are associated with longer labours, more use of oxytocin and more use of forceps and ventouse. We add in opiates and reduce the bupivacaine dose, which allows some mobility while maintaining adequate pain relief, but even so there is an increased rate of instrumental delivery. If we can encourage the mother to use a different sort of pain relief, we do.’
‘Well, I failed with her, I’m afraid,’ Emma said gloomily, spreading her hands in a gesture of resignation. ‘I suppose it might be worth Sally giving it a try. You might have more luck.’
Sally tucked the notes under her arm and looked at Tom. ‘I thought most obstetricians were more than happy to dive in with instruments. It’s what you love doing.’
‘Women are designed to give birth,’ Tom said calmly. ‘Given the right amount of support and encouragement and some patience on our part, most of them manage it extremely well by themselves.’
‘Aren’t you rather talking yourself out of a job?’ Sally gave a faint smile and he shrugged.
‘Believe it or not, I already have more than enough work to keep me from my bed at night.’ He nodded to Emma. ‘And on that note, I’m off to do a ward round then I’m going to bed, if I can remember where it is. It’s so long since I last saw it that I may have trouble remembering, and I’m supposed to be working again tonight so there’s not much hope of seeing it then either. You can call me if you need me.’
He strode off, leaving Emma staring after him wistfully. ‘You see what I mean? Other doctors grab a woman as soon as she steps onto the labour ward and before you know it she’s had her waters broken, a drip up and she’s being given oxytocin. Tom lets a woman get on with it. He’s wonderful. And he doesn’t let the hospital management bully him into pushing patients through as fast as possible. Tom always says that labour takes as long as it takes.’ She gave Sally a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. You’ve probably guessed that I’d have his babies by now if he asked me.’
Sally felt a sharp flash of pain. She would have had his babies, too.
‘Not that I seriously entertain any hopes in that direction,’ Emma said lightly. ‘Our Mr Hunter is a workaholic. No time for a serious relationship. Was he like that when you knew him?’
‘Probably.’ Sally’s smile was noncommittal. ‘It was a long time ago.’
Seven years, six weeks, three days and seven hours to be precise.
‘Anyway …’ Emma waved a hand towards one of the delivery rooms ‘… go and have a chat with Charlotte. See if you can persuade her to try something different.’
‘Did you discuss the pool?’
‘She wasn’t keen.’
‘Aromatherapy?’
Emma shook her head. ‘She didn’t seem the type, but by all means go ahead. Tom would love you for ever if you manage to talk her out of an epidural.’
Sally picked up the notes and walked down the corridor, trying not to remember that at one point in her life she’d truly believed that Tom’s love would last for ever.
But she’d been wrong.
Pushing away painful memories, she opened the door to the delivery room and smiled at the woman on the bed.
‘Charlotte?’ She put the notes down on the side and walked across the room. ‘I’m Sally. I’m your midwife.’
The young woman was clutching the edge of the bed and breathing rapidly. ‘This is agony. I want an epidural.’
‘That’s not a problem,’ Sally said immediately. ‘We’ve called the anaesthetist, but while we’re waiting for him I just want to try a few things with you to help you relax. You’re very tense, Charlotte, and that will make the pain worse.’
She talked quietly to the woman, calming her down, and then she dimmed the lights slightly and settled her in one of the chairs.
‘Do you like massage?’
The woman made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. ‘I love it. But I can’t afford it very often since I gave up work.’
Sally smiled and picked up one of her bottles of essential oils. ‘Then you’re in luck. I’m part of the service. I’m just going to do your neck and shoulders to try and relieve the tension. If you get a contraction and you want me to stop, let me know.’
She smoothed her hands over the woman’s skin and Charlotte gave a moan of pleasure. ‘That feels amazing.’
Sally carried on massaging her, feeling the young woman gradually relax.
As each contraction came she helped her breathe properly and gradually Charlotte became calmer.
‘You’re coping really well,’ Sally said quietly. ‘Are you sure you want that epidural?’
Charlotte opened her eyes. ‘I don’t think I can cope without it.’
‘You are coping. You’re coping really well. And there are other things that we can try as well.’
Charlotte stirred and looked at her husband, ‘What do you think?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s up to you, love. Whatever you feel is best.’
‘You don’t have to decide now,’ Sally said, her hands still stroking the woman’s back. ‘Why don’t we just delay the anaesthetist for a bit and see how we get on?’
Charlotte gave a sigh and closed her eyes again. ‘All right.’
Sally spent the rest of the afternoon with Charlotte, keeping her as relaxed as possible, encouraging her and helping her breathings. As the contractions grew stronger, she used different aromatherapy oils and soothing music and helped Charlotte to breathe the gas and air.
‘I can’t believe she isn’t screaming for an epidural,’ Emma muttered, when Sally nipped outside for a quick break. ‘You’re a miracle worker.’
‘I’m not.’ Sally downed a glass of water quickly, reluctant to leave Charlotte for too long. ‘I think someone had just persuaded her that an epidural is the answer. I don’t think she’d even considered other options.’
She went back to Charlotte and stayed there until early evening when she nipped out to take a phone call from Oliver Hunter, Tom and Bryony’s brother, inviting her over that evening to meet his new fiancée.
‘It’s great that you’re home, Sally. The whole gang is back together at last. Come and have supper,’ he said easily, his tone as warm and friendly as ever. As if she hadn’t been away for seven years with no contact.
Sally gave a soft smile as she held the phone. Oliver always had been the more friendly of the two brothers. Open and straightforward, where Tom was complex and brooding.
Why couldn’t she have fallen for Oliver?
Life would have been so much more straightforward if she had.
‘So will you come?’
Sally’s
