The Story of Danny Dunn (37 page)

He heard the extension ringing, then a rattle as the receiver was lifted. ‘Hello. Matron Kirk.'

‘Matron, my name is Dunn, Daniel Dunn; we haven't met.'

‘Oh? Are you a doctor?'

‘No, a lawyer, madam.'

There was a pause. ‘Is it a matter concerning me or the hospital, Mr . . . what did you say your name was?'

Danny had to hand it to her – she was quick. Without thinking he replied, ‘It is Daniel Corrib Dunn. I'm a solicitor and it concerns both.' Danny went on in a relaxed, easy voice, ‘But let me quickly add, matron, that it is an informal matter – an important request but not one that should give you or the hospital the slightest problem. I'm calling from close by and could see you in the foyer or your office in a matter of minutes.
I promise to take no more than three or four minutes of your time.'

Danny held his breath, conscious that the matron's reply would decide whether he won or lost. He couldn't think of a single reason why she'd agree to see him. If she asked, he'd have to stumble through some kind of explanation or pathetic admission; tell the truth, beg. To his surprise she caught him completely off-guard by saying, ‘Corrib. Did you say Corrib? That's a county in Ireland, isn't it?'

Danny realised she was playing for time, deciding how to react to his request. What did he expect? She was a matron of the biggest maternity hospital in the city and he didn't doubt for one moment she was a formidable woman, not one to be easily conned. ‘No, matron, rather more the district around the lake of the same name. It's where my grandparents came from. My grandfather was born and raised in a crofter's cottage on the lake shore.'
What now?
Danny thought, inwardly wincing, certain he'd blown it.

‘Daniel
Corrib
Dunn, unusual,' the matron remarked, adding quickly, ‘Strange coincidence. The only time I've heard that name before was at my niece's graduation ceremony at Sydney University earlier this year. A law graduate who won the University Medal.' There followed a slight pause, then, ‘Was that you?'

There is a God in heaven,
Danny thought. ‘Yes, matron, I'm afraid my darling mother became a little distraught on the day.'

‘Nonsense, it was lovely and quite understandable. I must say, the vice-chancellor's opening address and then the presentation left us all very close to tears.' Then, as if he weren't on the other end of the phone, she remarked, ‘Not a day I'll easily forget. You seemed to epitomise all the brave, clever, decent young men who've fought and died for all of us. We felt very proud.'

Five minutes later Danny sat in the matron's office enjoying a cup of tea. Miss Kirk turned out to be a tall, slim, attractive woman, probably closer to sixty than fifty, with nice brown eyes and a set to her mouth that suggested she was not to be taken lightly. She spoke like Helen and obviously came from a good family.

‘Well now, Mr Dunn, yours is not a face one is likely to forget, though they seem to have done a splendid job. Did you have it – the plastic surgery – done here in Australia?' she asked without a hint of embarrassment.

Danny laughed. ‘Please call me Danny, matron. No, America. I spent many months in and out of the Barnes Hospital in St Louis. ‘Not a time I'd like to have over again, although the Americans treated me extremely well.'

‘Yes, lovely people. I spent some time as a young nurse in the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota before the war. Well now, Danny, what is this matter you wish to discuss with me?'

Danny took a deep breath, and when he spoke the words emerged in a rush. ‘My wife came in an hour ago, matron. This is our first child – we've tried for almost five years. They told me that, because of the three and a half years of severe malnutrition as a prisoner of war under the Japanese, I was likely to be sterile and then . . .' Danny paused, suddenly realising the immediate implications. ‘Helen told me she was pregnant directly after the graduation ceremony in January.' He paused again, overcome with emotion. ‘The joy I experienced was a thousand times better than anything that's ever happened to me before,' he finished quietly.

‘My dear boy,' Matron Kirk said quietly, ‘what is it we can do for you?'

When the moment came to ask, Danny couldn't think of anything reasoned or persuasive to say. ‘Matron, please let me stay here while Helen has our baby – anywhere, the toilet will be fine.' He inhaled sharply. ‘Then let me see my wife and baby just as soon as it's over. Please, Matron, I won't be the slightest trouble,' he begged.

