MIDWIVES ON-CALL

Welcome to Melbourne Victoria Hospital—and to the exceptional midwives who make up the Melbourne Maternity Unit!

These midwives in a million work miracles on a daily basis, delivering tiny bundles of joy into the arms of their brand-new mums!

Amidst the drama and emotion of babies arriving at all hours of the day and night, when the shifts are over, somehow there’s still time for some sizzling out-of-hours romance …

Whilst these caring professionals might come face-to-face with a whole lot of love in their line of work, now it’s their turn to find a happy-ever-after of their own!

Midwives On-Call

Midwives, mothers and babies—lives changing for ever …!

Eight special stories to collect and treasure:

Just One Night? by Carol Marinelli

Meant-To-Be Family by Marion Lennox

Always the Midwife by Alison Roberts

Midwife’s Baby Bump by Susanne Hampton

Midwife … to Mum! by Sue MacKay

His Best Friend’s Baby by Susan Carlisle

Unlocking Her Surgeon’s Heart by Fiona Lowe

Her Playboy’s Secret by Tina Beckett

These titles are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

ALISON ROBERTS lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, and has written over sixty Mills & Boon® Medical Romances™. As a qualified paramedic she has personal experience of the drama and emotion to be found in the world of medical professionals, and loves to weave stories with this rich background—especially when they can have a happy ending.

When Alison is not writing you’ll find her indulging her passion for dancing or spending time with her friends (including Molly the dog) and her daughter Becky, who has grown up to become a brilliant artist. She also loves to travel, hates housework and considers it a triumph when the flowers outnumber the weeds in her garden.

Always
the Midwife
Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader,

One of the perks of being a writer is the joy of including things that are special to me in my stories. Or exploring things that have always intrigued or inspired me.

I got to do this a lot in Aiden and Sophia’s story for the Midwives On-Call continuity, and that made it a real joy to write.

I adore Melbourne. I’ve spent a lot of time there in the last decade or so, because it’s home to some of my very best friends and my daughter has been living there for the last three years. So I got to include places like the Southbank, in the central city, and Queenscliff—which isn’t part of the city but is gorgeous, and so worth a day trip if you’re ever lucky enough to be spending time in Melbourne. I even gave one of my friends (and her dog) a cameo appearance in the Queenscliff chapter! :)

I also got to learn a lot more about Murderball, or wheelchair rugby, and I find that totally inspiring. Throw in some babies, a gorgeous motorbike paramedic for a hero and a ‘three dates’ rule that’s begging to be broken and it’s no wonder I had so much fun writing this book.

I hope you have just as much fun reading it.

With love

Alison xxx

For Annie, Carol and Linda—who will always make Melbourne a very special place to visit for me.

Love you all xxx

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Endpage

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE BLIP OF the foetal heart monitor had definitely slowed down. Her decision might be a no-brainer but Sophia knew it wasn’t going to be popular.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told her patient, ‘but I’m not happy with the way things are going. We need to get you to hospital.’

‘No-o-o …’ First-time mother Claire Robinson had her heart set on a home birth. ‘You said I’m almost fully dilated. It can’t be much longer.’

‘You’re exhausted, sweetheart. Every contraction is harder for you and things are slowing down.’ She still had the hand-held Doppler against the distended abdomen of the pregnant woman. ‘Can you hear that the baby’s heartbeat has slowed down, too? It’s a sign that baby is getting distressed.’

‘What does that mean?’ Claire’s husband, Greg, was looking pale and anxious. ‘Is the baby in danger? Is Claire in danger?’

‘No.’ Sophia hastened to reassure them both. ‘But that’s what I want to make sure isn’t going to happen. The labour hasn’t progressed quite the way we wanted and …’ How could she tell these parents-to-be, without scaring them, that it was her instinct that something wasn’t right that was making the transfer seem urgent? ‘Let me make a call and see how far away an ambulance might be.’

The call was answered instantly.

‘My name is Sophia Toulson,’ Sophia said. ‘I’m a midwife with the Melbourne Maternity Unit at the Victoria. I’m at a planned home birth …’ She moved away from the young couple, lowering her voice as she gave the address details and then voiced her concerns.

‘An ambulance is probably fifteen minutes away,’ the dispatcher told her. ‘But we do have a SPRINT guy in your locality.’

‘SPRINT?’

‘Single Paramedic Response and Intervention. An intensive care paramedic on a motorbike.’

‘I think we just need the transport,’ Sophia said. ‘It’s not an emergency …’ But she could hear the note of doubt in her own voice. An exhausted first-time mother and a stalled labour. The potential for an emergency was there. Was that why alarm bells had started ringing?

‘I’ll change the plan,’ Claire offered desperately, as Sophia ended the call. ‘I’ll have more pain relief than the gas. You can rupture the membranes. Whatever it takes …’ She was sobbing now. ‘We don’t want to have our baby in a hospital …’

‘I know.’ Sophia smoothed damp strands of hair back from Claire’s face. ‘But you know what the really important thing here is?’

She didn’t wait for a response. Greg was perched on the end of the bed, holding Claire in his arms as she lay back against him. She caught his gaze and then Claire’s.

‘My job is to keep both you and baby safe. At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that you get to hold your healthy baby in your arms. I promise that where the delivery happens is not going to take away even the tiniest bit of joy that moment’s going to give you.’

A joy that Sophia might never be able to experience herself but that didn’t mean she couldn’t share it happening for others. It was precisely why she’d chosen this profession. Why she loved it so much. And why she was so passionate about doing whatever it took to ensure a happy outcome.

‘That’s all I want,’ Greg said, his voice cracking. ‘For you both to be okay. We always said that we’d go to the hospital the minute we were worried about anything.’

‘But I’m not worried. I’m just so tired … Oohhh …’ Claire’s face scrunched into lines of pain.

‘Another contraction?’ Sophia reached for the Entonox mouthpiece. ‘Here you go. Deep breaths …’

The loud rap on the door made her jump. Surely the ambulance hadn’t arrived this quickly?

‘Shall I go?’ Greg asked.

Claire spat out the mouthpiece. ‘No—don’t leave me … It’s…. Ahhh …’

Sophia wasn’t going anywhere either. The contraction had produced a rush of fluid. Claire’s membranes had finally broken. It was a sign that her labour was progressing again but Sophia wasn’t feeling relieved. Quite the opposite.

