiled.

Ben shook his head. ‘Must be something wrong with your technique, old man.’

‘After all the practice he got in? No chance,’ Anne said drily, and then blushed furiously at the others’ laughter.

She was rescued by the sudden bleeping of her pager.

‘Saved by the bell,’ Jake said with another chuckle, and, with a mumbled excuse, she fled.

CHAPTER THREE

‘ROSS HAMILTON’S wife Lizzi has just been admitted in early labour,’ Sister told Anne as she arrived on the ward in answer to her summons. ‘I’ve put her in the first single, next to my office. I wonder if you could clerk her for me, Anne?’

‘Sure.’

She tapped on the door of the little room and entered, smiling a welcome to the slender but extremely pregnant woman perched on the bed.

‘Hello, there. I’m Anne Gabriel, Alex Carter’s SHO. I’ve just come to check you in.’

Lizzi smiled. ‘Check away.’

‘OK.’ Anne ran through the list of questions, receiving prompt, precise and intelligent answers.

‘You’ve done this before,’ she accused with a laugh.

‘Several times—I was a ward sister until maternity claimed me. That’s how I met Ross.’

Recognition dawned. ‘You were the ones with the cartoons—sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t mention them.’

Lizzi laughed. ‘They were only meant in fun. We collected them all and Ross had them framed for his study at home.’

Anne nodded as it came back. Apparently there had been a long series of hilarious cartoons following their budding romance, pinned on the bulletin board in the canteen, and by all accounts some of them had been pretty close to the knuckle. ‘It was his registrar, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s right—he’s now doing freelance cartoons for medical magazines, and earning a fortune, so he tells us. Never mind, we’ll get our own back on him—he’s doing Ross’s list this afternoon!’

Anne laughed.

‘Right, let’s have a look at you and see how you’re doing—have you had an internal yet?’

‘No, we’ve only just arrived.’

Behind them the door opened and closed, and Anne glanced over her shoulder. A tall, good-looking man had come in, dressed in typical consultant’s uniform of grey suit and sober tie, but most remarkable for the shock of prematurely silver hair above his lively grey-green eyes.

‘I’ve sorted Mitch out for this afternoon. How’re you doing?’ he asked his wife, the soft Scots accent adding a gentle lilt to his concern.

‘OK. This is Dr Gabriel—I think she’s just going to do an internal. Are you staying or going?’

He laughed. ‘Staying. I’m too old to shock!’

‘Poor old man—what it is to be nearly forty,’ Lizzi teased gently.

Anne hung the chart back on the end of the bed and smiled. ‘OK, how frequent are the contractions?’

‘Every twenty minutes or so? I had one just before you came in.’

‘Still widely spaced, then. How about your waters? Have they broken yet?’

Lizzi spluttered and tried to hide her laughter.

Ross heaved a great sigh. ‘I really think she hates my car. The first time she clapped eyes on it she rammed it in the side, and now this, the final indignity!’

Lizzi pretended to be wounded. ‘I think your car hates me,’ she countered. ‘Every time I go near it it causes a row. Actually,’ she told Anne with a twinkle, ‘I think it’s jealous of me.’

Ross snorted. ‘I’m going to sell the damn thing and buy a Land Rover, I think. It’s the only vehicle tough enough to withstand Lizzi’s attention!’

Anne laughed, and turned back to Lizzi. ‘Perhaps you could slip out of your clothes and put on a gown while I go and find a midwife, and then we’ll give you a thorough check and see how you’re getting on.’

She pulled a face. ‘Do I have to wear a gown?’

‘No, I don’t suppose so. Do you have an alternative in mind?’

‘I brought one of Ross’s old shirts—Jo said something about the birthing-room, and I was hoping …’

‘OK, that’s fine. You can do whatever you want. This is your labour, after all. Just pop it on so we can have a look at you, and then you can have a shower. I’ll just go and find your notes.’

She left them with a smile, and went back to the nursing station.

Opening the notes, she flicked through them, and groaned.

Under pelvic assessment, Jo had written, ‘Possible disproportion—induce 40/40 latest, trial of labour—?android pelvis.’

