Midwife Under The Mistletoe

‘I’ll get on to these straight away, Dr McColl,’ Sheila called after him since he’d already left the main office to check all patients had left the premises. At this time of the evening, as the working day was winding down, the hubbub outside the treatment rooms had usually died down, but there were still a few voices ringing out from the reception area. Any out-of-hours emergencies now should have been referred to the hospital or the doctor on call for the area.

The notion that his perfectly executed schedule had been thrown into disarray ploughed grooves across Fraser’s forehead even before he was met with the debacle in the waiting area.

‘Lift your side up a little higher. Left a bit. How does that look now? Is it straight?’ Iona was balanced on a chair, trying to pin a gaudy gold-foil garland to the ceiling, with Victoria, the receptionist, as her partner in crime.

‘What the—?’ Fraser stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Iona, barefoot and on tiptoe, breaking every health and safety rule in the workplace. He was in danger of hyperventilating as he did a quick risk assessment of the scene.

‘Oh, hi, Fraser. I thought we could brighten the place up and make it look less sterile in here.’ Unlike the rest of the staff, who quickly made themselves scarce, Iona carried on decorating as though she was perfectly entitled to do as she pleased. It was one thing managing her own caseload but she didn’t have any authority outside that.

‘It’s supposed to be sterile!’ Fraser didn’t want to lose his temper when that would be a sign he wasn’t in control. Although the garish garlands draped across every available space, transforming the beige room into an eyesore of gold and red, hinted he hadn’t asserted his authority here as much as he’d believed.

‘Lighten up, Fraser. It’s Christmas. If you’re worried about the cost, it’s coming from my own pocket, not yours.

‘Fraser.’ This was exactly why she rubbed him up the wrong way. Iona gave no thought for the rules or decorum in the workplace, or anywhere else for that matter. The patients loved her easygoing persona but for Fraser that free spirit vibe was unsettling, as was anything that didn’t fit into his idea of conformity. It upset that safe environment he was trying to set up here, and quite frankly he didn’t know how to handle it.

Fraser had mistakenly believed Caroline had been the one person who’d understood him when they’d made their plans to get married and settle down into quiet family life, but when his father had died and he’d inherited the family estate he’d discovered the truth. Once Fraser had the means to make those dreams a reality Caroline had confessed they’d been nothing more than an idea she’d been paying lip service to, not a legitimate option. That level of deception had ultimately ended their relationship and Fraser’s hope for the future.

This was different, though. Iona wasn’t a love interest, so her casual attitude to life shouldn’t bother him on a personal level, but she was a staff member and they had rules in place here for a reason.

‘I appreciate the gesture,’ Fraser said diplomatically, doing his best to remain calm. Iona didn’t know him personally so wouldn’t understand the issues he had with the whole palaver at this time of the year.

They’d never gone in for the whole over-the-top lead up to Christmas at boarding school and the death of his mother on Christmas Eve had cemented Fraser’s dislike of the season. It was a reminder of the childhood he’d lost and the family that had never recovered from the devastation of cancer. Now he dreaded that last week in December more than ever since it was also the anniversary of his break-up with Caroline.

He’d made the mistake of trying to embrace Christmas last year in an effort to make it special for her with an over-the-top marriage proposal, including a horse-drawn sleigh and carol singers serenading them along the ride. Only she’d turned him down on the basis that he was ‘being fake’. Fraser couldn’t win and was now even less likely to get caught up in the fuss, reverting back to his true Grinchy self, unwilling to be one of those people who lost their minds for the sake of one anti-climactic day.

On the rare occasions his parents had retrieved Fraser for the holidays it had been a non-event anyway. They’d gone through the motions without ever getting bogged down in the sentiment. Whilst he’d yearned for this infantile nonsense as a child far from home, he’d learned to live without it.

Iona carried on making her mark on the recently painted ceiling, humming Christmas carols and reminding Fraser what a very long month December could be when you weren’t in the festive spirit.

‘As I said, I appreciate the gesture but we can’t have all of this cluttering up the surgery.’ He would’ve told her that if she’d sought his permission in the first place.

‘I think the patients will love it. It gives them something to focus on other than their aches and pains.’

Sure. They’d all end up with tinsel blindness on top of everything else.

‘I’m sorry, it’ll all have to go. It’s a health and safety hazard.’ Fraser began to detach the string of fairy lights from the reception desk.

‘Okay, I’ll give you the lights. They haven’t been assessed by a registered electrician but they are bonny. Perhaps I could bung more tinsel there instead. I have some neon pink somewhere...’ Iona clearly wasn’t going to give this up without a fight and, as had become the custom, Fraser would have to get tough to have his opinion heard.

He ripped down the cardboard Father Christmas she’d stuck to the counter and hoped it wouldn’t leave any sticky marks behind. ‘It’s all going to have to come down.’

Iona stopped this time. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

‘I don’t kid.’ He reached his hand up and tugged the large blue and silver foil star dangling from the ceiling until the tack holding it in place dislodged and pinged to the floor. This was exactly what he was talking about. One drawing pin in the wrong person’s foot and they could be facing a lawsuit. Luckily for them both he spotted the gold pin glinting on the dark carpet and retrieved it before it damaged more than his peace of mind.

‘What harm can a few decorations do?’ Iona faced him, her displeasure flaring in her big brown eyes and her full lips pursed into a tight line. It didn’t thrill him to note he was the one with the power to steal away the twinkling smile she wore for everyone else.

‘They’re a breeding ground for germs with so many sick people coming and going. Then there’s the dust. Think of how many asthma patients we have. Our appointment list is full enough without putting it under more stress.’ Deep down Fraser knew he was grasping for excuses but coming into the clinic every morning and being reminded of the worst days of his life was too much for him to bear.

