A Child To Call Her Own

by Gill Sanderson

  She put him to bed, read him a story and sat with him until he fell asleep. Then she went down to the kitchen to make her own supper, and felt more lonely than she had ever done in her life.

  Tom had made up a bed for her in James's bedroom as before. She just couldn't settle. When finally she did manage to doze off it was a broken sleep that brought no respite at all. She sighed, sat up. Perhaps a warm milk drink might help her. Anything was better than this.

  She slipped out of the bedroom, dressed only in a flimsy nightdress and dressing-gown, and gasped as she nearly walked into Tom. They stood, face to face, almost, almost touching. All he was wearing—apparently—was a black silk dressing-gown. She remembered he had told her that he hated wearing anything in bed. And when they had slept together, both had been naked.

  'I thought I heard James calling,' he said. 'I was just coming to look.'

  She wondered if this was true or if he had come to look at her. But she said, 'Of course. I was going to get myself some milk.' He didn't move and neither did she.

  For perhaps a minute they stood there and she stared deep into those cerulean blue eyes. They were fixed on her with so much longing, and she knew that her own eyes betrayed the same message.

  'Would you like a drink?' she asked.

  'No, thank you. I've just had one. Goodnight, Maria.'

  Then they both moved on. The words they'd exchanged had been simple, ordinary. They had hidden what both of them were feeling. But it had been up to him to make the first move. And he hadn't.

  She didn't sleep much the rest of that night. She tried to be neither angry nor sad. She decided that she had been far too emotional over the past few weeks, now it was time to look at her life coldly and logically.

  First of all she remembered the job offer from John Kersh. She had loved living and working in Majorca and now she was at ease with herself over James's death, she felt she could return there. Her Spanish was as good as ever. She knew she could do the job. She could start a whole new life. Again.

  But what was wrong with this life? She loved the work, she had a future in it, she had friends to support her, she had everything she needed except... Now she had to face up to the brutal facts.

  She was in love with Tom. Absolutely, overwhelmingly, completely in love with him. But he didn't or couldn't or wouldn't love her.

  Well, she could stand it no more. More happiness now would only lead to more misery later. She'd tell him next week. She would be sorry to leave him but she was leaving the clinic and going back to the main hospital. She had that right. And then she would hand in her resignation. She would leave the hospital, too.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tracy McGee looked well. Her face had filled out a little, her hair shone, looked well brushed. She wasn't wearing quite so many metal studs and the ex-army overcoat had gone. She looked tired but content. And every five minutes she glanced down with pride at the little form in the pram by her side.

  'I've stopped doing drugs,' she told Maria. 'I've got this great little flat and I'm going to keep it a lot better than the last place. I'm starting a new life.'

  'It's going to be hard,' Maria said, 'but I bet you can do it.'

  Tracy nodded. 'Just watch me.' She pointed at the pram. 'I've got Oliver now. Responsibilities. And next summer I'm going to start a course at the local tech. A foundation course, they call it.'

  'You've got your life planned.' Maria hesitated a minute. 'But what about your boyfriend—Mr Lovett? Is he part of your new life?'

  Tracy looked a little sad. 'Andy? I've kicked him into touch. I want to change my life, he doesn't. Comes down to a choice between him and Oliver. So I picked Oliver.'

  'You're sorry to lose him?

  Tracy shrugged. 'I guess I am. I know he loved me in his own way and I suppose I loved him. But for me and Oliver to be all right he had to go. So I kicked him out and I won't have him back.'

  There was a toughness, a resolution in Tracy's voice that Maria could only admire.

  *

  It wasn't going to be an easy conversation. Still, she had made up her mind. Although she managed to smile and pretend that nothing had changed, she knew that things were no longer the same. There was a coldness in her, a grim determination to get out of a situation that could only end in more misery for her. And she thought of Tracy McGee. If she could turn her world around—leave the man she thought she loved— then so could Maria.

