It Shouldn't Happen to a Midwife! (7 page)

The priest gave us a smug ‘told you so' look before thanking God for deliverance and the presence of a diligent messenger at such a crucial time.

‘I know he doesn't have one but what is it and what will I tell him?'

The doctor looked solemn. ‘I can't actually say but just let him know that the sooner I see him the better it'll be for everybody. Now, do you think you could go, and quickly too?'

‘Well if you're sure I can't pass on any other message,' the priest said, looking cheated then frustrated. Then clutching at a straw, ‘I've actually a few things to do here first so if you could tell me more …'

Horns could have locked had Seonaid not stepped forward and asked if the family lived nearby. Dr O'Reilly had to look down to locate the voice whilst the priest seemed relieved to find somebody with long sooty eyelashes and small enough to hardly pose any threat. ‘Number Seventy-Six. It's just a wee way down the Falls Road, but it'll be no trouble for me to go, especially if it's an emergency.' Curiosity sharpened his tone. ‘Look, I can do me other chores here later.'

‘Ah! But I could easily run down just now, and as you say you've work to do here. See, Father, I'm really fast.' Seonaid wiggled a shoe as if it had spikes. ‘It'll be our lunch hour soon and I'm sure Miss Harvey won't mind. She knows Mrs Murphy.'

Dr O'Reilly brightened. ‘That'd be even better. As you say, Father, you're a busy man and you've just said you've other things to do so maybe this nurse should go and she can check everything's alright in the household as well.' His eyes drifted over the priest's gravy stains whilst he added gently, ‘And maybe you might not be the best judge of that.'

The priest looked thwarted then blue as a fit of coughing worthy of medical attention took over, giving Dr O'Reilly a perfect opportunity to hurry back to the real work of the labour ward.

As the priest recovered, his chin settled back into its pillow of Brillo-coloured jowl and he sighed. ‘Ah, but these doctors all think they know best and, forgive me for saying so, but Miss Harvey may have her job to do whilst mine is a calling.' He made the comparison sound as if he was a hot-blooded saviour. ‘You know the family is very special to me so I'll just hurry with my other tasks and follow you on then, Nurse.' But Seonaid was already out of negotiating range.

‘Does that not remind you of a Christmas pudding on the run?' said Laura, nodding as the priest bobbed off in the opposite direction . ‘But I suppose we should head back to the lecture room – Miss Harvey'll be waiting for us.'

As we passed the nursery Marie said, ‘They must have allowed in Mammy Fleming. See? I'd know her by her hair. Ah, the wee love, she'll feel better being there and so much closer.' She pointed to a gowned figure under whose cap a ratty tail escaped and who was now gazing into Mary-Jo's incubator.

As unaware of us as her daughter was of her, the figure sat motionless , looking in with the same intensity as Marie whilst I hurried to catch up with Seonaid.

‘I think the doctor wants Mrs Murphy to be sterilised, tubes tied and all that.'

‘And I think her husband will too,' Seonaid cranked up her pace, ‘once I've had a word with him, but I'll have to shift. Father O'Patrick's going to be right on my tail and I don't want him trailing in clouds of conscience and talk of God's will before I get my oar in.' As she sprinted past the lecture room she called back, ‘Could you just tell Miss Harvey where I've gone?'

I wasn't sure if that was a good idea, especially as Miss Harvey nodded us in with a grin so fierce you might have thought she was my aunt welcoming an unexpected busload of hungry relations. Suddenly, I wished I'd gone with Seonaid.

‘I want you all in and in your seats now!'

She slammed the door shut and leant against it as if we might escape, which I now very much wanted to do. There was a brief silence whilst she contemplated her shoes which were Edinburgh sensible, highly-polished and apparently a brighter sight than her class. Silence prevailed, then in a very cold voice she said, ‘I've just had a visit from Professor McQuaid who'd come to fix up a time for a lecture I'd asked him to give. He was surprised nobody was here and when I told him where you actually were he said he'd been to the labour ward and was told there was nothing happening.'

Her sigh was as gusty as that of a chief mourner fighting against sleet. ‘And I can tell you right now, he's just furious and for that matter so am I. He's a busy man and accustomed to respect. I believe he almost had a door shut in his face and then …' In an ‘Outraged of Morningside' voice, she registered a far more serious crime. ‘You lied to me as well. I want you all to know you've put me in a very embarrassing position. Against all my principles, I've had to defend you and say it was just you were so mustard keen to see an actual delivery you forgot yourselves.'

