The Midwife's Child. Sarah Morgan

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The Midwife's Child - Sarah Morgan Mills & Boon Medical

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that were delivered at her door?

      First the heating, then the roof and now the car. What next?

      Breathless and soaked, she shouldered her way through the revolving doors of the maternity unit, and the sudden warmth of the foyer made her pause and catch her breath.

      Please, please, let the day improve, she pleaded to no one in particular as she took the lift to the third floor and attempted a first-aid job on her hair which fell in a damp, tangled mass halfway down her back. Twisting it firmly, she rummaged in her pocket for some pins and fastened it securely in a knot at the back of her head, hoping that it would hold until lunchtime.

      In the sanctuary of the staffroom, she stripped off her wet clothes and changed into the comfortable blue cotton trousers and tunic top that everyone wore on the labour ward.

      ‘I’m really, really sorry, folks…’ Flustered and out of breath, she paused by the door of the office where everyone from the early shift was gathered. ‘I had some problems.’

      ‘You don’t need to explain.’ Sister Wilson’s voice was full of humour and sympathy. ‘We saw you getting off the bus and sprinting across the car park. I gather that joke of a contraption that you call a car failed you again.’

      Brooke nodded and bit her lip. ‘It’s the rain, I think. It hates rain—’

      ‘And cold and heat,’ one of the midwives interrupted with a laugh. ‘Face it, Brooke, it’s on its last legs. You’d better ask Father Christmas for another one.’

      It was only March and most of her problems were way beyond the touch of Father Christmas, Brooke thought gloomily, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

      ‘I’ll get an earlier bus tomorrow.’ Dropping into a vacant chair, she glanced at the board to see how busy they were and her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘We’re full again?’

      ‘To the point of bursting.’ Gill Wilson stood up, suddenly businesslike. ‘And Antenatal have got two in early labour as well so we’re in for a good day. Brooke, I’ve allocated Paula the lady in Room 2, but as she’s still a student she obviously can’t take full responsibility so I’d like you to supervise. The lady’s name is Alison Neal and she’s a thirty-year-old primip and very anxious. Perhaps you should have five minutes with her on your own before Paula joins you. You’re normally very good with panickers.’

      ‘Of course.’ A primip—an abbreviation for primigravida, someone having their first baby—often needed more support and reassurance than a woman who’d been through it all before, and was usually in labour for much longer.

      ‘Suzie…’ Gill Wilson turned to another midwife. ‘Can you run between 4 and 5 for me and supervise the students? Diane can sort out the admissions and Helen can take the lady in room one. Oh, and by the way, things are looking up here. The new consultant started yesterday and the new senior reg starts in a few weeks so at least the medical staff won’t be so stretched.’

      ‘What’s the consultant like?’ Brooke draped her stethoscope round her neck and straightened her tunic.

      ‘First class.’ Gill Wilson nodded with satisfaction. ‘We’re very lucky to have him.’

      One of the midwives gave a sigh. ‘Just tell us he isn’t a meddler. We don’t need another consultant like—’

      ‘Now, now,’ Gill interrupted briskly, a faint frown touching her forehead. ‘No need to name names. He’s left and it’s history and, no, Jed Matthews isn’t at all like that. He’s an incredibly talented obstetrician who thinks that women should do it by themselves whenever they can. I dare say you’ll meet him later but I think he’ll support our philosophy to the hilt.’

      ‘Well, that’s one bit of good news, then.’ Brooke stood up and tucked her pen and notebook into her pocket, falling into step beside her friend Suzie as they walked down the corridor.

      Suzie gave her a sympathetic look. ‘You OK?’

      ‘Are you joking?’ Brooke rolled her eyes. ‘When was my life ever OK?’

      ‘What’s happening about the roof?’

      ‘I’ve got a man coming to see it on Saturday but at the moment I’m just using a bucket and lots of hope.’

      Suzie pulled a face and looked worried. ‘This rain can’t last for ever.’

      ‘This is the Lake District so it can and, knowing my luck, it probably will,’ Brooke said dryly as they paused outside the door of Room 2. ‘But thanks for asking.’

      Suzie nodded and hesitated. ‘Look, if you need a loan…’

      ‘No, thanks.’ Brooke stiffened and her small chin lifted slightly. ‘I’m fine.’

      ‘Brooke, for goodness’ sake!’ Suzie glanced along the corridor and lowered her voice ‘You’re not fine at all and you know it! You’re struggling like mad and it’s time you let someone help you.’

      ‘I don’t need help.’ Brooke’s tone was frosty and Suzie looked exasperated.

      ‘You’re so stubborn, do you know that? How will you pay for the roof?’

      Brooke shrugged. ‘That’s my problem.’ One of the many. ‘I’ll do some agency work or something.’

      ‘Brooke—’

      ‘I’ll handle it.’ Brooke’s eyes glinted with determination and, without waiting for a reply, she shouldered her way into Room 2 and beamed at the woman sitting on the bed.

      ‘Hello, Mrs Neal. I’m Brooke Daniels, one of the midwives on the unit.’ She took one look at the wide, frightened eyes of the young woman in front of her and forced her own problems to the back of her mind, knowing that she had some serious work to do.

      ‘Could you call me Alison?’ The woman looked terrified. ‘It seems more…personal somehow. I hate anything medical.’

      ‘Try not to think of this as medical,’ Brooke advised gently. ‘Having a baby is perfectly natural and in this unit our policy is to intervene as little as possible.’

      ‘Is that why this room doesn’t look a bit like a hospital room?’ Alison glanced round at the pretty curtains and bedspread and the comfortable sofa and beanbags. ‘It’s more like being at home.’

      ‘Actually, it’s better than home,’ her husband pointed out dryly. ‘At home we haven’t got a king-size bed and a rocking chair.’

      Brooke smiled. ‘The rooms are nice, aren’t they? The whole idea was to make people feel as though they were in the comfort of their own homes but with the advantages of hospital technology on hand if needed.’

      Alison was still gripping her husband’s hand tightly. ‘Will you be with me all day?’

      ‘One of our student midwives, Paula, will be with you the whole time,’ Brooke told her. ‘I’ll be popping in and out all day and I’ll definitely be here when you deliver.’

      ‘I can’t bear to think about that bit.’ Alison managed a weak smile and bit her lip. ‘I’m

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