The Midwife's Marriage Proposal (4 page)

Bryony scowled at him. ‘You behaved badly!'

Jack yawned and reached for his beer. ‘OK, honey,
give the guy a break. He's not the first person to have ended a relationship that wasn't working. I think we should all move on.'

‘That is precisely what I'm trying to do,' Tom said harshly, ‘only Sally won't give me the chance to discuss it. Perhaps I ought to tell her that she's allowed to black my eye if it will make her feel better.'

In fact, he half hoped she would. Perhaps it would ease his conscience.

Bryony plopped down on the chair next to Jack and gave a sigh. ‘I don't think it matters what you promise,' she said wearily. ‘You're not going to find it easy to get near her. She doesn't want to talk to you.'

And why was that?

Tom's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his sharp brain clicking into action. Surely if Sally was as indifferent to him as she was pretending, then one conversation was hardly going to cause a problem. She could just listen and then walk away.

Unless she was afraid that the walking away would be hard.

Jack lifted his beer. ‘Never was easy to get near to Sally Jenner. She always kept people at a distance.'

Except him.
Tom frowned.

He was the one person who'd been allowed to get close to her.

‘And can you blame her for that?' Bryony defended her friend quickly. ‘She spent her childhood moving from foster-home to foster-home, with no security and no one she could trust or love.'

Tom shifted uncomfortably.

Sally had trusted him. And she'd loved him.
Until he'd betrayed that trust and thrown her love back in her face.

‘This is a small community,' he said finally, draining his beer and standing up. ‘Sally and I need to clear the air if we're going to be able to work together. Are you going to tell me where she's living, Bry?'

Bryony kept her eyes on the table. ‘I'm sorry, Tom. I can't.'

Tom cast an exasperated look at Jack who shrugged helplessly.

‘Women.' He winked at his wife. ‘Especially blonde women.'

Tom gritted his teeth, his sense of humour less in evidence. ‘You know me well enough to know that I'll track her down sooner or later.'

Bryony looked at him. ‘But it will have been without my help.'

‘You're making things more difficult.'

‘Difficult was what you did to her seven years ago,' Bryony said stiffly. ‘Think about that while you're preparing your speech, big brother.'

Tom picked up his jacket and nodded to Jack. ‘Thanks for the beer.'

‘Any time,' Jack said mildly, ignoring his wife's glare. ‘Any time. I have a feeling you're going to need it.'

* * *

By the time she arrived at work the next morning, Sally was back in control.

The first meeting was always going to be difficult, she assured herself, stuffing her bag into her locker and making her way onto the labour ward.

From now on it could only get easier.

Having made that assumption, it annoyed her intensely to find that her heart missed a beat when she saw
Tom walking towards her down the corridor with that loose-limbed stride that had always set her heart racing.

His eyes were tired and the roughness of his darkened jaw suggested that he'd been up for most of the night.

‘Good morning.' He gave her a smile that made her catch her breath and she automatically shut down her feelings.

She didn't want to respond to that smile.

Didn't want to acknowledge the curl of awareness low in her pelvis.

‘Busy night?'

‘You could say that.' He gave a short laugh. ‘Why don't babies keep regular hours?'

Sally shrugged, intending to pass him, but he caught her arm and pulled her close to him, his voice low and meant only for her.

‘If Emma hadn't interrupted us, we would have had that conversation last night. How long do you think you can keep running, Sally?'

She drew breath, forcing herself to ignore the strength of his fingers on her arm. ‘I'm not running, Tom.' She stepped neatly away from him, forcing him to release her. ‘I'm walking. And we wouldn't have had a conversation. I don't want one.'

‘Why? I'm offering you the opportunity to shout at me or black my eye.'

She gave a faint smile. ‘Why would I want to do that?'

‘Because I probably deserve it.'

She stilled. Was he apologizing? Was he admitting that he'd been wrong?

‘You made the decision that was right for you, Tom.'

His jaw tightened. ‘It was right for both of us.'

