Narrow Escape

by Marie Browne

  I was just wondering if I’d have time to get a cup of coffee when alarms went off and flashing lights lit the corridor outside. The sound of running feet brought me to mine.

  I stuck my head out of the door and asked the nearest midwife what was going on. I didn’t like the look of the flashing alarm light above the theatre door. Looking down the corridor I could see two nurses racing toward me with what I recognised as a crash cart. My whole insides turned cold.

  From the colours on her uniform the midwife I’d asked was way up in the scheme of things and she turned to me with a look that I’m sure had been withering trainees for about twenty years. “Nothing that you can help with, keep out of the way!”

  Cowed by the tone I nodded and backed into the ward. When I felt my chair hit me on the back of the knees I sat down. Five minutes later she was back. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded.

  Well, I hadn’t broken in, that was for sure and her tone was beginning to irritate. “I’m where I was told to go,” I said. “How’s Amelia, how’s the baby, is everything all right?”

  She pulled herself up to a full five foot one and snapped “I don’t know, I’m not in there I’m out here dealing with you.”

  Oooo, get you, lady. I didn’t ask to be ‘dealt with’.

  “I do know that you are not supposed to be in here, you can wait in there.” She stabbed a finger toward a door across the corridor. “Go on, off you go. Take a seat and someone will let you know what’s going on as soon as they can.”

  With a sigh, I grabbed my bag and trotted across the corridor. There was no point arguing with her, I worked in the same sort of place, I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Through the door was a tiny waiting room which, obviously due to a lack of space, was also being utilised as a store room for maternity supplies that were waiting to be unpacked. The room was white, bright, and completely featureless, I felt as if I’d been shoved into a cupboard. I’d been tidied.

  A nervous hour later and a young midwife finally stuck her head around the door. “Oh, there you are,” she said. “We’ve been looking for you, Amelia was getting worried you’d gone home.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her exactly how I’d managed to get here but then thought better of it. What would be the point? “Is everybody OK?” I asked.

  She nodded with a big smile. “Everyone is fine,” she said. Trotting ahead of me she led me back to the ward. “Look,” she said. “there they are.”

  With a swift pat on my hand she whisked away. I wandered over to the bedside. Amelia was lying on the pillows, she looked tired and very pale. “Where were you?” she said.

  “I got tidied into a cupboard, don’t ask.” I gave her a long look. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” she said. She waved a languid hand toward a clear Perspex crib that had been wheeled to the side of the bed. “But look what we made.” She gave me a huge smile.

  Chris reached into the fish tank and gently picked up the little red person inside. He gave his son a smile and said to him, “This is Grandma, you’ll get used to her, she’s a bit mad but you learn to live with it.” He handed him to me and after a long look at my new grandson I came over all odd and tearful and had to sit down so that I could study him.

  “So,” Amelia demanded, “what do you think?”

  I stared down at him again. What could I say? It’s not like I was commenting on a new pair of shoes.

  The baby fluttered his long eyelashes and gazed blankly over my shoulder with that big blue stare of all new-borns. He scrunched his little face up and then relaxed again, his little fingers curling and uncurling. “He’s absolutely beautiful,” I said. Suddenly I didn’t mind being a grandma at all.

  Amelia gave a huge yawn. “I can’t believe how tired I am, I’ve been lying in bed all day as well.”

  Chris laughed. “Well, you have been a little busy even though you have been flat on your back.”

  I shook myself away from staring into those big blue eyes. “So what happened? What was with all the alarms and running and shouting?”

  Chris glanced at Amelia and they both looked more than a little haunted. “He wasn’t breathing when he came out and it took them a little while to get him up and running.”

  Amelia swallowed hard and sniffed a little as Chris took her hand.

  “The surgery team didn’t realise, so when he came out they told me to go and have a look. When I tried to see him the baby team told me to go away again. All I caught was just a quick glimpse, he was a really odd blue colour.” Chris let go of his wife and rubbed his hands together. I could see he was itching to take the baby back just to make sure he was all right. I didn’t want to give him up but I could well understand that if I’d seen one of my children blue and lifeless I’d want exactly the same thing. I handed him over with a smile and Chris gave a huge sigh of relief.

  “Oh, what time was he born?” I didn’t really have a clear idea of what the time was now, I was so bone-tired it could have been the next day for all I knew.

  “Eleven fifty-two.” Chris read Finley’s tiny plastic bracelet.

  “Well, he got his own birthday then,” I said. When both of them gave me a quizzical look I laughed. “Eight more minutes and he’d have been sharing one with his Uncle Sam.”

  Amelia groaned. “Sam’s birthday, oh I forgot.”

  “I think, under the circumstances, he’ll forgive you,” I said.

  As it was so very late, the hospital only gave us another ten minutes before throwing us all out again. I gave Chris a ride home.

  “Where are you staying?” he said.

  “I hadn’t considered staying,” I said. “It’s Sam’s birthday tomorrow or um … today.”

  Chris nodded. “You could stay at ours, you know.”

  I thought about it for a moment and studied him, he was nearly as pale as Amelia had been. “I don’t think you need to be worrying about a house guest,” I said.

