Runaway Sister

by Ann Jennings

  “I won’t be late,” Samantha told them after they had told her to take whichever car she wanted. She opted for the small Fiat, it was so much easier to negotiate on the steep bends and inclines of the road than the larger car. Feeling much happier than she had the previous night, she buzzed along in the little car towards Corfu.

  The little town was humming with life as usual. Samantha had always been fascinated by the long narrow streets, crowded with merchandise. Some parts were strictly for the tourist trade, but others were for the local people where the shops displayed their wares of fish, meat and fresh vegetables. This night, however, she had no time to dawdle, but made her way to a largish restaurant, which she knew had a fairly reliable telephone as she had used it before.

  She ordered her meal, taramasalata, souvlakia and Greek salad, and a half bottle of retsina, then she told the waiter not to hurry as she wanted to make a telephone call to England.

  Time after time she dialed the number, only to get the engaged signal as soon as she tried to get a line out of Corfu. It was hopeless, and at last she gave up and ate her meal. She would try later, perhaps the lines wouldn’t be so busy then.

  Later, however, it was the same story, that wretched long beep-beep, telling her there were no lines available. The restaurant owner, Nick, was concerned for her, but there was nothing he could do.

  “Is hopeless,” he said with his attractive Greek accent. “Here in Corfu we are cut off. The Greek government should give us more telephone lines.”

  Samantha wholeheartedly agreed, but there was nothing she could do, so reluctantly she gave up and eventually drove back to the villa.

  When she arrived she drove the little Fiat into the gravel driveway in front of the villa and was surprised to see that although it was late, lights were on in most of the rooms. Dennis must have heard the sound of the car wheels crunching on the gravel, for he came hurrying out.

  “Thank God you’ve come back!” he gasped. “It’s Valerie, she’s gone into labor!”

  Samantha’s heart leaped in alarm. “But she has nearly a month to go!” she gasped, running from the car into the villa. Her mind was racing ahead. It can’t be, she thought, the head wasn’t engaged when I examined her—surely I couldn’t have made a mistake?

  Valerie was in her room upstairs, and Samantha immediately went to her. There was no doubt about it, she was well and truly in labor. Samantha examined her, smiling encouragingly at Valerie, who was worried because her labor had started prematurely.

  “Now don’t you worry about a thing,” said Samantha coolly, with a lot more confidence than she actually felt. “You probably got your dates wrong, that’s all.”

  Her matter-of-fact tone and the simple explanation alleviated some of Valerie’s apprehension and helped her to relax a little.

  “Now it’s important that you remember and put into practice all the exercises we’ve been doing together,” said Samantha firmly. “Especially the deep-breathing ones.”

  Valerie nodded, and the next time a contraction started she began to breathe in as Samantha had taught her. “It works!” she exclaimed when the contraction had subsided.

  “Of course it works,” answered Samantha briskly. “We wouldn’t have wasted our time doing them if it didn’t.”

  Leaving Valerie, she went and changed into a thin cotton dress and took her gown, cap and mask into the room where Valerie was lying, ready to put them on when the time came. Then she went to find Dennis.

  He was pacing up and down on the terrace, lighting one cigarette after another and then stubbing it out nervously after inhaling a few puffs. As soon as he saw Samantha he hurried towards her.

  “What’s gone wrong?” he demanded, his face grey with worry.

  “Nothing yet,” said Samantha firmly. “It’s early, it’s true, but not too early to have a good healthy baby. She appears to be well and the baby’s heart is good and strong.”

  Dennis visibly relaxed. “Thank God,” he said. “I would never forgive myself if anything went wrong because I’ve been so obstinate, and wanted this baby to be born here.”

  It’s a little late to think of that, thought Samantha, but she said calmly, “However, I do think it would be a good idea if we could have another opinion, try to get hold of Dr. Papasthatis, and also is it possible for you to let Adam know? I think he should be told.”

  Dennis frowned. “Well, phoning is almost impossible,” he said, “although it’s worth a try now, as it’s late at night, maybe I’ll get a line.”

  “I’m going back with Valerie now,” said Samantha. “If you do get through to Adam I’d like to speak to him if possible.”

  She left Dennis telephoning and went back to Valerie, who was being very good and cooperative, and was helping herself a lot by relaxing and breathing deeply with every contraction. Samantha felt her anxiety lessen a little. Perhaps Valerie had got her dates wrong, in which case there would be nothing to worry about.

  Dennis came into the room and over to Valerie. “How is it going, darling?” he asked, holding her hand.

  “Just fine,” she smiled at him. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Samantha and I will manage admirably.”

  Dennis squeezed her hand and motioned with his head for Samantha to join him outside, which she did a few moments later on a pretext of going to get herself a drink.

  “I got through to Adam,” he told her.

  “Good,” said Samantha, starting to go down the stairs. “There are several things I would like his advice on.”

  Dennis pulled her back. “Wait, you haven’t heard everything,” he said. “I just managed to get a line and eventually got through to Adam, I told him Valerie had gone into premature labor and that you wanted to speak to him, then we were cut off, and I haven’t been able to get a line since.”

