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The problem was that she’d responded with equal intensity and although she had known full well it had been nothing more than just sex, her body tingled even thinking about it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE STUDENT GROUP, and Alex in particular, begged her to come out to the SAR base with them, but she pleaded work and hurried back to the ED. She knew, given time, she’d get over the heart lurches and galloping pulse every time she saw Marty, but until that happened, avoidance was definitely the answer.
Sylvie greeted her with relief.
‘We’re having one of those days when it’s dead quiet for an hour, then everyone comes at once. Could you see a lass in cubicle one who’s complaining of stomach cramps?’
Emma was only too glad to be occupied, and she made her way to the cubicle where a very young woman, a teenager, in fact, was crying copiously into a handful of paper tissues the nurse on duty had given her.
The lass was very overweight and was probably bullied mercilessly at school.
The nurse introduced Ebony to Emma, then muttered something about work to do and departed, so Emma helped the still-crying patient onto the examination table.
Even under layers of clothing unsuited to the warm weather, once Ebony was lying supine, a possible cause of the stomach cramps became obvious.
Not wanting to cause further distress, Emma checked Ebony’s blood pressure—good—pulse, a bit rapid but no cause for concern, and took some blood for testing—and typing, although she didn’t say that out loud.
She was feeling Ebony’s swollen stomach when the girl yowled in pain.
Emma held her hand, noted the time, then said gently, ‘Did you know you were pregnant?’
Colour drained from Ebony’s face, leaving it as white as the pillow case.
‘Dad’ll kill me,’ she said, and Emma closed her eyes momentarily in a silent Please don’t let it be Dad prayer.
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
A miserable nod of the head.
‘Once I did but then he was just like the others and laughed and called me Fatty.’
‘But you had sex with him?’ Emma was watching the clock as she spoke—the contractions, for that was surely what they had been, were still widely spaced.
‘Only a couple of times.’ The defensive reply must have brought unwanted memories for Ebony began to cry again.
She felt Ebony’s abdomen, finding the shape of the foetus, then, speaking quietly, she explained she’d have to examine her.
The nurse had reappeared, and together they removed Ebony’s jeans and knickers.
Even a quick glance showed the cervix had begun to dilate. This baby was coming.
‘The cramps are telling us the baby is on the way. It will be a while yet—’ please let it not be too long, her head whispered ‘—so is there someone you’d like to have with you. What about your mum?’
Hope battled the tears in Ebony’s eyes.
‘Do you think she’d come?’ she asked. ‘She’ll be mad at me, you see. She mightn’t want to come.’
‘Would you like me to phone her and explain?’ Emma asked, then watched the emotions play across Ebony’s face.
Mum would be mad, but she did want Mum, but then Mum would tell Dad, although Mum could usually fix Dad when he was angry. They were as easy to read as the pages of a book.
Finally, Ebony nodded, and Emma took the file with the name and address on it so she could phone the mother, leaving Ebony with the nurse.
‘The cramps?’ Sylvie asked. ‘Is she pregnant?’
Emma nodded. ‘Could you arrange to have her taken up to Maternity, while I phone her mother? Poor woman, although maybe she’s had her suspicions.’
Sylvie was already on the house phone, arranging the transfer, so Emma made the call from the privacy of her office.
Mrs Challoner, Ebony’s mum, was not nearly as surprised as her daughter.
‘I kept thinking maybe that was it,’ she said, ‘but at that age they hate you asking questions and with all the sex education they get at school I thought she’d know if she was—or even suspected it—and she’d talk to me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Emma said. ‘But perhaps she didn’t know. If she’s usually a bit irregular she probably put it down to that then forgot all about it.’
‘Or was so terrified she shut it right out of her mind,’ Mrs Challoner said, a break in her voice telling Emma how upset she was—not, Emma thought, about the pregnancy, but about Ebony not talking to her.
‘I’ll be right up,’ the anxious mother said. ‘Where will I find her?’
‘Come to the emergency department. We’re transferring her to Maternity but it sometimes takes time and if she’s still here, she’ll be happier going up there with you than on her own.’