  She went to Tom's room late that afternoon. 'I'm afraid we need to talk,' she told him.

  He sighed, put down the forms he had been reading. 'I suppose we do,' he said, 'I've been expecting this all day.'

  This shocked her. 'You've been expecting it? Why?'

  His smile was sad. 'We've worked together for a while now, Maria. I can tell when something's on your mind. You frown more. And you don't answer straight away when someone speaks to you, you're obviously thinking about something else.'

  'I see.' She hadn't realised that she was so transparent—or that he was so observant.

  There was no way of making this conversation easy, she said what she had to say at once. 'I want to leave the clinic and go back to the hospital,' she said. 'I believe I have that right.'

  She could tell he was shaken. But he remained calm. 'We'd be very sorry to see you go,' he said. 'Can you tell me why? Can we talk things through? I thought you were happy here.' Then he frowned. 'You're not thinking of going to Majorca, are you?'

  Her patience snapped. Her determination to be cool, distant, perfectly reasonable—it all disappeared. 'No, it's not John's offer of a job,' she snapped, 'though I shall probably take it up and I'll enjoy it. It's because I'm not happy here.' Then she said it. 'Tom, I'm not happy with you. For me you're just too calm, too self-contained. There's a nice person hiding in you, but when it comes to feelings, you don't really give anything away. It's your way but it's not mine.'

  'But, Maria, I—'

  'It's too late,' she said.

  He felt empty as he went to bed that night. A life without Maria would be hard to face. And James would be desolate.

  It had not been all that easy. He was constantly aware of her, couldn't stop thinking of the twice they had made love. He loved the swell of her breasts, the curve of her lips, the colour of her hair. He loved everything about her. Sometimes the urge to just grab her, hold her, was more than he could bear. But he'd managed.

  But it was more than that. They just fitted so well together. Their ideas, the way they worked, sometimes their very words were the same. Maria was the other half of him.

  He thought back on their times together, not only the two wonderful times they had made love but also the sheer pleasure of just being with her. And then he remembered the one—in fact, the two times—he had hesitantly told her that he loved her. The morning after their first night together and days later on the promenade. Each time she had rejected him, and the pain had been so great that he had vowed never to risk it again. He was his own man. Love offered was always a risk.

  Of course, if she'd shown any sign that she really cared for him—loved him even—things would have been different. He'd take any risk then. But each time they'd been close she'd made it more than clear that she didn't want any further involvement.

  Perhaps he did appear to be a taker rather than a giver. But if she'd given him a chance he'd have given her all of him. But it was her right to choose. She didn't love him. Well, that was clear enough. He'd just have to manage without her. Still, it would be hard on him.

  Maria didn't want to leave the clinic. She had made friends there, she had developed her own way of working, she had her own responsibilities. Back at the hospital she'd be just one of a large number of midwives. Here she enjoyed being the only midwife.

  And she loved working with Tom. But that was the reason that she'd have to leave. She'd been strong so far. But she knew that strength would weaken. So she left quickly, quietly, saying goodbye to no one.

  'We can manage somehow,' Jenny told her wh
en she went for a talk. 'I've got another midwife who'll be pleased to take your place in the clinic, though she won't be as good as you. And I can always use you here.'

  'So it's all right, then?'

  'Not entirely.' Jenny tapped a letter on the desk in front of her. 'I've got your resignation from the hospital here. I want you to take it back.'

  Dully, Maria shook her head. 'It's no good, Jenny. I can't be happy here. I need to move on.'

  'I'll put the letter to one side, not act on it yet. Things might seem different in a couple of weeks.'

  'They'll seem worse. I'm managing now because I'm doing something, I'm taking control of my life, making decisions. But I know the decisions won't make me happy.'

  'I remember that feeling.' Jenny looked closely at her friend. 'Do you want to tell me what happened? I thought you were getting close to Tom again.'

  'I did have hopes but they came to nothing. He just can't care for me. Jenny, I could have made him so happy! But he's still carrying round this huge burden of fear.'

