in the city and there are even a few male obstetricians working in the hospital, the desert people still hold fast to the old ways.’
‘Then what do you suggest?’ Sam demanded, in no mood to compromise. Her feelings didn’t enter into this, she reminded herself. It was her patient who mattered, not how hurt she had been when Khalid had rejected her. ‘I need Isra to work with me, do what I tell her to do as and when it’s necessary. It’s vital if we hope to deliver this baby safely.’
‘The only thing I can suggest is that we erect a screen across the window. Then I can stand outside and relay your instructions to her without actually being in the same room.’
‘That sounds like a plan,’ Sam agreed slowly, then nodded. ‘Yes. It should work so long as you’re able to hear what I’m saying.’
‘Oh, that won’t be a problem.’ He smiled faintly, his beautiful mouth turning up at the corners. ‘You have a very clear and distinctive voice, Sam. I’ll have no difficulty hearing you.’
‘Oh. Right.’
Sam felt a rush of heat sweep up her face and was glad of the darkness because it hid her confusion. That had sounded almost like a compliment and it was something she hadn’t expected. She turned away, hurrying back into the house before the idea could take hold. Khalid could have meant anything by the comment or he could have meant nothing and she would be a fool to get hung up on the idea. She quickly explained to Jess what was going to happen, half expecting the other woman to find it as ridiculous as she had done. However, Jess merely shrugged.
‘I’ve come across it before. Some of the African tribes don’t allow men to be present at a birth.’
‘Really? I had no idea,’ Sam admitted. She glanced round when she heard noises outside the window. ‘It sounds as though Khalid is getting everything organised. We’d better get set up in here.’
She and Jess worked swiftly as they spread a sterile sheet under Isra and donned their gowns. Sam decided that she would need to perform an episiotomy to help ease the baby’s passage. As it was presenting bottom first, it was harder for it to make its way out into the world and a small incision in the perineum would help enormously. It would also prevent the perineum becoming badly torn.
‘Can you explain to Isra that I’m going to do an episiotomy?’ she said clearly, glancing towards the window. A wooden screen had been erected across it so she couldn’t see Khalid and could only assume he was there. ‘If you can tell her why it’s necessary, it should make it less scary for her.’
‘Will do.’
His voice floated back to her, soft and deep and strangely reassuring. Although she couldn’t understand what he was saying to Isra, Sam knew that his tone would have reassured her if she’d been in the young woman’s position. It obviously did the trick because Isra stopped looking quite so scared.
Sam worked swiftly, administering a local anaesthetic before making the incision. The girl lay quite still, bearing the discomfort with a stoicism that filled Sam with admiration. ‘Well done,’ she told her, patting her hand.
She jumped when from the window came the sound of Khalid’s voice repeating her comment. His voice sounded so warm that she shivered before she realised what she was doing and stopped herself. The warmth of his tone wasn’t a measure of his regard for her but for Isra, she reminded herself.
She applied herself to the task, refusing to allow her thoughts to wander as she pressed gently on the top of the uterus to help ease the baby out. Isra’s labour pains were extremely strong now and Sam decided that she needed to stop the girl pushing.
‘I want you to take small breaths, like this,’ she told her, panting so Isra would understand what she wanted her to do.
Khalid repeated her instructions, although Sam noticed that he didn’t do the panting and smiled. Maybe it was expecting too much to hope he would mimic her. After all, he was a prince as well as a doctor! The thought made her chuckle and Jess looked at her quizzically.
‘OK, give. What’s tickled your funny bone?’
Sam knew that she should keep her thoughts to herself but she couldn’t resist telling Jess. ‘I was just wondering why our interpreter didn’t repeat all my instructions,’ she explained, raising her voice so that there’d be no chance of Khalid not hearing her. ‘He missed out the panting.’
Jess giggled. ‘Maybe not the done thing for a prince.’
‘Like those mums who opt for a section because they’re too posh to push?’ Sam grinned. ‘You could be right. He’s just too posh to pant!’
Khalid felt a rush of heat flow through him when he heard the amusement in Sam’s voice. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to know that he was the reason why she was laughing. She’d been so distant towards him since they’d met again, so reserved, so cold, and he hated it.
Sam possessed a natural warmth that had drawn him to her from the moment they had met. Although he was used to women fawning over him because of his position, Sam had never treated him as someone special. Her response to him had been wholly natural and he had loved that, loved seeing her eyes light up when he had walked into a room, loved hearing her voice soften, loved knowing that she had wanted to be with him for who he was. He might be a prince, he might be rich, he might be many things, but he had never felt more like himself than when he had been with her. He had never needed to pretend with Sam. Not until that last night.
The thought filled him with pain and he sucked in his breath, afraid that she would hear an echo of it when he spoke. He could hear her talking to Isra, her voice so calm and reassuring that he knew it would soothe the young mother’s fears even if the girl couldn’t understand the actual words. He applied himself diligently to the task of translating, doing his best to mimic Sam’s tone. He didn’t want to let her down; he wanted to support her in any way he could. When the reedy sound of a baby’s cry drifted out to him, his face broke into a smile.
‘Is it all right?’ he called through the screen.
‘Fine. A little battered, as is mum, but he’s in fine fettle,’ Sam called back, and he could hear the elation in her voice. That she was thrilled by the birth of this child was clear and it touched him that she should care so much.
‘It’s a boy, then?’ he said levelly, doing his best to control his emotions. He had to stop letting himself get carried away, had to remember that he had no rights where Sam was concerned. How she did or didn’t feel wasn’t his concern.
‘Yes. Jess is just weighing him …’ She broke off and then continued. ‘He’s almost three kilos so he’s not a bad weight either.’
‘That’s excellent,’ Khalid agreed. ‘I’ll go and inform the father if you don’t need me anymore.’
‘No, we’re fine.’ She paused then said quickly, ‘Thank you, Khalid. We couldn’t have managed nearly as well if you hadn’t translated for us.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ he said softly, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. Maybe it was foolish but it felt good to know that he had redeemed himself a little in her eyes.
He made his way to Isra’s parents’ house. Her husband, Wasim, had gone there to wait for news. He was delighted if a little overwhelmed when Khalid announced that he
