Sure, the odd doctor had in his time given a baby a bottle at night, and sitting at the nurses’ station nicking biscuits and cake was an annoyingly regular occurrence, but it was the way Ross did things. His absolute delight in the simple things in life made moments like these precious, made sitting feeding two little imps at five o’clock in the morning on a hushed children’s ward so special it almost brought a lump to Shelly’s throat.
Ross looked over as Shelly pulled Angus in for a cuddle.
‘How’s he doing?’
‘Good. He’s had all his milk, he hasn’t made a murmur all night.’
‘Has he had any paracetamol?’
‘He hasn’t needed anything,’ Shelly said lightly, but her voice trailed off as she saw a frown pucker Ross’s face.
‘Give him some anyway.’ Ross’s voice was suddenly thick, a serious look Shelly had never yet witnessed marring his normally happy face. ‘Maybe he’s in pain and has just given up complaining about it.’
‘You think he’s been abused as well?’ Shelly looked down at the dozing child in her arms and her heart ripped another inch. ‘But Dr Khan seems to think—’
‘Forget what Dr Khan “seems to think”,’ Ross interrupted bitterly. ‘Look at him, Shelly, look at him. Why isn’t he cooing like Tayla? Why isn’t he smiling or even crying come to that? Why isn’t he asking for his mum?’
There was such a raw note to his voice, such an edge of urgency that Shelly looked up from Angus, startled. Never had she seen Ross like this. Sure, he was a caring and compassionate doctor; sure, he got upset at times, they all did, but something in his voice told Shelly that Angus had touched a nerve, a raw painful nerve, and Shelly was momentarily at a loss as to how she should react.
‘Ross…’ she started, but he shook his head.
‘Leave it, Shelly.’ He took a deep breath and looked back down at Tayla. ‘Please.’
Which pretty much ended the conversation.
Standing, Shelly held Angus closer as she found his prescription chart from her neat pile on the desk and opened the drug cupboard, measuring out the medicine with one hand, a feat she had mastered to perfection after so many years on the children’s ward.
Angus took the syrup without a murmur of protest, but instead of putting him back into his cot, Shelly sat back down. In the scheme of things one extra cuddle wouldn’t make much difference, but it surely couldn’t hurt!
‘So how was your first night back?’
‘Not the best.’ Ross shrugged, his usual smile noticeably absent. ‘Nothing changes here, does it?’
‘Of course not,’ Shelly quipped. ‘Why change the habits of a lifetime?’ Still Ross didn’t smile, and Shelly felt her own smile fading as Ross continued.
‘After I left here I had to go over to the postnatal ward and check the lab results on a baby with jaundice. She needs to go under the phototherapy lights and when I told the mum she started crying because she doesn’t want her baby in the nursery away from her for the next thirty-six hours.’
‘It happens all the time, Ross,’ Shelly said lightly. ‘Why on earth would that upset you?’
‘Because it’s so unnecessary. I suggested to the midwife we move the lights into the mother’s room, she’s in a side ward, the equipment wouldn’t bother anyone else…’
‘What did the midwife say?’
‘She agreed with me,’ Ross sighed. ‘Trouble is, she’s been having the same running argument for the last three years and hasn’t got anywhere, because policy dictates that phototherapy takes place in the nursery. Apparently if we make allowances for one, all the mums will be demanding side wards if their babies need the treatment.’
Shelly sat deep in thought for a moment, her first instinct to sigh and agree with Ross, the pettiness of hospital protocol achingly familiar, and yet…
Green eyes darted upwards and suddenly Shelly felt defensive, longing to reassure him, for Ross to feel as enamoured of the place as she did, because if he didn’t…
The alternative was too awful to contemplate.
‘Doesn’t it ever get to you?’ Ross asked, breaking into her thoughts.
‘Sometimes,’ Shelly admitted. ‘But it’s a big hospital, Ross, there’s always going to be a policy that irks if you go looking for it. I just try not to let it get to me. I enjoy my work on the children’s ward, I do my job to the best of my ability and then I go home, that’s enough for me.’
‘Is it?’ Ross questioned, and Shelly took another moment as she pondered his question.
