WHEN Tilly walked into work that afternoon she didn’t even get a handover. Gina shooed her straight through to Birthing as she arrived and briefed her on the way. ‘There’s a teenage mum in birth suite four. I’d like you to look after her.’
‘Yes, please.’ Tilly was happy with that and Gina grinned at her enthusiasm.
‘India Ray. Her mum’s in South Australia and the boyfriend’s outside on the street at the moment. She has a nasty history of abuse and of course she’s terrified of the birth and anyone touching her. The seniors will cover the ward until she’s delivered so concentrate on her. She’s had her monitoring done, so you can see the trace in the chart—all’s well there.’
Tilly nodded, she could almost hear her mum’s voice, ‘If a girl’s had a rotten childhood, past abuse can seriously affect the way she labours.’ It had been a passion of her mother’s that she’d passed on to Tilly, to be especially supportive and aware that labours could suddenly stop when women felt vulnerable. Privacy and actual physical contact were huge issues.
‘Good luck.’ Gina left her to finish handover with the others and Tilly knocked on the door and slipped into the darkened room. She could hear rapid breathing coming from the bed.
‘Hello, there, India.’ Tilly peered through the dimness and waited for her eyes to adjust. ‘I’m Tilly. I’m the midwife looking after you this afternoon.’
There was no response from the young woman on the bed. Tilly tried again. ‘How’s it going?’
A sniff. ‘My belly hurts.’ India shot one agonised look at Tilly then stared back down at the sheet she’d drawn up to her chin as she lay on the bed curled up like a baby herself.
Tilly glanced around until she found the small mobile stool and her mind searched for ways to connect with the frightened young woman as she crossed to the stool. She sat, lowered the stool as far as it would go, and glided in at a much lower height than she’d been as she’d stood near the bed.
Her eyes were almost level with India’s as the wheels stopped beside the clutched sheets.
She kept her voice quiet and conversational. ‘It’s hard work, this labour business. But worth it.’ Tilly paused, in no hurry, letting India get used to her.
India grunted and Tilly bit her lip to stop a smile.
‘Perhaps it’s the bed.’ As if the suggestion had just occurred to her. ‘If you lie down with contractions they make your baby’s weight crunch your back and hips. They say you feel the pain about ten times worse.’
India gritted her teeth. ‘I don’t want to move. I can’t. And I hate needles.’
Tilly nodded. ‘Sure. I understand.’ She picked up the hand-held Doppler from the chest of drawers beside the bed and squeezed gel onto the end from the tube of conducting jelly. ‘When you have the next contraction, can I listen to your baby, please? When we change staff for a labour we like to hear and say hello to your baby right at the start.’
She waited for India to nod that she understood.
The girl finally shifted her head slightly on the pillow in agreement and Tilly went on. ‘After that I’d like to feel your tummy and the position your baby is lying in if that’s okay with you?’
India shifted on the pillow again.
Not a lot of connection happening yet, Tilly thought ruefully. ‘I could wait till after the next contraction for that bit, if you like, and then we’ll see?’
Two thin shoulders shrugged under the sheet and Tilly smiled. ‘Where’s your boyfriend?’
‘Outside. He won’t stay with me.’ India’s lip quivered, ‘Since I gave up smoking he smokes ten times more than he ever did. Today he’s smoking a hundred times more.’
‘That’s hard. He’ll be sorry tomorrow and feel rotten, though. Good on you for giving up. You need to keep healthy because this little person is going to keep you on the run.’
India defended her absent hero. ‘Grant says he’s trying to give up.’
Tilly held up her hands. ‘No judgement from me. He’ll quit one day then. Every time he tries to quit smoking he learns something that’ll help him in the end.’ Tilly nodded. ‘Sounds like he’s nervous and probably needs something to hold today.’
India glared at the empty doorway. ‘He should hold my hand.’
