‘It looks blue,’ gasped Sue anxiously.
‘That’s quite normal,’ said Kate reassuringly. Turning to Melissa, she said, ‘Check the cord isn’t round baby’s neck.’ As Melissa carried out her instruction Sue was gripped by a further contraction and Kate guided out the baby’s upper shoulder. Immediately she administered an injection of an oxytocic drug to Sue to aid the separation of the placenta, then during a further contraction she delivered the lower shoulder and the rest of the baby’s body and lifted it onto Sue’s abdomen.
Turning to Mike Humphries, Kate said, ‘Come on, Dad, tell Sue what you have.’
A somewhat dazed Mike looked down at his baby with a mixture of awe and shock. ‘It’s…it’s a girl. Sue, it’s a little girl!’ he exclaimed. At that moment the baby let out a long wailing cry.
Melissa clamped the umbilical cord and Kate looked at Mike. ‘Would you like to cut the cord?’ she asked.
‘Me?’ He looked astonished.
‘Yes, why not?’ Kate handed him the appropriate surgical instrument and instructed him what to do. After Melissa had cleared mucus from the baby’s mouth and nose, Kate wrapped the baby in a blanket and passed her to Sue who gave a long, shuddering sigh of pleasure before welcoming her baby with a smile and the touch of her fingers on its tiny scrunched-up little face.
‘She’s beautiful, Sue,’ said Kate. ‘Look at those eyes—she’s watching you. And that hair. So dark, just like her dad.’ For some reason, as she said it Kate had a mental picture of Joe Fielding and how like his father he was, with his shock of dark hair and those serious grey eyes.
And as if on cue, the doors of the labour suite opened and suddenly Tom Fielding was there. No jeans and sweatshirt today but a white coat over a dark suit and with a stethoscope draped round his neck, but the rest was the same—the shock of dark hair was less tousled today and there was a serious expression in those distinctive grey eyes as he took in the scene before him.
‘Sister Ryan?’ he murmured. ‘Is all well in here?’ As he spoke, his gaze met hers briefly. In the normal course of events that probably wouldn’t have happened—he would have asked his question and she would have answered, professionally and efficiently with no need for eye contact. Today, however, was different, and only she and Tom knew why. In his glance she detected knowingness, a slight sense of familiarity, which most certainly had never been there before.
‘Yes, Mr Fielding,’ she replied. ‘Everything is fine. Sue Richards has just delivered a beautiful daughter—do we have a name yet?’ She glanced at Sue, whose head was bent over her baby, and at Mike, who was looking shell-shocked and still very pale.
‘Alice,’ Sue replied, ‘Alice Marie.’
‘Congratulations.’ Tom Fielding nodded and smiled first at Sue then at Mike.
‘That’s a lovely name.’ Kate moved forward again. ‘Right, Melissa, we have a placenta to deliver.’ When she turned round again, once the afterbirth had been safely dealt with and Sue was feeling more comfortable, and while baby Alice was being weighed and measured, she found that Tom had gone. Momentarily she felt a stab of something, disappointment maybe, but why that should be she had no idea. It wasn’t as if she had expected him to say anything about their shared meal, after all. But somehow, she supposed, she had been unconsciously hoping that he might.
Half an hour later Kate left the labour suite and made her way to the nurses’ station which was situated in the very centre of the maternity suite, surrounded by antenatal and postnatal bays, the labour suites and Maternity’s own theatres. Natalie Aldridge, staff midwife and Kate’s friend as well as colleague, was seated behind the large circular desk, a telephone receiver tucked beneath her chin as she made notes on a pile of charts on the desk. She glanced up as Kate approached then a moment later replaced the receiver. ‘Sue Richards?’ she said.
Kate nodded. ‘Yes, a little girl—Alice Marie.’
‘That’s nice.’ Natalie nodded. ‘Good traditional names for once. We’ve had two Kylies, a Courtney and a Sapphire in the last week.’
‘I doubt Melissa would agree with you.’ Kate pulled a face. ‘She’s just told me she was disappointed with the name Alice—thought it too old-fashioned. So it just goes to show you can’t please all of the people all of the time.’
