Midwife...to Mum!

‘Third pregnancy, the last two were straightforward. She’s had the usual colds and flu, a broken wrist and stitches in her brow from when she walked through a closed glass slider. Full-time mum.’

Ally looked at her patient list. ‘Brenda Lewis?’

‘First pregnancy, took six months to conceive, family history of hypertension but so far she’s shown no signs of it, twenty-five years old, runs a local day care centre for under-fives.’

Her anger deflated and laughter bubbled up to spill between them as she stared at this man who had her all in a dither with very little effort. ‘That’s amazing. Do you know all your patients as thoroughly?’

‘How long have you got?’ He grinned. ‘Makes for scintillating conversations.’

Deliberately rolling her eyes at him, she said, ‘Remind me not to get stuck with you at the workplace Friday night drinkies.’

‘Shucks, and I was about to ask you on a date,’ he quipped, in a tone that said he meant no such thing.

So he was as confused as she was. That didn’t stop a quick shiver running down her spine. She’d love to go out with this man. But hello. If that isn’t a wedding ring, then what is it? He’s obviously a flagrant playboy. ‘Sorry, doing my hair that night.’

‘Me, too,’ he muttered, and left her to stare at his retreating back view.

A very delectable view at that. Those butt muscles moved smoothly under his trousers as he strode down the hall, those shoulders filled the top of his shirt to perfection. A sigh trickled over her bottom lip. He would’ve been the perfect candidate for her next affair. Flynn might be the one you can’t easily walk away from.

‘Get a grip, man,’ Flynn growled under his breath. How? Ally was hot. Certain parts of his anatomy might’ve been in hibernation for the past couple of years, but they weren’t dead. How did any sane, red-blooded male ignore Ally without going bonkers?

‘Flynn.’ Megan beckoned from the office. ‘Can you explain to this caller why she should have a flu jab?’

‘Can’t Toby do that?’ The practice nurse was more than capable of handling it.

‘Busy with a patient and…’ Megan put her hand over the phone’s mouthpiece ‘… this one won’t go away.’

‘Put her through.’ He spun around to head to his consulting room. See? You’re at work, not on the beach with nothing more important to think about than getting laid. Forget all things Alyssa. Alyssa. Such a pretty name, but it had been blatantly obvious no one was allowed to use it when talking to their temporary midwife.

‘Dr Reynolds.’ Mrs Augusta’s big voice boomed down the line, causing him to pull the phone away from his ear. ‘I’ve been told I have to have a flu injection. I don’t see why as I never get sick.’

Except for two hits with cancer that had nearly stolen her life. ‘Mrs Augusta, it’s your decision entirely but there are certain conditions whereby we recommend to a patient they have the vaccination. Your recent cancer puts you in the category for this. It’s a preventative measure, that’s all.’

‘Why didn’t Megan just tell me that?’

‘Because she’s our receptionist, not a qualified medical person. It’s not her role to advise patients.’

‘All right, can you put me back to her so I can book a time? Sorry to have been a nuisance.’ Mrs Augusta suddenly sounded deflated, all the boom and bluster gone.

‘Pat, is there something else that’s bothering you?’

‘No, I’m good as gold, Doctor. Don’t you go worrying about me.’

‘How about you make an appointment with me when you come for your jab?’

‘I don’t want to be a problem, Doctor.’

That exact attitude had almost cost her life. By the time the bowel cancer had been discovered it had nearly been too late and now she wore a bag permanently. ‘I’ll put you back to Megan and you make a time to see me.’ When he got the receptionist on the line he told her, ‘Book Mrs Augusta in with me at the first opening, and don’t let her talk you out of it.’

A glance at his watch on his way out to the waiting room told him he was now behind the ball as far as keeping on time with appointments. ‘Jane, come through.’ As he led the woman down the hall, laughter came from the midwife’s room. Sounded like Ally and Holly were getting along fine. A smile hovered on his mouth, gave him the warm fuzzies. Everyone got along with their temp midwife.

Jane limped into his room on her walking cane and sat down heavily. ‘I’m up the duff again, Flynn.’

