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One of the midwives gave a sigh. ‘Just tell us he isn’t a meddler. We don’t need another consultant like—’
‘Now, now,’ Gill interrupted briskly, a faint frown touching her forehead. ‘No need to name names. He’s left and it’s history and, no, Jed Matthews isn’t at all like that. He’s an incredibly talented obstetrician who thinks that women should do it by themselves whenever they can. I dare say you’ll meet him later but I think he’ll support our philosophy to the hilt.’
‘Well, that’s one bit of good news, then.’ Brooke stood up and tucked her pen and notebook into her pocket, falling into step beside her friend Suzie as they walked down the corridor.
Suzie gave her a sympathetic look. ‘You OK?’
‘Are you joking?’ Brooke rolled her eyes. ‘When was my life ever OK?’
‘What’s happening about the roof?’
‘I’ve got a man coming to see it on Saturday but at the moment I’m just using a bucket and lots of hope.’
Suzie pulled a face and looked worried. ‘This rain can’t last for ever.’
‘This is the Lake District so it can and, knowing my luck, it probably will,’ Brooke said dryly as they paused outside the door of Room 2. ‘But thanks for asking.’
Suzie nodded and hesitated. ‘Look, if you need a loan…’
‘No, thanks.’ Brooke stiffened and her small chin lifted slightly. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Brooke, for goodness’ sake!’ Suzie glanced along the corrid
or and lowered her voice ‘You’re not fine at all and you know it! You’re struggling like mad and it’s time you let someone help you.’
‘I don’t need help.’ Brooke’s tone was frosty and Suzie looked exasperated.
‘You’re so stubborn, do you know that? How will you pay for the roof?’
Brooke shrugged. ‘That’s my problem.’ One of the many. ‘I’ll do some agency work or something.’
‘Brooke—’
‘I’ll handle it.’ Brooke’s eyes glinted with determination and, without waiting for a reply, she shouldered her way into Room 2 and beamed at the woman sitting on the bed.
‘Hello, Mrs Neal. I’m Brooke Daniels, one of the midwives on the unit.’ She took one look at the wide, frightened eyes of the young woman in front of her and forced her own problems to the back of her mind, knowing that she had some serious work to do.
‘Could you call me Alison?’ The woman looked terrified. ‘It seems more…personal somehow. I hate anything medical.’
‘Try not to think of this as medical,’ Brooke advised gently. ‘Having a baby is perfectly natural and in this unit our policy is to intervene as little as possible.’
‘Is that why this room doesn’t look a bit like a hospital room?’ Alison glanced round at the pretty curtains and bedspread and the comfortable sofa and beanbags. ‘It’s more like being at home.’
‘Actually, it’s better than home,’ her husband pointed out dryly. ‘At home we haven’t got a king-size bed and a rocking chair.’
Brooke smiled. ‘The rooms are nice, aren’t they? The whole idea was to make people feel as though they were in the comfort of their own homes but with the advantages of hospital technology on hand if needed.’
Alison was still gripping her husband’s hand tightly. ‘Will you be with me all day?’
‘One of our student midwives, Paula, will be with you the whole time,’ Brooke told her. ‘I’ll be popping in and out all day and I’ll definitely be here when you deliver.’
‘I can’t bear to think about that bit.’ Alison managed a weak smile and bit her lip. ‘I’m terrified, I have to confess. I can’t relax at all.’
Brooke settled herself on the bed. Blow protocol. What this woman needed was the personal touch.
‘Well, helping you to relax is my job.’ She took Alison’s other hand in hers and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘Did you go to any of our antenatal classes?’
‘I went to the yoga class a few times but, to be honest, the roads were so bad in December and January that I stayed at home mostly.’ Alison looked anxious. ‘Should I have persevered? Would it have made a big difference?’
