Midwives On-Call

‘Yes,’ Alessi said when his mother raced over. ‘Allegra is having the baby.’

‘Why aren’t you in there?’ Yolanda demanded.

‘Isla’s there. She’ll call if she needs me.’

Alessi closed his eyes.

She just had called.

Private, deep, she had told him she was pregnant and he was eternally grateful for the drama of tonight, for not demanding to know if the baby was his, in some Neanderthal reaction.

Whatever the answer, he was there for her, too.

Alessi knew it.

Isla didn’t.

‘Is everything okay?’ Steve asked, his eyes anxious.

‘Everything,’ Isla said, ‘is perfect.’

Allegra pushed and when she couldn’t push, she pushed some more and then let out a scream, not that anyone would hear outside, where there was music and chattering and laughter. And as Allegra rested her body against her husband, Isla demanded more from her.

‘Again.’

‘No.’

‘One more, come on …’

‘Do what Isla says.’ Steve was both supportive and firm. Behind his wife, he held up her thighs and helped Allegra bring their child into the world.

Their baby was almost here—the head was out and with the next push it would be delivered. The door opened at that moment and Isla smiled as Aiden Harrison, a rapid-response paramedic who had arrived on motorbike, stepped quietly inside.

‘Put your hands down, Allegra,’ Isla said.

Allegra did and together she and Isla delivered the baby.

It was a gorgeous fat baby girl with big cheeks and chunky arms and legs, who cried on entering the world and was born with her eyes open. Allegra and Steve wept when they saw her, their strong, healthy baby, and so, too, did Isla.

Not a lot, but some tears did spill out, especially as Steve cut the cord.

‘I think you’ve stopped the party.’ Isla smiled through her tears because the noise outside had faded.

‘Steve …’ Allegra said. ‘Maybe you could let them know that everything is okay?’ She glanced up from her beautiful daughter. ‘And let Alessi in, poor guy.’

His face was as white as chalk but he smiled when he stepped in and saw his niece.

It was so completely different from the last time.

Then, it had needed to be all sterile equipment and everyone avoiding meeting his eyes. Then it had been his sister and nephew on different intensive care units and the joy of childbirth completely missing.

Now smiling faces greeted him and the surroundings didn’t matter.

A backup ambulance had arrived and as Allegra was transferred to a stretcher it was Alessi who held the baby.

There were repercussions to his job. He generally dealt with the babies that had run into complications, with the battlers to survive, but this little girl was feisty, dark, hungry, angry … Alessi looked into very dark navy eyes that in a matter of weeks would be as black as his.

She needed no help from him, just love, and this little lady had it.

So, too, did Isla.

He loved her—of that he was completely sure.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A PROCESSION OF cars followed the ambulance to the hospital and once there a celebration ensued.

Isla was more than used to the excitement within a Greek family when a baby was born but it was all multiplied tonight, because this little lady had been born on her grandparents’ fortieth wedding anniversary. Isla was aware, too, of the exhaustion having so many people around might cause for a new mum, but Alessi sorted it and suggested that the party continue back at his place.

‘Thank you so much, Isla,’ Allegra said as Isla went to go. ‘It might not have been the ideal location but it really was the best birth.’

‘It was wonderful.’ Isla smiled. ‘You made it look very easy.’

‘It has been the best wedding anniversary present ever.’ Yolanda was ecstatic. Niko was asleep on her shoulder and would be staying with his yaya tonight, but first they headed back to Alessi’s, stopping for champagne on the way.

The mood was elated as corks popped and Alessi watched as Isla took a glass and pretended to take a sip so as not to draw attention to the fact she wasn’t drinking.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘Of course.’ Isla smiled.

‘Isla?’ Alessi checked, because he could see that she was struggling.

‘I’m a bit tired,’ Isla admitted, which was the understatement of the year. She was exhausted. The high of the birth was fading and the enormity of her revelation was starting to make itself known. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss it and from the way things were going it would be a good while yet till they could.

‘Go and lie down,’ Alessi suggested.

‘I can’t just go to bed in the middle of a party. My father would have kittens if I—’

‘He’s not here, though. Isla, you can do no wrong today, you just safely delivered Allegra’s baby. I know they are a bit over the top but they really are so grateful and relieved.’