‘It has to be, Ross. I’ve got a mortgage, a child to think of. I can’t go around demanding changes, questioning the wisdom behind every decision. Sure, sometimes I get frustrated, sometimes I’d like to be able to do my own thing, but in a hospital this size it’s just not going to happen.’
‘It would in Tennagarrah.’
Shelly heard the shift in his voice, the slightly wistful note as he moved in his chair and smiled down at Tayla.
‘You really miss it, don’t you?’ She watched the slight nod of his head then ventured further. ‘If you loved it so much, how come you came back?’
‘I had my reasons.’ His eyes found hers then, but they didn’t dart away, didn’t turn back to a contented Tayla or relax into a smile. Instead, he held her gaze, not blinking or wavering as Shelly felt her colour deepen, felt the weight of his stare and the dearth of unanswered questions behind it.
Confused, self-conscious under his scrutiny, Shelly broke the moment, tore her eyes away and looked down at Angus who was sleeping peacefully now. ‘Let’s get you to bed, little guy.’
Angus’s room was quiet and Shelly lingered a moment as she tucked him in, brushing the blond curls back from his face and placing one of the hospital’s teddy bears under the blanket beside him.
But it wasn’t just Angus keeping her there. Suddenly she was strangely reluctant to go back outside without the easy diversion of feeding a baby, unnerved by the blatant openness of Ross’s stare. But there was a pile of notes waiting to be written, and hiding in a cubicle wasn’t going to get them done!
‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’ Ross grinned as Shelly opened a folder and started her nursing notes, relieved at the shift in tempo. ‘When did that happen?’
‘Sometime after I hit thirty,’ Shelly said grimly, her forehead creasing as she concentrated on the paperwork.
‘They suit you.’
His observation went without comment as Shelly worked diligently away, Kane’s history too important to be sidetracked by small-talk.
‘Talk to me, Shelly,’ Ross grumbled as she worked on in silence.
‘I’m working.’
‘So am I,’ Ross responded, placing a sleeping Tayla into the bassinet beside him. ‘Come on, Shelly, talk to me. I haven’t seen you in well over two years.’
‘You’re worse than Matthew,’ Shelly sighed. ‘At least he can amuse himself for five minutes. Look, I’m busy right now, Ross. Make yourself useful and put the kettle on.’
Which took him two seconds flat.
He really was worse than Matthew, leaning over her shoulder when she wrote, correcting her spelling and generally buzzing around like an annoying fly. A gorgeous diversion he might be at times, but right now a diversion wasn’t what Shelly wanted or needed!
‘Can I see the photos?’
‘What photos?’
‘The ones you said you had in your bag.’
‘They’re in my purse,’ Shelly mumbled, chewing on her pen and gesturing to the bag, but Ross just sat there, annoyingly close, his blue eyes boring into her rapidly darkening cheeks. ‘What now?’
‘I can’t just go through your bag. You’ll have to get them for me.’
‘You really are annoying, Ross, do you know that?’ Kicking the bag in his general direction, Shelly pointedly turned back to her notes. ‘I promise there’s nothing exciting in there. If there is, we’ll halve it.’
But for all her nonchalance, for all her supposed annoyance,
as Shelly sat there, writing, her heart was in her mouth as she focussed on the blur of words in front of her, struggling with an overwhelming desire to turn her head to see Ross’s reaction when he saw Matthew for the first time, though why it should matter, why his opinion should count for much, Shelly truly couldn’t fathom.
‘He’s beautiful, Shelly.’ Ross’s voice was quiet and there was a difference she couldn’t pin down, a subtle shift from the observations he had so readily imparted about Kane and Tayla. She acknowledged him then. Turning, she caught her breath as he took in the pictures, his eyes scanning each shot, a flickering smile lighting up his tired face.
‘He’s just gorgeous.’
She waited, but the words she silently dreaded didn’t materialise, didn’t impinge on the moment. No ifs or buts, no sighs or if onlys.
Ross in his own sweet way had said the three little words Shelly really needed to hear.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘HOW was your night, sweetheart?’ Marlene flicked on the kettle the second a weary Shelly pushed open the front door.
