Scarlett - Cathy Cassidy [52]
‘I need to push,’ she says, and the midwife does a quick check and tells her to go with it. The contractions are stronger still now, and Clare pushes down with each one, her face scrunched up with the effort.
‘You’re doing great,’ the midwife tells Clare. ‘I can see the baby’s head. One more push
She goes to the door and calls for the doctor. He slips into the room soundlessly, moving about quietly, working with the midwife. In the brief rests between contractions, Clare seems to drift.
‘Scarlett?’ she murmurs. ‘Are you there?’
‘I’m here,’ I tell her.
Then her face crumples and darkens, and she’s pushing again. ‘Ynnnuughhh…’ she groans.
‘Almost,’ the midwife says encouragingly. ‘One more, one more…’
Clare groans and pants again and suddenly the midwife is cradling a tiny, purple-pink baby, sticky with blood and greasy white stuff. The doctor bends over the baby, blocking my view.
‘Buzz for paediatrics,’ he says quietly, and the youngest nurse bustles out, blank-faced. Then there’s a tiny, gasping cry like a cat yowling, and Clare’s eyes fill with tears.
‘You have a baby daughter,’ the doctor says, and the baby is wrapped in a soft white blanket and laid on Clare’s tummy for a moment. She’s tiny, her face crumpled up as though she’s angry at the world.
‘Hey, hey,’ I whisper. I touch her tiny clenched fist with one finger. She grabs on to it, and opens her milky-blue eyes wide at me. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Suddenly it’s hard to focus. My eyes mist, and fat, salty tears roll slowly down my cheeks. I’ve never felt so happy before, so full of love, so much a part of things.
Then everything changes. Sylvie is behind me, pulling me back from the bedside. The young nurse is back, a woman doctor in tow.
‘Let’s get this young lady checked over for you,’ the new doctor says smoothly, lifting the baby from Clare’s arms, ‘She’s come along a little sooner than expected, so we’d like to keep an eye on her, make sure she’s breathing properly.’
‘Breathing?’ Clare asks, alarmed.
‘Just a few tests,’ the doctor says gently. She tucks my brand-new sister inside a crib trolley and wheels her away, out of the hospital delivery room and down the corridor to special care.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask Sylvie. ‘Where are they taking her?’
Sylvie slips an arm round me and leads me to the door. ‘She’s five weeks early,’ she reminds me. ‘She’ll need some extra help for a while. It’ll be OK, Scarlett, wait and see – your sister’s going to be fine.’
I look over my shoulder and see Clare, leaning back against the pillows at last, crying softly. It just about breaks my heart.
Ed and Sylvie promise they’ll stay with me until Dad and Holly arrive.
‘When did you last eat?’ Ed wants to know, and when I think about it I realize I’ve had nothing since breakfast. Sylvie flings an arm round me and the three of us head off to find the hospital canteen.
‘I could murder some fried chicken and whipped potatoes,’ Ed says. ‘And some real coffee, not that stuff from the machine.’
‘I don’t care what it is,’ Sylvie laughs, ‘as long as it’s good. Delivering babies is hard work, huh, Scarlett?’
‘Mmm,’ I say. ‘Look, d’you mind if I see you in there? I need to find a phone box.’
‘Use my cellphone,’ Ed says.
‘OK. Thanks, Ed. I’ll see you both in a minute.’
They walk off down the corridor, following the signs to the canteen, and I sink down into a blue vinyl chair in another waiting area, outside a different ward. I punch the numbers in, press call and wait.
‘Hello?’ Alima’s clipped voice responds. ‘This is Sara Murray’s secretary. What can I do for you?’
‘I need to speak to my mum,’ I say. ‘It’s urgent.’
‘Scarlett?’ Alima squeaks. ‘Great to hear from you! Putting you right through…’
I blink. Alima has never put me right through to Mum before, not in living memory.