Runaway Sister

by Ann Jennings

  The drive back to the hospital passed quickly, but in that short space of time the easy intimacy of the restaurant evaporated and Samantha felt uneasy. Adam said nothing, neither did she, but she was painfully aware of him. The silence was almost tangible, she felt that same feeling she had felt before, as if she were in an electromagnetic field, that forces beyond her power were attracting her to him. It was with a sense of relief that she saw the hospital complex loom in front of them, and within a few moments he pulled the car to a halt outside her flat. All was in darkness now; Steve had gone—not that she had expected him to be still there at this time of night.

  “Thank you very much for a most enjoyable evening,” she said, her voice sounding strangely stilted in her ears.

  “Don’t mention it, the pleasure was mine,” came the smooth reply. Courteously Adam got out of the car and came round and opened the car door for her. Samantha climbed out.

  “Well, thank you again,” she said, feeling suddenly awkward. He towered above her in the darkness, she could just see his outline dimly, as the lighting was not good in that part of the road because a lamp had broken.

  “It’s rather dark here,” said Adam suddenly.

  “Yes, there’s a lamp broken,” said Samantha, glad to find something ordinary to say. “I reported it ages ago, but you know hospitals, they always take ages to do anything. I suppose they’ll send a maintenance man to do it eventually.”

  “That’s not good enough,” replied Adam, sounding quite annoyed. “It could be quite dangerous with young nurses about.”

  Samantha laughed. “Oh, do I come into that category, or am I too long in the tooth?”

  “It’s no joking matter,” said Adam severely. “I’ll walk with you to your front door and wait until I’ve seen you safely in. Come on.”

  Taking her arm in that viselike grip of his, he started walking with her towards the block where her flat was situated. On reaching her door Samantha slid the key, which she had already retrieved from her handbag, into the lock and the door opened silently. Switching on the hall light, she turned to face him.

  “I won’t ask you in for a coffee,” she said, “it’s much too late and I’m on duty at eight thirty tomorrow morning. Thank you once again for a very pleasant evening.”

  He took a step forward, suddenly he was very close. Almost panic-stricken by the danger signals that her alarmed pulses were sending out, Samantha stepped back and put up a hand as if to fend him off. Catching her hand, Adam raised it to his lips.

  “Thank you, Miss Roberts, for the pleasure of your company,” he said softly, kissing her hand with old-world charm. “Until we meet again.”

  Releasing her hand, he stepped back across the threshold, and closed her front door behind him, leaving her standing dazed in the small hallway. She had expected him to kiss her on the lips, not the hand, and she wasn’t sure whether she was disappointed or pleased that he hadn’t.

  Half an hour later when she was sleepily snuggling down in bed she smiled to herself, thinking about that kiss on the hand. It had been a charming gesture, by a charming man, she thought hazily, drifting off into sleep. Yes, there was no doubt about it, he was charming.

  Next morning it all seemed like a dream, something that had happened a million years ago, and it wasn’t until she was actually on the Maternity Unit and bumped into Jennie that she suddenly realized that she hadn’t given Steve a single thought since the night before. All she had been thinking about had been Adam Shaw! If his intention had been to distract her from unhappy thoughts of Steve, he had certainly succeeded in doing that!

  “Hi,” said Jennie as she saw Samantha coming out of the changing room. “Are you OK? John and I were a bit worried about you last night. Still, I can see now that you must have got home all right.”

  Samantha smiled, “Yes, I got home safely.” She didn’t know why, but she didn’t mention that she had been out to dinner with Adam Shaw, and as Jennie went chattering on about other things that had happened at the party, and obviously assumed that Samantha had gone straight home, Samantha let it rest at that.

  Leaving Jennie, she collected Nurse Wellow and then they both went into the office to take over from the night staff. There was only one patient in the first stages of labor, so Samantha sent Nurse Wellow along with the night nurse to take over. It would be good experience for her to chat to the patient on her own, she thought as she sipped a cup of coffee. She was totally unprepared for the next event. The door to her office burst open, and in strode Adam Shaw with a face as black as thunder.

  “Why the hell are you in here drinking coffee?” he thundered. “You should be down there in the labor room!”

  Samantha stood up, startled and angry. “There’s no problem. Nurse Wellow is with the patient and she’s only in the first stages of labor.”

  “First stage of labor?” he grated between gritted teeth. “It sounds as if they’re slaughtering pigs down there! Get down there and stop that noise.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” Samantha flashed back, absolutely furious at being spoken to in such a rude manner—all the more so, as she had been thinking fond thoughts of him only a few moments before. “And don’t raise your voice to me, I won’t have it!” Slamming the door shut behind her, she left him standing in the middle of her office. What his reaction was to her flaring back at him she didn’t know, and at that moment she couldn’t have cared less.

  The moment, however, that she stepped into the corridor she could see what he meant. The noise was an earsplitting, high-pitched scream. Samantha hurried down the corridor towards the sound—all her training prevented her from actually running, but she walked extremely fast! On reaching the small labor room she opened the door and went in, not knowing what to expect. The sight that greeted her was that of a perfectly fit-looking eighteen-year-old girl, sitting bolt upright in bed and letting out that earsplitting noise that could be heard the length and breadth of the Maternity Unit. Nurse Wellow was by the side of the girl, wringing her hands and trying to utter words of comfort.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said to Samantha. “I don’t know what to do. She’s not even having a contraction, at least I don’t think so.”

