The Midwife's Longed-For Baby Read online

  He scooped up her bag and coat and went with them, still issuing instructions on autopilot. ‘Try and keep it smooth,’ he said, putting his free hand on the trolley to steady it. ‘She’ll need a head and neck CT and a full trauma series—’

  ‘It’s OK, you can leave her with us now,’ someone said, but he shook his head.

  ‘No way, she’s my wife,’ he said, for the sake of economy, and he followed them into Resus without waiting to be invited. The team closed around her, nobody he recognised, no one he could connect with, and then a door swished open and someone said, ‘OK, what have we got?’ and the voice from his youth was so familiar he could have cried with relief.

  ‘Sam,’ he said, his voice choked, and Sam stopped in his tracks and did a mild double-take.

  ‘Nick? What are you doing here?’

  ‘My wife was knocked down in the car park, right in front of me. Her name’s Olivia—Liv. She’s a midwife here.’

  ‘Liv’s your wife?’ Sam’s face creased into a frown and he bent over her so she could see his face without moving. ‘Hi, Liv, it’s Sam Ryder. Remember me? You delivered our baby last year.’

  ‘Of course I do. How is she?’ she mumbled, and Nick let out a sigh of relief because if she remembered that, it was a good sign—wasn’t it?

  ‘She’s fine. They’re both well.’ Sam turned to him. ‘What can you tell me about the accident? Speed, angle of collision, how far she travelled?’

  He made himself focus. ‘Um—low speed collision, probably less than ten miles an hour at the most? She stepped out backwards in front of a big SUV. She was hit from her left side and spun as she fell, but not far. Her head hit the kerb pretty hard. There’s a cut on the left side just behind the temple. GCS three initially, then fourteen after a brief loss of consciousness—’

  ‘How brief?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Not long, but long enough to be significant. A minute, maybe, at the most? I’d done a cursory check and called for help before she stirred.’

  ‘Did her head hit the bonnet before she fell?’

  ‘No. No, it really wasn’t that fast and the front wing just clipped her. She just—spun and fell, but really hard so she’ll need a CT and her head’s bleeding so she could have a fracture there where she hit the kerb, and she might be whiplashed and her spine needs checking thoroughly—’

  Sam lifted a hand. ‘OK, we’re on it. Can you give us her details so we can be getting her notes up? And then maybe you need to go and get a coffee while we check her over.’

  ‘I can’t leave her—’

  ‘Yes, you can. Don’t worry, we’ll keep you updated. Make sure we’ve got your number.’

  Sam turned back to Liv, taking her hand in his, focusing intently on his patient as Nick stood numbly and watched them, hardly daring to breathe.

  ‘OK, Liv, can you tell me where it hurts?’ Sam asked softly.

  ‘Everywhere.’

  ‘Well, that’s not very useful,’ he said with a grin. ‘Can you try and be a little more specific?’

  ‘My head?’

  ‘Anywhere else?’ He carried on chattily assessing her while Nick watched tensely from the sidelines, then he straightened.

  ‘OK. That’s all good. Can we get some IV paracetamol on board, please, and get a full trauma screen to rule out any fractures and then we’ll send you down for a head and neck CT, Liv, OK? And can we run a FAST scan, please, while we’re waiting?’

  Nick felt himself relax a fraction. Despite his light-hearted banter, Sam was looking after her properly, and all the time the nurses had been working, linking her to a monitor, getting IV access ready, cutting her clothes away so Sam could see her injuries.

  He could see them, too, and the bruises on her smooth, pale skin made him wince. She could so easily have been killed—

  ‘Mr Jarvis?’

  He turned his head, finally becoming aware of the nurse who’d laid a hand on his arm and was shaking it gently to get his attention.

  ‘If you could give me her details that would be very helpful.’

  ‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ He forced himself to focus, rattled off her name, date of birth, address, GP—

  ‘OK, I’ve got her. You’re her next of kin?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said firmly, although he didn’t know if that was still true, strictly speaking, because the ex-ness made that all a little unclear...