The fluid soaking into the pad beneath Claire’s hips had the stain of meconium that meant the baby could be in trouble. And …

Oh, dear Lord … yes … that was a loop of umbilical cord showing.

‘G’day …’ The rich, deep voice came from behind her. ‘I let myself in. Hope that’s okay.’

Sophia looked up. The man was wearing a high-vis heavy-duty jacket. He had a motorbike helmet on his head with the red, white and blue colours of Melbourne’s ambulance service and the title ‘Paramedic’ emblazoned across the front. The chin-guard and visor were flipped up so that she could see his face but she barely registered what he looked like. There was relief to be felt now—that she had professional help in what had just become an obstetric emergency.

‘Claire’s waters just broke,’ she said quietly. ‘We’ve got a cord prolapse.’

‘What’s that?’ Greg was leaning in, trying to see what was happening. ‘What’s going on? And who are you?’

The paramedic’s helmet was off by the time he’d taken two steps closer. ‘I’m Aiden Harrison,’ he told Greg. ‘Here to help.’ He was right beside Sophia now. ‘Modified Sims position?’

‘Knees to chest, I think. Claire? We’re going to get you to turn over, I want you on your knees with your bottom up in the air. Greg, can you help?’

‘What? Why?’ Claire was panting, recovering from the contraction. ‘I don’t want to move.’

‘We’ve got a small problem, guys.’ The paramedic had dropped his helmet and leather gloves, along with a rolled-up kit he’d been carrying. He didn’t sound stressed. Rather, he made it sound as if whatever the problem was, it was going to be easily remedied. ‘Your baby didn’t read the rule book and part of the umbilical cord has come out first. We need to take any pressure off it, which is why we’re going to let gravity give us a hand. Here … let me help.’

Somehow he managed to make it seem like nothing out of the ordinary to be getting a woman in labour to get into what seemed a very unnatural position, on her knees with her head lowered. Sophia was ready with the Doppler to check the baby’s heart rate again.

Aiden listened, his gaze on his watch. ‘Ninety-eight,’ he said. ‘What was the last recorded rate?’

‘One-forty.’ Sophia ripped open a packet of sterile gloves. In a blink of time, this had become a potential disaster. The baby’s oxygen supply was being cut off. ‘I’m going to try and ease the pressure.’

‘Oh, my God.’ Claire wailed. ‘What’s happening?’

‘You’re going to feel me inside,’ Sophia warned her. ‘I’m going to be pushing on baby’s head to take the pressure off the cord.’

Greg’s face was as white as a sheet. ‘How are you going to take her to hospital if she has to stay in that position?’ He glanced sideways to where the paramedic had discarded his bike helmet. ‘You’re not even driving an ambulance, are you?’

‘No, mate. I ride a bike. Gets me where I’m needed faster.’ Aiden reached for the radio clipped to his shoulder. ‘SPRINT One to Base. How far away is our back-up?’

They could all hear the woman’s voice on the other end. ‘Should be with you in less than ten minutes.’

‘Copy that. Make it a code one.’ He nodded at Greg. ‘Hang in there, mate. We’re under control.’

‘I’m getting another contraction,’ Claire groaned. ‘Ohhh … I want to push …’

‘Don’t push,’ Sophia warned. ‘Not yet.’

She looked up to find Aiden’s gaze on her face. A steady gaze but she could see he knew exactly what she was trying to decide and the almost crushing responsibility for making the right choice here.

‘The cord’s pulsatile,’ she told him. ‘And Claire’s fully dilated.’

Aiden nodded. If they were in hospital right now, an assisted delivery with forceps would be the fastest and safest way to get this baby out. With Sophia using two fingers to push on the baby’s head, the cord was being protected and the blood and oxygen supply was still adequate. She knew what she was doing, this midwife. Intelligent-looking woman, in fact, which probably explained the anxiety he could see in her eyes. She had to know exactly how dangerous this situation was for the baby.

Her hand was probably already aching, although Aiden couldn’t detect any signs of discomfort. Could she keep this up until they arrived at the hospital? The other option was not to slow down a natural delivery but to try and speed it up. To get the baby out fast enough to avoid potentially devastating complications from lack of oxygen. She was still looking at him and he got the feeling she was following his train of thought.

‘She’s also exhausted,’ she added. ‘Labour’s been a bit protracted. That was why I called for an ambulance in the first place. I’m not sure …’ Sophia bit her lip as her words trailed to an inaudible whisper. She hated feeling indecisive and it rarely happened, but a baby’s life was at stake here and there was another option. But if they encouraged Claire to push and she was too tired to be effective, they would have to wait for another contraction and they could end up in a much worse position, with the baby’s head cutting off any oxygen supply. The baby could end up with severe brain damage. Or it could die.

The weighing-up process was lightning fast but agonising. Sophia found she was holding the gaze of the paramedic. Light brown eyes, a part of her brain noted. Unusual. It was a calm gaze but it was intelligent. He knew what the issues were. It was also confident. Crinkles appeared near the corners, like a smile that didn’t involve a mouth. There was a good chance they could pull this off.

It was Aiden who broke the eye contact. He crouched beside the bed so that he could look up at Claire who had her forehead resting on clenched fists.

‘How tired are you, Claire?’ he asked.

‘She’s stuffed, mate.’ It was Greg who responded. ‘We never thought it was going to be this hard, you know?’

But Aiden didn’t seem to be listening. He was holding Claire’s frightened gaze now.

‘The best thing for your baby is going to be getting born as fast as possible,’ he said. ‘And we can help but you’re going to have to do most of the work. Do you think you could do that?’

‘I want to push,’ Claire said with a sob. ‘But I’m scared.’

‘We’re here with you. How ’bout we give it our best shot with the next contraction?’

‘O-okay. I’ll try.’

‘Good girl.’ He was smiling at Claire now and the mix of approval and confidence in his voice was compelling. Sophia could have felt defensive about having someone else make that decision for her, but instead she was as ready as Claire to put every effort into making this work. She believed it was the right decision. It would work.

