Fiona McArthur - Baby for the Midwife

He stripped off his elegant neckpiece. ‘I do have a cord tie.’

She giggled and then covered her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. I’m feeling light-headed with relief and I’m being silly.’

He pulled a snowy white teatowel from the bottle compartment and folded it. ‘Pop this between your legs.’ He handed the towel to her. ‘Let’s just settle for that one knot in the cord with the tie and we’ll bundle it all up still connected and they can sort it out at the hospital. Are you bleeding?’

She shook her head. ‘Not since she started to feed.’

He marvelled at the wonders of nature without the usual drugs given at the end of labour. ‘Thor looks about five pounds. How early is she by your dates?’

‘Four weeks and two days.’ He’d hazard a guess she was counting days from conception.

‘Did ultrasounds confirm those dates?’

She lifted her chin at him. ‘Ever the doctor. Why do so many obstetricians think ultrasounds know more than the mother?’

He chuckled at that. ‘True. Sometimes ultrasounds can cloud issues that don’t need clouding. And other times an ultrasound can clarify things.’

‘Hmmph,’ Georgia said. ‘You can’t beat good clinical skills. Technology is one of the things I won’t get bogged down in when I start to practise again.’

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone hmmph. ‘We won’t get into that discussion or maybe we’ll save it till later.’

‘And my baby’s name is not Thor.’

‘Wowser.’ He settled back into the seat as all the chores that could be done had been done. The rest could wait.

He was a mess and her dress had seen better days too. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck from when he’d pulled his tie off. The long sleeves had been hiked unevenly up to his elbows and he cupped his hands on one knee and decided he’d definitely have to throw out the suit.

He looked across at her. Actually, she looked pretty good. ‘So what are you going to call her?’

She laughed at that and he loved the way she threw her whole face into the laugh. No attempt to save on laughter lines and she did have a lot to be thankful for.

‘What do you call a child that arrived like this and roared so vigorously at birth?’ She looked down at the now content baby. ‘I could call her Maxine.’

She was delightful and with a thud he remem-bered he was almost married. ‘That would really set the cat among the pigeons,’ he drawled.

He saw the moment she remembered Tayla. ‘Oh, my God. Your wedding. I’m so sorry.’

‘Later. It will be a drama in due time. No use thinking about it now.’

TAYLA’S wild eyes were slitted shafts of fury in her narrow face as she stormed into Georgia’s hospital room. Anger vibrated off her in waves and even the baby stirred in her sleep with the malevolence emanating from Tayla.

Max thought it all lost a little credibility with the feathers.

Normally Tayla was a very attractive woman but in this instance he decided he might have had a lucky escape. He stayed motionless, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed, and waited for his fiancée to see her cousin was not alone.

Tayla saw no one except Georgia. ‘You had to do it. Had to ruin everything. If anyone could do it, it would be you! I knew you shouldn’t have been my matron of honour but my father had to have his way. Well I’m not the only one who’s a laughing stock. Serves him right.’

‘I’m so sorry, Tayla.’ Georgia wilted against the pillows and closed her eyes, and Max realised that the ridiculous behaviour of Tayla was upsetting the new mother.

‘You will be!’Tayla spat, and Max stepped away from the wall.

‘That’s enough.’ His voice was very quiet but sliced off Tayla’s words as if he’d swathed his arm through the air like a conductor. Tayla froze before turning slowly to face him.

‘Max?’ She stamped her foot and another tiny white feather puffed into the air. ‘I knew you must have stayed with her.’

‘Obviously,’ he drawled, and then regretted his provocativeness for Georgia’s sake. Outside work interference it was probably the first time he’d made the effort to check Tayla. Maybe he had let every-thing slide too much in his obsession to land this job.

‘Look at your suit!’ Tayla was slow to see the dangerous glint in Max’s eye. ‘And why did you have to be the one to go with her? There were half a dozen obstetricians there but, no, you had to leave me at the altar like a fool.’

Max glanced across at Georgia and the sleeping baby. ‘I’m sorry about your wedding, Tayla,’ he said. ‘But perhaps in private and later.’

Tayla faltered and stretched her face into a smile, finally connecting Max’s displeasure. ‘It was your wedding, too.’ The plaintive note sounded clearly. ‘And the magazine was there taking photos. No wonder we couldn’t find you when the ambulance turned up. When it was called off my father searched everywhere for you.’

‘Your father would have done better to spend his time checking on his new great-niece.’ Max raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m sure you, too, were concerned that Georgia’s baby almost lost her life.’

Tayla glanced at the baby in Georgia’s arms with barely concealed disinterest. ‘Of course.’ She dragged her arm across her face. ‘It’s been such a horrible morning. I think they will still print the photos from the church but as a disaster now. I’ve been quite distraught.’ And quietly she began to sob.

Max dropped his jaw in amazement and Georgia shifted her baby up to her shoulder and slid to the edge of the bed.

In sudden clarity Max realised if he didn’t step in Georgia would rise from her bed to comfort her cousin and take all the blame for something that no one could have prevented.

‘Stay there, Georgia. Rest. You’ve had a big morning, too. I’ll take Tayla away and calm her down.’

Tayla lifted her head and he admitted she cried very prettily but some of the sterling reasons he’d had for marrying her had strangely seeped away.

‘Come on, Tayla,’ he said more gently. She really had been excited about the magazine shoot and he needed to be more patient. ‘I’ll make you a coffee in the consultants’ tearoom and we can talk.’ He turned her towards the door and glanced over his shoulder at the woman in the bed.