‘Busy,’ Shelly answered, a huge smile splitting her tired face as a pyjama-clad bundle dived off the couch and ran the length of the hallway. ‘Hi, Matthew.’ Her instinct was to scoop her son into her arms and kiss the Vegemite-streaked face but, ever mindful of bringing germs home from work, Shelly settled instead for a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Just let Mummy have a quick shower, darling, and I’ll be with you in a moment.
‘Two minutes,’ she added to Marlene, before darting into the bathroom and taking the quickest shower in history and dressing at lightning speed.
Everything seemed to be done at lightning speed these days.
Work, crèche runs, cooking, cleaning, even mothering.
‘How was he?’ Running a comb through her long auburn curls, Shelly scraped her hair into a scrunchy before taking a grateful sip of her coffee.
‘Fine. Once he went down, he slept all night.’ There was a long pause, which struck Shelly as unusual. Marlene was normally regaling her with tales, not necessarily about Matthew. They could be anything from the movie she’d seen, the newspaper headlines, to what she was cooking for dinner that night—anything other than silence.
‘What’s wrong, Mum?’
‘Nothing.’ Marlene’s voice didn’t sound particularly convincing as she busied herself stacking dishes before turning around, a worried frown out of place in her usual sunny face. ‘You know there’s a group of our friends going to Fiji on Saturday?’
Shelly nodded. ‘That’s right. You didn’t want to go.’
‘We did want to go.’ Her voice was wary and Shelly jerked her face up as Marlene continued. ‘We just didn’t think it would be fair on you.’
‘What on earth made you think that?’ Shelly wailed. ‘Of course you should have gone. I’d have managed.’
‘How?’
‘Matthew’s in crèche now. I’d have worked my shifts around and if not I’d just have taken annual leave. You and Dad do enough for us, you deserve a holiday. I can’t believe you’d pass one up without talking to me first.’ Shelly was gesturing wildly in the air, the longed-for cup of coffee quickly forgotten as she struggled with what her mother was telling her.
Ken and Marlene had been wonderful.
Wonderful.
When Neil had dropped the bombshell that their marriage was over, Ken and Marlene had put their hands up straight away. Had picked up a shell-shocked mother and her newborn from the hospital as if it had been the most natural thing in the world, and had practically spoon-fed Shelly through those blurry postnatal days until gradually her reserves had strengthened. They’d helped her find a new house, decorating it for her until it had become a home, babysitting endlessly, there at the drop of a hat or a ring of the telephone, sleeping over in Shelly’s house when she’d worked nights so as not to disrupt Matthew’s routine and generally going way beyond the call of any dutiful parent.
And it was starting to show.
Marlene and Ken were getting older, and co-raising a boisterous toddler, exhausting at the best of times, was a hard feat as they neared their sixties. The endless guilt Shelly felt as she saw her own parents suspend their lives in the name of love surfaced at that moment and she struggled with tears that welled in her eyes.
‘Why didn’t you talk to me, Mum?’
‘I am talking.’ Marlene forced a smile. ‘June and Roland can’t go. She’s got to have a little operation, and if she puts it off, heaven knows when her name will come up again. If they back out now, they’ll lose all their money…’
‘You and dad could take their places,’ Shelly said quickly, as Marlene gave a worried nod.
‘That’s what we were thinking.’
‘Do it, Mum. Please.’
‘But how on earth will you manage?’ Marlene asked hesitantly.
‘Like every other single parent!’ Shelly exclaimed. ‘How long will you be gone?’
‘A week,’ Marlene said doubtfully.
‘I can manage for a week, for goodness’ sake!’ Shelly exclaimed. ‘If you pass this up I’ll never forgive myself and I’ll be furious with you. I’m furious already that you didn’t even discuss it with me the first time around. Look, Matthew’s my son, not yours. You and Dad have been wonderful but I don’t want you to give up your lives for us. Dad should be enjoying his retirement, not worrying about crèche runs and babysitting duties…’
‘We love doing it,’ Marlene protested.
‘I know that, Mum,’ Shelly said wearily. ‘And, to be honest, I don’t know how I’d have managed without you, but I have to start standing up on my own two feet a bit more, I have to start holding the reins by myself, and a week without you will be a good practice run. When do you have to let June and Roland know by?’