They both laughed, then, growing serious, Kate said, ‘Do you think there might be any sign of a lull in which we could grab a cup of coffee?’
‘Your office?’ Natalie hopefully raised her eyebrows.
‘I was thinking more staffroom,’ Kate replied. ‘We wouldn’t get more than a minute’s peace in my office—is there anything imminent?’
‘Mrs Broughton is almost ready to deliver but Emily and Rachel are with her and they don’t foresee any problem. It is, after all, her fourth baby. We’ve had a call from Rick Fowler to say his wife is in trouble again. They’ve spoken to their GP and he’s suggested she come in. Mr Fielding knows about it—he was here a moment ago, asked if you were back from the labour suite.’ Natalie paused and looked up. ‘Oh, here he is now,’ she said.
Kate turned sharply and found Tom Fielding at her elbow. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘you gave me a start. I didn’t hear you.’ She paused. ‘I understand you were looking for me.’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I’ve been told that Jane Fowler is on her way in. I have a feeling we may have to perform a Caesarean this time—I can’t see her going any longer, especially if her blood pressure is raised again. Would you like to be in on this one?’
‘Yes, I would.’ Kate nodded. ‘I know how desperate they are to have a child, and after three miscarriages they’ve been close to despair.’
‘How many weeks is she?’ Tom took the folder Natalie passed across the desk to him and began looking through the notes.
‘Thirty-four,’ Kate replied.
‘Then I think we could well proceed.’ He nodded and shut the folder. ‘I’ll see her as soon as she arrives. Do we know exactly when that will be?’ He glanced at Natalie.
‘About an hour, we think,’ she replied.
‘That’s fine. I have an antenatal clinic now so by the time I’ve finished she should have arrived and her observations will be complete.’ He started to move away then seemed to hesitate and glanced at Kate again. ‘Good time on Saturday,’ he said. ‘Joe and Francesca enjoyed themselves.’
‘Yes, so did Siobhan and Connor.’ Kate nodded, only too aware of Natalie’s amazed expression.
‘We…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Maybe we could do it again some time.’
‘Yes,’ Kate agreed, ‘maybe we could.’ He went then, strolling away in his unhurried manner in the direction of the outpatients’ wing.
‘Whatever was all that about?’ asked Natalie.
‘All what?’ asked Kate vaguely, knowing full well what Natalie meant. It was practically unheard of for Tom Fielding to mention anything remotely connected with his family or his private life, so when he did it was bound to be a cause for speculation.
‘Him. Mr Fielding,’ said Natalie incredulously. ‘What did he mean? All that about Siobhan and Connor and his children, at least I presume he was talking about his children—Joe and Francesca? Those are their names, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, they are,’ Kate agreed.
‘Well, go on, tell.’
‘Come to the staffroom and I’ll tell you there,’ said Kate.
Kate had a quick word with staff midwife Mary Payne as to her intentions and whereabouts then led the way to the staffroom, where she poured coffee for herself and Natalie, then sank down onto one of the easy chairs facing the windows.
‘Ah,’ she said with a sigh as she eased off her shoes, ‘that’s better.’ The maternity and obstetrics staffroom was a pleasant, south-facing room which overlooked the lawns and flowerbeds at the rear of the Eleanor James Memorial Hospital—or Ellie’s, as it was affectionately known to staff and patients alike. Some patients were sitting in the grounds, taking advantage of the summer sun, either in wheelchairs or on one
of several garden seats donated by the hospital’s League of Friends. The flowerbeds around the lawns were packed with rose trees of every colour and variety and their scent was easily discernible through the open windows of the staffroom.
‘So go on, then,’ said Natalie as she sipped her coffee. ‘I’m intrigued.’
‘There isn’t really very much to tell,’ Kate replied with a sigh.
‘May I please be the judge of that?’ Natalie raised one eyebrow.
‘We went bowling—you know, to that new leisure complex.’
‘You and the children?’
‘Yes.’ Kate nodded. ‘He was there with his children, that’s all.’