Who was this knight in shining armour who’d ridden up on a motorbike instead of a horse just as things were turning to custard? This paramedic with his warm brown eyes and streaked, golden-blond hair that made him look like a surfer.

When the next contraction was due a couple of minutes later, they turned Claire onto her back again and Sophia released the pressure holding the baby’s head away from the cervix and the cord. The clock was ticking from that moment on and the three of them, Aiden, Sophia and even Greg—who couldn’t help but catch the urgency—coached Claire into giving everything she had. And then a bit more.

‘You can do it,’ Aiden told her firmly. ‘Push, push, push. Keep going. Push.’

‘Crowning,’ Sophia confirmed. ‘Keep going, Claire.’

‘You’re doing great,’ Aiden continued. ‘But don’t stop. We can’t wait for another contraction. This is it. Push …’

‘Can’t …’ The groan was agonised.

‘Yes, you can. You are doing it. You’re awesome … One more push, that’s all we need.’

Good grief, this man had the most amazing voice. Sophia could feel her own abdominal muscles clenching. She wanted to push—how ridiculous was that?

‘Oh, my God …’ Greg’s voice was choked. ‘I can see him, Claire. Our baby.’

Sophia could see him, too. Could touch and help him into the world, but she’d lost track of how many minutes it had taken since the blood and oxygen supply had been cut off by the pressure of the baby’s head and body on the prolapsed umbilical cord.

The baby was limp and blue. It looked lifeless.

Her heart sank like a stone. This had been the wrong decision, then, to let imminent labour progress instead of stalling it and trying to get Claire to hospital before she delivered. This was her patient and her responsibility. How could she have allowed this man she’d never even met before to come in and take charge the way he had? It would be unthinkable to lose a baby like this.

But the motorbike-riding paramedic was by her side, with a kit unrolled and resuscitation gear at the ready and she hadn’t yet lost faith in the calm confidence he displayed.

A tiny bag mask to deliver oxygen. Fingers that looked so large against a fragile chest delivering compressions that were gentle but effective.

‘Come on, little guy. You can do it. You’re gonna be fine …’

The words sounded incongruously casual but Sophia could see the intense concentration in the paramedic’s eyes. The fierce determination to save a tiny life.

And there was movement. A gasp as lungs expanded for the first time. A warbling cry. Skin colour that was changing from a deathly blue to a much healthier pink. Arms and legs beginning to stir.

‘Hey … welcome back, little guy.’ Aiden’s hands cupped the baby to gently lift and place the newborn boy against his mother’s skin. Both Claire and Greg had tears streaming down their faces. There was an overpowering sense of both relief and joy but fear hadn’t been banished yet.

Sophia was watching anxiously. With the level of resuscitation needed, the baby would have still been under intense monitoring in a clinical setting, not being held and touched like this by his parents.

And then Aiden’s gaze shifted away from the infant.

‘Apgar score nine at five minutes,’ he murmured. She could swear there was a ghost of a wink accompanying the report. He knew how anxious she was and he wanted her to know that he was still doing his job—that the baby was being carefully monitored. Sure enough, she could see him resting a finger lightly on the baby’s upper arm, taking a brachial pulse. She could stop worrying and focus on Claire. She could deal with the delivery of the placenta and check for any tissue damage.

The emergency was over, almost as quickly as it had appeared.

The ambulance would be arriving within minutes and then they’d have the bustle of preparations to transfer the new family to the maternity unit, where Claire and the baby could both be checked by specialists, but this was a gift of time.

Private time in their own home—the place they had wanted to be in to welcome their first baby.

Aiden stepped back. He stripped off the gloves he’d put on to work on the baby and moved to one side of the room, where he propped an elbow on a tall chest of drawers. He was due to go off duty and he had his usual visit to make as soon as he was done but he wasn’t going to leave until the back-up arrived and he didn’t want to crowd the young parents as they had their first minutes with their newborn.

Besides, he could watch the midwife as she dealt competently with the delivery of the placenta, transferring it to a bowl where she inspected it for any damage that could suggest part of it had been retained. She was tiny, he noticed. Only a bit over five feet tall. Funny that he hadn’t noticed how small she was before. Maybe that was because she’d given off the impression of being confident. Good at her job and in control.

She hadn’t felt so in control at one point, though, had she? He remembered that almost telepathic communication between them as they’d weighed up the option of whether to try and stall the labour or push it forward.

Her eyes were a rich brown, weren’t they? A nice match for her hair, which had an auburn tinge to its dark colour. It was pinned up to her head to keep it out of the way and Aiden found himself wondering how long it would be if it was unpinned. How soft it might feel.

Good grief … Okay, she was pretty cute but there was no need to get carried away.

But then she looked up from her work and her smile told him there was nothing to worry about.

He could feel that smile as much as he could see it. Gorgeous was the only word for it.

Sophia hadn’t noticed the paramedic moving to the other side of the room. Had he apparently read the vibes in the room in the same way he’d seemed to ever since he’d walked in the door?

He’d done the perfect thing, anyway, so she followed his example. Any more cleaning up of either mother or baby could wait until the ambulance arrived. This was a time these new parents could never have again and it was precious. She wasn’t about to leave the room and Aiden had chosen the spot that was far away enough to be unobtrusive while still being available so it was a no-brainer to move quietly until she was standing beside him.

He acknowledged her arrival with a grin.

‘Good job,’ he said softly. ‘Thanks for inviting me.’

Her breath came out in a huff of laughter. How could anyone make a life-threatening emergency sound like a party? But paramedics were like that, weren’t they? They lived for the adrenaline rush and a ‘good’ job was one that other medical professionals dreaded having to face. She’d met paramedics who came across as cowboys—galloping from one callout to the next and overeager to show off their skills.

This one rode a motorbike, for heaven’s sake. A mechanical horse. And he’d had no hesitation in taking command and encouraging management that had had the very real potential to have ended in disaster.

Except it hadn’t, had it? Another glance at the bed was enough to bring a lump to Sophia’s throat. The baby lay in Claire’s arms, tiny eyes open and staring up at his parents. Greg’s fingers were touching the tiny starfish hand of the baby and his head was touching Claire’s. They were both looking down, aware of nothing but their newborn infant. They were talking softly, too, counting fingers and toes and doing what all new parents did in the first minutes of sharing the miracle of new life.

