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Mistletoe Mother (Medical Romance)

Page 8

by Josie Metcalfe


  The rest of her labour was relatively quick and uneventful with each of them casting occasional glances at the green-faced figure now huddled on a chair well out of sight of anything remotely gory.

  It was the conspiratorial grins that the three women shared that he should have taken note of, even if he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

  ‘If he thinks that his squeamishness is going to get him out of changing the baby’s nappy, he’s got another think coming,’ Christine murmured in the brief respite before the next contraction, her Northern roots suddenly very evident in her accent. ‘I don’t believe that the men should have all the pleasure of having children while the women do all the hard work, and that goes for after they’re born as well as putting them there!’

  Ella was still chuckling quietly as she carefully controlled the head as it passed through the perineum.

  ‘Keep panting for me, Christine,’ she directed quickly. ‘The head’s out and I’m just going to feel around the baby’s neck to check that the cord isn’t in the way, so don’t push for a second.’

  ‘Well, hurry up!’ she gasped before panting furiously.

  ‘All clear! You can push as soon as you like,’ Ella said and concentrated on delivering first one then the other shoulder.

  ‘It’s a girl!’ she announced as the rest of the baby slithered out into her waiting hands in a rush. ‘It’s a girl and she’s beautiful. Looks just like her mum.’

  There was a sudden indignant cry and all four little limbs began to flail the air as Ella held the tiny being up for the new mother to see.

  There was a groan and a thud in the corner and they all glanced across to see that one new father was now lying stretched out on the floor, unconscious.

  ‘You wait until you’re old enough to understand this story,’ Christine confided to the naked little body sprawled across her chest while Kerry checked her Apgar score.

  She stroked a gentle finger over her new daughter’s damp hair and grinned up at Ella and Kerry. ‘This is one girl who won’t be buying into the “big strong man” myth.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on us,’ said a voice from the doorway and Ella’s heart leapt into her throat.

  ‘Christine, this is Mr Gifford, one of the consultants,’ she said, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt while she waited for him to announce the reason for his visit. In the meantime she busied herself with checking the baby over while she wrapped her in a warmed blanket.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Seth said, speaking directly to her patient. ‘But I heard your daughter’s cry and couldn’t keep from sticking my head round the door.’ He leant closer as if to whisper confidentially. ‘I’ve always found new babies totally irresistible. Is she your first?’

  He was standing right beside the bed now, his eyes flicking from the swaddled bundle cradled in her mother’s arms to Ella as she watched the byplay in amusement.

  To pretend that his love of their tiny babies was a secret was nonsense. All the midwives knew his weakness—that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on them.

  ‘She’s our first and our last, unless my husband can get his act together,’ she muttered darkly, then screwed her face up in discomfort. ‘Ow! I’m having contractions again. It’s not twins, is it?’

  ‘No such luck,’ Ella teased as Seth took his chance at getting his hands on the baby while she bent over the business end of things. ‘You’ll have to go through the whole nine months again if you want another one. This is just the afterbirth.’

  ‘Hey…’ said a groggy voice at floor level. ‘Is that my baby?’

  ‘It certainly is,’ Seth confirmed cheerfully, carrying the little bundle across and offering a helping hand to the struggling figure. ‘Are you ready for a proper introduction?’

  ‘I would be if I didn’t keep going light-headed,’ he mumbled as he slumped on the chair again. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’

  ‘I bet you forgot to have anything to eat before we left the house,’ his wife said suddenly. ‘You’ve been like this before when you’re changing shifts, just because you don’t feel like having your dinner when it feels as if it ought to be breakfast time.’

  ‘If it’s just low blood sugar, I could probably find a cup of sweet tea to tide you over,’ Kerry offered, then turned to Christine. ‘I could make that tea for two, if you like?’

  ‘Oh, yes, please,’ the young woman said fervently. ‘I could murder a cup!’

