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‘What’s happening at home, Helen?’ Zan handed her a drink of water and waited while she took a few sips. ‘Is your husband coming in?’
Helen handed the cup back and tried to make herself more comfortable. ‘Later. The children were ripping open their stockings when my waters broke, so we thought we’d try and give them as normal a Christmas as possible.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I even managed to get the turkey into the oven between contractions and I did all the veg last night.’
‘Sounds incredibly relaxing.’ Carlo glanced up from the notes, his tone dry. ‘No wonder you went into labour.’
‘Well, Christmas is not the ideal time to have a baby,’ Helen agreed, biting her lip and sucking in her breath as another contraction hit her. ‘Ouch—this is really starting to hurt.’
‘When we talked about pain relief in antenatal classes, you wanted to try and stick to gas and air,’ Zan said quietly, ‘but you know that you can change your mind, don’t you?’
Helen breathed carefully. ‘I don’t know what to do any more,’ she confessed. ‘I read somewhere that if I have an epidural it means you can operate in an emergency.’
‘I don’t foresee an emergency,’ Carlo said calmly. ‘You do what’s right for you. If we need to intervene at any stage then we’ll tell you.’
Helen gave him a grateful smile. ‘In that case, I’ll stick to gas and air for now and see how it goes.’ She looked at Zan. ‘Will you be with me the whole time? It helps just to have people I trust around me.’
‘I promise I’ll be with you all the way,’ Zan said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze.
Helen bit her lip. ‘I’ve ruined your Christmas,’ she muttered, and Zan grinned.
Ruined her Christmas?
She thought back to the night before and everything that had happened between her and Carlo.
‘Are you k
idding? I’m having the best Christmas I can ever remember, and delivering twins will be the highlight.’ Her green eyes sparkled and she glanced up to find Carlo watching her with a heat in his eyes that made her draw breath.
He was so sexy.
And he loved her.
She was so happy she could barely keep it to herself.
‘The labour ward staff were telling me that you weren’t even supposed to be working this morning,’ Helen said, clearly fretting that she’d made Zan give up her Christmas.
‘I’m on a late,’ Zan told her, ‘which means that officially I start at lunchtime, but this is fine. I had time to open my presents.’
She looked at Carlo again, remembering the pretty earrings and the doll. He’d chosen her great presents. He wasn’t just a fantastic lover and a great doctor, he was thoughtful and caring as well.
She couldn’t believe she’d known him for less than a week.
Satisfied that Helen was doing well, Carlo made his excuses. ‘I have to go and see some other patients now, but I’ll be checking up on you and I’ll be here for the delivery.’
Helen watched him go with a sigh. ‘Gorgeous.’
Zan spent the rest of the morning by her side, monitoring the baby’s heart and the strength of the contractions, satisfied that everything was going well.
At lunchtime she examined Helen again and found that she was seven centimetres dilated.
‘This is going well, Helen,’ she said, dropping her gloves in the bin and helping Helen into a more comfortable position. ‘Are you sure that the gas and air is enough?’
‘Just as long as you keep telling me funny stories to distract me,’ Helen said, sucking in a breath as another contraction started.
Zan held her hand and encouraged her. At the end of the contraction there was a tap on the door and Kim walked in, a rope of silver tinsel wrapped around her neck and reindeer antlers on her head.
Zan looked at her. ‘Something’s stuck in your hair.’
Kim glared. ‘Oh, very funny.’ She smiled at Helen. ‘I’m so sorry that Zan’s your midwife today. She was all we could get on Christmas Day.’
