A Child To Call Her Own

by Gill Sanderson

  He had been ready to take a chance, to offer her...he didn't know exactly what, but to him it had represented a risk. He had even used that word 'love'. And it was not a word he used idly. He had thought she had responded to him. In fact, he knew she had responded to him. No one could have faked what they had enjoyed together in his bed.

  But then she had rejected him. And it had hurt. He was not going to risk hurt again.

  And what had happened now? She had told him that they could not have a relationship because she was unable to cope with a small boy in her life. He had thought he had understood it. He had tried to help her out of it, acting just as a friend. He seemed to have succeeded too well.

  Or had he?

  Perhaps the fear of children had just been an excuse. Perhaps she had no real feelings for him.

  He sighed. Perhaps things had been better before, when he had been more or less content with what he had. Maria had been a sudden magic possibility, a chance at happiness he had thought gone for good. But it was not to be. She was just a colleague.

  The next week was hard for Maria. Tom seemed to get more reserved every time she saw him. If anything, he was more formal than when they had first met. His manner was professional and proper, there were none of the little jokes that they had once shared. Once she had thought there was the possibility of a relationship with him. That possibility had disappeared. Perhaps he just wasn't ready. Well, that was too bad.

  And what made it worse was that she was getting more and more fond of James. He was allowed to come to her room at lunchtime. Tom came in once when they were sticking a picture up on her wall and had told James that he must be careful not to interfere with Maria's work or bother her too much. James had been crestfallen and Maria had said that she was always pleased to see him. She didn't know what to make of Tom's unyielding face.

  Then one morning, before she could start her clinics, Tom asked her into his room for a quick conference.

  His voice was professional, even brusque. Well, if that was the way he wanted to treat her, Maria would go along with it. 'I think we've got a problem,' he said. 'Tracy McGee.'

  Maria sighed. 'I'd hoped things were going well there.'

  'They were. But I've just had word from hospital— they've suddenly got worse. After a bit of initial trouble, Tracy settled in quite well. She got on with a couple of the nurses and was making progress. She'd even had a short talk with the drug liaison officer. Then after a while her partner turned up, created havoc on the ward and persuaded her to sign herself out.'

  'She must be mad! I'll go round and see her.'

  Tom shook his head. 'Perhaps not a good idea. The spotting had stopped. One of the nurses there thought that at last Tracy had got some idea of how to look after herself. At the moment she and her baby are probably in no immediate danger. I suspect that a call from anyone in authority would make things worse. What do you think?'

  Maria's first inclination was to march straight round to Tracy's flat and demand to see her. But then... would that do Tracy and the baby any good? As Tom had suggested, it probably would make things worse.

  'I suppose you're right,' she said. 'We'll just have to hope, that Tracy shows some common sense.'

  'True. But isn't it the hardest thing in the world to do nothing? I'm not good at it at all. But I know that it's sometimes necessary.' She could tell that he was looking at her assessingly, wondering what to say next.

  'We're not talking about Tracy now, are we?' she asked. 'We're talking about you and me.' She managed to smile, if weakly. 'Tom, we got things right. You've made me happier by showing me that I could get on with little children. Well, with James, anyway.'

  'Ah. Happier but not yet happy. Have you had the nightmare again?'

  'Not really. I had a dream the other day that was a bit upsetting, but nothing like how it used to be. Tom, is there something else you want to talk to me about?'

  He looked uneasy, 'Well, yes. I'm due to take a week off in a week's time. My mother, James and I were going to fly out to the Med for a winter break. But I've got a sister in Australia called Amy. She's just had her first baby, a bit premature but everything is apparently going well. And my mother wants to go at once to see her. She'll miss her holiday with us.'

  'Seeing her daughter, a new grandchild and a trip to Australia should make up for it,' Maria pointed out, unable to stop herself grinning.

  'Quite so. I'm pleased she's going, she doesn't spend enough time just enjoying herself.'

