HER MIRACLE TWINS (11 page)

As she turned and headed for the medics’ dining room she suddenly realised that Michel had been quite right. She had been feeling particularly tired this morning and there was a dragging feeling in the lower regions of her abdomen. She made a detour to the women’s toilets.

Reaching for the push button to flush the loo, she looked in horror at the tell-tale signs of blood in the lavatory bowl. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry that rose in her throat as she felt blood trickling down between her legs.

‘No, no! Not again!’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S
HE
LAY
VERY
still in the small room off the obstetrics prenatal ward. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute she’d felt reasonably OK and the next she’d found she was being loaded onto a trolley and brought up here to Obstetrics.

Michel was sitting beside her, anxious for the obstetrics consultant to arrive.

‘Pierre’s still in Theatre,’ he told her, relaying the message he’d just received.

Genevieve came to ask how she was feeling now that she’d been settled in a bed. She came over and checked the large pad between Chantal’s legs.

‘Mmm,’ was all she said as she changed it.

Michel had left the room to give them some privacy.

‘Do you think the bleeding is slowing down, Genevieve?’

‘It will take a while before we can assess what’s happening, Chantal. Don’t get out of bed. Lie as still as you can. Pierre Marchand will be here as soon as he can get away from Theatre.’

Minutes later he arrived, still in his theatre greens.

Chantal stared up at him, anxious to hear his assessment of her condition. Her heart was beating more rapidly than it should as she remained convinced it was happening to her again. This was exactly like the last time, except she’d been totally alone when she’d miscarried last September. This time she had her baby’s father anxiously hovering at the back of the room.

She glanced across and gave him a smile of reassurance, even though she didn’t feel there was much hope. In the half-hour since the nurse in the ladies room who’d heard her scream had alerted Michel it had become obvious that nobody on the medical staff had been unaware of their unconventional relationship. But the fact that she was pregnant, or possibly that she had been pregnant, added another dimension to their supposedly secret liaison.

She tried to relax as Pierre examined her. He straightened up, his expression enigmatic.

‘We’ll need a scan, Sister.’ He looked down at Chantal. ‘I’ll have you taken down to the treatment room as soon as possible, Chantal. If things look OK, we’ll treat you here with complete bed rest for a few days until things settle down again. If the pregnancy isn’t viable...’

Pierre paused, not wanting to upset her any more than she appeared to be. He’d been briefed that his patient had miscarried with her first pregnancy last September.

‘It’s OK, Pierre,’ Chantal said quietly. ‘I’m prepared for the worst-case scenario. If the pregnancy isn’t viable you would perform a D and C, I presume?’

The obstetrician nodded. ‘Yes, but let’s stay positive until we find out what’s happening, Chantal.’

Michel moved forward and took hold of Chantal’s hand. He may be the father of these babies but he felt as if he was getting in the way of the expert Obstetrics team.

She clung to Michel’s hand.

‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she whispered.

He found his spirits lifting. She wanted him; she needed him. He was already thinking of the worst-case scenario. If that happened, would she stay with him so they could try again? His affection for her was growing stronger every day. In fact, he couldn’t imagine life without her now.

* * *

Michel had a quick word with Pierre before leaving the room. Out in the corridor he switched on his mobile and punched in Sebastian’s private number at the Paris clinic.

‘I’ll come over,’ Sebastian said tersely as soon as Michel had given him the stark facts.

Michel tried to convince him that Chantal was in good hands. Pierre Marchand was an excellent obstetrician, but Sebastian insisted that Chantal was his patient and had also been a personal friend of his family for many years. He would be with them towards the end of the afternoon so that he could liaise with Pierre, their Obstetrician. It was important that if Chantal was having a miscarriage she have expert attention to determine the cause of two miscarriages. This would ensure that her next pregnancy had more of a chance of being successful.

* * *

‘One baby here,’ Pierre pointed out as Chantal and Michel gazed at the screen.

‘Another one hiding behind it, here,’ Michel said, his voice choking with emotion and relief. His babies were still alive, but would they stay so till full term? What was the significance of this bleeding?

‘Complete rest is needed, Chantal.’

Pierre spoke with the authority of a consultant who’d had to stress this to patients before. He turned to look at Michel. ‘We must ensure that Chantal rests completely. The next few days are crucial. She mustn’t get out of bed. All we can do is wait to see if the bleeding stops. Continue with the glucose saline infusion until the condition stabilises. Keep me informed please.’