‘Yep.’ Tilly looked down at the childlike hand clutching the sheet and felt a pull of sympathy. Support was so important in labour. She felt like nudging Grant wherever he was. ‘He should.’ Tilly glanced at the clock on the wall so she could watch the time between contractions and see how long it took until Grant came back. ‘But when he’s not here, if you need a hand you can use mine.’
Then she changed the subject so India didn’t have to accept or decline the offer. ‘Have you seen those cyber-cigarettes? They’re rechargeable. Crazy. You use them like a real cigarette and they glow blue on the end when you breathe in. You even puff out smoke, but it’s really just water vapour and nicotine replacement therapy.’
The first smile was always the hardest to draw but Tilly could feel the lessening of tension in the girl beside her when she finally smiled back.
‘Do they work?’ India was a very pretty girl when she didn’t scowl. ‘Sounds silly.’
Before they could follow up on that, a new contraction chased away any thought of humour as India hunkered down in the bed and screwed her eyes shut as the next wave rolled over her. Tears squeezed out beneath her clenched eyelids and Tilly slid one hand gently in next to India’s fingers in case she wanted it.
Convulsively India’s hand opened, grabbed Tilly’s, and squeezed hard down on Tilly’s fingers with her rings. Oops. She should have asked her to take the silver off first.
Tilly winced quietly until the contraction began to ease. ‘I’m going to listen to your baby as the contraction ends now.’ She extricated her blanched fingers and slid the little Doppler under the side of the sheet and onto India’s round tummy.
The baby’s heart rate echoed around the room in a galloping rhythm that made even India smile. The sound continued merrily as the contraction eased right away and after a minute more Tilly took the ultrasound monitor away.
‘Baby sounds great.’ Tilly wiped off the gel that was left behind on India’s skin. ‘Can I feel your tummy now, please?’
‘Okay.’ This time India looked more interested and Tilly smiled. ‘Lovely tummy. Love your belly ring. Is that a little dragon?’
She nodded. ‘My boyfriend wanted me to get a tattoo but someone said you shouldn’t while you’re pregnant.’
‘Good choice. Not a great time to get an infection in your blood.’ Tilly palpated the top of India’s belly for the uterus with her hands and then the sides, and finally with both hands felt how deep into the pelvis India’s baby’s head had descended. ‘She’s well down and pointing the right way. Looks like she’s all ready to go.’
‘How’d you know it’s a girl?’
Tilly smiled. ‘I don’t. That’s me being silly. I just call them all girls till someone corrects me. The other midwife said your mum is in South Australia?’
India brushed the hair out of her face. ‘If she’s still there. She’s always doing a bolt.’ India looked across at Tilly and her eyes narrowed. ‘I’m going to be there for my baby no matter what.’
Tilly met her eyes and nodded. ‘It sounds like you understand how important that is. Good on you. Is your dad around?’
‘Is yours?’ The answer shot back before Tilly realised she’d overstepped the boundaries.
‘Sorry.’ Word choice was so important. She owed India the truth because she’d expected it from her. ‘No, not one who’s there for me. I never even met him.’
She could almost see India’s hackles subside. ‘Neither have I.’ And that was all they had time for before the next pain.
During the contraction India’s boyfriend drifted in on a cloud of secondhand cigarette smoke and the room suddenly felt musty and sad.
India moaned noisily and Grant winced and picked up the remote control for the TV. ‘Can’t she have an epidural or something?’
Great support person, Tilly thought, but she didn’t show any disapproval. Grant was all India had and less than perfect was better than none. ‘We’re thinking about a change of position first. I’m Tilly.’
After the introductions, Grant shrugged and then sat slumped in the chair and flicked the channels on the television. Tilly eyed the bathroom door with some hope.
‘After the next pain how about you try the bath, India? The heat from the water and the weight off your back could be really helpful for the pain. You wouldn’t have to have a drip in your arm like you would for the epidural if you decided on that.’
India’s slim white shoulders shrugged. ‘If you like.’ She turned her head away and closed her eyes. Well, that was better than not wanting to move, Tilly thought, and went ahead to fill the bath and gather the towels before she went back to the bed.