‘That’s it?’ Natalie looked disappointed.
‘I told you it wasn’t much.’
‘Well, yes, I know, but I thought by the way he spoke you at least might have talked or gone for a drink together or something.’
‘Well, yes, we did actually,’ Kate admitted.
‘What—you talked?’
‘Both really, talked and went for a drink—and a pizza as well,’ she added after a moment.
‘You had a drink and a pizza with Tom Fielding?’ Natalie’s eyes were like saucers.
‘Yes.’ Kate nodded then set her mug down on a small table. ‘He came over after we’d finished our game. He said they were going for a pizza and asked if we would like to join them. Honestly, Nat, it was no big deal.’
‘Maybe not, but, well, you have to admit it’s the only time any of us have got even remotely close to the great man. So go on, tell me, what was he like? Was he the same as he is at work? You know, all serious and sort of remote?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Kate frowned and wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, actually, no, now I come to think about it, he wasn’t like that at all.’
‘So what was he like?’ demanded Natalie.
‘Well, for a start he was dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt.’
‘He’d hardly be in his greens, would he? Not for tenpin bowling.’ Natalie gave a hoot of laughter.
‘What I meant was he looked casual, not formal, and he was sort of relaxed in his manner and in his dress.’
‘So you went for this pizza—all of you?’ Natalie quite obviously hadn’t finished.
‘Yes, I said that.’ For some reason Kate was beginning to feel just a little bit irritated, which was unusual because Natalie didn’t usually irritate her—in fact, quite the opposite. It was Natalie who usually made her laugh by making her see the funny side of any situation.
‘So what are his kids like? I don’t think we’ve ever seen them.’ Natalie seemed unaware of Kate’s mood.
‘They are nice children—very well behaved. The boy, Joe, is about fourteen and is the image of his father and the girl, Francesca—she’s a pretty little thing.’
‘And does she look like her father as well?’
‘No, not really.’ Kate shook her head. ‘I dare say she takes after her mother. I can’t quite remember what his wife looks like—I think I only saw her once, at that New Year’s Eve do at the social club a few years ago.’
‘And then they didn’t stay long if I remember rightly.’ Natalie sniffed. ‘You know she left him, don’t you?’ she added after a moment.
‘Well, I know they’re divorced,’ Kate replied.
‘I wonder why she left him,’ Natalie mused. ‘Do you think it might have been because he was all mean and moody?’ She gave a delicious little shudder. ‘I quite like men like that. It usually means they have a dark, passionate side and are terrific lovers.’
‘Like your Barrie, you mean?’ said Kate, throwing her friend a sidelong glance.
‘Yes, just like my Barrie,’ said Natalie, and burst into laughter. Her husband Barrie was the dearest, kindest man but was definitely of the cuddly, what-you-see-is-what-you-get variety. ‘I love my Barrie,’ she said.
‘Yes, I know you do, so let’s forget mean and moody, shall we?’ Kate paused. ‘Anyway, he didn’t come across as mean and moody to me on Saturday—there was a lot of laughing and joking. Although, I have to say—’ She stopped.
‘You have to say what?’ Natalie had been about to take another mouthful of coffee but stopped, her mug poised.
Kate took a deep breath. ‘He mentioned Liam…and…and he was very serious…and compassionate.’
‘Well, I should hope so.’ Natalie continued drinking her coffee while Kate sat in silence for a moment, recalling how kind Tom had been towards her when they had talked about Liam. She still got that little hard knot in the pit of her stomach whenever anyone mentioned Liam, or even if she thought about him, especially if the thought came suddenly when she had been engrossed in something else. Like now. She had been sitting here drinking coffee with Natalie and chatting happily, then she had thought of Liam, mentioned him and there was that knot again. Surely by now it should be different? Would the day ever come when she would be able to think of Liam in the simple, loving way they had shared their lives instead of in anguish?
‘So do they?’
She jumped and looked at Natalie. ‘Do they what?’ she said realising that Natalie had asked her a question and she hadn’t even heard her.
‘See much of their father? Joe and Francesca?’