  ‘Well, by the time it arrives, we should be all tidied up here,’ Ella said as she started whisking the less aesthetic aftermath of a birth out of sight. She would give Peter Hockney the benefit of the doubt that he’d only passed out because he’d forgotten to eat, but there was no point in tempting fate if it had really been squeamishness.

  ‘Meantime, don’t bother hurrying, because I get the best job of all,’ Seth murmured, totally absorbed as he ran a gentle finger down a petal-soft cheek.

  For a moment Ella stood mesmerised by the picture the two of them made, the tall, utterly masculine man cradling the tiny child so protectively in his arms.

  In a sudden flash of madness she could imagine that it was their child that he was holding, and there was a deep ache of unexpected longing inside her.

  ‘Right, Ella,’ Carol said briskly. ‘I’ve got it all arranged. There’s punch and mince pies in the staff lounge in fifteen minutes. Can you pass the message around?’

  ‘Good timing. You’ll catch two shifts that way, one as they’re going off and the other coming on,’ Ella said with a smile. ‘I’ll do a quick whisk around and see who I can find. I take it you’re intending this to include the whole department?’

  ‘And any extra stragglers like SCBU and Paediatrics who happen to be around at the right moment,’ she said generously. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, so the more the merrier. There’ll even be crackers to pull and the wearing of silly paper hats will be obligatory.’

  ‘We get plenty of practice at that with those dreadful disposable knickers we have to wear on our heads,’ Ella grumbled as she set off to spread the word. ‘Still, if we’re all wearing them it isn’t so bad.’

  She was pleasantly surprised by everyone’s reaction to the invitation, having had nothing like it at her previous hospital.

  ‘Of course we’re coming,’ Jo said, speaking for Serena. ‘Wouldn’t miss it. Carol really sets the holiday off with a sparkle; puts us all in the right mood.’

  ‘I’d be delighted to come,’ Donald Crossman said with a beam. ‘I’ve been hovering around the department for the last half-hour just waiting to find out if Carol was doing it again. This year, though,’ he confided in a low voice, tapping his pocket significantly, ‘we’ve arranged a little surprise for her, as it’s a milestone birthday. I shall drag Seth along, too. He hasn’t been here long enough to know about Carol’s little get-together.’

  Just the sound of his name and the thought that he would be joining them for a social occasion was enough to put an extra spring in Ella’s step.

  It was no one’s business but hers that she’d stopped off in the cloakroom to brush her hair until it gleamed and had freshened her make-up, and she was in the mood to enjoy herself when she and Kerry made their way to the staff lounge at the appointed time.

  ‘Wow, look at this!’ she exclaimed to Kerry when she saw the number of people already there. ‘Is there anybody left to run the department?’

  ‘Luckily, there isn’t anything much going on at the moment,’ she pointed out seriously. ‘Nobody in labour—so far—nobody recovering from surgical anaesthetic, and everybody else knows that they only have to press their bell to have one of us on the way at the trot.’

  ‘In the meantime, let’s get our hands on some of that food. I’m starving!’ Ella exclaimed, impressed by the variety on offer. It certainly wasn’t anything as tame as she’d been expecting.

  ‘It’s an alcohol-free punch so we don’t end up as a Christmas statistic, but all the food is wonderful,’ Jo pointed ou
t as she joined them at the tables pushed together at one side of the room. They were almost groaning under the weight of savouries and sweets.

  There was the sudden sound of something being tapped against a glass and the chatter subsided enough for Donald Crossman to make himself heard.

  ‘This is probably the best moment to speak, while the rest of you have something in your mouths so you can’t heckle and before someone’s pager goes off,’ he began, to a round of laughter. ‘Now, Carol, on behalf of all your guests, I would like to thank you for your hospitality again this year. I believe this is the third time you’ve organised it and long may the tradition continue. I firmly believe that it is good for morale within the department.

