The Marry-Me Wish

by Alison Roberts

  The turn-off to the cafeteria was not far from a back entrance to the emergency department, which suited David very well. He needed to collect his jacket and briefcase and indulge a long-ingrained habit of walking through the department after his shift finished to make sure that it was still running smoothly. That he hadn’t left anything undone that could have repercussions later on.

  The couple standing against the wall opposite the door that led through the orthopaedic department and into Emergency didn’t notice David going past because they were too wrapped up in each other.

  But David noticed them.

  The man was tall, dark and good looking and he wore the overalls that advertised he was part of an elite helicopter rescue team. The kind of paramedic that David had enormous respect for as an emergency consultant. Taller than the woman beside him, he was looking down at her. Or maybe he was looking at his hand which was resting on the bulge of her pregnant stomach. His fingers were splayed and his expression suggested that he was very comfortable doing this. That he was experiencing the kind of delight and wonder at what he was feeling beneath his hand that…a father would experience connecting with his unborn child.

  Anne was watching this stranger and she had a dreamy half-smile playing on her lips. They were both standing very still and all that mattered to either of them was the baby inside her.

  He only saw the tableau for a heartbeat. Or maybe it was two before he could wrench his gaze away, but there was no way of erasing it from his brain as David shoved the fire stop doors open and walked towards his office as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

  Jealousy gripped him, hot and bitter. They had looked so content. So happy.

  So much for all those impassioned conversations with Anne where she’d pleaded the importance of her career. The importance of a mother being more than part time. The fact that she worked with children and gave so much of herself to her patients that she would not have enough left for any of her own.

  Lies, all of it. But he’d believed her. Trusted her.

  At least the way forward was crystal clear now.

  He would put his house on the market. He had a couple of late shifts to get through but then he had the two days off and could start tidying up the property. Uninhabited for some time since his tenants had broken their lease and left, the garden was seriously overgrown and there were numerous maintenance jobs that needed doing urgently. He could organise a team of workmen and get everything sorted and then get it sold. He would give notice that he couldn’t complete this locum for personal reasons. He’d tie up every damned loose end he could think of and then he’d be out of here.

  And this time there would be no coming back.

  Oh…Lord! Had that been David?

  She only saw his back as the man pushed through the doors but, yes, Anne was sure it had been.

  He’d seen her, standing here with Mac. A chance meeting after Mac had delivered a patient to Emergency and was heading for a vending machine for a snack and Anne had been coming back from delivering an urgent test to Pathology. The babies must have sensed it was time for her to be heading home because while they were normally quite quiet while she was busy working, they had chosen that moment to have a wrestling match or something in her womb.

  Both Julia and Mac loved to feel their babies moving. It was a treat. A gift that Anne had been delighted to share. It was usually something kept very private but tonight the opportunity had presented itself like an apology for her outburst yesterday. Any resentment of the discomforts of this pregnancy had been transitory and Anne had been feeling terrible at leaving Mac and Julia worried.

  And, yes, in the back of her mind had been the thought she might duck into the emergency department and try talking to David so the chance to stand here for a few minutes and gather courage had been welcome.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  ‘I need to go,’ she told Mac. ‘There’s something I want to do before I head home.’

  ‘Sure thing.’ Mac took his hand off her stomach. ‘Thanks for that. I’ll be able to tell Jules we’ve got a couple of little rugby players in there. She’ll be sorry she missed it.’

  ‘I’ll see her tomorrow. We’re going shopping.’ Anne threw a smile over her shoulder as she moved towards the doors. ‘Have you any idea of how much your wife is spending at the baby shops?’

  Mac grinned. ‘Tell her to go for gold. Nothing but the best will do.’

  Anne’s smile vanished as the doors closed behind her. She went directly for the office area the consultants shared before she could lose the small amount of courage she had.

  But David was nowhere to be seen.

  She went into the department, trying to keep the urgency out of both the way she moved and spoke.

  ‘Is Dr Earnshaw around, by any chance?’ she asked the triage nurse.

  ‘He just left. Did you need him for something in particular?’

  ‘No… Um…’ Anne tried to stop herself looking towards the exit in case she saw him. If she was honest with herself, there was an element of relief in finding she had missed him. It would have been bad enough anyway but in the wake of him seeing her in what could only have appeared a compromising position with Mac it would have been much worse. ‘I was just going to update him on the little boy he treated yesterday. The one hit by the car.’

  ‘Oh…Keiran. How’s he doing?’

  ‘Really well. Could you pass that on, maybe, when Dr Earnshaw’s in tomorrow? Or…tell him to page me.’

  The nurse was nodding but clearly hadn’t noticed the way Anne clenched her fists at her final words and she couldn’t know how her heart was hammering at the thought of hearing David’s voice on the phone. She was distracted, in any case, by the arrival of a stretcher. Someone with a neck collar and padding in place that suggested a spinal injury.

  Anne left the department. It should feel like a reprieve but, instead, she could feel a new tension in the wake of realising how fast David must have left the building.

  Was he avoiding her?

  Quite probably, she decided the next day when several pager messages went unanswered.

