Midwives On-Call. Alison Roberts

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Cathy could never have guessed her midwife’s nerves—Isla hid her emotions extremely well.

      And not just from the staff and patients.

      ‘Cathy!’ Isla said. ‘Look!’

      There he was.

      Isabel was holding up a beautiful baby boy with a mass of dark, spiky hair. His mouth opened wide and he let out the most ear-piercing scream, absolutely furious to be woken from a lovely sleep, to be born, of all things!

      ‘He’s beautiful,’ Dan said. ‘Cathy, look how beautiful he is. You did so well, I’m so proud of you.’

      The baby was whisked away for a brief check and Isla made her way over as Isabel continued with the surgery.

      He really was perfect.

      Four weeks early, he was still a nice size and very alert. The paediatrician was happy with him and the theatre midwife wrapped him in a pale cream blanket and popped on a small hat. He would be more thoroughly checked later but that visit to the parents, if well enough, came first.

      Isla took the little baby, all warm and crying, into her arms and she felt a huge gush of emotion. She had known that this birth would be emotional, but the feeling of finally being able to hand this gorgeous couple a healthy baby was a special moment indeed.

      She held the baby so that Cathy could turn her head and give him a kiss and then Isla placed him on Cathy’s chest as Dan put his arms around his little family.

      Isla said nothing. They deserved this time to themselves and she did all she could to make this time as private as a theatre could allow it to be. She stood watching as they met their son. Dan properly broke down and cried in front of his wife for the first time.

      ‘I can’t believe I’m finally a mum …’ Cathy said, and then her eyes lifted and met Isla’s. ‘I mean …’

      When Isla spoke, she was well aware of the conflicting feelings that Cathy might have.

      ‘You’ve been a mum for a very long time,’ Isla said, gently referring to their difficult journey. ‘Now you get the reward.’

      Isla’s time with Cathy and Dan didn’t finish there, though. After Cathy had been sutured and Recovery was happy with her status, Isla saw them back to the ward. Cathy simply could not stop looking at her baby and Dan was immensely proud of both his wife and son.

      They had made it to parenthood.

      Before Cathy was discharged Isla would have a long talk with her. Often with long-awaited babies depression followed. It was a very confusing time for the new mother—often she felt guilty as everyone around her was telling her how happy she must be, how perfect things were. In fact, exhaustion, grief over previous pregnancies, failure to live up to the standards they had set themselves could cause a crushing depression in the postnatal period. Isla would speak with both Dan and Cathy about it before the family went home.

      But not tonight.

      For now it really was about celebrating this wonderful new life.

      ‘I’m going to have a glass of champagne for you tonight,’ Isla said as she left them to enjoy this special time.

      She said goodbye to the staff on the ward then headed around to the changing room.

      She’d forgotten her dress, Isla realised as soon as she opened her locker. She could picture it hanging on her bedroom door and hadn’t remembered to grab it when she’d dashed for work that morning.

      She glanced at the time and realised she would be horribly late if she went home to change. She knew that she really ought to go straight there as there weren’t many people able to make it, given that it was Valentine’s Day. Alessandro had apparently been doing a run of nights in his previous job and had booked to go away for the weekend with his girlfriend before he started his new role.

      Isla rummaged through her locker to see if there was an outfit that she could somehow cobble together. She didn’t have much luck! There was a pair of denim shorts that she had intended to wear with runners. Isla had actually meant to start walking during her lunch break but, of course, it had never happened. She could hardly turn up at the Rooftop Bar in shorts and the skimpy T-shirt and runners that she had in her locker, but then she saw a pair of cream wedged espadrilles that she had lent to a colleague and which had been returned.

      Isla tried it all on but the sandals pushed her outfit from far too casual to far too tarty.

      Oh, well, it would have to do. She was more than used to turning heads. She didn’t even question if there was a dress code that needed to be adhered to. Isla didn’t have to worry about such things—it was one of the perks of being a Delamere girl. You were welcome everywhere and dress codes simply didn’t apply.

      She ran a comb through her long blonde hair and added a quick dash of lip gloss and some blusher before racing out of the maternity unit and hailing a taxi. As she sat in the back seat she realised that she was slightly out of breath—she hadn’t yet come down from the wonderful birth she had just witnessed.

      Elated.

      That was how she felt as she climbed the stairs and then stepped into the Rooftop Bar.

      And that was how she looked when Alessi first saw her. Tall, blonde and with endless brown legs, she walked into the bar with absolute confidence. She looked vaguely familiar, he thought, though he couldn’t place her. At first he didn’t even know if she was a part of the small party that was gathered.

      He knew, though, that, whoever she was, he would be making an effort to speak with her tonight. He watched as she gave a small wave and made her way over and he found out her name as the group greeted her.

      ‘Isla!’

      So this was Isla.

      Alessi knew who she was then. Not just that she was head midwife at The Victoria. Not just that she must be Charles Delamere’s younger daughter, which would explain why she was in such a high-up role at such a young age. No, it was more than that. Though he could not remember her from all those years ago, he knew the name—they had attended the same school.

      ‘I’m sorry that I’m so late.’ Isla smiled.

      ‘How did it go?’ Emily, one of the midwives, asked, referring to Cathy’s delivery.

      ‘It was completely amazing,’ Isla said. ‘I’m so lucky to have been there.’

      ‘And I’m so jealous that you were!’ Emily teased, and then made the introductions. ‘Isla, this is Alessandro Manos, the new neonatologist.’

      Isla only properly saw him then and as she turned her slight breathlessness increased.

      He was seriously gorgeous with black, tousled curly hair and he was very unshaven. The moment she first met his black eyes all Isla could think was that she wished Rupert were here tonight.

      Isla and Rupert were seemingly the golden couple. They had been together since school, where Isla had been head girl and Rupert had been head of the debating team. One night they had gone to a party and it had been there, after a very awkward kiss, that Rupert had confessed to her that he was gay.

      Rupert

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