Midwife's Baby Wish

by Gill Sanderson

  When he returned he had her lean forward so he could lift the temporary dressing on the back of her head. ‘Doesn’t look too bad. I’d like to put a suture in, though, just to be certain. Now, ordinarily I’d ask a nurse to wash your hair. But I haven’t got a nurse, so do you mind if I do it?’

  ‘You, wash my hair?’

  ‘I don’t want you to try to do it yourself. So either I do it or you stay smelling of lake and crusted with blood.’

  ‘Did anyone tell you that you’re a very persuasive man? Where do we perform this hair-washing?’

  ‘I have a tiny bathroom. If we leave the door open, I think there might be room enough there for the pair of us.’

  Lyn borrowed his dressing gown and they decided that first of all she would have a shower. He passed through the rest of the tracksuit and she dressed, then sat on a tiny stool with her back to the washbasin. Adam was gentle, shampooing her hair and dabbing it dry. Then he decided that he didn’t need to shave any hair away and could suture her cut quite easily. She told him she could put a plaster on her leg herself.

  ‘What happened to my shirt and shorts?’

  ‘They’re in the cockpit, drying. You’re not going to put them on?’

  She waved at the basin in front of her. ‘I thought I might make use of your facilities and do a bit of clothes-washing. If you don’t mind?’

  ‘Be my guest.’ Adam fetched the garments and passed her a small packet of washing powder. This man was amazing!

  She washed and rinsed everything, including her bra and briefs, wrung them out then carried them through to the cockpit. She felt a little uneasy, wearing no underwear, but consoled herself with the thought that the baggy tracksuit would hide the fact.

  The sun was out again. The squall that had resulted in her capsizing had long passed and it was a glorious September day again. ‘Do you mind if I turn your beautiful cruiser into a washing line?’

  He waved an urbane hand. ‘It’ll make it seem more like a working boat. Spread your things on the deck, they’ll soon dry. Then sit here in the sun and we’ll get to know each other. And in a minute we’ll have some lunch. Are you hungry yet? Cold water makes me hungry.’

  ‘It would be nice to have something to eat.’ Lyn realised that, yes, she was hungry. But her native caution asserted itself. What had he meant when he’d said that they would get to know each other?

  While she’d been in the shower he’d somehow washed and combed his own hair. Now he did look like a TV presenter. There was something in his face that inspired confidence. She felt that whatever this man told her she would believe. He wasn’t the kind of man she usually took to, but, in spite of herself, she found herself liking him. And so she was wary.

  She sat on the other side of the cockpit from him, having spread out her washing, and huddled the folds of the tracksuit to her body.

  ‘It was good of you to bring those papers to me,’ Adam said. ‘They were quite important. I’ve got to go down to London tomorrow and I’m glad to have read them first. Now, would you like to dine in the saloon or shall we eat out here? That locker lid there cleverly converts into a table.’

  ‘I’d like to eat out here. But may I help you …?’

  ‘No need. I threw a few things together while you were asleep. Just sit there and recuperate and leave it all to me.’

  He seemed remarkably efficient. Within minutes there was a table fixed in the cockpit, a cloth and cutlery on it. He served soup, which she suspected was home-made. To follow came a tossed salad, chicken and hot rolls. ‘You did all this yourself? I thought TV presenters ate in expensive canteens and were taken out for posh meals.’

  ‘That does happen sometimes. But once I was a penniless student, and I liked to eat well. So I taught myself to cook. There’s not much difference in time or money between eating well and eating badly. I’ve got a fridge and freezer on board and every three days I call in for supplies. Now, more chicken?’

  Lyn was enjoying herself. It was easy to ignore the dull ache in her head, to forget that she was sitting in a baggy borrowed tracksuit with no underwear on. She was enjoying herself because she was with this man. And he seemed to be going out of his way not to alarm her. There was no aggressive masculinity. He was content to sit and be with her.

  ‘Why are you coming up here to work?’ Lyn asked. ‘We’re a long way from the bright lights of London.’