‘Okay. Okay. I get it. I was only trying to do something nice. Talk about dampening the mood,’ she muttered as though he wasn’t there, and began dismantling her ceiling display.

‘I know, but perhaps next time you could check with me first instead of going rogue?’ Fraser understood her intentions had been good and would’ve preferred not to fuel this animosity between them, but Iona’s spur-of-the-moment actions were infuriating when they impeached on his carefully laid plans and tugged on emotions that needed to remain dormant for the remainder of this dreaded month.

‘Yes, sir.’ With her anger clearly still bubbling away, Iona yanked down the bunting she’d only finished hanging.

Fraser watched in horror as she tottered on the chair, clearly off balance, her arms freewheeling in the air as she fell.

With lightning-fast reflexes he rushed over and caught her in his arms before she hit the floor. Iona’s yelp softened to a gasp as he hooked a hand under her knees and one under her arms. Instinctively she latched her arms around his neck but that contact and the strong grip she had on him almost startled him into dropping her again.

The adrenaline rush was making them both breathe heavily and in that moment, holding her in his arms, their faces almost touching, it was easy to forget what they’d been fighting over, or even where they were.

She weighed very little, reminding him how delicate she appeared to be beyond the bravado. Despite her petite frame, she projected herself as a larger-than-life character but, with their clashing personalities stripped away for the time being, he was reacting solely as a man with an attractive woman pressed against him and was too stunned to do anything other than enjoy the sensation.

Iona blinked first. ‘You can put me down now. I think I’m safe.’

‘Sure.’ Fraser abruptly set her back on her feet and tried to compose himself. ‘Like I said, a health and safety nightmare.’

He ignored her tutting as she tore down the rest of the decorations, thankful that this moment of madness had passed, letting normal, tense service resume between them. It was easier to view her as a threat to his plans for a new, improved workplace than through any inappropriate romantic haze.

CHAPTER TWO (#u6142c713-cbd1-5409-9f02-dbe1f719002f)

AS SHE DID every morning, Iona arrived at the clinic with plenty of time to spare before she was officially on the clock. Due to the unpredictable nature of midwifery, scheduled meal breaks were impossible and she often had to eat on the road, if she managed to eat at all. So having a quick cup of tea and a bowl of porridge in the morning as she checked her schedule for the day ensured Iona had at least one proper meal in peace.

Today she was especially keen to get on the road as she’d booked the afternoon off. It was moving day and she was bursting with the excitement of transferring her belongings from her rental to her very own home. It wouldn’t take more than a few runs in the car with the meagre possessions she had, and some of her male colleagues had volunteered to give her a hand with the heavy lifting. The sooner Iona got around her patients, the sooner she’d get settled into her own place.

Except as she lifted her first spoonful of thick, oaty goodness to her mouth, a note in the blood results of one of her patients immediately threw her plans into chaos. Iona shovelled in her breakfast as quickly as she could while digesting the news that had come in.

At around five days old, babies were offered newborn blood spot screening, or a heel-prick test, where a small amount of blood is taken to screen for certain genetic disorders. In this case, the baby had tested positive for one of the listed conditions—phenylketonuria, or PKU for short. Although Iona had done some research into the illness during the course of her training, it was a rare metabolic condition she’d never personally come across before, with approximately only one baby in ten thousand in the UK a sufferer.

The genetic mutation for phenylketonuria was passed on by both parents who might not even have been aware they were carriers. PKU patients, unable to break down the amino acid phenylalanine, a building block of protein, could have a build-up of protein leading to brain damage without adherence to a strict low-protein diet. It was imperative the child be referred to the metabolic unit at the hospital as soon as possible to begin treatment and prevent any long-term damage.

Although modern advances thankfully kept the condition under control with the restricted diet and amino acid supplement to ensure normal development, Iona was aware the news would have a great impact on the family. Every new mum wanted to believe her baby was perfect and to be told otherwise could be difficult to accept and overwhelming.

She took a gulp of tea before pouring the rest down the sink and gave the dishes a quick rinse. There wasn’t liable to be a spare minute today but she had one more thing to do before she could hit the road and she wasn’t looking forward to it.

Every time she had thought about Dr McColl since last night her blood had boiled, sure his intense dislike of the season was to spite her. She’d made no secret of her desire to make this Christmas one to remember but Fraser seemed determined to thwart those efforts at every turn.

Iona told herself it was this battle of wills that made her react so passionately when she thought of him and nothing to do with whatever frisson she’d imagined when he’d caught her in his arms yesterday. She was no longer the kind of woman who let common sense be overridden by such a romantic cliché. It would take more than being swept off her feet and a handsome face for her to fall for another dominant male. Her sense of self was now defined by her home and her job, not by some fool idea of romance, love and that non-existent fairy-tale ending.

With a deep breath and a sharp knock on the door, she entered Fraser’s room out of courtesy rather than a desire to see him for the first time today. In too much of a hurry to waste time on pleasantries, she didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her.

‘I thought I should give you the heads-up on one of your patients, Marie Gillen. Her baby has tested positive for phenylketonuria.’

There was a slight rise of Fraser’s eyebrows before surprise was overtaken by furious typing on the computer keyboard.

‘Is this something you’ve encountered before?’ he asked over the sound of the printer whizzing into life.

‘Not first hand.’ The discovery of rare conditions always brought a range of emotion to the fore, with sympathy for the family at the top of the list. As a medical professional, though, Iona became curious to learn as much as she could to pass on to the parents so they were equipped to deal with whatever challenges were thrown at them. It had to be the same for the GPs who would go on to treat these patients, probably for the rest of their lives.