AVOIDING Tilly at work was easier as time went on. That was a good thing. Dr Bennett and the midwife would never see eye to eye. He was busy, she was busy, and he could avoid her quite easily if he saw her in the distance. Something he’d mastered recently. He had no doubt she was avoiding him, too.
Mornings still lacked something, though. As if his brain refused to join the two Matildas and insisted on two different identities, and one of them he sorely missed. Mornings with Matilda were gone and it didn’t feel right.
He’d achieved the reality by the simple expedient of running in another location but there was no doubt he felt the loss of the rapport they’d fallen into. He’d never felt that need with a woman before. To sit, talk, laugh.
The other was easier to understand because apparently the subtle sexual tension since that first kiss and during their one swimming lesson had been highlights of his year. He could tell because those memories intruded far too often into his thoughts when he ran. Even at the new beach.
Even now he could imagine the tangle of legs they’d ended with as he’d learnt to float, the softness of her breasts against the back of his head, and the feel of her hands against his skin. He wanted it back. He wanted Morning Matilda back but he had to come to terms with the fact that work dynamics played a part in how he handled the progress or lack of progress in their relationship.
Did it really matter that she had radical beliefs as long as he had control at work? Was he sabotaging a blossoming friendship, a different kind of relationship from anything he’d ever had, for the sake of work when it didn’t have to cross over to there?
The next morning Tilly walked up the footpath towards Hill Street and she could see that Marcus’s car was still there. So he hadn’t gone to work yet. He’d been leaving really early this week. And she hadn’t seen him out for his run. She’d swear he hadn’t run at all the past few days since he’d abandoned her after the rally.
Well, she wasn’t chasing him. He was the moth and she was the flame—Ellie’s mantra echoed diligently in her head. Not that she wanted a relationship, but she’d enjoyed his company. Outside work anyway.
‘Hi, there.’ Tilly jumped, almost guiltily, as the object of her thoughts came up behind her.
Tilly didn’t comment on the fact he’d been missing at this time for the last few days. ‘Hello, there, to you.’
‘Are you still keen for swimming lessons?’ He stopped and walked beside her.
She shrugged. ‘I thought you might not want to do them any more.’
He was looking at her strangely. ‘I have some good memories. Maybe tomorrow if you’re not busy?’
It seemed she wasn’t persona non grata any more. That was nice. Confusing, but she wasn’t going to get excited about it. ‘If you’d like. The water’s been lovely the last few days.’
She wanted to tell him she knew about his mother and his sister but it wasn’t the sort of thing you could drop into a conversation. Maybe she’d just leave it to mention in another lifetime.
He glanced at his watch. ‘See you then. I have to go in early today.’ He jogged off again and she watched him cover the distance to his house with his long strides.
The guy was like a roller-coaster but she couldn’t deny she felt that extra spring in her step that had been lacking the last few days. She told herself it was just because she didn’t like being at outs with anyone.
The next morning Marcus kicked with his feet hanging onto the side of the pool.
He couldn’t believe he was there despite his misgivings, ignoring his professional beliefs to be with her. He was like one of those stupid insects drawn to the blue light. He knew it was going to hurt but he couldn’t resist. The only good thing was that now he had the confidence he could swim, everything felt easy. He assured himself that kicking practice would strengthen his freestyle.
Some folks might say he was a bit devious after his successful lessons with Duggie during the evenings but he enjoyed watching Tilly being teacher too much to resist.
And so far it had been as delightful as he’d imagined and it hadn’t taken much, some skin, a little laughter, and he’d felt strangely at peace again. They were both kicking side by side as they hung onto the pool edge when the question popped into his mind. ‘So, tell me about your family.’
‘I have my mum.’
‘Tell me about your mother.’ Splash, splash, splash.
Her splashing slowed. ‘Why?’ It took him a minute to realise.
Two big kicks from Marcus. ‘Because I sure as heck can’t figure you out. Maybe if I can understand your mother then I’ll understand you.’
Her kick increased and she didn’t say anything for half a minute. Water flew into the air as if she was trying to kick the water to death. ‘You’d hate my mother.’
Good grief. He let his feet sink and stood up to look at her. ‘How can you say that?’
