Runaway Sister (16 page)

“Yes, it does,” agreed Adam, “but you can't put the world to rights all by yourself, you know.”

“No,” said Samantha, “but then neither do I have to be part of anything I don't like.”

“Quite,” he replied. “Now that brings us back to the point of—what do you like?” He slipped an arm casually round her shoulder and smiled at her. His eyes softened as he smiled, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat at the sheer attractiveness of his infectious smile and she found herself smiling back again.

“That's better,” said Adam. “I like it when you smile at me, it makes me feel that perhaps we can be friends after all.”

Familiar feelings stirred inside her, quickening her senses. His lips were tantalizingly near and coming nearer. Afterwards Samantha wondered whether or not he would have kissed her had they not been interrupted, but she was never to know, for Sophie's voice had come ringing across the terrace, calling him to her side.

Samantha felt Adam stiffen at the sound of his name, and he dropped his arm from her shoulders and looked over to where Sophie and Tex were standing.

“Come on, darling,” called Sophie, “Tex has had a splendid idea and we want you to be in on it.”

“Coming?” Adam asked Samantha.

“No, thanks,” she said. “I'm quite happy standing here just watching. You go.” She knew he would anyway; Sophie's call was not to be ignored. She watched him walk over to join Sophie and Tex, then the three of them left the terrace and walked back into the palace where there were many other gaming tables inside. Samantha smiled wryly. Which game it was didn't really matter, it was just a matter of losing money in a different way, she thought cynically, as she walked over to join Dennis and Valerie.

Valerie was feeling tired, and Samantha was worried to see that she looked rather pale with dark circles under her eyes.

“I think you ought to leave now,” she told her, “and I'm coming with you.”

“Yes,” agreed Valerie wearily, “I think perhaps I have overdone it a little.”

“I'll go and speak to Sophie and Adam,” said Dennis, “and let them know we're going.” He returned a few minutes later with the news that they would make their own way back, either by taxi or with Tex.

Samantha was rather surprised that Adam had not shown a little more concern for his sister's welfare. It was unlike him, especially as he was an obstetrician. She had been rather hoping he would cast a professional eye over Valerie.

“Did you tell Adam that Valerie wasn't well?” she asked.

“Certainly not,” said Dennis. “Valerie would have killed me, wouldn't you?” he asked, turning to his wife.

Valerie laughed, “Yes, I would. Don't worry, Samantha, I'm just a little tired, that's all.”

Nevertheless Samantha was worried. Valerie had been so well, it was unlike her to become suddenly tired. She had, after all, had a good rest in the afternoon, and usually she had to be persuaded to retire at a reasonable hour, because she was more than happy to sit up into the wee small hours of the morning chatting away.

When they reached the villa, Samantha suggested firmly, in such a way that she could not be resisted, that Valerie go to her room and that before she settled for the night Samantha would check her over.

Valerie smiled. “My goodness, your professional training shows,” she said. “You haven't actually ordered me to do anything, but I daren't refuse you!”

Samantha checked her very carefully. She was thirty-four weeks pregnant and from an abdominal examination everything seemed normal; perhaps the baby was lying a little lower than one would expect, she thought, but nothing to worry about. The fetal heart was strong.

“You're getting plenty of movement from the baby?” she asked Valerie as her gentle hands probed the soft flesh of Valerie's abdomen.

“I should say!” answered Valerie. “That's probably why I'm feeling a bit off color, he's been kicking like hell all day today.”

Samantha raised her eyebrows and smiled. “I do wish you and Dennis would give consideration to the fact that it might be a girl,” she said.

Valerie laughed. “I do really, it's just that we always refer to the baby as he—you know how it is.”

“Mm” was all Samantha murmured as she palpated Valerie's legs looking for any sign of edema. There was none. All that remained now was to take her blood pressure, and if that was normal she would be happy.