They had probably forgotten the presence of their medical team and wouldn’t even hear the murmur of other voices but Sophia looked away, unconsciously allowing them a little more privacy.

It was somewhat startling to find that the paramedic was still looking at her.

‘Babies are my favourite thing,’ he said softly. ‘It was a treat.’

For the first time since he’d let himself into the house, she realised how good looking he was. Oh, she’d noticed the brown eyes and the way they crinkled at the corners and the streaky blond hair. She’d been aware of the intelligence and intense concentration his features could advertise. But he was still grinning at her and she was distracted enough from her patient to appreciate the way everything came together. And not just his face. He had a presence that she’d appreciated on a professional level. Now she was getting the full force of it on a very personal level. Was it so overpowering because he was so much bigger than she was?

No … everyone was pretty much taller than her when she could only boast five feet three inches in bare feet and he probably seemed broader because of the jacket he was still wearing but he gave the impression of a large man. A powerful man, yet she’d seen how skilful those hands had been, positioning the baby’s head and fitting the mask to the tiny face. How carefully controlled and gentle his movements had been.

It felt like something was melting deep inside her belly.

He wasn’t just incredibly good at his job. He’d done it with humour. With an ability to defuse a terrifying situation. With a confidence that had given them all the belief that they could do it and maybe that had been the reason why they had been able to do it.

Her smile felt odd. As if she was offering him something that she had never offered anyone before on such short acquaintance. Something that came straight from her heart.

‘It’s me who should be thanking you,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t believe I told Dispatch that we only needed transport, not a SPRINT paramedic.’

‘I was eavesdropping on the radio traffic. I’d just ordered a coffee not far away.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t suppose it’ll still be hot when I go back.’

‘I owe you one, then.’

The crinkles appeared around his eyes again. ‘Might just hold you to that.’

Were the butterflies dancing in Sophia’s stomach embarrassment? Did he think she was flirting with him? Suggesting a date, even?

If he did, he didn’t seem put off. Or any less relaxed.

Maybe the butterflies were there for an entirely different reason. How long had it been since she’d met such an attractive man? One who had impressed her on so many levels?

Not in the last six months, that was for sure. Changing cities and throwing herself into a new job had left no time at all to think about expanding her social life to include men. She was only beginning to gather a new circle of girlfriends.

Not that this one would be interested, anyway. She could hear an echo of his voice. Babies are my favourite thing …

She could feel herself becoming tense. Trying to squeeze something tight enough to suffocate those damned butterflies.

Could he sense that, too? A flicker of something she couldn’t identify passed across his face.

‘Might be hard to call in the debt,’ he said. ‘When I don’t even know your name.’

‘Oh …’ She hadn’t introduced herself, had she? How rude was that? He’d have paperwork to fill in for this job. He would need more details about Claire as well. ‘I’m Sophia,’ she said. ‘Sophia Toulson. I’m a midwife.’

His grin widened as an eyebrow lifted. ‘I should hope so.’

The information about their patient she’d been gathering mentally to help him with his report evaporated as Sophia laughed.

Those cute eye wrinkles deepened and his eyes danced. ‘Come out with me,’ he said softly. ‘Sophia Toulson, midwife extraordinaire. Come out with me tonight. I’ll take a beer instead of a coffee as payment of that debt.’

Sophia’s smile died on her lips.

She wanted to say yes.

She really, really wanted to say yes, but she could feel her head beginning to roll from side to side.

‘No … I can’t … I …’ The words followed her smile into oblivion. How could she possibly even begin to explain why she had to say no?

Not that Aiden seemed offended by the rejection. His shrug was casual. ‘No worries. Maybe another night.’

And then there was a loud knock on a door outside the room. ‘Ambulance,’ the call came, along with the rattle of a stretcher’s wheels.

The snatch of time was gone and Sophia realised that it would have been better spent starting the enormous amount of paperwork she needed to do to record everything that had happened during the emergency birth.

And then she caught Aiden’s glance and, if the same thought had occurred to him, he didn’t care—he was happy having spent that time doing exactly what they had been doing. And, suddenly, so was she.

Inexplicably happy, in fact, given that she’d denied herself the pleasure of spending more time in this man’s company.

But he’d asked. And, for a blink of time, she’d considered saying yes.

That feeling of connection hadn’t been one-sided and that, in itself, was something to feel happy about.

Wasn’t it?

CHAPTER TWO

IT MUST HAVE been enough because that happiness stayed with her for the rest of her shift.

In fact, this was turning out to be the best day yet since Sophia had made such big changes in her life, leaving her home town of Canberra to shift to Melbourne.

Word had spread quickly through the Melbourne Maternity Unit about her successful management of an obstetrical emergency in the community. With its international reputation for excellence, the MMU attracted the best in the field but this case was earning her congratulations from every quarter.

Alessandro Manos, who headed the neonatal intensive care unit, had been the specialist called to check the baby and he’d been thorough.

‘There’s no sign of any complications from oxygen deprivation,’ he told Sophia. ‘He’s a lucky little boy that you were there to manage the birth.’

She fastened the disposable nappy and reached for the soft sleep suit Claire had given her to bring up to the unit.

‘It wasn’t just me. I probably would have chosen to try and delay the birth and get her in here if I hadn’t had some expert paramedic assistance. He was …’ Oh, yes … there was a definite extra buzz to be found in the satisfaction of a job well done. ‘He was really amazing.’

‘Who was?’ Isla Delamere—Alessi’s fiancée—had popped into the NICU. Her look suggested that the only amazing man around there was her husband-to-be.

‘The paramedic who helped me through an acute cord prolapse this afternoon.’

‘Oh, I heard about that. How’s the baby?’

‘Perfect.’ Was Alessi referring to the baby he’d just checked? His gaze was resting adoringly on his wife as he spoke.

Sophia’s smile had a poignant edge. They might have wanted to keep Isla’s pregnancy secret for a bit longer but the news had slipped out and there was no way these two could hide how they felt about each other. They were so happy. And why wouldn’t they be? They’d found love and were on the way to being a family.

That had been her own dream once.

People probably assumed it still was. That—like most women her age—she was simply waiting to find the right person to make that dream come true. Only her best friend, Emily, knew that there was no man on earth who could put the pieces of her dream back together.

