Читать книгу Medical Romance August 2016 Books 1-6 - Sue MacKay, Amalie Berlin - Страница 26
ОглавлениеLORNA HAD DIED soon after the wedding.
There was no sense of relief for Adele.
She didn’t even know how to cry.
Lorna had been buried wrapped in the blanket but still Adele had not been able to cry.
A month later they had returned to Mamlakat Almas for a formal celeration to mark their marriage and then come back to London so that Zahir could complete his contract.
The baby would be born in England.
When Adele was six months pregnant they went back for a flying visit. Even though they would be there for just one night, Zahir had made sure that there was the necessary equipment and staff on hand should something happen.
It was supposed to be a brief visit, a duty visit, but just before they returned to the UK Adele had finally broken down.
This time, she had arms to hold her as she cried, but not with remorse or guilt. She simply wept for the mother she had lost.
It has been a long time coming and the grief did not fade with her tears.
The flight was delayed, of course, and Adele lay on their bed and tried to fathom that she was going to be a mother and that hers was gone.
Zahir was patient.
Yet his concern was deep and so was his love.
The attar prescribed a blend of herbs to nurture both baby and mother and also a slight calmative, and that helped a little.
On the morning that they were due to fly back to London they lay in bed and Zahir stared out at the desert, feeling the kicks of their baby beneath his hand when Adele stirred.
‘Adele,’ Zahir asked, ‘are you looking forward to going home?’
Half-asleep, she answered him honestly.
‘This is home.’
She loved England and would always go back to visit friends but Mamlakat Almas felt like home.
She stretched and turned to face him and, more awake now, she smiled, still unable to believe that she could wake up with him every morning. ‘What time do we leave?’
And Zahir had come to a decision—the choice would be Adele’s.
Dakan had moved mountains, his goal to get the birthing suite ready should Adele need it.
Zahir could feel how much more relaxed she was here.
‘Do you want to stay?’
‘Stay?’ Adele checked. The baby was due in eight weeks and soon it would be too late to fly.
‘Maja is a good obstetrician, she is one of the best...’
Dakan had made sure of that and Zahir would not even consider it if he did not trust Maja.
‘We could have the baby here?’ Adele checked.
‘If that is what you want,’ he agreed.
And Adele thought about it and realised she very much did.
It was the most wonderful time. Mornings were spent in the healing baths with Leila.
They spoke about Aafaq, yet Adele still couldn’t speak about Lorna. Sometimes they just floated in silence. Adele, who had been without a mother for so long, loved that she had guidance and support from Leila.
Afternoons she would walk barefoot on the sands with Zahir and at night she would lie in his arms and try to comprehend how far they had come.
It was peaceful, it was gentle, it was bliss.
And then, two weeks before her due date, Adele woke up and looked out at a red desert sky.
‘What time is Maja coming to see you?’ Zahir asked.
‘At midday,’ Adele answered, but then she asked him something. ‘Do you think she knew I was having a baby?’
All those hours, all the years talking to her mother without so much as a sign that Lorna could hear and yet she asked him now.
‘I do.’
‘You’re just saying that.’
‘No.’ Zahir shook his head. ‘Did you tell her about me...?’
‘You were all I spoke about for a year.’ Adele gave a soft laugh but then it changed. ‘I miss that.’
It had seemed agony at the time but Adele now missed those times with her mum.
‘Of course you do,’ he said. ‘I spoke to her on our wedding day and just like you had said there was no response, no sign she understood, yet she held on until she knew you were okay...’
‘I don’t know.’
Adele didn’t know what to think.
‘Talk to her again,’ Zahir said. ‘Maybe in your head. Have those conversations that you miss.’
Adele did.
She walked on the beach and in her head she chatted to her mum and told her how much she loved her.
How sorry she was.
And some tears fell and then she smiled. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I have a driver now.’
Zahir was right.
It helped to talk to her mother again. For years there had been no response but now she could feel the breeze on her face and the sand at her feet and she could talk to her whenever she wanted to.
Then Adele saw Leila walking towards her and she always made her smile.
Leila had nearly finished the blanket for the baby.
It was complete, save for one square, and she was trying to squeeze the baby’s name out of Adele.
Adele wasn’t telling; instead, they chatted about Maja’s visit today.
‘She thinks it might be wise if I deliver soon, given that the baby is so big.’
‘Good,’ Leila said. ‘Hopefully you will be prescribed more time in the healing baths after you have the baby. I was there for weeks afterwards. You know how I suffered in my labours. Both Zahir’s and Dakan’s shoulders...’ And then she hesitated but a little too late, for Adele had frowned.
‘I thought that Zahir was premature?’
‘He had very big shoulders,’ Leila said quickly. ‘Even at seven months.’
Then she looked up at the palace and saw the ladder against the wall and she smiled at the memory of Fatiq climbing up it to be by her side.
‘This is the stone I received the night after the bridal selection,’ Leila said, and she pointed to the ruby that she wore around her neck for Adele to admire.
