by Pam Howes
‘Oh hi, Sandra,’ he said. ‘Didn’t see you there.’ He held out his hand to help her up from the floor and kept hold of it when she wobbled slightly.
‘Hi, Ben. How are you?’
‘I’m fine thanks. No Rosie today?’
‘She’s gone on ahead with her friend,’ Sandra replied, stepping along beside him as he set off up the road. He’d let go of her hand now but turned and smiled, keeping pace with her.
‘Well that’s good. Means we can chat in peace. Did you listen to Pick of the Pops yesterday? That Gerry fella has knocked the Beatles from number one. But they’re not a patch on the Beatles.’
Sandra nodded. ‘I know. I was quite surprised actually.’
‘Me too. I mean they’re okay and I’ve seen them at the Cavern, but there’s nobody as good as the Beatles as far as I’m concerned.’
Sandra would have gone along with anything Ben said, whether she agreed or not. She was thrilled just being in his company. She was jerked out of her daydreams when a harsh voice yelled his name from across the road. Her heart sank when he turned to see who was calling him and waved at the girl with brassy blond hair and a spotty face. Janet Smyth lumbered across the road. Her face red from exertion, she glared at Sandra, who glared back.
‘Youse goin’ the youth club tomorra, Ben?’ she asked, her Scouse accent strong.
Ben shrugged. ‘Might be. Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On whether Sandra is allowed out. We’re going together.’ Ben reached for Sandra’s hand and squeezed it.
She squeezed his back. That was the first she’d heard about them going to the youth club together and she wondered if he meant it, or whether it was an excuse to get rid of Janet.
Janet stared at Sandra with a look that would surely kill. ‘Are youse two going out together then?’
Ben nodded and squeezed Sandra’s hand again. Sandra gave the girl a half-smile and got daggers in exchange.
‘Right, well I’ll see youse around.’ Janet stomped off up the street as Ben breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Thank God for that,’ he muttered, pulling Sandra along with him. ‘She bought it.’
Sandra stopped walking and removed her hand from his. ‘Bought what?’
‘She believed we’re going out together. You saved my neck there, gel. Thanks for that.’
Sandra stared at him. She didn’t know whether to laugh or burst into tears, but then he continued, ‘But if you can get out tomorrow night, I would love it if we could go to the youth club together. That’s if you want to, of course.’
Sandra smiled. ‘I’d love to.’ Her plan of hanging around waiting for him had worked. With her sister out of the way, and his mates not with him, he’d finally asked her on a sort of date. Now all she had to do was convince her mam it was a good idea.
Seven
The morning shift was busy as always and Cathy didn’t get a chance to tell Jean about the house on Woodlands Road before she left the ward after her night shift. But Cathy managed to tell her there was something she needed to speak to her about and that she would call her tonight from home. Jean said to leave it until after seven as she was having a good sleep and then going to get her hair trimmed and do a bit of shopping.
‘I’ll leave it until after I’ve put Lucy to bed,’ Cathy said as Jean made to leave the ward. ‘Gives you time to have your tea as well without being disturbed. Be near the phone about seven thirty then.’ The wall phone that the live-in nurses used was in the corridor opposite Cathy’s old room.
‘Will do,’ Jean said. ‘Hope it’s not too busy for you. Good luck with the twins, they’ll arrive in the next couple of hours, you mark my words. Jenny is going to need a shoulder to cry on.’ She left the ward with a wave of her hand and Cathy went back into the office to await her duty instructions.
Ellie was given temperature, blood pressure and urine sample checks duties and Cathy was told to accompany Karen, who smiled and picked up the notes for Jennifer Moore, the patient who would soon be delivering twins. She was a nineteen-year-old unmarried mother whose parents had brought her in and left her with clear instructions that the babies were to be placed into foster care and then adopted at the first opportunity. Jennifer’s history was sad: her boyfriend Billy, to whom she’d been engaged, had been killed on his way home from work, just days after they’d found out Jennifer was pregnant. They’d planned to marry, she’d told Karen and Cathy, but she was left to break the news to her parents alone. She was heartbroken from her loss and her parents’ firm decision that she must give up her baby, and there’d been further upset when two heartbeats were detected five months into her pregnancy. Jennifer had been sent from her Wirral home to stay with a straight-laced maiden aunt in Liverpool for the rest of her time, but the aunt had been no help in supporting her. She’d agreed with Jennifer’s parents that they should stick to their guns, and more so when twins were confirmed.