  Maria was puzzled. She was interested, but how did it affect her? Then Tom said, 'There's a room booked for her at our hotel. I wondered if you'd like to come in her place. With James and me.'

  'What?' This was the last thing Maria had expected.

  'Before we go any further, let me say that the holiday is in Majorca. That might hurt. But you told me you hadn't been on holiday for four years. I think you need one, even deserve one. And I thought that you might like to go with us.'

  'Go with you and James to Majorca!'

  'Well, why not?'

  Maria tried to make sense of her reeling thoughts. 'I'm not sure how I'd feel when I got back there. That's where my little boy died. How could you ask me to go back there?'

  'Maybe you'd feel better when you'd visited the island.' He thought for a moment and went on, 'Once, when I was a medical student, and young and a bit foolish, I went on a rock-climbing course. I enjoyed it and I got to be quite good at it. I got too confident and I fell. Not far. I slithered about twenty feet down a rockface. But it shocked me.'

  'I'm not surprised,' Maria said. She wondered why he was telling her this.

  'The instructor came over, checked me to see if there were any serious injuries. There weren't. So he told me to get straight back up the climb I'd fallen from. And I didn't want to. He told me it would be hard, but tomorrow it would be harder, and in a week it would almost be impossible. I was shaking and I was afraid, but I did the climb. And I wasn't scared any more.'

  'The lesson being that you face your fears and they disappear. But there's a difference between my child's death and a non-serious accident.'

  'I know. But the principle is the same. Are you going to come with us, Maria?'

  She thought. Perhaps it might be a good idea. But she said, 'There is another reason for not going,' she said. 'I get on very well with James now. How do I get on with you?'

  'We came to an agreement,' he said quietly. 'It's hard but I think it's working. I think visiting the island would be good for you. And I think the three of us would have a good time together.'

  She sat there, bewildered. And then she thought that this aggravating man had caused her plenty of grief— but had also brought her some pleasure. 'All right, I'll come with you,' she said. 'But I insist on paying...'

  He held up his hand. 'Maria, you'll make me angry! The room and flight are already paid for, the money can't be returned. And I do not try to make a profit out of my friends.'

  'All right,' she said. 'But there must be something that I can do for you in return.'

  'I'll think of something,' he said.

  The rest of the morning was taken up with one of her post-natal clinics. Mums brought in their new babies for the last time twenty-eight days after they had given birth. Then care was handed over to the district health visitor. Seeing the babies for the last time was work that Maria loved and she always tried to allocate more time than was strictly allowed.

  Miriam Allardyce brought in her baby Michael, the third baby Maria had seen that morning. She ran through the usual checks on mother and child. Mostly it was a matter of asking questions, making sure that the mother felt confident. Physically both appeared to be doing well. But then there was the usual five-minute chat, and Maria asked Miriam how she was sleeping.

  'I'm not,' said Miriam. 'Michael's not a bad baby, he will go to sleep, but once I'm awake I just can't drop off again.'

  Maria looked at the weary face, the lines round the eyes. 'Can't your husband help?' she asked
.

  'Barry does everything I ask him to, he's a wonderful man. But I just can't sleep! I've always been like this, it's always been hard for me to sleep. But now it's worse.'

  'You're breast-feeding, you can't have any kind of sleeping pills. Not that I like them anyway.'

  Maria pondered. 'This isn't an unusual problem,' she went on. 'All new mothers have difficulty sleeping. And some babies are much easier than others. Just for one night a week ask your husband to look after the baby, and you find a bed to yourself where you can't hear a thing. Get him to massage you—he'll probably enjoy it. If you buy some soothing oil it's lovely for relaxation. And have quiet music on at the same time. And then you can try this.'

  She fumbled in a drawer, took out a CD. Miriam looked at it, surprised. 'What's that?'

  'It's a relaxation CD, a sort of hypnotic combination of music and words. It's worked for several mums I know.'

