finally, the baby’s head emerged.
‘The baby’s not crying,’ Mr Harris said, looking panicky.
And the baby was blue. At a first glance, Ruby would give him an Apgar score of four—very low.
‘It’s fine,’ Ellis reassured Mr Harris. ‘I know right now this looks very scary, but this is totally normal for a breech birth. Do you want to cut the umbilical cord, and then we can get this little one warmed up a bit and ready for a cuddle?’
Thankfully it was enough to distract Mr Harris; Ruby swiftly clamped the cord and Ellis gave the scissors to Mr Harris to cut the cord while Ruby wrapped the baby in a warm towel.
Ruby then took the baby over to the warming tray for warm air to be blown on him.
‘Do you want me to sort out the baby while you deliver the placenta?’ Ellis asked.
She smiled at him. ‘Yes, please.’
By the time she’d delivered the placenta, she was relieved to hear plenty of crying coming from Baby Harris, and she heard Ellis say, ‘I’m pleased to say your little boy’s pinked up very nicely indeed. He’s got an Apgar score of nine.’
Ruby knew that last bit was aimed for her, and she felt the strain between her shoulders disappear. Everything was fine. And, better still, Ellis also hadn’t mentioned anything about hip dysplasia, which could sometimes be a problem with breech babies.
Finally, Baby Harris was in his mum’s arms, skin to skin, and took all of three sucks for his first feed before falling asleep.
Ruby examined Mrs Harris. ‘I’m pleased to say that you don’t need any stitches,’ she said. ‘You did absolutely brilliantly. Congratulations to both of you.’
‘We could never have done it without you,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘I was so scared we’d have to just do what the doctor said.’
Ruby smiled. ‘They’re all pretty good here, actually.’ She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. ‘Though Ellis Webster is a bit special. But don’t tell him I said that, or his head will swell so much that he won’t be able to walk through the door for a week.’
Mrs Harris laughed.
‘Let’s get you settled down in the ward,’ Ruby said, ‘and you can get to know your baby.’ She stroked the baby’s cheek. ‘He’s beautiful.’
‘Do you have children?’ Mrs Harris asked.
‘No.’ She and Tom had thought very seriously about it, but then Tom had been diagnosed with leukaemia and it had never been the right time to discuss it again after that. ‘Maybe one day,’ she said wistfully.
And how odd that a picture flashed into her head. Of herself, tired yet glowing with happiness and holding a baby. And of Ellis sitting next to her, holding her hand and stroking the baby’s head.
Ridiculous. And totally inappropriate.
Ellis was her friend, and only her friend. And she had a date lined up on Saturday night with a completely different man, the new registrar on her best friend’s ward. She really shouldn’t be thinking about that kind of thing.
Ellis didn’t see Ruby over the weekend. He wanted to call her, but he knew she was going on a date with a colleague of Tina’s. So he needed to back off. To give her a chance to get to know the guy and enjoy dating again.
Even though what he really wanted to do was to scoop her over his shoulder and carry her off to his lair.
Ridiculous. He knew that Ruby saw him only as a friend. So he was going to have to ignore this stupid antsy feeling. She deserved to feel happy again. It was just a pity it meant she’d find that happiness with another man rather than with him.
So on Monday lunchtime, he summoned his brightest smile when he saw her. ‘Want to go grab a sandwich?’
‘That’d be nice.’
He waited until they’d sat down in the canteen before he asked, ‘So how was your date?’
‘Fine.’
Her smile was a little too bright. ‘But?’ he asked.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘He was a nice guy, but I don’t think he was ready to date again yet.’
Was that Ruby’s way of saying that she’d just discovered she wasn’t ready to date again yet, too?
He battened down the hopes as she continued, ‘I don’t think he’s quite over his divorce yet.’
‘Ah. Baggage.’
She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I guess we all have baggage when we get to this age.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Look at you,’ she said softly.
Oh, no. He really didn’t want to discuss that. He didn’t like talking about his feelings. And he definitely didn’t want to talk about his baggage. Ruby knew he was divorced, but he hadn’t told her the whole messy story.
‘Tom always said you’d never settle because you were trying to save people, to make up for the way they couldn’t save your sister.’
‘I guess that’s part of it,’ he said. ‘Though I always wanted to be a doctor, even when Sally was still alive.’ After Sally’s death, he’d vowed to work abroad rather than stay in an English hospital, and it had caused a rift with his brothers; they couldn’t understand why he risked himself the way he did, and they’d told him they didn’t want to lose him the way they’d lost Sally. But, however much he’d tried to talk them round, he hadn’t been able to make them see that he wanted to save all the other potential Sallys, and to do that it meant working abroad. ‘And it’s not why I became an obstetrician, either. I always planned to work in emergency medicine, like Tom. But then I did a rotation on the maternity ward and I fell in love with it—that special moment where you witness the miracle of a brand new life.’
‘That’s why I became a midwife, too,’ she said softly. ‘It never, ever gets old.’
‘And it’s even better in a world where things are sticky and you really feel that you need a miracle to happen and make things better. That first little cry…’ Every time, it made him misty-eyed and glad to be alive, all at the same time.
‘You still have itchy feet, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘I know you’re going back to the medical aid charity in a couple of months.’
‘It’s been arranged for a really long time,’ Ellis said. And he did want to go back. The trouble was, he also wanted to stay in London. But he wasn’t sure if he could—not if Ruby started dating someone else and it got serious. He’d promised Tom that he’d be there for Ruby, and he’d keep his promise; but he wasn’t sure that his promise could stretch to watching her date another man and being happy about it. ‘Anyway, we weren’t talking about me,’ he said, trying very hard to wriggle out of the subject. ‘We were talking about your date.’
‘I guess it was a case of nice guy, wrong time,’ she said with a shrug.