So he didn't think he'd been wrong.

He'd never regretted it.

A rush of emotion threatened to choke her but she held his gaze steadily and her voice was chilly. ‘In that case, what is there to talk about?'

He sucked in a breath and looked uncertain, obviously thrown by her response. It occurred to her that it was the first time she'd ever seen Tom anything other than supremely confident. ‘I just know I need to talk to you.'

Sally shook her head. ‘There's nothing to be gained from rehashing the past. What happened, happened. It's done. You made the decision for both of us. I had no choice but to go along with that.'

Without waiting for his answer, she slid past him and carried on up the corridor without looking back, trying to control her heart rate.

She had no doubt that sooner or later he would force her into the conversation that he was obviously determined to have. But she was determined to postpone the moment for as long as possible.

‘Good morning.' She smiled at Emma who was collecting a set of notes from the desk. One glance at the whiteboard told her that she was in for a busy day. ‘Where do you want me?'

‘Can you divide yourself into four?' Emma rolled her eyes. ‘I've rung down to the ward to ask for some help up here. Everyone seems to have gone into labour at once.'

‘Isn't that always the way?' Sally reached for the nearest set of notes. She didn't mind being busy. All she asked was that today's mother-to-be would have a normal delivery. She didn't think she could face another day working side by side with Tom.

‘Perhaps you could take Charlotte Knight,' Emma said, staring at the board with her eyes narrowed. ‘She's four centimetres dilated and she's asking for an epidural.
She seems to have made up her mind so I've put in a call to the anaesthetist.'

Sally nodded. ‘You do a lot of epidurals here?'

‘Not if we can help it.' Tom's deep, male voice came from behind them and Sally felt her heart miss a beat. She hadn't heard his approach. ‘There is little doubt that epidurals are associated with longer labours, more use of oxytocin and more use of forceps and ventouse. We add in opiates and reduce the bupivacaine dose, which allows some mobility while maintaining adequate pain relief, but even so there is an increased rate of instrumental delivery. If we can encourage the mother to use a different sort of pain relief, we do.'

‘Well, I failed with her, I'm afraid,' Emma said gloomily, spreading her hands in a gesture of resignation. ‘I suppose it might be worth Sally giving it a try. You might have more luck.'

Sally tucked the notes under her arm and looked at Tom. ‘I thought most obstetricians were more than happy to dive in with instruments. It's what you love doing.'

‘Women are designed to give birth,' Tom said calmly. ‘Given the right amount of support and encouragement and some patience on our part, most of them manage it extremely well by themselves.'

‘Aren't you rather talking yourself out of a job?' Sally gave a faint smile and he shrugged.

‘Believe it or not, I already have more than enough work to keep me from my bed at night.' He nodded to Emma. ‘And on that note, I'm off to do a ward round then I'm going to bed, if I can remember where it is. It's so long since I last saw it that I may have trouble remembering, and I'm supposed to be working again tonight
so there's not much hope of seeing it then either. You can call me if you need me.'

He strode off, leaving Emma staring after him wistfully. ‘You see what I mean? Other doctors grab a woman as soon as she steps onto the labour ward and before you know it she's had her waters broken, a drip up and she's being given oxytocin. Tom lets a woman get on with it. He's wonderful. And he doesn't let the hospital management bully him into pushing patients through as fast as possible. Tom always says that labour takes as long as it takes.' She gave Sally a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. You've probably guessed that I'd have his babies by now if he asked me.'

Sally felt a sharp flash of pain.
She would have had his babies, too.

‘Not that I seriously entertain any hopes in that direction,' Emma said lightly. ‘Our Mr Hunter is a workaholic. No time for a serious relationship. Was he like that when you knew him?'

‘Probably.' Sally's smile was noncommittal. ‘It was a long time ago.'

Seven years, six weeks, three days and seven hours to be precise.

‘Anyway …' Emma waved a hand towards one of the delivery rooms ‘… go and have a chat with Charlotte. See if you can persuade her to try something different.'