Placing the cuff around Valerie's arm, she inflated it and putting the stethoscope in her ears listened anxiously for the familiar, far distant sound of the blood surging through the artery and then the rebound sound of the diastolic pressure. It was high, a hundred and forty over a hundred.

“Everything OK?” asked Valerie.

“Perfect,” Samantha lied with professional ease as she noted the blood pressure on the record chart she kept. “Nothing at all for you to worry about.”
But everything for me to worry about,
she thought, wishing Adam were there.

After she said good night to Valerie she pondered over the blood pressure problem. Should she mention it to Dennis or not? Eventually she decided that discretion was the better part of valor; there was no point in worrying him at that moment, and there was nothing she could do about it then. She decided to wait until Adam returned and have a word with him.

She sat up in her room waiting for Adam and Sophie to return, but hour after hour went by and still they had not arrived. The more she thought about Valerie, the more worried she became, and her thoughts began to dwell on all the horrific possibilities it could indicate.

Stories she had heard of nephritic toxemia, acute yellow atrophy of the liver, and her own experience of eclampsia, raced through her mind. Crossly she gave herself a mental shake; she certainly wasn't behaving professionally now. Valerie had no symptoms of toxemia, and apart from her blood pressure, everything appeared normal.
But that's the point,
the nagging voice at the back of her brain kept repeating,
what is it you've missed?

By now it was so late, and Samantha was so tired, she lay on the bed fully dressed, her window open, thinking she would hear the car when it drew up. But she didn't, she fell into a deep sleep instead and heard nothing.

In her sleep she dreamed that Valerie had her baby prematurely and that everything went wrong. She was alone in the house with her, she couldn't get the local doctor to help, Valerie was hemorrhaging and the baby wasn't breathing. Restlessly she tossed and turned, a feeling of panic welling up inside her, perspiration pouring from her brow. She couldn't cope, everything was out of control, and it was all her fault.

Abruptly she sat up in bed, perspiration pouring from her brow. She was still fully clothed, of course, in her evening dress, but it was broad daylight and the sun was pouring in through her open window straight onto her. That was the reason she was drenched in perspiration. Samantha shook her head in puzzlement. The sun was so hot, it was strange for early morning. She looked at her watch—it had stopped.
Damn,
she thought,
damn, damn, damn, I forgot to wind it last night!
She had no idea what the time really was, but she felt uncomfortably sure it was much later than early morning.

Then the frightful truth struck her. Adam was catching the first plane out, and if she didn't hurry she would miss him. Without waiting to shower or change she hurried downstairs, still in her evening dress of the night before.

Maria, the maid who came in daily, looked startled at the unprepossessing sight of a disheveled Samantha running down the stairs.

“Where is Adam—I mean Mr. Shaw?” demanded Samantha.

“He gone,” said the girl in her broken English.

“Oh God!” muttered Samantha under her breath. Not only had she overslept, she hadn't heard him come in. She cursed herself for ever lying down on the bed; she should have waited downstairs in the chair. But it was too late now, she would have to use her knowledge and her training and cope on her own. If she felt Valerie needed it she would insist she was flown to Athens, although she knew Dennis would be dead against such a move.

She went back to her room, relieved that Dennis and Valerie hadn't seen her in a panic. The last thing she wanted to do was to worry them. She decided she would check Valerie over again later in the day, and then decide what to do. If necessary, she consoled herself, she could always ring Adam in England and ask his advice. Although she knew from past experience of trying to ring her friends from Corfu that the telephone service from the island to England left much to be desired.

Slowly she showered and put on a cool summer dress, then went downstairs to where Valerie was sitting with her feet up in the shade. Samantha was pleased to see that she looked a better color than she had the night before.

“How do you feel?” she asked, trying hard to keep any hint of anxiety out of her voice. Casually she took Valerie's wrist and checked her pulse.

“Oh, Samantha, you do fuss,” complained Valerie. “I feel fine now, absolutely fine. I'm sorry you missed Adam and Sophie,” she added. “We did send Maria up to knock on your door, but she said you didn't answer.”