  ‘I’m a doctor,’ he replied simply. ‘It’s what I love doing more than anything. Even more than making TV programmes,’ he added with a smile.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve never seen one of your programmes,’ she said, and found that she was genuinely sorry. ‘I just don’t seem to have time. But won’t you be lonely away from your friends?’

  ‘No. London can be a lonely place even though there are so many people there. I’m looking forward to something different.’

  ‘You’ll like the practice. We’re like a family, we look after each other.’ Lyn paused, wondering how to phrase the next question. She decided to be blunt. ‘You’re not married?’

  Adam didn’t seem to mind her frankness. ‘No. Never have been and there’s no one in mind at the moment. But I’m not against marriage. I just never met anyone … you said you were a widow? I don’t mean to pry.’

  She had told the story so many times before that she should have become used to it. But it was still hard. ‘I was married for five wonderful years. And then three years ago my husband was killed in a farming accident. I think of him every day. But I have my work and that is very fulfilling.’

  ‘I can imagine. You had no children? They can make a difference to even the saddest thing.’ His voice was gentle.

  ‘No. No children. I had a late miscarriage and there was never a chance again.’

  Rather to her surprise, she thought that he was genuinely upset by her story. She could tell that he wanted to know more, but was too courteous to ask. And for the moment she didn’t want to say any more.

  When their meal was over, he again refused her offer of help. I’ll clear away, I know exactly where everything goes. This won’t take me five minutes.’

  So Lyn sat out there in the sun, enjoying the coffee that he brought her.

  And when he rejoined her she said, rather reluctantly, ‘I suppose I ought to be getting back. Somehow.’

  ‘No problem. You’re still injured and you’re not to strain yourself in any way. I’ve got your boat tied alongside, I’ve baled her out and unshipped the mast. I’ll just tow her back to … where did you come from?’

  ‘I’m parked at the sailing club. I can leave the boat there and arrange to have a new mast fitted.’

  They both looked over the edge of the cruiser at the dinghy tied alongside. ‘I’ve never been sailing,’ he said. ‘Is it fun?’

  ‘It’s fun and hard work. If you like, when I get a new mast I’ll take you for a sail. ‘

  ‘I’ll hold you to that. Now, should I be towing you back?’ Adam’s face and voice were both bland. ‘Of course, you’ve had a nasty knock on the head so it might be a good idea if you didn’t drive straight away. If you don’t have to get back, why don’t you stay on board for the afternoon? We could go for a bit of a cruise, up and down the lake.’

  ‘Don’t you have work to do?’

  ‘I do. But I fancy a rest. And I came up here for the scenery. I’d like to share watching it with someone.’

  Lyn knew she ought to say no. But why not? It was just a trip up and down the lake with a colleague. ‘I’d love a cruise.’ She smiled.

  So Adam fastened her dinghy astern and they pottered down the quiet west side of the lake, admiring the views and trying to avoid the traffic on the east side. They passed the car ferry and headed for the centre of the lake, now blue and silver under the high sun. In the distance they could dimly hear the noises of civilisation – the rumble of traffic, the shouting of children in the chilly water, an occasional radio. But they felt alone. This was their own little world.

  After a w
hile Adam said that he would take her back now. How had he known that she had been thinking it was time they returned? But she said nothing. They headed back towards town and she saw the buildings growing bigger and thought that in a few minutes they would have to part. Her clothes were now nearly dry. Lyn went to the bedroom to change, rather sadly taking off the baggy tracksuit.

  When they were nearly at the yacht club he hove to and she slid overboard back into her dinghy. She could paddle to shore from here. ‘Thank you so much,’ she called, ‘I have enjoyed…’

  ‘Not goodbye yet. I’ll see you at the club in a couple of minutes.’ Then he pushed the dinghy towards the shore.

  He must have moored the cruiser at one of the jetties belonging to the boatyard, because five minutes later, just as she was arranging to have a new mast fitted, he turned up behind her, then walked her to her car.

  ‘I’m sorry you hurt your head,’ he said, ‘but you’ve no idea how much I’ve enjoyed today.’

