by Lilian Darcy
Kit checked, and it was. She got Belinda to rest on all fours on the bed through several contractions, and attempted an external manipulation, but the baby wouldn’t budge. From the feel of the limbs, head and spine, it was well and truly wedged, but babies did flip, in utero, at the most unexpected times.
She checked the heartbeat, which was strong, and the colour of the amniotic fluid, which was clear. They could wait a while yet.
Travis Carter arrived an hour later, agitated and smelling of beer. ‘I’m in time, then?’
‘Yes, and very welcome, I think!’ Kit told him.
His wife’s contractions were becoming more frequent, and more intense. The baby had stayed exactly where it was. Belinda was very good about shuffling up and down the corridor, trying to help things along, but the baby still wouldn’t turn.
After making quite sure that Belinda and her husband were speaking to each other in amicable terms, given the story about the fight outside the pub, Kit headed towards the nurses’ station and met Gian’s private patient shuffling in the opposite direction. Gian had satisfied himself that she was doing fine, and had left some time ago.
Jodie looked tired and discouraged now, but then a contraction came, gripping her powerfully. After it was over, she said, ‘I think the baby’s dropped. I can breathe. Maybe something’s happening after all.’
For Belinda, something certainly was. ‘This is getting really, really annoying!’ she gasped. ‘It hasn’t turned, has it?’
‘No, it hasn’t,’ Kit agreed. ‘I think you’re going to need some help getting this one out, Belinda. You’ll have to have a Caesarean.’
‘Well, I’m used to problems,’ she sighed. ‘At least it’s not three months early, like Savannah was, when I was eighteen.’
Gian appeared when Belinda was already prepped for a Caesarean delivery, and Clive was on hand to give her epidural anaesthesia. Kit filled Gian in quickly and quietly on the patient’s background and her previous six pregnancies.
Abortion, premature delivery, premature delivery, miscarriage, stillbirth, postpartum haemorrhage…and this time, as well as a baby stuck in a transverse lie, Belinda had a husband bailed out from the lock-up after a boozy pub fight, just in time to get here for the delivery.
Gian raised his eyebrows, and Kit murmured, ‘I know. But she seems terrific, actually. She’s taking it all in her stride, barely complaining about the pain, resigned to another difficult delivery. Laughing about anything she can find that’s remotely funny. And the husband looks embarrassed, as if he knows he’s stuffed up. I think they’ll be OK.’
‘Hope so.’ He’d had his head bent towards her to hear her murmured words, but now he straightened, robbing her of the aura of his warmth.
Jane took Travis away to the little waiting room along the corridor, between the obstetric operating theatre and the main part of the unit, where he could chew on his nails, drink coffee and pretend to watch TV. He hadn’t wanted to be present during his wife’s surgery, although it was permitted when a patient was having epidural anaesthesia.
‘Oh, well,’ Belinda said. ‘Never mind. He hates blood.’
She must have been in enormous discomfort, because the baby’s position was horrendous, imprisoned by her slight frame. His head and shoulder were wedged under her ribs and his spine was curved down into her pelvic cavity, with feet and hands tangled in a knot in the middle. She didn’t complain, however.
Gian used the standard low transverse incision, and managed to manoeuvre him out feet first, but not without Kit’s assistance, providing pressure and pull when instructed. Working so closely together, they touched from time to time. His hip nudged her side, or his elbow brushed across her forearm. She steeled herself to ignore the moments of contact, but wasn’t always successful. She noticed he was frowning.
Fortunately, it was all over quite quickly.
‘A boy!’ Belinda exclaimed. ‘Oh, that’s great! After three girls! Travis is going to be totally rapt!’
He was.
Kit took the baby out to him while his wife was still being stitched up, and he swallowed and grinned and blinked back tears. He had ears that stuck out like jug handles and hair like a bristly brown dog. But his eyes were a warm, friendly blue and he obviously knew what love meant.
He could hardly speak as he looked at his little boy. ‘Can I…? Mum’s here. Can I take him out and…?’
‘That should be all right,’ she told him.