Tilly stopped too and they faced each other, wary, like kids who’d splashed each other too much. ‘She’s a home-birth midwife, very militant, but also very caring of the women in her care.’
Okay. Maybe he would. No. Of course he wouldn’t because she’d be like Tilly and he couldn’t hate her if he tried. He had tried—and failed. ‘Where does she live?’
‘Wollongong. South of Sydney.’
His breath eased out of the side of his mouth with a little hiss he hoped she didn’t hear. He turned away and rubbed the back of his suddenly stiff neck. For a horrible moment he’d thought she was going to say up where his parents had lived. Even thinking about it made him shudder. Her mother would be too young to be the one anyway. He dropped his shoulders and sighed.
That shone a little light on why she was how she was. She went on. ‘We lived with my grandmother and the only men I really knew were partners of the women my mother and grandmother cared for. She was a home-birth midwife, too.’
Of course she was. And her great-great-grandmother was probably a white witch who delivered at home, too. He couldn’t help it—he still had issues with that. But it didn’t make him want to get out of the pool and leave her. He had come a long way.
‘What about your father?’
She shrugged. ‘Never met him. Didn’t want to know about me. There’s some irresponsible men around.’
Yep. Like his own father, and he wasn’t enjoying the conversation any more. He really should work on those issues.
It was Matilda’s turn to be curious. ‘What about your family?’
‘I don’t see my parents much. They’re not the most responsible people. My sister drowned when I was young and I don’t think I ever really forgave them or myself.’
He’d never verbalised that in his life. Why on earth would he bring it up now? His phone rang from the side of the pool and Marcus decided it was a great excuse to drop the subject. He stubbed his toe on the uneven rock of the pool in his haste to get to it. He wiped his hands on the towel, picked up his phone, and almost said thank you instead of hello.
Tilly watched him. Something had happened there. At least he’d mentioned his past but she could see he still had issues to resolve about his family. Silently she thanked Mrs Bennett for the heads up. A stark warning this man wasn’t ready to be emotionally involved with anyone.
And she was a little worried she was forgetting she didn’t want that either. Maybe it wasn’t worth trying to keep their friendship.
He blew hot and cold so much she was getting a chill. She should be used to his fluctuations by now. She was getting way too obsessed with this guy. Tilly ran back over the strange conversation and the shift when she’d mentioned…what?
Tilly climbed out, well aware there’d be no more lesson today, or maybe any day if he was going to give off the vibes he was shedding at the moment.
‘I have to go,’ he said. She could tell he wanted to say more. Maybe even so she’d understand there could never be anything between them. Well, that was okay because she got that. But apparently he couldn’t get the words out. Instead he waved as he turned away.
‘And you have to go because of the phone call, too,’ she said to his back.
His car was gone when she arrived in Hill Street and Mrs Bennett was sitting on her veranda.
Tilly chewed her lip and decided she couldn’t stand not knowing. ‘Mrs Bennett?’
‘Yes, Tilly, dear.’
She leaned on the gate. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ve just had a strange conversation with Marcus.’
Her neighbour laughed. ‘Only one, dear?’
Tilly smiled. ‘Actually, we’ve had a few, but today was right up there.’ She looked at Mrs Bennett and wondered if she really wanted to know more things that would make her care about Marcus.
‘Does Marcus ever see his family?’
Mrs Bennett smiled wryly. ‘I think I’ve seen more of him this month than they have for the last twenty years.’
Tilly tried not to let her confusion over Marcus affect her at work the next few days. Keeping distance between them helped but it became impossible when Stella Trainer came in on Wednesday evening.
‘I haven’t felt my baby move.’ Stella and her husband appeared at the desk at the start of Tilly’s shift.
Tilly came round the desk and nodded with a sympathetic smile. ‘Then let’s go and have a little listen, shall we? That way you can feel reassured. Babies often slow down as they get closer to birth.’
She ushered Stella into the assessment room and pulled her notes. ‘When was the last time you saw Dr Bennett?’
‘Yesterday.’ She smiled tremulously. ‘We heard the heart beat then.’