That it had been permanently shattered.

Maybe it was just as well that the baby scrunched up his face and started crying at that moment.

‘I’d better take this little guy back to his mum. She’ll be missing him and he’s hungry.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Isla said. ‘I want to hear more about this paramedic. Was he hot? Single?’

Sophia shook her head as she wrapped the baby in a cotton blanket and picked him up. An image of those unusual brown eyes, somewhere between hazel and chocolate, flashed into her head. She could even see the crinkles in the corners—the smile that had seemed intimate because it was only intended for the person who had the eye contact.

‘Hot enough, I guess,’ she said lightly. ‘But I doubt very much that he’s single.’ Liar, her mind whispered. He wouldn’t have asked you out if he wasn’t single. Her voice rose in pitch as it tightened. ‘And even if he was, I wouldn’t be interested.’

‘Why not?’ Loved up herself, Isla was keen for everybody to share her happiness. And maybe she’d picked up on the fact that Sophia was being less than truthful. ‘Work is where most people find their partners, you know.’

‘I’m not looking for a partner.’ With the baby, who’d stopped crying for the moment, in her arms, Sophia led the way out of the ICU and headed towards the room where Claire had been taken for assessment. ‘And I do go out. I’m going out tomorrow.’ This was a good opportunity to change the subject. ‘You’re coming, aren’t you? To the gardens?’

‘For Em and Oliver’s vow renewal ceremony?’ Isla smiled. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. I think everybody from the MMU is going. It’s the perfect way for everyone to move forward, isn’t it?’ she sighed, probably unaware of the way her hand touched her own belly so protectively. ‘Em’s very brave, isn’t she?’

‘She certainly is.’ Sophia’s arms tightened a little around the precious bundle she was carrying, jiggling him as he started grizzling again. They’d all known that Emily’s foster-daughter would only have a short life but her death had been gutting. Only last week they’d all gathered in the children’s section of Melbourne’s botanical gardens to attend the memorial service for little Gretta. So many tears had been shed as the CEO of the Victoria Hospital—Charles Delamere—had spoken so beautifully about how Gretta’s short life had touched the lives of so many others.

They’d all been clutching pink balloons that had been released into the sky at the end of the ceremony. The balloons had all held little packets of seeds—Kangaroo paws—all different colours. Apparently they had been Gretta’s favourite and Emily had a vision of new plants growing all over Melbourne. It had been a beautiful ending to a very touching ceremony.

‘The plan is that later anyone who can will head for the Rooftop for a drink.’

‘I heard that. Did I tell you that Darcie’s bringing Flick?’

‘The midwifery student?’

‘Yes. She’s due to start shadowing you next week. We thought it would be a good way for her to get to know everyone a bit better. You don’t think Emily will mind, do you?’

‘It’s an open invitation. We all know Em and Oliver and everyone’s thrilled that they’re back together. The sad bit’s been dealt with and this is about the future. It should be a good party.’

‘How formal is it?’

‘Not at all. You can wear whatever you like. But I did talk Em into buying a new dress and getting her hair done so I don’t plan to turn up in jeans myself.’

Emily Evans had been the first real friend that Sophia had made after moving to Melbourne. They’d clicked instantly and it had been Emily who had helped Sophia settle into her new job and home so happily. An evening with a few wines a couple of months into their friendship had sealed the bond when they’d realised how much they had in common. Their journeys may have been very different but the result was the same—they would never know the joy of holding their own newborn infants in their arms.

Had it been stupid to pick this career? Leaving Isla behind, Sophia had a few moments alone, holding Claire’s baby boy. This was the part of her job she loved best. The weight of the tiny body that fitted so snugly against her chest. The joy in the mother’s face as she handed it over. Watching a tiny mouth latch onto a breast for that first feed …

It was always there, though … that empty feeling in her own arms. The ache in the corner of her own heart.

Emily’s journey had been slower. The hope had still been there for all those attempts at IVF and it must have turned to such joy when she’d finally carried a pregnancy almost to term. How devastating would it have been to experience the stillbirth of her son?

More devastating than it had been to wake from an emergency surgery to be told that you’d not only lost your baby but that your uterus had had to be sacrificed to save your life? There would never be a transition period of chasing an IVF dream to lead to acceptance for Sophia. She’d only been twenty-one but her life had changed for ever that day.

But it hadn’t been stupid to choose this career. Yes, she could have shut herself away from the emotional fallout by choosing a nursing career that had nothing to do with babies or children, but that would have only made the ache worse in the long run and at least, this way, she got to share the joy every day of her life pretty much.

Love always came with some fine print about what you were risking but if you never took that risk, you shut yourself off from what life had to offer. Nobody had ever promised that life was easy and she’d seen more than her fair share of heartbreak in this job, but she’d seen far more people reaping the rewards of taking risks.

Look at Em. She’d chosen to love two children who weren’t even hers, both with medical conditions. She’d been brave enough to risk the heartbreak she’d known was coming right from the start. Sophia had thought she was being brave, becoming a midwife and working with other people’s babies every day, but, compared to Em, she was still hiding from life, wasn’t she?

The next half-hour was happy enough to banish any personal reflections as Sophia spent time with Claire and Greg and the baby who now had a name—Isaac.

The first breastfeed was no drama and she left the happy parents preparing to go back home for their first night as a family.

Weaving through the busy, inner-city streets to get back to her small, terraced cottage when she finally signed off duty wasn’t enough of a distraction, however. The ache was a little heavier today. Not just the empty ache of not having a baby to hold. There was the ache of not having a hand to hold. Having someone in her life who was her special person.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t making new friends here. Good friends. It was because she was essentially alone. She had no family nearby. Her best friend was back with her husband. Sophia had no one who was always available to share the highs and lows of life. And a best friend could never take the place of a life partner, anyway. She had no one to cuddle up to at night.

How stupid had she been, turning down that offer of a date with Aiden Harrison?

Why couldn’t she be a bit braver?

If only she could turn the clock back to that moment. She could see those dancing eyes so clearly. A mix of attraction and humour and … confidence that she would say yes?

He hadn’t been upset by her stuttering refusal, though, had he?

