Unwrapping Her Italian Doc

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘It wasn’t worth it.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘I know you think I’m a flirt …’

  ‘I like that about you.’

  ‘But I’m only really like that with you,’ Louise said. ‘I mean that. I used to be a shocking flirt and then when I started going out with Wesley … well, I got told off a lot.’

  ‘For flirting with other men?’

  ‘No!’ Louise said, shuddering at the memory. ‘He decided that if I flirted like that with him, then what was I like when he wasn’t there? I don’t want to go into it all, but I changed and I hate myself for it. I changed into this one eighth of a person and somehow I got out—on Christmas Eve last year. It took months, just months to even start feeling like myself again.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Do you know the day I did?’ Louise asked, smiling as she turned to face him.

  ‘No.’

  ‘We were going to Emily’s leaving do and I saw you in the corridor and I asked you to come along …’

  ‘You were wearing red,’ Anton easily recalled. ‘You were with Emily.’

  ‘That’s right, it was for her leaving do. Well, even when I asked if you wanted to come along, I deep down knew that you wouldn’t. I was just …’ She couldn’t really explain. ‘I was just flirting again … sort of safe in the knowledge that it wouldn’t go anywhere.’

  ‘But it has,’ Anton said.

  ‘I guess.’ Louise smiled. ‘Have you ever been married?’ Louise asked.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I just wondered.’

  ‘No,’ Anton said. ‘Have you?’

  ‘God, no,’ Louise said.

  ‘Have you ever come close?’

  ‘No,’ Louise admitted.

  ‘You and Rory?’

  Louise laughed and shook her head. ‘We were only together a few weeks. Just when we started going out I found that it was likely that I was going to have issues getting pregnant. It was terrible timing because it was all I could think about. Poor Rory, he started going out with a happy person and when the doctor broke the news I just plunged into despair. It wasn’t his baby I wanted, just the thought I might never have one. It was just all too much for him …’ She looked at Anton. ‘I think I was just low at that time and that’s why I must have taken my bastard alert glasses off. I’ve made a few poor choices with men since then.’ She closed her eyes. ‘None worse than Wesley, though.’

  ‘How bad did it get?’ Anton asked, but Louise couldn’t go there and she shook her head.

  ‘What about you?’ Louise asked. ‘Have you been serious with anyone?’

  ‘Not really, well, there was one who came close …’ It was Anton who stopped talking then.

  Anton who shook his head.

  He simply couldn’t go there with someone who might just want him for a matter of weeks.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘CAN YOU KEEP a close eye on Felicity in seven?’ Anton asked. ‘She’s upset because her husband has been unable to get a flight back till later this evening.’

  Felicity was one of Anton’s high-risk pregnancies and finally the day had arrived where she would meet her baby, but her husband was in Germany with work.

  ‘How is she doing?’ Louise asked.

  ‘Very slowly,’ Anton said. ‘Hopefully he’ll get here in time.’ He picked up a parcel, beautifully wrapped by Louise. ‘I’m going to give this to Shirley now. She’s only in this morning to sort out my diary before she takes three weeks off. Then I will be in the antenatal clinic. Call me if you have any concerns.’

  ‘Yes, Anton,’ Louise sighed.

  Anton heard her sigh but it did not bother him.

  Things were not going to change at work. In fact, he was more overbearing if anything, just because he didn’t want a mistake to come between them.

  ‘This is for you,’ Anton said, as he went into Shirley’s office. ‘I just wanted to thank you for all your hard work this year and to say merry Christmas.’

  ‘Thank you, Anton.’ Shirley smiled.

  ‘I hope you have a lovely break.’

  He went to go, even as she opened it, but her cry of surprise had him turn around.

  ‘How?’

  Anton stared. His usually calm secretary was shaking as she spoke.

  ‘How did you manage to get this—there were only twenty places.’

  ‘I got there early.’

  ‘You lined up to get me this! Oh, my …’

  Anton felt a little guilt at her obvious delight. It really had been far from a hardship to be huddled in a queue with Louise, but it was Shirley’s utter shock too that caused more than a little disquiet.

