No answer.
I rose onto my knees, but the birth pain gripped me in its merciless fist so I was forced to drop back down to all fours. The agonised scream I heard was mine.
When it ebbed, I forced myself to my feet, scanning the road for William. He lay perhaps ten feet in front of me and the robber crab that we'd collided with. I made it to his side before I had to drop to my hands and knees for another shrieking contraction.
"William," I rasped, reaching for his face.
His ocean-blue eyes stared up at a sky he couldn't see, his head bent at an angle no live body could manage. No breath passed through his lips as I leaned over for what I knew was our final kiss. A kiss William could no longer feel. I pressed one muddy hand to his throat and the other to his breast, feeling for a pulse I knew I wouldn't find, though I wished I was wrong. The beat to my life's melody had ceased. I broke away from him, hearing my own breath darken the air with a horrible, keening cry.
He'd never look at me with love again. The mouth which had kissed me, reassured me and told me he loved me would never utter another word. Those strong arms that had plucked me from the ocean, carried me to safety, fought for me and held me through ecstasy, grief and sleep, had lost their strength forever. Arms that would never hold our daughter as he called her his lass, told her he loved her and gave her a father's first kiss. Apalala Belinda would never know her father's love or hear his voice call her his lass. And nor would I.
William, the man I loved, no longer lived.
Something warm trickled down my cheek and I wiped it away, expecting blood. Instead, I found salt tears.
Tears William had begged me never to cry for him. Not if he could no longer comfort me.
I staggered to my feet, barely noticing the contractions any more. I would honour his memory, his last wishes. The pain in my belly was nothing to the sensation of my heart breaking. I couldn't seem to stem the flow of tears, so I sealed my tear ducts the only way I knew how. One step. Another. The cliff was so close and the water waited below.
I glanced back one last time at William, the man I'd loved more than life itself.
Goodbye. The word seized in my throat and wouldn't come out.
And I jumped.
Twenty-Three
Waves patted me sympathetically as I blinked my underwater eyelids into place. Sirens couldn't cry beneath the surface. I opened my gills, letting cold water cool my blasted heart. I tore away my clothes – the last trappings of my human existence, my life on land with William, who was no more. I'd never wear the hateful things again.
A powerful contraction seized me and I screamed. The pressure was intense – I knew I'd soon have to push her body from mine. The daughter William would never know, never hold in his arms. I screamed in frustration this time, knowing I had to find a safe place in the shallows to birth her, where sharks couldn't reach us. The subsurface mouth of the Grotto yawned before me and I undulated my way in. I swam clumsily, realising that my tail flukes hadn't extended and each kick was powered by my legs and not my tail at all. Squeezing through tunnels that were barely wide enough for a pregnant mermaid, I stopped only to shriek through the pain of each contraction. They were close now – too close. I needed to push on, push through them, to reach my grandfather's cave in time. Or I'd give birth to William's daughter in the dark.
"NO!" I shouted, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls.
Cold hands fastened around mine, dragging me through the tunnels faster than I could swim. It wasn't until my head broke the surface that I saw her face. Mother. She'd won.
Helpless with another pain, I barely felt her lift me out of the water and onto the ledge where I'd once slept. Before William was mine.
My back pressed against the wall as she shoved my knees to my chest.
"It's time to push, child. A new heir is about to be born."
"I am no child, you BITCH!" I shrieked in English, but my body pushed obediently. I panted and pushed again. Apalala would be born in the Grotto, where our little water dragon was conceived. And I resolved to fight once more. As long I had Apalala, she would never win. And raging at my mother held the grief at bay, if only for a moment.
I roared insults at my mother that she didn't understand as I laboured through the night to bring William's daughter into the world. It felt good to finally say what I thought, without worrying about the retribution she might take on those I loved. William was beyond her reach now. So I screamed and pushed and swore some more.
Until the faint light of dawn filtered into the cave and Mother laid William's beautiful daughter on my breast, over my broken heart. Her watered gold tail slapped against my belly, and little Apalala looked up at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My throat swelled with an ocean of tears for the man I'd lost, but my siren eyes couldn't cry. And a tiny tongue of flame flickered up inside me for my daughter, filling a small part of the emptiness where my heart had once been.
"Apalala Belinda McGregor, I swear that this ocean will be yours. One day you'll rule the Elder Council as my grandmother once did, but not because of my ancestry. Because you're William McGregor's daughter, and he wanted to give you the world. It's the least I can do to honour his memory."
Faintly, I heard the sound of male voices raised in consternation.
"My God, it's McGregor! He's dead!"
"Someone send word to his wife."
"We can't reach her. The Islander sailed last night. Mrs McGregor is gone."
Yes, I agreed silently. You'll never reach her again, for Maria McGregor is nothing but sea-foam on the surface now, while Sirena swims in the depths below. Until the time comes for me to rise again.
The tale will continues in
Ocean's Rise
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Author's Note
The Turbulence and Triumph series started out as a prequel to my modern day Ocean's Gift series. Those who have read it already knew William's fate was set in stone...but even I wished I could change it. Ocean's Birth is undoubtedly the hardest book I've ever written.