Maybe, by now, he was feeling relieved.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Sophia gave herself a mental shake. She needed to get over herself or she wouldn’t be contributing anything positive at tomorrow’s celebration. Maybe she needed to take a leaf out of Emily’s book and convince herself that the risk of loving was always worthwhile.

Maybe she could even go down that track herself one day and think about fostering kids.

‘It’s only me.’ Aiden let himself into the big house in Brunswick—his usual stop on his way home. ‘Where is everyone? Nate?’

A dark head popped out from behind a nearby door. ‘We’ll be out in a sec, Aiden. The other boys are in the lounge.’

The lounge was a large room and, like all the other rooms in this converted house, it had polished wooden floors. Unlike most lounges, it had very little furniture, however, because the residents didn’t need sofas or armchairs. The four young men who lived here were all quadriplegics who needed a high level of domestic and personal assistance. The youngest lad, Steve, was only eighteen. Nathan, at twenty-four, was the oldest.

Not that his younger brother intended to live here for long. This was a halfway step—a move towards the kind of independence he really wanted. At some point they were going to have to talk about it and maybe tonight would be a good time. While he hadn’t said anything yet, Aiden was worried about the idea of Nate living independently. He himself had a demanding job and he wouldn’t be able to drop everything and go and help his brother if something happened. At least here there were always carers on hand and it was a lot better than the residential home he’d been in for the last few years.

Or was the anxiety about the future more like a form of guilt? That he hadn’t been able to care for his brother himself when the accident had happened because he’d only been a kid himself?

That it was his fault that the accident had happened in the first place?

That, if Nathan was capable of living in a normal house, he’d want it to be with him and then he’d have to take full responsibility. Oh, he’d have a carer to come in a couple of times a day to help with the transfers from bed to wheelchair and for the personal type care of showering and toileting, but what about the rest of the day? What would happen if Nate fell out of his chair or something and he was in the middle of a job like that obstetric emergency today?

He wanted his brother somewhere he was protected and surely this was as good as it got? This was like a regular blokes’ flat, with a sports programme playing on its huge-screen television and guys sitting around, yelling approval at the goal that had just been scored.

And then he saw what they were watching. Murderball. The loud, fast and incredibly aggressive form of wheelchair rugby that Nate was currently passionate about. Two of the other guys in the house were part of a local team and Nate was desperate to make the grade. Physically, he certainly qualified.

Many people thought that quadriplegics—or tetraplegics—were always totally paralysed from the neck down but the repercussions of a cervical injury or illness were as individual as the people who suffered them and they were graded according to whether the impairment was complete or incomplete and by how much sensory and motor function remained.

With the C6 spinal injury Nate had received at the age of ten, he had little movement or sensation in his lower body. Thankfully, the injury had been incomplete so he still had a good range of movement in his upper body and better hand function than many. If he got his strength up, he’d probably be lethal on a Murderball court.

‘Hey, Aiden. Wassup?’

‘All good, Steve. How ’bout you?’

‘This is our game from last week. Wanna watch?’

‘Sure. Not for long, though. I promised Nate I’d take him out for a beer tonight.’

The young woman who’d greeted him came into the lounge. With her short, spiky black hair and facial piercings, Samantha was unlike any of the carers he’d come across in the years of Nate’s care so far.

‘He’s out of the bathroom, Aiden. You can help him finish getting dressed if you want.’

Nathan’s face lit up as Aiden went into his room.

‘Hey, bro …’ The hand held up for a fist bump took away any awkwardness of the height difference between the brothers and Nate’s lack of hand strength. ‘What do you call a quadriplegic on your doorstep?’

Aiden rolled his eyes. ‘I thought you’d given up on the quadriplegic jokes.’

‘Matt.’ Nathan snorted with laughter and then pushed on one wheel of his chair to turn it towards a chest of drawers. ‘What do you reckon? Leather jacket or the denim one?’

‘Either’s good. We’re going to a garden bar but it’s not cold out. Want a hand?’

‘Nah … I’m good.’

Rather than watch Nate’s struggle to put the jacket on unaided, Aiden looked around his brother’s room. The poster collection was growing. Action shots of Murderball games, with wheelchairs crashing into each other and flipping sideways and the occupants only staying with them because they were strapped in.

He waved a hand at the posters. ‘You could get really injured doing that stuff, you know.’

‘Nah.’ Nathan had one sleeve of his jacket on but it was taking a few attempts to get his other hand into a sleeve hole. ‘A cracked rib or a squashed finger, maybe. Wouldn’t be calling you out with any lights or sirens. Hey … any good jobs today?’

‘Yeah … Last call was the best. This midwife was calling for transport to take a home birth in to the maternity unit in the Victoria because it had been going on too long. I overheard the call and decided to poke my nose in just because it was handy and things were quiet. Thought I’d just be waving the flag but the minute I walk in, the woman has a contraction and, boof! Umbilical cord prolapse and it’s turned into an emergency.’

‘Wow. What did you do?’

Aiden settled himself onto the end of Nathan’s bed. This would need a few minutes because Nate always wanted a blow-by-blow account of every interesting job. If he’d been able-bodied, he would have been a paramedic himself, no question about it. You’d think he’d only be reminded of what he’d never be able to do by hearing about it but he never seemed to get enough of hearing about Aiden’s professional exploits.

Or anything else about his big brother’s life, come to that. He particularly loved to hear about the women he met and those he chose to date. What they looked like, where they’d gone on their dates and whether they’d stayed the night. He’d been careful how much he’d said about the midwife on today’s job because Nate would have picked up on that pretty fast and, for some reason, Aiden hadn’t wanted to answer the inevitable questions about how cute she was or whether she was single and, if so, why hadn’t he asked her out yet?

Nate was so sure that someone was going to come along one day who would make him break his three-dates rule. Aiden was just as sure it would never happen.

If he couldn’t take responsibility for his own brother’s well-being, why the hell would he make himself responsible for anyone else? He didn’t even own a dog, for heaven’s sake, and he’d chosen a medical career where he generally never had to see his patients more than once.

Aiden Harrison was only too well aware of his limitations when it came to relationships and he’d found the perfect balance. Life was good. And it would continue to be good as long as Nathan didn’t insist on putting himself at risk. Yes … tonight was the night for having a serious talk about the future.