‘This morning.’
Shelly deliberately didn’t sigh, purposely kept on smiling as the cosy image of her warm bed was pulled from under her. ‘Good. You go and tell them yes and I’ll drop Matthew at crèche then I’ll go and speak to Tania, the unit manager, about my roster.’
‘But you’re tired. Why don’t you just ring her and then go to bed? I can take Matthew to crèche for you.’
‘No.’ Shelly’s voice was firm but kind. ‘He doesn’t like going there and I know how upset you get when you leave him.’
‘It’s for the best, though,’ Marlene’s voice was wary as Shelly blew out her cheeks. ‘It is, Shelly. You know Neil’s not my favourite person in the world, but he did look long and hard into the best crèche for Matthew. If he follows this programme, he might even be able to go to a normal school.’
‘With an aide,’ Shelly pointed out.
‘Still, it would be nice.’
‘For who?’ Shelly started, then bit her tongue. Matthew’s education wasn’t on the agenda this morning. ‘His crèche is on the way to the hospital, and it really would be better for me to talk to Tania face to face than do it over the telephone. Anyway…’ Shelly managed a reassuring grin ‘…you’ve got to get to the travel agent.’
‘Just give him a kiss and tell him you’ll be back at five, Shelly. He’ll soon stop crying when you’re gone.’
When I’ve abandoned him, you mean.
Shelly knew Lorna, the childcare worker, meant well. Knew from her own nursing experience that invariably once the parents had gone children quickly settled. But Matthew wasn’t in hospital, this wasn’t a two-day admission with the mum popping home for a shower and freshen-up. This was a Monday-to-Friday occurrence and it was tearing Shelly to shreds.
Crying in the car park over her steering-wheel was another Monday-to-Friday occurrence.
Matthew should be at home with her, making fairy cakes, or mud cakes in the garden, sleeping in his own bed for his afternoon nap. She should be working part time for pleasure, not full time to support them.
Bloody Neil and his big-shot ideas.
Turning on the engine, Shelly wiped the back of her damp cheeks with a shaking hand.
/> Early intervention, integration. Neil relieved his guilt by paying half of the crèche fees and he had the gall to think he was helping. Shelly didn’t want intervention—she wanted to care for her own child in her own home. And as for integration!
‘Don’t get me started,’ Shelly muttered to herself.
Why should going to a normal school be the ultimate goal? Why should matching his peers in their milestones be the be-all and end-all?
Matthew was different, and it would seem Shelly was the only person in the world prepared to accept the fact.
Tania didn’t exactly roll on the floor laughing at Shelly’s request to yet again juggle the roster, but the incredulous look she imparted as Shelly falteringly outlined her parents’ plans pretty much made the message clear.
‘I’d love to help,’ Tania sighed, running her eyes down the roster, ‘but I just don’t see how I can.’
‘If I can go back onto days for just a week then I could drop Matthew at crèche early. I couldn’t do the late shift, though,’ Shelly mumbled. ‘The crèche is only open until six…’ Her voice trailed off as Tania shook her head.
‘The whole point of implementing internal rotation was to share the load, and I’m sorry to say this, Shelly, but in your case this simply isn’t happening. You can’t expect the other staff to keep covering for you—they’ve got families of their own to worry about.’
Cheeks flaming, Shelly deliberately didn’t rise, her parents’ holiday enough incentive to force the issue. ‘Can I have some annual leave, then?’
‘You’ve used up all your annual leave, Shelly,’ Tania pointed out, running her eye along the holiday schedule. ‘In actual fact you owe the ward eight hours.’
‘Then can I take it as unpaid leave?’ Shelly pushed, hating the fact she was reduced to begging, but there really was no other alternative. ‘I hate asking, but it’s important.’
‘It always is with you, Shelly.’ Tania sighed as she put down her pen and fixed her junior with a firm stare. ‘I’m sorry, but in this instance my hands are tied, there’s just no one to cover you. I’ve just received yet another memo from Admin about cutting back on agency staff.’ Her voice had a slightly pained edge. ‘Last month it was Matthew’s grommets, the month before chickenpox…’
The Baby Emergency Page 5