‘Okay. That’s good.’ Tilly smiled again but she had this horrible sinking feeling drawn from the absolute fear that radiated from the mother in front of her. This was more than concern, this was terror at an instinctual level, and Tilly didn’t like it.
She helped Stella lie down and lifted her floral maternity top to palpate her tummy to establish the lie of the baby. There was no movement with that stimulation so she applied a little more gel than she normally would and placed the Doppler over the spot where the baby’s shoulder, and under that, baby’s heart, would be situated and searched for the sound they both strained to hear.
Nothing. Tilly checked the other side and then back where she’d first listened. Still nothing.
‘The heartbeat’s not there. Is it?’ Stella said flatly, with a horribly tight face and an anguished glance at her husband.
Tilly swallowed the fear in her own throat. ‘I can’t find it at the moment, Stella. I’m sorry. I’ll get Gina, the midwifery manager, she’s more experienced, and I’ll page Dr Bennett to come down.’
Stella looked at her with bleak eyes. ‘Thanks, Tilly. Yes, please.’
Tilly’s mind raced as she almost ran out of the door. She found Gina talking to a relative and she tapped her shoulder. ‘Excuse me. I’m sorry. I need you, please.’
Gina nodded to the relative and as she turned away Tilly whispered what had happened. Gina patted Tilly’s shoulder. ‘I’ll go in while you ring Dr Bennett.’
When Marcus picked up the phone he almost hoped it was Tilly, even though he’d promised himself he was going to avoid her like the plague. But this was a Tilly he’d never heard.
‘Dr Bennett. Stella Trainer has arrived with no foetal movement. I can’t hear a foetal heart.’ Her voice broke.
‘I’m on my way.’ No. Not Stella. He’d seen her yesterday. He should have done that bloody Caesarean last week.
The next two hours were tragic. The ultrasound proved that Stella’s baby had died, though it couldn’t say why or when. There was no signs of foetal distress, no apparent problems with the cord or placental separation. Just an unexplained cruel act of nature.
Stella and her husband perched on the edge of their chairs in stunned silence while Marcus sat helplessly, unable to give them a concrete reason or any hope that they were mistaken. All he could give them was sympathy and try to answer any questions the best he could.
He offered a Caesarean or an immediate induction of the labour but gently recommended they wait a few days for Stella to go into labour naturally. Tilly silently nodded her agreement of this plan, too, and with trepidation the grieving parents decided to go home and wait for contractions to start.
Tilly gave them her mobile phone number if they needed to talk. Marcus had already done that.
Tilly glanced across at Marcus, his face a tight mask as they both watched the parents leave. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and shook his head. Then he walked away. Tilly knew what he was thinking and her heart was breaking for everyone.
The next morning, after a night spent dozing in fits and starts in her bed, it was with relief that Tilly saw the streaks of dawn finally appear. She’d worried at the idea that her encouragement to Stella and Rob had cost their baby her life, though the fact that all had been well the previous day disputed that.
She knew it wasn’t rational, she knew she was being unfair to herself, but common sense didn’t help.
What if their baby had been born earlier? If she hadn’t been on shift, would it still be alive? The horrible self-recriminations wouldn’t go away. She dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her swimmers and then Tilly beat the water of the bay with tears streaming down her face. Instead of looking for dolphins, she almost wished a shark would gobble her up.
Despite her brief maudlin death wish, after her swim she felt a little better and even a little calmer as she pushed through the breakers to the beach.
Until she saw the man doing slow laps in the sea pool. Marcus? Swimming? It wasn’t graceful but it was strong. The slow strokes mechanical, repetitious, as if they could go on all day without effort. As if he was trying to exhaust himself and couldn’t.
When had he learnt? Had he always known and he’d just lied to her? And the fact he was practising there in front of her was a message. She shook her head. She didn’t understand but it was another blow to her morale. Tilly hurried past the pool and up to her house. She didn’t want to see him because she’d just burst into tears.
Stella went into labour that night. She spoke to Tilly on her mobile and told her she wanted to stay home as long as she could because she didn’t want medicated pain relief.
‘If this is all I’m going to have when my baby is born, I want to feel the labour and remember it all.’
