He stood up, pulling his chair round the table so that they were closer together. Was he going to suggest something they could do together to realise their dreams? She could smell the scent of his aftershave, his skin, his body so that she could almost feel the testosterone swirling through his powerful manly frame. She was sensually moved by being so close to him. It wasn’t possible to discuss something of this nature without being emotionally involved, was it? Should she stop him before he asked her an impossibly intimate question?
He cleared his throat. ‘Maybe there’s a solution to our problem. We both want the same thing—a baby. Neither of us wants a relationship. We get on well as good friends with no strings attached. It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that we could...’
She held her breath, her emotions churning as she waited for him to explain.
‘We must be totally professional about the situation.’
He paused, as if searching for words.
She sat very still, waiting for him to continue. What on earth did he have in mind?
He reached for the glass of brandy that Giles had placed beside his coffee cup before he’d left them alone earlier.
Chantal had studiously ignored hers at first but now she also raised her glass to her lips.
‘How would you feel about investigating the possibility of having donor insemination? We would use my sperm to make you pregnant. There are some excellent clinics we could choose from where the procedure could take place.’
She told herself she was relieved that he’d reverted to his medical voice, making it quite clear there was no emotion to be involved in this situation. So why did part of her wish that he wasn’t being quite so professional about his suggestion?
‘If you did become pregnant I would help you through the pregnancy, giving you support as I did when you sprained your ankle.’
‘Michel, pregnancy and caring for a baby is a lot harder than having a sprained ankle!’ she told him sharply. ‘It’s a lifetime’s commitment to another human being. We’d have to draw up an agreement about the parenting of our baby, making sure the child was our priority in a completely unselfish way. There would be so many obstacles if we were intent on getting it right, I’m not sure it would work.’
She could see the hope in his eyes disappearing. ‘Even though I must admit it’s very tempting.’
Even as she said that she told herself she had to be very careful of this man. She mustn’t trust any man in a situation where she might find herself depending on him. She must keep her independence at all costs.
‘So, what do you think?’
She squared her shoulders. ‘You know, in spite of all the problems I can foresee, I do so want to have a baby!’
‘That makes two of us!’
He smiled directly into her eyes, that sexy smile that she knew would be one of the obstacles she’d have to deal with. Could she have the baby she longed for without giving in to her natural feelings towards the father of her child?
‘Think about it, Chantal. Take your time, no pressure. We’ve got to agree between us on the parenting involved and so forth. Then we’ve got to find a discreet clinic where we can be treated and—’
‘So many problems to cope with. It’s all a bit overwhelming.’ The doubts were creeping in already.
‘That’s why we’ll both take our time.’ He stood up and held out his hand to raise her to her feet. ‘Let me know if you want to continue with the idea and we’ll have another meeting.’
The gentle breeze had turned cold as it blew in from the sea. She shivered.
He pulled off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. ‘You’re getting cold. We should go. Just don’t dismiss my plan completely. It’s a pragmatic solution to the problem shared between two good friends. Don’t write if off simply because it’s not the conventional way of having a baby. Give it some thought.’
As they walked back across the beach he took hold of her hand, telling her to beware of the killer stones that lay beneath the surface of the sand, waiting to pounce onher feet as they had last time they had been here together.
She laughed. That was one of the things she liked about Michel. In spite of the strictly professional image he tried to portray with his staff he was a fun person to spend time with in an off-duty situation. Tonight she’d seen glimpses of the joyous man that he must once have been.
Listening to her laugh, Michel realised he loved the sound of her laughter. He loved lots of things about her. If they did go through with his plan to have a baby together he’d have to be so careful he didn’t find himself falling in love with her. Because falling in love was wonderful but the bitter sensation of loss he would feel if or when the love was taken away from him was too awful to contemplate twice in one lifetime.
CHAPTER FOUR
C
HANTAL
LOOKED
AROUND
at the patients waiting to be seen in Emergency. The midday sun was streaming through the windows in the waiting room. Summer was well and truly here. Close by on the beach families were enjoying themselves but here in the treatment area the patients were concerned with their pain and anxiety or that of the relative or friend they were accompanying.
