The Midwife's One-Night Fling

As she walked to L&D Freya rolled over the top of her trousers as they were way too loose. Her uniform consisted of dark blue trousers and a pale blue top and it was less than flattering. She couldn’t care less, but the sizing must be off because it hung off her. Although she had lost a bit of weight since she’d arrived, due to the constant busy pace and the lack of time to do a proper shop.

As she pressed the green button and the doors to L&D parted she saw a woman pushing an IV, walking the corridor with her support person. Freya gave them a smile.

She checked the board and saw that Dr Mina was the obstetrician in charge today. In the short while she had been at the Primary, Freya had worked with her several times, and found her incredibly efficient as well as a calming presence to the patients.

The hand-over was in depth, so that everyone was well-versed on all the patients—both those present now and those expected to arrive over the course of the shift.

‘Freya, can you take over from Angela in D5?’ asked Pat, the midwife in charge of L&D today. ‘She’s awaiting an epidural, but finding an anaesthetist this morning is proving a rather hard ask.’

‘Has the second-on been paged?’ Freya asked, and that earnt her a wry smile from her colleague.

‘Everyone’s been paged, but there’s been a five-car pile-up on the M25 and there was already a dissecting triple A being rushed to Theatre, along with a collapse on the paediatric ward. Then we had to call the Crash Caesarean Team out half an hour ago. Right now Anaesthetics are snowed under, and it’s a case of if a patient’s screaming then at least they’re breathing.’

Freya took a breath of her own. That patient-load sounded like a full week’s work in Cromayr Bay at the height of summer, but it was just another morning at the Primary.

Or not. Because then Pat explained that it had been an exceptionally busy night in Casualty too.

‘Just remind Kathy in D5 that she hasn’t been forgotten. Her husband, Ben, is getting upset.’

Freya checked her patient’s details and then went into the delivery suite. The lights were low and the suite was dim, and Kathy was kneeling up and holding on to the head of the delivery bed as Angela pressed a hot pack into her back.

‘Hi, there,’ Freya said as she approached. ‘I’m Freya. I’m—’

‘Are you an anaesthetist?’ Kathy’s husband snapped.

‘No, I’m a midwife,’

‘Not good enough! My wife has been waiting for two hours for an epidural.’

‘Please, Ben,’ Kathy implored, but then her face screwed up and she leant on her forearm as a contraction came.

Angela helped her through it as Freya checked all the equipment. Angela brought her up to speed with Kathy’s progress, but then gestured with her head to the door. Freya followed her out.

‘The husband is getting really tense and it’s upsetting Kathy,’ Angela said.

‘I can see that.’ Freya nodded.

‘He’s a great guy—he’s just terrified. But Kathy has still got a good way to go. I’ve called down to Casualty but two of their patients are currently being transferred to ICU, so they’re very tied up. The anaesthetist in our theatre is aware, though he’s probably half an hour or so away.’

‘Okay...’

‘You could try calling Switch and asking—’

‘No need.’

A voice she recognised, though she hadn’t heard it since her orientation day, caused Freya to turn around.

‘Oh, Richard!’ Angela sighed in relief. ‘Am I pleased to see you.’

‘Not as pleased as your patients will be. What room?’

‘D5 is first,’ Angela said. ‘It’s all set up for you.’

‘Thanks, Angela,’ he said. ‘Freya.’

She gave him a smile. ‘Richard.’

Finally she knew his name.

And, more than that, he was still stunning.

He had been wearing scrubs when they’d met, but this morning he wore a dark suit and a crisp white shirt with a silver-grey tie. His straight hair was damp, and rather more in need of a cut than the last time she’d seen him, and he was unshaven.

In seconds she took in every delicious detail, and the last few didn’t quite fit. He was so well turned out that the unshaven jaw stood out for Freya.

Instead of heading to the suite, he took the patient’s notes and walked over to the desk. The sharp, fresh scent of his cologne lingered. Freya saw him removing his jacket as she followed Angela back into D5.

‘Good news,’ Angela said. ‘The anaesthetist is here.’

‘Well, where is he, then?’ Ben demanded.

‘Dr Lewis is just reading up on the notes.’ Angela gave Kathy a lovely smile. ‘I shall leave you in Freya’s hands. You’ve been amazing, Kathy.’

Kathy nodded and tried to say goodbye, but was overwhelmed by another contraction. Freya took over, rubbing Kathy’s back and trying to establish a rapid bond with the woman, and also with her husband.

‘Would you like to come and rub her back?’ Freya suggested, but Ben stood against the wall and gave a tense shake of his head.

Yes, it was all terribly different from anything she was used to. Usually Freya would have seen her patients at antenatal clinic, and often their partners too.

‘Well done, Kathy,’ Freya said as the contraction faded. Knowing that the anaesthetist was here, Freya suggested that Kathy empty her bladder and walked with her, pushing the IV pole, to the en suite bathroom attached to the delivery room.

‘He’s nervous,’ Kathy said, explaining Ben’s behaviour.

‘Of course he is,’ Freya said. ‘It’s hard work for the women but it’s hell on the men.’

That made Kathy laugh a little.

Freya waited outside, and when Kathy came out after washing her hands, she asked Freya a question. ‘Do you have children?’

‘No.’ Freya said. ‘I’ve got nieces and nephews, and my best friend’s expecting, but I’d definitely like my own someday.’

She was actually enjoying getting to know the women here, and opening up to people who didn’t know her at all, Freya realised. At home, had she said that, it would have been all around town that she and Malcolm were trying for a baby.

‘We tried for ages...’ Kathy sighed. ‘I thought it would never happen.’

‘Well, it clearly is.’

‘Thanks, Freya,’ Kathy said as Freya pushed the IV pole. But as they got to the door she paused. ‘Please...’ she said. ‘Don’t mind Ben. His bark is far worse than his bite.’