  'I thought he was coming out of that.'

  'He was!' Maria said, trying to stop the tears. 'He...he offered me a chance. He did once say that he thought that he was falling in love with me. I turned him down and that made him even harder than ever.

  He said that he'd never mention it again and he never has.'

  'Have you tried talking to him? Suggesting that you might have changed your mind?'

  'It has to come from him. He knows that I get on with James now, he knows that I've lost my fear of being with children. But he can't stand the idea of loving someone and then losing them. And now we're both feeling worse than before. And I hate abandoning that little boy. But...I couldn't stand it any longer, Jenny.'

  'Tom showed no sign of changing his mind when you said you'd leave?'

  'He didn't move an inch,' said Maria.

  For some reason she didn't write to John Kersh. She was too despondent. The job was there when she needed it, she'd write in a week or two.

  Fortunately, she had her work to keep her engrossed. She was much less her own boss in the hospital and she missed the more intimate atmosphere of the clinic. But she was still a midwife and she took joy in the babies she helped be born, the happiness of her patients.

  There was one phone call from Tom. 'Just to check up that you're all right,' he said. 'We're all missing you here. No way we can tempt you back?'

  What a question to ask! 'I'm surviving,' she said. 'Goodbye, Tom.'

  She'd volunteered to work the night shift. It was longer, it filled her time and she was always able to sleep during the day. And she didn't really want to mix with anyone. She was happiest when she was working.

  In fact, she had just finished a night shift and was soundly asleep when someone knocked on her door. It was a loud, a purposeful knock. Someone intended to come in, whether she wanted them to or not.

  She dragged herself awake, stared at the clock by her bed. Ten o'clock? She'd barely been asleep for two hours. And all the other girls knew she was working nights, they'd take special care not to disturb her.

  There was more knocking on the door.

  She staggered out of bed, put on her dressing-gown. It was Jenny at the door. And she looked upset. 'What...?' Maria mumbled.

  Jenny stepped forward, eased Maria back into the room so she sat on the bed.

  'I know you've just come off nights,' she said. 'But I've just been told something and I thought you'd want to know.'

  Maria blinked, wondering what was so important that it couldn't wait until she was awake. 'What?' she mumbled.

  Even in her sleepy state she could tell that Jenny was upset. And by the way Jenny was looking at her, she was worrying about upsetting her even more. Maria started to feel anxious.

  Jenny rested a hand on Maria's arm. 'James Ramsey was brought into A and E late last night. It was an RTA. Tom had parked his car, and got out to help James out of his car seat. A van was driving past, apparently a front tyre burst and the van skidded and crashed into the back of the car, where James was strapped in. And James was hurt.'

  Maria stared at her friend, trying desperately to comprehend the horror of what she had just heard. 'How badly hurt?' she managed to gasp at last.

  'Pretty badly. His chest was slashed by a spike of metal and he has a double fracture of the humerus. They're bad enough in such a young child, but they can be dealt with. The worst is the head injury, James had intracranial bleeding. In fact, he had something rather rare, he had an extradural haemorrhage.'

  'What does that mean for James?'

  'Fortunately, we had a surgeon available, and he operated at once. This is something that has to be treated quickly. He relieved the pressure on the brain, there's now good chance that James will...will survive.'

  It's happening again, Maria thought, another child that I...that I love might die. 'Where is James now?'

  'He's in the intensive care unit and Tom's with him. But he knows there's nothing he can do but wait and hope.'

  'I want to go to him. Jenny, can you find a replacement for my shift tonight?'

  'I've already done it,' said Jenny. 'Now I'll fetch you a coffee while you get dressed.'

  Maria glanced at the bank of instruments and dials that stood by the side of the bed holding the little form. She shuddered. James's condition was critical. She looked down at his still body—and then looked at Tom.