  He was nowhere to be seen when she found an excuse to go into the emergency department on her way home the day after that either but Anne hesitated before making a query about when he was next rostered on.

  If she started asking questions, where would she stop?

  Would someone know why he was here at all? Or how long for? Where he was living?

  He’d leased out his house long term when he’d left so he couldn’t have gone back to the fabulous property he’d inherited from his mother. That huge old house in the exclusive, leafy suburb that Anne was as familiar with as she was with her own home.

  How weird would that feel, to come back to the city you’d lived in virtually your whole life but not be able to go home?

  It probably paled into insignificance compared to seeing the woman you’d loved, who’d sworn she never wanted children, looking ready to give birth at any moment.

  She was getting used to the startled looks people gave her belly—as though it was a miracle she could still function with such a massive bump. Anne’s smile was wry. Just as well they hadn’t decided to implant all the embryos and she wasn’t pregnant with triplets.

  It was becoming seriously difficult to fit behind the steering-wheel of her car now. Maybe she shouldn’t be driving any more? Imagine what could happen in even a minor collision? Fortunately it was only a short drive to her inner-city cottage and when she arrived safely she threw her car keys into a drawer and shut it firmly. From now on she was going to walk or take a taxi.

  She’d cut her hours at the hospital for the next few days too and then she was going to turn into the world’s biggest couch potato.

  And maybe…hopefully…she would be able to get her head around David’s reappearance in her life and decide what to do about it.

  She was overdoing things. No wonder she felt too emotionally fragile to
cope with talking to him.

  And no wonder her back was aching so much.

  Six hours later, just after midnight, her backache still hadn’t eased and that was when Anne felt the first contraction.

  She rang Julia and Mac immediately.

  ‘I just had a contraction,’ she said tersely. ‘Damn it! It’s way too early.’

  ‘You’re a little bit over thirty-six weeks,’ Julia said, clearly struggling to sound calm. ‘That’s not early for twins. You’ll be fine, Annie. Mac’s on a night shift. I’ll ring him and then I’m on my way. It’ll take me a good thirty minutes to get into town, though, so if the contractions speed up, you should get yourself to hospital. Don’t drive. Call a taxi.’

  ‘Ah…’ Anne could feel the grip of a new contraction starting already. She could also feel an ominous trickle of fluid down her legs.

  ‘Annie?’ Julia’s voice lost any pretence of calm. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I think…my waters just broke.’

  ‘Forget the taxi.’ She could hear Julia’s sharp intake of breath. Could almost hear her sister’s mind click into professional mode, so she wasn’t surprised at the authority in her voice when she spoke again. Crisply this time.

  ‘I’m going to call an ambulance for you. Hang in there, Annie. Help’s on its way.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  THIS was a first.

  In all his years as an emergency physician, David had faced just about everything. He had dealt with terrible trauma and heart-breaking tragedy. He had seen mistakes happen or grappled with the futility of attempting the impossible. He had even managed violent situations when his own life might have been at stake.

  But he couldn’t face this!

  This pregnant woman on the stretcher with the extra paramedic in the crew. One that was holding her hand to advertise their connection as she was wheeled through the doors of the emergency department. David bent his head over the notes he’d been reading, pretending to concentrate but aware of little more than the way his heart rate had accelerated.

  ‘This is Anne Bennett,’ he heard the crew leader tell the triage nurse. ‘Thirty-six-year-old primigravida. She’s thirty-six weeks pregnant with twins. Waters broke approximately fifteen minutes ago and contractions are now three to four minutes apart.’

  Twins?

  Good grief. An instant family. David couldn’t help looking up. The head of the triage nurse was turning now. Looking for him. David found his own head turning. Looking for someone else. Anyone else would do.

  Staff numbers were at a minimum, of course. After midnight on a weeknight, things didn’t generally get that busy. Three consultants were more than enough, with their registrars and the nursing staff. But one team was on a meal break and the other consultant was in the trauma room, dealing with a lacerated artery on a young man who’d put his fist through a window.

  Which left him. Or a registrar.

  ‘Any problems with the pregnancy so far?’ the nurse was asking.

  ‘No.’ It was the man who answered the question. ‘Everything’s been perfect.’

  David almost snorted. Perfect? Was that what Anne had told him? Perfect relationship. Perfect pregnancy. About to produce a perfect little family.

  Yes. A junior doctor could handle this. All that was needed was a quick check on the stage of labour, filling in all the admission paperwork and a transfer to the maternity department.

  Where was his registrar?

  ‘Dr Earnshaw?’

  David turned back, still trying to think of some way to escape this situation. He had to. He was too involved. It would be unethical to examine this woman and…and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to have to touch her. Or see parts of her body that had haunted his life for what seemed like for ever.

  But he had to turn back. He had to look at Anne and then he had to take a step closer because he’d never seen her look quite like this.

  Pale. Frightened.

  She tried to smile at him in a show of bravado but her knuckles were white where she held her companion’s hand and her eyes were huge. Fastened on his, and there was a plea there.

  She needed help.

  She was asking for his help.

