gritted her teeth and secured her aircraft but the worry nagged at her all the way to town in her vehicle. Nagged her through the first half hour at work, right up until sixteen-year-old Lucy Bolton presented with the worst case of indigestion she’d had in her life.
Jabiru Township Clinic serviced the small town set in the baked earth at the edge of the station’s southern mountain ranges, a place that hid lush waterholes and settlements, plus far-flung aboriginal communities and out camps for the station. If the situation was dire, the doctor might be able to fly in once a week—unfortunately he’d been in yesterday.
Kate took one look at Lucy and put her to bed in the four bed ward. ‘Under those covers, young lady. No arguments. Where’s your mother?’
Lucy was a big-boned, hardworking girl whose mother leased one of the four pubs in town from Kate’s father. Usually happy-go-lucky and fun, Kate knew Lucy wasn’t one to complain. They bred them tough out here—had to—it was a long way to twentieth century medicine.
‘Mum’s tired.’ Lucy sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and kicked off her shoes. ‘There was a big outfit in town yesterday and I didn’t want to wake her.’ Lucy sighed as she rested her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. ‘The queer thing is, Kate,’ she whispered, ‘I haven’t eaten a thing ‘cause I feel so rotten, so how can I have indigestion?’
‘That’s not good.’ Kate stared down at the young girl and in a swirl of memories saw herself. ‘Poor you.’ She stroked her hair. She saw the slight puffiness around the eyes, the tiredness, that protective maternal hand that crept over her stomach. Her voice dropped. ‘Any chance you’re pregnant, Luce?’
Lucy’s eyes flew open and the sudden fear in the young girl’s face was enough confirmation. Kate sighed under her breath for the loss of youth coming Lucy’s way and a smidgen for the prick of envy. She wished she’d had the sense to ask for help like Lucy had.
Though in Kate’s day Mrs Schulz mightn’t have been as easy to approach as Kate or Sophie would be, even if Kate had been able to get all the way to the township from the home station.
She stroked Lucy’s shoulder. ‘Everything will be fine. I’ll just take your blood pressure, poppet. You don’t look well to me either.’
By the time Kate had done a full physical assessment the window shutters were banging against the walls outside and the howl of the wind was clearly audible. Kate barely noticed it as her concern grew for the young woman in front of her.
The flying doctor would have to come back and pick her up because there was no way she could manage Lucy here. And there was no way she wanted to because she knew what it could cost.
The pregnancy test proved positive but Kate hadn’t needed that; she could clearly hear the heartbeat from Lucy’s little passenger inside and she was more worried about the dangerously high levels of protein she found in the specimen of Lucy’s urine.
Lucy’s uterus could be felt midway between her belly button and the bottom of her sternum, which meant she’d been hiding her secret for about seven months. Around eight weeks too early to birth, if the baby was growing well. Eight weeks to go!
Kate closed her eyes against the memories that wanted to surface. Right when the trouble had hit her all those years ago. She shook the unwanted thoughts away, not least because she didn’t want to jinx Lucy.
Unless Kate was mistaken, Lucy’s blood pressure would ensure labour happened soon anyway, and Kate knew how fragile premmie babies were. Not standard procedure around here, three thousand kilometres from Perth.
That was, of course, if Lucy wasn’t in labour already and didn’t know it. ‘You’re not having any tummy pains are you, Luce?’
Lucy shook her head carefully. ‘Just this headache and rotten indigestion that’s killing me.’
It isn’t indigestion, Kate thought—it’s your body telling you something is very wrong. At least Lucy had listened. Kate poured a small tumbler of antacid, more for comfort, and gave it to her. ‘Sip on this, Luce. I need to talk to the doctor on the radio.’
Five minutes later Kate lifted the headphones from her ears and looked at them. No way could they do that. She settled the pads on her ears again and, strangely, the action had calmed her nerves. ‘Say again,’ she said, but there was little hope it would sound different this time.
‘Medication and transfer. If I were you I’d transfer her today. The storm’s a big one. The only way to transport is on the ground. If you decide to go you’ll have to take her out by road before it rains again and we’ll fly her from Derby. Or you could sit on her for another twenty-four hours with those symptoms and pray.’
Kate closed her eyes. ‘It’s six hundred kilometres of corrugations. What if she gets worse on the trip?’ Kate had another, more practical thought and her eyes widened. ‘What if she goes into labour?’
‘You could hope she doesn’t deliver.’ Mac Dawson had been obstetric registrar when Kate had been a newly graduated midwife at Perth General. Now an obstetrician in Perth, Mac respected her knowledge and she knew he cared about her predicament. But he couldn’t do anything about their options. There was nothing else he could suggest. ‘You should have stayed with me in Perth.’
Kate rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her. He’d asked her out a couple of times and Kate knew he’d have liked to have pursued their relationship if she’d been interested. She should have been but wasn’t. Mac’s pursuit had been a factor in her choice to work at one of the smaller hospitals in the suburbs of Perth after graduation.
Mac went on. ‘Her first baby, Kate. It’s your call but I’m sure you’d prefer early labour to an eclampsia out there while you wait for the storm to pass. The weather could set in for days and your strip will wash out. It’ll get tricky if she’s as unstable as you think and the roads are cut.’
Mac was right. She’d just needed to hear it twice. Road it was then. ‘Thanks for that, Mac. I’ll get back to you when I talk to her parents.’
‘Hear from you soon, then. Don’t forget to give me a ring when you get in so I can be sure you made it.’
Kate pulled the earphones from her head slowly and walked back to her patient via the drug cupboard. She reached for what she needed, along with the tray of intravenous cannulas, and set it down on the table beside the bed.
Lucy had fallen into an uneasy doze and every now and then her arm twitched in her sleep. Kate rechecked her blood pressure and the figures made her wince.
‘Lucy.’ Kate held the girl’s wrist as she counted her pulse. Lucy’s eyes flickered open. ‘I have to put a drip in your arm, poppet, and give you some drugs to bring your blood pressure down. Then I’ll ring your mum. The doctor says you have to go to Derby at least. Probably Perth.’
Lucy’s eyes opened wide and the apprehension in them made Kate squeeze her hand again. She looked so frightened. Kate had been frightened too.
‘It’s okay, I’ll come with you most of the way but you’ll have to stay there until after your baby is born.’
‘Mum doesn’t know I’m having a baby.’ They both looked down at Lucy’s difficult to distinguish stomach.
Kate remembered this all too well except she hadn’t had a mother. Just