Tilly nodded into the phone and cleared her throat. ‘Of course.’ She could see that made sense. ‘I’ll have everything ready when you come in.’ Tilly arranged for one of the other midwives to be available to take unobtrusive photographs if Stella wanted them.
Tilly was there waiting with the bath full and the lights dim when they arrived.
Stella’s husband, Rob, had brought music they wanted to play. The lullabies they’d chosen with such anticipation for their baby’s birth would still greet their little girl as she came into the world, even though she wouldn’t hear them.
Tilly bit her lip and closed her eyes to get a grip. It was okay—maybe somewhere their baby would hear them.
Tilly checked Stella’s observations and settled her into the bath, and even thought briefly about Marcus’s preference for assessment of labour before Stella stepped in, but the mother preferred not to be disturbed and of course Tilly agreed.
‘I need to ring Dr Bennett. Let him know you’re in.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Tilly.’ Stella lay back with her eyes closed as she breathed through a contraction.
Tilly pulled the door shut gently, leaving them with the other midwife.
Tilly dialled Marcus’s mobile and he answered at the second ring. ‘Dr Bennett. It’s Tilly.’ She nearly said Sister McPherson but decided that was silly. ‘Stella has arrived in established labour.’ She thought she’d better tell him. ‘She’s in the bath.’
She heard the sigh. ‘I don’t suppose you examined her first?’
Tilly closed her eyes. ‘She said she’d prefer not to be disturbed.’
‘How convenient.’ More irony than anger but still Tilly didn’t need it.
‘Don’t do this, Marcus. We’re all hurting. I’ll ring you when she’s pushing.’ Tilly put the phone down gently.
Marcus snapped his phone shut. Well, he’d deserved that. But he was having real problems coping with Stella’s loss. And it was even harder because he’d done everything right.
He’d monitored, scanned, checked the foetal growth and mother’s health consistently. He’d done every conceivable blood test to ensure she was well. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
It didn’t matter when people said some babies died. He knew what it was like to lose someone and he’d chosen this career to keep babies and mums safe. He’d failed. And he didn’t know where or how not to do it again.
How could her baby have died? And the cancelled Caesarean only made it a hundred times worse. The ultimate case of ‘if only’. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive Matilda for talking Stella out of that, even though he knew it wasn’t her fault. He began to dress to go up to the hospital.
His phone rang again and it was Tilly. ‘She’s pushing.’
‘I’m coming,’ he said, but the phone was dead. Tilly had already gone. Of course she wouldn’t leave them long at this time.
When Marcus arrived he expected to find them out of the bathroom and pushing on the bed—but of course they weren’t.
They were in the bathroom, the mother submerged in the water and Tilly on her knees, peering into the gloom. Stella was gently breathing her baby out.
He shut his mouth. What was he going to say? Get out or the baby will drown? Marcus drew a slow breath in and sighed. He nodded at Rob, who was in the bath, too, but seated behind his wife and holding her gently as Stella leaned back against him.
Marcus quietly moved to the only vacant seat in the room—the toilet. He vaguely noticed the other midwife in the corner with a camera.
He may as well watch and learn. In fact, when he thought about it, despite the muted sadness, it was very peaceful in here, pleasantly warm, and the light was dim but enough to see by. He noticed Tilly had a torch by her feet in case she needed to see, but otherwise not much was happening, and apparently that was fine.
‘Keep breathing like that, Stella,’ Tilly whispered. ‘Now put your hands down and feel baby’s head as she comes out.’
Good grief, they were at that stage? He couldn’t tell by Stella’s face.
‘I can feel her,’ Stella whispered.
‘That’s lovely. Keep breathing with the contractions until she glides into your hands.’ Tilly gestured to Rob to stretch his hands around and feel if he could.
Tilly peered into the water. ‘Here she comes.’ She still hadn’t put her hands in at all. It was all the parents. Marcus was spellbound. A little horrified but spellbound.
Then his brain suddenly remembered that this was in water. He hated water. Water had taken his little sister and it had been his fault. He should have looked after her.
But he’d been so small. Too young to have that responsibility. The voice came from nowhere. Never his fault. The voice was repeating it like a litany in his head and while his eyes watched the parents lift and greet their eternally sleeping baby, in some unexplained and mystical way he said goodbye to his own baby sister, and finally left her to rest in peace. Of course his parents had never blamed him. It had been beyond his control. As this was beyond his control.
