They eased Magda down onto the nearby sofa. Obviously no one was worried about getting it entirely wet.
‘Tell me what’s happening,’ said Rhuaridh.
Kristie was tempted to clear her throat and remind them all that two perfect strangers were in the room, but the woman she thought was Magda looked up and waved her hand in a throwaway manner. ‘Carry on,’ she said as she grimaced.
‘Another one?’ asked the woman quickly.
Magda nodded and gripped tightly onto the man Kristie suspected was her husband.
Rhuaridh finally seemed to remember they were there. He pointed at his friends. ‘Magda, David, Miriam, this is Kristie and Gerry from the TV show.’
Since Magda had already waved her hand in permission it seemed like he didn’t feel the need to say anything else.
Kristie could see the way that David was looking at Rhuaridh. It was odd. She was brand new to these people but could already see a world of emotion without hearing any words. David was holding back panic, Magda had an edge of fear about her, and Miriam—who must be the midwife—had her professional face in place, while worry seemed etched on the lines on her forehead.
Rhuaridh knelt by the sofa and held Magda’s hand. ‘I thought you had this planned to precision.’
She patted her stomach, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on Miriam’s actions as she attached the monitor. ‘It seems Baby Price has his or her own plans.’
Miriam spoke in a low voice as she made the final adjustments. ‘Spontaneous rupture of membrane a few hours ago. Labour has been progressing well with no concerns. Magda’s around eight centimetres dilated, but she feels baby has stopped moving in the last ten minutes.’
‘It’s a boy,’ said Rhuaridh. ‘He’s having a little sleep before the big event.’ The hoarseness in his voice gripped Kristie around the chest. He was worried. He was worried about his friend’s baby.
Magda tutted. ‘We don’t know it’s a boy. We want a surprise.’
She was scared to make eye contact with Gerry. This was beginning to feel like a bad idea. An old man tragedy she’d almost been able to bear. Anything with a baby? No way.
Miriam flicked the switch and the monitor flickered to life. After a few seconds a noise filled the room. Kristie almost let out a cheer. Even she could recognise the sound of a heartbeat.
But the rest of the room didn’t seem quite so joyous. Magda clenched her teeth as she was obviously gripped with a new contraction.
All other eyes in the room seemed fixed on the monitor. Kristie leaned forward, trying to see the number on the screen. Ninety, wasn’t that good?
‘What’s happening?’ asked Magda.
There was sense in the room of collective breath-holding. The numbers on the screen and the corresponding beat noises crept upwards.
Rhuaridh and Miriam whispered almost in unison. ‘Cord prolapse.’
This was all way above Kristie’s head.
Magda let out a small squeak of desperation. ‘No.’ As a doctor it seemed she knew exactly what that could mean even if Kristie didn’t.
Rhuaridh pulled out his phone and dialled. ‘Air ambulance. Obstetric emergency.’ His voice was low and calm. He moved over to the corner of the room where Kristie couldn’t hear him any more. By the time he’d finished, David had walked towards him.
‘Tell me what’s happening.’
Rhuaridh nodded. ‘The cord is coming down the birth canal before, or adjacent to, the baby. It means that every time Magda has a contraction, there’s a risk the cord can be compressed and affect the blood flow to your baby.’
‘Our baby could die?’ David’s words were little more than a squeak.
Rhuaridh shook his head, but Kristie could see the tense muscles at the bottom of his neck. The tiny hairs prickled on her skin. She was useless here—no help whatsoever. What did she know about medical emergencies?
She walked over to the window and looked outside, putting her hands on her hips and taking a few breaths.
The midwife’s voice cut across momentary panic. ‘Magda, we’re going to change your position. Kristie!’ The voice was sharp—one you wouldn’t hesitate to follow. ‘Run upstairs to the bedroom and grab me all the pillows on the bed.’
Rhuaridh finished his call and moved over to help move Magda onto her side. Kristie did exactly what she’d been told and dashed up the stairs in the house, turning one way then the other until she found the room with the large double bed and grabbed every pillow on it. She paused for the briefest of seconds as her eyes focused on the little white Moses basket at the side of the bed. The basket that had been placed there with the hope and expectation of a beautiful baby.
She held back the sob in her throat as she ran back down the stairs and thrust the pillows towards Rhuaridh. He and Miriam moved in unison. Rhuaridh spoke in a low voice as he helped adjust Magda’s position with some pillows under her left flank and her right knee and thigh pulled up towards her chest. ‘The position is supposed to alleviate pressure on the umbilical cord.’ His words were quiet and Kristie wasn’t sure if he was explaining to her or to David.
Magda’s hands were trembling slightly. She was scared and Kristie’s heart went out to her. How must this feel? All of a sudden this felt like a real intrusion instead of a filming opportunity. How dared they be there right now?
Rhuaridh’s gaze connected with hers. She wasn’t quite sure what she was reading there. His voice seemed a little steely. ‘Gerry, the air ambulance will land in the field next to the house—you might want to get that.’ Gerry nodded and was gone in the blink of an eye.
