The Baby Emergency

Still wanted.

A fresh batch of tears was adding to the sparkle in her eyes and, blowing her nose loudly, Shelly practised a forced smile in the mirror and picked up the cake. Looking down at her bump, her free hand went back for a final comforting stroke of the baby within. ‘Come on, little one, let’s get this over with.’

‘Shelly!’ Her name seemed to be coming at her from all directions as her colleagues welcomed her warmly, welcoming her straight into the click of things, but despite the smiles and casual chit-chat, not one of them managed to look her in the eye.

Not one of them asked how her pregnancy was progressing.

Except Melissa.

The playroom on the children’s ward was for once void of patients and anxious parents, filled instead with staff, some in uniform, some like Shelly in regular clothes, all clutching cups and paper plates, all there to say goodbye to a certain doctor who in his six-month rotation had brought more vitality and energy to the ward than most did in their whole careers.

Like a radar homing in, Shelly made her way over to her staunchly loyal colleague, grateful in advance for the quiet support Melissa in her own unique way would impart. ‘Quite a spread,’ Shelly said, handing Melissa her cake. ‘Anyone would think it was one of the consultants leaving, not a temporary intern.’

‘I know,’ Melissa sighed. ‘Ross can’t believe it himself. I think he expected a cake and a couple of bottles of warm cola, but just look at the turn-out! People like Ross don’t come along everyday, though. We’re all going to miss him.’

And there was Shelly’s second reason.

She didn’t want to say goodbye.

Again.

Didn’t want Ross Bodey, who’d breezed into her life at various intervals over the years, to breeze out again. Didn’t want the smile that had brightened her day, the funny chats and sometimes serious insights to end.

It wasn’t as if she was alone. Not one person in this room wanted him to go. Ross in his own easygoing, light-hearted way had turned the ward around. Even Tania, the rigid unit manager, had somehow loosened up under his good-natured teasing. Everyone here today was going to miss him.

Especially Shelly.

Over the years they’d grown close.

Very close.

Oh, nothing to be ashamed about. They’d been friends for ages. Shelly had met him first when she’d been doing her midwifery training and Ross had been but a lowly second-year medical student.

The occasional coffee in the canteen had been a welcome interlude, listening as Ross had planned his travels, determined to fit the most into his summer semester break, happy too to let Shelly chatter on as she’d planned her engagement party.

Friends, nothing else.

The five-year age gap between them seemingly unfillable. Ross ready to party, Shelly ready to settle down.

Even when Ross had breezed back this time, ready to resume their friendship, Shelly hadn’t had a qualm of guilt. There was nothing in their friendship that threatened her marriage. There was a bond between them, that was all: something special that gelled them. They didn’t keep in touch or anything, their friendship only extended to the workplace, but it was their unique bond that made Ross call for her when he needed a hand, that made Shelly ring him first if there was a sick child she wanted seen. OK, maybe she did check the doctors’ roster with more than a faint interest these days, and maybe she had put up her hand for a couple of extra shifts when Ross had been on, but there was no harm in that, there was nothing wrong in a man and woman being friends.

Ross was twenty-five years old, for goodness’ sake, into nightclubs and trendy clothes. A world away from Shelly’s contented suburban existence: happily married, excitingly anticipating the birth of her first child.

Till now.

‘Fancy coming out for a drink at the weekend?’ Melissa’s invitation was casual enough but it was loaded with caring and Shelly bit back the sting of tears.

‘I might just take you up on that.’

Dear Melissa. For all Shelly’s friends, for all the colleagues who had squealed with delight when they had found out she was pregnant, who had beguiled her with horror stories of their own pregnancies and labour, Melissa, fifty, single and childless, had been the only one to call her up again and again when she had been permanently greeted by the answering-machine. The only one who had ignored Shelly’s frosty response and had pressed on regardless.

When friends were being doled out, Melissa had been a treasured find.

‘Shelly!’

Finally a pair of eyes were actually managing to look at her.

Very blue eyes, almost navy in fact; the dark lashes that framed them a contrast to the blond hair flopping perfectly and no doubt intentionally onto his good-looking face.

‘Hi, Ross.’ The forced smile was still in place and Shelly widened it an inch. ‘Given that it’s your last day, are you going to finally admit that you do dye your hair?’

‘Never.’ Ross grinned. ‘How would I find the time for all that palaver with roots and regrowth? You’re just going to have to accept that I’m naturally good-looking, isn’t that right, Melissa?’

‘No comment.’ Melissa shrugged good-naturedly then she let out a deep throaty laugh. ‘Who am I trying to kid? You’re stunning, Dr Bodey, you know it and so does everyone else. Just don’t let it get to your head.’

Waddling off, she left an open-mouthed Shelly gaping in her wake. ‘I do believe Melissa was flirting.’

‘Terrifying, wasn’t it?’ Ross winked.

The smile she had been forcing was coming more naturally now and Shelly took the plastic cup he’d brought over for her and took a quick sip of some very questionable cola.

‘Thanks for coming, by the way. I know you’re on days off.’

‘As if I wouldn’t have said goodbye. What are you doing tonight, having a big family send-off?’

‘Hardly.’ He gave a quick shrug and for the tiniest instant Shelly could have sworn she registered the beginning of a frown, but it soon faded, the nonchalant smile she was so used to soon back in place. ‘They’re used to me wandering off by now. It’ll just be a case of too many beers with a few choice friends. Come if you want.’

In Shelly’s present mood, Ross’s invitation didn’t even merit a response and Shelly didn’t bother to try.

‘Come on,’ Ross pushed. ‘I’ll even shout you a cola, with ice,’ he added, grimacing as he took another sip.

‘It’s better I don’t, I’m not exactly in the mood for a party. Anyway, we’re going to the tennis tonight.’

‘You lucky thing,’ Ross exclaimed. ‘It’s the quarterfinals too. I’ve been trying to get tickets all week—how did you manage to swing that?’

‘I didn’t,’ Shelly sighed. ‘We’re going with Neil’s work, another boring night making small-talk. Still, at least I can distract myself looking at the players. Who knows? Maybe one of them will see me sitting there in the stands and fall head over heels then whisk me away from all this.’ She caught his quick grin. ‘I’m allowed to fantasise, aren’t I?’

‘Of course,’ Ross said, that quick grin splitting his face now. ‘But given that it’s the women’s quarterfinals tonight, Shelly, that particular fantasy of yours is doing terrible things to my blood pressure!’

‘Ross!’ Shelly exclaimed, the first laugh she had expended in days spilling out of her lips as she blushed a rather unbecoming shade of claret and quickly changed the subject. ‘So, are you all packed?’

‘No.’ He shrugged as Shelly’s eyes widened.

‘But you’re going tomorrow.’

‘So? I’ll pack in the morning. I don’t think I’ll need much in the middle of the outback, a few shorts and T-shirts, a pair of boots. No doubt you’d have had checklists as long as your arm, trying to cram everything into ten suitcases.’

‘Probably,’ Shelly admitted with a begrudging smile. ‘I just like to be—’