The Viv Fraser Mysteries Box Set 1

by V Clifford

  When the midwife came out from behind the curtain she beckoned Viv over. ‘It won’t be long. Is there a father?’

  ‘Yes there is, but I’ve no idea where he is.’

  The midwife shrugged as if nothing would surprise her. ‘I take it you’ll be at the birth then?’

  Viv was horrified by that idea, but her choices were limited and she thought she could probably manage it. She nodded. ‘Okay. I expect if she wants me there . . .’

  Mand, clearly listening between puffs from behind the curtain, screeched, ‘Of course you’ll be there.’

  Viv drew the curtain back, and shocked at how pathetic Mand looked, felt a lump rising in her throat. She swallowed hard, suddenly reflecting that she was unlikely otherwise to see a birth in her life, and that really it was a privilege to be asked.

  Manda sobbed. ‘Vivi, you mustn’t leave me.’

  Hearing her childhood name brought Viv closer to the trolley. How strange that Mand needed her now. At least a decade had passed since Mand and Viv had been on generous terms. Communication between them, when they had managed to speak at all, was more thistle and bristle than thoughtful. But old conflicts appeared to vaporise now.

  The bustling and chatter around the bed seemed part of another world until the nurse bellowed, ‘We’re on the move!’

  It was code for something, because the trolley was whirled round and pushed through double doors leading to another corridor. Viv felt Mand’s grip release and watched as her eyelids fluttered. Was she passing out?

  ‘What’s going on? What’s happening? Where are you taking her?’ Viv’s cool was no longer feasible.

  ‘Surgery!’ someone yelled. And Viv was man-handled out of the way.

  She watched as Mand was rolled through another set of doors out of sight. Viv leant against a stainless steel wall, sweat trickling down her forehead as she rummaged in her pocket for a tissue. Aware of her heart racing, she waited. And waited. Eventually the nurse returned, and was about to walk straight past. Viv caught her arm.

  ‘Where is she and what’s happening?’

  ‘The baby’s turned.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  The nurse looked directly into Viv’s eyes as if assessing her strength, ‘Breech with complications.’

  Viv knew enough to realise this wasn’t good news. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘Not sure. It’s too late to turn the baby back. They might cut her, try with forceps, more likely perform a section, though.’ Suddenly she softened. ‘She’s in the best hands. I’d go and get a coffee or something. She’ll be at least an hour.’

  Viv trailed behind the woman, who was almost as wide as she was tall. She wondered if she should ring her brother-in-law. Mand’s reaction to her earlier comment didn’t instil confidence that his arrival would be welcomed. But it was his child too. She made for the exit and joined the posse of smokers before she remembered she’d abandoned the Rav. It was nowhere to be seen and her anxiety took a different shape. She loafed back into reception and pointing outside she explained that she’d had to leave her car. The woman assured her that all was well and that it had been towed to the far side of the car park with all the others.

  Viv, not convinced of the Rav’s safety, went in search and overcome by relief felt herself welling up when she spotted it at the end of a row. A few deep breaths later and she was finding reason again. She scrolled through her phone but couldn’t find her brother-in-law’s number. A valid excuse for not making contact. Mac had left a message asking if she was okay. She tried his number but it went straight to his messaging service. Another message from Rosa, a client, piqued her interest but she’d have to make do with a text in reply.

  The coffee shop was a vast improvement on the Old Royal where volunteers from the WRI, not that she had anything against them, were only there between ten and four, and served tea that you could stand your spoon up in or instant stuff which couldn’t be called coffee. The reassuring chug and squeal of steam reducing milk to a light froth made her spirits rise. Cappuccino accompanied by an oversized lemon muffin would certainly improve her energy level, at least in the short term. She slid into a seat where the table had had a cursory wipe. A quick scan assured her there were no children within spitting distance.

