Alice had to giggle. ‘Sorry, it’s not really funny,’ she said. ‘But just a week ago Miss Prendergast was out walking her dog, tripped over the lead and fell and broke her leg. And I’d just signed on with the agency, offering them a year’s work anywhere. Anywhere as far from London as possible. And they offered me this position.’
‘Why was it important to be as far from London as possible?’
She wasn’t yet ready to explain it all to him. So she just shrugged. ‘I’d been there fifteen years. I needed a rest.’
She suspected that he didn’t entirely believe her. He had always been astute, always able to guess at her feelings. Still, it was a reasonable story.
‘So it was a complete coincidence that you came back to Soalay?’
‘Yes, it was a complete coincidence. And I didn’t know you’d be here until I’d signed the contract.’ She knew that he’d believe that. After all it was entirely true. ‘But I did wonder…can you ever come back to a place when you’ve left it apparently for good?’
‘So have you happy memories of here or not?’
Suddenly they were on dangerous ground. This was a question that could lead to trouble, lead to things being aired that they had both carefully tried to disregard. The peaceful atmosphere that had been in the room suddenly seemed charged with electricity.
She looked across at him, apparently at ease in his seat. He looked as casual as ever but she sensed that a lot would depend on her answer. But she had always tried to be direct. She had to be the same now.
‘Most of my memories are to do with you,’ she said. ‘And they are…happy memories.’
‘We were very close. And I…’
Then she sensed that he felt that he had to back away from anything that might be seen as a statement. An endorsement of the feelings that she knew he had then.
‘But we were children,’ he went on. ‘We didn’t know what we were doing, what feelings were, we didn’t know how the world worked. We had to get away into the wide world.’
‘It did us both good?’ she suggested. ‘It was something that we had to do?’
‘Perhaps.’
Then he said something that astonished her. ‘I felt that I talked you into going to London—into our parting. I did think it would be good for you. But I always hoped you’d change your mind. I wanted you to come to Edinburgh with me, as we’d agreed. But once you had decided, that was it. I had to respect that.’
It was a shock. She had never known he’d felt that way! She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know what she wanted to say. After a while she muttered, ‘I enjoyed the London course, I felt I learned a lot. Things could have been different but I…’
Her voice trailed away. What was the use of talking? She said, ‘I think I’m tired, I’ll go to bed now.’
His voice was soft. ‘Goodnight Alice. You know you don’t have to stay with Fiona, don’t you? I feel I’m putting on you.’
‘I want to stay with her.’
Perhaps she was more tired than she’d thought or perhaps because he had just shocked her by telling her how he had wanted her to stay with him. Was it a good time to share confidences? She just didn’t know. She had walked as far as the door before she made up her mind. Then she turned, walked back and sat down again.
‘I want to tell you one thing, just tell one simple thing. I don’t want any long explanation or discussion. I just want you to listen. Like a doctor and a patient. But I don’t want any medicine or suggested cure. I just want to tell you facts.’
‘I can listen.’ He was obviously intrigued.
‘About six months ago I had a miscarriage at twenty weeks. Just old enough to kick me, to let me know that he or she was there. It was a wanted baby—well, I wanted it. In my time I’ve counselled lots of women about this. Telling them that things like this just happen. One out of every five conceptions results in a miscarriage. Often it’s nature’s way of telling you that this birth is not a good idea. I used to come out with all these platitudes and I believed in them. But when it happened to me I realised that I didn’t know what I was talking about. It hurts and it makes you afraid. So can you now understand why I want to stay with Fiona. She’s a lovely little girl.’
‘I hope she can help you,’ Ben said. ‘And, Alice, I’m so sorry for you.’
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS only her flat that wasn’t complete. Her birthing unit was ready for use and after Ben had stepped in she was insured to practise. She was also insured to drive her Land Rover. When she was dropped off the next day she found more parcels had arrived, including a set of uniforms.
