Paul was sitting in the front discussing something with Verlaine as he carefully drove them through the blizzard. Sam couldn’t hear what they were talking about above the sound of Gemma’s heavy breathing.
“Sammy,” Gemma panted. “I think they’re coming.”
“They are, Gem, but it’ll be okay. It shouldn’t take more than an hour to get you to your hospital.”
“Take me to any hospital! Don’t bother driving all the way back into London, Verlaine! Check your sat-nav for the closest one and take me there!”
“I haven’t got a sat-nav, Miss Jenkins.”
Scott pulled out his phone. “I’ll check on Google Maps.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Verlaine said.
“Sittingbourne Hospital,” Scott said. “Do you know where that it?”
“I know Sittingbourne,” Paul said. “It’s in North Kent.”
“Which isn’t surprising,” Gemma grunted. “Because that’s where we currently are!”
“You need to head west,” Scott said, ignoring Gemma. “I guess follow the signs for London. Do you know where you are?”
“I know where I am,” Verlaine said. “It’s cool. I’ll get you there in plenty-a time.”
Gemma groaned and squeezed Sam’s hand, which made her yelp – but then she felt guilty, because Gemma was obviously in a lot of pain. Sam gazed at her sister, hoping she wasn’t too uncomfortable. This car had awful suspension and the roads around here seemed to contain more craters than the Moon. Sam was amazed that some idiot might be prepared to part with ten grand for this hunk of junk. It certainly hadn’t been designed for treacherous conditions like this. It was big, bulky, and unmanageable. Sam imagined that this was probably how the captain of the Titanic felt just before all that nasty iceberg business.
But at least it should get Gemma to a hospital in plenty of time.
Verlaine pulled off the main road and headed down a country lane. They ascended a hill, descended over the other side, then took a sharp bend at the bottom, where civilisation seemed to disappear. There were no streetlights now, and the bare trees hung over the road, gathering snow on their branches and creating an eerie scene up ahead.
“Is this the way, Verlaine?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, it’s okay. It’s a shortcut. I know this area.”
Sam trusted her boyfriend – he had a superb sense of direction. She rubbed Gemma’s arm, hoping to give her some comfort, then she allowed her mind to dwell on the fact that Verlaine was still currently her boyfriend, not her fiancé.
Foiled again.
Sam realised now what a bitch Rebecca was. Of course, Verlaine should’ve been honest with her about the assault thing, but she understood that he’d been a young man protecting his friend. And it was a long time ago. They’d need to have a chat about it – and Sam planned to ask if he had anything else he needed to confess – but there was no way Rebecca would split them up over this. Everyone made stupid mistakes when they were young. Verlaine was great guy with a good heart, and Sam loved him.
“We should be there in about twenty minutes, Gemma,” Verlaine said. “Can you hold them off that long?”
Sam knew Verlaine was joking, but Gemma suddenly let out an animal groan.
“Hurry up, Verlaine,” Sam said.
He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. “I’m going as fast as I can.”
“We don’t want to end up crashing,” Paul said.
“I know.”
Sam decided all she could do was sit back and patiently let time pass. She threw her attention over her sister, who was grimacing in discomfort. But she assured herself everything would be okay, as long as they could get to the hospital soon.
“I’m sure we’re nearly there, Gem,” she said.
Sam’s renewed optimism was suddenly obscured by a grey-cloud sensation, as the car made a disconcerting grinding noise.
“What’s that?” Gemma asked through gritted teeth.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sam said.
She willed the noise to stop, but it actually got louder as the whole car started to rattle.
Something clunked beneath them.
Verlaine gripped the wheel like a rodeo rider trying to stay on. He pumped his foot on the accelerator, but the car was rapidly losing speed. Sam hung onto the handrail, refusing to let the T-bird shake her out of her seat.
She listened with growing dread as the engine squealed like a slaughtered pig. It felt as if they were driving through a furrowed field – and it wasn’t just because of the terrible road-surface in this dark lane.