  He nodded gratefully.

  “Look, how many people are coming down tomorrow?” I navigated around one of the seemingly hundreds of tiny roundabouts that make up modern Cardiff.

  Chris yawned hugely as he tried to calculate. “Erm, my mum and step-dad and your mum and dad.”

  That was a lot of people trying to hug a new baby. I thought back to my first born. All I’d wanted was for everyone to go away so that I could study my new arrival and take in every detail. “I think that’s enough for one visit don’t you?” I said.

  Chris nodded, he really was seconds away from falling fast asleep.

  “I think I’m going to head for home,” I said. “The roads will be very quiet and I can make it by …” I checked the clock glowing in the dashboard, oh dear, it was later than I’d thought, “… dawn. We’ll all come down next weekend. That will give you a chance to get both of them home and settle down a bit.”

  Chris didn’t respond. Turning to look at him I could see that his head had fallen against the window, his mouth had dropped open and as I grinned at him he gave a gentle snore.

  After dropping Chris at home I headed for the motorway. I kept yawning and it did occur to me that this was probably a really stupid idea. I decided I’d drive until I couldn’t drive any more then I would pull over and take a nap in the car.

  Another stupid idea, that evening nearly had one generation arriving and one leaving. Driving down the empty M50 towards Tewkesbury I fell asleep and it was only providence that woke me just before I hit the central barriers. Shaking and filled with adrenaline I pulled off the road at the next services, killed the engine and lights and, after dropping my seat back, was asleep within seconds.

  When I awoke, dry-mouthed, gluey-eyed, and completely disoriented it was just after eight o’clock, so much for making it home by dawn. I called Geoff and then wandered into the services in the hope of finding a decent coffee. I staggered into the toilets and caught sight of myself in the mirrors. My hair looked as though someone had back-combed half
a beehive and then lost interest. There were bags beneath my eyes that any big supermarket would have been proud of and, just to put the cherry on the top of the cake, where I’d been sleeping against the seat, the piping had driven deep grooves into my cheeks and forehead. With my smeared make-up and crumpled clothes I looked crazed; it was no wonder that I’d been getting some funny looks.

  After five minutes communion with a cold tap and some paper towels I felt awake and looked almost human again. I treated myself to one of those weird chewy toothbrush thingies that they have in the machines in the toilets and with a large coffee in hand, I found a place to sit and enjoy waking up.

  By the bottom of the cup I was feeling quite fantastic. I decided that I was completely fine and could easily manage the rest of the drive home. I stood up and stretched, yes I was one hundred per cent again.

  I was just about to head back to the car when I felt a hesitant tap on my shoulder. I turned to face a young lady who was looking at me with concern.

  “Erm are you all right?” she asked with a smile.

  “Yes?” The word emerged, drawn out and slightly questioning.

  “Are you sure?” she said. Taking my arm she gently pulled me back down onto the seat, I was so confused I didn’t bother to resist.

  “Yes.” The word was still drawn out but I tried to inject some positivity into it.

  “We have a first aider on site if you’d like to see him.”

  Great, the only time I get decent customer service and it’s for something I don’t want, typical.

  She didn’t say anything more, just gave me a look that said, ‘I think you look like cack and I don’t want you having a heart attack on my nice polished floor.’

  I managed to get my wits about me. “Thank you,” I said. “I had a very late night and I had a sleep in the car I don’t think I’ve quite woken up yet.”

  She straightened up obviously relieved to find that I could actually speak in full sentences. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “You just looked really pale and unwell.”

  “No, no really it’s fine.” I stood up again. “I always look like this, even in summer I only manage to attain a dirty white colour. See me in a cold winter and I am actually pale blue.” I clamped my teeth together; it seemed the only way to stop myself from babbling like a complete loony.

  She laughed and then looked embarrassed. “I’m really very sorry.”

  Oh it’s awful when you try to do something nice for someone and they don’t need help, it makes you feel a right fool. It’s like asking a chubby woman when her baby’s due (I’ve done that) or offering your seat to someone who takes the whole thing as an insult (I’ve done that too). I decided to throw her a line.

  “Really, I do appreciate it, I know I look half dead at the moment and it was incredibly sweet of you to check up on me.”

  She nodded, gave me a slightly sickly smile and, cheeks flaming, walked away.

  I watched her go and felt guilty. For a moment I wondered if I could bring on a faint or something just to make her feel better. Looking around I realised that one of those ‘non crowds’ had started to grow. People weren’t exactly gathered but they were definitely looking and listening. It was time to go.

  I finally staggered back into the boat at about eleven o’clock and after wrapping myself in a quilt, collapsed face first on to the sofa with a groan.

  Handing my phone to Geoff and Sam so that they could see the pictures of the new family member, I didn’t see the world again until about three o’clock in the afternoon.

  I awoke to Charlie’s face, very close to mine. I pulled back with a little yelp.

  “Hi, Momma Bear,” she said, “I brought you a cup of tea.

  Telling myself that it was just a nice gesture and I was NOT to immediately assume the worst about my middle child. I took it with a smile. “Bleugh, good morning.”