‘Young Jenny is the sort of girl we could be helping if we had the private maternity home,’ Karen whispered as they hurried down the ward towards Jennifer’s side room.
Cathy nodded. ‘I know. And I’ve got something to tell you on that score at break.’
Karen’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, sounds interesting.’
‘I hope so,’ Cathy said, opening the door to Jennifer’s room as the girl let out a groan.
‘Come on, Jenny, let’s take a look at how far you’ve progressed since you were last checked,’ Karen said, smiling kindly at the girl, who looked worried to death.
Cathy helped Jennifer into a more comfortable position and supported her from behind while Karen examined her. The poor girl was huge and struggled to even move up the bed by herself.
‘Oooh,’ Karen said. ‘Almost fully dilated. I think it’s time to get you into the delivery suite, my love. Now don’t worry,’ she added as a look of panic crossed Jennifer’s face. ‘Nurse Romano and I won’t leave your side until it’s all over and your babies are safely delivered.’
Cathy squeezed Jennifer’s hand while Karen went to fetch a wheelchair to take her down to the delivery suite. ‘You’ll be just fine,’ she told her in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. Poor Jennifer would never be fine again once her babies had been delivered. How cruel her parents were to deprive her of them after tragically losing her Billy. How Cathy wished she had a spare room she could offer Jennifer until she got on her feet. Their planned maternity home couldn’t come soon enough, she thought as Karen came back in the room with a wheelchair. Cathy gathered up Jennifer’s few belongings and put them in a bag that was on the bedside chair. ‘I’ve put your Agatha Christie book in there as well,’ she told Jennifer as Karen helped her onto the chair. Cathy handed her the bag and followed them down the ward and out onto the corridor after first collecting Jennifer’s paperwork from Sister’s office. By the time they’d got Jennifer in the very slow lift and up two floors to delivery she’d started to have contractions every few minutes and was crying out with pain.
‘Oh no, I’ve just wet myself,’ Jennifer howled, clutching Cathy’s hand. ‘How embarrassing.’
‘No, you haven’t,’ Cathy reassured her. ‘It’s your waters breaking and don’t worry about it, you’ve got a pad on. Now come on, let’s get you on to the delivery trolley.’ Between them they helped Jennifer on to the low padded trolley and then cranked it up to a suitable height. Cathy pulled the waiting steel trolley of sterilised instruments to one side and wheeled the gas and air tank closer.
Karen unhooked a rubber mask from the tank and handed it to Jennifer. ‘Now take some deep breaths and try and relax and we’ll have those babies out in no time.’ She took Jennifer’s blood pressure and then placed a stethoscope on her tummy and listened in, moving the stethoscope around. She looked at Cathy, frowned and gave a slight shake of her head.
Cathy took a metal, trumpet-shaped pinard off the trolley and placed the wide horn on Jennifer’s tummy, her own ear placed to the smaller flat end. She pressed gently but firmly
and listened, biting her lower lip as she realised what Karen was shaking her head at. No matter where she positioned the instrument, there was only one solid regular heartbeat and nothing else – or was that a very faint beat, or just the echo of the other one? It was hard to tell. She looked at Karen for instructions.
‘Go to the desk and tell Sister we need help and to call both the obstetrician and paediatrician,’ Karen whispered. Jennifer was moaning softly as she breathed in the gas and air.
Cathy nodded and dashed out of the room to go to the reception area on the corridor, the swing doors almost knocking her off her feet as one caught the back of her shoe heel. She was almost catapulted into the arms of a young doctor making his way towards the doors.
‘Steady on, Nurse,’ he teased as she caught her breath. ‘Where’s the fire?’
