Margaret Barker - A Family Worth Waiting For - The Midwife's Miracle Baby

Hell, she looks tired, he thought. He knew he shouldn’t be, but he was secretly pleased that sleep hadn’t come easily to her either. Good. He’d hate to think he was the only one suddenly afflicted with insomnia.

‘So pleased you could join us.’ Martin’s sarcastic comment intruded on Campbell’s thoughts.

Deciding to let that one slip by, Campbell guessed that calm and reason was definitely lacking in their conversation. Luckily, he was very good at calm and reason.

‘Is there a problem here?’

‘You could say that,’ snorted Martin. ‘Were you aware that Sister West delivered a breech baby at the centre on Friday afternoon?’

‘Yes.’

‘Were you aware that this contravenes the birth centre protocol? A protocol that Sister West herself implemented?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is exactly what I feared would happen. Give them some autonomy and she takes it upon herself to risk the life of a mother and her baby, all in the name of natural birth.’

‘I don’t think that’s entirely fair, Martin.’ Calm and reason.

‘Fair! Fair? How fair would it have been if complications had developed and the baby had died? They would have sued us from here to breakfast-time, and quite rightly, too.’

‘The baby didn’t die.’ Claire tried to keep the exasperation from her voice.

‘Lucky.’

‘No, not lucky. Educated.’

‘Oh … you think you know more than me, Sister West? I’ve been delivering babies for nearly forty years. Your experience is nothing next to mine.’

‘Now, wait a minute—’ Campbell interjected.

‘Campbell, I don’t need you to defend me,’ she snapped. ‘If Martin could just listen for a minute instead of ranting and raving—’

‘I have not ranted or raved,’ he blustered.

‘Martin, I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise since I got here.’

Martin glared at her and sat down huffily.

‘Firstly, I made every attempt to get Shirley to Labour Ward but that baby wanted out. Would you rather she gave birth in the lift or a corridor?’

‘I think anything is preferable to delivering it yourself.’

‘I am perfectly capable of delivering a breech baby. I’ve delivered more than my fair share. I assessed the patient and I assessed the risks. I’m a good midwife, Martin. You may have more years than me but it doesn’t negate my experience. Quite frankly, I’m insulted that you would think so.’

Campbell sat back and watched Martin squirm. She was doing it again. Making a speech. Just like the first day he had met her. And his body was as predictable as ever. Man, how did she do this to him?

She was standing her ground, stabbing the air with her finger to emphasise her points. Her brown eyes boiled like hot mud pools and her chest rose and fell quickly, sucking in much-needed oxygen for her brain to formulate her next words.

His brain, on the other hand, was suffering from the usual reduction of oxygen as all the blood rushed to another part of his anatomy. Stop this! Rhetoric shouldn’t be sexy. Heaven help him.

‘Secondly, a complete novice could have delivered that baby. We really did nothing. He all but delivered himself.’

‘We?’ Martin queried, sitting forward.

‘Yes, we. Campbell was at the centre when Shirley arrived.’

‘You were there?’ Martin demanded.

‘I’ve been trying to tell you that from the minute you hauled me in here,’ Claire snapped.

‘And is that your assessment?’ Martin asked Campbell. ‘There was no time to get the patient to Labour Ward?’

Campbell noticed Claire bristling, drawing herself up to launch another verbal attack. ‘I absolutely agree with Claire. Little Davy’s bottom was well and truly out.’

‘Well, if you feel it was an unavoidable situation, I shall just have to trust your judgement.’

‘It’d be nice just once to enjoy the same trust.’ Claire’s icy voice conveyed her displeasure. Campbell caught the irritated look she shot him. Even that wasn’t enough to dampen his raging response.

Martin chose to ignore her. ‘I want written incident reports on my desk about this by the end of the week from both of you. And I still intend to make a full report to the board.’

‘Well, you do what you have to do, Dr Shaw,’ Claire said wearily. ‘I’ve got a centre to run.’

Claire was too exhausted to even slam the door after her. Too tired to acknowledge how wonderful it had been to have Campbell on her side. She’d expected to feel awkwardness after their argument on Saturday, but she was honestly too tired to care.

She couldn’t remember ever having felt so tired. The adrenaline that had been pumping around her system during their heated discussion had left her feeling even more depleted. All she wanted was to get out of there. She could almost feel her mattress beneath her.

If only it wasn’t this morning she so desperately needed sleep. Mary went to respite care until mid-afternoon and her father hosted a regular poker game at his house with some old friends.

Claire knew they wouldn’t disturb her. Nothing short of a nuclear explosion would wake her today, but she also knew her father would insist on cancelling. He had so few fun times lately she didn’t want him to sacrifice the one thing he looked forward to all week. He’d already sacrificed so much of his life.

She pushed the lift button, trying to work out a solution with a brain shrouded in the heavy fog of fatigue.

‘Claire! Hang on.’

The lift pinged and Claire got in, holding the doors open for Campbell.

‘Are you OK? You look done in.’

‘Too many sleepless nights.’ She shrugged dismissively and then blushed when she realised she’d drawn attention to their night together.

‘Me, too,’ he agreed quietly.

Despite her tiredness, warmth suffused her body. He was so close! If she just shut her eyes and leaned a little, she could rest her head against his chest. His magnificent chest.

‘Every time I close my eyes, I think of you and me and Friday night, and then I can’t sleep.’ His voice was soft and she yearned to fall into it.

Silence filled the space between them. Claire felt herself sway towards him. She despaired at how her body still responded to the pull of his, despite overwhelming exhaustion. So much for awkwardness!

The lift arrived at their floor and the doors opened. Saved by the bell! Wake up, Claire! Damn, this conversation was too hard to have when her energy reserves were at zero. It needed to take a different direction.

‘Well, lucky you,’ she quipped, striding from the lift. ‘At least you’ve had a chance to get to bed. I’ve had about two hours’ sleep in total. I was at the centre all weekend, delivering babies. I’d just done all the paperwork on my six a.m. delivery and was almost out the door when I was summoned.’

‘No wonder you’re almost out on your feet!’

‘Three days off now. I’m going to sleep like the dead.’ She half smiled and stumbled. He caught her arm and steadied her before she fell on her backside.

Campbell resisted the urge to pull her close. She smelt fantastic and the feel of her skin beneath his hands was glorious. They stood stock still while the hubbub of hospital life went on around them. She looked at him through sleep-hazed eyes, her lips parted, strands of her dark hair stuck to her lipstick.

‘Can I do something for you?’ he asked quietly, brushing the stray hairs from her mouth with one finger.

Yes. Pick me up and carry me away from here to a big nice soft bed somewhere and lie with me. Claire didn’t know if lack of sleep was making her delirious, but suddenly a solution to her earlier problem was standing right in front of her.

‘Do you mean that?’ Some of the fog was clearing from her brain.