‘Let’s go.’ He matched the invitation with movement, standing up and opening the extra-wide door so that Nathan could manoeuvre his wheelchair into the hallway.

‘Is it okay if Sam comes too?’

‘Huh?’

‘Samantha. You know … my carer? I asked her if she’d like to come out and have a beer with us and she was keen. There’s plenty of staff on tonight so it’s no problem.’ ‘I … ah …’ Was he going to be playing gooseberry while his brother was having a date?

Surely not.

But why not? He knew better than anyone that a disability didn’t change who you were and his brother was an awesome guy. Why wouldn’t a girl be smart enough to realise that? He had to admit it was a disturbing thought, though. What if Nathan fell in love and got his heart broken? Maybe a man-to-man talk about how well the three-dates rule worked needed to take priority over the talk about how risky independent living could be.

Not that either of those talks was going to happen tonight.

‘Sure,’ he heard himself saying, as though it was no big deal. ‘There’s plenty of room in the van. Maybe one of the other guys would like to come too.’

‘Nope.’ Nathan scooted through the door ahead of him. ‘I only invited Sam.’

They were in a very different part of the botanical gardens this time. The guests crowded around the couple who were standing beneath the wrought-iron archway on the steps to the Temple of the Winds. The greenery of overhanging trees shaded them from the hot sun of a stunning autumn afternoon and once again Charles Delamere was in place as the master of ceremonies

‘Ten years ago,’ he told them, ‘Emily and Oliver made their wedding vows. Circumstances, grief, life drove them apart but when the time was right fate brought them together again. They’ve decided to renew their vows, and they’ve also decided that here, in the gardens that are—and have been—loved by the whole family, is the place they’d like to do it.’

Emily and Oliver exchanged a look that was tender enough to bring a lump to Sophia’s throat. She glanced over at Toby, Em’s foster son, who was being held by Em’s mother, Adrianna. This was a real family affair.

There had been so many tears at Gretta’s farewell in the children’s playground and there were probably just as many as the couple exchanged heartfelt vows, declaring their love and promising their commitment, but there was real joy this time. An affirmation that the risk of truly loving was worthwhile.

It was contagious, that hope. Maybe there was someone out there for her, Sophia thought. Someone who could see past the fact that she could never give him children of his own. Maybe she could find what Emily and Oliver had. How good would that be?

Something would have to change, though, if she was going to become as brave as Emily. Not that she knew quite what that something was but she was definitely going to give it some serious thought.

And, in the meantime, she could celebrate her friend’s happiness. The Rooftop Bar was a good place to be on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Adrianna took little Toby home after a short time but told Oliver and Emily to stay and celebrate with all their friends. She would sort the final packing that was needed before they all went on their family honeymoon to the Great Barrier Reef the next day.

As often happened, the men gravitated together at one point and Sophia found herself sitting with a group of the women she knew best around a deliciously shaded table. Right beside Emily, she impulsively gave her friend another hug.

‘I’m just so happy for you, Em. For you and Oliver. You so deserve every bit of this happiness.’

‘It’ll be your turn next.’ Emily’s smile was radiant. ‘I’m sure of it.’

Isla overheard the comment. She was smiling as she refilled Sophia’s glass with champagne. ‘Good timing that she’s met that hot paramedic, then, isn’t it?’

‘What?’ Emily’s jaw dropped. ‘How come I haven’t heard about this? Who is he?’

‘Nobody,’ Sophia muttered. ‘Just a guy that turned up for that cord prolapse job yesterday.’

‘And he’s gorgeous,’ Isla added. ‘Soph said so.’

‘I said he was good at his job, that’s all.’

‘She couldn’t stop talking about him.’ Darcie Green had joined them. ‘I can vouch for that.’

Emily’s sideways glance was significant. ‘Just remember what I told you,’ she said, raising her glass. ‘You don’t have to marry the guy. Just get out there and have some fun.’

‘Why shouldn’t she marry the guy?’ Isla asked, between sips of her tall glass of soda water. ‘Have you got something against marriage, Soph?’

‘Not at all. I’m thrilled for Oliver and Em. And for you and Alessi. And …’ Sophia glanced around the table, trying to distract the focus of attention. ‘And what’s going on with you and Lucas, Darcie? I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to notice the sparks flying at the ball.’

Lucas was the super-hot senior midwife at the MMU and, while the husbands of the women about to give birth were less than impressed with his popularity, there was no shortage of expectant mums keen to become his patients. No shortage of women in Melbourne just as keen to fill another potential role in his life either.

Darcie was an English obstetrician, on secondment to the MMR. She was dedicated to her job and professional enough to have made several people sharpen up at work. Lucas didn’t seem to be in that number, however, and the antagonism between them had been noted on the grapevine, but the obvious sparks at the ball had not come across as being between two people who didn’t like each other. Not at all.

Not that Darcie was about to admit anything. She shrugged. ‘We all had a good time at the ball,’ she said, carefully avoiding eye contact with any of the other women. ‘But if there was anything serious going on, I’d say it was between Flick, here, and Tristan.’

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the women and more than one knowing smile accompanying the nods.

‘I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to see you two leaving together,’ Darcie continued lightly. ‘Just what time did you get home, young woman?’

Felicia Lawrence, the student midwife, turned bright red. For an awful moment, Sophia was sure she was about to burst into tears.

Whatever had happened that night was really none of their business. Sophia needed to give her an escape route.

‘So you two aren’t dating or anything interesting like that, then?’

Flick shook her head with more emphasis than was needed. ‘I’m not remotely interested in dating,’ she claimed. ‘My career’s the only important thing in my life right now. Like Sophia.’

‘I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in dating.’ Sophia eyed her glass of champagne suspiciously. Had she had too much? ‘I just … haven’t met anybody. It takes time, you know—when you move to a new city.’

‘But you’ve met the hot paramedic now.’ Darcie was smiling. ‘What was his name? Andy?’

‘Aiden.’ It seemed to be Sophia’s turn to blush now. She could feel the warmth in her cheeks as she said his name aloud. ‘Aiden Harrison.’

‘Is he single? Did he ask for your number?’

‘No.’ She bit her lip. ‘He did ask me for a date, though.’