Not even ten o’clock and his second pregnant patient of the morning. What had the council put in the water? ‘You’re sure?’ he asked with a smile. Nothing ever fazed this woman, certainly not her gammy leg, not a diabetic three-year-old, not a drunk for a husband.

‘Yep, got all the usual signs. Thought I’d better let you know so I can get registered with Kat.’

Now, there was something that did tend to wind Jane up. Kat’s attitude to her husband. Kat had tried to intervene one night at the pub when he’d been about to swing a fist at Jane. Something Flynn would’ve tried to prevent, too, if he’d been there. ‘Kat’s away at the moment so you’ll get to meet Ally.’ Of course, there were nine months to a pregnancy, and Kat was only away for one, but hopefully Ally could settle Jane into things so that she’d be happier with Kat this time round.

‘Is she nice?’ Jane’s eyes lit up.

More than. ‘You’ll get along great guns. Now, I’m surmising that we need to discuss your arthritis meds for the duration of your pregnancy.’

The light in those eyes faded. She accepted her painful condition without a complaint, but she knew how hard the next few months were going to be. ‘I’ve cut back already to what you’ve recommended before. There’s no way I’m risking hurting junior in there.’ Her hand did a circuit of her belly. ‘Can’t say I’m happy with the extra pain, but I want this wee one. Think I’ll make it the last, though. Get my bits chopped out afterwards.’

As he made a note to that effect in her computer file, Flynn tried not to smile. Her bits. He got to hear all sorts of names for vaginas and Fallopian tubes in this job. ‘How far along do you think you are?’

‘I’ve missed two periods. Should’ve come to see you sooner, I know, but that family of mine keeps me busy.’ Jane wasn’t mentioning the lack of money, but he knew about it. ‘Anyway, it’s not like I don’t know what to expect. They haven’t changed the way it’s done in the last three years, have they?’

‘Not that anyone’s told me.’

After writing out prescriptions, ordering blood tests, including an HCG for confirmation of the pregnancy, and taking Jane’s blood pressure, he took her along to meet Ally.

It wasn’t until he was returning to his room and he passed Faye, who rolled her eyes at him, that he realised he was walking with a bounce in his stride and a smile on his face. All due to a certain midwife.

What was it about her that had him sitting up and taking notice? It had happened instantly. Right from that moment when Sheba had knocked her down and he’d reached out a hand to haul the dog off, only to be sidetracked by the most startling pair of hazel eyes he’d ever seen.

Whatever it was, he’d better put a lid on the sizzle before anyone else in the clinic started noticing. That was the last thing he needed, and no doubt Ally felt the same.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_a6c17dec-b5c7-5001-9f1c-c21d7bf44566)

‘FLYNN,’ MEGAN CALLED from her office as he was shrugging into his jacket. ‘The path lab’s on line one.’

‘Put them through.’ Damn, he’d just seen Ally head out the front door for home. He’d intended talking to her before she left, maybe even walk with her as far as Kat’s flat, then backtrack to home. Which, given he lived on the opposite side of town, showed how fried his brain had become in the last twenty-four hours.

For an instant he resented being a GP. There were never any moments just for him. Like it had been any different working as an emergency specialist. Yeah, but he’d chosen that career pathway, not had it forced on him. So he’d give up trying to raise Adam properly, hand him over to spend even more hours with day carers? No, he wouldn’t. The disgruntled feeling disappeared in a flash, replaced with love. His little guy meant everything to him.

‘Flynn?’ Megan yelled. ‘Get that, will you?’

He kicked the door shut and grabbed the persistently ringing phone from his desk. ‘Flynn Reynolds. How can I help?’ Could you hurry up? I’m on a mission.

‘Doctor, this is Andrew from the lab. I’m calling about some biochemistry results on William Foster.’

William Foster, fifty-six and heading down the overweight path through too much alcohol and fatty food since his wife had died twelve months back. He’d complained of shoulder pain and general malaise so he’d ordered urgent tests to check what his heart might be up to. ‘I’m listening.’

‘His troponin’s raised. As are his glucose and cholesterol. But it’s the troponin I’m ringing about.’

He took down details of the abnormal results, even though Andrew would email them through within the next five minutes. Finding William’s phone number, he was about to dial but thought better of it. Instead, he phoned Marie on the run. ‘I’m going to be late.’