“What’s happening, Verlaine?” Paul said. “Out of petrol?”
“No,” he said. “Something else.”
“Well, what?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll try to keep going. Maybe we can ride it out.”
Sam opened her mouth to remind him that he was actually supposed to be an expert on these things, but the car stole everyone’s attention. It crept forwards another few yards before sputtering to a halt, in the middle of the road, next to a muddy field.
Gemma started to visibly panic. “Oh god, we’re stranded miles from nowhere! It’s snowing a blizzard out there. My babies are coming, I can feel them!”
“No way,” Verlaine said. “I’ll get you to hospital, just hang tight.”
He threw open the door against the wind, popped the hood, then ran around to check what was wrong.
“I’m sure he’ll fix the problem,” Scott said, trying to calm Gemma down. “He’s a great mechanic. Well, obviously you know that already.”
“He’d bloody better hurry up,” Gemma shouted. “Or he’s out of a job in the New Year!”
Sam held Gemma’s hand. “I think she’s delirious.”
“No, I’m not!”
Sam glanced through the windshield, hoping to see what was happening, but the hood was obscuring Verlaine.
“Look after Gemma,” Sam said.
She clambered out into the blizzard and ran around to find Verlaine gazing at the engine, seemingly baffled. He was holding his mobile phone over the engine – using it as a flashlight. The snow was landing in his hair and melting. He looked damp and freezing.
“Anything?” she asked.
“It looks fine. I’ve no idea what’s wrong.”
“You’re joking?”
“Do you think I’d joke at a time like this?”
Sam raised her voice against the snow storm. “I don’t know. Apparently there are lots of things you’ve never told me.”
“Not lots of things. Just that. I didn’t want you to hate me – especially after I punched Charlie at his wedding. I thought you’d break up with me for sure.”
“Do you really think I could ever hate you?”
“Don’t you right now?”
“Of course not!”
Verlaine opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of Gemma screaming pulled him back to reality. “Jesus. You don’t think she’s actually giving birth, do you?”
“I hope not.”
He gestured to the car. “Will you try the ignition for me, please, baby?”
“Did you do anything to the engine?”
“No, but maybe if you try it, I can see what the problem is.”
“You just want me to get in the car and not get cold, don’t you?”
He smiled. “Will you?”
“I’ll try the ignition.”
Unsure what else to do, Sam climbed back inside and reached for the key.
“What’s happening?” Paul asked.
“Not much,” she said.
“Anything I can do?”
“I’m not sure.”
She turned the key in the ignition. The engine chuggered and spluttered, coughed and wheezed. Then it died.
Terror prickled Sam’s skin. She pushed it away, and tried the ignition again, jiggling back and forth in her seat to encourage it to start. But nothing.
Sam ignored Gemma’s whimpering and Scott’s attempts to soothe her, a
s she climbed back out.
“Gemma’s getting cold now the heater’s turned off. I’m worried, Verlaine.”
“Maybe you should call an ambulance. I’m sorry but I don’t know how to get this car started.”
Sam ran back and popped her head into the car. Paul had turned around in the front seat to face Scott and Gemma. Gemma was getting frantic, shouting that the babies were coming. Scott was trying to calm her down, but it wasn’t working.
“I need to get up and walk,” Gemma said.
“No,” Scott said. “You can’t. There’s a blizzard out there.”
“I think we should call an ambulance,” Sam said.
“Good idea.” Paul pulled out his phone and opened the car door. “If I can get a signal out here in the middle of nowhere.”
He stepped out into the snow.
“Paul, don’t go too far away in this weather,” Scott called.
Sam realised that the snow was blizzarding into the car from where she was standing with the door open, so she clambered in and held Gemma’s hand.
Verlaine climbed into the driver’s seat and twisted to face them. “Where’s Paul gone?”
“Ambulance for Gemma,” Sam said. “Anything with the car?”
