Читать книгу Midwife's Christmas Proposal - Fiona McArthur - Страница 11

THE DINNER PARTY was a reasonable success. Maeve smiled and said the right things but still kept her distance and seemed a little flat to Simon. His stepmother was her own gorgeous self and treated both young women as if they were long-term friends of hers, and his father said very little but smiled every time his eyes rested on his wife or daughters.

Louisa was in her element because she loved dinner parties and seeing the family together. She was always happiest when children were around.

And young Tara, dressed in skin-tight, very stressed jeans that showed glimpses of skin beneath the ragged material moulded to her lush little body, drew his eyes like a magnet every time she walked past to the fridge on some errand for Louisa.

His father came to stand beside him. ‘Mia says you seem to get on well with Tara.’

‘She’s easy to get along with.’

Tara laughed at something Louisa whispered as she walked past again with a platter of fruit for dessert and both men sneaked a glance.

Angus looked away first. ‘I think our Tara’s had an interesting life. She’s a tough little cookie, on the outside at least.’

Simon glanced at his father’s face. ‘Lots of people have tough lives.’

‘Guess so.’ Angus took a sip of his beer. ‘What happened to Julia?’

‘Didn’t work out. Said I didn’t pay her enough attention. Let my work come between us.’

‘Did you?’

‘Maybe.’ Simon thought about it. ‘Definitely. Spent a lot of time apologising for leaving and heading into work. Started to enjoy work more than home and she found another guy.’

‘Took me a while to find Mia. It will happen to you one day and you’ll recognise it.’

They both looked at Angus’s wife. ‘If I find a woman like Mia I’ll be very happy.’

‘Would you settle here?’

‘So this is a job interview?’

‘Cheeky blighter. Would you?’

‘Not yet. But in the future I’m not ruling it out.’

Angus nodded then added innocently, ‘Can you do three days for me, starting Monday?’

Simon laughed. ‘I knew this was leading somewhere. Why?’

‘Seeing as you’re here, and Mia’s had a big birthday last week, I thought I might take her up to Brisbane to do Christmas shopping. She loves it. Take her and the girls for a mini-holiday.’

Simon laughed. ‘Can’t see you shopping with Christmas music in the background.’

He grimaced. ‘It’s only a couple of days. I’m going to sit back and watch my women. Need more of that when you get to my age.’

‘Poor old man.’

‘Absolutely. So, will you?’

Simon had done the occasional shift in the small hospital over the last few years when one of the senior partners had had to go away, and he’d enjoyed most of the small-town country feel of it. Angus knew that. ‘Sure. Why not? Andy will be point me in the right direction if needed. Haven’t done much general medicine for a few years, though.’

‘You’ve got a young brain. You’ll manage. And it’s almost December. Louisa wants the decorations up.’

Simon laughed. ‘Thanks. And no doubt you’ll bring her back something new I’ll have to assemble.’

Tara walked past again and Simon’s eyes followed. Angus bit his lip and smiled into his drink.

The next morning Tara heard Simon go out not long after daylight. It would be pleasantly cool before the heat of the day, she thought as she pulled her sheet up, the blanket having been discarded on the floor, and she wondered drowsily where he was going.

And then, as her fantasies drifted, wondered what he was wearing, wondered if he wore his collar open so she’d see his lovely strong neck and chest. Funny, that—she’d never had a throat fetish before.

She grinned to herself and snuggled down further. Nice make-believe. And Mia was amazing. They all were, and yesterday, as far as Tara was concerned, had been an intriguing insight into the Campbell family and Simon in particular.

Watching the dynamics between Simon and his father had been fascinating. She certainly looked at Angus differently after some of the exploits Mia had mentioned. Who would have known?

She’d never seen such equal footing between father and son but, then, her experience was limited to snatches of dysfunctional family life. Maybe it was because Simon had made it to twenty before he’d even met his biological father. Angus was certainly proud of him and the feeling looked to be mutual. And both of them obviously adored Mia and the girls.

She’d have felt a bit like the Little Match Girl looking in the Christmas window if it hadn’t been for Maeve, who, despite looking like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine, had looked more lost than she had. Why was that?

Maeve was who she should be concentrating her thoughts on. Especially if she agreed to join Tara’s caseload.

An hour later she wandered down to the kitchen and Maeve, immaculate in designer maternity wear and perfectly made up, was there, picking at a piece of toast as if she wanted to eat it one crumb at a time. Perhaps her pregnancy hormones still gave her nausea in the mornings. Tara had seen lots of women like that well into their last trimester of pregnancy.

‘Morning, all.’ Friendly but not too pushy, she included Maeve and Louisa in her smile as she sat down. Louisa liked to fuss and judging by the tension in the room Maeve didn’t appreciate it.

‘Hello, dear.’ Louisa cast her a relieved glance. ‘What are you doing today?’

‘Have a young mums’ class this afternoon but happy to do whatever if you need something, Louisa.’

‘No. I’m off to bingo with a friend down at the hall and I wondered if you and Maeve could fix your own lunches.’

‘No problem.’ She smiled at the younger woman. ‘We’ll manage, won’t we, Maeve?’

The girl barely looked up. ‘Of course.’

‘Still nauseous?’ Tara could see she looked a little pale around the cheeks.

Maeve grimaced. ‘Getting worse, not better. And I’m starting to get this insane itch that’s driving me mad.’

Tara frowned. A tiny alarm pinged in her brain with the symptoms but she let it lie for a moment. ‘Not fun. What have you tried?’