This wasn’t his fault. What Tilly said was true. He’d done everything he knew to keep mother and baby safe. It hadn’t been enough, but it wasn’t his fault. Or Tilly’s. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It was a tragic turn of nature.
He looked across to where Stella was holding her baby between her breasts in the water, tears in rivers down her cheeks and Rob’s arms around them all.
Tilly had sat back, tears on her own face, and he didn’t know when he moved, just that he did. He knelt behind her and put his arms around her waist until, after initial stiffness, she leant back against him.
They all stayed, in a tableau, as Stella held baby Katia until it was time to move.
Marcus left them a little while later. He’d checked Katia for any obvious reasons why she’d passed away inside her mother but none were obvious. There was nothing more he could do.
He left a remarkably composed Tilly to deal with the touches he knew little about, wrote an initial brief comment in Stella’s notes, and went back to his office.
He couldn’t erase in his mind the view he’d had from where he’d sat. The tableau of composed grief set amidst the subdued wonder of an amazing birth. In this situation he could even be an advocate for delivery in water—yet he couldn’t call it anyone delivering anything. It had been a mother aware of her body’s force and capturing the moment to welcome her child into the world.
Such a tragedy the child hadn’t been able to breathe the air when her face had lifted to the surface. He scrubbed his face as if to lose the frozen expression he knew was on there and sat down to write a detailed consultant’s report which he would drop down later when he went to see Stella again.
Two hours later, Marcus went to see the parents. Stella and Rob were settled in a private room with Katia, whom they were keeping with them tonight while Stella stayed in hospital. He arranged to see them in his rooms when the results came back from the examination of Katia in a week’s time and again offered his number if they needed to talk.
When he left them he couldn’t see Tilly anywhere and the ward seemed remarkably quiet for a place that delivered half a dozen babies a day. He passed two other midwives but not Tilly, and he tried not to look for her but in the back of his mind he’d realised that such gentle strength for the parents would come at a cost. He worried about her—he couldn’t help it.
He heard a sniff as he went past the cleaner’s room, a tiny alcove with a door, and when he stopped outside he heard it again.
She was crying. He’d known it.
He lifted his hand but hesitated. What help would he be? If she hadn’t wanted privacy she wouldn’t have hidden away. But she was hurting. She wasn’t the only one.
He knocked gently and pushed open the door. It was dark. Why on earth hadn’t she put on the light?
‘Matilda?’
She sniffed and he narrowed his eyes in the dimness, reached out and touched her face. The dampness ran down his fingers and he gently wiped big stripes of tears from her cheeks. She turned her head. ‘It’s my nose that needs wiping,’ she muttered.
‘Sorry, but I’m not using my fingers for that.’
He bit back a smile, just glad she had a bit of fight in her and wasn’t totally destroyed. ‘Take the handkerchief, please.’ He pushed it into her hand.
‘Thank you.’ Muffled but sincere.
‘You okay?’
She glared at him through the dimness. ‘Why are you in my cupboard?’
He held back another urge to smile. ‘It’s my cupboard, too.’
She shook her head. ‘Typical.’
He ignored her comment and went on. ‘I’m here because my friend is in this cupboard. I thought you might need company.’
Even she smiled, albeit a little miserably, but he was glad to see it.
‘It’s a very small cupboard.’
He said, ‘I just wanted to say you were amazing with Stella and Rob.’ She sniffed again and unscrunched his handkerchief to use again.
She blew her nose loudly and he couldn’t help the glance he cast over his shoulder at the door.
He realised just how damning this could look if they were caught in here, though what people could say if they found them was a long way from Tilly’s mind. ‘If she’d had the Caesarean, the baby might still be alive.’
He didn’t want to think about that. He couldn’t because—he just couldn’t. ‘We don’t know that. If we’re very lucky the post-mortem will tell us, but you know how often the reason for stillbirth is never found.’
There was a silence he had to fill. ‘The birth was very special.’
She lifted her head. ‘Even though it was a water birth?’
‘In this case I can see the absolute benefits.’ He needed to get out of here, in any direction, but he couldn’t seem to move.
