Page 88 of Wish Upon a Star


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‘And Jake Blackwell isn’t?’

Ruth frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say he takes risks. He’s just very relaxed and confident and he puts the mother first. He tries to let women do what they were built to do. He has a very low rate of intervention. I’ll tell you this much…’ Ruth reached up and rubbed a name off the whiteboard with a scrap of tissue ‘… if I was having a baby, there’s no one I’d rather deliver it. Talking of which, where are you having yours?’

‘Oh…’ Miranda blushed and placed a hand on her abdomen in a self-conscious gesture. ‘I don’t know, to be honest. I’ve only just moved into the area. Here, I presume, given that it’s the only unit for miles around.’

‘You should register with someone.’

‘I know.’ Miranda pulled a face. ‘It’s on my list of things to do. And I wouldn’t know who to register with.’

Ruth dropped the tissue in the bin. ‘Why don’t you ask Jake? He’s brilliant. The best, in my opinion. Tom Hunter is good, too, although not quite so approachable. If I were you, I’d go for Jake.’

‘No, I couldn’t possibly do that!’ The words burst out before she could stop them and Ruth gave her a long, searching look.

‘All right.’ She spoke quietly. ‘But you ought to register with someone. Are you carrying your notes?’

Still struggling from the emotional turmoil of imagining the intimacy of Jake delivering her baby, Miranda stared at her. ‘What? Oh—yes. Yes, I am. But it’s been a very straightforward pregnancy. No problems at all.’

Except for the fact that her life was a total mess. But that probably didn’t count, she assured herself. Physically she was fine and that was all health professionals ever cared about.

Ruth was still looking at her. ‘Think about it,’ she urged. ‘As you say, if you’re living around here then this is the only unit in the area.’

Miranda nodded. ‘I’ll do something about it, I promise.’

She and Ruth prepared the water and Annie helped Daisy into the pool.

Instantly the frown on her face faded and her eyes closed. ‘Oh—that feels completely fantastic,’ she murmured, as she spread her arms out and slid further under the water.

At that moment her husband came into the room, clutching magazines and water. A tall man with glasses and a beard, his tension was obvious as he looked at his wife.

‘So how’s it going?’

Still with her eyes closed, Daisy smiled. ‘Perfect.’

Her husband breathed a sigh of relief and put the magazines down on the table. ‘Can I do anything?’ It was obvious from his tone that he was hoping that the answer was going to be no and Daisy chuckled.

‘Just sit and talk to me for a bit.’

Miranda stayed with Daisy for the whole day, monitoring the baby’s heart with the waterproof, handheld Doppler and generally offering support.

Towards the end of her shift she slipped out of the room to give Ruth an update and found her talking to an older man in a suit.

‘This is Mr Hardwick,’ Ruth said quickly. ‘Mr Hardwick, this is Miranda, one of our new midwives. She’s looking after Daisy.’

The consultant made a disapproving sound. ‘Is she nearing the end of the first stage? I’m going out to dinner tonight and I don’t want to be disturbed.’

Miranda bit back the sharp response that flew to the tip of her tongue. ‘She’s doing very well. She’s in the water now and—’

He frowned. ‘That will slow her labour down.’

Miranda took a deep breath. ‘On the contrary, I’ve often found that the relaxing effect of the water actually pushes labour forward, providing the mother isn’t put into the water too soon. Daisy didn’t go in until she was five centimetres dilated and now she’s—’

‘I want her out of the pool for delivery.’ Mr Hardwick’s mouth tightened. ‘It’s impossible to estimate blood loss in 600 litres of water.’

‘Of course.’ Miranda felt her hackles rise. ‘There’s nothing to suggest that this will be anything other than a routine, normal delivery. The foetal heart is—’

‘Obstetrics is nothing if not unpredictable, young lady,’ the consultant interrupted her again, his tone frosty. H

e then turned to Ruth. ‘I’ll be in my office for another hour and then I have a car picking me up.’

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