“Yes, I'm sorry I missed Adam,” said Samantha. Little did Valerie know how sorry, but still, no use worrying over something she could do nothing about, she told herself. It was up to her to make sure everything went well—after all, that was what she had been employed for. So far the job had been more like a holiday than a job to be taken seriously, but suddenly the implications of what it would be like if she was totally alone without help in a difficult situation hit Samantha. She had coped with difficult situations many times before, but it had always been with the comfortable knowledge that she could call for and get help quickly whenever she needed it. This time, help would not be forthcoming quickly, if at all, she thought, remembering how casual the one doctor she had met had been. He operated a one-man practice and his wife acted as receptionist, taking all the messages. The main problem seemed to be that he never told her where he was going, and communications were not good at the best of times.

Resolutely, however, Samantha put all these disturbing thoughts from her mind as she sat down to lunch with Dennis and Valerie. She was pleased to see that Valerie's appetite was good, and pointedly moved the orange juice over towards her and removed the wine bottle.

Valerie wrinkled her nose. “Are you saying I can't have any?” she asked.

“Well, I do think now that your pregnancy is this advanced, it would be a good idea to cut it down very drastically—even cut it out altogether.”

Valerie made a face. “Well, if you say so,” she said. “You know I'll do as you say.”

“I do think it would be best for you and the baby,” said Samantha. “The last thing we want is for you to put on any excess weight now, during the last few weeks.” She smiled encouragingly at Valerie. “Apart from anything else, you want your slim figure to come back as soon as possible, don't you?” She knew that by appealing to Valerie's vanity she would have more likelihood of persuading her.

“OK, you win,” said Valerie in a resigned tone of voice. “I shall just have to suffer and watch you and Dennis drinking!”

Dennis offered to give up wine too, but Valerie hooted with laughter at the thought of such a ridiculous notion. “Just because I'm pregnant, there's no need for you to suffer,” she told him. “Anyway, you've had wine with your meals all your life, I can't see you abstaining for very long.”

“It would be an effort,” admitted Dennis, “but I will if you want me to.”

“Certainly not,” answered Valerie positively. “I've only got another few weeks to go anyway, and it's not that important.”

Samantha was pleased that she had persuaded Valerie to give up wine so easily, but wondered with misgivings whether or not she should not have insisted on it before. But common sense told her that Valerie had not gained any excessive weight, and she certainly didn't drink a great deal, just a glass of wine with her meals.
Stop getting jittery about nothing,
she told herself firmly.

That afternoon Valerie went for her usual rest and Samantha went swimming in the cove alone.
The last time I was here I pushed Adam off the jetty,
she reflected, now able to look back on the incident with some amusement. She recalled his face as he had surfaced, coughing and spluttering, his expression surprised and angry.

She wondered when Adam would reach the hospital in England, and realized with some consternation that she didn't have his home telephone number. She couldn't ask Valerie or Dennis for it, because they would be sure to wonder why she wanted to speak to Adam. That was another problem she hadn't considered before—how on earth was she going to be able to speak to Adam without them knowing?

Meditating over this problem, she lazily paddled her way through the clear blue water, enjoying the soothing effect of the warm salty sea. It was as she was swimming back to the jetty that she resolved to make some excuse to go into Corfu Town that evening. She would examine Valerie, make a note of her condition, and then go to a café in the town, use the phone and talk to Adam. Once she had decided on positive action she felt much more cheerful, and enjoyed the rest of her afternoon on the beach.

Chapter Nine

That evening Samantha examined Valerie as she had planned, and to her relief the blood pressure had come down to a healthy hundred and thirty over ninety. Even so Samantha still resolved to go into Corfu Town and telephone Adam, for reassurance as much as anything else. She told a white lie to Dennis and Valerie and said she wanted to go shopping and would they mind very much if she ate out in Corfu while she was there. They thought nothing strange in that, as the shops didn't open again anyway until six in the evening.