‘I think it’s lovely how happy they are,’ Isla said.

He led her to the bedroom and she walked in, glad to escape from all the noise. Alessi closed the blinds and Isla undressed down to her underwear and slipped into bed. He came and sat on the edge.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ he said.

‘I really didn’t have to do much. Your niece made her entrance herself,’ Isla said. ‘She’s such a gorgeous baby.’

‘It will be you soon,’ Alessi said, and watched as her eyes filled with tears. He could only guess how overwhelming this all must be for her. ‘How long have you known?’ he asked, and then answered his own question. ‘The Monday before Valentine’s Day.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Your texts went from ten lines to two words,’ Alessi said. ‘Don’t worry about all that now. Just get some rest.’

‘You’re not cross.’

‘Cross?’ Alessi checked. ‘Did you expect me to be cross?’

‘I didn’t know what to expect.’

‘I only get cross when you dump me for no good reason, Isla,’ he said. ‘Get some sleep. We’ll talk later.’

There was a lot to talk about but when Alessi finally got to bed around two, he certainly wasn’t about to wake her for The Talk. He had never intended to wake her at all, but Alessi hadn’t forgotten how nice it was to have her in his bed and he had missed her so much.

Asleep, Isla wriggled towards the source of warmth. Her back was to him and, deprived of his touch for ten days now, her body knew who it wanted and her bottom nudged into his groin and sank into his caress as his arm came over her.

Alessi lay there. No, it would be completely inappropriate, he told himself, because there was that damn talk to have. Except his fingers didn’t care about such matters and were stroking her through the silk of her bra and then burrowing in.

‘Isla …’ Alessi said, which wasn’t much of a conversation. His mouth was on her shoulder, tasting her skin again and then moving up to her neck. The response in her had him harden further, the craning of her neck to meet his mouth, the consent, the want had a flare of possession rise in Alessi and there was no conversation to be had.

Isla was his.

His mouth suckled her neck and Isla bit down on her bottom lip as he deliciously bruised her. His hand was sliding down her panties and she wanted to turn but she didn’t. She liked the arm holding her down and Alessi’s precision as he took her from behind.

Of all his responses, of all the reactions she had anticipated, this hadn’t been one of them. Alessi’s hand was on her stomach, gently pressing her back into him, and Isla, who had never been taken like this, writhed in pleasure as his hand moved down and stroked her intimately.

‘Alessi …’ She said his name, the only thing now on her mind as he moved her towards orgasm.

And for Alessi, here in the darkness of his bedroom, yes, there were questions, but her body’s response, their absolute connection meant the only truth that actually mattered was easily said. ‘I love you.’

Isla stilled, but Alessi didn’t. He thrust into her and didn’t let her get her breath, neither did he allow the panic that suddenly built in her to settle. He just said it again, for their love was no accident.

She could feel him building to come, feel all the passion about to be unleashed, and it tipped Isla into raw honesty when she’d spent her whole life covering lies. ‘I love you, too.’

Isla came before him and she loved how he held her down and didn’t kiss her, or stifle her shout. He just let her be and drove her ever higher as he came deep inside her.

And still there was no need for The Talk because they had said what mattered.

Doubts belonged to the morning. There were none in his arms.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ALESSI WOKE BEFORE Isla and would have watched her sleeping had he not been so hungry.

Neither had had dinner, he remembered.

He wondered if she was as starving as he was.

If Isla was feeling sick in the mornings.

He just stared at her and wondered, which he’d been doing for more than a year, Alessi thought with a smile as he climbed from bed and went to the kitchen.

Coffee on, he started making breakfast and completely out of habit he checked his emails and then glanced at the news.

And then did a double take.

Yes, again she had him wondering.

‘Morning, Isla …’

It was incredibly nice to be woken with coffee and breakfast and Alessi’s smile, and she returned it but even as she stretched, doubts started piling in.

God, she’d told him she loved him.

Isla let out a breath.

Yes, he’d said he loved her but she was petrified of forcing his hand, thinking that Alessi might be simply making the best of a bad deal.

‘This looks lovely,’ she said, her hand shaking a touch as she took the coffee from the tray, unable to meet his eyes.