The baby was healthy and alert, small but strong. The waiting room was just down the corridor. There was no reason to say no.
‘But don’t be long,’ Kit added. ‘You’ll be able to go in to see Belinda as soon as she’s in Recovery.’
Kit gave him the tiny bundle and walked with him to the waiting room, where she saw an older woman, a man who was probably Travis’s father and a younger man and woman who might have been a brother and sister.
She went back to the nurses’ station to fill in Belinda’s notes, then had to field a couple of phone calls. One was from a woman at around the thirty-fifth week of pregnancy, whose feet had swollen. Should she come in? Was it dangerous? Kit asked some questions which satisfied her that the situation wasn’t urgent, gave her some advice and suggested a visit to the pre-natal clinic tomorrow.
The second call was from Jodie Bambridge’s mother, asking if there was any news. As yet, there wasn’t, although David Bambridge and midwife Alison Kiel were coaching her through some long, intense and frequent contractions now. Jodie’s mother was persistent, however, wanting details and time-frames that Kit couldn’t provide with any accuracy. It took her longer than she would have liked to deal with the call.
While she listened to Jodie’s mother, she saw one of Travis Carter’s relatives appear from along the corridor. He looked around for a few seconds, then went back the way he’d come, and she heard voices. She didn’t think anything of it at the time.
She was just about to go back to her patient, planning to collect the baby boy from his dad on the way, when Gian appeared. He looked tired around the eyes, and his hair was rumpled now that he’d removed his cap.
‘Where’s the baby?’ He massaged a tight spot at the back of his neck with fingers and thumb.
‘You just passed him, didn’t you? In the waiting room with several relatives.’
‘There’s no one in there. Belinda is in Recovery now, and she wants him. And her husband. And I’d like to grab a break before Jodie’s ready to deliver, so—’
‘Yes, go then,’ she invited him. ‘I’ll chase the baby. I’m sure he can’t have gone far.’
‘Belinda was getting anxious.’
‘There were a couple of calls.’ She glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t intend to be away this long.’
‘That’s fine. You’re doing your job. Hannah is still clearing up in Theatre, and Maree is looking after Belinda in Recovery. Just produce that baby!’
But Kit couldn’t.
Gian was right. There was no one in the waiting room. She went along to the obstetric operating theatre and adjoining recovery annexe, but encountered no one. Maree was talking to Hannah Ward, propping the Theatre door open with her shoulder. Belinda struggled to sit up in the bed as soon as she saw Kit, but her legs were still immobilised from her recent anaesthesia and she couldn’t move. This added at once to her anxiety.
‘Have you got him?’ she demanded. ‘Where is he?’
‘Your husband has him, Belinda, but for the moment I don’t know where they’ve—’
‘Was his mother there?’ Belinda cut in. ‘Has his mum come in?’
‘I think so.’
Belinda swore. ‘That woman! She’s always hated me. She’s taken him. She’s got Travis to kidnap my baby. Why did you let him take him?’ Her voice rose almost to a shriek.
Kit’s stomach became a stone inside her, heavy and hard. She remembered the male Carter relative surveying the unit before disappearing back along the
corridor, and the sound of voices, no longer coming from inside the waiting room but from the corridor itself. In the space of a few minutes, her innocent gesture of letting a proud dad take his new son out to show the grandparents had become potentially the biggest mistake of her career.
‘Don’t worry, Belinda, I’m sure he’ll be all right,’ she said automatically. ‘I’ll check. I’ll be back.’
Her voice seemed to come to her own ears from a long way away, sounding hollow, and she knew she must be white to the lips. On paper legs, she went back along the corridor to the main part of the unit. The waiting room was still empty. In Room Three, Jodie was moaning, almost drowning the sound of Alison’s reassuring voice. Gian stood in the unit kitchen, drinking coffee. The fresh smell of it made Kit queasy.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked, as soon as he saw her.
‘No, it’s not.’ Her voice was still strange, and she saw Gian’s eyes narrow at once. ‘The baby’s gone. The Carter baby.’ She tried to remain calm. ‘Or Belinda thinks he has.’
‘Gone?’