  'Then I'll try it,' Miriam said hopefully.

  The rest of the clinic passed quite rapidly. Maria was busy doing something she enjoyed so she wasn't able to worry about agreeing to go away with Tom. But when all her patients had gone, and she had a little time to herself, she thought about the trip. Revisiting the place where her son had first fallen ill and had eventually died might be hard. But she had listened to Tom's climbing story and could see how a visit might help her. But how would she get on with Tom?

  The next day was Friday, and as she had worked late for most of the week she told Tom that she would be leaving early. It was still light when she walked into the clinic car park. She met Tom there. Obviously he had been waiting for her. He was carrying a sheaf of flowers—a beautiful bouquet in shades of mauve and blue and white.

  'Have a good conference,' she told him. 'And we meet as arranged a week today. Are the flowers for your mother? They're lovely.'

  He smiled, shook his head. 'They're not for my mother, they're for Jane. These were her favourite colours. I'm going to throw the flowers in the sea, where I scattered her ashes. She loved the sea.'

  His next words shocked her. 'I waited here to ask you. Would you like to come with me, Maria?'

  'Yes,' she said, after a pause, 'very much so. If you want me to come.'

  'I do want you to come.'

  He drove out of the city and then turned down a narrow road that led through pine trees. They parked to the side of a bank of sand dunes, climbed over and saw the beach below them and then the great grey expanse of sea.

  He chuckled. 'I checked the tide tables,' he said. 'This is high tide. At low tide we might have had to walk for a mile to get to the sea.'

  'You can joke. I would have thought this was a sad occasion.'

  'I want to look forward, not back. Come on. It'll get dark soon and we don't want to be marooned here.'

  He took her hand and helped her slide down the side of the sand dune. And when they got to the level surface of the beach, he didn't let go. They walked hand in hand towards the sea.

  They reached the edge of the water, their shoes sticking in the wet sand. He let go her hand, took the flowers from their Cellophane wrapper and threw them one by one into the sea. Maria watched them roll in the tiny waves, some landing on the sand, others sucked into the sea.

  Then she looked at Tom's face. She would have expected him to be upset—angry even. But instead he appeared serene.

  He threw the last flower, stuffed the packaging into his pocket. Then he took her hand again and silently gazed at the sea.

  She felt she had to say something. 'Tom, I don't understand you,' she said. 'You came here to...to...I think celebrate the life you once led. You throw in the flowers, which is a lovely thing to do. And then instantly you take hold of my hand. We're man and woman Tom, that has sexual and emotional overtones. The two ideas just don't...don't fit in together.'

  '' 'Celebrate life'' is a good way of putting it,' he said. 'That's what I wanted to do. Not mourn any more. I think that period of my life is over. And if you don't understand me...well, I'm not sure I understand my motives myself. But I wanted you to come with me and I wanted to hold your hand.'

  There was too much to think about, she just couldn't cope with it right now. 'That's nice,' she said. 'But it's getting dark, we'd better get back.'

  It was a friendly silence between them as they walked back across the beach, up over the sand dunes. She wondered how things had changed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jenny was the only person she told that she was going to Majorca with Tom and James. 'How do you feel about it?' Jenny asked her.

  'A bit apprehensive, I suppose. I'm still not sure why he wants me to go or why I'm going. And the place will bring back memories.'

  'You'll be fine with the memories. But I think there's something else going on. He might not realise it but this trip is as much for Tom's sake as it is for yours.'

  'What? He's just being kind to me.'

  'He's trying to help himself as well, and he just doesn't know how. He wants to get out into the world again.'

  'Perhaps,' Maria said thoughtfully. 'So where does that leave me?'

  'Just what are your feelings for him? Are you in love with him?'

  It was a question Maria had never dared to ask herself. But now Jenny had asked her and she had to produce some sort of an answer.