  ‘Same mobile phone number?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is that her stuff? Would you like me to look after it?’

  He looked down and saw the coat and bag, clutched in his hand like a lifeline. He’d forgotten all about them. ‘Yeah, thanks.’ He handed them over just as the door behind him opened again and swished shut, and he turned his head and met Ben Walker’s worried eyes.

  ‘What’s going on? I heard Liv had been run over.’

  ‘Not run over,’ he said, his voice suddenly hollow. ‘She was knocked down. She’s got a head injury.’

  Ben frowned, crossed over to the bed and exchanged a few words with Sam, then leant over her. ‘Hi, Liv. Anything I can do?’

  She mumbled something, and Ben nodded and straightened up, squeezing her hand as he left her side.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him.’

  He turned to the nurse who was printing up Liv’s labels for the notes. ‘Page me if you need us,’ he said, and hooking his arm around Nick’s shoulders, the bluff Yorkshireman gently but firmly led him away.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BEN STEERED HIM through the department and out of the doors on the park side of the building.

  The cold March air hit him, and he hauled in a breath and gagged.

  ‘I feel sick,’ he said, and doubled over, retching emptily.

  He felt Ben’s hand on his back. ‘Come on. We’ll find a bench where you can sit down and I’ll go and get us a drink.’

  He nodded and straightened up, following Ben obediently across the grass on legs that weren’t quite steady. ‘I thought she was dead, Ben. She was about to step out in front of this massive SUV, right in front of my eyes, and I tried to hold her but she pulled away and fell backwards and it smacked into her and then she was lying there, so still, her feet just inches from the wheels—’

  ‘Nick, she’s alive and conscious and talking, and Sam will be doing everything he can to make sure she stays that way. Now sit down before you fall down.’

  They’d reached a bench, and he didn’t need telling twice. He dropped onto it and propped his elbows on his knees, trying to slow his breathing and regain control of his emotions. After a few seconds he straightened up and glanced across at Ben, who was sitting beside him watching him thoughtfully.

  ‘Better?’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah. Sorry.’

  The hand on his shoulder was warm and firm and comforting. ‘Don’t be. You’re in shock, and I’d be just the same if it was Daisy or one of the kids. How do you take your tea?’

  ‘Coffee, for a start, black, no sugar—and if you put a ton of sugar in it, I’ll pour it on the grass, so don’t even try.’

  Ben grunted and got to his feet without bothering to comment. ‘Have you eaten today?’

  ‘Not since seven. I didn’t manage to get lunch.’

  Too busy trashing what was left of his relationship with Liv...

  ‘Right. I’ll get you something to eat, as well. Stay here.’

  He didn’t think he had a choice. He was seriously unsure his legs would hold him if he tried to get up, and he swallowed on another wave of nausea.

  Shock, he realised numbly. He was in shock, as Ben had said, but Liv was alive, Sam was looking after her and if he was as good a doctor as he was a sailor, she was in safe hands.

  All he could do was wait.

>   * * *

  So this is what it’s like in a scanner, she thought, but she felt curiously detached, as if it wasn’t really happening to her.

  It didn’t take long, and then she was wheeled back to the ED, lying on her back staring at the ceiling as it whizzed past and feeling disorientated. She knew the route well, but she’d never seen it from this angle. Weird.

  They went through several sets of doors, and came to rest at last in Resus. She was glad they’d stopped. Her head was spinning and even the slight jiggle of the trolley along the smooth corridors had made it hurt more.

  ‘OK?’ Sam asked, smiling down at her, and she tried to smile back but it felt like a pretty poor effort and she just wanted Nick.

  ‘I think so. My head aches a bit.’

  ‘It will. You’ve had quite a bump, Liv, but nothing’s broken and there’s no evidence of a brain injury. You might be pretty sore for a while, though, but your spine’s OK and so’s your pelvis, so we can get rid of all this stuff and someone’ll come and clean you up a bit and then I’ll get you moved out of Resus.’