‘Taken. Kidnapped.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’ He set his mug on the counter top with an abrupt thud. ‘Let me talk to the mother.’
But Belinda was almost hysterical when they got back to her. Hannah was with her, trying to calm her down by getting a list of phone number they could try to see if Travis and the baby were there. If Travis had taken him, where might they have gone?
As soon as Belinda saw Kit, she turned on her. ‘How could you do this? How could you just give him my baby and let him walk out?’
‘I didn’t see any of them go past, Belinda. I—’
‘If something happens to him…’
Yes, it was Kit’s worst nightmare, too. She tried to rationalise. Travis had obviously been entranced by his new son. He wouldn’t intentionally harm the baby. Although on the small side, just over six pounds, the little boy had seemed robust. He was warmly wrapped, with a stretchy hat on his head to keep the heat in, and most newborns didn’t need to feed immediately.
‘I’ll make you miserable for the rest of your life!’ Belinda yelled.
‘Mrs Carter!’ Gian’s voice was rigid with authority. ‘I cannot allow you to terrorise the nursing staff.’ But his black eyes glittered coldly as he glanced at Kit, and she knew he was angry. He thought she’d mishandled this, misread the signs, and evidently he was right.
‘Let’s take this calmly, shall we?’ he went on. ‘I’ll call hospital security, and they’ll contact the police. We’ll get people working on this immediately. If your relationship with your husband is that combative, Mrs Carter, you should have told us.’
‘It’s not,’ Belinda sobbed. ‘It’s not combative. Most of the time. It’s just his mother. She’s a dragon, and she can get him to do anything she wants. I don’t know why he listens to her. She always said I was an unfit mother, and someone should take the kids away, and now she’s done it. I know she has!’
Gian went to a wall phone and pressed the three digit code that connected him to Security.
‘We’ve got a major incident,’ he said. His dark, flickering gaze swept over Kit, then moved on. ‘Can you come up straight away? And we’ll need the police as well.’ He listened for a moment, then suggested, ‘The patient conference room in the maternity unit. Would that work?’ He put his hand over the receiver and turned back to Belinda. ‘Is there any chance that the baby is in physical danger, Mrs Carter?’
‘Travis would never hurt him, I know that. But he’s a newborn. He’s so tiny, and he hasn’t been fed.’
A minute later, Gian and Kit were once again heading back along the corridor. Gian’s demeanour was icy, while Kit flamed with remorse. How could this be happening?
Gian evidently wondered the same thing. ‘For heaven’s sake, Kit, didn’t you sense that the family situation was unstable?’ He spoke with a quiet intensity that chilled her.
‘No, I didn’t,’ she retorted. ‘I filled you in on it, remember? A little chaotic, for sure, with tragedy and farce all mixed in together, but they seemed all right. They seemed to love each other. When I handed Travis the baby, he was beaming and he had tears in his eyes. I can’t believe they’ve just disappeared.’
‘You’d better start to believe it, and to take it seriously.’
‘Of course. I didn’t mean—It’s just an expression, Gian.’
Her voice cracked. She desperately wanted just a few words from him, a tiny concession. That he might have done the same thing in the same situation. That this had come from left field, and that it wasn’t her fault. Most of all, that he was sure the newborn baby would be recovered soon, and with no ill effects.
But he didn’t give an inch. ‘Even if the baby is recovered quickly, this is going to trigger a full review of unit procedures and policy. It’s going to be a nightmare, Kit.’
‘Are you laying it all on me?’ She would have been angry if she hadn’t been too upset. The underlying tension and the unresolved issues between them had flared, heating the space between them to combustion point.
‘Of course I’m not!’ he snapped. ‘But it’s another instance of the nursing staff wanting everything in the unit to be warm and fuzzy, even if that means ignoring more important issues. Laura Madigan’s baby, a few months ago, nearly suffered permanent damage as a result of the same thinking.’
‘That’s incredibly unfair!’
‘Life isn’t fair, Kit,’ he answered heavily. ‘Don’t you know that by now?’
They both heard voices coming from the waiting room at that moment. Gian looked at Kit. ‘What the—? Is that Jodie’s family?’
