style="font-size:15px;"> ‘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 had fallen with winter’s dramatic suddenness and, judging by the spectacular red glow silhouetting the top of the craggy mountain range, it was going to be an icy one. Winter Festival participants would be happy with the fine day that tomorrow would undoubtedly bring. Apart from Erin, of course, who would no longer be participating in any freestyle snowboarding competition.
No summons had come from Maternity and Hugo was not surprised to find that Joan had managed a potentially difficult birth without his assistance. He arrived at the delivery suite again to find an extended and happy family crowding the room.
‘It’s a girl,’ Ben informed him solemnly. ‘I got to cut the cord.’
‘Congratulations—she’s gorgeous.’ Hugo’s admiring gaze gave no indication that he was assessing the new baby’s condition. ‘Have you chosen a name?’
‘Mannie!’ Henry shouted.
‘Melanie,’ Nicola corrected with a tired smile. ‘Do you want to give your sister a kiss, Harry?’
‘No.’ Henry wriggled in his grandmother’s arms. ‘Mannie’s dirty.’
‘She just hasn’t had her bath yet.’ Joan caught Hugo’s eye. ‘Apgar score at one minute was nine and it was ten at both five and ten minutes.’
Hugo smiled at Melanie’s proud parents. ‘Sounds like she’s fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll check her properly when you’ve had some more time for a cuddle.’
‘Nicky might need a couple of stitches but it’s only a small tear.’
‘Placenta intact?’
‘Appears to be. It’s over there if you want to check.’ Joan nodded towards a covered basin on the trolley. Hugo reached for a pair of gloves as Henry began drumming his small heels against his grandmother’s legs.
‘Wanna get down.’
If Hugo had been a little quicker he might have rescued the basin before Henry tripped and fell against the trolley, which tipped over with a resounding crash. The small boy howled with fright, his new sister took up the cry and the rest of the family looked alarmed. Joan’s smile was tight. She picked up the toddler and deposited him firmly onto the chair beside the bed.
‘Sit on this chair, Henry. And don’t move!’ She leaned down. ‘If you’re a good boy and stop crying right now, I’ll see if I can find you an ice block.’
Henry hiccuped as the sobs subsided. Hugo scooped up the mess on the floor, silently applauding Joan’s ability to deal with small children. It was disturbing to find he was now looking forward to leaving work so eagerly but there was just so much a man could take in one day. Grandma took Henry home, Hugo stitched up Nicola’s tear and Joan took the baby to the nursery to clean her up. Hugo joined her and pronounced the baby fit and healthy after a thorough paediatric check. He watched as Joan expertly applied a tiny disposable nappy and then swaddled the tiny girl in a soft cotton blanket.
‘You make that look so easy.’
‘It is easy.’ Joan tucked the baby into the crook of her elbow and smiled at the infant. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous?’
‘Absolutely.’ Hugo couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason for his sudden unease. Maybe it was because it was taking so long for him to escape.
‘Do you know, I’ve delivered more than a hundred babies since I came here?’
‘Really? I guess you would have. You’ve been here nearly three years and we get about ninety births per annum.’ He smiled admiringly. ‘You’re doing your fair share, that’s for sure. Are you still enjoying your job?’
‘Oh, I love it.’ Joan’s smile was rather wistful, however.
‘But?’
Joan hesitated. The glance she gave Hugo seemed almost shy. ‘I guess sometimes I wonder how many more of these bundles of joy I’ll deliver for other women before I get one of my own.’
Hugo’s unease deepened perceptibly. ‘You’re only thirty, Joan. There’s plenty of time…isn’t there?’
‘Of course.’ Joan had hesitated just long enough to let Hugh know that, as someone who cared, it was his duty to investigate this matter further. His sigh of relief as his pager sounded was fortunately not audible.
‘I’d better get that.’ The atmosphere became safely professional again. ‘I’ll catch you later when I check on Nicola again. Maybe we’ll have time for a coffee before you go home.’
‘You’d better get your skates on, then.’ Joan glanced up at the wall clock. ‘I’ve got my oil-painting class at eight o’clock and I can’t miss that again.’
Hugo didn’t really need to spend twenty minutes in the long-stay geriatric ward, making sure that Nancy was as comfortable as possible and that the night nursing staff would continue her close monitoring. Neither did he need to do such a thorough check on the four general medical patients they had at present. The trip to A and E to send Erin home with some pain relief and instructions on caring for her arm was not entirely necessary either, but each task he set himself seemed perfectly prudent. It certainly hadn’t been his intention to take so long getting back to Maternity.
‘Has Joan gone home, then?’ he asked the night nurse.
‘Twenty minutes ago. Did you want her for something?’
‘No.’ Hugo was disconcerted to find a hint of relief rather than disappointment lurking. He must be more tired than he’d thought. ‘How’s Nicola?’
‘Sound asleep—just like her daughter. Do you want to see them?’
‘I won’t disturb them. It’s high time I went home myself.’
The road curved around the edges of Lake Wakatipu and Hugo found himself nurturing his first real hope of winding down from a long and tiring day. The level of stress he was trying to escape was unusually high. He loved his job and his lifestyle and it was a rare occurrence to have a day as hectic as today’s had been. The busload of poisoned honeymooners had tipped the balance a little too close to chaos for comfort but the diverse range of illnesses and injuries that tourists to the area brought was part of what kept his life as a rural doctor so interesting.
And the tourists were flocking to Central Otago, and Queenstown in particular, in increasing numbers every year. More