‘Pretty well everything.’ She shrugged. ‘Pressure-point armbands. Ginger. Sips of cold water. Sips of hot water for nausea.’ She absently scratched her belly through her shirt. ‘And just calamine for the itch but I only put it on the places you can’t see. I never liked pink as a kid and it’s too embarrassing to be painted pink all over.’

Tara laughed. ‘That’s the thing with midwives. We know all the things we tell other women and it sucks when it doesn’t work.’

‘Embarrassing really.’ The young woman looked a little less tense now that Tara had acknowledged Maeve knew her stuff.

‘I imagine being pregnant would expand your thirst for remedies?’

Maeve rolled her eyes and even smiled. ‘You have no idea. I’ve read everything I can find on common complaints of pregnancy.’

‘I’ll have to get you to brush me up on them later.’

Tara was glad to hear that Maeve really did have a sense of humour. ‘Makes you wonder what the women thought when it didn’t work for them either.’ They smiled at each other.

Maeve nodded. ‘I’ll clarify next time. Works most of the time.’

‘Have you had a chance to sit down with someone and talk about the actual plans you have for labour?’

It was a reasonable question, considering she’d just moved to a new centre for care, but Tara felt the walls go up from across the table.

Maeve shot her a glance. ‘You mean antenatal classes? Simon been talking to you?’

‘I’m guessing Simon talks to everyone.’ A little bit ambiguous. ‘But Mia asked, yes. I usually run a younger mums’ class this week and I thought seeing as you were a midwife you might be interested in helping me—from a pregnant woman’s perspective. But, then, you might prefer the idea of just a chat, and I’d be happy to do that if you did want one if you’re not already teed up with someone else?’

‘Sorry. I’m just a bit narky lately. Everything is a mess.’

Life. Didn’t she know it could do that! ‘Oh, yeah. It gets like that sometimes. I’m an expert at it. Plus your itch and nausea would impact on anyone’s day, let alone someone carrying a watermelon everywhere.’

Maeve did laugh then. ‘Feels like it. And it feels like this pregnancy is never going to end, but I’m going to be patient and not let anyone push me into something I don’t want.’

‘Good on you. Who were you thinking of seeing here?’

Maeve shrugged. ‘Don’t know. As long as it’s low key I don’t care. I saw the doctor Simon teed me up with a few times but last month he started talking about induction of labour and possible epidurals and maybe even Caesareans. I couldn’t believe it, so I told Simon I was out of there. He wouldn’t hear of a home birth and we compromised on Lyrebird Lake Birth Centre.’

‘And the father of the child?’

Maeve looked away. ‘Conspicuous by his absence. And I don’t want to look back on this birth and regret it. I’m already regretting enough about this pregnancy. I need to have some control and I wasn’t going to get it at Simon’s hospital.’

Tara was a hundred per cent agreeable to that. ‘Go, you, for standing up for yourself and your baby.’ Tara wondered if she could offer without putting too much pressure on her.

‘There’s three doctors here who do antenatal care, and four midwives. If you think you’d be happy on a midwifery programme, you just need to pick someone. I’ve two women due in the next fortnight but apart from home visits I’m free to take on new women. You could meet the other midwives tomorrow but keep it in mind. You’re probably due for tests around now anyway.’

Maeve looked across and smiled with a shyness Tara guessed was way out of character. ‘Actually, that would be great.’

‘You sure?’

Maeve looked relieved. ‘Very. And we can talk about the labour then too.’

‘Fine. We’ll wander down to the clinic after morning tea, check you and baby out, and get all the papers sorted with the stuff you brought. If you change your mind after I’ve nosed my way through your medical and social history I can hand you on to someone else.’

‘Lord. Social history. And isn’t all that a disaster? Sometimes I feel like I’ll never get sorted. I never used to be like this.’

‘Sympathy.’ Tara smiled in complete agreement. ‘I was pretty lost before I came here. The good news is that you’re female so you’ll still come out on top.’

Maeve blinked and then smiled. ‘Okay, then. Must remember that for my clever brother.’

‘He seems nice.’

‘Too nice.’ Both girls looked at each other, were obviously thinking of their previous boyfriends who had been anything but, and laughed. Ten seconds later they heard footsteps leaping up the back stairs and Simon appeared behind the back porch screen door. Of course both of them struggled to control their mirth.

‘What’s so funny?’ The door shut quietly behind him and he looked from one to the other, brows raised, fine sweat across his brow. Obviously he’d been running.

‘Nothing.’ In unison.

He shook his head at them. ‘Okay. Girl talk. You want to go for a swim, Maeve?’

Tara saw her face change. Become shuttered. ‘No, thanks. I’m catching up on my emails.’

‘Tara?’

She could just imagine Simon in swimmers. Wouldn’t she just. ‘No, thanks.’

‘You sure?’

Maeve chimed in. ‘Go. It’s your day off. We can do that other thing when you come back. There’s hours before then.’

Tara didn’t understand the wall Maeve had erected between herself and her brother. If she had a brother like Simon she’d be all over him, but there was probably stuff she didn’t know. ‘Fine. Thanks. I love to swim.’ She looked at him. Saw him glance at his watch. ‘I’m guessing you want to go now?’

Simon nodded and he seemed happy enough that she’d agreed to come. She’d hate to think all these people were forcing her on him but what the heck. She’d enjoy it while it lasted.

‘Five minutes enough time? Out the front?’ he said.

‘I’ll be there.’

Simon watched Tara towel her shoulders vigorously and then rub shapely calves and stand on one leg and dry her toes.

He suffered a brief adolescent urge to metamorphose into her towel. Apart from her delightful breasts her body was firm and supple and he suspected she would feel incredibly sleek and smooth in his arms.