  ‘What happened to my clothes? I don’t remember anyone taking them off.’

  ‘We cut them off you,’ he said, frowning slightly. ‘When you were brought in.’

  ‘Oh.’ She thought hard, but came up with nothing. ‘I didn’t register that. I suppose you had to. Where’s Nick?’

  ‘I don’t know, but when I find him he’s going to ask me questions and I gather from Ben that you’re not together any more, so do I have your permission to talk to him about your results, or would you rather I didn’t?’

  Her results? ‘Yes—yes, of course. If you don’t tell him he’ll only ask me anyway so you might as well.’

  Sam chuckled. ‘That sounds like him. OK, I’ll go and find him while we get you sorted. He won’t be far away.’

  * * *

  He was in the relatives’ room where Ben had left him when Sam came in. He tried to get up, but Sam put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently back down. It wasn’t hard. His legs felt like jelly and he thought he was going to be sick again.

  He opened his mouth to ask how she was, but he didn’t need to, Sam got there before him.

  ‘She’s OK, Nick. She’s doing all right.’

  He let his breath out in a rush and crushed the sudden urge to cry. ‘No brain injury?’

  Sam sat down beside him and shook his head.

  ‘No. Not as far as we can see but we’ll watch that. Her CT was clear, her X-rays didn’t reveal any fractures, but she’s got a small cut on her scalp which I’m going to glue, and she’s going to have some colourful bruises. There’s the odd superficial graze from contact with the ground, of course, and she’s going to be sore, but all in all she’s got away with it pretty lightly. Assuming there’s no silent head injury waiting to show itself, she should be fine in a day or so but she might be a bit concussed. She’s got a headache, so I want to keep an eye on that, but it’s probably a bit of whiplash.’

  He nodded, swallowing. ‘Can I see her now?’

  ‘In a minute. I’ll get someone to take you to her as soon as she’s ready. I’m going to keep her on fifteen-minute obs for a while, and I’m probably going to admit her overnight, just in case. She didn’t seem to remember we’d cut her clothes off, but that might just be shock. She was still in the neck brace so she might not even have realised what we were doing, but I don’t want to make assumptions and miss anything.’

  Nick tried to smile. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you. I’ll be right there by her side and I’ll be watching her like a hawk.’

  ‘Good. I’ll let you know when she’s ready. Oh, and the police want to talk to you about the accident. I’ll get them to come and see you now. Don’t move.’

  * * *

  It seemed to take an age before the police were finished with him, but finally he was able to go and see Liv. She was in a bed in the small observation ward, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks, and she looked so frail and vulnerable that his heart wrenched. It could so easily have been so much worse. It might yet be...

  The chair creaked as he sat down, and her lids fluttered open and her head turned towards him.

  ‘Nick?’

  He stood up and moved to her side, gripping the cot sides on the edge of the bed as he stared down at her ashen face. A bruise was coming out on her cheekbone, blue against the pale skin, and he swallowed hard. ‘Yes, it’s me, Liv. Is that OK, or do you want me to leave?’

  ‘No, stay with me, please?’ Her hand fluttered, and he reached down and slipped his fingers through hers and they curled around his and clung.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, aware of how gruff his voice sounded but unable to do anything about it.

  She shrugged slightly, and winced. ‘Sore?’ she said, sounding weak and tired and nothing like his Liv. ‘I’ve got a banging headache and everything’s feeling a bit tender. Sam said I was lucky not to break anything, but it doesn’t feel lucky from where I’m lying.’

  ‘It’s lucky,’ he said fervently. ‘Trust me, it’s lucky. I watched that car hit you, and for a minute there—well, whatever. If I hadn’t followed you—’

  ‘Nick, it wasn’t your fault I stepped out in front of it.’