  ‘Resus 1,’ he ordered, his voice firm enough to disguise an inward groan. ‘And page Obstetrics. Get them to bring an incubator down here as well, just in case. Actually, make that two.’

  Thirty-six weeks wasn’t that much of a worry in terms of prematurity for a single baby but these were twins who were likely to have lower birth weights anyway. Plus, he knew nothing about this pregnancy. He hadn’t even known it existed, dammit. Was it unreasonable to feel so hurt by that? He’d been starting over, for God’s sake. Struggling to let go of the past and start a new life. Surely it would have been courteous at the very least to inform him of something that might have allowed him to move forward with a semblance of enthusiasm?

  The flurry of activity that followed his instructions gave David a minute or two to collect himself. Anne was taken into the well-equipped resuscitation area and transferred onto the bed. Nurses helped peel off extra clothing and blankets. A blood-pressure cuff was wrapped around her arm. Someone was sent to find an Entonox cylinder.

  David donned a gown and gloves. Professional accessories that somehow helped him switch off the personal issues he had with this case. He could do this. He had to, because no matter how hurt and angry he was at the way he’d been treated, he cared about Anne. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t make sure she received the best assessment and treatment he was capable of providing. An IV line was a priority. So was some form of foetal monitoring. Checking the position of the babies and how far along her cervix was in dilatation.

  ‘Ohhhh!’ Anne’s groan cut through the air, ripping into David and threatening to undermine his resolve. ‘Oh, God… Mac…’

  ‘It’s okay, love.’ The big man with the tousled dark hair had his arm around her shoulders as Anne leaned forward in her sitting position, drawing her legs up so that she could hang onto her knees. ‘You’re doing great.’

  ‘Where’s the Entonox?’ David picked up the blue plastic kidney dish that contained everything he needed to start an IV line, doing his best to stamp on the flash of resentment he was feeling towards this Mac. The way he was holding Anne. The kind of anxiety on his face that every man would have if the woman he loved was in such pain.

  ‘Here.’ A nurse held the tubing attached to a large cylinder that had just been wheeled through the curtains. ‘I was on the phone to Obstetrics. The registrar is tied up with a forceps delivery. They’ve paged a consultant but it’ll be twenty minutes before they can get here.’

  It was looking more and more likely that Anne was going to have her babies here. Especially given the way she kept shifting position, looking restless and irritable, which could well indicate an advance into the second stage of labour. She pushed away a hand that was offering her the mouthpiece to the inhaled pain relief.

  ‘It’s nitrous oxide,’ David reminded her. ‘A fifty-fifty mix of—’

  ‘I know what Entonox is,’ Anne snapped. She dragged in a breath as her contraction eased.

  ‘I’m going to have a feel of your tummy while you’re between contractions,’ David warned her.

  ‘Fine.’ Anne closed her eyes.

  The nurse pulled up the nightshirt Anne was wearing. An oversized T-shirt that he didn’t recognise, but when had she ever worn clothing to bed when he’d been around?

  The feel of her skin was all too familiar but at least her abdomen had never felt remotely like this. Hard and firm and stretched to what seemed like breaking point. Full of lumpy shapes. An elbow there. A foot here. David remembered seeing Mac with his hands exactly where his own were now. Entranced by feeling all those tiny limbs moving. He wasn’t feeling any movement at the moment.

  ‘Have we got a Doppler here?’ he asked his registrar.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Maybe you could find it, then,’ D
avid heard himself snapping.

  He looked up to catch the way his junior colleague’s eyebrows rose. And no wonder. A flash of temper was disturbingly unlike the way he treated the people he worked with. David offered a quick smile. ‘I’d like to check on the foetal heart rates after contractions.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Anne had picked up on the exchange.

  ‘Not that I can pick up,’ David reassured her. ‘Have you had a scan recently?’

  ‘I’ve been getting them weekly. To check on the growth rate. It’s been within normal range and they’re pretty even in size.’

  ‘Do you know the presentation?’

  ‘Cephalic-cephalic.’

  ‘Good.’ The babies were both presenting head first. ‘As normal as it gets, then.’

  Anne groaned again. ‘Mac, where’s Jules? She’s supposed to be here.’

  Yes. Definitely irritable. The sooner he could check on her dilatation the better. David moved towards the end of the bed.

  ‘She’s on her way,’ Mac told Anne.

  ‘Oh…God…’ Anne flopped back onto her pillows. ‘I don’t believe this. I must have been mad to offer to have these babies for you. This hurts.’

  David stiffened at her words. She had ‘offered’ to have babies for this man? She made it sound as if she hadn’t actually wanted to. Ha! No surprises there.

  ‘Try the Entonox.’ His tone was cool. ‘The pain relief can be very effective. I need to check your cervix, if that’s all right.’

  Anne gave an incredulous huff. She didn’t want it to be him doing this any more than he did. ‘Just get on with it, David. I’d rather get this over with as soon as possible. If that’s all right.’

  It was fine by him. Even making allowances for how women could lash out at people they cared most about during labour, her sarcasm had hit home. This was intolerable. And about to get worse. As David lifted the sheet, Anne muttered something that made him pause.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I said, Jules was right. This is just as much your fault as Mac’s.’