The Midwife's Nine-Month Miracle, page 34
Home. That annoying word again. A fantasy she had spent most of her life without.
“Please, just make yourself at home,” Leo offered politely.
Wondering if her thoughts had shown on her face, she snapped, “But it’s not my home. Not anymore.”
A gigantic lie, considering the contentment flowing into her soul since returning.
If she’d slapped him across the face, Gila doubted the impact would have been as robust. The shutters in Leo’s eyes returned and closed her out. Those same much-hated shutters she’d seen so often during those last weeks before she left.
“I need to go out,” Leo said, stepping away. “I’ll see you tonight, unless you’re already in bed.”
“I will be,” she said, her eyes drifting again to the bed. The one they’d shared for over a year. Where they’d laughed and made love. Where they’d confessed secrets and shared Sunday-morning tea mixed with buttered toast and laughter. The place where she’d believed they were their true selves. Where she’d sworn their love grew stronger.
And once again, the overpowering sense of returning home caused another break in her already-battered heart.
Dear Reader,
Sometimes people in relationships can behave in ways that end up emotionally hurting their partner. We all know how that feels, don’t we? And that’s exactly what’s happened in The Midwife’s Nine-Month Miracle. After Leo messes up big-time, Gila has to decide if she can ever forgive him and whether their marriage is worth saving. Add in the fact that she’s also expecting their first child...and it’s not an easy decision for her to make.
I loved writing Gila and Leo’s story and I hope you enjoy getting to know them. If you do, please let me know. You can find me via my Twitter account, @sriversauthor, or pop over and say hello on Goodreads. I look forward to hearing from you.
Best wishes,
Shelley Xxx
The Midwife’s Nine-Month Miracle
Shelley Rivers
Shelley Rivers is a Bournemouth girl who spent most of her childhood reading. Married with a family, she now splits most of her time between reading, writing and pampering to the whims of her hilarious greyhound. Her hobbies include lopsided sewing, holey knitting and collecting old stuff that no one else sees the beauty in.
Books by Shelley Rivers
Harlequin Medical Romance
Tempted by the Brooding Vet
Awakening His Shy Vet
Reunited by Her Twin Revelation
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
To Don, whom the family lost during the writing of this book. I hope the dog walks in heaven are as good as the ones down here on earth.
And to Jean, one of the silent army of carers who are often forgotten. You did good, girl.
Praise for Shelley Rivers
“This was a great book. I really liked the animal involvement and the work romance. This was such an easy and relaxing read.”
—Goodreads on Tempted by the Brooding Vet
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM THEIR MARRIAGE WORTH FIGHTING FOR BY LOUISA HEATON
CHAPTER ONE
Mart’s Medical Clinic, London
GILA WRIGHT RUBBED a hand over her stomach and tried not to laugh at the appalled faces being made by the seven teenage girls viewing the film depicting a birth scene. But every time she gave this class, the horrified expressions on the faces of the young mums-to-be as the reality of impending labour hit home always made her chuckle.
‘It’s a bit grim, isn’t it?’ one expectant mother commented with a deep frown, her fingers flipping the braided strap of her purple handbag.
‘Don’t worry,’ Gila soothed with practised ease. ‘You’ll be too busy pushing your child out into the world to be concerned with anything else. It’s all perfectly natural and survivable.’
None of the girls appeared overly convinced by Gila’s reassuring words. Each eager to do everything correctly during their pregnancy, while secretly dreading the actual event of impending childbirth and new motherhood. Gila understood their concerns. In less than a month, she too would be going through the whole process for the first time. Though at thirty-two years old she was far from being an unmarried teenager.
Since Mart’s had opened two years previous, the walk-in clinic had run antenatal classes especially for teenage mothers. It had begun as a pilot scheme to help relieve the strain and workload on several of the area’s local health practices. A place where young women could find help and information no matter what their circumstances were. Somewhere welcoming where the teenagers received no judgement or criticism. Just help, information and caring medical advice. The classes had proved so successful that a decision had been made to run them permanently, having become an important service to the neighbouring community, and many of the medical staff who worked at Mart’s were actually volunteers who lived in the area and fitted in shifts around their main hospital jobs.
Gila had joined the staff two months ago, after taking maternity leave from her position as a midwife at the local maternity unit. She spent two days a week volunteering at the clinic, rather than sitting around on her uncle’s narrowboat, lonely and bored, with too much time to dwell on things she’d prefer not to.
Rubbing her hand lovingly over her baby bump again, she sent a silent prayer of thanks as the film ended, signalling the end of the week’s session. Her back ached, her slightly swollen feet pinched against the insides of her flat black shoes, and she yearned to head home. And for the last hour she’d also craved sliced apples and thick toffee sauce with ridiculous intensity. Both of which she envisaged eating while lying in a warm relaxing bath.