  Why had Manda phoned her? It was so left field. Viv munched on the muffin, and tossed ideas around in her mind. Was her brother-in-law still around, or had Mand finally bitten the bullet and dumped him? No way. She dismissed the notion, sure that her mum would never have been able to keep that secret. Although their mum didn’t remember everything she’d had for breakfast, she believed that Mand had married above herself, ‘an angel’ she called him. If there had been a rift, she’d have been so disappointed, there’d be no way she’d have kept it to herself. So, where the hell was he? What kind of husband beetles off round the world, when his wife is nine months pregnant? ‘Selfish sod.’ Realising that she’d said this out loud she scanned her periphery to check if anyone had noticed. Her cappuccino was at the perfect temperature to gulp down and with that done she headed back to where she’d left Mand.

  Slightly worried that something might have gone wrong, but also a little disappointed that she hadn’t, after all, been present at her first birth, now she wondered if she’d have stayed upright, or if she’d have embarrassed herself by fainting. She smiled; maybe it had worked out for the best.

  She looked for the nurse who’d sent her for coffee but couldn’t see her. She tried to speak to another nurse, this one wearing only white whereas the other had had navy trim on her uniform. Everyone in trousers and loose fitting tops with pockets these days. Must make life easier not having the worry of laddering tights. For a moment she recalled a time in childhood when she’d been in hospital; the swish of starched uniforms and the absurd headgear had done nothing to reassure her that she was in safe hands. She spotted the nurse she was looking for and skipped to catch her before she disappeared again through the double doors into the inner sanctum.

  ‘Is my sister all right?’

  The nurse looked quizzically before registering who she was. ‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘Yes, she’s fine.’

  Viv, noting her reluctance, continued, ‘And the baby?’

  The nurse nodded and pointed to a sign. ‘Follow those signs and they’ll take you to a ward. Ask at the desk and they’ll point you in the right direction.’

  Viv felt she had been got out of the way. Nonetheless she dutifully followed the signs, which led her to the ward where her sister was recovering. Seeing her own reflection in the ward’s window against the darkness outside, Viv realised how late it must be. She glanced round in the hope of a clock and found a digital read out on a radio belonging to a woman two beds away from Manda. It was five-forty. My God, what had she been doing all day? That must be wrong. There was no way of checking and she didn’t want to pull out her mobile in case she got caught. There were threatening notices everywhere around the hospital and the walls at the desk had been no exception.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Manda was asleep, or at least completely zonked out, and when Viv whispered to her she didn’t stir. It struck Viv that this would be the time to find her brother-in-law, so she retreated to the car park and Googled the number of the company he worked with.

  It was a long shot anyone being at their office this late on a Sunday let alone a holiday weekend, but it was all she had. She thought he must be abroad so was surprised when a snippy male receptionist put her straight through. ‘Hi, Derek, it’s Viv.’

  ‘Amanda’s sister Viv?’ This pissed her off. Did he know a string of Vivs? He must have recognised her voice but would do anything to wind her up. ‘Yes, Mand’s sister. She’s at the Royal and I assumed you’d like to know.’

  With concern in his tone he asked, ‘What’s the matter? Is it serious?’

  What was going on? There was no way he could feign ignorance of the baby. But Viv knew so little of Mand’s life that anything could have happened. />
  ‘Look, Viv. She probably hasn’t mentioned that we’ve . . .’

  ‘Stop! Don’t tell me, you’re no longer together?’

  ‘We haven’t been together for the last . . . ’ And his most sarcastic voice, ‘Oh what is it? Seven, eight months?’

  Realising why Mand had been so cross when she’d been on the verge of mentioning him she said, ‘Never mind. I shouldn’t have called.’ She cut the connection, slipped the phone into her pocket and rubbed her hands over her face. He mustn’t know about the baby. Mand must have kept it from him. Why? Good reason, Viv assumed.