He reached out and brushed the damp hair off her face. This was ridiculous. Two tall people cramped in a cupboard with cleaning materials, mops, vases, and dead flowers.
He leant forward and brushed her forehead in a kiss. ‘I just wanted you to know I thought the birth was beautiful.’ He was repeating himself.
So he left.
Tilly knew Marcus blamed her. How could he not? But that was okay because she hadn’t stopped beating herself up. She didn’t think she could face him, or anyone else, at the minute. Thank goodness it was almost eleven and she could go home.
She was meeting Ruby to share a taxi and hopefully she could get home without bursting into tears. This job could give the most joy and, at moments like this, the most pain. But she wouldn’t change being there for Stella and Rob. Not in a million years, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Marcus felt the same.
‘Poor Tilly.’ They were in the kitchen at Hill Street and Ruby put her arms around Tilly and gave her a big hug. Sympathetic tears glinted in her eyes, too. ‘Poor you. You do an awesome job. I’d want you there if I was them, and of course it’s not your fault.’
‘I know, but I feel so guilty. I don’t even want to go into work tomorrow.’
Ruby nodded. ‘I know. I felt the same last month when that six-year-old came into Emergency after that house fire. It breaks your heart watching other people’s pain. You listen and try to support them and somewhere inside it rips your heart a little and even though we’re not directly involved it does take a little time to heal. God knows how the ambulance officers do it time after time. No wonder they burn out.’ They both shuddered.
Ruby sat the chocolate biscuits in front of Tilly. ‘Here. Have the lot.’
‘Not the emergency chocolate ration?’ Tilly laughed through her tears. ‘I get to have the whole box?’
‘I’m thinking about it.’ Ruby pretended to hover her hand indecisively over the box. ‘Better hurry before I change my mind.’
Tilly pushed the chocolate away. ‘Actually, I feel sick.’ She stood up and hugged Ruby. ‘Thanks for being here. And I’m so sorry I didn’t know about last month. You didn’t tell me about your six-year-old.’
Ruby hugged her back and she put the biscuits back up on top of the cupboard. If they weren’t going to help then they didn’t need the calories. ‘Cort was there. We did our grieving together.’
‘You’re so lucky.’ Tilly chewed her lip. ‘I’m thinking I might ask Gina for a week off to go and see my mum.’
Ruby nodded. ‘Things not working out with Marcus?’
Tilly shook her head. ‘I don’t want to talk about that either.’
Ruby patted her arm. ‘I think going to your mum’s is a great idea.’
After four days, Marcus decided he needed help to find Tilly. She wasn’t at work, not around the house, repairing or painting something, and the girls next door avoided him so he couldn’t catch them to ask, and his aunt didn’t know.
He’d watched vigilantly for her each morning but he hadn’t seen her slip out for her swim or stroke her way across the bay.
He’d kept up the swimming lessons with Duggie and the old man had begun to teach him butterfly and backstroke and he’d had his first surf. He’d have liked to tell Tilly about it.
That morning he’d cracked and asked Gina where she was when he’d done his morning round.
‘She’s gone to her mother’s for a week. Stella’s loss upset her.’ Gina looked at him. ‘Her mother’s a friend of mine. She’s a home-birth midwife, you know.’
Marcus felt the usual kick from that statement but it wasn’t as bad. Not right through his gut anyway. ‘I know.’ Such a twist of fate but not as important today. Maybe it wasn’t the final nail in the coffin of a relationship with Tilly he’d thought it was, because at the moment he was more interested in catching up with her again and seeing that she was all right. He needed to make sure she wasn’t blaming herself.
Three days later Marcus was in his office. ‘Mr and Mrs Trainer are here to see you, Doctor.’ Marcus stood up and greeted Stella and Rob. She carried a small silver folder and to his surprise she kissed his cheek.
She looked subdued but remarkably composed. ‘How are you, Stella? Rob?’
Rob answered for her. ‘We’re both well, Doctor. And you?’
‘Fine.’ He gestured to the two chairs facing his desk and pulled the one out from behind so he could sit next to them.
Rob gestured to his wife. ‘Stella was worried about you.’