‘Is there something you need to tell me?’ Alessi said.

‘Isn’t what I told you last night enough to be going on with?’ Isla said. ‘I know it’s a shock. I know it’s too soon …’

‘It doesn’t feel too soon,’ he said. ‘We’re not teenagers, Isla.’

‘I know, but even so …’

‘It was a shock last night,’ Alessi admitted, ‘but it’s a nice surprise now. How do you feel about it?’

‘Nervous,’ Isla admitted. ‘I was terrified at first but now …’ she looked at him ‘… it’s starting to feel like a nice surprise, too, but I’m terrified of the pressure it might put on us.’

‘Like marriage?’

Isla nodded.

‘You don’t want to get married?’ Alessi asked. ‘Isla, help me here, because the last woman I asked to marry me …’ She could see him struggling. ‘I don’t want to put the same pressure on you. Looking back, I can see that we were far too young and not in love. You’ve heard the saying “Marry in haste, repent at leisure”. I’m quite sure now that that would have been Talia and I.’

‘I don’t want it to be us.’

‘It won’t be,’ Alessi assured her. ‘Just so long as we are always honest with each other.’

‘I feel like I’ve forced things …’

‘Isla, I was going to ask you to marry me on Valentine’s night. I had it all planned, right down to if you said yes, we were going to go the next day to the restaurant, upstairs this time, and tell my family …’ He could see the disbelief in her eyes. He rolled his eyes and then climbed out of bed and went to a drawer, and Isla watched as he took out a small box.

‘There.’ He handed it to her. ‘Do you believe me now?’

She looked up at him and then back to the ring.

It was white gold, with a pale sapphire. ‘It matches your eyes, almost exactly,’ Alessi said. ‘I wanted a diamond but when I saw this …’

Again he asked a question. ‘Is there something you need to tell me?’

‘Such as?’

Alessi took a breath. ‘Maybe there’s something I need to tell you. I’m sorry if it comes as a shock. Your ex-boyfriend just came out. It’s all over the news …’ He saw the tears in her eyes and misread them. ‘I’m sorry. Is this news to you?’

‘I’ve always known.’ Isla took a breath. ‘There’s never been anything sexual between us.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Alessi frowned. ‘Were you covering for him?’

‘Yes,’ Isla said, ‘but he was covering for me, too.’ It was the biggest confession of her life and far harder to admit than her pregnancy. ‘I’ve never had a sexual relationship with anyone. Till you.’

‘You’re telling me that our night together was your first?’ He shook his head, not so much in disbelief but that night he had felt her burn in his arms, the sex between them had been so good, so natural. ‘You should have told me,’ he said. ‘You must have been so nervous …’

‘No,’ she refuted. ‘I was always scared before, I wasn’t that night.’

‘Scared of what, Isla?’

‘I don’t really know,’ she admitted. ‘I thought I was scared of getting pregnant but I don’t feel scared. Something happened when I was twelve … She closed her eyes. ‘I can’t tell you.’

‘I think you have to.’

‘I can’t tell you because it’s not my secret to share, it didn’t happen to me.’

‘Whatever happened affected you, though,’ Alessi said. ‘What would you tell one of your patients?’

‘To talk to someone.’

‘So talk to me.’

‘My sister.’ Isla gulped in a breath as panic hit. ‘Please, never say …’

‘I would never do that.’

That much she knew.

‘When I was twelve I heard her …’ Isla let out a breath. ‘She had a baby, I think it was about eighteen weeks …’

‘You think?’

‘I didn’t know at the time,’ Isla said. ‘I delivered him. Isabel begged me not to say anything but I got our housekeeper, Evie. She took us to a hospital … It was all dealt with, our parents never found out … I promised never to tell.’

‘You’re not telling me about Isabel,’ Alessi said. ‘I don’t need the details about her, I need to know what happened to you and what you went through.’

And so she told him, and Alessi watched as the supremely confident, always cool Isla simply collapsed in tears as she released the weight of her secret.

He held her as she spoke and then, as the tears subsided, Isla lay there and looked up at him and found out how it felt not to be alone.

‘No more secrets,’ Alessi said.

‘I know.’