Michel explained that Chantal’s obstetrician was coming over from Paris to liaise with him. Pierre had no quarrel with that.

‘Two heads are better than one. Only the best for our important patient.’

* * *

Chantal was delighted when Sebastian walked into her room. She was even more pleased to see that he was accompanied by Susanne. They had all been friends for many years.

Sebastian asked if he could see their obstetrician for a full report as soon as possible.

Michel, who’d been with Chantal all afternoon, put a call through to Pierre, who arrived shortly afterwards. The two obstetricians agreed that complete rest was necessary until Chantal was out of danger. The cause of the loss of blood hadn’t been ascertained yet.

‘Were you worrying about something, Chantal?’ Sebastian asked, gently.

He glanced across at his wife as he waited for his patient’s reply. They had their own theory about this unconventional relationship that Chantal was involved in. They’d discussed it at length on the way over from Paris.

Chantal hesitated. ‘Nothing in particular,’ she said carefully, aware that now she was even more the centre of attention in this small, crowded room. Instinctively she knew what Sebastian and Susanne were thinking. They’d brought up four children in a conventional, loving marriage. She’d known at her first professional appointment in Paris that Sebastian would be concerned about the unconventional situation between Michel and herself.

‘Nothing at all?’ Sebastian prompted gently.

She steeled herself and wouldn’t be drawn as she told herself this relationship would work. They would make it work.

She shook her head. ‘Michel and I have got everything in place ready for our twins. There’s even a well-equipped nursery in Michel’s house. When I go back to work after out babies are born we’re going to employ a trained nurse to take care of them when we’re both on duty at the same time.’

Susanne moved forward from the back of the room where she’d been watching quietly.

‘Don’t go back to work too early, my dear. I spent time at home after the birth of all four of our babies. It’s a precious time to bond with them.’

Pierre seemed impatient now. ‘With respect,
Madame
, childcare isn’t under discussion now. Especially when we cannot be sure that these babies will go to full term. We have to be realistic. Chantal has assured us she’s not having to worry about anything. Michel will be a devoted father. Sebastian and I both agree that at the moment we have to ensure complete rest for our patient.’

Susanne cleared her throat. ‘Have you contacted your mother, Chantal?’

‘She’s still on holiday on the coast near Bordeaux. I didn’t want to worry her.’

‘How about your cousin who lives inland from here?’

‘I was planning to contact Julia when we knew for certain whether the pregnancy is still viable.’

‘The pregnancy will have more of a chance of being viable if we allow our patient to rest now,’ Pierre suggested dryly. ‘Let’s keep in touch, Sebastian, but for the moment I think we should give Chantal the chance to rest.’

* * *

In the middle of the night Chantal woke up, initially confused about where she was. She felt somehow different. There was a small light in the corner of the room and a nurse was sitting in an armchair, reading. She stood up and came across the room.

‘How are you feeling, Chantal?’

‘I think I’m OK.’

‘I’ll check your pad while you’re awake. I last checked two hours ago.’ The nurse smiled. ‘It’s dry, not a sign of blood. Excellent!’

Chantal felt a huge sense of relief. ‘I’d love to think my babies are safe now but I know it’s early days.’

The nurse nodded. ‘Dr Marchand usually puts his patients on at least two weeks complete rest when they’ve got a threatened miscarriage, especially when they’ve already suffered one before.’

‘Yes, but during my last miscarriage I was in a completely different situation,’ she said quietly, almost to herself. ‘My obstetrician last September told me that the unpleasant experience I’d been through had triggered my miscarriage.

The nurse was adjusting the speed of the glucose saline infusion ‘That does happen,’ she agreed quietly. ‘Now, please try not to think about it. Try to sleep again. Does my light disturb you?’

‘No. It’s comforting to know I’m not alone. Last time I was.’

She wouldn’t think about the past. Only positive thoughts from now on. She was going to be fine. Her babies would survive.

She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep so she didn’t have to talk any more. It would soon be morning. She’d ring Julia, check on how her cousin’s pregnancy was going along. She hadn’t seen her for a few weeks.