She was still looking at those bright blue eyes, trying to control the overwhelming sensation of being utterly useless in a situation completely out of her area of expertise. Right now all she could do was send up a prayer that both Magda and this baby would be fine. It was amazing how quickly a set of circumstances could envelop you. Was this what every day was like for a doctor?
All of a sudden she had a new understanding of her grumpy doctor. This was a situation he could end up in any day, and today it involved a friend. She could almost sense the history in the room between them all. The long-standing friendship, along with the expectations. If something happened to Magda or this baby, things would never be the same again.
The monitor for the baby kept pinging. At least that was reassuring. Miriam and Rhuaridh had a conversation about whether another examination should be carried out. Both agreed not, though Kristie averted her gaze while Miriam did a quick visual check to reassure that no cord was protruding.
Rhuaridh moved over next to her and she caught a whiff of his woody aftershave. ‘What’s gone wrong?’ Kristie whispered. Magda was holding her husband’s hand, her eyes fixed on the monitor that showed the baby’s heartbeat.
Rhuaridh spoke in a low, quiet voice. ‘Magda wasn’t at high risk for anything. She’d planned for this home birth within an inch of her life. Cord prolapse is unusual, and Magda has no apparent risk factors. But, right now, every time she has a contraction, the baby’s heartbeat goes down, meaning the cord is being compressed.’
‘Can’t you do anything?’
He shook his head. ‘The cord isn’t obviously protruding, so we just need to get Magda to hospital as soon as possible. This baby needs to be delivered and Magda will need to have a Caesarean section.’ He ran his hand through his hair, the frustration on his face evident. ‘We just don’t have the facilities here for that—or the expertise.’
‘How long does the air ambulance take to get here?’
‘Usually not long,’ he said, then looked upwards as a thud-thud-thud noise could be heard in the distance.
Kristie’s heart started thudding in her chest. Maybe everything was actually going to be okay?
Magda let out a groan, and Kristie held her breath as she watched Rhuaridh and Miriam move to support her as she was hit
by another contraction. All eyes were on the monitor, and although the heart rate went down, it didn’t go down quite as much as it had before.
Rhuaridh glanced towards the door a few times. Kristie could see him weighing up whether to ask David to go and meet the crew or whether to go himself.
After a few seconds he squeezed Magda’s hand. ‘Give me a minute.’ Then he jogged out the main door and across towards the field. Kristie couldn’t help but follow him. Gerry had positioned himself outside to capture the landing and the crew emerging from the helicopter.
They didn’t waste any time. Within a few minutes Rhuaridh and Miriam had helped keep Magda into the correct position as they assisted her onto the trolley. The CTG monitor was swapped over for another and then Magda and David disappeared inside the helicopter before it lifted off into the air.
They all stood watching the helicopter disappear into the distance, Gerry with his camera firmly on his shoulder.
Once the helicopter finally vanished from view there were a few moments of awkward silence. They all turned and looked at the open door of the house. Miriam was first to move, walking back into the house, putting her hands on her hips and taking a deep breath.
The space felt huge and empty without Magda. The birthing pool lay with only its rippling water, monitors, blood-pressure cuff, the midwife’s case and Rhuaridh’s, all alongside the normal family furnishings. Pictures of David and Magda on their wedding day. The sofa with the now squelchy cushions. A multitude of towels.
‘I guess we’d better clean up,’ said Kristie.
She wasn’t quite sure where that had come from. Cleaning up was definitely not her forte.
She bent down and lifted one of the sofa cushions, wondering if she should take it to the kitchen to try and clean it off and dry it out.
Miriam had started picking up all the midwifery equipment.
Rhuaridh appeared in front of her and grabbed the cushion. ‘Leave it. We’ll get it. You should just go.’
She blinked. Wondered what on earth she’d just done wrong. She’d just witnessed a scene that had almost made her blood run cold. Had she ever been as scared as this?
Yes. Probably. But that part of her brain was compartmentalised and knowingly put away. It was better that way. It felt safer that way. The only time she let little parts of it emerge was when she volunteered three nights a month on the helpline. It was the only time she let down her guard. Virtually no one knew about that part of her life. Louie did. He’d been there for her when she’d got the original phone call telling her to come to the hospital. Gerry had been there too.
Louie had held her hand in the waiting room. He’d put an arm around her when she’d been given the news, and he’d stood at the door as she’d had to go and identify her sister’s body.
Her beautiful, gorgeous, fun-loving sister. She almost hadn’t recognised her on the table. Her skin had been pale with an ugly purple mark on her neck. When she’d touched her sister’s hand it had been cold and stiff. The scars on her sister’s wrists and inside her elbows had taken her breath away.
Everything had been new to her. She’d had no idea about the self-harm. She’d had no idea her sister had been depressed. Jess had hidden all of this from her—to all intents from everyone. It had only been a long time afterwards when she’d been left to empty her sister’s apartment and go through her things that she’d discovered a frequently phoned number that was unfamiliar. The thing that had pricked her attention most had been the number of times that Jess had phoned—and yet had disconnected the calls in under a minute. That’s when she’d discovered the helpline.