  ‘I’ve enjoyed it, too.’

  ‘Perhaps we could have another day out on the boat together?’

  This was heading into dangerous territory. ‘Perhaps,’ Lyn said uncertainly, ‘but I am kept very busy, you know. I don’t have a lot of time.’ She didn’t know quite what else to say and her words came out more stilted than she’d intended. ‘I’m glad to welcome you to the practice.’

  ‘I’m glad to join it. It’s nice to think that I’ve got at least one friend there already. Now, you know what head wounds are like – get yours checked.’ Adam leaned forward, kissed her gently on the cheek. ‘It’s been a good day for me, Lyn.’ Then he was gone.

  The streets of the little town were busy and it took all Lyn’s concentration to navigate the crowds of good-natured holidaymakers. But soon she was in the countryside, able to enjoy the scenery, to think over her day. She had a lot to think about.

  After being pulled out of the water she had really enjoyed her day – she couldn’t remember when she had enjoyed a day so much. She had felt an excitement that was new to her. Adam was such good company. He made her feel alive, he made her feel like a woman again.

  Then she felt foolish. All that was between her and him was simple animal attraction. He was a good-looking, charming man, probably practised because of his appearance on TV. She had been vulnerable to his charm because of the injury to her head. She had to remember that she was a widowed midwife, happy and fulfilled in her career and needing nothing more.

  Once she had been married. For five years she had been ecstatically happy – and then one afternoon her world had crashed about her. Her husband had left home one morning, and that afternoon he was dead.

  She’d thought she couldn’t survive the pain of that tearing apart. But somehow she had. And with survival had come a determination never to make herself vulnerable again. There was too much pain in love. She never wanted another man. Adam would be a friend – but nothing more.

  She drew up outside her home, one of the row of little terraced houses owned by the practice. Her neighbour Jane waved to her and called for her to come in for a coffee. Jane was the district nurse, and engaged to Cal.

  Lyn had plenty to tell her and when she had finished her story, Jane looked at Lyn’s injured head and decided that Adam was very competent and there was no need for Cal to look at the wound that evening. ‘Now, tell me, what’s he like?’

  Lyn shrugged. ‘He seemed pleasant enough. I think he’s a good doctor.’

  ‘He rescued you, fed you, took you for a trip round the lake and all you can say is that “he seemed pleasant enough”! I want details!’

  ‘I didn’t really notice. I suppose he’s good-looking and he’s got a nice voice.’

  Jane looked at her friend disapprovingly. ‘You know you get a little black mark on your soul every time you tell a lie,’ she said righteously.

  It was getting dark now. Some twenty miles away, Adam Fletcher was sitting in the cockpit of the cruiser, a glass of wine in his hand, watching the blood-red sun sink below the black line of the mountaintops. He’d had an interesting day.

  Lyn Pierce. If he closed his eyes he could imagine her sitting opposite him in the cockpit, wearing his old grey tracksuit. Strange how such a shapeless garment could look so good! And before that, when he had pulled off her wet outer clothes, she had been … no, that kind of thought was unprofessional!

  But one thing was certain. When she had opened her eyes, when they had first looked at each other, there had been a shiver of recognition, an instant attraction that both of them had felt. He’d felt it, he knew she’d felt it, too. But would she acknowledge it?

  At first sight she didn’t seem remarkable. Her face was pleasant, her figure trim. Her hair was cut short, close to her head. She seemed guarded. It had taken her a while to smile, and she tended to look downwards. Only after a while had she revealed herself. But slowly he had come to realize she was beautiful.

  What of her personality? He suspected that, having been widowed so suddenly, it had made her lock down her emotions. She’d been badly hurt and it wasn’t going to happen again. He knew she would be his friend. But if he indicated he wanted more than friendship, then what would happen? She would run.

  Did he want to be more than just her friend? After all, he had only just met her. It would take time. But something told him that, yes, possibly, this could be the woman he had longed for so much.

  How to persuade her of this?