‘So, any questions?’ she asked, returning her full attention to the circle of young women. ‘This is our last group together before I leave to have my baby, so if you do think of anything before your next class with my colleague Sarah, who’s taking over from me, remember you can speak to your individual midwives or family doctors. They are there to help. Nothing that is worrying you is silly or unimportant. I promise medics and midwives have heard everything before, no matter how crazy-sounding, so don’t let embarrassment stop you. Okay?’
‘I have a question,’ asked a teenager, sticking up her hand as though still at school. ‘How long before we let our partners back? You know, physically. Because after watching that—’ she pointed at the now blank screen ‘—I’m thinking seriously about asking to be sterilised after the birth.’
Gila laughed and quickly mollified her. ‘Depending on the birth, but usually we advise six weeks before resuming making love. I promise you’ll soon forget about the messy side of giving birth the minute your baby settles in your arms. And if you want, I can suggest to Sarah that she talks about birth control options for after your babies arrive, at the next session.’
Several young mothers murmured their enthusiasm for the idea, before they all stood and shuffled towards the door, chatting and laughing as they filed out of the room. Each airing their opinion of what they had just watched.
Gila slowly rose from her chair, as a too familiar heavy silence and melancholy moved through her as the last young woman waved goodbye and closed the door. The difference between her and those seven young girls was that Gila knew for a fact that they would each be sharing the births of their first child with a partner at their side. Whether a boyfriend, mother or even a brother, each one fortunate to have someone with them cheering them on through the long hours of labour. Whereas Gila would face the birth of her child alone. The father of her baby would not be reassuring her with encouragement and loving words. Or holding her hand and whispering praise as the labour intensified. No, her child’s father would be absent, just as he had been for the last four months of her pregnancy. Ever since the night she packed a bag and walked out on him.
She sighed and reached for the blue medical bag sitting in the centre of the large desk in the corner of the room. Afternoon sunlight cast its warmth into the area through the large window that faced out onto the clinic’s car park, illuminating the normally invisible dust particles floating in the air. She empathised with those twisting and turning specks. Existing, yet not really having somewhere special to land and make a long-term home. A particular spot where they were really wanted.
Shoving several folders into the bag, Gila searched for the rest of her belongings. She was due to finish working at the clinic the following week, but each day she gathered a few more of her bits and pieces to take home rather than leave everything to the last day. She’d enjoyed volunteering at the clinic, but as her pregnancy advanced she found her energy sapping quicker with each passing week, often returning home utterly exhausted. She still had so much to organise before the baby came. Things she’d purposely put off, unwilling to do them alone. Hoping the situation with her baby’s father might change and improve. But it hadn’t, so it appeared that alone was exactly how she would be doing everything from now on. At least until the little one arrived.
She picked up her diary from the desk, her eyes falling onto the slim white band of skin on her left third finger. The place where her wedding ring once encircled. She’d removed it a week ago during a bout of tears and self-pity. One long lonely night, when the sight of it and everything it once represented mocked her one time too often for ever believing in happiness and love.
Her disruptive and unconventional childhood should have taught her better than to imagine that a normal happy life could finally be hers. That the pipe dream of a perfect marriage was actually achievable. Surely her own father’s many destructive short-term relationships and incessant itch to wander the world, pursuing one false dream after another, should have taught Gila that simple truth didn’t exist?
Yet despite knowing better, she’d hoped her relationship with her husband would be different. That it would last for ever and show everyone around them that she wasn’t an undependable relationship car crash like her father, but a responsible adult who lived an ordinary, contented life. After all, she’d witnessed her parent’s slip-ups so often, there was no chance she’d commit similar ones, was there?
Only, despite everything she’d thought and believed, it seemed she stupidly had.
In spite of all the promises she’d whispered to herself as a child on those nights when they’d slept on the pavements of unfamiliar streets because her father’s money had run out and the hotel they’d been staying in had evicted them. Or the days when she would sit alone on a balcony while her father spent time with yet another woman he’d met and tumbled into mock love with. Left and ignored while they made love in another room. Gila had forgotten all of those promises and naively fallen in love with a man who turned out not to love her as deeply as she thought. And now she was weeks away from having their child and the solitude of the situation she found herself in seemed to increase with each and every passing day.
As she closed the bag, a knock on the door drew her attention from her sombre contemplations. Forcing a lightness she wasn’t feeling into her tone and mood, she called out, ‘Come in.’
Trudy, the afternoon receptionist, who dressed similar to a nineteen-fifties Hollywood starlet, opened the door and flashed Gila a cheerful smile. Tall and stylish, she reminded Gila of everything she was not.
‘All finished for the day?’ Trudy asked.