“I won't be late,” Samantha told them after they had told her to take whichever car she wanted. She opted for the small Fiat, it was so much easier to negotiate on the steep bends and inclines of the road than the larger car. Feeling much happier than she had the previous night, she buzzed along in the little car towards Corfu.

The little town was humming with life as usual. Samantha had always been fascinated by the long narrow streets, crowded with merchandise. Some parts were strictly for the tourist trade, but others were for the local people where the shops displayed their wares of fish, meat and fresh vegetables. This night, however, she had no time to dawdle, but made her way to a largish restaurant, which she knew had a fairly reliable telephone as she had used it before.

She ordered her meal, taramasalata, souvlakia and Greek salad, and a half bottle of retsina, then she told the waiter not to hurry as she wanted to make a telephone call to England.

Time after time she dialed the number, only to get the engaged signal as soon as she tried to get a line out of Corfu. It was hopeless, and at last she gave up and ate her meal. She would try later, perhaps the lines wouldn't be so busy then.

Later, however, it was the same story, that wretched long beep-beep, telling her there were no lines available. The restaurant owner, Nick, was concerned for her, but there was nothing he could do.

“Is hopeless,” he said with his attractive Greek accent. “Here in Corfu we are cut off. The Greek government should give us more telephone lines.”

Samantha wholeheartedly agreed, but there was nothing she could do, so reluctantly she gave up and eventually drove back to the villa.

When she arrived she drove the little Fiat into the gravel driveway in front of the villa and was surprised to see that although it was late, lights were on in most of the rooms. Dennis must have heard the sound of the car wheels crunching on the gravel, for he came hurrying out.

“Thank God you've come back!” he gasped. “It's Valerie, she's gone into labor!”

Samantha's heart leaped in alarm. “But she has nearly a month to go!” she gasped, running from the car into the villa. Her mind was racing ahead.
It can't be,
she thought,
the head wasn't engaged when I examined her—surely I couldn't have made a mistake?

Valerie was in her room upstairs, and Samantha immediately went to her. There was no doubt about it, she was well and truly in labor. Samantha examined her, smiling encouragingly at Valerie, who was worried because her labor had started prematurely.

“Now don't you worry about a thing,” said Samantha coolly, with a lot more confidence than she actually felt. “You probably got your dates wrong, that's all.”

Her matter-of-fact tone and the simple explanation alleviated some of Valerie's apprehension and helped her to relax a little.

“Now it's important that you remember and put into practice all the exercises we've been doing together,” said Samantha firmly. “Especially the deep-breathing ones.”

Valerie nodded, and the next time a contraction started she began to breathe in as Samantha had taught her. “It works!” she exclaimed when the contraction had subsided.

“Of course it works,” answered Samantha briskly. “We wouldn't have wasted our time doing them if it didn't.”

Leaving Valerie, she went and changed into a thin cotton dress and took her gown, cap and mask into the room where Valerie was lying, ready to put them on when the time came. Then she went to find Dennis.

He was pacing up and down on the terrace, lighting one cigarette after another and then stubbing it out nervously after inhaling a few puffs. As soon as he saw Samantha he hurried towards her.

“What's gone wrong?” he demanded, his face grey with worry.

“Nothing yet,” said Samantha firmly. “It's early, it's true, but not too early to have a good healthy baby. She appears to be well and the baby's heart is good and strong.”

Dennis visibly relaxed. “Thank God,” he said. “I would never forgive myself if anything went wrong because I've been so obstinate, and wanted this baby to be born here.”

It's a little late to think of that,
thought Samantha, but she said calmly, “However, I do think it would be a good idea if we could have another opinion, try to get hold of Dr. Papasthatis, and also is it possible for you to let Adam know? I think he should be told.”