And she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible wink.
Yes, what happened in the palace stayed in the palace, but those last tweaks of regret about her walk of shame left Adele then as she realised she that Zahir hadn’t been premature in the least.
They laughed.
* * *
Zahir was working in his office when he took a moment to enjoy the lovely view and saw his mother and Adele walking on the beach.
He loved his country.
Always.
And he loved the changes that had been made and the care that had been taken of Adele. He could see her calm and relaxed and happy and walking with his mother.
He watched as Adele and his mother stopped walking and started to laugh.
Adele was doubled over with laughing and it was nice to see.
Leila carried on walking and talking and then turned as Adele failed to catch up.
He watched his mother walk back towards Adele.
That was all Zahir saw.
He swiftly made his way through the palace and down to the beach.
‘I’m here,’ he said, and then he stopped talking as Adele looked up and smiled in relief.
They shared a gentle kiss on the beach where she had first told him all that had happened and as they looked at each other he could see in her shining eyes the healing that had taken place.
And he knew then that they had been right to stay.
* * *
Samina helped Adele into a fresh gown and Zahir walked her down the palace stairs. When she bent over midway, Adele remembered the glare that had passed between father and son when Leila had doubled over.
Things were so different now.
The birthing centre was beautiful and the bliss of an epidural could not be overstated.
‘Adele,’ Maja told her, ‘you need to have a Caesarean.’
She had come to realise that and so too had Adele and Zahir after a lot of very unproductive pushing.
It had always been a real possibility.
Adele was slight and Zahir was not and this was rather a large baby.
She thought of Queen Leila and what she had gone through and was so grateful for all that had changed.
Adele stared at the ceiling as she was moved through to the theatre and Zahir was by her side.
‘The staff are praying for a calm and wonderful delivery,’ a nurse explained, ‘and then they will come in.’
Their ways really were beautiful, Adele thought.
Zahir was utterly calm and sat by her head and held her hand. He chatted as if they were sitting at a bus stop, rather than about to become first-time parents.
He calmed her in a way no one else ever could.
And she loved his patience and also his occasional impatience when a solution wasn’t forthcoming at his pace and he pushed things along.
She loved his almost unwavering belief that the answers would unfold in time.
And she loved, most of all, how essential she was to him.
As he was to her.
It was a moment like no other.
She heard the gurgle of the suction machine and felt the odd sensation of tugging and then heard the sound of tears.
Lusty, healthy tears and they were gifted with a small glimpse of their son.
He had thick black hair and was a big, angry baby indeed. Adele laughed when she saw him and knew, as fact, the Caesarean had been necessary.
‘Go over to him,’ Adele said to Zahir, and he gave her a kiss and then did so.
The staff were a little nervous as Zahir approached.
He was not only a doctor but would one day be king and so too would his new son.
‘He is beautiful, Your Highness,’ Maja said. It was the proudest moment in her career to have delivered the future king. She was so pleased that he had been born safely here in Mamlakat Almas.
He was crying very loudly and a nurse was wrapping him up and preparing to take him over to Adele.
‘Can I take him?’ Zahir asked her.
That would be a yes.
He took his baby and rested him in his arm. He looked down at his son, who stared back and calmed in such a firm hold.
Zahir went over to Adele and sat on the stool, putting the baby’s head by hers and watching them meet.
And he saw tears flow freely from Adele’s eyes.
He was the most beautiful baby, with navy eyes and thick black lashes and he didn’t look like a newborn. He was stunning and he had her heart just like that.
And the name they had chosen was absolutely right, Adele thought as she felt his little fat hand reach out for his mother.
‘Azzam...’ Adele said, and she kissed him.
And later, much later, sitting in bed, holding her baby with Zahir by her side, the baby was introduced to his family and Leila finally got to know his name.
Azzam.
Royal Prince Sheikh Azzam Al Rahal, of Mamlakat Almas.
It would be stitched onto a little square tonight and placed in the centre of his blanket.
The palace healer also came to visit Adele and he thought she might need at least eight weeks of the healing baths.
‘Maybe ten,’ he said, and gave Adele a smile.
‘Your mother will be delighted,’ Adele said to her husband when the healer had left.
They were breaking one old tradition, though, and Adele would be back in Zahir’s bed on her first night home.
‘Once you have finished your course in the healing baths, we shall have to see about a honeymoon.’
‘Where?’ Adele said.
‘You choose.’
And she thought of an oasis in the desert but she would not be forgetting to take her Pill this time.
She could not have been happier.
Neither could Zahir.
And later, after she had fed him and Zahir was settling him down, she called Janet to share the happy news.
‘It’s a beautiful name,’ Janet said. ‘What does it mean?’
‘It means determined,’ Adele said, and then Zahir smiled at her and she met his gaze. He walked to Adele and sat on the bed, took her hand as she explained further.
‘Resolved.’
