Читать книгу Pregnant Midwife: Father Needed - Fiona McArthur - Страница 8

‘GOOD morning, Mia.’ Angus stood as she entered the breakfast room and she didn’t bother to tell him to sit down. Mia wondered if she would have been disappointed if he hadn’t risen. How quickly she could adapt to chivalry.

‘Morning,’ she said briefly.

After saying he’d stay for the wedding, Angus had said very little else at the lunch and despite Simon’s jokes it had been a long and painful affair. She was still cross with Angus’s poor effort, although Louisa had spoken to her later and raved about how much better that meeting had gone than the previous night.

And to think she’d wanted to be a fly on the wall the first night. No doubt the flies had left the room bored witless.

The aroma of his special coffee beans teased her nose and she sniffed reluctantly. At least he made excellent coffee and she wondered if he’d be offended if she wasted it just to sniff.

When she sat down she could feel the weight of his appraisal and she looked up and glared at him. His eyes widened in surprise and she looked away. As well you might wonder, mister, she grumbled silently to herself. Poor Louisa must dread running into him.

Who did he think he was anyway, putting a damper on the whole house? Her control snapped. ‘So what happened between you and your father to make you so cold towards him now?’

One thick black brow twitched. ‘You do like to dance around a subject, don’t you?’

‘I’m not in the mood to play games this morning, Angus. If I hadn’t been called into work after lunch I would have said this yesterday. Now I’ve lost sleep over how upset I was for Ned and Louisa.’

He sat back in the chair and considered her. ‘I’m sorry you lost sleep about something that’s really not your concern.’

Snooty pig, Mia thought. Well, someone had to stick up for Ned and Louisa. ‘Because it’s not my concern is the very reason I can say what I like. You can freeze me out, but the cold will bite back.’

‘It’s all a Storm in a coffee cup,’ he quipped, and she rolled her eyes.

Spare me, Mia thought. ‘Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard jokes about my name in my lifetime?’

His face was deadpan. ‘Storm by name and storm by nature.’

She inhaled the steam and it was as good as she remembered. He’d be gone by the time she could really enjoy the stuff. ‘You won’t divert me. I want to know what happened between you and Ned.’

The expression on his face didn’t change, but she had the feeling she’d actually penetrated the thick barriers he’d surrounded himself with. So she wasn’t surprised he told her—just with the brevity of the telling, and the fact that he sounded like a bored newsreader discussing a famine he had no interest in.

‘My mother left my father when I was sixteen. She ran away with another man and I blamed my father because I didn’t want to blame my mother.’

‘Poor Ned,’ she said.

He inclined his head, but she couldn’t tell if he agreed or not. He went on. ‘Then I slept with Simon’s mother and she fell pregnant and my father warned me she wouldn’t stay with me either. After a heated discussion with my father, Simon’s mother and I left, and I haven’t spoken to him since he told me never to return.’

That explained that, but something still wasn’t right. ‘If you knew Simon’s mother was pregnant, how come you didn’t know about Simon?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Because as far as I was aware he wasn’t born alive.’

She thought about that. Someone had done the dirty on Angus.

He rolled his shoulders and rocked his head from side to side as if his neck was stiff, and she wondered if he’d slept at all last night either. Maybe she should offer to massage his neck. That thought started a slow burn she didn’t want to think about and she took another sip of her coffee.

In all fairness to Angus, though, Mia thought, it took two to fight. ‘Did Ned never contact you?’

‘He had no idea where I was. For a while there in the air force I wasn’t contactable anyway.’ He stood up, properly filled her cup, and then carried his plate to the sink where he rinsed it.

That little action, a tiny thing that Mark had never done in the whole time they’d been together, dissolved any last remnants of anger from yesterday.

That Angus topped up her coffee, regardless of the fact she wouldn’t finish it and had put a plate in the sink because it was not her job, or Louisa’s, to look after him, did a strange thing to her stomach. Made her look at Angus again in a much more favourable light. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice her frozen stare.

He had to have other faults, she decided. ‘Tell me about when you left home with Simon’s mother.’ Something he did must have driven her away. ‘Didn’t you know she was unhappy?’

He held up his hands in surrender. ‘I must have missed it. She was pregnant! I thought she was moody from the pregnancy. But gradually I began to see I was more excited about the pregnancy than she was. I certainly hadn’t expected to have a child at twenty, but when it happened I actually got used to the idea I would be a father, planned to be a good one, and really looked forward to the birth. But we had little money after bills and she missed the comfort she was accustomed to. Her parents owned the large hotel on the lake in those days. They kept telling her I was too young to look after her properly.’

‘So why did you think she’d lost the baby back then?’

He didn’t answer immediately, and she thought he wasn’t going to, but he did. ‘I never knew how it happened. Could only imagine and, of course, you imagine the worst. It started one day when she said she was going home for a visit to her parents and two days later she rang me to say she’d had a stillbirth. A son. I’d spent the last two nights painting a cot and had bought things for the baby to surprise her and now our baby was gone. Lost. And I’d never even seen him and never would. I was devastated.’