Even if she didn't appear to have noticed Seonaid's absence, perhaps this was not the time to explain it. The St Andrew's flags on Margaret and Cynthia's backs flapped disconsolately whilst Miss Harvey stomped over to a shelf. ‘And covering up for liars is not what I joined this profession to do.'

Having successfully laid a mantle of gloom and continuing the spirit of despondency, Miss Harvey picked up a decayed looking pelvis and the head of a doll so battered it merited social work intervention or an autopsy. With the care of an antique dealer happening on a rare find, she held up both artefacts. ‘These are the Professor's and he uses them for his lecture on the Mechanism of Labour – his special subject.'

Mechanics and labour weren't words I could imagine putting together until Miss Harvey held the pelvis in one hand. With the other she put the doll's head through, turning it as if screwing a jar top.

‘He uses this to demonstrate the different positions and action of a baby going head first during labour. Even though that's the best way, it can still deliver in lots of different ways. It's not always easy to grasp but it's fundamental to understanding those differences. Nobody explains it better than the Professor. We're privileged he's always done it for the student midwives. Now I'm not so sure …'

My head was beginning to spin at the same speed as the doll's, except it didn't have a body to worry about. I'd my stomach to consider. Surely a cancelled lunchtime wasn't on the cards. My mind drifted off to Seonaid and wandered back in time to catch Miss Harvey's winding-up lecture.

‘I've assured the Professor that you won't be credited with witnessing that last delivery and that's helped a bit. Certainly seemed to cheer him up.' She gave a grim smile. ‘So hopefully, and in a little while, he'll have calmed down and will come and give his lecture. Otherwise we'll all be wasting each other's time. I happen to value mine so whilst you're having lunch, think what you should profitably do with yours.'

‘Well, anyway, that's our first day over and we haven't killed anybody,' I said, ‘but you should have let me speak up for you. I wouldn't have minded and I'm sure Miss Harvey'd have believed me. She might have been glad that at least one of us wasn't a liar.'

Marie only clutched her record book as if it might be snatched from her. ‘Miss Harvey must think we're awful. What a way to start. We'll be lucky if we're not kicked out.'

As we got out of the lift I determined to be cheerful. ‘Just look on the bright side. See how you've forgotten your vertigo; here we are, right on top of the world; and think of all the lovely views from your room and how lucky you are to have the best one.'

Our corridor was as warm and welcoming as the maternity's wasn't with nurses in rollers sprawled over chairs in chatty groups. Untrammelled by parenthood cares, they were discussing ways to avoid them with dancing all night at Maxims' as good a way as any.

‘And tonight should be great craic with the Showband there,' someone said, making me want to join the conversation. But I was with Marie and she was still set on a martyr's course.

‘I wouldn't have wanted you getting into more trouble. Miss Harvey would just have said my principles should have made me speak up there and then.' Marie gnawed her knuckle and blinked hard. ‘I'm such a coward. I shouldn't have been frightened to speak to the Professor.'

‘And when you were squashed flat, given a posthumous medal for bravery? No! I suspect Miss Harvey would really have understood why you didn't say anything at the actual time.'

Marie looked doubtful and turned the key in her lock. ‘Ah, Jane, much as you're trying now, you're not making me feel any better.' She considered the middle distance. ‘But confession now, that might – and there's a church nearby.'

‘Confession? Confession! You've only been here five minutes and already you're a beacon of hope in a class of sinners.'

‘No I'm not. I'm a sinner too.' She was determined on suffering.

‘How come?'

She looked around very carefully, then drawing her head near mine, whispered, ‘I've said
flip
three times.' She searched my face, obviously waiting for shock to register, then as the silence between us stretched, added, ‘So now you must see why I need to go.'

‘By Jove, yes,' I said, thinking, one up to you, God. Your little angel might faint if suggesting the Showband might be a better fix as well as helping us celebrate Seonaid's visit to Mr Murphy.

She'd returned when we'd been having lunch, breathless but triumphant.