  “Damn!” Samantha clenched her fists in frustrated rage. She had always taken the telephone for granted before, but now with an inefficient system to cope with she realized how isolated they really were.

  “Oh well,” she said resignedly, “I shall just have to use my own judgment—after all, that was what I was trained for.” She glanced at Dennis’s face, consternation written all over it. “Don’t worry,” she said reassuringly, “it won’t be long before you’re a father.”

  In fact it was much sooner than she had anticipated. Valerie’s labor went on through the night, the contractions getting stronger and stronger, and by the early morning she was ready to bear down. By now Samantha had changed and was wearing her gown and mask, and she told Dennis that if he wanted he could join them, but that he must wear the gown and mask she had left outside the door. He declined, however, losing his nerve at the last moment.

  “I’m glad really,” whispered Valerie. “I know it’s the modern thing and everything, but I do feel a bit undignified.”

  Samantha laughed. “I’m inclined to agree with you,” she said, as she carefully inserted two fingers, feeling the degree of cervical dilatation. Everything seemed to be going well, but Samantha was prepared for an episiotomy as Valerie was very small.

  The time passed quickly for both women, Valerie concentrating on her breathing and Samantha concentrating on all the tasks she had to perform—constant monitoring of the fetal heartbeat, Valerie’s blood pressure and above all constant encouragement to Valerie herself. When the baby’s head presented, the pain of the pressure on the perineum caused Valerie to cry out for the first time.

  Samantha hesitated. She was reluctant to perform an episiotomy, because she knew apart from the pain to the patient, the scarred tissue often presented problems with future deliveries. However, she had to try to gauge which was best, to let the baby’s head through naturally, which might result in excessive tearing of the perineum, or to make the small episiotomy incision and thus ease the baby’s progress through. The skin was stretched tightly, almost to breaking point, and all Valerie�
��s good resolution and previous practice at relaxation went out of the window as she tensed against the severe pain, making the situation worse.

  Samantha hesitated no longer, but picked up the scalpel she had laid ready and made a median incision. The blood welled out from the cut and she staunched it with a pad, but at the next push the baby’s head slid through easily and Valerie let out a great shuddering sigh of relief.

  “That was excruciating,” she whispered.

  “I know—I’m sorry,” said Samantha, “but all you have to do now is wait for a moment, while I check that the cord isn’t around the baby’s neck, and then when I give the OK you can push again and your baby will be born.”

  With an expertise born of so many years’ practice she quickly ran her finger around the baby’s neck. All was well, thank God, she thought as she breathed an inward sigh of relief and said, “You can push when you want to.”

  With the next push the baby was born, and within a few seconds he gave a lusty cry. Dennis came running into the room at the sound of the baby’s cry.

  “Is Valerie all right?” he demanded, not even looking at the baby.

  “I’m fine,” she answered weakly, exhausted now. “How is the baby?”

  Samantha was busy checking the baby over. Everything appeared to be normal; he was perhaps a little small, but that was to be expected. After all, Valerie was tiny, but he was a good healthy pink color and certainly had a good strong pair of lungs, which he proceeded to demonstrate in no uncertain manner.

  “You have a beautiful if somewhat noisy son,” she announced to Dennis and Valerie.

  Dennis looked as if he would burst with pride as Samantha wrapped the baby and handed him to an eager Valerie.

  “Our Dmitri is wonderful,” he said softly, peering in at the pink crumpled face. “He’s such a good-looking baby.”

  “Takes after his father,” said Valerie contentedly.

  They were still all three of them in the bedroom, Dennis and Valerie cooing over their newborn son, Samantha clearing up and getting ready to shoo Dennis out so that she could check over Valerie once more, when they were all startled by the sound of a car screeching to a halt outside the villa.

  Dennis left the room to go downstairs, and as he did so Samantha looked out of the window for the first time in hours. It was bright sunlight outside, the sky was its usual clear azure blue, the flowers outside seemed more brilliant than ever. She realized with incredulity, that it must be almost midday. They had all lost all track of time, being completely absorbed with the task in hand of delivering the baby.

  The sound of masculine voices could be heard coming nearer, and the clatter of footsteps on the marble stairs. Samantha raised her head and listened intently. Surely that was Adam’s voice? But it couldn’t be, she must be dreaming.

  Adam burst into the room, closely followed by Dennis. “I caught the next plane I could out of London,” he said, “but I gather I’ve arrived too late, the two of you have managed very well alone.”

  “Valerie was the perfect patient,” said Samantha quietly. “She made it easy for herself.”

  “Oh, Adam,” said Valerie, bursting into tears, “I’m so glad to see you!”

  Adam knelt by his sister’s bed and kissed her tenderly, then he looked at the still bawling red scrap wrapped up beside her. He looked up at Samantha, his eyes shining, and she could see that he was overcome with emotion as well. “My first nephew,” he said. “Everything OK?”

  Samantha nodded. Suddenly she felt very alone, an outsider looking on at the family joy. Her job was done now; apart from a few loose ends to tie up once the postnatal care was organized and established, she would be leaving here forever. She would have to get a job in another hospital and would probably never see Adam again.

