it had first thing this morning and her long blonde hair was still neatly coiled at the back of her head, with no errant tendrils to spoil the young woman’s aura of competence. Joan’s even features were as pleasing as the rest of her appearance, and her pale blue eyes never failed to be a little surprising. At present, however, the midwife’s smile was strictly professional.
‘Good timing, Hugh. I think the pethidine is wearing off. The entonox doesn’t seem to be providing enough additional relief any more.’
‘How’s it looking?’
‘Seven centimetres last time I checked, maybe eight. And that was twenty minutes ago so we shouldn’t be far off transition. She’s getting very tired, though. I think she might need some help. I’ve got the ventouse and forceps kits ready but I won’t call you until I know for sure.’
‘I’m glad you’re in charge here, Joan. It’s going mad everywhere else at the moment. Roll on Friday.’
‘I’m looking forward to it as well.’ Joan’s smile was less professional this time and it took Hugo a second to realise she was referring to their customary Friday night date and not the end of his week on full-time hospital cover that he had been referring to. He returned the smile, feeling a trifle guilty that the date hadn’t been a priority.
Nicola Cross, doing her best to deliver her second child, was delighted to see Hugo.
‘I’m so glad you’re still on duty, Dr Patterson.’
‘I would have come in for this anyway, Nicky. And I’m never far away.’ His smile was a little wry as he noted the healthy rate of beeping from the foetal heart-rate monitor. ‘Sometimes I think I should have bought a house a bit further on around the lake.’
‘You got part of the old Spencer farm, didn’t you?’ Nicola seemed eager to distract herself from the prospect of another contraction.
‘Yes. I was lucky enough to get a stretch of lakeside with the old shearers’ quarters and the woolshed.’
‘Is it true that some hotel chain offered Mrs Spencer millions for it?’ Nicola’s husband, Ben, was sitting beside the bed.
‘She certainly could have done a lot better than selling it to me, but she knew how much I loved the place.’ Hugo smiled fondly. ‘I inherited her dogs last year. Maybe she wanted them to live out their lives on a patch of their own land.’
‘Hugh’s converted the shearers’ quarters,’ Joan added. ‘It’s a beautiful little house now.’ She turned away to wash her hands and Hugo couldn’t help wondering if it had been the mention of the dogs that had prompted such laudable thoroughness in her technique. Despite some valiant efforts, Joan had never been able to hide her dislike of any domestic pet’s less hygienic attributes.
Nicola wasn’t listening any more. She had put the entonox mask to her face and was sucking in long breaths of the pain-relieving mix of oxygen and nitrous oxide.
Hugo waited until the contraction was over to examine Nicola. ‘You’re almost fully dilated,’ he told her. ‘So it shouldn’t be too much longer. It means I can’t give you any more pethidine, though, because it might affect the baby’s breathing.’
‘I’ll cope,’ Nicola said wearily. ‘As long as I know it’s going to be over soon.’ She groaned and pulled the mask to her face. ‘Here we go again.’
‘I thought it would be easier the second time around.’ Ben had risen to put his arm around his wife’s shoulders for support. Nicola wrenched the mask clear.
‘It was no picnic the first time, mate.’
Her choice of words was enough to prompt Hugo to move on. He would have to race up to the ward to check Nancy and then get back to see how Lizzie and Anne were coping with the aftermath of the sushi picnic.
Nicola’s mother was outside the delivery room. She appeared to be having difficulty retaining her hold on a two-year-old boy’s hand.
‘We’ve been around the car park three times,’ the older woman sighed. ‘There aren’t any more aeroplanes taking off over the road and Henry’s bored.’
‘Wanna go in the bus,’ Henry informed Hugo.
‘No.’ Hugo shook his head firmly. ‘It’s a nasty, smelly bus. You wouldn’t want a ride in that.’ He smiled at Henry’s grandmother, ignoring her faintly astonished expression. ‘It shouldn’t be too much longer before Henry’s brother or sister turns up. I’ll be back soon.’
‘Soon’ was fortunately an elastic expression. Megan hadn’t managed to get an IV line into Nancy so Hugo spent nearly fifteen minutes in the ward, coaxing an ancient vein to accept a cannula large enough to carry fluids and the hopefully life-preserving medication. Back in A and E, the break in Erin Willoughby’s forearm had been X-rayed by Steve, the technician.
‘Nice clean break,’ Hugo pronounced. ‘We can reduce and set that, no problem, so we won’t have to ship you off to the big smoke.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘How could you do this to us, Erin? You know how short-staffed we are.’
‘Sorry, Hugh.’ Erin’s wide smile removed some of the sincerity from her repentance. ‘But you should have seen the air I was getting with my jumps before I canned out. It was awesome!’
Thanks to the entonox, Erin’s smile was still apparent even when Hugo and Lizzie straightened her arm and applied the first layers of plaster bandages.
‘I’ll leave you to finish, Lizzie, and get another X-ray done. Sorry—it’s going to make you a bit late getting off duty.’
‘No problem,’ the older nurse assured him. ‘Can you just make sure Anne’s coping in Reception before you disappear again?’
Anne was coping admirably. She had provided a cup of tea for the bus driver and they were having an animated conversation in front of the silent, pale audience that filled all the seating the reception area had to offer.
‘So they come all the way to New Zealand just to do the white weddings?’
‘They have another ceremony in Japan later. Or maybe they do it first.’ The driver’s shrug indicated the unimportance of the order. ‘It’s great business, anyway. I do the honeymoon run every couple of weeks now.’
Hugo ran an experienced eye over the exhausted and somewhat bewildered-looking audience. ‘Things seem to have settled down here.’
‘Nobody’s been sick in the last twenty minutes.’ Anne nodded. She lowered her voice. ‘I think Jess might need danger money when she comes in to clean the loos tonight, though.’
‘Can’t say I’m looking forward to cleaning up my bus either.’ The driver drained his mug. ‘All part of the job, I guess, so I’d better get on with it. Thanks for your help, Doc.’
‘You’re welcome. I don’t think anybody will be wanting to go bungy-jumping or jet-boating tomorrow. They all need a good rest and an intake of clear fluids. Tell the tour guide to call a doctor if she’s worried about anyone later. The hotel management will be able to help.’
Walking down the corridor again, Hugo could see the young honeymooners shivering as they climbed back onto their bus. Night
