Carol Marinelli

The Midwife's One-Night Fling


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had always been ‘the sensible one’. Her mother, Jean, had relied on her to look out for the boys and soothe their hurts rather than her own.

      As Freya wrote up her notes she thought how she came across to her patient. Her long dark curls were pulled back into a ponytail and she knew that her green eyes could sometimes come across as guarded rather than shy. She was a quiet person, and that generally suited her patients just fine.

      However, like Mrs Roberts, Freya could appear a touch aloof at times—abrupt, even—although not, she hoped, with her patients. And, while she tended not to chat too much about herself, that wasn’t an issue in Cromayr Bay, where everyone knew everyone else’s business anyway.

      But Freya wanted to reach her patient and to be sure that she was coping, so she decided to open up a little to Mrs Roberts in the hope that the woman would reciprocate.

      ‘Actually,’ Freya said, ‘although I’m telling everyone that I’m excited about moving to London, I’m really quite nervous. It’s a big hospital and I shan’t know anyone.’

      ‘You’ll be fine...’ Mrs Roberts started, and then paused as Freya gently spoke on.

      ‘I expect everyone is asking if you’re excited now that the baby will soon be here?’

      Mrs Roberts nodded. ‘“Not long now!”’ She mimicked the regular phrases being thrown daily her way. ‘“You’ll be hoping for a girl after three boys.”’

      ‘Are you?’ Freya asked. She knew the sex of the baby.

      ‘Of course not. I didn’t get pregnant to try for a girl. In fact, I didn’t...’ It was the closest Mrs Roberts had come to admitting the pregnancy had been an accident, but she quickly rallied. ‘Healthy will suit me just fine.’

      ‘Of course,’ Freya agreed, and Mrs Roberts changed the subject.

      ‘So you’re nervous about leaving?’

      ‘Terrified,’ Freya now admitted. ‘And I’m wondering how I’m going to fit in.’

      ‘You’ll fit in just fine.’

      ‘I hope so,’ Freya replied. ‘But I’m starting to think I’ve made a mistake.’

      ‘Well, I know that feeling.’

      Freya watched as Mrs Roberts closed her eyes and finally admitted the truth. ‘It’s not that I don’t want it—well, I’m sure I will once the baby’s here. I just honestly don’t know how I’m going to cope. The twins are into everything and Jamie runs wild. Davey’s no help. Och, he tries—but he’s out the door for work at seven, then not back until six and wanting his supper. I’m trying to freeze a few meals for when the baby comes...’

      ‘That’s good.’

      ‘It’ll take more than a few frozen dinners to see us through, though.’

      Freya saw the flash of tears in Mrs Roberts’s eyes and then watched as she buried her face in her hands and started to weep.

      ‘Mam!’ Jamie toddled over and pulled at her skirt. ‘Mam!’

      ‘Mummy’s just a little tired,’ Freya said as she gave Mrs Roberts some tissues.

      When his inquisitive eyes fell on her stethoscope, Freya took it from her neck and played with it on him, to give Mrs Roberts time to cry by herself.

      ‘Do you want to have a play with it now?’

      Delighted with his new toy, Jamie wandered off.

      ‘I’m sorry, Freya.’ Mrs Roberts sniffed into the tissue that Freya had pressed into her hand. ‘How on earth am I going to manage with another one? I don’t get a moment to myself as it is.’

      ‘Have you thought about asking your sister to come and stay with you for a wee while once the baby arrives?’ Freya knew that the two women were close.

      ‘I have,’ Mrs Roberts nodded, ‘but it’s a huge imposition.’

      ‘Did she say that?’

      ‘No, no—she offered to come. But I think it’s asking too much from her.’

      ‘You’ll need help at the start, Mrs Roberts. It’s better to take it than to do too much and find yourself overwhelmed and exhausted. If you talk about it with her now she can start to make plans.’

      And making plans was what Freya and Mrs Roberts did next.

      Her sister Norma would come, and also there was a small crèche that Mrs Roberts occasionally used.

      ‘I might see if they can go there—just one afternoon a week, maybe two—so I can have some time with the new baby.’

      ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea,’ Freya said. ‘Did you know, once I’ve moved, I’ve got Mrs Hunt coming in to service my cottage between tenants?’

      ‘I dinnae need a cleaner.’

      ‘Well, I’m only mentioning it in case you might. She’s very thorough and her prices are reasonable.’

      The appointment went well over time, but it was worth every minute because Mrs Roberts was actually smiling as she retrieved the contents of her bag from the floor.

      ‘You wee monkeys,’ she said to the twins. ‘Jamie, give Freya back her stethoscope.’

      Before the cubicle door was opened Freya had a final word. ‘If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed when the baby is here—’

      Mrs Roberts broke in. ‘Then I’ll speak to Betty. I honestly will. I feel so much better for talking with you.’

      Mrs Roberts rounded up her three sons and Freya saw them to the desk. There she pulled up the appointments on the computer screen and made one for the next Thursday.

      ‘Thanks so much, Freya.’

      ‘You’re welcome, Mrs Roberts.’

      ‘Leah, please.’

      Freya smiled, for it was high praise indeed to be invited to call Mrs Roberts by her first name.

      ‘I wish you all the very best in London.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Once Mrs Roberts had left Betty came over, and Freya explained a little of what had happened.

      ‘It would have taken a lot for her to admit she’s struggling,’ Betty agreed. ‘Well done, Freya. And don’t worry—I’ll be keeping a very close eye on her.’

      Freya took in Betty’s knowing eyes and kind face and knew Mrs Roberts was in the very best of hands. Betty had been a midwife here for nearly forty years. She had, in fact, delivered Freya herself. Right now, though, she was just trying to get the clinic closed somewhat on time.

      ‘I’ll shut down the computers and you go and tidy up the cubicles,’ Betty said. ‘You’re going to be late for your own leaving party.’

      Goodness, Freya thought when she saw the chaos of the cubicle. It looked as if it had been snowing!

      Yet not for a second did she regret that the check-up had spilled more than an hour over time.

      Freya tidied up and as she came out saw the waiting room was in semi-darkness.

      ‘Everything’s done,’ Betty said. ‘I’ll lock up.’

      And then it was finally here—the end of her time at the Cromayr Bay birthing centre.

      Freya looked around the waiting room and beyond the desk, thinking of the two birthing suites behind. Then she walked out through the familiar room and into the office to collect her coat before a dash home to get changed for her leaving do.

      She hoped her ex wouldn’t show up.

      Alison would be there. She had cried when Freya had told her that