  However, she kept her thoughts well in check and answered Adam carefully. “Yes, everything went normally, but I’m afraid I had to do an episiotomy, so I’m glad you’re here—you can suture it for me.”

  Adam frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not surprised,” he said. “Valerie is small and this fellow, although he’s early, isn’t so small.”

  With Samantha assisting he gave Valerie a local anesthetic and made small neat sutures. “You did a good clean episiotomy,” he told Samantha, as he was concentrating on his task. “You obviously have the touch of a surgeon.”

  “She has the touch of an angel, Adam,” said Valerie. “I don’t think I could have managed without her. Dennis and I were so frightened when the baby started to come early.”

  “So was I,” admitted Samantha. “I wanted to speak to you, Adam, before you left because Valerie’s blood pressure was a little raised the night we went to the casino.”

  “Why on earth didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, straightening his long frame as he finished suturing.

  Valerie stretched out a hand to him. “We didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know I didn’t feel well that night, but I didn’t know I had high blood pressure. You told me everything was all right,” she said accusingly to Samantha.

  “I had to say that,” replied Samantha. “The last thing I wanted was for you to worry about anything, and I was certain that the next morning I’d be able to speak to Adam. However, as you probably realize, I overslept and missed you. I could have kicked myself,” she confessed. Then she added, “I went into Corfu Town last night and tried to telephone you from a public phone, but I couldn’t get a line, and by the time I returned it was too late anyway because Valerie had gone into labor.” She sighed. “I would never have forgiven myself for going to sleep, if anything had gone wrong.”

  Adam suddenly laughed. “What are you looking so conscience-stricken about?” he asked. “Nothing did go wrong, it’s been a perfect delivery, and you’re to be congratulated.” He gave her shoulders a friendly squeeze. “Now I suggest that we do a routine check of mother and baby together and then we go and open a bottle of Dennis’s best champagne.”

  When they had finished checking Valerie and baby Dmitri, Adam left and Samantha helped Valerie with a blanket bath, then Samantha tenderly washed the baby a little, but not too much.

  “Aren’t you going to bathe him properly?” asked Valerie, propped up on one elbow watching Samantha.

  “No, it’s better to leave this waxy layer, the vernix as it’s called,” said Samantha. “I’m only washing his face a little for the moment.” Soon mother and baby were comfortably settled. Valerie had tried him at the breast and already he appeared to have the ability to suck well, even though he was only a few hours old.

  Samantha left them and went downstairs to tell Dennis and Adam that mother and baby were ready to receive visitors in style now.

  Dennis mounted the stairs carrying a magnum of champagne in a silver bucket filled with ice cubes. Adam and Maria followed behind with a tray of delicacies including caviar. Maria also had a small blue packet of her own, a present from her for the newborn baby.

  The tray was set down in the room and Dennis opened the bottle with ceremony. Happily they all raised their glasses, first to Valerie and the baby, then to Valerie and Dennis, then Dennis said, “And now, to Samantha.”

  “To Samantha,” echoed Adam and Valerie, with Maria joining in shyly.

  Samantha blushed She had never been toasted before, and certainly not for delivering a baby. She took a sip of her champagne too quickly and the bubbles prickled her nose, making her sneeze. Everybody laughed, and she felt it was one of the happiest births she had been present at. Quite different from having a baby in hospital, where everything was clinically organized.

  However, she didn’t let them forget she was a midwife first and foremost, and she firmly ushered everyone from the room after about twenty minutes. Valerie was looking tired and Samantha knew she needed a good long sleep, which she was not likely to get with her husband talking excitedly, and making the most extravagant plans for th
e baby’s future.

  As they passed out of the room Adam was the last to go. “You’re being very strict, Sister,” he said, but his eyes were laughing, inviting her to return his smile.

  Samantha firmly squashed the inclination to echo his smile and maintained a friendly but distinctly distant stance. “Valerie is still my patient,” she replied, keeping her voice impersonal.

  When Valerie had settled down and had drifted off into a well-earned sleep, Samantha went along to her room. She looked at herself in the mirror. What a sight she looked! Her hair was lank, from being cramped under the cap for so long while she had been delivering the baby, and she had dark circles of tiredness around her eyes. It was only then that she realized that she had missed a whole night’s sleep, and now it was late afternoon. Oh well, she thought as she showered and washed her hair, no point in going to bed now, I’ll just turn in early tonight.

  Adam and Dennis were sitting on the terrace talking when Samantha came down. Maria had brought out some iced coffee and small sweet Greek pastries. Dennis pulled the sunlounger over into the shade for Samantha and she sank down onto it gratefully.

  “You look all in,” remarked Adam.

  “I am,” she admitted. “I missed a night’s sleep.” She laughed. “I’m out of practice at doing night duty.”

  “Where will you go when you’ve finished here?” asked Dennis suddenly. Samantha was conscious of Adam’s eyes upon her, waiting for her reply.

  “I don’t know yet,” she said slowly. “It’s something I have to think about.”

  “There’ll always be a place for you at Princess Mary’s,” said Adam quickly. His voice held a strange note, almost of urgency—but no, that couldn’t be. Samantha looked at him and shook her head.