He looked at her and despite the lack of tell-tale signs she knew those memories had shaped the man.

‘I think I know why most people heal better when they see and hold a child that has died. When I was in disaster areas I was just as anxious to retrieve those that had died for that reason. To make it possible for a parent to hold that child, hug them, for what was going to be the last time they had the chance to parent that child. I got none of that and I really wanted it. I wanted to see my son, but she said the funeral had come and gone.’

He shook his head. ‘But Simon didn’t die in utero. He was growing up with another father all the time. As far as I knew, he was gone. I’ve always wondered what he looked like. She told me she just wanted to forget so I thought the worst. And, of course, she didn’t come back.’

‘Why didn’t you return to the lake to see her later?’

‘She told me she didn’t want me to follow her home.’

Poor Angus. To be locked out of sharing his grief while being estranged from his own family as well.

He looked away and she could see he regretted his disclosures. She hoped that now he’d spoken about them he might begin to heal. And surely it would help now he could at least begin to be a second father to Simon.

‘So nineteen years later Simon just appeared?’

‘So it seems. In fact, she hadn’t miscarried, just met and decided on her future husband, and her pact included telling Simon the other man was his real father.’

He shrugged. ‘I might not have made it back to the lake if Simon hadn’t forced my hand. So here I am. Now, if you don’t mind, that subject is closed.’

Mia subsided, sniffed, and her olfactory cells celebrated. ‘So where…’ he turned and stared her down, daring her to ask another question and she resisted the temptation and grinned ‘…do you get your coffee beans?’

He froze, his cheek twitched, but no smile. But nearly, buster, she thought. I nearly had you.

‘Touché,’ he said. ‘Shades of me yesterday. You had me going then.’

She smiled into the cup. ‘Yep.’

‘You realize, of course, it’s your fault I’ll have seven days in Lyrebird Lake.’

‘Your choice.’

‘Your suggestion.’

Mia shrugged. ‘I just said you should. You don’t know me from Adam.’

‘Oh, I think I’d know the difference between you and Adam.’ He looked her up and down and suddenly she remembered her thoughts of him that first day he’d arrived. The bathroom, she could feel the steam on her skin, and hear the sound from the door that he’d kick shut with both of them inside. She could feel the heat steal up her cheeks and a sudden flutter in her stomach made her push out her chair in a sudden ungainly rush.

His voice followed her to the door. ‘So what are you doing this morning?’

Brain? Where was her brain? Then it began to work again. ‘I’ve a breathing and relaxation class with a new couple.’ Thank goodness for the excuse, she thought.

‘Breathing. I’m very interested in that. Did my obstetric rotation years ago and there’s something very special about the moment of birth, especially a calm one.’

Where was this going? Mia thought warily.

She’d been right to be wary. ‘Any chance of tagging along to listen?’ Angus said. ‘One of the medics at the base and his wife rave about breathing.’

Her stomach dropped. What a load of rubbish, she thought as she paused with her back to him, but could she think of a single good reason why he couldn’t come? Nope. She sighed. ‘I’m leaving at ten o’clock on the dot.’

‘This is Angus. He’s Dr Ned’s son and works for the government in disaster relief.’

Angus held out his hand to Paul, and to Mia’s surprise he even smiled at Josephine. ‘I hope you don’t mind me listening in. I’m very interested in Mia’s relaxation theories.’

Paul shrugged easily. ‘No problem. The government, eh? I’m up at the mine. Site manager. My wife Josephine is a schoolteacher. Do you fly?’

Angus nodded. ‘Mostly helicopters, or nothing bigger than a twin, anyway. What about you?’

Paul looked proudly at his wife. ‘Jo and I met at the aero club. She restored her own Tiger Moth and I fly an Auster.’

The smile Angus showed them was the most genuine Mia had seen. ‘You both fly rag and tube aeroplanes? That’s great. Love to come up with you one day. Maybe you’d like a trip if the chopper comes down tomorrow. They’ll be dropping me back late afternoon and we could go up then.’

‘Paul can go.’ Jo looked down at her tummy ruefully. ‘I’m too fat to climb into helicopters.’

‘Maybe I’d better not go.’ Paul looked forlorn at the chance the treat might go away and Jo shook her head.

‘You go, but if I go into labour while you’re away I’ll kill you.’

‘When are you due?’ Angus checked his watch for the date, as if Jo would have the baby then and there, and they all laughed.

‘You’ve got two weeks.’ Jo patted her stomach. ‘So you should be fine.’

He looked at Mia, who wasn’t quite tapping her foot, but glanced at her own watch, and he stepped back. ‘Better fade into the background.’

‘Sorry, Mia.’ Paul smiled easily. ‘You know what we flying types are like.’

