Page 47 of Heartbreak for the Irish Midwife

‘Aye, since last night. My husband took me down here in the trap once I was sure this was it. I think that was about three this morning.’

‘I bet the horse wasn’t impressed at having to be harnessed up in the middle of the night!’

‘Too right! The poor craythur didn’t want to move.’ She gave a loud guffaw. ‘Neither did my man, truth be told! To be fair he works hard, delivering vegetables and coal and moving people all round West Belfast.’

‘You’re lucky he has a horse and trap. You’ll never be short while you have them!’

‘That’s as true as God,’ she agreed. ‘Houl’ on a minute. Here’s another one.’

Turning back to the bed, she leaned forward, breathing deeply and loudly. Her shoulders, though, remained tight, and there was evident tension in her face, neck, and arms.

Despite being nervous, Maisie now knew what her task was – to help Mrs Duffy feel supported and cared for. The baby would take ages to come if its mammy was as worked up as Mrs Duffy seemed to be. The importance of a safe, calm, quiet environment had been drummed into the pupil midwives in London. Birth always goes better when the woman is calm, and a woman becomes calm when she is well looked after. Maisie knew that, although she was not the cleverest person in the world, nor the prettiest, nor the most entertaining – Gerald had made sure she was fully aware of all her shortcomings – one thing she was good at was caring for others. I can do this.

* * *

Dan arrived in the nursery soon after Alex, telling him that he’d heard labour ward was flat out.

‘And I seen another woman in labour heading that way as I left,’ he said. ‘I reckon we’ll both be called there to help shortly.’

‘Right! Better get these checks done then. If we have time for a tea break will we go down to the canteen after this?’

‘Good idea!’

‘I have some craic for you.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Fenton.’

‘That man!’ Dan raised his eyes heavenwards.

‘I know. He was at it again this morning.’

‘What now?’

‘Two different patients, two examples of Fenton blustering his way through.’

Dan whistled. ‘Always at it, isn’t he? You’ll have to tell me all about it.’

‘I reckon he’s never not at it,’ Alex countered grimly.

Dan nodded. ‘I think you’re right.’

Satisfied that they were in total agreement on the matter, they went their separate ways to check on their tiny patients.

* * *

Mrs Duffy had taken exception to the clock on the wall of her labour room. ‘If that clock doesn’t feckin’ start movin’, I swear to God I’m gonna take a hammer to it!’

‘Why? What’s wrong with the clock?’ Maisie glanced up at it. Eleven fifteen. She had been here nearly forty-five minutes, but Mrs Duffy remained tense.

‘The feckin’ thing keeps reminding me that time’s goin’ on, but I’m gettin’ nowhere with this bloody labour! Grrr!’ The final sound was a sort of half-growl, half strangled expression of frustration. ‘I just wish to God the child would come out!’

‘What were your other labours like?’

‘They were quick – apart from the first one. But sure I hadn’t a clue that first time. With the last one – our Mary – Ma Kennedy the handywoman only arrived at the house ten minutes before the head came out!’

‘Ach, I know Ma Kennedy. Her grand-daughter Áine is never out of our house.’ Maybe it’s time to try to probe a bit deeper into her worries. ‘What made you come to the Royal for this one?’

‘Ah, you know, they said I was entitled to it this time.’ Something flashed in her eyes for a second, quickly masked. ‘And I’ll get a lovely rest – lyin’ up in a bed with no washin’ or cleanin’ or cookin’ to do for a week!’

‘I see.’ Maisie had indeed seen. That look in Mrs Duffy’s eyes – just for an instant? Pure terror. ‘That’s definitely something to look forward to. But giving birth in a hospital . . . it’s a bit different to home, isn’t it?’