Dennis frowned. “Well, phoning is almost impossible,” he said, “although it's worth a try now, as it's late at night, maybe I'll get a line.”

“I'm going back with Valerie now,” said Samantha. “If you do get through to Adam I'd like to speak to him if possible.”

She left Dennis telephoning and went back to Valerie, who was being very good and cooperative, and was helping herself a lot by relaxing and breathing deeply with every contraction. Samantha felt her anxiety lessen a little. Perhaps Valerie had got her dates wrong, in which case there would be nothing to worry about.

Dennis came into the room and over to Valerie. “How is it going, darling?” he asked, holding her hand.

“Just fine,” she smiled at him. “Don't you worry about a thing, Samantha and I will manage admirably.”

Dennis squeezed her hand and motioned with his head for Samantha to join him outside, which she did a few moments later on a pretext of going to get herself a drink.

“I got through to Adam,” he told her.

“Good,” said Samantha, starting to go down the stairs. “There are several things I would like his advice on.”

Dennis pulled her back. “Wait, you haven't heard everything,” he said. “I just managed to get a line and eventually got through to Adam, I told him Valerie had gone into premature labor and that you wanted to speak to him, then we were cut off, and I haven't been able to get a line since.”

“Damn!” Samantha clenched her fists in frustrated rage. She had always taken the telephone for granted before, but now with an inefficient system to cope with she realized how isolated they really were.

“Oh well,” she said resignedly, “I shall just have to use my own judgment—after all, that was what I was trained for.” She glanced at Dennis's face, consternation written all over it. “Don't worry,” she said reassuringly, “it won't be long before you're a father.”

In fact it was much sooner than she had anticipated. Valerie's labor went on through the night, the contractions getting stronger and stronger, and by the early morning she was ready to bear down. By now Samantha had changed and was wearing her gown and mask, and she told Dennis that if he wanted he could join them, but that he must wear the gown and mask she had left outside the door. He declined, however, losing his nerve at the last moment.

“I'm glad really,” whispered Valerie. “I know it's the modern thing and everything, but I do feel a bit undignified.”

Samantha laughed. “I'm inclined to agree with you,” she said, as she carefully inserted two fingers, feeling the degree of cervical dilatation. Everything seemed to be going well, but Samantha was prepared for an episiotomy as Valerie was very small.

The time passed quickly for both women, Valerie concentrating on her breathing and Samantha concentrating on all the tasks she had to perform—constant monitoring of the fetal heartbeat, Valerie's blood pressure and above all constant encouragement to Valerie herself. When the baby's head presented, the pain of the pressure on the perineum caused Valerie to cry out for the first time.

Samantha hesitated. She was reluctant to perform an episiotomy, because she knew apart from the pain to the patient, the scarred tissue often presented problems with future deliveries. However, she had to try to gauge which was best, to let the baby's head through naturally, which might result in excessive tearing of the perineum, or to make the small episiotomy incision and thus ease the baby's progress through. The skin was stretched tightly, almost to breaking point, and all Valerie's good resolution and previous practice at relaxation went out of the window as she tensed against the severe pain, making the situation worse.

Samantha hesitated no longer, but picked up the scalpel she had laid ready and made a median incision. The blood welled out from the cut and she staunched it with a pad, but at the next push the baby's head slid through easily and Valerie let out a great shuddering sigh of relief.

“That was excruciating,” she whispered.

“I know—I'm sorry,” said Samantha, “but all you have to do now is wait for a moment, while I check that the cord isn't around the baby's neck, and then when I give the OK you can push again and your baby will be born.”

With an expertise born of so many years' practice she quickly ran her finger around the baby's neck. All was well, thank God, she thought as she breathed an inward sigh of relief and said, “You can push when you want to.”

With the next push the baby was born, and within a few seconds he gave a lusty cry. Dennis came running into the room at the sound of the baby's cry.

“Is Valerie all right?” he demanded, not even looking at the baby.

