‘He’s the best there is. I’m not going near that apartment until I know he’s out of the way. I value my life.’
They sat in silence for several minutes and then the larger of the two men gave a sigh of satisfaction.
‘There he goes. He’s not letting Santini out of his sight.’
‘Which means that he’s not watching the apartment. Now what?’
His friend gave a nasty smile. ‘We go upstairs and leave Carlo Santini a message.’
* * *
Helen Hughes was waiting for them on the labour ward.
‘How did you know?’ She glared at Carlo and then screwed up her face as another contraction hit her. It was half a minute before she could finish the conversation. ‘You said that I wasn’t going to cook Christmas dinner. How did you know?’
‘Experience. And instinct.’ Carlo gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I had a lousy night. Backache, leg-ache, headache—you name it, it ached. Then I got up to make a cup of tea and my waters broke so I started Christmas morning by cleaning the floor. I’ve been getting regular contractions ever since.’
Carlo nodded. ‘OK. This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to examine you to check what’s happening and then, providing your cervix has dilated sufficiently, I’m going to put a scalp electrode on the first baby’s head to help us monitor his heart-rate.’
Helen looked worried. ‘What about the other twin?’
‘We’ll monitor that one externally,’ Zan assured her, helping her onto the bed while Carlo washed his hands and pulled on a pair of gloves.
She opened the pack for him and got everything ready.
‘You’re three centimetres dilated, Helen,’ he said eventually, reaching to pick up the electrode. ‘I’m just going to attach this to his scalp.’
His fingers moved swiftly and skilfully and he attached the electrode with the minimum of fuss. Then he connected it to the machine.
Helen looked at it doubtfully. ‘What on earth does that thing measure?’
Carlo ripped off his gloves and tossed them into the bin. ‘It allows us to watch the baby’s heart and how it responds during each contraction. Zan will put an external monitor on the other twin now, so that we can measure his heartbeat, too.’
Zan strapped the ultrasound transducer to Helen’s abdomen and checked that she had a heart trace.
‘That seems fine.’ She glanced up at Carlo. ‘Do you want to get a line in?’
She knew that it was important to have intravenous access in twin delivery because of the risk of complications.
‘Definitely.’
He explained what they were doing to Helen and then waited until another contraction had passed before he found a vein and inserted a venflon.
‘Are the babies in the right position?’ Helen looked worried, but Carlo gave her a reassuring smile.
‘The first baby is fine, and we don’t worry about the second one until the first is safely born. Once he has room to move he might change position,’ Carlo explained. ‘After delivery of the first twin we will scan you to check on how the second one is lying.’
‘You always call the baby him,’ Helen pointed out tartly, and Carlo gave a sheepish grin.
‘Because all Italian men are chauvinists. We always call babies him until proved otherwise.’
‘So what happens if it’s a girl?’ Helen teased. ‘Do you refuse to deliver it?’
‘Of course not.’ Carlo gave her a wink. ‘I love girls.’
‘I can imagine.’ Helen’s tone was dry and Zan changed the subject. She didn’t want to think about the fact that Carlo loved girls.