It was situated in their city and manned by counsellors and trained mental health professionals, staffed twenty-four hours a day. One visit to the centre had made her realise she had to try and help too. She’d undergone her training, and now manned the phone lines three nights a month. The small hours of the morning were sometimes the busiest in the call centre. She’d learned when to talk, and when not to. She’d learned that sometimes people just wanted to know that someone had heard them cry. Had heard them at all.
It always took her back to the fact that she wished Jess had stayed on the line a little longer—just once. It might have made the difference. It might have let her know she was safe to confide how she was feeling and didn’t have to hide it.
Occasionally she would get a flashback to part of that first night. Hospitals were a place she’d generally avoided ever since, associating the sights and sounds with the memories of that night. It was part of the reason she’d been reluctant about this gig.
But now she was realising it was something more. Last month, with John Henderson’s body, and this time, when she’d glanced at the cot upstairs—patiently waiting for its baby—she’d felt a sweep of something else. Pure and utter dread. The kind that made her heart beat faster and her breathing kind of funny.
Her heart had sunk as the helicopter had disappeared into the distance, not knowing what the outcome would be for Magda and the baby. She didn’t care about the show right now. She didn’t care about anything.
And all that she could see was this great hulking man standing in front of her with the strangest expression on his face. His hands brushed against hers as he closed them around the cushion, gripping it.
He gave a tug towards himself. ‘I think it would be best if you go now.’
She couldn’t understand. ‘But the room...’ She let go of the cushion and held out her hands, looking over at the birthing pool and wondering how on earth it would be emptied and taken down. ‘You’ll need help to clean up.’
She wanted distraction. She wanted something else to think about. Anything to keep her mind busy until there was news about mother and baby.
‘I’m sure Magda and David would prefer that their house be fixed up by friends.’ He emphasised the word so strongly that she took a step backwards and stumbled, putting a steadying hand on the window frame behind her.
It was then she saw it. The flash across his face. He needed distraction just as much as she did. Probably more. He must be worried sick. Of course he was.
She’d only just met this pregnant woman. He’d known her for—how long? She wouldn’t even like to guess. She knew they’d been workmates in the practice but she hadn’t really had a chance to hear much more.
‘I want you to go now,’ he said as he turned away. ‘We’ll let you know how things are.’
It was a dismissal. Blunt. She wanted to grab him by the arm and yank him around, ask him who he thought he was talking to. In another life she might have.
But if she fell out with Dr Gillespie the whole show could be up in the air. So instead she pressed her lips together and looked around for her bag, grabbing it and throwing it over her shoulder, walking out the room and leaving the disarray behind her.
Gerry was standing at the door. She didn’t care if the camera was on or not. ‘I hate him,’ she hissed in a low voice as she walked past.
* * *
Rhuaridh knew he’d just been unreasonable. He knew that Magda had agreed to the TV crew filming. But none of them had expected the outcome that had just happened.
His heart felt twisted in a hard, angry knot. Every possible scenario was running through his head right now—and not all of them were good.
He wasn’t an obstetrician. The limited experience he’d had had been gained when he’d been a junior doctor. He knew the basics. He knew the basics of a lot of things. But island communities were different from most. The water cut them off from the mainland. There was no quick road to a hospital with a whole variety of specialists and equipment at his disposal.
In the last few months there had been a mountain climber with a severe head injury, a few elderly residents with hip fractures, a diver with decompression sickness, and now an obstetric emergency. All situations where he’d felt helpless—useless even. He hated that his pa
tients needed to wait for either a ferry crossing or an air ambulance to take them where they could get the help required. He hated that he had to stand and look into their eyes, knowing that on occasion that help might actually be too late. And today, when it had been his friend and colleague, he had felt as though he was being gripped around the chest by a vice.
He’d snapped needlessly at Kristie. He knew that. But he just couldn’t think beyond what would happen next for Magda, David and the baby. And until he knew that, he didn’t know what came next.
Guilt swamped him. ‘Kristie, wait,’ he shouted as he walked out after her.
She spun around towards him. The expression in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was every bit as panicked and worried as he was. She was also mad. And no wonder. He knew better than to act like this. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m just worried.’ He glanced up at the sky. The helicopter was well out of sight. He prayed things would go well. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. And thank you for your help in there. I just feel so...’ He struggled to say the word out loud, not really wanting to admit it.
‘Helpless?’ Kristie added without hesitation. He could see her eyes searching his face. Wondering if he would agree.
He closed his eyes for a second and nodded as the rush of adrenalin seemed to leave his body all at once. ‘Helpless,’ he agreed with a sigh. ‘I won’t be able to think about another thing until I know they’re both okay.’
‘Neither will I,’ she said quickly. Should he really be surprised? It was the first real time since she’d got here that he’d taken the time to really look at her, really see something other than the bolshie American TV presenter. There was something there. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Her hand reached across her chest and covered the hand he had on her shoulder. He felt a jolt. It must be the warmth of her palm against his cold skin. She licked her bare lips. All her makeup had disappeared in the last few hours. She didn’t need it. Something sparked in his brain. Had he really just thought that?
Tempted by the Hot Highland Doc Page 5