  She’d been shocked when Mand told her she was pregnant, and wondered how their oh so perfect life style would accommodate the messy, dribbly, but perhaps even joyful, life of a child. Mand must have decided she wanted a baby more than the constant worry of dirtying the white carpets. Theirs was a shoes-off-at-the-door household. Was Mand still in the house? She was too quick to cut that call. He’d have spilled the beans or at least laid them out neatly before her. He was a man who took anal retention to dizzying depths, with a weekly manicure and monthly top-up of professional tooth whitening. And although Mand had found his OCD charming in the beginning, Viv had hoped her sister would see the disadvantages of living like a slave. This, a baby, was a major crack in a dam, that wouldn’t heal however many fingers were jammed in it. Viv smiled then tried to guess what it must have cost Mand to be on her own for all this time, with morning sickness and the terror of actually giving birth.

  Viv wandered back into the ward and sat at the bedside until a nurse came by to check Mand. ‘Where’s the baby?’ Nervous of the reply.

  ‘He’s in the special unit . . . Not for long, though.’ The nurse must have caught the look of concern that crossed Viv’s face and continued, ‘No, he’s fine. We just wanted Mrs Fraser to get some rest. You can see him from the corridor if you like. Follow me.’

  Viv, distracted by the nurse calling Manda Mrs Fraser, trailed behind her out of the main ward and into a side ward. Mand not using her married name? What the heck had been going on? As soon as Mand had married, Viv had backed off. She just didn’t get Derek, or any bloke whose skin looked as if he’d bathed in Irn Bru. But why would she? Few men had inspired her since her dad died and Derek, for all his intelligence, was a gonad-rubbing golfer, who couldn’t have floated her boat if he’d been Noah. This was not to say she didn’t like golf, she did, but not when it was about cosy corporate back-slapping. She shuddered as she recalled the way he behaved towards Mand. Once, in the early days, Viv had been on a rare visit, when Derek had leaned over the back of their ridiculously expensive leather sofa, stretched out his empty glass and said to Mand. ‘Refill . . . and don’t spill it this time . . . it costs a fortune.’

  Viv’s blood boiled recalling his arrogance. But Mand had made her choice and now it seemed she’d made another without Viv or their mum knowing her circumstances. Their mum would be devastated at the news of Derek being out of the frame, although the baby would go some way to set that to rights.

  The hospital nursery was as she’d seen in movies. Rows of incubators lined up with pink and blue blankets either over the occupants or hanging on the rail at the end of the tiny cots on wheels. The nurse pointed to Amanda’s baby.

  Viv’s eyes widened at the tiny creature with its shock of red hair. ‘Oh, my God,’ she gasped. ‘He’s such a wee sweetie!’ She sensed that the nurse had heard this kind of utterance a million times before, but she still smiled.

  She grinned at Viv. ‘I can’t let you hold him without the mother’s permission but we can wheel him through to her now. She should be awake.’ The cot, with tyres designed to scale Ben Nevis, rolled silently back to the bedside. Mand struggled to sit up and Viv tried awkwardly to help but the nurse stepped in and hoisted her efficiently, leaving her propped up on two pillows. The baby stretched its tiny hands and legs and let out the strangest noise.

  Mand looked at the nurse, who grinned. ‘There’ll be a lot more where that came from.’ She lifted Viv’s brand new nephew into his mother’s arms, and Mand, with tears rolling down her cheeks, stifled a sob. The baby, like a marsupial, knew instinctively where to nuzzle for food. Viv, embarrassed, said she’d wait outside for a bit.

  She stepped out into the cool air and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she searched in her pocket for her mobile and checked the messages. A few missed calls from Mac and a couple from an unknown number. Could be the bro-in-law. But if he didn’t know anything about the baby, didn’t even know that Mand was pregnant, she wasn’t going to be the one to share her sister’s secret.

  She rang Mac. ‘Hey Mac, what an afternoon. Although, I have to confess, it wasn’t so bad for me as it was for Mand. Baby boy now, though. He’s a wee cracker.’

  ‘I’d no idea she was pregnant . . . you hadn’t told me, had you?’

  ‘Probably not. Mand and I haven’t been on the best of terms for a while. Her call came completely out of left field. But all is well now. So if you want to reschedule our meeting I’d be happy to oblige.’

