Christmas Eve: Doorstep Delivery (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 7)

‘No, but the only other available midwife is Sandy and she’s so in love with you she can’t concentrate. Hayley actually seems to manage to be in love with you and still get her work done.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ She was in love with him? Patrick frowned. No. Of course she wasn’t.

‘And you care for her, too. I’ve never seen you as happy as you’ve been over the past week. Marry her, Patrick,’ Maggie advised. ‘Don’t hesitate.’

‘Maggie, I barely know her. She’s been over here for less than a week.’ And it had been the most frustrating week of his life. Apart from Christmas night when they’d been on their own without the children, they’d made a point of staying away from each other. And abstinence was driving Patrick nuts.

‘Right. Enough of this.’ Striving to hold onto his sanity, he changed the subject. ‘Anything going on upstairs that I ought to know about?’

‘Katie King’s blood pressure went up so she’s fed up because she knows you won’t be sending her home.’

‘She’s right. I won’t.’ Patrick sat back in his chair. ‘What else?’

‘Vicky Thomas has gone into labour. She came in last night.’

‘Vicky? Why didn’t anyone call me?’

‘Because you deserve the odd evening at home with your family,’ Maggie said mildly. ‘Tom sorted her out last night. He said he owed you that one. He adjusted her insulin. He said he was going to call you to discuss it.’

‘He didn’t. No doubt he’s in new father mode. All right—I’ll go up and see her when I’ve finished clinic. What about—?’ Patrick broke off as someone tapped on the door and opened it.

It was Hayley, wearing the dark blue scrub suit that all the midwives wore, her dark hair fastened haphazardly in a twist at the back of her head. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you—I’ve just seen a woman who is thirty-six weeks and I’m worried about her. She says she has flu—she’s been ill over Christmas.’

‘Another one?’ Maggie sighed and walked towards the door. ‘The Lake District is simmering with germs at the moment. I still have three midwives off sick.’

Patrick was looking at Hayley, trying to keep his mind on the job. ‘You’re worried?’

‘Yes. I don’t think it’s flu.’

‘What are her symptoms?’

‘Vomiting, epigastric pain, headache, shivering.’

‘Vomiting? Could be norovirus,’ Maggie murmured, but Hayley shook her head firmly.

‘It could be, but I don’t think it is. Her face is swollen, and she looks…’ Hayley shrugged. ‘I don’t know—I just have a bad feeling. I think she could be showing signs of pre-eclampsia.’

Maggie checked the list in her hand. ‘What’s her name? Who is her consultant?’

‘She isn’t local. That’s the other reason I’m worried. She told me that she was checked in clinic just before Christmas. They told her that a certain amount of swelling is normal, but her ankles are so bad she’s having to wear her husband’s slippers.’

Patrick stood up. ‘She’s staying up here?’

‘With her family over Christmas. And in the last week she’s put on 4.5 kilos.’

‘It is Christmas,’ Maggie said cautiously. ‘I haven’t dared stand on the scales myself, but I’m willing to bet that—’

‘No.’ Hayley interrupted her with a brisk shake of her head and Patrick found himself wondering how she could be so confident in her work and so under-confident in the rest of her life.

But that was the impact of her step-siblings, he thought, knowing only too well what damage family could do.

‘I know it’s Christmas,’ Hayley said, ‘but I’ve questioned her carefully and she hasn’t eaten much—she’s been feeling too ill.’

Patrick was already by the door. ‘Blood pressure?’

‘She says it’s been “high normal” for the past two months but the hospital didn’t seem to think there was any reason to worry. It’s 140 over 100.’

‘Urine?’