She spent the morning checking her stock, familiarising herself with everything, putting things in their proper place. Whoever had done the ordering had done a good job. She wondered if it was the broken-legged Miss Prendergast—or could it have been Ben? For some reason she thought that more likely. When she had finished her morning’s work she went to see Morag, who had been doubling up as district nurse and midwife. She asked to see if there were any current files, any work that she could take over.
Morag handed her three files. ‘These three mothers-to-be live far out of town and for various reasons they find it hard to get in for a check-up. It wouldn’t be a bad idea if two had mid term visits and one is further advanced than that—she should have phoned in for an appointment but she hasn’t. I just haven’t had a chance to get out to see any of them. If you fancy driving round in your new vehicle, it’d be a good idea to pay them all a visit.’
‘Great,’ said Alice. She checked her midwife’s bag, worked out a route from the map and gingerly set off. The three visits were at the far end of the island but reasonably close together.
Driving the Land Rover was very different from driving the little car she had sold before she’d left London. It seemed vast. It seemed high. But she knew that she would soon come to love it. And there was so little traffic. She was more likely to see tractors than lumbering red buses. She was loving this. She could smell real air instead of traffic fumes and the views were stupendous.
As she drove along the narrow country lanes she felt like a real midwife. A feeling she’d not had for a while. After the chaos and misery of the past few weeks this was a real treat. She had given in her notice after the hearing and reprimand but had managed to leave at once because she was owed some holiday time.
But now she was happy. She used to cycle round here with Ben then told herself to forget that. She had to live in the present, not the past. One other thing was nice—a lot of the people in the rare passing traffic waved at her. Well, she was obviously a nurse or something medical. The blue and white paintwork suggested that, as well as the name on the side. She was enjoying herself.
Cara Garrett lived in a tiny croft in the even tinier hamlet of Lonkille. This was the flatter edge of the island and Alice had to skirt a long stretch of boggy land before she reached Lonkille. It was just a handful of grey cottages scattered around a bay at the far north of the island. The road to get there was wild and lonely but it was another lovely day and the drive was beautiful.
Alice stopped before she got to the cottage and reread Cara’s notes. Cara already had a son, two-year-old Hamish, and she was now twenty-six weeks pregnant. The twenty-week assessment had been fine. Pencilled notes said that the husband was a fisherman often away for long periods but that the neighbours were reliable and could be called on. These weren’t official notes. Pencil was easy to erase.
It was a good visit. Cara made tea and then wanted to chat about how Alice had once been an islander. Hamish was playing in the garden, Alice had a look at him and found him to be a bright toddler. No problems whatsoever with this family. Alice talked a while about where Cara was to have the baby and found that she wanted to come to the birthing unit. That was good. Well, it was safer and it made for less work.
The second visit was just as straightforward. The mother-to-be really wanted to deliver in the clinic. No problems here either. A chat and they part
ed friends.
Alice was beginning to think that all her work on the island would be straightforward. She should have known better. The third visit was not so good.
Her suspicions started when she saw that the whitewashed cottage had a great garish rainbow painted on one side. It didn’t look well against the cool greens and greys of the landscape. To one side of the cottage was a rickety-looking windmill. There was a reasonable breeze blowing, but the sails weren’t turning. Alice started to wonder.
When she got closer she saw that there had been an unsuccessful attempt at making a kitchen garden. The vegetables planted just weren’t right for this soil and this climate. There were dogs playing outside and she saw thin goats in a paddock at the back.
Alice sighed. There had been quite a few incomers to the island when she had been at school. If they didn’t already know, most of them quickly found out what living on a northern island was like. Often they had to change their preconceived ideas. And the successful ones stayed because they loved the place and they were made welcome. They learned to adapt to the climate, to the occasional harshness of the life. But those who had their own ideas about living the simple life, who refused to recognise how hard things could be, well, usually they didn’t last long. Still, it wasn’t her place to judge and she hoped this family would be happy.