‘While we’re waiting for the bath to fill, you could try standing up and leaning on the bed?’ Tilly was nothing if not persistent. ‘Just to get the weight off your back?’
India gave Tilly a long-suffering look that Tilly smiled at. ‘Yeah, I know. I nag.’
Grudgingly India accepted the necessity. ‘Guess you have to.’ With much huffing and puffing, and no help from Grant, India was finally standing beside the bed.
The next pain came and she breathed noisily through it with a little more control. ‘That was still terrible,’ she said with a sideways glance at Tilly, ‘but a bit easier to breathe with.’
Tilly smiled with satisfaction. Every little bit of movement helped. ‘Wait till you feel the water take all the weight off you and wrap you in a warm hug. It’s worth the hassle of getting undressed.’
India’s eyes widened with sudden comprehension and Tilly saw the girl’s recoil at the thought of being naked. She was pretty sure Gina was right about past abuse. Tilly promised herself then and there she’d keep India safe and her privacy respected.
India didn’t meet Tilly’s eyes. ‘I want to leave my top on.’
Tilly nodded enthusiastically. ‘No problem. That’s a great idea and you’ll relax better. I’ll give you a towel you can pull up in the water, too. It keeps you warm as well as covers you.’
India lowered her voice even more. ‘If I had my baby in the water, nobody would see my bits.’
Tilly sighed. ‘I know. And it’s a great way to have a baby but at the moment we’re not allowed to have the last moments of birth underwater. But you could be in there almost until the end.’
India scowled. ‘Why not the birth?’
Yes, why not? Tilly thought mutinously, but kept her face bland. ‘New doctor. New rules. But we can have the pain helped until the end at the moment.’
India looked sideways at Tilly. ‘What if I don’t get out?’
Tilly met her look. ‘My head will roll and they might pull out the baths.’
‘Oh.’ India looked away
No more was said and Tilly acknowledged philosophically that India owed her no allegiance. So be it. She was willing to take the consequences if it helped India realise her body was an amazing part of her and not something to be ashamed of. Tilly had a sudden vision of the look Marcus had sent her in Theatre yesterday and she’d bet a water birth would get more than a look. But maybe he’d get it if she explained.
Tilly helped the girl into the almost full bath and the dropping of tension from the young woman’s face made everything worth it. ‘Oh, my,’ said India. She sighed blissfully. ‘The bed was dumb.’ India had power now.
Tilly couldn’t help the pleased glow that made her smile. She loved this job. ‘You can only do what feels right at the time.’
Tilly draped the towel over India’s belly and legs and the water seeped into it quickly to create a warm, wet blanket over her bare skin.
‘When you have the next contraction, towards the end of it can you lean a little over so that your belly comes up out of the water? I need to listen. It’s good for baby to meet your germs but the fewer people who put their hands in your bath water the better,’ Tilly explained. ‘I still need to keep an ear out in case baby gets tired as we get closer to the end.’
India’s eyes stayed closed and already she sounded more drowsy and relaxed. ‘Okay.’
Tilly dimmed the lights. ‘When you’re ready to push, we can get you to stand up and have your baby. That way you can sit down again later.’
She heard a knock on the door into the main room and glanced down as India’s eyes flew open at the noise. India clutched the wet towel in a convulsive protective gesture.
They both watched the doorway widen to admit Marcus and his entourage until it seemed the room was full of men and Tilly sensed the tensing of India in the bath.
If she could just stall them long enough. ‘I’ll talk to them first,’ she said quietly, and India nodded gratefully.
Before Tilly could say anything Marcus had seen her, absorbed the impending scenario, and already a frown crossed his face. There was no doubt he was unhappy with his patient in the bath. Or maybe any Tilly state of affairs.
His voice wasn’t loud but it was definitely firm. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of a water birth in here?’