‘Oh, Doctor Morley, I was just going to ask Sister to call you and the paediatrician. We have a problem, or we think we do. Twins, but we can only detect one heartbeat.’
‘I just got a call from the sister on your ward to say you’d brought the patient up here,’ Doctor Morley said. ‘I was on my way up anyway to see someone else, so that’s good timing. Twins, eh? It’s possible they’ve shifted position now labour’s started, with one hiding behind the other. It does happen. You pop along and ask Sister to make the call and I’ll see what’s happening in there.’
Cathy dashed away as the obstetrician went into the delivery room. He greeted Karen and picked up Jennifer’s notes, scanning through Jean’s neat entry from earlier. ‘Hmm, both heartbeats were heard at seven this morning with nothing unusual detected.’ He reached for the pinard from the trolley and placed it on Jennifer’s tummy, moving it around as she moaned with the pain of another contraction. His brow creased and he spoke softly. ‘How dilated was Jennifer when you last examined her?’
‘She’s fully dilated,’ Karen said. ‘But she’s not attempted to push yet, even though her contractions are strong and regular.’
He nodded and palpated Jennifer’s tummy. ‘We have one facing in the right direction, but who appears to be stuck, and the other one is breeched. I’m going to suggest an emergency Caesarean. One baby is in a distressed situation and I’m afraid we don’t have the luxury of time to let nature take its course. Best all round for Mum and babies. I’ll ring theatre now and warn them we’re on our way. I’ll leave you to explain to Jennifer what’s happening. I’ll ask the desk to send a porter to take the trolley and you two can accompany her. I’ll go and get scrubbed up and meet you up there.’
He dashed out of the door as Cathy hurried back inside.
‘Sister is trying to contact the paediatrician on duty. He’s on the children’s ward, she thinks,’ Cathy said. Karen nodded and told her quietly what was happening. Then she spoke to Jennifer. The gas and air had made her relaxed and if she heard or understood what Karen was saying to her she didn’t respond, but when Cathy took her hand and squeezed it gently, she squeezed back. The porter arrived within minutes and between them they transported Jennifer into theatre.
Doctor Morley was ready and waiting with the anaesthetist. Cathy and Karen put on gowns, gloves and face masks and stood back to let them take over, handing instruments as they were called for. It was only seconds before Jennifer was sound asleep, her blood pressure stable and her abdomen swabbed with iodine. A deep cut was made and Cathy said a silent prayer and looked up to the ceiling as the paediatrician, gowned and masked, dashed into the theatre. A faint little wail sounded and a dark-haired baby boy was handed to Cathy. She rushed him over to a side table, where soft white towels and cotton sheets sat. Along with the paediatrician she rubbed him gently with a towel; he was tiny, perfectly formed, and had the right number of toes and fingers.
The paediatrician examined him and nodded that he was fine. ‘A tad small but he’s a fighter,’ he said, smiling, handing the baby over to Cathy.
Cathy swaddled the tiny boy in a sheet and held him close as he opened his blue eyes and stared at her, unblinking. Tufts of hair stood up on his head where she’d rubbed him, like a miniature quiff. He was a bit bigger than Lucy had been at birth, although he still needed his weight to be confirmed. Karen rushed over with the second baby, another boy, but much tinier and not moving. Cathy held her breath as the paediatrician gently tried to resuscitate him. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered eventually and shook his head. Karen nodded and wrapped the lifeless little body in a sheet, blinking rapidly while Cathy tried hard to stop tears rolling down her cheeks. At least she and Gianni had been spared this heartbreaking scenario.
Doctor Morley finished seeing to Jennifer, stitched up her abdomen and then joined them at the table. ‘Poor little chap,’ he said, shaking his head sadly. ‘Looks perfect on the outside, doesn’t he? We need to let Mum know when she’s had a bit more recovery time. She’ll need extra-careful handling. We’ll pop her in a side room for now. Maybe one of you can stay with her and as soon as she comes round, give me a shout.’
Karen sighed. ‘What do you think happened there?’
The paediatrician explained, ‘I doubt his lungs were fully developed, plus they are non-identical twins, and that usually means separate placentas, which could mean his wasn’t as well developed.’