She was here to look at thirty-two week pregnant Debbie Laws, to ensure that Debbie had good prospects for a safe birth and that her baby had the best possible start in life.
Debbie looked washed-out, white-faced. Her hair needed both cutting and combing. She was wearing a long, semi-peasant-type dress and that didn’t appear too clean. Her breasts looked full but she wore no bra. Must be uncomfortable, Alice thought.
Debbie didn’t have much to say but seemed pleased to see Alice. She sat her at the table, made them both the obligatory cup of tea. Herbal tea, Alice found. It was…different. When she heard Debbie’s accent, Alice had to smile. Debbie had spent most of her life in London.
‘I’m glad you’ve come,’ Debbie said. ‘We don’t get too many visitors.’
‘Well, I’ve just been appointed midwife and children’s nurse here and I’m trying to look at all the—’
‘A midwife! Great, just what we need. Midwife, whatever your name is, I’m pleased to see you. Debbie’s been a bit worried even though I’ve told her that there’s nothing to worry about. So I need you to tell her I’m right. Let me introduce myself—I’m Freddie Laws.’
The door had banged open and there was a great bearded smiling man. He strode over to Debbie, put his arm round her smiled and kissed her in an obviously loving way. ‘And this will be our first baby together. We hope to have more!’
‘My name is Alice Muir,’ Alice said. ‘I’ll be the midwife in charge.’ Normally she wouldn’t dream of using the words, ‘in charge’. But she felt that it was necessary to establish a little authority. Debbie was a long way from her help and Freddie was a touch too confident.
Freddie’s next words confirmed her suspicions. ‘Giving birth is a natural process, not a medical emergency. Our child will be born at home. I’m not sure that we really need a midwife.’
‘Giving birth at home is fine if you don’t have an emergency,’ Alice said. ‘How many births have you supervised, Mr Laws?’
‘None really. But men have been helping their wives give birth for thousands of years. Of course, I’ll appreciate your advice.’
‘We’ve just had a new birthing unit installed at the clinic in Soalay,’ Alice said. ‘I’d like Debbie at least to look around it and—’
‘She’s having our baby at home,’ Freddie said.
Alice decided that this was not the time to get into an argument. ‘I’d like to have a look at you now,’ she said, turning specifically to Debbie. ‘According to the notes, at your last visit you seemed to be just a touch anaemic.’
‘Anaemic? Rubbish! She was just a bit—’
Alice was wondering just what she’d have to say to make Freddie pay attention to her when they were interrupted by the loud ringing of a telephone. Freddie groped in his pocket, took out a mobile phone. ‘Perry old friend, it’s good to hear from you. And I’ll bet I know what you want.’
Alice blinked. Freddie’s voice had changed. Now he sounded like the complete city gent. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone, muttered, ‘Excuse me, work calls,’ and walked rapidly into another room, shutting the door behind him.
‘That’s always happening,’ Debbie said.
‘He works from here?’
‘He’s an accountant with a big firm in London, they email all his work up here. We used to live in Islington but Freddie said he wanted to get back to nature.’
‘Right,’ said Alice, ‘I hope Freddie and nature are getting on fine. Now, is there a bedroom where I can have a look at you?’
Debbie’s pregnancy was progressing quite satisfactorily. The previous midwife had prescribed iron tablets to try and deal with the slight anaemia—with the warning that drinking too much milk and taking iron tablets might bring on vomiting. Take vitamin C to aid the absorption of iron. Eat chocolate and as many green leafy vegetables as were available. Especially broccoli. The suggestions appeared to have worked well as there was now no sign of anaemia. Alice was satisfied—more or less. But there was another problem.
‘I see you suffer from asthma,’ she said to Debbie.
‘I do. But I’ve been a lot better since I got here—ask Freddie. I think I’m cured.’