So Jo had been worried enough not to want her to go past term, and by the sound of it she wasn’t confident that Lizzi would deliver normally.

She decided to call Jake—at least in his posh New York practice he would have had plenty of experience with Caesarean sections!

She picked up the phone, called the switchboard and asked them to page Mr Hunter. Seconds later she heard the sound of a bleep on the ward, and Jake appeared at her side.

‘Excuse me,’ he murmured, and reached past her for the phone.

‘It was me—I need you,’ she told him.

‘I never thought I’d hear you say that,’ he said under his breath, and then told the switchboard operator that he’d been found while Anne dealt with the flush rising on her cheeks.

‘So, what’s the problem?’ he asked, his eyes tracking laughingly over her still-pink face.

‘Apart from your innuendoes?’

‘I was only teasing.’

‘And downstairs with Maggie and Ben? God knows what they think.’

He smiled wolfishly. ‘They think we were lovers—which we were.’

‘Once,’ she retorted repressively. ‘We have a patient. Consultant’s wife, nursing sister—here are the notes. Looks like one for the big shots.’

He ran his eye over the notes and winced. ‘Ouch. Rather her than me. OK, let’s have a look. Have you examined her yet?’

Anne shook her head. ‘I thought I’d check the notes first, but in any case I’d rather you handled it.’

‘Chicken,’ he said softly.

She shook her head. ‘No, just deferring to your experience. I know my limitations.’

He snapped the notes shut and tucked them under his arm, and then, accompanied by the midwife who would be monitoring Lizzi during her labour, they went into the little side-ward.

Lizzi was sitting up cross-legged on the bed, dressed in a voluminous old cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and leg-warmers round her ankles. Her husband was perched on the edge of the bed, and they were laughing softly at something he had said.

Jake introduced himself, shook hands with both of them and then perched on the bed himself.

‘Right,’ he said to Lizzi, ‘what did Jo Carter tell you?’

‘That I might have problems and shouldn’t go over term. Ross’s other children by his first wife were fairly hefty, I gather.’

Jake nodded. ‘OK. Well, as you must know, you’re very slightly built, although you’re tall, so before this goes any further we need to be fairly sure that you’re going to be able to complete the delivery.’

Lizzi sighed. ‘I had hoped it would be all right—in fact I’m not due for another twelve days. Jo even rang me at home and said she’d be back in time, and I’d be first on her list.’

Jake smiled. ‘Well, you beat her to it, but it’s probably just as well. The smaller the baby is, the easier it’ll be, and it’s plenty old enough now. This is your first, isn’t it?’

She nodded.

‘Is there a recent scan? I wonder if it would be a good idea to do one this morning if not.’

‘I had one at thirty-six weeks.’

‘Mmm.’ Jake pursed his lips, thoughtfully, and then put down the notes with a decisive snap. ‘Let’s have a look first before we make any decisions—how are the contractions?’

‘The last gap was ten minutes,’ Ross said quietly.

Jake nodded. ‘Good, they’re picking up.’ He washed his hands thoroughly, pulled on a pair of gloves and began to examine her.

‘Well, your cervix is dilating nicely, about six centimetres, and the head’s certainly well down. I just want you to relax as much as you can, Mrs Hamilton. I’m going to try and push the baby down to see how snug the fit is. It may be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt.’

With one hand on the smooth curve of the baby’s bottom, he pushed steadily down, his brow creased with concentration. After a few seconds, he released the pressure, straightened up and stripped off his gloves.

‘Well,’ he said, as he rewashed his hands, ‘it’s certainly going to be close, but the presentation is excellent, and I think you should manage it.’ He dried his hands and smiled reassuringly at Lizzi. ‘I’ll order a scan now, just to be on the safe side, but I’m pretty confident you’ll be all right.’

They left Lizzi with the midwife, and a few seconds later Ross followed them out.

‘Could I have a word?’ he asked Jake.

‘Sure—let’s have a cup of coffee. Coming, Annie?’ They went into Sister’s office, and Jake poured three cups of coffee from the jug in the corner.

‘Ifs and buts?’ Ross asked without preamble.

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