‘His placenta was in a bit of a bad way,’ Doctor Morley agreed. ‘I’m actually surprised he survived in the womb as long as he did. If he’d been a single baby he might have made it, but sadly he didn’t really stand a chance. I’ll get a porter to collect him and take him to the morgue for now. Jennifer may want to see him when she wakes up. Put a little shroud on him. There are some on a shelf in that cupboard over there.’ He pointed to the back of the room where a floor-to-ceiling cupboard stood. ‘Can one of you do him the honour? He’ll need labelling too. Poor little soul doesn’t even have a name so “Baby Moore” will have to do for now. I’ll write out birth and death certificates and they can be given to Jennifer later. Poor young lass. I’m sure you two will do your best for her. See you both later.’
Doctor Morley dashed away, followed by the paediatrician, who looked sad as he thanked them both. Cathy felt her eyes filling as she held on tightly to Jennifer’s surviving baby. No matter how many times the staff saw this happen, it was still a shock to everyone concerned. Surely now Jennifer’s parents would have a change of heart and let her keep her son? She hoped so, but they’d have to wait and see.
The sister in charge of the delivery suite came into theatre and smiled kindly. She took over and told them to go to the canteen for a break and she would look after Jennifer and her baby until they came back. ‘Take an extra five minutes, girls,’ she said. ‘Losing a new baby is always a very sad time for both parents and staff alike. I can see this has really upset you both.’
In the busy canteen Karen found a table and Cathy went and got two mugs of tea and a plate of toast. Not that either of them felt like eating, but they needed something to give them a bit of energy to help them get them through the rest of the morning. Cathy carried the tray across to Karen.
‘Looks like we’ve missed Ellie with going to theatre,’ Karen said. ‘We’ll catch up at dinnertime.’
Cathy took a sip of tea and sighed. ‘Poor Jenny. I know she wasn’t keeping the twins, but even so. To know one didn’t survive will really upset her. She’s had enough loss for a nineteen-year-old. I wish there was some way we could help her to keep that baby, somewhere she could go to for a few weeks while she gets on her feet.’
Karen nodded. ‘That’s why Jean’s maternity home idea is a good one. There’ll be hundreds more Jennys in Liverpool needing help over the next few years.’
‘Ah, well, that’s what I wanted to tell you,’ Cathy said, remembering. ‘Sadly, it’ll be too late for Jenny, but…’ She told Karen about the house on Woodlands Road and Johnny and Jimmy’s plans.
Karen’s face lit up. ‘Wow. It sounds as though the house may be just right.’
‘I’m going to call Jean tonight and let her know about it. Hopefully they’ll h
ave been to look inside the house by tomorrow, and then they’ll know how much work needs doing. They may let us look around as well if they make an offer to buy it. We’ll be able to tell them what we want and then see about getting some council or NHS funding to run it. They might agree to let us rent it from them. I doubt we’d be able to buy it, but maybe we could raise money to pay half and rent half. We’ll need to make a lot of notes and then have a meeting at my mam’s place with Jimmy and Johnny and take it from there.’
Karen smiled. ‘It sounds just the job. I bet my dad would help out financially and Ellie and Jean’s dads too if they saw we were really serious about making a go of this.’
Cathy nodded. ‘With a bit of luck it might not be such a pipe dream after all.’
‘Hopefully not. Right, let’s go back up to Jenny. I’m not looking forward to it.’
The delivery suite sister was sitting with Jennifer when the pair arrived back upstairs and the young girl’s heartbroken sobs could be heard as soon as they entered the corridor. Her surviving baby boy was in a little plastic crib at the foot of the bed.
Sister got to her feet and ushered them back out into the corridor. She spoke in a soft voice. ‘Baby Moore has taken an ounce of diluted dried milk formula, which he had no trouble polishing off. He’s changed and settled for a while now. Jennifer knows her second son didn’t survive his birth. I’ve asked if I should call anyone for her, but she’s declined. You two have spoken to her about her situation and you’ve got to know her better than I do, so I’ll leave that to you. She may change her mind.’