  ‘Don’t, Liv. I don’t want to think about it. It’s all I can see as it is, and it was my fault, I should have listened to you and let you go.’ He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a long, lingering kiss to the back of her fingers. ‘Is there anything I can do for you, anything I can get you?’

  ‘A taxi?’ she joked weakly. ‘Not that I can go anywhere. They cut my clothes off.’

  He frowned. ‘They had to, Liv. They had no idea what injuries you had, and anyway, hitting the tarmac won’t have done them any good. And as for the taxi, you’re going nowhere,’ he said firmly. ‘Sam’s talking about admitting you overnight for observation and I think it’s a good idea.’

  ‘No-o. I don’t want to stay in,’ she moaned softly. ‘It’s so noisy here. I just want my own bed.’

  ‘OK. Maybe later. I’ll talk to Sam,’ he murmured to stall her, although he knew darned well what Sam would say, and so, apparently, did she.

  ‘My parents used to do that,’ she said, her voice tailing off. ‘I’ll ask your father. I’ll see what your mother says. All stalling tactics. The answer never did change...’

  Her lids drifted down, her lashes coming to rest against her bleached skin, and as her hand relaxed he laid it down gently, let his breath out on a slow, silent huff and lowered himself onto the chair again, never taking his eyes off her.

  * * *

  She’d get better a lot quicker, Liv thought, if they’d only leave her alone to sleep, but she knew why they were doing it, and it was reassuring in a mildly irritating way.

  The nurses came intermittently to do her obs, and after a while Nick told them not to bother, he’d do them. It meant he had to touch her, to feel the pulse beating in her wrist, to check her pupils with a pen light, and although he was doing exactly what the nurses had, somehow his touch was different.

  Not quite so clinical as theirs, lingering a little longer than was strictly necessary, and his voice was quiet and soothing but also filled with an emotion that he either didn’t or couldn’t disguise. And when she had to stare into his eyes so he could test her pupil reflexes, there was a tenderness there that made her want to cry.

  A nurse brought him a cup of tea at one point, and a couple of times Sam popped his head round the curtain, glanced at her chart and exchanged a few words with them, asked her questions, made her squeeze his hands, push against him, wiggle her toes, shone a light in her eyes to check her pupil reflexes and accommodation, but all of it with an appropriate clinical detachment which just made Nick’s touch all the more obviously different.

 
It was weird having him there with her. He was so gentle, so quiet and unobtrusive, and yet even when he was sitting silently beside her, she was aware of him with every battered cell in her body. She’d been so desperate to get away from him that she’d nearly died, and now that seemed ridiculous because she actually wanted him there, crazy though it was.

  Because she still loved him, despite the lie? Maybe even because of it—because of the fact that he hadn’t, after all, slept with Suzanne.

  Why not? She wouldn’t have blamed him—or Suze, come to that. She was a beautiful woman, and he was a beautiful man. Why wouldn’t they want each other? It wasn’t as if it would have been the first time—and it wasn’t as if things had been exactly peachy in the months leading up to it, and that was her own fault as much as his.

  She’d spent the last year blaming herself for shutting him out and driving him to it, but he’d shut her out, too, and their relationship had been crumbling for months before it had reached crisis point.

  He was right, they did need to talk, but not now, and not here, in probably the busiest department of the hospital. Now, with her head hurting and every part of her starting to ache, all she wanted was to go home.

  Sam, though, had other ideas. Before he’d discuss it he wanted a urine sample to check for blood, presumably to see if she’d sustained kidney damage.

  ‘I’ll get a bedpan,’ Nick said, but she was ready for that and dismissed it instantly.

  ‘No way. Or a commode. The loo—as in proper plumbing, running water, and a door that shuts.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Good. Don’t bother,’ she said, trying to sound firm and failing miserably. ‘Seriously, Nick, if you won’t let me walk, then get me a wheelchair, and if you won’t do that then I’ll crawl on my hands and knees. Please don’t make me, because I will do it.’ Her voice cracked, and she bit her lips and waited.