He turned back and tried the ignition. Nothing happened.
“I don’t want to alarm you,” Scott said. “But I think Gemma’s having her babies.”
“She can’t,” Sam said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Gemma screamed and threw her head back. .
Scott drew Gemma against himself, so she could lie in his arms. “I think one of us is going to have to do this, Sam.”
“I can’t! Not me!”
“She’s your sister,” Paul’s voice said.
Sam glanced up at where Paul was now poking his head into the front passenger door.
“Is the ambulance coming?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, let’s just wait. It can’t be long.”
Gemma screamed again. “You need to fucking do this, Sam!”
“I’ll come round and help you,” Paul said.
He closed the passenger door, jogged around the car, and appeared at the door behind Sam. He opened it slightly and squeezed himself in, trying to keep the cold out.
Sam braced herself. “Okay.”
She leaned over and cautiously eased down her sister’s trousers, pulling them over her ankles. Her knickers were soaked through. Sam didn’t know if it was blood, but her squeamishness and the heavy tension was making her feel lightheaded. She couldn’t do this; no way.
Verlaine suddenly opened the driver’s door and climbed out. “I’ll just check the engine again.”
Sam reached up and peeled off her sister’s underwear. Gemma seemed quite out of it with the pain now, but Scott was telling her to breathe and trying to keep her calm. The swollen sight between Gemma’s thighs made Sam’s stomach churn.
Okay, I can do this.
She rested her hand on Gemma’s thigh, with the intention of inserting a finger to see how far dilated she was. But her head filled with dizzy swirls as a stream of blood trickled out and down onto the leather seat.
“What’s happening, Sam?” Gemma asked off in the distance.
Sam suddenly felt her temperate soar. She needed to get out of this car. She turned and pushed Paul out the way, then she scrambled out into the snow and felt the world swarm into blackness around her.
Paul dived out the car and managed to grab Sam before she hit the ground.
Verlaine came running over and took her in his arms, leaning her rump up against the car so she slumped against his chest. “What the hell happened? Is she alright?”
“She fainted,” Paul said.
“Why? Sam, can you hear me?”
“Gemma’s giving birth.”
Gemma screamed.
“No! Not in the car!”
“Are you worried about your leather upholstery?”
“Don’t be a fucking moron, of course not! Where’s the ambulance?”
“They said they were on their way. Maybe they can’t get up the ridge.”
“Can you do it, Paul?”
Gemma screamed again. Scott’s calm voice tried to soothe her, but things were spiralling out of control.
Sam started to snuffle back to consciousness in Verlaine’s arms. He gently bent at the knees and lowered them both to the ground, pulling her on top of him to keep her off the snow.
“It’s okay, baby, just take it slowly.”
“Gemma?” she mumbled.
“It’s okay; Paul’s gonna do it.”
“I don’t know how to deliver a baby!”
Verlaine winced. “Twins.”
“Oh fuck!”
“Well Sam can’t. And I’m trying to fix the car. You’ve seen every episode of that show, right? One Born Every Minute?”
“That doesn’t actually qualify me as a midwife, Verlaine!”
“Who else is gonna do it out here?”
Paul’s heart thumped wearily in his chest. He didn’t want this responsibility, but he knew there was no one else. “Okay. I’ll try.”
Gemma obviously didn’t agree to this plan. “Take me to a fucking hospital!”
“We can’t, Gemma,” Paul said. “The car won’t start. I don’t know where the bloody ambulance is.”
“Her contractions are really close now,” Scott called.
“How do you know?” Paul asked. “You’re down that end.”
“Because every time she has one, she breaks another one of my fingers.”
Paul ducked inside the car, trying not to stare between Gemma’s legs, but knowing ultimately he’d have to.
He rested his hand on her bare knee. “Is it okay with you, Gemma? If I just have a look?”
She panted as if she was hyperventilating with the agony. Paul decided to take that as a ‘yes’.