  ‘The only problem is,’ he continued with a mock scowl at some of the extra bodies that Ella didn’t recognise as members of the department, ‘it could get so popular that we’d need to transfer it to a large marquee on the lawn to accommodate the numbers. Then we’d probably have to move the date to some time with warmer weather and before you knew it, instead of being our department’s private Christmas get-together, it would end up the Hospital Summer Ball.’

  ‘He’s a good speaker for all that he seems so quiet and shy,’ Kerry murmured under the cover of everyone’s laughter. ‘Not at all pompous and overbearing, like some consultants.’

  ‘However,’ he continued, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket with one hand while he gestured towards the incriminating banner with the other, ‘as we all know, today is also your birthday, and this year it’s one of those special ones that deserve special recognition.’

  He drew out an envelope and presented it to a scarlet-faced Carol to the accompaniment of whoops and cheers.

  Carol’s words were inaudible to the group over by the table but the expression on her face as she protestingly opened the envelope was something else. She seemed utterly amazed.

  So many people were calling out to find out what it was that Donald tapped his glass again.

  ‘For the nosier element among us, it’s a voucher for a weekend for two at a central London hotel with tickets to the show of her choice—how we discovered that information is classified. And,’ he added over a renewed round of laughter and applause, ‘it’s not just for her birthday but also in recognition of the wonderful way she runs her ward and everyone in it.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said a voice behind Ella, and she whirled to face Seth standing just inside the doorway in the only clear space. She’d been wondering where he was, but she certainly hadn’t expected him to arrive carrying a cake with thirty glowing candles on it.

  Donald must have been looking out for him because the glass was chimed again.

  ‘If everyone would like to clear a path,’ he requested, obviously starting to enjoy his role as master of ceremonies, ‘we’d like Carol to have a chance to blow out the candles before the intense heat sets the fire alarms off!’

  Everyone joined in the birthday song then a chorus of ‘We wish you a merry Christmas’ before they got down to the real business of eating and chatting.

  After the brief flare of excitement, Ella found that she wasn’t really enjoying herself. It was too much of a reminder of everything that was missing from her life.

  Ever since she and Sophia had lost their parents in a skiing accident in their mother’s native Italy, Christmas just hadn’t been the same and birthdays had been all but forgotten.

  As often as not she’d volunteered to be on duty over the festive season so that staff with families could share the day with them. This year, now that they were actually working in the same hospital for the first time, she’d actually thought that she and Sophia might have got together. Her sister’s recent engagement would have put paid to that idea. Sophia was probably going to be spending it with David and her future in-laws while they planned the wedding.

  Appetite gone, she slipped unobtrusively out of the room and took a silent wander through the department.

  There was laughter and conversation all around her with knots of visitors at almost every bed, and if there were more than the regulation number here and there, well, it was Christmas Eve after all.

  She watched from the shadowed side of the corridor while Peter Hockney cradled his tiny daughter. She had a feeling that he was going to turn out to be a far more adaptable daddy than Christine had feared. Who knew, perhaps they’d even get him changing nappies before he took the two of them home tomorrow.

  Tomorrow. Christmas Day, with Christine and her new daughter being welcomed into Peter’s family home, the living proof that their genetic line was continuing into the next generation.

  And what would she be doing tomorrow? Not even eating unless she got herself moving before all the shops closed.

  Ella took a quick glance at her watch and realised that she should have left nearly an hour ago…not that she begrudged Carol the extra time for their little department get-together.

  She was still smiling at Carol’s almost incoherent thanks for the surprises the department had sprung on her when she turned on her heel and ploughed straight into Seth.

  ‘Careful!’ He caught her by the elbow to steady her, his hand very warm on the skin bared by the short sleeve of her scrubs as it lingered just a fraction too long for her peace of mind.

  ‘Sorry. I was just going to get my coat and—’

  ‘Hey! Have you seen what you’re standing under?’ called a teasing voice from the little four-bedded bay, his attention probably caught by her exclamation of surprise.