If you'd like to be the first to know when I release Ocean's Rise, the next Turbulence and Triumph book after this one, you can sign up to receive emails about my new releases HERE.
And if you'd like a taste of the modern day series...read on for FIVE bonus chapters from Water and Fire, which begins with an accident, a death and a birth...but a very different midwife, who you might recognise...
A screech and a thump were my only whisper of warning.
I sighed. Another suicide.
I rounded the corner. The humped body of the big buck kangaroo sprawled like a sleeping seal by the side of the road. No other animal has a death-wish quite like a kamikaze kangaroo. The bitumen glittered in my headlights, as if frosted over in preparation for the dawn. The crunch beneath my tyres belied the thought of ice. I knew the sound of crushed glass.
The tail-lights of the tiny Toyota bled their glow onto the gravel beneath. The tree toppled between those two red eyes had folded the roof into a pair of ominous knitted eyebrows.
I slowed to a stop in the gravel behind it, hoping my help wouldn't be necessary. I left my headlights on to illuminate the wrecked hatchback. "Hello?" I called.
The answering groan was deep and came from the car. I peered through the back window, but the inflated airbags inside made it hard to see. I approached the driver's door.
"Are you okay?" I asked, knowing the answer already as I surveyed the damage done by both the kangaroo and the tree the driver had blindly swerved into.
"No," whimpered a female voice. "I...I can't get out."
Her door had popped partly open, so it wasn't difficult to pull on the handle to widen the gap. The airbag sprouting from her steering wheel pinned her to the seat. Under the weight of the fallen tree, both the roof and the console tightened into a cage around the airbag, making her car a p
added cell in which she started to panic. She struggled to twist out of her seat, but she couldn't.
I waited a moment, before asking, "Can you undo your seat belt, or is it stuck?"
She looked at me in wonder and began fumbling for the seat belt buckle. I clearly heard the click that released her, before her scream shattered the air.
When she ran out of breath, she panted for a moment before she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said hoarsely.
I gritted my teeth into a smile. "Nothing to be sorry about. Let's get you out of there."
I helped her out of the driver's seat and onto her shaky legs. Only as she straightened beside me did I see the swollen belly that the airbag had hidden. I had barely a second to recognise her pregnancy before another contraction seized her. My arms were strong enough to support her, but her scream was longer this time. I saw the blood and fluid staining the driver's seat and felt a frisson of fear.
No. Can't hesitate. I'll do whatever it takes to save her. I won't lose this patient.
When the sound had died away, I said quickly, "Let's get you to my car, where you can lie down."
I helped her hobble to my car in time for her to topple into the back seat as her next contraction hit. Her scream rang in my ears, but I pulled out my phone, ready to ring for help as soon as she was silent.
I looked down. No signal. I held her life in my hands and mine alone. No, not just hers. Her unborn child, too.
So be it.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered, "but I think I'm having my baby, too."
For the first time, I smiled properly. "Then you're in luck. I'm Belinda, one of Albany Regional Hospital's best midwives and I'm on my way to work. I guess I'm starting early today, with you as my first patient. What's your name?"
"Miranda Nelson," she groaned over the next contraction. A gout of blood soaked the seat beneath her.
"I'll buckle you up and then we'd best get going," I said brightly, hoping there were no police up yet to catch me speeding. If I didn't get her to hospital soon, Miranda might bleed to death.
Not on my shift she won't.
"I'm sorry," Miranda sobbed, before another scream sounded her next contraction.
"No need," I replied cheerfully. I found myself singing under my breath. I lifted my voice a little so she might hear the soothing song, too. After all, it can't hurt. She's in enough pain already.
A wail heralded another contraction, Miranda's panicked panting punctuating the time between. I glanced at my watch. Five minutes. With the contractions so close, the next one should hit just as we get there.
I braked carefully as we reached the ambulance entrance, the sound drowned in Miranda's deep groan. I threw myself out of my door and pelted to hers.
"EMERGENCY. I NEED A WHEELCHAIR!" I bellowed as a stricken-looking ward clerk appeared at the door.
"Yes, Belinda," Helen replied smartly, vanishing back inside. She returned in a moment with the small hospital's only wheelchair, angling it perfectly to catch Miranda as I levered her out of the car.
Helen pursed her lips at the sight of blood in the back seat of my car, but she said nothing. I passed her my keys as I took hold of the wheelchair. "Can you take care of my car, Helen?" I asked brightly, already rolling Miranda inside.
With the help of a sleepy orderly named Rob, I quickly ensconced Miranda in a birthing suite, her wail rising as another contraction hit her.
"Where's Jill?" I asked Rob, before he left the room.
"In with Mrs Barker. She went into labour and won't let Jill leave. Jill and the anaesthetist are trying to persuade her to have an epidural, but she swears she won't."
Two difficult births in one night – Mrs Barker and now Miranda. This was going to be harder than I'd thought. I sucked in a breath, wondering who else would be able to help me. "Where's Dr Henderson?"
Rob shrugged. "He's not on duty – he's on the afternoon shift. We got a new intern for the morning shift – he's shaking in his office. I swear he goes whiter every time Mrs Barker bellows. Not like you – everyone knows you're the ice queen. Cool, calm and collected – no matter what."