Matron Kirk was silent for some time, then she asked, ‘Your wife, what floor is she on?'

‘Three, ward 3M.'

The matron picked up the phone, dialled a number and asked for the duty sister on the third floor. ‘Yes, sister, it's matron here. Can you tell me how Mrs Dunn's labour is progressing? [pause] Oh I see, how intense? [pause] Uh-huh. [pause] The doctor is on the floor . . . [pause] a previous delivery? How fortunate. Thank you, sister, I shall be up immediately.' She turned to Danny, smiling. ‘It all seems to be going like clockwork. Dr Leader is here, your wife has gone into intense labour, he's scrubbing up and they're preparing her right now. I shall visit myself. In the meantime you must remain here, please.'

‘Thank you, thank you, matron,' he cried, not quite able to believe his good fortune.

‘It could be a long night, Danny.' Matron Kirk pointed to an easy chair in the corner of her small office. ‘You had better make yourself comfortable. I have to do my rounds and won't be back for a while. Please do not leave this office unless you hear from me. I will instruct a nurse to call you when you may see your wife. If you need the toilet, it's four doors to the left down the hall.'

Almost an hour later Matron Kirk reappeared. She was carrying a cup of tea and a plate of ham sandwiches. Danny jumped to his feet. ‘Thank you, matron,' he said, acknowledging the tea and sandwiches but sensing that he should otherwise remain silent.

‘Sit, Danny, I have something to say to you,' Matron Kirk instructed.

He sat down, thinking she was going to send him home. If so, he decided he was going to go down on his knees and beg. Coming out of the prisoner-of-war camp he'd sworn that he'd never humble himself in front of a man again in his life, but this was a woman and it concerned Helen, who was and always would be the exception to the rule.

‘I've made a decision and I want to explain why,' Matron Kirk began. ‘What I am going to allow does not have a precedent. I want to be perfectly clear about that. With the exception of perhaps half a dozen young obstetricians who have been allowed to be present, but certainly not directly involved, while their wives gave birth, I don't believe this hospital has ever agreed to a husband being at the birth of his child.' Danny was beginning to shake. ‘I want to tell you why I have agreed to make an exception in your case,' she paused, ‘and why Dr Leader has agreed.' She paused and looked directly at Danny. ‘We feel that this is an opportunity to thank you, and the thousands of young men such as you, who fought and died to ensure that the next generation of Australians are born into a free society.'

Danny was very close to tears, his throat was constricted and all he could manage to choke out was an almost soundless, ‘Thank you.'

‘No, no, it is I who must thank you, but I must ask you to keep this away from the newspapers. While I am not acting against the law or even the official rules of this hospital, I would be setting a dangerous precedent. You do understand, don't you?'

Danny looked up at Matron Kirk. ‘Somehow, and I don't yet know how, I promise to repay your kindness, matron. Thank you.'

Matron Kirk laughed. ‘You already have, Danny. Come along now, you have to scrub up and change into a smock, cap and mask. I imagine you're not the fainting type, after what you've been through.'

At 11:33 p.m. on 24th of September, Samantha Dunn was born. It all happened with Danny thinking that at any moment Helen was going to rip his arm from his shoulder as she hung on to his hand, gasping and moaning. As Sam's head emerged, Helen let out a piercing and agonised scream. Danny's insides twisted in panic, but then, in moments, a baby was in the room, and Dr Leader was saying, ‘It's a girl!' She was briefly laid on Helen's tummy, and both her parents gazed at her in awe, and then at each other, speechless. The umbilical cord was cut and tied, and, still unwashed, Sam was placed in Danny's arms, her first squalls quietening at once.

The midwife was just taking her from his arms to ‘make her respectable' when Danny realised that Helen was still labouring. He'd read something about the afterbirth, but to his astonishment, another baby girl was placed on Helen's tummy, only six minutes after her sister: Gabrielle. Twins.