‘Thank you, Stella.’ How could she have a skerrick of emotion left for him? ‘I felt your loss very much.’ He looked at the pathologist’s summary in his hands with mixed feelings and decided to get on with it.
‘I have the report back from Katia’s examination.’ He waited while they absorbed that and seemed ready for him to go on.
Rob reached over and took Stella’s hand then indicated they were ready. Marcus didn’t doubt he wasn’t the only one who found it hard to speak at the moment.
He cleared his throat. ‘Katia had a brain haemorrhage, an uncommon and untreatable aneurism, or extreme weakness in the wall of the blood vessel that surrounded her brain.’ The parents looked at each other and Stella wiped a lone tear away impatiently.
Marcus went on. ‘The examining doctor…’ they all tried not to think about that ‘…seemed to think that even a Caesarean birth would not have prevented the rupture and he was surprised she’d grown so well and for so long inside your uterus.’
Rob swallowed. ‘So not compatible with life?’
Marcus nodded. ‘The blood-vessel wall seemed to have whole areas of extreme congenital weakness so I’m afraid not.’
Stella sat forward. ‘So, in fact, if she’d been born by Caesarean we may not have had that time with her, the tranquillity of her arrival, the calmness to savour that precious time with her.’
Marcus thought about that. There was no doubt that could be true. ‘I hadn’t thought about that but you’re probably right. Of course, there would have been extreme measures used to try and save Katia if the aneurysm had ruptured at birth because we wouldn’t have known what was wrong with her.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, it could have been very traumatic.’
Stella sat back and glanced at her husband. ‘That’s very comforting.’
Marcus nodded again. It was. A gentle waft of peace crept over him as if a cloud had drifted away and allowed warmth from the sun to suddenly stream in the window. ‘I think so, too.’ He looked at Stella. ‘Do you have any questions?’
Stella smiled sadly. ‘We’ll always have questions but that’s not why we’re here.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘Perhaps we could ring you if we have more?’ Rob nodded.
‘Of course.’ Marcus included them both in his agreement. ‘Any time. If I’m not here, I’ll phone you back as soon as I can.’
Stella took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Thank you for that.’
She tightened her hands around the little book on her lap. ‘I wanted to show you the beautiful memories we have of Katia.
‘There were parts of that two days we spent in hospital that were a blur and parts that will remain treasured memories. Thanks to Tilly and the other midwives and to you for being so generous with all the time you spent with us.’
Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘To borrow Matilda’s words, it was a privilege to be there with you both for Katia’s birth.’
Stella glanced down at the folder. ‘Thank you. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought our daughter’s things to show you.’
She opened the first page and lifted several black-and-white photographs in baby frames, photos of Stella in the birth pool with Katia snuggled against her mother moments after her birth. Rob’s arms encircled them all and the picture could have been of any birth.
The tenderness on both parents’ faces pulled hard on Marcus’s composure.
‘And this is Katia’s hand-and footprints. Tilly did a good job, don’t you think?’ The little outlines were clean and stark against the thick white paper and incredibly touching.
Next she handed him a frame with a little white plaster cast of a clenched baby fist and a tiny foot, and then Stella lifted a smaller album with pink rabbits gambolling on the front. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. She passed it to him.
Photographs of Katia, photos of each parent holding their daughter. His throat caught and when he turned the page and saw one of Tilly, tears glistening at the corners of her beautiful eyes and the precious bundle of Katia wrapped in a hand-sewn rug in her arms, he could feel the thickness in his throat.
Someone had even taken one of him, an intense expression on his face as he looked towards the bath, and it brought back the poignancy and the tragedy of that day. And another of his back as he hugged Tilly and the parents in front of them both with their baby.
He couldn’t imagine how many times this little baby’s mother must have already looked at these and how many more there were to come over the next years. Over the rest of her life, probably.
He carefully handed back the album. ‘Katia’s photos are incredibly beautiful. Thank you for showing me.’
‘Thank you for being there.’
All Marcus could think about was that he wanted to see Tilly. He wanted to tell her about the pathology results. Tell her about Stella’s folder. Tell her and see the same comfort in her eyes as there was in Stella and Rob’s and his own, after understanding the report.