‘Just packing up,’ Gila replied with a smile she wasn’t feeling. ‘I’m glad it’s nearly the weekend, though.’ No longer working full-time at the hospital, she had the rare luxury of the whole Easter weekend free and she intended to enjoy every minute. Well, perhaps enjoy was too ambitious a goal, considering the wreck her private life was in, but she refused to spend further time wallowing. She intended to finish the lemon baby’s blanket she’d started knitting a few weeks ago, despite the fact it looked nothing like the pattern’s picture, and then make sure she’d bought everything she needed for the baby’s imminent appearance.
‘I’ve a ton of things to do,’ she continued. Which wasn’t quite true, but she doubted Trudy wanted to hear that her weekends were actually the worst part of the week because the days dragged like old arthritic toes through a puddle of treacle and gave her the unwanted opportunity to lull over how everything in her life had changed from being perfect and wonderful into a huge dreadful and horrible mess within the matter of months.
‘I thought you’d want to know Reese Newman has walked in with her boyfriend, complaining of stomach pains. Any chance you can assist the doctor dealing with her? She behaves better with you.’
Reese, a teenager who was five months pregnant, struggled with every aspect of her pregnancy. She’d spent half of her life in foster homes and had been expelled from two schools, a fact she’d proudly informed Gila of the first time they met. She was also unfortunately rude and at times aggressive. She ignored most medical advice and spent her time following her on-off boyfriend as he committed one crime after another. She also had no settled home life or relationship with her birth parents, and loved nothing more than causing a scene.
Gila groaned softly and swung the bag onto her shoulder. Any other day she’d willingly deal with the girl’s abrasive manner, but today she was just too exhausted. ‘Must I?’
‘She’s with the new doctor right now,’ Trudy said, leaning against the door frame. ‘I doubt it’s going well. You know what she’s like with new people.’
‘New doctor?’ Gila asked, only half listening. Because a portion of the clinic’s staff consisted of volunteers, it wasn’t unusual for medics to come and go. Some stayed for a few months, others only a few days or weeks.
‘Wait until you see him,’ Trudy said with a grin. ‘The man’s gorgeous. Sexier than a top-ten heart-throb. Has lovely wavy dark hair that hits his shoulders.’ She tapped her own and smiled dreamily. ‘Makes a woman think all sorts of naughty thoughts about tugging it.’
‘I thought Dr Peters worked on Friday afternoons,’ Gila said, walking towards the door. Dr Peters headed the Accident and Emergency department at the local hospital, but volunteered several days a week at the clinic. She knew him well, but so far they’d both covered different shifts, so she hadn’t seen him during the weeks she’d been working at the clinic.
‘Normally he does, but he’s had to rush off to America to be with his daughter. Something about her child’s been taken ill and it’s not looking good. So he’s arranged for this new doctor to step in for a couple of weeks to cover his Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday shifts. I swear my knees shook when the man walked in and spoke to me. Gorgeous brown eyes. Like pools of melted truffles. Rich and completely bad for a female’s peace of mind. And his deep voice—wow.’
‘Really?’ Gila asked, mostly because Trudy expected it than any real interest in the new doctor. She was off men for good and wasn’t in the mood to drool over another handsome one. Besides, this advanced in her pregnancy the only salivating she did involved toffee-covered edibles. Doctors were especially off her menu.
‘How about a cup of raspberry tea before you go?’ Trudy suggested, moving back so Gila could step out of the room and into the corridor.
Gila winced at the idea, sickness creeping up her throat. She swallowed away the undesired taste and shook her head. She really wanted to go home, but, conscious of not wanting to be considered grumpy, she said, ‘If you have ginger and lemon, I’ll consider it. Raspberry tea just reminds me of morning sickness.’
Trudy laughed as they walked along the corridor and headed towards the consultation rooms. ‘It’s jam sandwiches for me. Someone told me during my pregnancy that they helped with alleviating morning sickness when I was carrying my twins, and to some degree they did, but now I can’t stand the smell of strawberry jam without wanting to run for the nearest bathroom. So are you looking forward to becoming a mum?’
This time Gila’s smile was genuine. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘Do you know what you’re having?’
‘No, I want it to be a surprise,’ she said, and in an effort to change the subject before it became even more personal, she asked, ‘Which consultation room is Reese being seen in?’
Trudy pointed to the one at the far end of the corridor. ‘Room three. Don’t forget to pop into the staff room before you leave. No sneaking off home hoping I won’t notice.’
Gila forced another smile, and promised, ‘I won’t.’
Moving in the direction of the consultation room, she rubbed a hand over her stomach once more. If Reese was in an awkward mood, Gila would need a ton of patience, because a sixth sense warned her that the next few minutes were going to be tough. She just didn’t realise how right that prediction would actually turn out to be.
* * *
Leo Wright listened to the pregnant patient and frowned. Both she and the young man who’d accompanied her had continued to complain and bicker since stepping into the consultation room. Despite several attempts to intervene and discover the reason for their visit, Leo still had no idea what ailed the young woman. The only clue he’d gathered while observing her movements was the way she kept wincing and placing a hand to the right side of her stomach.