  They both glanced up to see a sprig of green leaves and white berries that someone had added to their decorations.

  ‘It’s mistletoe, and you’re not supposed to stand there looking at it,’ joked Peter Hockney. ‘You’re supposed to take advantage of it.’

  Ella’s face flamed but she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the soft grey of Seth’s. In all the weeks they’d been working together he could probably have stolen a kiss if he’d been interested. She certainly wouldn’t have stopped him, not if she was ever going to find out if her dreams could possibly be as good as reality.

  Now here they were awkwardly trapped into a situation that had few easy exits, especially with the Hockneys looking on so expectantly.

  If either she or Seth were to object to such an innocuous Christmas ritual it would seem…

  ‘Merry Christmas, Ella,’ Seth murmured softly as he placed his hands on her shoulders and angled his head towards her, taking her completely by surprise as he brushed his lips gently over hers.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHOCK made Ella gasp, opening her lips under Seth’s so that she could suddenly taste the sharp tang of the punch he’d been drinking.

  Almost as though he was reacting to the innocent invitation of her open mouth, his hands tightened on her shoulders, drawing her closer for a second touch that quickly escalated out of hand.

  His mouth was soft and persuasive but his tongue was wicked, setting off jagged bolts of lightning that struck deep inside her, robbing her of breath.

  Her knees refused to lock any more, leaving her leaning weakly against him and clinging to the solid width of his shoulders as she tentatively touched her tongue to his.

  He groaned, the husky sound tightening nerves right in the pit of her stomach as he tilted his head still further then began to explore the dark secrets of her mouth.

  ‘Whooee!’ Peter Hockney crowed, shocking the two of them into an instant and embarrassing realisation of where they were and what they were doing. ‘He might be slow on the uptake, but, boy…!’

  Seth wrenched his mouth away from hers, grasping her shoulders to push her away while he stared into her eyes with a look of…of horror.

  Out of the corner of her eye Ella saw the swift jab Christine aimed at her gleeful husband’s ribs.

  ‘You want to be careful,’ the young woman said knowingly with a glance at her new baby. ‘The two of you ought to know better than most what that sort of thing can lead to.’

&
nbsp; Without a word, Ella and Seth turned and made their way out of the ward, with every hurried step having to listen to the chuckles they were leaving behind.

  ‘That will probably be all over the hospital by the time we can get our coats on,’ Seth grated, barely glancing in her direction as though he couldn’t bear to look at her.

  ‘I doubt that we’ll be the only members of staff to have had a kiss under the mistletoe,’ she retorted sharply. She was hurt that he seemed to see their kiss as something wrong, something distasteful, while she…

  Never in her life had she had a kiss that had short-circuited every synapse in her brain. Never had the simple contact between two mouths felt so utterly right that she’d never wanted it to end.

  And all he could think about was that people might gossip about it—as if that was all that mattered.

  As if by unspoken agreement they paused outside the door to the staff lounge. Somehow the sound of all those cheerful voices and all that happy laughter was more than she could deal with at the moment and she was just about to take her leave when he spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ella,’ he said gruffly, still unable to meet her eyes. ‘That shouldn’t have happened.’

  Stung, she retorted before she could get her brain into proper working order.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said with a shaky attempt at indifference. ‘It was just a mistletoe kiss—par for the course at this time of year.’

  ‘Except it took place in front of patients and it got out of hand,’ he said heavily. ‘It was…It was unprofessional and I apologise.’

  With those words he finally managed to force himself to meet her eyes and she could have cried when she saw the expression in them.

  In view of his words, she’d expected that he would look unhappy, but she hadn’t expected to see such overwhelming guilt.

  ‘I’ll survive,’ she promised light-heartedly as she turned away from him, but inside she wasn’t absolutely sure that she would. At this precise moment she wasn’t certain that anything in her life was going to be the same ever again.

 

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