Asthma cured? Alice thought, but said nothing. ‘Usually, if we have a patient with asthma, we like her to have her baby in hospital—in your case in my birthing centre. I’m very much in favour of home births and so far you seem to be doing very well. But there’s always that tiniest chance—’
‘But Freddie says—’
‘Freddie is neither a doctor nor a midwife. But we’ll see how things go over the next couple of weeks.’ She wasn’t tremendously happy about the prospect of Debbie having a baby at home—but decided not to say anything more on this visit. ‘You’re doing fine for now,’ she said, ‘but I’ll be along to see you in a week or so. And don’t forget! Any problems—ring me.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said Debbie. ‘Will you have another cup of tea before you go?’ Alice winced but accepted.
They were drinking their tea when the door was pushed open and a young boy entered. Alice thought he looked pale, undernourished. He couldn’t have been older than seven. ‘This is Albert,’ Debbie said. ‘Say hello, Albert.’
‘Hello,’ Albert said listlessly. He came over to Alice and she held out her hand to him. Sometimes it was good to treat children as if they were adults. Albert reached for Alice’s outstretched hand but missed it. ‘I’m tired now,’ he said after Alice had managed to grab his hand and shake it. He walked through the living room, slowly climbed the stairs against the far wall of the cottage and a moment later there was the slam of a door closing.
‘He gets tired very easily,’ Debbie said. ‘He was all right when we came here but recently he’s getting more and more tired. Spends a lot of time just lying on his bed.’
Alice frowned. ‘I thought this was your first child?’
‘Oh, it is, Albert is Freddie’s child. There was this messy divorce—and I suppose I was a bit to blame. But Albert is with us now and we both love him.’
‘You say he’s been getting tired easily. I’d like the doctor to—’
‘Albert is fine,’ a voice boomed from behind her. ‘There’s nothing wrong with him that this fresh Scottish air won’t cure. Midwife Muir, thanks for your concern but people rely too much on so-called medical science. There is no problem with Albert and I’ll not have him hauled before a doctor. The great majority of people who go to see their GP need nothing more than rest. Albert is just needing time to fit into his new home.’
Freddie had come out of his study. And looking at his angry face Alice realised that he intended to have his own way. Unfortunately for him, she
intended to have her own way—but she realised this wasn’t the time to start a fight.
‘Of course there’s no problem,’ she agreed. She knew that to win this fight she had to have reinforcements.
She’d enjoyed her visits but now there was paperwork to do. She spent the rest of the afternoon filling in forms, reviewing all the cases that she had been left, in general trying to get her new little empire ready so that she could concentrate most on the work that mattered—her patients. So far things had been quiet.
She left a message for Ben that she had finished all that she could usefully do for the day and would drive herself home. This was an evening when he had to work late. She had only been with Ben for two days—and yet she was thinking of his house as home. She would have to be careful. She and Ben were colleagues and friends—nothing more.
For a while she chatted to Mrs McCann and then she took Fiona out onto the lawn and they played with a big red ball. Fiona loved it, laughed whenever Alice missed a catch. Alice wondered how often Fiona managed to play with other children and decided to take it up with Ben. Was there a nursery school in Soalay—or even just a playgroup? If there wasn’t a playgroup, could it be considered part of her job to organise one? She’d have to think about that.
Fiona had her evening meal and then, to give Mrs McCann a rest, Alice bathed her and then read her the bedtime story. A quick kiss on the forehead and soon Fiona was asleep. Alice checked the baby alarm and then went downstairs to wait for Ben.
She was definitely liking her new life, she decided.She liked being with Fiona. She was staying in a beautiful house, she would shortly have an excellent meal with Ben. And then they would spend a pleasant, uncomplicated evening together. Yes, she was looking forward to being with Ben for a couple of hours. It was as if… She had to stop herself. She was living too much with the memories of the past. Now was now; things were different and she should have learned her lesson. What was thought of as permanent too often was not. You may think you were in love but there was no certainty to it. It was a bitter lesson but she had learned it well. This situation was great—but it could only last a few days.
The Midwife And The Single Dad Page 5