Paul eased her knees apart. He was no medic, but he wasn’t stupid either. “Okay, Gemma, the fact is, you’re fully dilated and I think you’re crowning.”
Gemma groaned. Paul reached his fingers between her legs.
He gasped. “Oh my god, I just touched your baby’s head – it’s coming!”
Gemma cried out as a contraction took her. Scott quietly whimpered, as she crushed his hand.
Sam leaned in behind Paul to have a look. Then she suddenly sprang back and threw up.
“Sam,” he called. “When you’ve recovered, I need some of that hand gel stuff – have a look in Gemma’s handbag; maybe she’s got some. And I’ll need as many warm bits of clothing as possible. Also get water. And the nail-scissors from Scott’s make-up bag.”
Paul was vaguely aware of Sam opening the trunk and rummaging around to try to find those items. She and Verlaine were exchanging panicked words, but Paul threw his focus over Gemma.
His mind swum with what he’d picked up from the TV show. “Okay, Gemma, you need to exhale strongly at the peak of your contraction. That helps. Apparently.”
Her strained face nodded, then she cried out and tried to exhale at the same time. Sam suddenly appeared at Paul’s side.
“Here’s the hand gel. I remembered I had some in my bag.”
“Great, thanks, Sam.”
Paul spread the gel liberally over his hands. “Are you comfortable, Gemma?”
She growled at him. “No, I’m fucking not!”
“Okay, just shuffle your bottom further towards me.”
Paul gently encouraged her to push between contractions not during, reminding her to slow down and relax. He was amazed at how much he’d learnt from watching weeks of that TV show. Whoever said television wasn’t educational?
“Push deeply into your bottom,” he said. “One big push and the head’s out.”
And he was right. He supported the head, not pausing to appreciate the wonder of this amazing thing he was holding in his hands. Gemma pushed again at his instruction and the shoulders followed, then the whole baby was in the
world, screaming, wet and sticky; precious in Paul’s hands. He supported the baby’s head and tilted him to drain the fluids, then he snipped the cord and wrapped him up in Sam’s proffered coat. Paul held the tiny person against his chest and felt his heart surge with an overwhelming sense of love and joy. The baby screamed in his arms for a few ear-splitting seconds, then he quietened down and snuffled. He opened his little eyes and Paul gazed into his perfect soul – feeling an inherent protectiveness which bonded them together for eternity. Humility bubbled in Paul’s chest, and he suddenly realised this was what life was about – unconditional love. This little guy was awe-inspiring. Paul never wanted to look away, but Gemma screamed in agony, shattering the spell.
He glanced up and saw that Gemma was now delirious with pain and in no fit state to meet her son. Paul very carefully leaned in and placed the baby in Scott’s arms. Scott gasped, unable to take his eyes off the precious bundle.
“Keep him warm,” Paul said. “One down; one to go.”
Scott giggled excitedly as he fell under the baby’s spell. Paul shared a loving glance with his husband, then he allowed his pumping adrenaline to prepare him for the next twin. He moved back down to the business end of Gemma and clapped his hands.
“Let’s do this!”
Paul’s cocky confidence swiftly disappeared as a tiny leg appeared where the head should be.
“Oh my god.”
“What is it?” Sam asked.
Paul pushed her away. “Don’t look, Sam.”
He felt the panic infect him now, knowing this could be fatal for both mother and baby. Time and space crashed around him, crushing him into a tiny cube – he had no idea how to deal with this. But his relief splurged as he heard the car sputter into life.
Verlaine shouted, “I got it!”
Paul was just about to tell Verlaine to climb in and step on it, but then he heard another vehicle approaching. He turned and was delighted to see an ambulance gingerly approaching in the snow.
Verlaine rushed towards it, flagging it down.
Paul glanced back into the car, where Scott was still holding the first baby, gazing at him with tears in his eyes. Gemma was writhing in pain on the leather seat, unable to appreciate the amazing thing she’d just done.
Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5) Page 16