  ‘I never thought …’ Shirley started and then stopped. She could hardly say she’d been expecting some bland present from her miserable boss. ‘It’s wonderful,’ she said instead.

  God, Anton thought, was he that bad that a simple nice gesture could reduce a staff member to tears?

  Yes.

  He nodded to Helen, the antenatal nurse who would be working alongside him, and he saw that she gave a slightly strained one back.

  Things had to change, Anton realised.

  He had to learn to let go a little.

  But how?

  ‘How are things?’ Louise asked, as she walked into Felicity’s room with the CTG machine.

  ‘They’re just uncomfortable,’ Felicity said. She was determined to have a natural birth and had refused an epidural or anything for pain. ‘I’m going to try and have a sleep.’

  ‘Do,’ Louise said. ‘Do you want me to close the curtains?’

  Felicity nodded.

  Brenda popped her head in the door. ‘Are you going to lunch, Louise?’

  ‘In a minute,’ Louise said. ‘I’m just doing some obs.’ Both Felicity and the baby seemed fine. ‘I’ll leave this on while I have my lunch,’ Louise said about the CTG machine, and Felicity nodded. ‘Then later we might have a little walk around, but for now just try and get some rest.’

  She closed the curtains and moved a blanket over Felicity, who was half-asleep, and left her to the sound of her baby’s heartbeat. Louise would check the tracing when she came back from her break and see the pattern of the contractions.

  ‘Press the bell if you need anything and I’ll be here.’

  ‘But you’re going to lunch.’

  ‘Yep, but that buzzer is set for me, so just you press it if you need to.’

  ‘Thanks, Louise,’ Felicity said. ‘What time are you here till?’

  Louise thought before answering. ‘I’m not sure.’

  Louise left the door just a little open so that her colleagues could easily pop in and out and could hear the CTG, then headed to the fridge and got out her lunch.

  ‘Fancy company?’ Louise asked Emily as she knocked on her open door.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Emily sat up in the bed. ‘How was the party?’

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘Why didn’t you text me all weekend?’

  ‘I did!’ Louise said.

  ‘Five-thirty on a Sunday evening suggests to me you were otherwise engaged.’

  ‘I was busy,’ Louise said, ‘Christmas shopping!’

  ‘You lie,’ Emily said.

  ‘Actually, I need to charge my phone,’ Louise said, because she hadn’t been back home since being at Anton’s. ‘Can I borrow your charger?’

  ‘Sure.’ Emily smiled. ‘That’s not like you.’

  Louise said nothing. She certainly wasn’t going to admit to Emily her three-night fest with Anton. As she plugged in her phone and sat down, the background noise of Felicity’s baby’s heartbeat slowed. Louise was so tuned into that noise, as all midwives were, and she didn’t like what she had just heard.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Emily asked.

  ‘I think I’ve got restless leg syndrome.’ Louise gave a light response. ‘I’m just going to check on someone and then I’ll be back.’

  She went quietly into Felicity’s room. Felic
ity was dozing and Louise warmed her hand and then slipped it on Felicity’s stomach, watching the monitor and patiently waiting for a contraction to come.

  ‘It’s just me,’ Louise whispered, as Felicity woke up as a contraction deepened and Emily watched as the baby’s heart rate dipped. She checked Felicity’s pulse to make sure the slower heart rate that the monitor was picking up wasn’t Felicity’s.

  ‘Turn onto your other side for me,’ Louise said to the sleepy woman, and helped Felicity to get on her left side and looked up as Brenda, alerted by the sound of the dip in the baby’s heart rate, looked in.

  ‘Page Anton,’ Louise said.

  Even on her left side the baby’s heart rate was dipping during contractions and Louise put some oxygen on Felicity. ‘We’ll move her over to Delivery,’ Brenda said.

  ‘Have you heard from Anton?’

  ‘I’ve paged him but he hasn’t answered,’ Brenda said.

  ‘I’ll see if he’s in the staffroom.’

  Louise raced around to check but Anton wasn’t there.

