Margaret Barker - Greek Doctor Claims His Bride

“They must have been delighted to have you here.”

He nodded. “Yes. After a while I was offered the newly created post of Medical Director. We’ve had to expand in recent years because of the long tourist season from April to November. Better boats, more tourist facilities…”

His voice trailed away. He hoped he’d helped to justify what had happened since he’d walked away from her. She’d asked him to go, but maybe, just maybe she hadn’t meant it.

He gave a deep sigh. There he went again, giving himself hope that he could turn the clock back to the time when they’d been so idyllically happy together.

“Dr Manolis.” The young waiter was standing beside his chair. “There’s a lady in the kitchen who wants to speak to you. She’s climbed all the way up the kali strata to find you. Her granddaughter is having a baby in her house and there’s some problem that I…”

The young man paused in embarrassment. Manolis was standing now, his hand on the young waiter’s shoulders.

“I’ll come and see her. In the kitchen, you say?”

Tanya was also on her feet. She’d heard what had been said and her medical training was taking over. She was holding her jet-lag in check as she followed Manolis up the three worn old stone steps that led from the main restaurant part of the taverna into the ancient kitchen with the moussandra platform in the high ceiling where Giorgio and his wife had first slept when the taverna had been their home before the six children had arrived.

The agitated elderly lady was sitting on a chair sipping a brandy that Giorgio had poured for her.

It took only a couple of minutes to elicit the medical information they needed. Manolis ascertained that there was someone with the woman who was in labour before telling the grandmother to stay where she was. Someone from the hospital would come to collect her later. Yes, he knew the house where she lived.

As they hurried down the kali strata , Manolis was on his mobile phone, speaking to the hospital maternity section, giving them instructions, telling them to send a midwife, a stretcher with a couple of porters, and have an ambulance standing by at the bottom of the kali strata in case an immediate transfer to hospital was required, as well as the medication and instruments he would require if that happened.

Tanya was trying desperately to keep up with him but the ancient cobblestones beneath her feet were treacherous and slippery and the moon was covered in clouds again. Manolis, sensing her difficulty, took hold of her hand.

“Nearly there,” Tanya said in a breathless, thankful voice. “I know the house where this family lives. My father used to say the houses in this area are in the worst place to get to for an emergency. Neither up nor down.”

“Exactly! And yet nobody around here has a phone,” he said in exasperation as he reached for the old brass door knocker.

The door was opened almost immediately.

“Doctor! Thank goodness you are here. My daughter…”

Manolis and Tanya stepped straight into the living room where the patient was lying on a bed. A low moaning sound came from her as Manolis gently placed his hand on her abdomen.

“It’s OK, Helene. I’m just going to see how your baby’s doing.”

Tanya had immediately recognised Helene as an old friend from her schooldays. Helene smiled through the pain as she recognised Tanya, holding out her hands towards her.

One of the hospital porters arrived shortly afterwards, carrying the Entonax machine that Manolis had ordered. He explained briefly that the maternity unit was very busy and they weren’t able to send a midwife yet but that one would arrive as soon as she was free.

Manolis nodded. “That’s OK. Tanya will assist me.”

While he was examining the patient Tanya fixed up the machine and placed the mask over Helene’s face.

“Breathe deeply into this mask, Helene,” Tanya said in Greek. “That’s going to help the pain. No, don’t push at the moment, Manolis will tell you when. I know it’s hard for you. You’re being very brave.”

Helene clung to Tanya’s hand as if her life depended on it.

Manolis began whispering to Tanya in English. He was totally calm and in control of the situation but she recognised the urgency in his voice.

“The baby is in breech position. I’m going to have to deliver it as soon as possible because it’s showing signs of distress and the heartbeat is getting fainter. Take care of Helene and don’t let her push yet. I’ve tried to turn…No, it’s too late, I’ll have to deliver the baby now. Ask Helene to push now so I can get the baby’s buttocks through…Yes, that’s fine…No hold it for a moment—I’ll need to do an episiotomy. Pass me that sterile pack.” He took out a scalpel and some local anaesthetic injection and performed the procedure.

It seemed like an age as Tanya, almost holding her breath, kept her cool with the patient.

“Manolis has everything under control, Helene.”

Please, God, she thought. Don’t let her lose this baby. She knew the anguish of losing her own baby and wouldn’t wish that on anybody. Helene had carried this baby to full term and she couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing it at this late stage.

“The baby’s buttocks are through, Tanya,” Manolis said. “You can ask Helene to push. One last push should…There, brilliant!”

As he lifted the slippery baby up it gave a faint mewling cry, rather like a kitten that had been disturbed from its warm, cosy sleep.

“Let me see, let me see my baby!” Helene held out her arms.

“In a moment, Helene,” Tanya said, gently. “Manolis will—”

“Tanya, will you cut the cord while I put a couple of stitches in?” Manolis said quietly.

Tanya quickly scrubbed up. Taking the surgical scissors from the sterile pack, she cut the cord and wrapped the protesting infant in a clean dressing towel.

“You’ve got a little boy, Helene,” she said gently as she put the baby in her arms. Tears sprang to her eyes as she saw the wonderful first meeting of mother and son. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and held back the tears. She had to stay professional and think only of her patient. But she sensed that Manolis was looking at her. He was standing beside her now and had put a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up into his eyes and saw they were moist and knew he was thinking of their baby. She swallowed hard. How could she have hardened her heart and told him to leave her? Why had he not understood in the first place what a miscarriage did to a woman? Would they ever recover from what might have been? Would it ever be possible to repair the damage they’d done to each other?

The future was impossible to predict. She would take one day at a time, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted to stay here on Ceres for a long time, whatever happened. This was where she belonged.

She looked around the room, which had become rather crowded during the time that she and Manolis had been taking care of their patient. Standing near the door that led straight out on to the kali strata was a midwife, two porters and a young man who now identified himself as Lefteris, the baby’s father. The midwife had held him back when he’d arrived a few moments ago.

“Baby’s father is here, Manolis,” Tanya said. “Is it OK if…?”

Too late! The young father had already sprung forward to embrace Helene and his son.

“We’ll need to do some tests on your baby, Lefteris,” Manolis said gently after a short while. “He had a rough passage into the world and we need to check him over.” He smiled. “Although from the way he’s crying, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.”