  'He's a good doctor, I like working with him. He's a kind man, he's thoughtful, he's gentle. He's helped me an awful lot and—'

  'He's also exceedingly good-looking,' Jenny put in with a grin. 'I could fancy him myself if I didn't have Mike. Maria, give me an answer. Are you in love with him?'

  'I think I could be. But I'm frightened. And I told him that...that there could never be anything between us.'

  'Not a good idea. But it's your right, you could always change your mind. What are you going to do?'

  'I don't know. For a while we seemed close, but now he seems to keep me at a distance. Perhaps he is just not ready for any kind of relationship.'

  'He's ready,' Jenny said, 'whether he realises it or not.' She leaned forward, kissed Maria gently on the cheek. 'Good luck.'

  It seemed a part of her past life that she fell straight back into without any doubts whatsoever. There was an airport, an excited, chattering little boy. The wait before boarding could have been irritating, but together they found things to do, things to look at. For her it was easy.

  'I'm seeing a new side to you, Maria,' Tom said. 'I know you're a brilliant midwife, but you'd have been an equally good children's nurse.'

  'I did years of this kind of thing and I always enjoyed it. Until...'

  'You're enjoying it now. Just keep on doing it.'

  So she did. It was strange, she hadn't realised just how many memories she had suppressed. As she walked around the airport with James, she remembered past times when she had set off to begin a new job. She remembered the anticipation, the excitement. The great majority of her memories had been happy- she had just shut them down. Well, now was the time to change.

  Time to board. She was almost as excited as James. She hadn't been abroad, hadn't been in a plane even, for more than four years. Her heart thumped as she took her seat.

  Perhaps Tom guessed at her mood. 'You're not nervous?' he asked her. 'An experienced flyer like you?'

  'Sort of nervous. But I'm going to enjoy the flight.'

  The plane was towed out, took its place on the runway, there was the scream of accelerating engines. Too late to change her mind now. She was on her way—to what, she wasn't quite certain.

  She had put James in the window seat and as the plane banked over Palma airport in Majorca, she leaned over and pointed things out to him. 'That's Palma, the capital city. And look at all those little windmills! They help pump water from underground streams.' James was fascinated. But as they made the approach to landing she had to lean back in her seat.

  Tom looked at her thoughtfully. 'Memories?' he asked.

  'Things are coming back to me. You know this is the first time I've been out
of England in the past four years?'

  'I guessed. But a lot of your memories are good, aren't they? You were happy here?'

  'Yes,' she said, as if the thought was a curious one. 'Yes, I was happy here. And I was good at my job.'

  He patted her hand. 'Just don't think of applying for it again. I need you, you're the best midwife in the hospital.'

  Was that all? she wondered.

  There was the bump and squeal as the aircraft wheels touched down and then the roar of the braking engines. They had landed in Majorca. The place she had left, never expecting to return.

  Of course, it was winter. The buildings were familiar but the climate was not. And the airport was strangely quiet. There were none of the thronging crowds, none of the shouting, over-excited children. Mostly the tourists appeared to be pensioners, taking advantage of the cheap rates for a month of comparative warmth.

  Baggage retrieval was quick and they walked out to find the bus that would transport them to the hotel. And there, on the other side of the park, was the red and grey coach that belonged to the Hotel Helena where she had lived. Maria gulped. And when they were travelling in their own hotel's coach, the smiling hostess stood in a similar uniform to the one Maria had worn so many times and gave a similar speech of welcome.

  'Is this unsettling?' Tom asked.

  'Very. I'm finding it hard to realise that I've been away for over four years. I feel a different person.'

  'It'll all be fine,' he said.

  * * *

  Maria hadn't realised how tired she really was. For four years she had not had a proper holiday, not one where she was cosseted, looked after, had everything done for her. At first it took some getting used to. But then Majorca worked its usual magic.

  Tom had booked a good hotel, on the north coast about five miles from where she had once lived. Her room was luxurious and had a sea view. The food and service were both excellent, though there weren't too many guests there. She was very comfortable.