‘You could have told me … And then he stopped. ‘I guess you had to trust me.’

‘I should have told you that night,’ Isla said, ‘because I trusted you then, Alessi, or I wouldn’t have slept with you …’ She looked at the smile on his face and frowned. ‘What’s funny?’

‘Not funny,’ Alessi said. ‘I guess that means that the baby’s mine.’

‘Of course—’ Isla started, and then halted. Of course he would have had doubts, he would have been doing the frantic maths. Not once had it entered her head that he might wonder if the baby was his, but of course it must have been there for him. ‘You loved me, even when you didn’t know that the baby was yours …’

‘Isla, I love you, full stop. We’d have worked it out, whoever the father was.’

He loved her. Isla accepted it then.

‘Marry me?’ Alessi said.

‘Try and stop me.’ Isla smiled. ‘Can we not tell anyone about the baby yet, though? I want to keep it to ourselves for a little while.’

‘And me,’ Alessi said.

‘We’ve only being going out for a few weeks …’

‘Oh, no,’ Alessi said, and took her in his arms. ‘I’ve been crazy about you since the night I first met you and I was right that night …’ He gave her a slightly wicked smile of triumph. ‘You did want me.’

‘I did,’ Isla said, blushing at the memory. ‘God, I’ve wasted so much time.’

‘I wouldn’t change a thing about us, Isla. You know there is another saying, Isla, “Ki’taxa vathia’ mes sta ma’tia sou ke i’da to me’llon mas”.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘It means I looked deep into your eyes and I saw our future. That was what happened on the night we first met and that is what is happening now. You are my future, Isla.’

‘And you are mine.’

They had a past, they had the future and, Isla knew as Alessi kissed her, they were for ever together now.

******

Meant-To-Be Family

Dear Reader,

For me, there’s no more powerful emotion than witnessing the miracle of birth. As a kid on a farm, birth never ceased to leave me amazed and awed, and that feeling’s stayed with me all my life. So when I was asked to contribute to the Midwives On-Call anthology I jumped at the chance.

But my heroine has fertility issues, and as I wrote, these questions drifted through my writing—what makes a parent? What makes love? Five years ago grief drove my hero and heroine apart. How much love does it take to bring them back together?

The midwives of Melbourne Victoria Hospital are a tight-knit team, facing the complexities of birth and love—and sometimes grief and loss—as part of their working day world. Life and death, love and joy—they’re what matters. In the Melbourne Maternity Unit we see those emotions every time our midwives walk through the door, so it’s only fitting that my lovers can finally find the power to love again.

Families take many forms. I hope you love the crazy, mixed-up bunch of loving that my Oliver and my Emily end up with.

Enjoy!

Marion

With thanks to my fellow authors who’ve helped make this Midwives On-Call series fabulous. A special thank-you to Alison Roberts, for her friendship, her knowledge and her generosity in sharing, and to Fiona McArthur, whose midwife skills leave me awed.

CHAPTER ONE

LATE. LATE, LATE, LATE. This was the third morning this week. Her boss would have kittens.

Not that Isla was in the mood to be angry, Em thought, as she swiped her pass at the car-park entry. The head midwife for Melbourne’s Victoria Hospital had hardly stopped smiling since becoming engaged. She and her fiancé had been wafting around the hospital in a rosy glow that made Em wince.

Marriage. ‘Who needs it?’ she demanded out loud, as she swung her family wagon through the boom gates and headed for her parking spot on the fifth floor. She should apply for a lower spot—she always seemed to be running late—but her family wagon needed more space than the normal bays. One of the Victoria’s obstetricians rode a bike. He was happy to park his Harley to one side of his bay, so this was the perfect arrangement.

Except it was on the fifth floor—and she was late again.

The car in front of her was slow going up the ramp. Come on … She should have been on the wards fifteen minutes ago. But Gretta had been sick. Again.

Things were moving too fast. She needed to take the little girl back to the cardiologist, but the last time she’d taken her, he’d said …

No. Don’t go there. There was unthinkable. She raked her fingers through her unruly curls, trying for distraction. She’d need to pin her hair up before she got to the ward. Had she remembered pins?

