It was a couple more hours before the baby was born, by which time Amy was exhausted, both by the physical strain of her labour and the emotional trauma. She could barely raise her head to look at her son before he was whizzed away by one of the neonatal team.
‘What happens now?’ she whispered.
‘Dr Grey and his team are intubating him and starting ventilation,’ Polly explained, glancing over to where Elliot was working to stabilise the little boy. He looked up and nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief because it appeared that the first step had been successful. She smiled at Amy. ‘They’ve done that so they will take him to the neonatal unit now.’
‘And then what’s going to happen?’ Amy asked, tears starting to trickle down her face.
‘He’ll be closely monitored and once it’s clear that his lungs are strong enough then the hole in his diaphragm will be repaired.’
‘And he’ll be all right after that?’ Amy said hopefully. ‘Once he’s had the operation, he’ll be fine?’
‘He may need support with his breathing for several weeks afterwards,’ Polly warned her because it would be wrong to let Amy think that everything was cut and dried. She needed to prepare herself for the fact that her baby would need a lot of extra care in the early days. ‘He will probably need help with feeding as well but the nurses on NICU will show you what to do, so there’s no need to worry about that.’
‘And you’ll be there when I take him home if I have any problems,’ Amy said, sounding relieved.
Polly didn’t say anything but just smiled. She didn’t want to upset Amy any more by explaining that she would be leaving Beesdale very shortly. She helped one of the other midwives to deliver the placenta but the thought preyed on her mind. It was upsetting to know that she wouldn’t be able to play any part in this baby’s life in the future. Once she left then Amy and the rest of her mums would become the responsibility of someone else and she hated to think that she would no longer be involved in their care.
Was she making the right decision? she wondered then sighed. She was no longer sure, if she was honest. She would be leaving so much behind, not just her mums and the town she loved, but Elliot as well. The thought of never seeing him again was incredibly painful, especially after the way he had spoken up for her earlier. If she stayed, was there a chance that he might come to care for her? It was a tantalising thought even though she knew that it was unlikely to happen. Elliot was still in love with his ex-wife and he still bore the scars from her leaving him. There was no place for Polly in his life or in his heart.
* * *
Elliot was quietly optimistic when he left NICU a short time later. The hole in baby Carmichael’s diaphragm was less than an inch long, which meant that only a small section of his gut had entered his chest cavity. Although Elliot had ordered an ultrasound to be done on the baby’s heart, as CDH could be associated with other abnormalities, he didn’t think that was the case in this instance. The baby was responding well to initial treatment, although it was too early to say if he would survive. It depended on how much lung tissue had been damaged but Elliot was hopeful that he would pull through. He hated to think how upset Polly would be if the baby died.
He sighed as he made his way to the coffee shop in the foyer. Once again he was relating everything that happened to Polly. He knew he should stop but it was hard. She gave so much of herself to the mums she cared for and it had brought it home to him once more how wrong he had been about her and the job she did. There was a place for community midwives and it was Polly who had made him understand that—Polly who had changed his view about so many things. He was a different person since he had met her.
Rounding the corner, Elliot stopped dead when he came face to face with the person who seemed to constantly occupy his thoughts. Polly ground to a halt as well, her face colouring, and he frowned. Was she thinking about the other night and feeling guilty? Wishing it had never happened? Logic shouted a resounding yes but he wasn’t listening to logic at that moment. He was listening to his heart and it was screaming, no, no, no! So, if it was right, why had Polly stopped him kissing her, stopped herself from kissing him back? All of a sudden Elliot knew that he wouldn’t rest until he found out the real answer.
‘Hi! I was hoping you hadn’t left,’ he said quickly. ‘I wanted to fill you in on how Amy’s baby is doing.’ He nodded towards the coffee shop in the corner of the foyer. ‘I could murder a cup of coffee—how about you?’
‘Oh...erm...well, all right then.’
Elliot hurriedly led the way when he heard the hesitation in her voice, not wanting to give her time to reconsider. The place was busy as usual but he spotted an empty table near the window and pointed to it. ‘If you grab that table, I’ll fetch the coffee. What do you want?’
‘Just a filter coffee,’ she told him, and he nodded.
‘Okey-dokey. Won’t be long.’
Elliot joined the queue, trying to contain his impatience as he waited his turn. Now that he had decided on a course of action, he was eager to get on with it. He ordered two filter coffees and two bacon rolls to go with them and paid at the till. Polly was staring out of the window when he went back to the table and he found himself admiring the purity of her profile before he forced himself not to get side-tracked. He needed a clear head if he was to solve this mystery and he couldn’t achieve that if he was thinking about how much he wanted her. The thought made his hands tremble and he grimaced when coffee slopped over the sides of the cups as he set the tray on the table.
‘Sorry. I’ll fetch some more napkins to wipe that up.’
‘Don’t bother—it’s fine.’
Polly took one of the cups off the tray. Running her finger down the side, she mopped up the coffee. Elliot’s head began to pound when he saw her lift her finger to her mouth and lick it. There was something incredibly erotic about the gesture...