‘I don’t think so. I had her mother on the phone earlier, and I don’t think she was planning to come in until—’
He didn’t wait for her to finish but took three strides ahead of her and swung himself around the open doorway first, the muscles of his forearm hard and ropy as he grabbed the frame. She was right behind him. In the waiting room, Travis held his newborn son, while his parents and siblings looked on. All of them were smiling and talking, without an apparent care in the world. They smelled strongly of cigarette smoke.
‘We have quite a search party gearing up to look for you and your baby son, Mr Carter,’ Gian said. Kit recognised at once that his calm tone was pure façade. ‘Where have you been?’
Travis looked blank. ‘Down in the car park, having a smoke.’
‘You didn’t tell anyone where you were going, and no one saw you leave. How did you get out?’
‘Down the fire stairs, on the way to the operating room. We didn’t disturb any patients that way, and it was quicker than coming out to the lift.’ He frowned. ‘There isn’t a problem, is there? Can I see Belinda yet?’
‘Yes, you can see her. In fact, she’s been waiting for a while, and she’s somewhat upset. If you’ll excuse me, I have an important phone call to make. Kit, maybe you could handle this now?’ His tone was suspiciously thready.
‘I thought I wasn’t to be trusted,’ she muttered to him, still furious and weak with reaction.
‘You’ve had a reprieve,’ he muttered back. ‘And if I can call off Security within the next thirty seconds, there’s a chance we may be able to keep the lid on this fiasco after all.’
‘Thanks for your support.’ Her hard, sarcastic drawl wobbled, despite her best efforts. ‘All I care about, right now, is the fact that the baby’s safe.’
‘This isn’t personal, Kit,’ he rasped.
‘Isn’t it? It is for me.’
A beat of silence emptied the air, and then he answered, ‘Then we’d better talk, as soon as we get a chance.’
He’d left the room before she could find a reply.
Back in Recovery, Belinda burst into tears of relief as soon as she saw Travis and the baby. ‘What’s this all about, you crazy woman?’ he asked her tenderly.
‘Well, I knew you weren’t quite sober. And I know your mum didn’t think we should have had him in the first place. W
hen they couldn’t find you, I got it in my head you must have taken him away. To your sister, or somewhere. To your mum’s family in Queensland. I just panicked.’
‘It’s all OK now.’
‘Kid’s already causing trouble and he isn’t even an hour old.’ Belinda gave a wobbly laugh. ‘We’d better think of a name for him.’
Kit didn’t agree with Travis that ‘it was all OK now’. Neither, obviously, did Gian. He was still hanging around the unit when she was ready to go off at eleven, as Jodie was in transitional stage labour and almost ready to push.
‘I’ll phone you,’ Gian told Kit, and it sounded like a threat. ‘Tomorrow.’
She just nodded, and hoped no one else had heard. Jane, Deanna and Juliet were gathering for the hand-over report, and it would be a quick one with Jodie’s delivery so close.
‘We had some drama,’ Jane announced to the incoming midwives. She summarised the false alarm over the Carter baby’s disappearance in three sentences, then said, ‘Dr Di Luzio wants us to keep it very quiet. There’ll be some follow-up.’
‘Even though it was all a mistake?’ Deanna Fields asked.
‘Yes, because next time it might not be. We’ll have to review our policies regarding security and access, and the status of those fire stairs. But Dr Di Luzio doesn’t want the higher echelons of management involved at this stage. Not until we’ve got some solutions to propose. And he definitely doesn’t want the story going beyond the hospital.’
‘Are you all right about it, Kit?’ Julie Wong asked. ‘You look so flushed.’
‘It wasn’t fun at the time. I don’t think my heart’s back in the right place in my chest yet.’
‘Did Dr Di Luzio blame you for the mix-up?’
‘More or less.’
‘He’s usually more open-minded than that. Conservative in a lot of ways, but still he’s usually great.’
‘He’s right.’ Why was she defending him? she wondered. He’d been far more unpleasant than he’d needed to be. ‘There were some signs which should have had me keeping a better eye on parents and baby.’