‘Just a dawdle,' she'd reported. ‘I was cool as a breeze with the da. I think he was more stressed out about having his mother-in-law helping than hanging out nappies in his garden where he'd gone to escape. When I told him the Doc. needed to see him he asked why, so I said I didn't rightly know but maybe he should think about knot tying one way or another. He gave the washing line a good jiggle and said there was nothing wrong with it, and then Father Murphy arrived so I had to be quick.' Seonaid mimicked the trouser-hitching part of ‘The Sailor's Hornpipe' then clapped her hands. ‘He got that message alright.'

Marie gazed at her, round-eyed.

‘You don't mean he should,' she dropped her gaze to her lap then faltered, ‘get done.'

‘A first for Belfast, I imagine,' I said dryly. ‘Now you know why the Scots wear sporrans, Marie.'

‘Ach! Would you stop your teasing, Jane?' Seonaid rebuked. ‘At least Mr Murphy got something other than the washing to think about. Father O'Patrick tried for a word but I told him we mustn't mess with Dr O'Reilly's time, and if Mr Murphy came now I could get him in by the back entrance so's it'd be quicker.'

‘And what about Father O'Patrick?'

‘Left holding the babbies, or in his case the nappies.'

‘You've got a nerve,' Margaret had said and not in total admiration. ‘And, Seonaid, are you not a Catholic? I'd have thought all this would be against your principles.'

‘Sure, not when a life's at stake and I'm saving that oulde yoke Father O'Patrick's conscience too. He'd feel guilty at some point – or should do. Anyway, Margaret, you'd better stay at home tonight and pray for my soul in your own way,' said Seonaid, counting her out. ‘Would anybody else like to come to the Showband? I've two tickets.'

The rest of the group declined and, having qualified on the grounds of being a stranger in town and not totally impoverished by buying Matron's book, I was in.

‘What should I wear?'

‘Tight and not tartan,' she'd advised, and now that I was back in my room, she'd come to look at a wardrobe full of stout weatherproof gear.

She was critical. ‘I know we get a lot of rain, but you seem to be expecting a flood. What about this?' She picked out a dress, so small it was surprising she noticed it. ‘That green'll go great with your red hair.'

I'd bought the flimsy thing in a fit of optimism and now, more realistically , was wondering why.

‘It'll be fine as long as I don't breathe, and have you a shoe horn? I don't think Belfast's ready for so many curves in such a little space.' I tried to grab it to put it back but Seonaid's grip tightened. ‘Ah, for God's sake! This is the Sixties, remember, it's not as if you're going to a parish meeting. You'll be super.' She rolled the ‘r' in a mocking way.

‘You'll be a wee while before you speak like a proper Scot, so you won't,' I jeered.

I thought I might bottle out if I looked in the mirror so, when dressed, I asked for Seonaid's opinion instead.

She looked me over carelessly. ‘Grand now!' She took a tailed comb from an enormous handbag and handed it over. ‘But you'll need to do a bit of back-combing right at the top.' She twiddled her finger above her head. ‘With your hair that flat, nobody'll notice you.'

Tonight Miss MacCready hadn't that problem. With her hair splendidly bouffant and with a dress so shockingly pink it could have brought on a migraine, she glissaded over the foyer floor to greet us.

‘Youse two planning to go out then?'

‘Yes,' said Seonaid, taking my arm as if I needed special assistance. ‘Jane needs to see a bit of the town and its rich heritage.'

Miss MacCready cast a glance about her then whispered, ‘It wouldn't be a blind date then?'

‘Good gracious no!' I said, even if the idea had some appeal.

Miss MacCready looked doubtful. ‘I'm pleased to hear it. Ye see, I'd the same conversation with a wee nurse who'd just arrived here from the country. Lovely girl she was, so she was, and just like you she was going out and dressed much the same.' Having made reproof as obvious as the draught swirling about my knees, she went on, ‘She told me someone from an agency had fixed her up with a date.'

A night porter wheezed into sight. Coldly, the receptionist watched as he hung his jacket over a hard chair before sitting down. ‘How are ye, Jo?' she asked, not bothering for a reply but returning to her saga. ‘Well, off she went into the night saying, “That's me off, Miss MacCready – and I'm so excited.”' With a breath intake enough to resite the pink, she held up two fingers. ‘
Two
days later she came back … and …'