The Midwife's Child

ed the girl’s shoulders and Carly breathed in deeply.

‘That’s such a nice smell—what is it?’

‘Aromatherapy oils,’ Brooke murmured, shifting her position with a wince as Carly braced herself for another contraction.

Calmly and patiently Brooke helped her with her breathing, teaching her quickly the best way to ride the pain and explaining what her young body was trying to do.

‘Don’t fight it, Carly.’ She stroked the matted hair gently, using touch as a comfort. ‘Your body is an amazing thing. It’s pushing this baby out by itself and you’ve got to help it.’

Quietly she used visualisation techniques to help Carly relax and get her into a more positive frame of mind, and soon Carly was coping well with each contraction, her young face determined and almost calm.

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a genius?’ Jed slid quietly back into the room and watched with open admiration in his face as Brooke worked with the girl, helping her encourage her body to do what it was designed for.

‘Don’t tell her that, she’ll expect a pay rise,’ Gill said dryly from the doorway. ‘Brooke, I’ll stay with Carly for a few minutes—there’s someone who wants to talk to you in the staffroom.’

‘No!’ Carly’s expression was one of utter panic. ‘I don’t want her to leave me. Please, let her stay…’

Gill squatted down by the pool, her eyes kind. ‘There, pet, she’ll only be gone a minute and I’ll stay here with you until she comes back.’

Brooke frowned and straightened, her eyes questioning Gill, and then understanding dawned and she realised it must be Carly’s mother. Her chin lifted angrily and Jed put a restraining hand on her arm, his eyes flashing a warning.

‘Maybe you’re not the best person to do this,’ he muttered softly, glancing warily at Gill who obviously didn’t know Brooke’s history.

‘On the contrary, Jed, I’m exactly the right person.’ She shook off his hand and stooped to give Carly a big hug. ‘You are the bravest, most brilliant mum-to-be we’ve ever had on this unit, so keep it up. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

‘Hopefully with your mother,’ she muttered to herself as she left the room and strode towards the staffroom, her heart racing.

Mrs Baxter was standing facing the door, her hands twisting together as she waited for Brooke.

‘How is she?’ She took a step forward, her face working, and Brooke gave her a cool look.

‘Considering she’s barely thirteen years old and she’s currently going through one of life’s most painful experiences alone and without support, she’s holding out marvellously.’ Brooke’s eyes flashed but her words were controlled and professional. ‘In the past few hours your daughter has learned that she’s to be a parent, has coped with the agonies of an unsupported labour and has been rejected by her own mother. All pretty stressful, really.’

Mrs Baxter made a distressed sound. ‘I haven’t rejected her—but she’s made me so ashamed. I need time to get used to the idea—’

‘You haven’t got time,’ Brooke said frankly, her dark eyes cool but not entirely unsympathetic. ‘It’s not that I don’t understand that you’ve had a terrible shock, Mrs Baxter, but the truth is, it’s happened! Nothing can undo that, but by rejecting your daughter when she really, really needs her mum, you could do irreparable harm. I know that you need time to adjust, but Carly has needs too, and hers are immediate and she’s just a child. She needs her mother.’

Mrs Baxter closed her eyes. ‘What on earth are people going to say?’

Brooke hesitated and then decided that she just had to speak her mind. ‘I hope they’ll say that you stood by your daughter through thick and thin, showing her by example what good parenting is all about. I hope they’ll say that, although you were upset and embarrassed about the whole thing, you put Carly’s needs above your own and gave her the very best support you possibly could. I hope they’ll say that when the Baxters are in trouble, they stick together like glue.’

Mrs Baxter stared at her, her face working, and then she burst into tears, rummaging up her sleeve for a tissue. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, of course, it’s just so hard.’

Brooke bit her lip. She actually had a lot of sympathy for the mother but Carly’s needs were paramount in her opinion. ‘Do you love your daughter, Mrs Baxter?’

‘Well, of course I do!’ Mrs Baxter looked horrified. ‘Just because I’m angry at the moment doesn’t mean I don’t love her.’

Brooke gave her a crooked smile and opened the door. ‘Well, in that case I suggest you go and tell her that, and give her a bit of motherly love. So far she’s only had me cuddling her and I’m a total stranger. She needs her mother.’

Mrs Baxter hesitated and then took a deep breath and nodded. ‘Yes. Of course I’ll go to her. Take me, will you?’

Without wasting any more time, Brooke hurried her down the corridor and into the birthing room.

‘Mum?’ Carly was clutching Gill’s hand and panting while Jed scribbled something in the notes.

‘Sweetheart!’ Mrs Baxter crossed the room in an undignified rush, tears on her face. ‘Mummy’s here, pet…’

With that she folded the girl in her arms, ignoring the fact that she was wet from the pool, and Brooke swallowed back a lump in her throat. Thank goodness for that!