  He was wearing one of the suits that he usually wore to work, only the tie had been loosened. He was sitting staring at his son as if simple desperation could help James survive. Then he felt her presence and looked up at her.

  His voice was calm. 'Hello, Maria, what are you doing here?'

  Her first reaction was rage. How could he ask such a senseless question? But then she forced herself not to get angry. Apparent calmness was Tom's way of coping with the world. She knew him. She knew what he was feeling. Still, she was entitled to remind him that other people had feelings.

  'I'm here because I've come to love James. And I'm here to offer you any support that I can. How...how is he progressing?'

  She wondered what was worse, being a layman who knew little about the medicine or being someone who knew the meaning of every alteration in James's condition.

  'Look at the readings. He can't carry on like this, his body won't stand it. I think the next four or five hours will be critical. If he can get through those then he stands a chance of recovery. He's in the same situation as Tracy McGee. Or Jane. It could go either way.'

  She couldn't speak then, the sheer horror of it all swelled within her. And how could he speak so dispassionately? This was his son he was talking about. But, then, that was Tom's way.

  She bent to hug him, kissed his cheek. Perhaps a little human warmth might comfort him. His face was rough against hers. 'How long have you been here?' she asked.

  'All night. I drove him to A and E myself, even though the car was wrecked. I phoned ahead as I drove. It was all a bit...horrific.'

  At last, a touch of feeling!

  'I'll sit here now. Why don't you go and find somewhere where you can shave and shower, change into scrubs and get something to eat and drink? Have you had anything yet?'

  'I've had a couple of coffees. Sister brought me a sandwich but I couldn't eat it.'

  'Your blood sugar must be at rock bottom. Get something inside you. Tom, you're no good to James in this state! You need to be strong! You've got your bleep. If there's any change at all, I'll get straight onto you.'

  He looked at her, it was the first time she had seen his face closely. There were the obvious lines of fatigue round his eyes and mouth. He could keep his voice calm, but there was no way he could disguise the fear and desperation in his face.

  It took him a while to reply, as if he had difficulty in working out what she was saying. 'As ever, Midwife Wyatt is right. I'll do as you say. You have got my bleep number?'

  'Just go,' she said. 'I suppose it's no use suggesting that you try to sleep for
a couple of hours?'

  'No use at all,' he said.

  He was back in twenty minutes, and perhaps he did look a little better. Before speaking to Maria, he checked the readings again. No change. 'You were right,' he said, 'I don't feel better but I do feel stronger.' He looked down. 'You've fetched another chair,' he said.

  'I'm going to sit with you.'

  'It's good of you, but you don't really need to. I can cope now and...'

  It was hard to whisper and shout at the same time, but she managed it. 'Tom Ramsey, if I hear you talking about coping again, I think I'll hit you! One, I'm here because of James. Two, I'm here because I think that, just a little, me being here might help you. And I want to help you because...well, I just do.'

  She had intended to say 'because I love you'. But at the moment he had enough to deal with, without the expression of an unwanted love.

  They sat together. The needles on the dials twitched just a little. James stirred and moaned. This was a crisis. Perhaps the crisis.

  The sister came in, looked down at James and then a moment later the paediatric consultant entered. He looked at the monitors, thought for a moment then gripped Tom's shoulder. 'You know what's happening?' he asked gruffly.

  'We should know if he's going to live or die within the next hour or so,' Tom said.

  The consultant looked taken aback by this bald statement. 'Well, yes,' he said. 'I'll be on the ward next door if there's any...radical alteration.'

  Tom and Maria sat in silence. Perhaps the needles quivered again. She reached for his hand and grasped it, managed not to wince at the strength of his grip. And they watched. Looked at the little boy lying in the bed, looked at the dials.

  The needles quivered again. And slowly, so, so slowly they stared to creep back to normal. The sister came in, this time with a broad smile on her face. 'Looks like good news, doesn't it?' she said cheerfully. 'If we carry on with this progress. I'll just nip next door and tell the consultant, he'll be pleased.'