  Samantha looked at the pregnant girl sitting in the bed. She was very young, very pretty and obviously hysterical. Taking a calculated risk, Samantha slapped her sharply but not too hard across the face, saying at the same time, “Stop this noise at once! There are other women here having babies besides you, and this noise upsets them.”

  The girl stopped immediately and hiccuped. “I don’t want to have a baby,” she wailed like a spoilt child. “I don’t want anything to do with it!”

  “Bit too late to think that now,” retorted Samantha. “You should have thought of that earlier.”

  “Oh, it’s all right for you to be high and mighty,” said the girl in a petulant voice, “you’re old and you’re probably a spinster!”

  Samantha resisted an almost uncontrollable urge to slap that pretty petulant face again and said in a calm voice, “I’m merely being practical—you are pregnant. The baby has started to come, it’s going to be born whether you like it or not. You can either make it very hard for yourself and your baby, or you can make it much easier if you do as I tell you. Now lie back and let me examine you.”

  Silently the girl lay back on the pillows and turned her face away towards the wall. Samantha could see the tears trickling silently down her cheek. Compassionately she laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder. She was only a child herself, and here she was having a baby.

  “Are you afraid?” she asked gently.

  “Yes,” the girl whispered back in a barely audible voice. “I’ve never had a baby before.”

  Samantha smiled. “For every woman there’s a first time,” she said, “and it’s only natural to be a little apprehensive, but remember, women have been producing babies sin
ce the human race began, for thousands and thousands of years.”

  She started to examine the girl’s abdomen gently, then she listened to the fetal heart, which was good and strong. After taking her pulse, temperature and blood pressure Samantha was satisfied that all was well.

  “How long ago did you have your last contraction?” she asked.

  The girl, whose name Samantha had ascertained from her notes was Diana, turned restlessly over onto her other side. “I don’t know how long ago it was,” she muttered. “It was when I screamed.”

  Samantha looked at her notes again. “I see you attended antenatal classes,” she remarked. “What happened to the deep breathing you’ve been practicing?”

  “I forgot,” admitted Diana, looking a little shamefaced now.

  Samantha pulled up a chair and sat beside her and taking hold of her hand said, “I’m going to wait here with you until the next one comes, and when it does, if you do as I tell you, I promise it won’t be so bad.”

  Diana gripped hold of her hand tightly; it was patently obvious she was very frightened. “My mum told me it was terrible, having a baby. She said it would teach me not to have another one.”

  “Perhaps your mother was one of the unlucky ones,” replied Samantha, “but if you think about it sensibly, it can’t be that terrible, because lots of people have lots of babies.” She smiled at her encouragingly. “Besides, if you find it too painful you can always have an epidural injection and then you won’t feel any pain at all. That’s something that wouldn’t have been available for your mother.”

  “Yes,” replied Diana, visibly brightening. “They told us about those when we went to classes, but the needle looks awfully big. Does it hurt?”

  “There’ll be a little discomfort when it’s inserted,” said Samantha truthfully, “but after that everything should be all right. However, you’re a young healthy girl, and I honestly don’t think you’ll need it.”

  “There’s one coming—a pain!” exclaimed Diana, panic in her voice.

  “Now,” said Samantha in a low calm voice, “start taking in a deep breath slowly. Imagine you’re surfing along on top of a big, big wave, keep breathing in slowly till you reach the top.” She was pleased to see that Diana responded and was slowly breathing in, although she could tell she wasn’t relaxed enough, from the way her hand gripped hers.

  “Try to relax at the same time,” she said in the same calm voice. “You’re nearly there now, in a moment you’ll be sliding down the wave into calm water and you can slowly let your breath out.”

  Diana’s hand relaxed her grip on Samantha’s as she slowly let her breath out. “That wasn’t so bad,” she said in a surprised voice.

  Samantha smiled at her encouragingly. “That was a good strong contraction,” she said. “I’ll examine your cervix now—somehow I think your baby is impatient to get out into the world and you’re not going to take very long.”

  She was right. From then on everything proceeded smoothly. Diana was cooperative so long as Samantha was there. Once Samantha had to leave the room to go and answer the telephone, and when she was left alone with Nurse Wellow, her confidence evaporated and she started to panic again. When she returned Samantha resignedly accepted the fact that there was to be no coffee or lunch break for her until Diana had delivered. However, she thought this was a small price to pay if she could help the girl to deliver her baby without the need for analgesics of any kind. Samantha belonged to the school of thought that firmly believed that all analgesics were potentially dangerous to the fetus, and if it was possible to do without them, then so much the better.

  Just as Diana was entering the second stage and was beginning to bear down the door opened and Adam Shaw came in.

  “Everything all right?” he asked, standing just inside the doorway.

  “Yes, thank you,” returned Samantha shortly. “Diana’s doing very well…”

  “Good,” he said, still waiting by the door.