‘I got us a couple of bacon rolls as well,’ he said, desperate to ward off the thoughts that were rioting around his head. Thinking about how her tongue would taste, flavoured with coffee, was never going to help him focus! ‘I didn’t know if you preferred brown sauce or red so I got both.’
He dumped a handful of sauce packets onto the table and sat down, praying that she couldn’t tell how keyed up he felt. What was it about Polly that made him feel this way? He had made up his mind a long time ago that he would never get involved with a woman again and yet Polly only had to do something as innocuous as lick her finger and he forgot about all that. All he could think about was how wonderful it would be to hold her in his arms and know that she would be his for ever. Was he falling in love with her? His heart lurched. He must be if he was willing to risk being hurt again.
* * *
Polly could feel the tension in the air and wished with all her heart that she had refused the offer of coffee. No good would come of spending more time with Elliot, would it? It merely reminded her how much she was going to miss him when she left. Picking up the cup, she took a sip of the coffee, hoping it would steady her. Elliot was speaking and she forced herself to concentrate. The last thing she wanted was for him to guess how difficult this was for her. She had never been someone who hid her emotions but she had to hide them now.
‘There’s a long way to go before we can even consider the idea that the baby will make it, but I’m hopeful, shall we say.’ He picked up a packet of sauce and squeezed some onto his bacon roll.
‘Not many babies with CDH survive,’ Polly said carefully, measuring every word.
‘Sadly, not.’ He sighed as he wiped his fingers on a paper napkin. ‘Over eighty per cent of babies diagnosed with CDH antenatally die either before or straight after birth.’
‘I didn’t realise it was so many!’ Polly exclaimed in genuine surprise.
‘Unfortunately, yes. As you know, the condition is often linked to other abnormalities as we
ll. However, if there aren’t any then roughly half of those babies survive.’
‘Do you think Amy’s baby has anything else wrong with him?’ she asked quickly, because it was better if she focused on something other than her own feelings.
‘No. I’ve ordered an ultrasound of his heart but I don’t think there’s anything else lurking in the background. If I’m right then he has a fifty-fifty chance of pulling through, assuming he survives the operation, of course.’
‘Does Amy know all this?’ Polly asked, her heart aching at the thought of Amy being hit with all this information. It was such a lot to take in.
‘Not yet. I thought I’d wait until her husband gets home before I explain it all to them.’ He shrugged. ‘It might make it that bit easier for her if he’s with her.’
Polly felt a wave of warmth invade her. Had Elliot’s attitude softened because he could relate to how Amy was feeling? She knew it was true and her heart swelled with joy. That Elliot was allowing himself to actually feel some kind of emotion seemed like a giant step forward. It made her wonder what other steps he might be ready to take.
‘I think that’s a good idea,’ she said, trying to damp down the excitement that filled her. Just because he had come this far, it didn’t mean that he had undergone a complete change of heart. His feelings for his ex-wife must be extremely strong if he still loved her after what she had done. The thought sent a shaft of pain through her so that it was hard not to show how she felt when he looked at her.
‘I’m glad you agree.’ He suddenly smiled. ‘It’s good to know that I’ve done the right thing for once.’
‘Oh, you have!’ Polly exclaimed. Impulsively, she reached across the table and laid her hand on his. ‘Amy needs her husband with her at a time like this—they need each other if they’re to get through it.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ he said huskily. He turned his hand over and Polly’s heart lurched when she felt the warm strength of his fingers enclosing hers. Her eyes rose to his and her breath caught when she saw the urgency they held. ‘What you said the other day, Polly—’ He stopped abruptly when his pager beeped. Letting go of her hand, he checked the display. ‘Maternity. A problem with a baby whose heart rate is sky-high. I’ll have to go.’ He stood up then paused. ‘Joseph keeps asking if you’re still coming to tea on Saturday. What should I tell him?’
‘What do you want to tell him?’ Polly asked, holding her breath. She knew what she wanted to do but it was up to Elliot to decide if he wanted it as well.
‘That you’re coming.’
‘Then it’s all decided.’
‘So it is.’ He gave her a slow smile before he turned away.
Polly watched until he disappeared into the lift. Only then did she let out the breath she’d been holding. Excitement was fizzing through her veins as she picked up the tray and took it over to the rack. She had no idea what was going to happen after Saturday but for now it was enough to know that Elliot wanted her in his life, even if it was only for a few hours.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ELLIOT COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he had felt so nervous. As he put the finishing touches to the table, he thought back over all the major events in his life. His final exams had passed without a flicker of nerves showing, as had his rotations, despite the fact that the first consultant he had worked for had been a tartar. His wedding day had been more a trial than anything else but even then he hadn’t suffered from nerves. Joseph’s birth had been incredibly stressful, but once again he hadn’t felt nervous, merely determined to do his very best for his son. And yet here he was, all wound up, because Polly was coming for tea!
The doorbell rang and Elliot dropped the napkins he was holding on the floor. He stooped down to pick them up, hearing the sound of Joseph’s wheelchair whizzing along the hall as he went to let her in. Joseph was thrilled that Polly was coming that evening and it brought it home to Elliot all of a sudden just how careful he needed to be. He didn’t want Joseph becoming attached to her just yet.
