Page 21 of Heartbreak for the Irish Midwife

Gerald would never have been described as a ‘good lad’. The notion was shocking, but her gut told her it was true. He didn’t help people, not at all.

In fact she could not recall a single occasion when he’d done something genuinely altruistic. Right now it seemed to her that everything he did was about meeting his own needs – even his courtship of her. He had wanted her on his arm – an ornament to his own image, like the carnation he’d worn in his buttonhole on occasions. She had been nothing but a different sort of carnation.

God! That couldn’t be true, could it? Guilt ran through her at the possibility she was being unfair to him – lashing out in her thoughts because she was hurt, as he had done to her.

She had never allowed herself to criticise him before. While they were together it would have seemed disloyal. So she had turned a blind eye to his flaws. And he had many flaws. She bit her lip, her gut swirling and her mind restless. Some important realisation was there, just out of reach, but she couldn’t indulge her thoughts right now. Not at work, sitting with a stressed mother trying to feed her child.

After much coaxing, Mrs Watson’s baby eventually fed for a good fifteen minutes, after which Maisie placed him back in his cot and completed her assessment of his mother. Her observations were all reassuringly normal, and so finally she began to fold the screens, wheeling them back to the far side of the room. Continuing with her duties, she resolved yet again to put the whole topic of Gerald, and men in general, out of her mind. As a midwife, she was immersed in a world of women, and that was how she liked it.

* * *

Having finished reviewing three babies in the nursery, Alex paused, wondering where to go next. Knowing that Maisie was in A Ward for the afternoon, his feet naturally took him in that direction.

Entering the ward, he saw that Sister Hanna was there, taking a woman’s temperature about halfway down the room, but there, in the office – and abruptly, his heart was thumping – was Maisie, writing up notes. She lifted her head when he walked in, and Alex swore he saw a brief flash of joy in her eyes before she disguised it.

How could he move things on with her? Talking about work would never be enough, for she would always be completely in professional mode. An idea flashed into his mind that could be a potential way in and he strolled over to the office before he could second-guess himself.

‘I wanted to ask you something,’ he said to Maisie as he approached, glancing through the glass towards the main bay to make sure Sister Hanna wasn’t coming back, and kicking out the wedge that held the door open.

‘Oh?’ She’s curious. Good.

The door had closed. ‘Did you ever wonder about Dan and Peggy?’

‘Dan and Peggy?’

‘Yeah. They seem very distant with each other, but I swear . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It’s hard to explain, but I’ve sometimes wondered . . .’ He paused, sending her a knowing look.

Her brow creased, then cleared. ‘They know each other!’

‘They do. He told me they both trained in Dublin last year, but they act like strangers. Seems odd. Plus there was some weird carry-on at the reception last week.’

She pondered his other words for a moment. ‘I’m not sure it’s really any of our business,’ she eventually responded. ‘Though it is odd that they haven’t said they know each other.’ She recalled Peggy’s secretive smile when Priscilla had been blatantly flirting with Alex and Dan, and an astonishing possibility presented itself to her. ‘Might they be together?’

His eyes widened briefly. ‘Possibly. Or some sort of falling-out, maybe. I dunno.’

Maisie frowned. ‘Well, maybe she’s right to stay away from him. Maybe he wasn’t right for her.’

Now the hairs on the back of his neck were standing to attention. Why did he suddenly sense Maisie was no longer talking about Peggy?

The door opened abruptly behind him. ‘So what about Mrs Watson’s baby?’ he asked Maisie smoothly, not missing a beat. ‘How’s he doing today?’

‘Good afternoon, Doctor.’ Pointedly, Sister Hanna replaced the wedge, propping the door open. Oops!

‘Oh, hello, Sister Hanna. Just checking in on a couple of my patients.’

‘Of course. Midwife Canavan spent quite some time with Mrs Watson earlier, so she should be able to provide a detailed update.’ There was an edge to her tone when she said quite some time that hinted she was dubious about why exactly Maisie had spent so long with the woman.

‘I’m actually a bit worried about Baby Watson,’ Maisie responded, her tone even and her chin raised. Atta girl! he thought, allowing admiration to shine in his eyes.

‘He isn’t feeding very well,’ she continued, ‘and there haven’t been many wet nappies since he came down from the nursery. The anterior fontanelle is very slightly sunken, but the mouth is moist, and the baby isn’t lethargic.’ Sister was listening intently too. ‘Mrs Watson is very engorged and baby is struggling to stay on the breast.’

‘Tongue tie?’ he asked, and she shook her head.

‘I don’t think so. I got a good look at the frenelum and the tongue is lifting well at the front and not bifid. I also checked for a posterior tongue tie and couldn’t feel any tissue between my fingers.’ She brought her fingers together to demonstrate. ‘I think the most likely theory is that it’s a combination of the engorgement and the baby adapting from the bottle.’

‘Any signs of infection in either of them?’ Sister Hanna asked the question that was on the tip of his tongue.

‘No. Temperatures both normal, skin normal to the touch, Mrs Watson not reporting shivers or flushes.’