She found herself wondering how Michel was. She’d had to persuade him that it wasn’t necessary for him to miss his sleep. He’d agreed to leave her only when he’d made her promise to contact him if there was any change. He wasn’t going home, though. He would be in his usual room in the medics quarters, close at hand if she needed him.

* * *

The sun was stealing over the windowsill when she next woke up. She’d made it through the night. The nurse checked her pad for signs of blood. Still dry but she must remain in bed.

It was mid-morning before she rang Julia. Michel had been in to see her and had gone away to organise the staff in the emergency department. He would be back shortly when he was satisfied they could manage without him.

Pierre had been in to see her and had been pleased with the news that the bleeding had stopped. He was going to liaise with Sebastian over the phone and keep him in the picture.

Julia’s line was busy. She left a message. Minutes later her cousin rang back and they chatted happily. Chantal relaxed against her pillows. It was always good to talk to her cousin. They immediately struck up the familiar rapport that existed between them and became the two excitable young girls they’d been in the past.

‘How are you, Julia? I Haven’t seen you for weeks.’

‘I’m as big as a house! I’m due at the end of the month. Can’t wait to be delivered. Bernard and I don’t get out much when he’s not lecturing his students or supervising their efforts in the operating theatre. And he’s still got patients to see when he’s not teaching.

‘He’s so nervous about me being pregnant. Honestly, you wouldn’t think he was a doctor. If this was how he treated his patients they’d all complain. Talk about wrapping me in cotton wool!’

Chantal was giggling already at her cousin’s description of Bernard as an anxious father. He always seemed such a confident man when she saw him in hospital but, then, so did Michel.

‘Julia, I know exactly what you mean.’

‘Oh, you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, Chantal. You’ve absolutely no idea...or have you?’

Julia stopped in mid-flow. ‘Chantal, is there something you haven’t told me? What did you mean just now?’

‘I was going to tell you the next time we met up but I’ve been so busy and...’

‘You’re not...you’re not...?

‘I am! Yes, I’m pregnant.’

There was a whoop of excitement at the other end. Chantal held her mobile at arm’s length till the deafening cries died down.

‘I’m glad you’re pleased, Julia.’

‘Pleased? I’ve over the moon for you. I assume it’s Michel’s.’

‘How did you guess?’

‘Oh, come on, it’s obvious. You two were made for each other!’

‘Well, it’s not quite like that. It’s a bit unconventional,’ she said cautiously. ‘You see, we only got together because we both wanted a baby and even then... Oh , I’ll explain what happened and what was meant to happen when I see you. Too complicated to tell you over the phone so don’t ask. Actually, it’s twins.’

‘Wonderful, even better! Can’t wait to hear the details when we get together. Our twin mothers will be pleased you’re keeping up the family tradition. Have you told your mother yet?’

‘Hold on a minute, Julia. I haven’t dared to tell her. I’m actually in the obstetrics ward under the care of Pierre Marchand. I had some bleeding so I’m confined to bed rest. I’ve had a scan and the babies are fine but we’re not out of the woods yet.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. You poor thing, cooped up in hospital. Tell you what, why don’t I get Bernard to come down and talk to Pierre? They’re good friends and Bernard will persuade him you need to be pampered among your own family. You should be up here at the farm with us. How far gone are you?’

‘About three and a half months.’

‘My, my, you kept that quiet, didn’t you? We definitely need to catch up on this complicated and top secret pregnancy, don’t we?’

‘Julia, are you sure you want me to impose myself on you at this late stage in your pregnancy? You’ve got enough on your plate with taking care of Philippe and everything else you have to do up at the farm.’

‘Chantal, I’m bored out of my tiny mind. Marianne does everything for Philippe, Bernard and, of course, me. She practically spoon-feeds me at mealtimes, standing over me to check I’m eating my greens. “Good for the baby!” That’s all I hear.

‘She’ll be delighted to have a real patient to fuss over. We’ve got everything up here in the farmhouse, ancient bedpans, voluminous nightdresses for pregnant ladies, nutritious food from the farm, expert doctors on hand to check anything you’d like checked.’

Julia broke off for a moment to speak to Bernard, who was just arriving in the room.

‘Come here a moment, it’s Chantal. When you get yourself into hospital this morning we’d like you to speak to Pierre Marchand. Chantal, I’ll call you back when I’ve explained the situation to Bernard. Take care of yourself. See you soon!’