‘No. Unfortunately not.’ Tilly lowered her voice until he had to bend to catch her words, an unsubtle reminder that he’d still spoken too strongly for the quiet room.
More softly but with no less firmness he replied, ‘Good.’
She stepped closer so she blocked out his assistants and the discussion continued between the two of them.
She used his comment to open for hers. ‘Though the privacy and lack of contact would very much suit a frightened and self-conscious young woman.’ She met his eyes and waited.
When he didn’t say anything she said, ‘I have no plan to flout ward policy and India’s been told that we need her to stand up before the end of her labour. Would it be so bad if she did stay in the bath?’
‘Yes.’ His eyes bored into hers. ‘I want her out before second stage starts, Sister.’
Now not even early second stage. Tilly chewed her lip. ‘Such a shame when pushing in the bath would progress her labour more.’
His face tightened and Tilly knew she was skirting close to the edge. Obviously they’d already lost the rapport they’d shared that morning at the beach. Did she think they wouldn’t?
It seemed two very different people faced each other now. She raised her brows. ‘Is that the new policy? Out of the buoyant water at the beginning of pushing?’
They both knew it wasn’t. Yet. ‘If it’s not, it will be.’ They were both speaking very softly. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so serious. ‘So tell me, Sister, how far dilated is my patient now?’
Tilly gave an infinitesimal shrug. ‘Exactly, you mean?’
He raised his brows at her deliberate obtuseness and nodded. Like a terrier on a bone.
She shrugged again. ‘I don’t know. I’d say she’s three-quarters of the way there. But as India’s baby’s heart rate is fine and she hasn’t asked for pain relief, I haven’t assessed her dilatation exactly.’
Marcus narrowed his gaze and the sudden coldness in his blue eyes drifted down her neck like a cool breeze. Uh-oh. Too far. It was him standing over her after the gnome all over again. Well, she hadn’t run then and she wasn’t running now.
He was seriously displeased and she wondered fleetingly what his problem was, but for the moment she was more concerned about her patient’s problems.
He said, ‘Shouldn’t that information be available before entering the bath?’
Tilly only just prevented herself from rolling her eyes. Seriously. The guy had no idea. Water wasn’t an invasive procedure. It was a heat pack. A drug-free heat pack.
Of course she couldn’t not answer. ‘Why? It isn’t rocket science. A warm bath is a comfort measure that promotes relaxation, which helps progress in labour. Isn’t that what we’re after? Without drugs and side effects? Would you be happier with an epidural?’
‘At least I’d know where she was up to.’
Tilly glanced back at the half-open door into the bath room. ‘My instinct tells me she’s progressing rapidly now she’s in the bath.’ They were still whispering at each other and it must have looked strange to the other people in the room, though Grant was absorbed in the television and Marcus’s residents continued to talk among themselves.
Tilly persisted. ‘Unlike an uncomfortable vaginal examination, which only satisfies the curiosity of the caregiver and can change in a minute anyway.’
‘And if something goes wrong and nobody has checked to find it?’ Marcus was back to trying to contain that urge to strangle her again. Nemesis was right. But he could do a war of whispers if that was what it took. And he would win. ‘Please ask India to leave the bath and I would like an examination to indicate her progress.’
Then he let her know she was moving into dangerous waters in case she was as unaware as she appeared. ‘I’m not happy with your attitude.’
‘And I’m not happy with yours.’ He really shouldn’t have been surprised she’d said that. He’d watched her struggle to keep it under her breath. Pointless struggle.
The little witch. But a tiny part inside him had to admire her temerity, her dogged protection of her patient, but this was one fight he would win.
‘Unfortunately I’m ultimately responsible for the safety of all the mothers and babies in my care.’
Still she wouldn’t back down. ‘And you think I’m not?’
Okay. Enough. ‘We’ll discuss this at another time.’
Her eyes gave it all away. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
India’s voice floated drowsily from the half-closed door into bathroom. ‘Tilly?’
