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After a few seconds he squeezed Magda’s hand. ‘Give me a minute.’ Then he jogged out the main door and across towards the field. Kristie couldn’t help but follow him. Gerry had positioned himself outside to capture the landing and the crew emerging from the helicopter.
They didn’t waste any time. Within a few minutes Rhuaridh and Miriam had helped keep Magda into the correct position as they assisted her onto the trolley. The CTG monitor was swapped over for another and then Magda and David disappeared inside the helicopter before it lifted off into the air.
They all stood watching the helicopter disappear into the distance, Gerry with his camera firmly on his shoulder.
Once the helicopter finally vanished from view there were a few moments of awkward silence. They all turned and looked at the open door of the house. Miriam was first to move, walking back into the house, putting her hands on her hips and taking a deep breath.
The space felt huge and empty without Magda. The birthing pool lay with only its rippling water, monitors, blood-pressure cuff, the midwife’s case and Rhuaridh’s, all alongside the normal family furnishings. Pictures of David and Magda on their wedding day. The sofa with the now squelchy cushions. A multitude of towels.
‘I guess we’d better clean up,’ said Kristie.
She wasn’t quite sure where that had come from. Cleaning up was definitely not her forte.
She bent down and lifted one of the sofa cushions, wondering if she should take it to the kitchen to try and clean it off and dry it out.
Miriam had started picking up all the midwifery equipment.
Rhuaridh appeared in front of her and grabbed the cushion. ‘Leave it. We’ll get it. You should just go.’
She blinked. Wondered what on earth she’d just done wrong. She’d just witnessed a scene that had almost made her blood run cold. Had she ever been as scared as this?
Yes. Probably. But that part of her brain was compartmentalised and knowingly put away. It was better that way. It felt safer that way. The only time she let little parts of it emerge was when she volunteered three nights a month on the helpline. It was the only time she let down her guard. Virtually no one knew about that part of her life. Louie did. He’d been there for her when she’d got the original phone call telling her to come to the hospital. Gerry had been there too.
Louie had held her hand in the waiting room. He’d put an arm around her when she’d been given the news, and he’d stood at the door as she’d had to go and identify her sister’s body.
Her beautiful, gorgeous, fun-loving sister. She almost hadn’t recognised her on the table. Her skin had been pale with an ugly purple mark on her neck. When she’d touched her sister’s hand it had been cold and stiff. The scars on her sister’s wrists and inside her elbows had taken her breath away.
Everything had been new to her. She’d had no idea about the self-harm. She’d had no idea her sister had been depressed. Jess had hidden all of this from her—to all intents from everyone. It had only been a long time afterwards when she’d been left to empty her sister’s apartment and go through her things that she’d discovered a frequently phoned number that was unfamiliar. The thing that had pricked her attention most had been the number of times that Jess had phoned—and yet had disconnected the calls in under a minute. That’s when she’d discovered the helpline.
It was situated in their city and manned by counsellors and trained mental health professionals, staffed twenty-four hours a day. One visit to the centre had made her realise she had to try and help too. She’d undergone her training, and now manned the phone lines three nights a month. The small hours of the morning were sometimes the busiest in the call centre. She’d learned when to talk, and when not to. She’d learned that sometimes people just wanted to know that someone had heard them cry. Had heard them at all.
It always took her back to the fact that she wished Jess had stayed on the line a little longer—just once. It might have made the difference. It might have let her know she was safe to confide how she was feeling and didn’t have to hide it.
Occasionally she would get a flashback to part of that first night. Hospitals were a place she’d generally avoided ever since, associating the sights and sounds with the memories of that night. It was part of the reason she’d been reluctant about this gig.
But now she was realising it was something more. Last month, with John Henderson’s body, and this time, when she’d glanced at the cot upstairs—patiently waiting for its baby—she’d felt a sweep of something else. Pure and utter dread. The kind that made her heart beat faster and her breathing kind of funny.
Her heart had sunk as the helicopter had disappeared into the distance, not knowing what the outcome would be for Magda and the baby. She didn’t care about the show right now. She didn’t care about anything.