‘And you said no? What were you thinking?’

Darcie and Flick seemed very relieved to have the spotlight turned onto someone else’s love life and, for Flick’s sake, Sophia was happy enough to take centre stage.

‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe I thought he was just being nice. I’d said I owed him a coffee because he’d had to abandon one to come to the job. He said he’d take a beer instead. It seemed—I don’t know—a bit of a joke, maybe?’

‘Nonsense,’ the women chorused. She was gorgeous, they assured her. Intelligent. Fun. Any guy would have to be crazy not to be genuinely interested.

Emily caught her glance in a private moment. She was the only one who might understand that moment of panic. That dip into a whirl of thoughts that had been spinning for so many years now. The issue of meeting someone you really liked and then agonising over when to tell them. On the first date? Did you say something like, ‘Yeah, I’d love to go out with you but you should know that if you want to have kids some time in the future then I’m not the woman for you’? Or did you wait until things got serious and then field the repercussions of someone feeling a bit cheated? Deceived, even.

Yes. Emily’s glance was sympathetic. But there was something else there, too. Encouragement?

‘What does it matter if it did start out as a bit of a joke?’ she said. ‘Isn’t the whole idea to have fun? To let your hair down a bit and enjoy the best of what life has to offer that doesn’t have anything to do with work? It doesn’t ever have to be anything serious.’

You don’t have to marry the guy. Was that code for ‘You don’t have to even tell him’?

‘How many guys do we know who have no intention of getting serious?’ she added. ‘They’re just out to have fun. We could learn something from those guys.’

‘Like Alessi.’ Darcie nodded. ‘Oops … sorry, Isla, but he was a terrible flirt and nobody lasted more than one night. Until you, of course …’

‘Not a good example,’ Emily chided. ‘But you’re right. Soph could use a bit of that attitude and just get out there and enjoy herself with some attractive male company.’

Sophia found herself nodding. And hadn’t she just made a silent vow that very afternoon that something needed to change in her life? Maybe she wouldn’t have to give too much thought to what that something was.

‘Maybe I will,’ she said aloud. ‘Not that there’s anyone around who’s offering the company.’

‘The hot paramedic did. You’re probably putting anyone off asking by sending out I’m not available vibes. Change your attitude and they’ll be around in droves. You might even meet him again.’

Sophia laughed. ‘I don’t think so.’ But she reached for her glass of champagne, feeling lighter in spirit than she had for a long time. ‘But, hey … I’ll give it a go. The next time I get asked out—especially if it’s the hot paramedic—I’ll say yes.’

‘Promise?’ Emily raised her glass to clink it against Sophie’s. The other women followed her example and the glasses met in a circle over the centre of the table.

‘I promise,’ Sophie said.

CHAPTER THREE

HE HAD THE best job in the world, no doubt about it.

Aiden was rolling slowly, the red and blue lights on his handlebars flashing as he eased through the crowds on Southbank. The wide, paved area on the south side of the Yarra River offered spectacular views of the river and city from cafés, restaurants and upmarket hotels.

The gorgeous autumn afternoon had tourists and locals enjoying the exercise, food and entertainment. A juggler had attracted a good crowd and so had an old aboriginal man playing a didgeridoo. Aiden could hear the hollow, haunting notes of the music over the bike’s engine. He angled his path to avoid smudging the work of a street artist who was working with chalk and then he could see his destination. Another huddle of people, but they weren’t there for entertainment. He’d been called to a woman who’d collapsed on one of the riverside benches beneath the trees.

‘I’ve put her in the recovery position,’ a man told Aiden as soon as he’d propped the bike up on its stand. ‘I did a first-aid course last year.’

‘Good work.’ He flipped up the chinguard of his helmet. ‘Did anyone see what happened?’

‘She was walking around, looking weird,’ someone else offered. ‘Like she was drunk. And then she sat down and just toppled sideways.’

Aiden had reached the unconscious woman. He stripped off his gloves, tilted her head to make sure her airway was open and then felt for a pulse in her neck. It was there. Rapid and faint enough to suggest low blood pressure. Her skin felt cool and clammy. He shook her shoulder.

‘Hello? Can you hear me? Open your eyes, love.’

No response. Aiden looked up. ‘Does anyone know this woman? Was she with someone?’

There was a general sound of denial and shaking of heads. Aiden checked for a MedicAlert bracelet or necklace as he ran through the possible causes of unconsciousness in his head. He couldn’t smell any alcohol and there was no sign of any head trauma. The woman was young, probably in her early thirties. This could be due to epilepsy or drugs or diabetes. At least he could eliminate one of the possible causes easily. Unrolling a kit, he took a small lancet, pricked the woman’s finger and eased the drop of blood onto a testing strip for a glucometer. He also reached for his radio to give Dispatch an update. Whatever was going on, here, this young woman would need transport to hospital.

The glucometer beeped and it was a relief to see that the reading was low. Hypoglycaemia certainly fitted with the limited information he’d been given of her appearing drunk and then collapsing. It also fitted the physical signs of the clammy skin, rapid heart rate and a low blood pressure. Back-up was on the way but it would take time to get a stretcher through the crowds from the nearest point an ambulance could park and Aiden had everything he needed to start treatment.

IV access was the first priority and there were plenty of willing hands to hold up the bag with the glucose infusion. He got the small cardiac monitor out of one of the panniers on the back of his bike as well. It had only been a few days ago that he’d read an interesting article suggesting that sudden death in young diabetics could be due to cardiac problems from electrolyte disturbances.

The glucose infusion was working its magic well before he started attaching electrodes. The young woman opened her eyes, blinked a couple of times and then groaned.

‘Oh, no … it happened again, didn’t it?’

‘I’m Aiden, a paramedic. What’s your name, love?’

‘Hayley. I …’ She looked up at the crowd of onlookers. ‘Oh … God … this is so embarrassing.’

‘You’re diabetic?’

‘Yeah … I knew I needed to eat. That’s why I came along here. I was heading for the food court in Southgate. It came on so suddenly …’

Aiden could see an ambulance crew manoeuvring a stretcher through the crowd. More people were stopping to stare, wondering what was going on. No wonder the poor girl was embarrassed. The sooner they got her into the privacy of the back of an ambulance, the better.