‘Did you discuss the pool?'

‘She wasn't keen.'

‘Aromatherapy?'

Emma shook her head. ‘She didn't seem the type, but by all means go ahead. Tom would love you for ever if you manage to talk her out of an epidural.'

Sally picked up the notes and walked down the corridor,
trying not to remember that at one point in her life she'd truly believed that Tom's love
would
last for ever.

But she'd been wrong.

Pushing away painful memories, she opened the door to the delivery room and smiled at the woman on the bed.

‘Charlotte?' She put the notes down on the side and walked across the room. ‘I'm Sally. I'm your midwife.'

The young woman was clutching the edge of the bed and breathing rapidly. ‘This is agony. I want an epidural.'

‘That's not a problem,' Sally said immediately. ‘We've called the anaesthetist, but while we're waiting for him I just want to try a few things with you to help you relax. You're very tense, Charlotte, and that will make the pain worse.'

She talked quietly to the woman, calming her down, and then she dimmed the lights slightly and settled her in one of the chairs.

‘Do you like massage?'

The woman made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. ‘I love it. But I can't afford it very often since I gave up work.'

Sally smiled and picked up one of her bottles of essential oils. ‘Then you're in luck. I'm part of the service. I'm just going to do your neck and shoulders to try and relieve the tension. If you get a contraction and you want me to stop, let me know.'

She smoothed her hands over the woman's skin and Charlotte gave a moan of pleasure. ‘That feels amazing.'

Sally carried on massaging her, feeling the young woman gradually relax.

As each contraction came she helped her breathe properly and gradually Charlotte became calmer.

‘You're coping really well,' Sally said quietly. ‘Are you sure you want that epidural?'

Charlotte opened her eyes. ‘I don't think I can cope without it.'

‘You are coping. You're coping really well. And there are other things that we can try as well.'

Charlotte stirred and looked at her husband, ‘What do you think?'

He shook his head. ‘It's up to you, love. Whatever you feel is best.'

‘You don't have to decide now,' Sally said, her hands still stroking the woman's back. ‘Why don't we just delay the anaesthetist for a bit and see how we get on?'

Charlotte gave a sigh and closed her eyes again. ‘All right.'

Sally spent the rest of the afternoon with Charlotte, keeping her as relaxed as possible, encouraging her and helping her breathings. As the contractions grew stronger, she used different aromatherapy oils and soothing music and helped Charlotte to breathe the gas and air.

‘I can't believe she isn't screaming for an epidural,' Emma muttered, when Sally nipped outside for a quick break. ‘You're a miracle worker.'

‘I'm not.' Sally downed a glass of water quickly, reluctant to leave Charlotte for too long. ‘I think someone had just persuaded her that an epidural is the answer. I don't think she'd even considered other options.'

She went back to Charlotte and stayed there until early evening when she nipped out to take a phone call from Oliver Hunter, Tom and Bryony's brother, inviting her over that evening to meet his new fiancée.

‘It's great that you're home, Sally. The whole gang is back together at last. Come and have supper,' he said
easily, his tone as warm and friendly as ever. As if she hadn't been away for seven years with no contact.

Sally gave a soft smile as she held the phone. Oliver always had been the more friendly of the two brothers. Open and straightforward, where Tom was complex and brooding.

Why couldn't she have fallen for Oliver?

Life would have been so much more straightforward if she had.

‘So will you come?'

Sally's hand tightened on the receiver. Was it really possible to pick up the strands of friendship as if she'd never dropped them?

Suddenly she felt awkward. Awkward that she'd abandoned them all. But it had been the only way. If she hadn't cut the ties, she never would have survived. ‘I don't know what time I'll finish here …'

‘Doesn't matter,' Oliver said immediately. ‘Come over whenever. Bry and Jack are coming, and a few others. I'm trying to integrate my Helen into the community.'

Sally hesitated, wanting to know whether Tom would be there but not able to form the question.

To ask the question would make it look as though she cared.