It didn’t work. Her mind refused to be distracted, and the cardiologist’s warning was still ringing in her ears.

‘Emily, I’m sorry, but we’re running out of time.’

Was Gretta’s heart condition worsening, or was this just a tummy bug? The little girl had hugged her tight as she’d left, and it had been all she could do to leave her. If her mum hadn’t been there … But Adrianna adored being a gran. ‘Get into work, girl, and leave Gretta to me. Toby and I will watch Play School while Gretta has a nap. I’ll ring you if she’s not better by lunchtime. Meanwhile, go!’

She’d practically shoved her out the door.

But there was something wrong—and she knew what it was. The cardiologist had been blunt and she remembered his assessment word for word.

It was all very well, hearing it, she thought bleakly, but seeing it … At the weekend she’d taken both kids to their favourite place in the world, the children’s playground at the Botanic Gardens. There was a water rill there that Gretta adored. She’d crawled over it as soon as she could crawl, and then she’d toddled and walked.

Six months ago she’d stood upright on the rill and laughed with delight as the water had splashed over her toes. At the weekend she hadn’t even been able to crawl. Em had sat on the rill with her, trying to make her smile, but the little girl had sobbed. She knew what she was losing.

Don’t! Don’t think about it! Move on. Or she’d move on if she could.

‘Come on.’ She was inwardly yelling at the car in front. The car turned the corner ponderously then—praise be!—turned into a park on Level Four. Em sighed with relief, zoomed up the last ramp and hauled the steering wheel left, as she’d done hundreds of times in the past to turn into her parking space.

And … um … stopped.

There was a car where Harry’s bike should be. A vintage sports car, burgundy, gleaming with care and polish.

Wider than a bike.

Instead of a seamless, silent transition to park, there was the appalling sound of metal on metal.

Her wagon had a bull bar on the front, designed to deflect stray bulls—or other cars during minor bingles. It meant her wagon was as tough as old boots. It’d withstand anything short of a road train.

The thing she’d hit wasn’t quite as tough.

She’d ripped the side off the sports car.

Oliver Evans, gynaecologist, obstetrician and in-utero surgeon, was gathering his briefcase and his suit jacket from the passenger seat. He’d be meeting the hospital bigwigs today so he needed to be formal. He was also taking a moment to glance through the notes he had on who he had to meet, who he needed to see.

He vaguely heard the sound of a car behind him. He heard it turning from the ramp …

The next moment the passenger side of his car was practically ripped from the rest.

It was a measure of Em’s fiercely practised calm that she didn’t scream. She didn’t burst into tears. She didn’t even swear.

She simply stared straight ahead. Count to ten, she told herself. When that didn’t work, she tried twenty.

She figured it out, quite quickly. Her parking spot was supposed to be wider but that was because she shared the two parking bays with Harry the obstetrician’s bike and Harry had left. Of course. She’d even dropped in on his farewell party last Friday night, even though it had only been for five minutes because the kids had been waiting.

So Harry had left. This car, then, would belong to the doctor who’d taken his place.

She’d just welcomed him by trashing his car.

‘I have insurance. I have insurance. I have insurance.’ It was supposed to be her mantra. Saying things three times helped, only it didn’t help enough. She put her head on the steering wheel and felt a wash of exhaustion so profound she felt like she was about to melt.

His car was trashed.

He climbed from the driver’s seat and stared at his beloved Morgan in disbelief. The Morgan was low slung, gorgeous—and fragile. He’d parked her right in the centre of the bay to avoid the normal perils of parking lots—people opening doors and scratching his paintwork.

But the offending wagon had a bull bar attached and it hadn’t just scratched his paintwork. While the wagon looked to be almost unscathed, the passenger-side panels of the Morgan had been sheared off completely.

He loved this baby. He’d bought her five years ago, a post-marriage toy to make him feel better about the world. He’d cherished her, spent a small fortune on her and then put her into very expensive storage while he’d been overseas.

His qualms about returning to Australia had been tempered by his joy on being reunited with Betsy. But now … some idiot with a huge lump of a wagon—and a bull bar …

‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’ He couldn’t see the driver of the wagon yet, but he was venting his spleen on the wagon itself. Of all the ugly, lumbering excuses for a car …