And all that she could see was this great hulking man standing in front of her with the strangest expression on his face. His hands brushed against hers as he closed them around the cushion, gripping it.
He gave a tug towards himself. ‘I think it would be best if you go now.’
She couldn’t understand. ‘But the room...’ She let go of the cushion and held out her hands, looking over at the birthing pool and wondering how on earth it would be emptied and taken down. ‘You’ll need help to clean up.’
She wanted distraction. She wanted something else to think about. Anything to keep her mind busy until there was news about mother and baby.
‘I’m sure Magda and David would prefer that their house be fixed up by friends.’ He emphasised the word so strongly that she took a step backwards and stumbled, putting a steadying hand on the window frame behind her.
It was then she saw it. The flash across his face. He needed distraction just as much as she did. Probably more. He must be worried sick. Of course he was.
She’d only just met this pregnant woman. He’d known her for—how long? She wouldn’t even like to guess. She knew they’d been workmates in the practice but she hadn’t really had a chance to hear much more.
‘I want you to go now,’ he said as he turned away. ‘We’ll let you know how things are.’
It was a dismissal. Blunt. She wanted to grab him by the arm and yank him around, ask him who he thought he was talking to. In another life she might have.
But if she fell out with Dr Gillespie the whole show could be up in the air. So instead she pressed her lips together and looked around for her bag, grabbing it and throwing it over her shoulder, walking out the room and leaving the disarray behind her.
Gerry was standing at the door. She didn’t care if the camera was on or not. ‘I hate him,’ she hissed in a low voice as she walked past.
* * *
Rhuaridh knew he’d just been unreasonable. He knew that Magda had agreed to the TV crew filming. But none of them had expected the outcome that had just happened.
His heart felt twisted in a hard, angry knot. Every possible scenario was running through his head right now—and not all of them were good.
He wasn’t an obstetrician. The limited experience he’d had had been gained when he’d been a junior doctor. He knew the basics. He knew the basics of a lot of things. But island communities were different from most. The water cut them off from the mainland. There was no quick road to a hospital with a whole variety of specialists and equipment at his disposal.
In the last few months there had been a mountain climber with a severe head injury, a few elderly residents with hip fractures, a diver with decompression sickness, and now an obstetric emergency. All situations where he’d felt helpless—useless even. He hated that his pa
tients needed to wait for either a ferry crossing or an air ambulance to take them where they could get the help required. He hated that he had to stand and look into their eyes, knowing that on occasion that help might actually be too late. And today, when it had been his friend and colleague, he had felt as though he was being gripped around the chest by a vice.
He’d snapped needlessly at Kristie. He knew that. But he just couldn’t think beyond what would happen next for Magda, David and the baby. And until he knew that, he didn’t know what came next.
Guilt swamped him. ‘Kristie, wait,’ he shouted as he walked out after her.
She spun around towards him. The expression in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was every bit as panicked and worried as he was. She was also mad. And no wonder. He knew better than to act like this. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m just worried.’ He glanced up at the sky. The helicopter was well out of sight. He prayed things would go well. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. And thank you for your help in there. I just feel so...’ He struggled to say the word out loud, not really wanting to admit it.
‘Helpless?’ Kristie added without hesitation. He could see her eyes searching his face. Wondering if he would agree.
He closed his eyes for a second and nodded as the rush of adrenalin seemed to leave his body all at once. ‘Helpless,’ he agreed with a sigh. ‘I won’t be able to think about another thing until I know they’re both okay.’
‘Neither will I,’ she said quickly. Should he really be surprised? It was the first real time since she’d got here that he’d taken the time to really look at her, really see something other than the bolshie American TV presenter. There was something there. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Her hand reached across her chest and covered the hand he had on her shoulder. He felt a jolt. It must be the warmth of her palm against his cold skin. She licked her bare lips. All her makeup had disappeared in the last few hours. She didn’t need it. Something sparked in his brain. Had he really just thought that?