  She paged him again and then they moved Felicity through to the delivery ward. They were about to move her onto the delivery bed but Louise decided to wait for Anton before doing that as she listened to the baby’s heart rate. The way this baby was behaving, they might be running to Theatre any time soon.

  She typed in an urgent page for Anton but when there was still no response Louise remembered her phone was in Emily’s room. ‘Text him,’ Louise said to Brenda, and, ripping off a tracing, Louise left Felicity with Brenda and swiftly went to a phone out of earshot.

  ‘Are the pagers working?’ she asked the switchboard operator. ‘I need Anton Rossi paged and, in case he’s busy, I need the second on paged too, urgently.’

  She then rang Theatre and, because she had worked there for more than five years, when she rang and explained they might need a theatre very soon, she knew she was being taken seriously and that they would immediately be setting up for a Caesarean.

  ‘I can’t get hold of Anton,’ Louise said, but then she saw him, his phone in hand, racing towards them. ‘Anton! Felicity’s having late decelerations. Foetal heart rate is dropping to sixty.’

  ‘How long has this been going on?’

  ‘About fifteen minutes.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me sooner! Hell! If Brenda hadn’t texted me …’ Anton hissed, taking the tracing and looking at it in horror, because time was of the essence. With pretty much one look at the tracing the decision to operate was made. For Anton it was a done deal.

  It was like some horrific replay of what had happened two years ago.

  ‘I paged you when it first happened,’ Louise said, but there wasn’t time for explanations now. As Anton went into the delivery room the overhead speakers crackled into life.

  ‘System error. Professor Hadfield, can you make your way straight to Emergency? Mr Rossi, Delivery Ward, room two.’

  Anton briefly closed his eyes.

  ‘Mr Rossi, urgently make your way to Delivery, room two. System error—pagers are down.’

  And so it repeated.

  ‘Is that for me?’ Felicity cried, terrified by the urgency of the calls overhead.

  ‘Hey …’ Louise gave Felicity a cuddle as Anton examined her. ‘It’s just that the pagers are down and so I had to use my whip a bit on Switchboard to get Anton here.’

  ‘Felicity.’ Anton came up to the head-end of the bed. ‘Your baby is struggling …’ Everything had been done. She was on her side, oxygen was on and she was still on the bed so they could simply speed her to Theatre. ‘We’re going to take you to Theatre now and do a Caesarean section.’

  ‘Can I be awake at least?’

  ‘We really do need to get your baby out now.’

  ‘I’ll be there with you,’ Louise said, as the porter arrived. ‘I am not leaving your side, I promise you. I can take some pictures of your baby if you like,’ Louise offered, and Felicity gave her her phone.

  ‘Can you let Theatre know?’ Anton said, before he raced ahead to scrub.

  It took everything she could muster to keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘I already have, Anton.’

  Louise and the porter whisked the bed down the corridor. There was no consent form to be signed—that had been taken care of at the antenatal stage.

  ‘I’m so scared,’ Felicity said, as they wheeled her into Theatre.

  ‘I know,’ Louise said, cleaning down her shoes and popping on shoe covers, then she put on a theatre hat and gown. ‘You’ve got the best obstetrician,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve seen him do many Caesareans and he’s brilliant.’

  ‘I know.’

  The bed was wheeled through and Louise’s old colleagues were waiting. Connor and Miriam helped Louise to get Felicity onto the theatre table and she smiled when she saw Rory arrive. He was a bit breathless and as he caught his breath Louise spoke on. ‘You’ve got an amazing anaesthetist too. Hi, Rory, this is Felicity.’

  Rory was lovely with Felicity and went through any allergies and previous anaesthetics and things. ‘I’m going to be by your side every minute,’ he said to Felicity. ‘Till you’re awake again, here is where I’ll be.’

  ‘I’ll be here too,’ Louise said.

  Theatre was filling. The paediatric team was arriving as Rory slipped the first drug into Felicity’s IV.

  ‘Think baby thoughts,’ Louise said with a smile as Felicity went under.

  Louise was completely supernumerary at this point. She was simply here on love watch for one of her mums. And so, once Felicity had been intubated, Louise simply closed her mind to everything, even bastard Anton. She just sat on a stool and thought lovely baby thoughts.