Not till now. ‘Obviously friendlier than other types. I’ve never seen Angus so animated,’ she said dryly.

The flight bonding session seemed to be over so Jo led the way into the sitting room where they sat around a low table.

Mia put some charts down and tried to put Angus’s presence into the back of her mind. How dared he be so friendly to these people he didn’t know and not to his own father?

She needed to get over this and concentrate. It wasn’t her problem. She’d done this antenatal spiel dozens of times, believed it passionately, and could carry it off even with him sitting there. She knew she could. ‘Let’s get started, then.’

Angus clasped his hands on his lap and tilted his head like a teacher’s pet. She’d kill him later.

She concentrated on Jo. ‘In labour you have subconscious resources,’ she began, and thankfully her voice wasn’t too wobbly with those unexpected nerves. ‘Resources our bodies use outside our control. Like our heart rate—around eighty beats a minute usually, but it can increase to a hundred and twenty or more if we’re emotionally upset or scared.’

She couldn’t help the quick glance she shot at Angus, the perfect example of someone who seemed capable of creating a fight-or-flight response in her, even when she didn’t want one. She looked away before he saw her, and hurried on.

‘Like thinking about labour and getting palpitations?’ Josephine said, and Paul squeezed his wife’s hand.

‘Or thinking about the fact that Jo wants to have a home birth instead of one in the hospital.’

‘Exactly.’ She smiled at Josephine and Paul for allowing her to refocus on the discussion. ‘Your body is served by two main nervous systems, the fightand-flight adrenalin sort when you’re uptight and scared, and the relaxation response endorphin when you feel safe and calm.’

She paused and the couple nodded, so she went on. ‘Because you can’t release both adrenalin and endorphin at the same time, can’t be alert for danger and relaxed at the same time, you need to learn to choose relaxation as the way of stimulating the response to keep you calm. Then you can allow your labour to progress efficiently and as painlessly as possible.’

‘I’m all for that,’ Josephine said, ‘and it wouldn’t be bad for Paul to learn for when I ring my mother long distance. He definitely gets pain then.’

Mia giggled and saw that even Angus’s lips twitched. ‘It’s a skill you can and should use for life,’ she went on. ‘During a relaxation response your blood vessels dilate, in pregnancy your uterine blood flow is improved and your baby is happier, and pregnant or not your breathing slows and you’re ready for sleep or daydreaming.’

Paul looked fondly at his wife. ‘She’s like that most of the time.’

‘You’re just jealous, Paul,’ Mia teased. ‘I’ll show you how to do it too. This is where we talk about mindset and breathing.’

Angus watched her, still with polite attention, but she felt he watched her lips form the words more than he heard what she said. It made her aware of the way her mouth moved, of any facial expressions she used, and her whole body seemed more alert and awkward than usual. She closed her eyes briefly and recentred herself. She could and would ignore him.

‘Relaxation is helped by lots of things. You can imagine a perfect place. Maybe that place is under a tree, under a sky full of stars or on a deserted beach. Similar to that feeling you have towards the end of a really wonderful massage and you know your arm would just drop back if someone picked it up and released it again.’

Unless it was Angus who’d just massaged her, then relaxation wasn’t the byproduct she’d be left with. Damn it, she needed to concentrate.

Her voice lowered. ‘Just the feel of someone stroking your back, gently and rhythmically, or warm water running down your body, backwards and forwards in an unending stream, all these featherlight sensations produce endorphins.’

She saw that Paul had taken Josephine’s hand and was absently stroking her fingers as he listened. Confidence grew within her. These people would be perfect for this.

Angus’s grey eyes had darkened almost to black when she glanced his way and when he stared back at her she felt suspended in the moment, trapped by the messages she couldn’t help but read—that he desired her.

Boom—adrenalin shot through her, and she hurried on as all the hairs on her arms stood up. ‘There’s a limitless supply of calming endorphins available in your body to make you more and more high on their morphine-like properties.’ She tried to keep her voice calm and mellow. Where were the endorphins now? All she wanted to do was squeak and run away.

‘There’s litres of endorphins, in fact,’ she said, a little too firmly, ‘if you practise to stimulate their release.’

‘I feel relaxed already, just listening to you.’ Paul looked a little less sure that this relaxation was all rubbish and Josephine gave him an approving, good-boy look.

Mia bit her lip to hide her sigh of relief. So everyone couldn’t tell Angus had just turned her into a quivering jelly. That was good. ‘I’m glad, Paul’

She forced herself to turn to Angus. ‘How about you, Angus? Feeling relaxed?’

‘Actually mesmerised.’ And he didn’t sound as if he was joking.

Mia frowned. It wasn’t the answer she’d expected, and her brain froze inopportunely before she could go on. ‘The next thing you can do is change your breathing.’ Mia liked to leave breathing until she’d set it up because most people were still uncomfortable about practising something they’d done every day since birth.