big shop in town next month. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’ll just go and throw this lot in the washing machine.’
‘Go ahead.’ Kell nodded, flicking on the television with the remote. ‘I’ll go and get the other basket pegged out for you.’
Abby tried, she really did. She tried not to roll her eyes but sitting in the middle of nowhere discussing the merits of soap flakes versus detergent was just so far removed from her normal life she couldn’t help herself.
‘Something wrong?’ Kell asked.
‘Nothing,’ Abby retorted.
‘Shelly’s great,’ Kell enthused. ‘And if the conversation’s not up to your usual standards, bear in mind the poor woman’s about to give birth.’
‘I didn’t say anything,’ Abby protested, annoyed with herself for being caught out, and also irritated with Kell for his uneducated assumptions. Shelly Bodey did not look like a woman about to give birth!
‘You didn’t have to.’
They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment or two before Abby succumbed, curiosity finally the getting the better of her. ‘Kell, why is she washing new clothes?’
‘You’re supposed to wash them,’ Kell explained patiently, his smile back in place to show her she was forgiven, ‘before the baby wears them. It gets rid of any perfume or harsh detergents.’
To Abby’s utter surprise she found she was actually laughing.
‘What did I say?’
‘Nothing.’ Taking a sip of her coffee, Abby started to laugh again then forced herself to stop. ‘It’s just the last thing I expected to hear from a guy like you.’
‘A guy like me?’ Kell asked as he stood up and picked up the laundry basket. ‘What, do you think I’m too macho to know about washing powders and the like?’
Finally she managed to look at him. It should have been so much easier now he was wearing clothes, but even without visual access to that toned body he was still stunning, and something about the way he was looking at Abby had her stomach doing somersaults. He looked so ridiculously gorgeous, six feet five of oozing masculinity with a laundry basket tucked under his arm and a handful of pegs!
‘You’d better get on.’ Abby smiled. ‘If you want to get your washing dry.’
It was Kell laughing this time. ‘Now, what would a woman like you know about laundry?’
As the fly door slammed Abby let out a long-held breath and sank back into the deep sofa, staring out of the window, her gaze filtering out the so-called town to the view beyond which seemed to stretch on to infinity. Mile after mile of red soil, no bay view, no skyscrapers, no hum of traffic in the distance, just the aching gap of emptiness. Staring moodily out as the sun bobbed lower in the sky, Abby truly wondered how she could possibly survive.
Three months, she consoled herself.
In three short months she’d be handing her washing over at the dry-cleaners without even meriting it a thought.
In three months she’d be a consultant.
‘KELL!’
Shelly’s voice wasn’t particularly loud, but the note of urgency in it had Abby on her feet in less than a second.
‘Kell!’ Shelly’s voice was louder this time, more desperate. Putting down her mug, Abby cast an anxious look through the window, catching sight of an oblivious Kell, happily pegging out the washing, his mouth full with pink plastic pegs.
Unsure whether to call Kell or investigate herself, Abby tentatively followed the sound of Shelly’s increasingly urgent demands. As she pushed open the laundry door, she swallowed a gasp of shock as Shelly let out a deep guttural groan, two frightened eyes darting up to meet Abby’s as she hunched over the washing machine.
‘I want to push!’
Please, don’t. Abby didn’t say it, but she definitely thought it!
Stay calm. Abby mentally steadied herself making her way over and gently helping a groaning Shelly onto the floor. There’s a clinic two minutes away filled with nurses, equipment… Her mind flashed to her doctor’s bag winging its way across the outback, a doctor’s bag with artery forceps and umbilical clamps and, luxury of luxury, latex gloves. For that split second she could have cheerfully strangled Kell with her bare hands.
‘I’ll get Kell to ring the clinic,’ Abby said assuredly, pushing herself up from the floor, but Shelly’s hand grabbed her arm as she shook her head, her face purple as she started to bear down.
‘It’s coming now!’
‘Then we’d better get on and deliver this baby’ Abby soothed, her voice amazingly calm given her rapid heart rate. ‘We’ll manage just fine.’
Grabbing a handful of folded towels, Abby took a deep steadying breath. She hadn’t delivered a baby for years.
Years!
Even then it had only been a token attempt, with registrars and midwives beside her in a delivery room packed with equipment! Still, she reassured herself, fast labours were normally easy, just a steadying hand to help Mother Nature along. But as she examined Shelly Abby’s heart sank and Shelly’s question reiterated Abby’s findings from her brief assessment.
‘Is the baby still breech?’
‘Yes,’ Abby’s said, in what she prayed was a confident voice, as Shelly let out a moan of terror.
‘I thought it had turned. I said to Ross this morning—’
‘Shelly,’ Abby broke in firmly, ‘the baby’s going to be fine. I just need you to listen carefully to what I’m telling you to do.’ Her eyes shot up to her new patient and she forced a smile. ‘I’m going to shout for Kell. He can get someone over with a delivery pack, so try not to push just yet.’
‘What if I can’t stop myself?’
Abby took a deep steadying breath then looked up at Shelly, her smile every inch the confident emergency doctor she was. ‘Then we’ll deal with it.’
‘Kell!’
It wasn’t exactly a dulcet summons but, given that the television was still blaring and no doubt he was still playing housemaid, Abby wasn’t exactly left with much choice.
‘What’s up?’
He strolled into the laundry and to Abby’s bemusement he didn’t even look remotely fazed by the sight that greeted him.
‘Ring the clinic,’ Abby said through gritted teeth, as the baby’s buttocks descended lower in the birth canal, Shelly’s agonised screams splitting the hot afternoon air like a knife.
He returned moments later, pulling open a large leather bag, and Abby nodded her thanks as he handed her a pair of gloves and started to open a large paper-wrapped pack. ‘Did you ring?’
‘Yep, Clara’s on standby’ Kell said as Abby’s eyes widened in horror.
‘I don’t want Clara to be on standby,’ she hissed as loudly as she could without alarming Shelly. ‘I want her to send a team.’ Hell, why didn’t this Neanderthal just do as she asked? Yes, she was a doctor but this was a complicated delivery. Beads of sweat were on her brow as she struggled to stay calm. Why was Kell still here? Shouldn’t he do the polite thing and go and boil some water or something?
‘I’ve got to push,’ Shelly begged, and as the baby moved further down the birth canal Abby wasn’t sure what terrified her the most—the thought of a breech birth with no back-up or the fact Kell was pulling on a pair of gloves.