  She heard the swirl of suction and a few curses from Anton as he tried to get one very flat baby out as quickly as possible.

  Then there was silence and she looked up as a rather floppy baby was whisked away and she kept thinking baby thoughts as they rubbed it very vigorously and flicked at its little feet. She glanced at Rory as another anaesthetist started to bag him.

  But then Rory smiled and Louise looked round and watched as the baby shuddered and she watched as his little legs started to kick and his hands started to fight. His cries of protest were muffled by the oxygen mask but were the most beautiful sounds in the world.

  Louise didn’t look at Anton, she just told Felicity that her baby was beautiful, wonderful, that he was crying and could she hear him, even though Felicity was still under anaesthetic.

  Anton did look at Louise.

  She did that, Anton thought.

  She made all his patients relax and laugh, and though Felicity could not know what was being said, still Louise said it.

  He could have honestly kicked himself for his reaction but, God, it had been almost a replica of what had happened back in Italy.

  ‘He’s beautiful,’ Louise said over and over.

  So too was Louise, Anton thought, knowing he’d just blown any chance for them.

  Louise was beautiful, even when she was raging.

  Not an hour later she marched into the male changing room and slammed the door shut.

  ‘Hey, Louise,’ called Rory, who was just getting changed. ‘You’re in the wrong room.’

  ‘Oh, I’m in the right room,’ Louise said. ‘Could you excuse us, Rory, please?’

  ‘We will do this in my office,’ Anton said. Wet from the shower, a towel around his loins, he did not want to do this now, but Louise had no intention of waiting till he got dressed. She was far, far beyond furious.

  ‘Oh, no, this won’t keep.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Rory called to Anton as he left them to it.

  And then it was just Louise and Anton but even as he went to apologise for what had happened earlier, or to even explain, Louise got in first.

  ‘You can question my morals, you can think what you like about me, but don’t you ever, ever—’

  ‘Question your morals?’ Anton checked. ‘Where the hell di
d that come from?’

  ‘Don’t interrupt me,’ Louise raged. ‘I’ve had it with you. What you accused me of today—’

  ‘Louise.’

  ‘No!’ She would not hear it.

  ‘I apologise. I did not realise the pagers were down.’

  ‘I did,’ Louise said instantly. ‘When you didn’t come, or make contact, it was the first thing I thought—not that you were negligent and simply couldn’t be bothered to get here …’

  Her lips were white she was so angry. ‘I’m going to speak to Brenda and put in an incident report about the pagers today, and while I’m there I’m going to tell her I don’t want to work with you any more.’

  ‘That’s a bit extreme.’

  ‘It’s isn’t extreme. I’ve thought about doing it before.’ She saw him blink in surprise. ‘Everything I do you check again—’

  ‘Louise …’ Anton wasn’t about to deny it. He checked on her more than the other midwives, he was aware of that. In trying to protect her, to protect them, from what had happened to him and Dahnya, he had gone over the top. ‘If I can explain—’

  But Louise was beyond hearing him. She lost her temper then and Louise hadn’t lost her temper since that terrible day. ‘You don’t want a midwife,’ Louise shouted, ‘you want a doula, rubbing the mums’ backs and offering support. Well, I’m over it, Anton. Have you any idea how demoralising it is?’ she raged, though possibly she was talking more to Wesley than Anton. ‘Have you any idea how humiliating it is …?’

  Anton took a step forward, to speak, to calm her down, and then stood frozen as he heard the fear in her voice.

  ‘Get off me!’ She put her hands up in defence and there was a shocked moment of silence when she realised what she had said, what she had done, but then came his calm voice.

  ‘I’m not touching you, Louise.’

  She pressed her hands to her face and her fingers to her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ Louise said, ‘not for what I said before but—’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Anton was breathless too, as if her unleashed fear had somehow attached to him. ‘We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down.’

  ‘No.’ Louise shook her head, embarrassed at her outburst but still cross. ‘We won’t talk because I don’t want to hear it, Anton.’ And then turned and left.