Page 19 of Heartbreak for the Irish Midwife

Alex dropped his gaze, adding a note to the form in front of him.

‘Right, I’ll be off then!’

‘Cheerio!’ said Dan, in unison with Alex’s ‘Goodbye!’

They waited until the sound of her footsteps had receded down the corridor, then exchanged a wry look. ‘That’s the fourth time today she’s “popped round” to tell me something,’ Dan confessed.

‘Really?’ Alex raised an eyebrow. ‘Four times!’

‘She’s new of course, like us,’ Dan commented neutrally. ‘Maybe that’s it.’

Alex knew his sceptical expression was showing. Dan was being extremely charitable about Midwife Gildea’s likely motivations. The truth was that she had been eyeing them both like they were options on a lunch menu.

‘She is new, that’s true.’ Here was an opportunity to widen out the topic. ‘There’s three new ones, right?’

‘Actually, six. There’s another group of three newly qualified midwives that started a few weeks ago.’

‘Oh! I thought it was only the newest three. Priscilla Gildea, Maisie Canavan, and Peggy Cassidy.’ Deliberately, he hid Maisie in the middle, being reluctant at this point to reveal his interest in her.

‘Peggy,’ Dan echoed, a peculiar tone in his voice. ‘She er – she trained in Dublin too.’

‘Oh! Did you know her?’

‘I did.’ He took a breath. ‘In fact she—’

‘Doctor!’ One of the delivery suite midwives came into the room, her face flushed. ‘I need one of yous in room 2, please.’

Dan was already up and heading for the door. ‘I’ll come. What’s happening?’

Then they were gone, Alex sensing that whatever it was Dan had been about to tell him was significant. Something about the other man’s manner . . .

Unfortunately, Alex had no sense of what it was. It could have been anything from ‘She was great’ to ‘She was terrible’ or ‘difficult’ or ‘useless’. Unlikely to be something negative, from his assessment of Peggy so far. She seemed competent, and calm, and sensible. He shrugged. Whatever it was, no doubt Dan would tell him eventually.

6

The clinic list on Wednesday morning was fairly long, and Maisie, Midwife Brooks, and Sister Hanna had been working flat out the entire morning. As the three doctors headed off for lunch after seeing their last patients, the three midwives met in the middle of the waiting area, straightening chairs and tidying magazines by unspoken agreement.

‘That was some morning!’ declared Midwife Brooks.

‘It was!’ Sister Hanna agreed. ‘Yous did well.’

Yous did well. Just three words, but they sent a surge of pride through Maisie. Oh, she was only halfway through her third week in the job, but so far she was doing all right, thank God.

‘I need you to work in A Ward this afternoon, Maisie,’ said Sister Hanna. ‘One of the junior midwives will be out on the district, so we’re helping out.’

‘Yes, Sister.’ A flutter of nerves went through Maisie. Just as she was getting used to the clinic, she now had to go to the in-patient ward, and refresh more things she’d learned in King’s College Hospital – a place that was now hundreds of miles away, and felt scarily distant in terms of the skill she’d learned there.

How far away it seemed already! Scared she was forgetting everything about her life in London, Maisie forced herself to remember the places where she had spent her time. The hospital. Peckham. The Brixton Astoria. Ruskin Park, where Gerald had first kissed her. How happy she’d been! And how that happiness had been paid for in tears when it had all ended. She bit back a sigh, frustrated with herself. No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts endlessly circled back to him.

As she made her way to the little office in A Ward, Maisie looked about with interest. She’d had the tour on her first day, but it was different now she was to actually work here for the afternoon. As Sister Campbell – the A Ward sister – gave a summary of each of the women currently in the ward, she listened intently. This was mostly a postnatal ward, although they also occasionally looked after antenatal women who were on bed rest.

‘Right. Can you check on Mrs Watson, please, Midwife Canavan?’ Sister Hanna said crisply.

‘Yes, Sister.’

Mrs Watson’s bed was on the left-hand side of the main bay, near the bottom. She was chatting away to the woman in the next bed, which was nice, as there was a risk both ladies might feel lonely in here, away from their husbands and families.

‘Hello, Mrs Watson, I’m Midwife Canavan.’ Mrs Watson’s baby had apparently spent a few days in the nursery, and had been back with his mother since yesterday. ‘How are you today?’