‘Coming.’ Tilly switched from combat mode to comfort. Maybe they’d wasted enough time to get what they wanted anyway. Tilly threw a glance over her shoulder at Marcus and closed her eyes briefly as she turned to her patient. She knew that tone. Not only were they going to have a baby in the bath, it was going to happen under the consultant’s nose.
A tiny whisper from India that Tilly hoped didn’t carry. ‘I think it’s coming. I can’t move.’
‘Get her out and onto the bed.’ Marcus was behind her and when Tilly lifted the towel they could both see the time for moving was almost past.
If only he could see how easy and straightforward it all was, he’d have to change his mind. ‘We’re all here. It’s safe. Can we just have the baby here, Doctor, then we’ll move? Nice and calmly?’ Tilly didn’t pressure him. It was enough she’d asked. Just asked with a tiny hope he’d listen. It would be so much better for India in the privacy of the bathroom.
Marcus hesitated. ‘It’d better be smooth.’
‘I agree,’ Tilly said as she knelt down beside the bath on the cushion. ‘Just listen to your body, India. The doctor’s here as well. Keep baby’s head under the water until he’s all out and then I’ll help you lift him up and lay him on your tummy.’ She looked around for India’s boyfriend but he wasn’t there. ‘Do want me to call Grant?’
‘No.’ India shook her head vehemently. ‘He doesn’t like anything gross.’
Marcus heard it all. Watched Tilly settle herself. Suddenly he felt the familiar panic rise at the thought of a baby being born underwater, even though his brain told him it happened every day. Hundreds of them. If not thousands. But not under his very nose.
He couldn’t believe this was happening. After all he’d done to avoid this very scenario. His head was telling him that babies had been born in water all over the world with no complications, some of his colleagues even encouraged it, but he hated it.
All he could see was his little sister floating face down in the pond. A picture that haunted him still. His fault. He should have seen she was missing. He’d sworn to protect her. What if this baby looked just like all those years ago.
He could still hear his own scream. He couldn’t stand by and watch this. He turned and grabbed the towels Tilly had placed earlier.
‘Pull the plug. Stand up, please, India. Now.’ There was something in his voice that had Tilly scoop the plug and India rise to her feet before either of them thought about disagreeing.
‘Now, step out and we’ll get you to the bed.’ His voice seemed strangely too calm as he wrapped the towel around the young girl’s shoulders and between them they almost frogmarched her to the bed, where she climbed up awkwardly and sat back against the high pillows just in time for the birth of the head.
Marcus pulled on the gloves his resident handed him and he calmly cradled the rest of India’s baby as she eased her out and up onto her mother’s chest. Baby mewled like a kitten as Tilly dried her and India relaxed back into the bed with an incredulous gasp. ‘My baby. That was so quick.’
It was all over in minutes, third stage complete, no damage, no problems, and a stunned India clutching her baby with a dazed look on her face. Tilly twitched the towel over India’s waist to cover her lower half as Marcus stood back. Even Grant looked impressed.
‘Congratulations, India,’ Marcus said, and he still hadn’t looked at Tilly. That had been so close. Too close.
As he left there was a tinge of irony only Tilly heard. ‘I’ll leave you in Sister’s capable hands.’
Tilly fought to keep her face calm. He just didn’t get it.
She forced a smile at a stunned India and Grant as they looked at their baby. India’s face glowed as she stroked the little fingers that rested on her neck. ‘Oh, my goodness,’ India said, astounded she’d done it. ‘It’s over.’
‘She’s beautiful. And you are incredibly clever. You okay if I come back in a second?’
India nodded. ‘Sure.’ She smiled shyly at Tilly. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘You were fabulous. I’ll be back.’ She hurried after Marcus and shut the door to the birth suite behind her.
‘Excuse me, Dr Bennett.’ Her voice while quiet was anything but conciliatory and Marcus nodded at his residents to keep going.
When the young men were out of earshot he raised his brows. ‘Yes?’