Kate nodded. ‘Oh, I would think so.’
‘They live with their mother,’ Natalie went on, ‘that much I do know. I heard the great man say as much once when he was talking to someone in Theatre.’
‘Yes, maybe, but it looked like they had a very good relationship with their father. I would say they see a good deal of him.’
‘What happened after your pizza?’
‘Nothing really—we had ice cream to finish off, then we went back to our cars.’
‘Didn’t he say something just now about doing it again some time?’ asked Natalie. She spoke casually, without looking at Kate, but her tone of voice was just a little too casual.
‘Yes, he did,’ Kate agreed, then drained her mug, thrust her feet back into her shoes and stood up. ‘But he was only being polite, so you needn’t go reading anything into it.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ protested Natalie, her eyes widening innocently.
‘Yes, you do,’ said Kate firmly. ‘You know exactly what I mean. You’re matchmaking again, Natalie Aldridge, and you can forget it.’
‘But, Kate—’
‘Don’t “but, Kate” me. I know you mean well but I’ve told you before, I’m just not interested, not in Tom Fielding or in anyone else. I had everything I could have ever dreamed of with Liam,’ she said, ‘and no one could ever take his place.’
With a deep sigh Natalie stood up and followed Kate out of the staffroom.
CHAPTER TWO
‘THE baby is all right, isn’t it?’ Jane Fowler looked up at Kate with anxious blue eyes.
‘Yes,’ Kate hastened to reassure her, ‘the baby is fine. There’s a good strong heartbeat but these pains you’ve been getting could indicate early labour.’
Jane’s husband Rick, who was sitting beside her bed, looked up quickly. ‘But Jane’s only thirty-four weeks.’
‘Yes, and if baby is born now, that would mean it might spend some time in the special care baby unit we have here at Ellie’s, just until it is strong enough to go home.’
‘Last time this happened, two weeks ago, Mr Fielding said he thought I would have to have a Caesarean birth,’ said Jane.
‘Well, everything settled down again on that occasion,’ said Kate as she checked the blood-pressure monitor. ‘It may well do so again now. But if a Caesarean is necessary, you don’t have anything to worry about. You will be in the hands of one of the finest obstetricians in the country.’
‘Oh, I know that,’ said Jane quickly. ‘It wasn’t that I was worrying about. It’s just that I had so hoped to be able to have a natural birth.’
‘And you may well be able to,’ said Kate firmly. ‘Mr Fielding will be here shortly to see you and the decision is his. Ah.’ She looked u
p quickly, ‘Here he comes now.’
Tom walked into the four-bedded antenatal bay in that calm way of his and stood at the end of Jane Fowler’s bed.
‘Hello, Jane,’ he said, ‘we really will have to stop meeting this way otherwise your husband may start getting suspicious.’ His remark, solemnly delivered, relieved the tension and while Jane gave a weak laugh and her husband smiled, Tom took the notes from Kate and began reading them.
‘I think,’ he said after a moment, ‘that I’d better have a little look and see what baby is up to.’
While Kate drew the curtains around the bed, Jane lifted her nightdress, revealing the large swollen mound of her abdomen. Gently but firmly Tom examined her, feeling the position of the baby and the height of her womb. It was something that Kate had witnessed many times before but for some reason, which she was unable to explain, today she found herself watching Tom more closely and the way his strong surgeon’s hands moved. They were beautifully shaped hands, square with tapering fingers. Somehow the sight disconcerted her and hurriedly she looked away.
‘I’m not going to disturb baby more than I have to today,’ he said at last, straightening up. He turned to Kate. ‘How is the blood pressure, Sister?’
Kate handed him the chart on which she had recorded a higher than normal reading.
‘And what about these pains?’ He looked down at Jane again after reading the chart.
‘They have been about fifteen minutes apart,’ Jane replied, ‘and at one time they were really quite strong.’
‘Well, what I propose,’ he said at last, ‘is that we let you rest quietly for the remainder of today then tomorrow we’ll review the situation—unless, of course, things progress before then.’
A Very Special Surgeon Page 2