  She hovered, watching me drink the tea. “Well, it’s good afternoon really,” she said. “How was the baby, was it all terrible? I’m never going to have one.”

  The tea was the perfect temperature and I gulped it down. I stared sadly into my empty cup and, deciding to push my luck slightly, I held it out to her in the hope that she might refill it.

  She took the mug with a big smile and said, “Another?”

  I nodded. Maybe I should have listened to those little alarm bells that were beginning to ring in my head. I didn’t, I was obviously still too full of the memories, both good and bad, of my grandson’s birth. “It was …” I hesitated; I didn’t want to put her off completely, she already had enough negative views about pregnancy, “… complicated. Amelia was running a very high temperature and in the end they had to intervene.”

  Charlie shuddered. “Did they have to … you know, cut …?”

  I nodded. “Better out than in really applies in this case.”

  She handed me my new mug of tea. “I saw the pictures,” she said. “He looks quite cute, for a baby.”

  I laughed, Charlie has never been and would never be the hearts and flowers pink child. She’s never dreamed of a big white wedding and has never been interested in home-making. Even talking about this baby was making her squirm.

  “Well,” I said, “I think humans have probably the least cute babies on the planet.”

  Charlie shook her head. “No, birds have the ugliest babies.”

  I had to agree with that. “I think it’s the lack of fur that makes them a little odd looking but they soon become cute, at six months he’ll be totally adorable.”

  “Kittens are cuter,” she said.

  I nodded. “But they grow up into great damn cats. I’m not keen on anything that grows up to be a murdering psycho.”

  “But kittens are so cute.” Charlie pushed.

  There were those alarm bells again.

  “So are puppies,” I said.

  Charlie waved a blasé hand. “Kittens are much cuter than puppies.”

  Alarm bells getting louder.

  “We’re not getting a kitten,” I said.

  “No, we don’t need to get a kitten,” she laughed.

  “I should think not, it would be mayhem in here, Mortimer would eat it and it would just be a flaming nightmare …” I was going to go on and list all the reasons why having a kitten would be just plain stupid when she cut across me.

  “Cos we’ve already got one ” Charlie gave me a great big smile and dropped a rather surprised looking handful of black fur onto my chest. “Hoorah!”

  Well, the little ball of fluff wasn’t nearly as surprised as I was and with a yelp I grabbed it and deposited it rather suddenly onto the sofa beside me. At least, I tried to. As my hand gently closed around the tiny body the kitten panicked and dug every claw and most of its teeth into my hand.

  I screamed.

  The kitten gave a squeaky hiss and bit down harder.

  Charlie screamed.

  Gritting my teeth, I tried to lever the fuzzy little pin cushion from my fingers. All I managed to do was transfer it to my other hand.

  To this day, I have no idea why I did what I did next. I can only assume that I managed to confuse kittens with parrots. I decided that, to calm everything down, I would stick my kitten covered hand under the quilt in the hope that sudden darkness would calm it down.

  It didn’t.

  Plunged into a warm darkness I can only assume that the little fur-ball thought that it was being eaten and, letting go of my hand, it attached itself to my naked thigh and then proceeded to claw and bite its way up my bare leg heading for my stomach.

  Well, that was MUCH more painful than my hand so, with another scream, I leapt out from beneath the cover and proceeded to do the ‘shake this attached furry thing off my stomach and out from under my T-shirt’ dance.

  I didn’t want to slap it away but I was certainly getting close to doing so. The kitten was making squeaky little growling noises, the poor thing was obviously terrified. Weighing in at what looked about three ounces, this cat was a fighter
and it wasn’t going to be eaten by this big pink thing without giving as good as it got.

  “WILL YOU STAND STILL!” Charlie grabbed the kitten as I lifted my T shirt.

  “Getitoff getitoff GETITOFF!” I bellowed at her.

  “I’m trying to,” she shouted back at me.

  The screaming and shouting had obviously roused Mortimer from where he had been happily chomping on a bone outside. He burst through the front doors of the boat and promptly leapt up Charlie’s leg attempting to get at the growling ball of fluff in her hands.

  Knocked over by the force of the jump Charlie dropped the kitten.

  Wide-eyed, spitting, growling and screaming, all claws outstretched I watched the poor thing fall straight towards Mortimer’s open mouth.

  “Oh my GOD!” I screamed and made a valiant grab for the falling cat.

  I missed.

  Charlie, flat on her back on the sofa watched the kitten’s descent and covered her eyes.

  The kitten had had enough. With a beautiful natural elegance it turned in mid-air and landed paws first on Mortimer’s face. Claws and teeth were immediately attached and all I managed to see was Mortimer’s big golden eyes widen in pain.

  The dog screamed and took off down the boat with the kitten impaled on his nose and eyebrows. He looked as though he’d just been attacked by that face-hugging thing from the film Alien.

  As he ran, the dog attempted to wipe the kitten off on the wall, he failed. Eventually he stopped and beat his face against the floor in an attempt to knock it off. When this also failed he spun in circles. However, the more frenzied the dog became the harder the kitten held on.

  Charlie got to him first; I was only half a step behind.