To Danny they were already the most beautiful little creatures he had ever imagined. He was permitted to sit with an exhausted Helen who was almost too weary to smile but managed to whisper, ‘Daniel Dunn, I don't know how you managed this but I love you more than I can say.' She closed her eyes and Danny wiped her brow, while telling her a hundred times over that he loved her.

‘Go to sleep, my darling . . . and thank you . . . thank you . . . thank you so much.'

Matron Kirk arrived and congratulated him and then shooed him away. He was totally worn out but jubilant, the single happiest man alive, with the nightmare behind him.

Danny called Brenda from the red phone booth outside the hospital. It was 1.30 a.m. and she answered immediately. ‘Twins!' he cried. ‘Girls!' He laughed for sheer joy.
‘
Congratulations, Grandma Dunn!' he yelled ecstatically.

‘Oh, Danny. How is Helen?' Brenda managed to say before she started to weep. His tough little Irish mother was softening with age.

‘I'm coming over, Mum.'

Danny heard a sniff then a tearful, ‘Yes . . . 
please
,' followed by a choking sob.

One minute after visiting hours began the following morning, Danny, bearing a huge bunch of pink roses, burst into ward 3M. Helen sat up in bed, a swaddled pink bundle on each arm. He'd been vaguely aware that both twins had been born with some matted darkish hair but he was not prepared for what he now saw. He'd expected – well, he didn't really know what he expected; some babies have fuzz, some are bald as eggs – but was simply not prepared for the blazing thatch of red hair above the two tiny, squished-up sleeping faces of his twin daughters. ‘Oh my gawd, redheads!' he exclaimed, laughing. ‘Two more fiery women in the family!' But that was all the levity he could manage. At the sight of Helen as a mother, he was suddenly overcome by a love so fierce that he dropped the pink ribboned roses onto the bed and fell to his knees beside her. With his head on her lap, he wept like a small child. Danny now loved three women so deeply that he knew with absolute certainty he would not hesitate to give his life for them.

In the months of Helen's pregnancy and the early months of the twins' lives, Danny and Franz completed their probationary year, the fifth and final of their legal studies. Despite their Law degrees, they were not allowed to practise on their own account until the following year. A week prior to Christmas the two young lawyers were called into the office of the senior partner, John Sharp, a veritable legend in commercial-law circles, who had concluded his review of their three years with the firm. ‘We are pleased with your progress so far, gentlemen, but, as they say in our profession, there's many a slip between mug and lip, especially when you're young. You have both shown the qualities that will lead, in the fullness of time, to the prospect of a partnership with our firm.' He paused impressively. ‘So, it gives me great pleasure to invite you to fill the positions of associate solicitors, beginning in the new year – 1952 – after the Christmas and January recess. You are both invited to share a glass of sherry with the partners in the boardroom at 6.15 sharp this evening, when I will introduce you formally and in the traditional manner to the other partners, with whom you are already well acquainted.'

Both young solicitors, by now accustomed to the firm's clubby atmosphere and their lowly order in the scheme of things, assumed suitably grateful and humble expressions and thanked the senior partner for his faith and trust in them.

However, Danny, perhaps because of his age and military past, couldn't refrain from asking, ‘Mr Sharp, I hope you don't find my question inappropriate or impertinent, but, in your opinion, what period of time would you expect to elapse before we could reasonably be expected to be elevated to partnerships in the firm?'

John Sharp, a little taken aback by so direct and perhaps, indeed, impertinent a question, thought for a moment, then replied, ‘
Hrrrmph
 . . . well, I suppose a little ambition in a young lawyer is not such a bad thing, as long as we allow some humility to prevail. I was made a partner quite quickly, in a little over eighteen years.' He chortled to himself.
‘I recall at the time many of the more senior partners thought it a rather precipitate appointment, ha ha.'

Franz shot a quick glance at Danny. ‘Well, sir, that certainly sets us a very difficult challenge,' he said.