  She heard him laugh at the other end − a sound that warmed her through and through.

  ‘I could see you for dinner if you like.’

  It hadn’t been long since the muffin, but a decent dinner would be good. ‘The Apartment would be great if we can get a table. Actually, forget that. Let’s meet at Bella’s. What’s the time now? Six-ten. See you there at half seven if you don’t hear otherwise.’

  ‘See you then. And Viv, don’t you go getting all broody now that there’s a baby about!’

  She laughed. ‘Calm yourself. It’s never going to happen. See yah.’

  Seeing a new-born had definitely tripped a switch in Viv’s biological cupboard, but not the one to make her broody. She had to get Mand to talk about what’d happened between her and Derek. He really had a right to know about his son, as much as it aggrieved Viv to allow him any rights at all. Should she ring her mum? She’d better speak to Mand before doing anything; this wasn’t her story to tell.

  As she returned to the ward, Viv detected the unappetising odour from food trolleys being trundled into wards, where unsuspecting patients were expected to improve, for God’s sake. Mand was sitting on the edge of her bed with a man, who, on first glance, looked like the brother of a friend from Mand’s high school days.

  As Viv approached Mand looked up and smiled, not the sceptical smile that Viv was used to, but a warm welcoming smile that radiated from her whole face. ‘You remember Viv?’ Mand said to the friend.

  ‘Course.’ The man turned to face Viv and stuck out his hand to shake.

  Viv shook the hand, trying to fit newly discovered pieces of a puzzle together. ‘Hi. What bri . . .’ Mand shot Viv a look which prevented her from finishing her inquiry. ‘Good to see you again.’ Viv said instead. She couldn’t remember when she’d last seen Colin. Probably close to fifteen years ago. When he’d be in the car when his dad came to pick up Amanda with his sister Catriona on their way to play in a netball or hockey match. Viv smiled, recalling that every time they’d returned, Mand’s games kit was still clean and their mum never seemed to catch on. After Viv and Manda’s dad died, lots of families from their school took pity on them and there were always offers of lifts to and from school games and concerts. Colin and Catriona’s dad had been a frequent taxi for Mand, but they hadn’t been particularly chummy and Viv couldn’t imagine why they’d kept in touch. Mand had become such a snob, and Colin and Catriona weren’t on the right social radar to be included in the drinks parties or dinner rounds. Besides, Derek would have forbidden it in his own manipulative way. Why was Colin here? Although Viv wasn’t convinced that the man who stood before her was Colin. He was extremely polished.

  Viv scolded herself for being unkind. Mand’s attitude must be rubbing off on her. ‘Look, Mand, since Colin’s here I could nip home and grab something to eat.’ Knowing that she had every intention of eating with Mac, but realising that the whole truth could, in the state that
Mand was in, send her off on one. ‘Anyway, you look as if you could do with an early night. How about I ring in the morning? I expect they won’t keep you here any longer than they can get away with.’ She watched as questions flickered over Mand’s face as she decided whether to accept this excuse for a quick exit, but finally a look of resignation appeared and she nodded her consent. Once a big sister always a big sister.

  ‘You’re probably right. Col won’t be staying long but we could do with a catch up.’ She put her hand out to Viv. ‘Thank you. I’m not sure what I’d have done without you.’ She gripped Viv’s hand and stared into her eyes. Viv knew that a message was coming through but she was not sure what. When she screwed up her forehead Mand shook her head ever so slightly and Viv nodded. The moment passed.

  ‘See you in the morning.’ Relieved to be off the hook so lightly, she waved as she backed out of the ward.

  Released from duty, she was tempted to take a quick look at the crime scene in the next block, so followed the signs back to the teaching area; but there were too many people about for her to access the office again, and besides there was a PC standing at the other end of the corridor speaking into his mouth piece. Time to back off.

  She jogged across the car park to the Rav and drove in a distracted haze home to the West Bow. She ought to ring her mum and everyone else who should be told about the baby, but Mand hadn’t given her the go-ahead. One more day wouldn’t matter.