  Chapter Two

  ‘I gather you met our new doctor yesterday,’ Cal Mitchell said to Lyn next morning. ‘I also gather from Jane that you got a bit of a head injury. In my room – I want to have a look.’

  ‘No need. Just one stitch and I feel…’ But she followed him to his room anyway.

  ‘It’s a great job,’ he said after a quick glance. ‘I’ll get Adam to do all our suturing. But it’s the last time I ask you to act as a water-postwoman. Think you’ll be able to work with him?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. Seems a good type.’

  ‘Quite. Jane says that you went for a trip round, the lake with him.’

  Lyn shrugged, just a little uncomfortably. ‘I’d hit my head. He said he wanted to keep an eye on me for a while to make sure that I was OK. I’m sure you’d have done exactly the same.’

  ‘Certainly,’ said Cal. ‘I’d have done exactly the same.’ She didn’t know what to make of his deadpan face.

  On Monday mornings she ran her parent-education class and then held the antenatal clinic. The surgery had a custom-built clinic, with all that she could possibly want to hand. To the side was her own small office, with her files and her desk and her own examination room. Cal believed that his staff could only give their best if they had room to manoeuvre. Everyone had their own desk, their own area of work and their own storage space. It didn’t seem much, but she knew midwives who were much less lucky.

  The parent-education classes were fun. They were as much a social occasion as a medical one. After a talk and the relaxation practice, the mums-to-be gathered together to compare notes, pregnancy outfits and gossip. Afterwards Lyn held the antenatal clinic and at the end of the morning she felt that she’d had a good time.

  The afternoon was spent on her rounds, checking babies due and babies just born. She enjoyed this, too, visiting homes in villages, farms and little outposts.

  ‘How much sleep do you get, Jenny?’ she asked a wan new mum.

  Somehow, Jenny managed a smile. ‘Not a lot. I’ll swear that baby waits till I’ve dozed off and then starts to cry. I feed her a bit and then I wake up and she nods off. It’s worst in the middle of the night.’

  Lyn thought for a minute. It wasn’t something she liked to recommend but … ‘You could express some milk. Keep it in a bottle and then get your husband to feed little Mary. I take it he’d be willing?’

  Jenny looked thoughtful. ‘I guess he would. He’s a farmer, he’s stayed up all night to feed his new animals – why not his own daughter? You’re sure it’ll b
e all right, Lyn?’

  ‘Perfectly all right. Lots of my mums do it. And you need your sleep.’

  Yes, it was enjoyable work, it was her life. Though she had to refuse an awful lot of cups of tea.

  When she got home that evening there, was a brief message on her answering machine, saying that her mast would be replaced by the following Friday. She blinked at this. After talking to Cal that morning, not once had she thought about the events of the previous day or her meeting with Adam. Even when her head had itched a little, she hadn’t thought about how she’d been injured. Why not? She wondered if she had unconsciously pushed Adam to the back of her mind, had decided just not to think of him. But why? Did he bother her that much? He was only a new colleague. Then she remembered that sudden flash of attraction and shivered.

  Irritated with herself, Lyn put on the kettle and turned to her mail. There was a thank-you card from a new mum, saying the baby was doing well and that it all would have been a lot harder without Lyn’s help. Feeling pleased, she put it on her mantelpiece. There were the usual advertising brochures, which she skimmed through and dropped into the bin. It struck her that she didn’t get much personal mail. Her life was local, constricted. How many letters would Adam Fletcher get? Why was she thinking about him so much?

  She was glad when she heard a knock on her door. It was Jane, with her niece Helen by her side. ‘Just in case you’re interested,’ Jane said, ‘Cal’s just phoned me and asked me to tell you. On TV this evening, at eight o’clock, there’s an awards show for the best documentaries. And our new doctor’s getting one. I thought you might like to watch.’

  ‘He said he had to go down to London today,’ Lyn said thoughtfully, ‘but he didn’t say he was getting an award.’

  ‘Obviously not a pushy type. Are you going to watch?’

  ‘I might as well,’ Lyn said carelessly. ‘I’ve got nothing much else to do and it’ll be interesting to see a bit of one of his programmes.’