‘That was bad,’ she whispered. ‘You got away with it but you’ve no idea how close you came to destroying her confidence.’
Marcus had assumed Matilda wouldn’t like the loss of a water birth but he hadn’t expected this. What was up her nose? He wasn’t at all keen on her tone either. Young midwife Matilda was back to being a gnat.
He tightened the control. He wasn’t going to lose it. ‘I’m sorry you think that.’ His tone held a thread of steel. ‘I see a well mother and baby with no ill effects.’
Tilly had her hands hovering near her hips, though she didn’t go all the way and plant them. ‘Did you also see a young woman with a history of child abuse sitting up on a bed with three strange men looking on?’
Marcus played back the scene. India hadn’t seemed to mind at the time.
‘If the birth hadn’t been absolutely imminent so that she didn’t have time to think of it, that exposure could have destroyed her.’
‘I think you’re over-dramatising this.’
‘You burst into the bathroom and ordered her out of that bath like a bully. She didn’t need to be on display on a bed. She could have just stood up in the bath.’
Marcus had never considered himself a bully, or been accused of it, and the idea was abhorrent to him. Despite the denial on his lips, he wondered if there was any truth to Tilly’s angry accusation.
He hadn’t known about the previous abuse. How could he? He’d evicted India from the bath for her own safety! Or had it really been for his own peace of mind? He shrugged all that off. It was something to think about later. For the moment this wasn’t the time or the place. He wasn’t happy being spoken to like this.
‘That’s enough. When you’ve cooled down we’ll talk about this but not until you’ve recovered your temper.’
She glared at him and shook her head. ‘If you’d thought more about the patient than your rules, you’d understand why I’m so upset!’ Tilly spun on her heel and marched back to the birth room.
Marcus watched her go and then shook his own head. That was uncalled for. A certain midwife was in for a stern talking to in the privacy of his office. He used the stairs to go up to his office to get rid of the excess energy he suddenly had and arrived there much sooner than he’d have liked.
Tilly was on autopilot as she helped India enjoy that first hour after birth skin to skin with her baby and no interference as mother and babe bonded.
For India, Tilly knew it was important that she take her time and allowed Mia to find her own way to her mother’s nipple, as Tilly had assured India she would. Thankfully, little Mia bobbed her way across her mum’s chest and latched on by herself in under an hour. The less handling and help, the better India would feel about breastfeeding. Judging by the ecstatic smile on the new mum’s face, and the sleepily replete blink of her daughter, India’s life was about to change for the better.
Afterwards Tilly helped India shower and dress her baby, and even Grant seemed to turn over a new leaf and be supportive.
Two hours later mother and baby were asleep, tucked up in their respective beds side by side, and Grant had gone to celebrate.
The birthing suite stood clean and ready for the next arrival and Gina crooked her finger as Tilly put down the paperwork she’d just completed.
‘Finished?’
Tilly nodded.
Gina smiled regretfully. ‘Then Dr Bennett wants to see you in his office before he goes home, Tilly. Sailing a bit close to the wind, I fear, my dear.’ Gina nodded, not unsympathetically, towards the lifts. ‘Come and see me when you get back and we’ll have a coffee.’
‘Thanks, Gina.’ Tilly stood up and squared her shoulders. Bring it on, she told herself, but the idea of putting anything in her stomach, let alone a coffee, wasn’t a pleasant one.
She ignored the lift and trod lightly up the stairs to the consultants’ rooms. Sheryl waved her to a seat and a minute later waved her through into the inner office.
She knocked and opened the door. Marcus stood with his back to her as he looked out the window.
‘Please close the door,’ he said without turning, his ramrod-straight back solid against the light, and Tilly felt the slow burn of irritation. Still, she did as she was asked.
Though if he didn’t turn soon, she’d walk out. That sounded like a really good idea. ‘Perhaps I’ll come back later,’ she said finally.
That shifted him. He turned and looked at her. ‘Please sit down, Matilda.’