  Irritably Samantha looked at him for a moment. “If I need you, I’ll send for you,” she said abruptly, then turned back to her task of helping Diana.

  Nurse Wellow looked surprised. She wasn’t used to nurses talking to senior consultants in that way—to her they were all godlike creatures! Samantha, however, didn’t give Adam Shaw another thought from that moment on, all her energy being concentrated on Diana. By midafternoon it had paid off. Diana delivered a fine eight-pound-two-ounce baby girl, complete with a shock of coal black hair.

  It seemed to Samantha that Diana changed from a girl to a woman before her very eyes as she tenderly held her baby.

  “She’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “Look at her tiny fingers, her little nails are perfect, and her eyes are so blue. Oh, she’s lovely, I love her!” Impulsively she planted a gentle kiss on the baby’s wrinkled forehead.

  “I told you it would be worth it,” replied Samantha. “I’m sorry I had to be tough on you at the beginning.”

  “Were you?” said Diana. “I’d forgotten.”

  By the time Diana had been sorted out, the baby inspected by the pediatricians, who pronounced her one hundred percent, and mother and baby dispatched to the ward, it was late afternoon. After making sure there was nothing urgent going on Samantha made her way along to the canteen for a well-earned break. It was way past lunch, so she had to content herself with a cup of tea and a sticky bun, which actually tasted better than it looked.

  She was halfway through her tea and bun when Jennie came bouncing in. “I wondered if I’d find you in here,” she said, bringing her cup of tea over to join Samantha. “Do tell me, what was that row you had with Adam Shaw this morning? All the junior midwives are gossiping about the way you shouted at him—‘Don’t raise your voice to me, I won’t have it!’” she giggled. “I can just imagine his face! He likes to be the lord and master of all he surveys.”

  Samantha sighed. “I’d forgotten all about it,” she said truthfully. “I’ve had a difficult patient to deliver. Not that the delivery was difficult, far from it, but the girl’s psychological attitude was difficult, to say the least—not helped either by the fear of God being put into her by her own mother.”

  “Oh, one of those,” said Jennie, then she returned to the subject of Adam Shaw. “I don’t know whether it’s due to you or to that glamorous visitor he had this morning who apparently upset him, but he’s been in an awful mood. Sister in Gyne Theatres told me that this afternoon’s operating session has been absolute murder! Nothing is right, he wants instruments that aren’t there, he’s complaining that the anesthetist is too slow, he’s complaining that the porters are too slow, in fact he’s hell to work with.”

  Samantha snorted. “Good job I’m not there. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a surgeon being a prima donna!”

  Jennie laughed. “I know, but they all get their moments. Obviously something has upset him.”

  “That’s no reason to take it out on everyone else,” retorted Samantha, wondering who the glamorous visitor was that Jennie had referred to. Not that she had to wonder for long, because Jennie was determined to tell her all she knew, which was not much, anyway. There was nothing Jennie loved more than a good gossip, not in a malicious way, she was just genuinely fascinated by the goings on around her.

  “Sheila in Reception told me that early this morning a very glamorous woman turned up in Reception and asked for Mr. Shaw. Of course Sheila asked her if she had an appointment and she said, very haughtily, no, she hadn’t, but could Mr. Shaw be informed that Mrs. Papasthasis was waiting to see him. He will see me, she’d said. So of course Sheila bleeped him, and sure enough he came straight away to Reception. Sheila said he didn’t look too pleased to see her, but that she greeted him like a long-lost lover, kissed him very enthusiastically, Sheila says, then linked arms with him as they went off towards his office.”

  “How strange,” said Samantha,
“because he bawled me out at just after eight thirty this morning, so she must have arrived very early indeed!”

  “Oh, she was there then,” replied Jennie. “She spent the whole morning in his office, and he did his ward round and everything else he had to do and kept rushing back to his office in between times. He got Sheila to organize a tray of coffee and biscuits for them, and when she took them into his office, she thought they’d been arguing, because his face was as black as thunder and they stopped talking as soon as Sheila went in. Another thing Sheila said was…” Jennie’s voice trailed off in midsentence and her face took on a guilty conspiratorial look.

  Looking over her shoulder, Samantha saw the cause for her sudden silence. Adam Shaw had come into the canteen and had bought himself a cup of tea. Surprised, Samantha looked at her watch; it was half past four. It was very early for him to have finished his afternoon’s operating, so obviously something had gone amiss. For the Theatre Sister’s sake she hoped it wasn’t lack of blood or special instruments that caused it. Sometimes the right blood or instruments weren’t sent to Theatre on time, which usually meant someone’s head had to roll, and that someone was usually the Theatre Sister.

  Jennie gulped back her tea. “I’d better get going,” she said. “I’m on until nine tonight—see you tomorrow.”

  “Goodbye,” said Samantha, wishing Jennie weren’t leaving; she felt like talking to someone. The day had been so busy that she hadn’t had time to feel lonely, but now the evening was looming ahead and she began to get an empty feeling. She didn’t think Adam Shaw had seen her as she had her back to him, and she was therefore quite startled when suddenly he sat down beside her.