The last thing I needed was a terrified intern for this birth. Alone, then. "Can you send the anaesthetist to me, after he's done with Mrs Barker? Miranda Nelson was in a car accident, and it looks like she's gone into premature labour."
Miranda let out another hoarse scream.
"And get someone to call her husband. He's up in Perth this week, I believe – tell him we'll have her flown up to King Edward Memorial Hospital as soon as we can. Call the Flying Doctors for transport, too." I looked at Miranda, straining through another contraction.
Rob hurried out, leaving us alone.
"Just you and me, Miranda," I said softly.
"No," Miranda gasped out. "She's coming. She's coming...urngh!"
Not wanting to believe her, I examined her as quickly as I could. She was almost fully dilated. There would be two patients for transport, not one.
And it's up to me to make sure they survive.
"So she is," I replied, keeping my voice calm. "It's time to push, Miranda. I hope you have a name picked out."
I watched with worried eyes as the paramedic strapped Miranda into a stretcher and loaded her into the small aircraft, followed by her newborn child.
"Thank you," Miranda said hoarsely, a smile stretching her face as her eyes shimmered with tears. "I don't know what would have happened without all your help."
My smile was more strained than hers. She didn't know what would have happened, but I did. The child would be in the hospital morgue and Miranda might have followed soon after. "My pleasure. The hospital staff in Perth will take care of you both. Your husband will be there when the plane lands."
The Royal Flying Doctor Service plane's doors slammed shut and the pilot crunched across the gravel on his way to the cockpit.
I heard a shout from across the field.
"Wait!"
The emergency gate ground open, motor whirring and metal grating on metal.
Both the pilot and I turned to see a lanky man running through the grinding gate and across the gravel beside the tarmac. His long strides cleared the distance faster than I could have. He waved a paper file that looked like medical records.
The man was breathless when he reached us, but he still managed to make his words intelligible. "The patient's file. Has to go with her on the plane." He held out the white cardboard folder with a rainbow of numbered stickers up the side.
The pilot took the folder with a nod and climbed into the plane. I backed away to a safe distance and the breathless man did the same. "Glad I got here in time," he gasped. He was almost doubled over, his hands near his knees, as he tried to catch his breath. He appeared to be speaking to the gravel beneath his large feet.
I looked around, but I saw no one else within earshot, so the man must have been speaking to me.
"What did you do to make the hospital staff send you racing out here with medical records? Did you steal one of the doctors' parking spots?" I asked, hoping to head off any further conversation.
Privately, I thought it more likely that he was a member of the cleaning staff that I hadn't met yet, who'd been sent here by the cowering intern, too shaken to venture out of his office to drive.
Instead of being offended, the man laughed. He stood up and I realised for the first time that the length of his limbs matched his height – he was taller than me. "I may be the most junior doctor at the hospital, but I still get my own parking spot. I'm Aidan Lannon, the intern. I wrote up the patient's notes so slowly that I didn't realise she'd left without them, so it was my responsibility to take them to the airport."
So this is the new intern – and he's not the useless, quivering wreck Rob said he was. He's a man who takes his responsibilities seriously and doesn't send a flunky to make up for his mistakes. I found I almost liked him. Begrudgingly, I began, "I'm Belinda," but that's as far as I got.
&
nbsp; "I know who you are. You're the midwife who saved that woman's life, and her baby. If it weren't for you, they both would've died." His eyes shone with something like admiration.
I sighed. "I'm the student midwife, who happened to drive past where she'd crashed her car into a kangaroo and took her to hospital with me at the start of my shift. When she went into premature labour, she became my patient, as Jill, the qualified midwife, was dealing with a difficult delivery for a woman who refused anaesthesia. I told Jill I'd let her know if I ran into trouble, but it wasn't necessary, and her patient needed her more."
I hit the gate release and we waited for it to clank open before trudging from the restricted airside gravel to the bitumen between the hire cars and the staff car park. Together, we stood and watched the tiny plane taxi down the runway. It took off, shrinking into the sky until it rose above the cloud ceiling and out of sight. Silently, I wished the woman luck, hoping that her daughter would survive long enough to leave hospital and go home with her mother. My hopes for happiness flew with her.
Happiness I will never know. My daughter no longer lives.
I sagged, suddenly realising how exhausted I was.
Yet the intern turned to me, his eyes full of unmistakeable awe. "If that was your first solo delivery, you're in the wrong profession. You should have studied medicine instead of nursing. I couldn't have done it."
I was too tired to explain to him that Miranda's child was by no means the first baby I'd delivered, nor the most difficult. Instead, I looked for my car in the parking lot.
"How did you get here?" Aidan persisted.
I wondered the same thing, as the only car I could see was not mine. "In the ambulance, with my patient," I replied slowly. The ambulance had left without me. I hoped that didn't mean there would be another emergency waiting at the hospital. If and when I managed to make my way back there. It would be a long walk – more than three hours. There wasn't a taxi in sight and my bag, my phone and my wallet were back in my locker at the hospital. I heaved a deep sigh and summoned the strength to start the long journey back.
Ocean's Birth Page 8