‘Polly’s here,’ Joseph announced happily, leading the way into the kitchen.
Elliot felt the butterflies in his stomach multiply tenfold when he found Polly standing in front of him as he straightened up. He had only ever seen her wearing jeans or her uniform before but tonight she had chosen to wear a dress and he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her. His eyes skimmed over her, drinking in every detail, from how the deep amber colour complimented the richness of her red hair to the way the silky fabric clung to every delicious curve. She looked beautiful—so beautiful that she completely stole his breath. He could only stand there and stare at her like some mindless idiot.
‘I hope I’m not too early.’ She hesitated when Elliot didn’t say anything then hurried on. ‘I don’t think we actually set a time but if it’s awkward then I can come back later—’
‘No!’ The word exploded from his lips and he saw her jump. He dredged up a smile but he could feel himself cringing. Idiot was too kind a description for him. Moron would be more accurate! ‘Of course you aren’t too early. We’re just pleased that you could come, aren’t we, Joseph?’ he said, passing the baton to his son in the hope that Joseph would make a better job of welcoming her than he was doing.
‘Yes. It’s brilliant,’ Joseph declared enthusiastically. ‘You’ll be able to play a game with me while Dad finishes making the tea.’
‘That sounds like fun, so long as your dad doesn’t need any help.’
She looked at him and once again Elliot felt the words disappear down some long dark tunnel. Digging them out again was far too difficult so he simply shook his head. He felt relief wash over him when she gave him a quick smile then turned away. At least he had a breathing space now, time to get his act together. What was that expression Joseph used? Chillax—that was it. He needed to do exactly that, chill out and relax, or this evening was going to turn into a complete disaster.
* * *
Polly ate everything that was put in front of her, although she couldn’t have named a single thing she had eaten afterwards. She kept thinking about the way Elliot had looked at her when she had arrived. A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the expression in his eyes. He had looked at her the way a man looked at a woman he wanted, but was it true? Did he want her? And, if so, what was he going to do about it?
That question unleashed a maelstrom of feelings so that she found it difficult to follow the conversation. It was a relief when Elliot got up to make the coffee. Joseph asked if he could watch a DVD and headed to the television after he had helped to clear away his dishes. Polly collected up the glasses and took them to the sink. ‘Shall I wash these?’ she asked, glancing over to where Elliot was filling the coffee maker.
‘No, it’s fine. They can go in the dishwasher along with everything else.’ He opened the dishwasher and started to load the dirty dishes into it, rolling his eyes when she handed him the glasses. ‘Thank heavens for dishwashers. I don’t mind doing most jobs but I absolutely hate washing dishes.’
‘Some of us don’t have any choice,’ she replied tartly, and he laughed.
‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to touch a nerve, although you could always buy yourself a dishwasher if it would make life easier.’
‘I’d need somewhere to put it and at the moment I don’t even have that,’ she told him wryly.
‘Of course. What’s happening about the cottage? Is the landlord sorting it out?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ve spoken to the letting agents and they’ve been in touch with the owners but they’re being very evasive, apparently,’ she explained. ‘They won’t say when they’re going to start the repairs. They’ve also refused to let me move into one of the other cottages in the meantime, so I don’t know what’s going on.’
‘So where are you living at the moment?’ Elliot asked and she was warmed to hear genuine
concern in his voice.
‘I’m staying with Beth, although it’s a bit of a squeeze. She’s one of the doctors at The Larches,’ she added when he looked blank. ‘She’s on maternity leave at the moment, although she’s planning to return to work later in the year. Her cottage is only small though, so fitting in an extra person now she has baby Beatrix isn’t easy.’
‘I see. What about the baby’s father—is he not around?’ he asked curiously.
‘No.’ Polly sighed. ‘Beth and Callum split up before she discovered she was pregnant. She wrote and told Callum she was expecting his baby but he’s not made any attempt to contact her, so she can only assume that he doesn’t want anything to do with Beatrix.’
‘Some people don’t deserve to have children,’ he said harshly, slamming the dishwasher door.
Polly sighed as he went back to the coffee maker. It was obvious that he was thinking about what Joseph’s mother had done and it hurt to know that it still had such a huge effect on him. Would he ever get over it? she wondered sadly. Would he ever reach a point where he could let go of the past and concentrate on the future? She hoped so but, from what she had seen, it seemed unlikely. It was a depressing thought and she tried not to think about it as she found cups and saucers and loaded them onto a tray. Once the coffee was ready, Elliot put the carafe on the tray as well.
‘Shall we have this in the sitting room?’ He glanced over to where Joseph was engrossed in a film about dinosaurs, grimacing when a couple of the creatures started fighting. ‘It should be a bit quieter in there, not to mention a lot less gory!’
‘Surely you’re not put off by a drop of blood, Doctor?’ Polly taunted.
Elliot laughed as he picked up the tray. ‘A drop is fine. What I don’t fancy is watching buckets of the stuff swilling all over the place while I drink my coffee.’
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