“I'm fine,” she answered weakly, exhausted now. “How is the baby?”

Samantha was busy checking the baby over. Everything appeared to be normal; he was perhaps a little small, but that was to be expected. After all, Valerie was tiny, but he was a good healthy pink color and certainly had a good strong pair of lungs, which he proceeded to demonstrate in no uncertain manner.

“You have a beautiful if somewhat noisy son,” she announced to Dennis and Valerie.

Dennis looked as if he would burst with pride as Samantha wrapped the baby and handed him to an eager Valerie.

“Our Dmitri is wonderful,” he said softly, peering in at the pink crumpled face. “He's such a good-looking baby.”

“Takes after his father,” said Valerie contentedly.

They were still all three of them in the bedroom, Dennis and Valerie cooing over their newborn son, Samantha clearing up and getting ready to shoo Dennis out so that she could check over Valerie once more, when they were all startled by the sound of a car screeching to a halt outside the villa.

Dennis left the room to go downstairs, and as he did so Samantha looked out of the window for the first time in hours. It was bright sunlight outside, the sky was its usual clear azure blue, the flowers outside seemed more brilliant than ever. She realized with incredulity, that it must be almost midday. They had all lost all track of time, being completely absorbed with the task in hand of delivering the baby.

The sound of masculine voices could be heard coming nearer, and the clatter of footsteps on the marble stairs. Samantha raised her head and listened intently. Surely that was Adam's voice? But it couldn't be, she must be dreaming.

Adam burst into the room, closely followed by Dennis. “I caught the next plane I could out of London,” he said, “but I gather I've arrived too late, the two of you have managed very well alone.”

“Valerie was the perfect patient,” said Samantha quietly. “She made it easy for herself.”

“Oh, Adam,” said Valerie, bursting into tears, “I'm so glad to see you!”

Adam knelt by his sister's bed and kissed her tenderly, then he looked at the still bawling red scrap wrapped up beside her. He looked up at Samantha, his eyes shining, and she could see that he was overcome with emotion as well. “My first nephew,” he said. “Everything OK?”

Samantha nodded. Suddenly she felt very alone, an outsider looking on at the family joy. Her job was done now; apart from a few loose ends to tie up once the postnatal care was organized and established, she would be leaving here forever. She would have to get a job in another hospital and would probably never see Adam again.

However, she kept her thoughts well in check and answered Adam carefully. “Yes, everything went normally, but I'm afraid I had to do an episiotomy, so I'm glad you're here—you can suture it for me.”

Adam frowned thoughtfully. “I'm not surprised,” he said. “Valerie is small and this fellow, although he's early, isn't so small.”

With Samantha assisting he gave Valerie a local anesthetic and made small neat sutures. “You did a good clean episiotomy,” he told Samantha, as he was concentrating on his task. “You obviously have the touch of a surgeon.”

“She has the touch of an angel, Adam,” said Valerie. “I don't think I could have managed without her. Dennis and I were so frightened when the baby started to come early.”

“So was I,” admitted Samantha. “I wanted to speak to you, Adam, before you left because Valerie's blood pressure was a little raised the night we went to the casino.”

“Why on earth didn't you tell me?” he demanded, straightening his long frame as he finished suturing.

Valerie stretched out a hand to him. “We didn't tell you because I didn't want you to know I didn't feel well that night, but I didn't know I had high blood pressure. You told me everything was all right,” she said accusingly to Samantha.

“I had to say that,” replied Samantha. “The last thing I wanted was for you to worry about anything, and I was certain that the next morning I'd be able to speak to Adam. However, as you probably realize, I overslept and missed you. I could have kicked myself,” she confessed. Then she added, “I went into Corfu Town last night and tried to telephone you from a public phone, but I couldn't get a line, and by the time I returned it was too late anyway because Valerie had gone into labor.” She sighed. “I would never have forgiven myself for going to sleep, if anything had gone wrong.”