Nobody called her Matilda except Mrs Bennett and her mother when she’d done something wrong. Well, she hadn’t done anything wrong except try to make her patient feel as comfortable as possible and she was blowed if she’d be raked over the coals for it.
Her chin went up and he didn’t miss the moment. Typical. And dangerous. But she wouldn’t care about that.
‘Living precariously again? More will fall on you than a hammer on your toe.’
She lifted her chin higher. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I’m in a quandary.’ He gestured to the seat and he could see the reluctance as she sat. Trying to be fair, he sat, too, and studied her across his desk.
He fixed his eyes on her determined little chin, which was pointing so high he wondered if she could actually see him. That was part of his problem. She distracted him. Infuriated him. Made him lose the control he prided himself on, and he would allow no one, especially a little red-haired midwife with self-destructive tendencies, to ripple his hard-won equilibrium.
He’d never had this type of problem with a midwife before. A voice inside said he’d never been as dogmatic as he seemed to get with Tilly but it didn’t really matter. He had to draw the line.
‘You know why you’re here. I need to reprimand you for disputing my orders, and in front of my assistants, and then taking me to task. That wasn’t professional and I won’t have a junior midwife tell me what to do.’
Her chin dropped a little and for a horrible moment there he thought it wobbled. He held his breath, suddenly terrified for a moment about what he’d do if she cried, but thankfully she didn’t. But she didn’t answer.
He couldn’t help his voice softening a little. ‘Do you agree?’
Finally she said, ‘You had your own way in the end anyway.’ He could hear the thickness in her voice.
He frowned. ‘That’s not the point.’ That was too close. He’d actually wanted to stand up and pat her shoulder—or more.
But that would be weak.
Then she said, ‘The point should be what’s best for the patient.’
‘Precisely. And I haven’t seen enough medically based studies that prove water birth is as safe as land birth. I’m the one in charge.’
‘I can show you studies.’ It was as if she ignored the bit about him being in charge and his concern about her becoming upset dissolved rapidly. She was so annoying.
And still going on. ‘I have well-documented hospital trials, though usually by midwives—because science isn’t much involved. There’s no uptake of drugs to measure just shortening of labour and lack of intervention. That’s a bit harder to measure.’
He’d had enough. Protect him from zealots. ‘I’ll look into it more. In the meantime, I won’t have any babies risked by birth underwater until we discuss it again.’
‘Some rural hospitals have fifteen per cent of their births in water. I know of one that’s over fifty per cent.’
‘Matilda. Stop! I don’t want that situation to arise again. Is that clear?’
She looked at him as if she’d suddenly remembered where she was. She looked quite shocked actually and then put her head down. He wasn’t sure he liked that.
‘Yes, Doctor.’ No apology but no defiance either. He could have said more. Could have cited worst-case scenarios, demanded a more detailed agreement. But he didn’t. He needed this to end, too. ‘Thank you, Sister.’
They both stood and she left with enough speed even for him.
Marcus sighed as he walked over and shut his door again. That hadn’t gone quite how he’d planned and he wasn’t sure he knew where it had gone wrong. Maybe it was because he could see that she was just as passionate about helping her patients as he was, only from the opposite side of the spectrum. He closed his eyes and massaged the stiffness in his neck. A damn shame the only fly in the ointment of his dream job lived next door and affected him like no other woman had before.
Tilly hit the stairwell at a run and she was halfway down before she slowed, sniffed, and thanked the universe she hadn’t cried in front of him.
Why on earth had she felt like crying? Probably because she’d been mad. She’d been mad all right, thinking they could have a water birth in front of him when she’d been told it was off the agenda. But India had been so vulnerable and Tilly had wanted her to feel proud of what her body could do in her birth. It was only luck they’d got away with India not noticing the people in the room at the time.
She just hoped he didn’t take it out on the rest of the ward and ban the baths outright. Gina would be well within her rights to chastise her if that happened. She felt like slapping her forehead. What on earth had possessed her to push him so far?