She held back the curtain of the cubicle where she’d just treated a patient suffering from sunburn. It could have been worse but she’d advised the mother to keep the child indoors for a few days and then to cover him with hat and loose cotton garments if it was necessary to take him outside.
Applications of non-scented talcum powder would take care of the tiny spots on the chest and underarms which she’d diagnosed as prickly heat. The mother was very young and inexperienced so had hung on every word that Chantal had spoken. She’d also been shown how to rub in the cream she’d been given to soothe the skin where it was particularly painful. The main thing was to avoid direct sunlight and seek shade wherever possible.
Chantal sensed that all eyes were on her now, everybody hoping it was their turn to be seen next. She knew which patient had been waiting for the longest time but her eyes were once again drawn to a young girl seated near the entrance. She must have come in during the time Chantal had been treating the child suffering from sunburn. She looked terribly uncomfortable as she perched on the edge of her seat, pulling a large raincoat around herself. A raincoat, on a day like this?
Chantal walked purposefully across to investigate. ‘Is anybody with you, dear?’ She kept her tone gentle and encouraging.
The girl pulled the raincoat around her defensively and looked down at the floor to avoid eye contact. How could she explain why she was there when she’d been telling herself she couldn’t possibly be pregnant?
For weeks she’d suspected she might be but she’d tried not to think about it. You couldn’t get pregnant on the first time, could you? Her fattening tummy and enlarged breasts had convinced her of the awful truth. She’d covered it up for as long as she could but now she knew she needed help. But having got herself to the hospital, she was really scared of what this doctor would say to her.
‘Nobody’s with me,’ she muttered, half to herself.
Chantal made an instant diagnosis that needed to be checked out as soon as possible. This situation couldn’t wait. The girl was older than she seemed at first from across the room. Old enough. And a large man’s raincoat on a sunny day was a real giveaway.
She took the girl’s hand. ‘I’d like to help you. Would you like to come along with me?’
She held out her hand. Her patient ignored her hand but began to cry as she made two attempts to stand up. Chantal signalled one of the porters to bring a wheelchair over. They made it into the cubicle before her diagnosis was well and truly confirmed. As the porter lifted the girl onto the treatment couch her waters broke.
Chantal leaned over her patient to remove the sodden raincoat so she could examine her, all the time talking to her soothingly to assure her that she was in good hands. Everyone wanted to help her.
‘Would you like to tell me your name?’
‘Maria,’ was the whispered reply, before the girl’s cries became louder. ‘No, oh, no, Doctor, Doctor...’
‘Don’t go,’ Chantal told the porter. ‘I need you to take us to Obstetrics. Get a trolley, please.’
Seconds later she’d informed Obstetrics she was on her way with a young patient who was in labour.
Maria was clinging to her hand as they made their way through Emergency towards the corridor that led to Obstetrics. She was aware that Michel had spotted her moving out of their department and was striding across to check what was happening. One of the waiting patients had complained to him that he should have been seen next but the lady doctor was taking care of a young girl who’d just arrived.
‘I decided this patient needed to jump the queue,’ she told him breathlessly, intent on keeping up with the porter and her patient, who was now howling with pain and clinging to Chantal so that she was now bent over the trolley. The porter was holding the door open for her.
She turned her head and paused for a moment to continue her explanation to Michel. ‘If you remember when we delivered a baby a few weeks ago in a cubicle it certainly wasn’t an ideal situation. Fortunately our baby was OK but...’
‘Our baby was more than OK, Chantal, but I take your point. If there’s time to get to Obstetrics that will ensure an easier delivery. You certainly seem to have this situation sorted. Keep me informed when you get to Obstetrics.’
As Chantal moved along quickly with her patient she felt disturbed by the way Michel had said ‘our baby’. She knew she had to make that life-changing decision soon about whether she and Michel should have their own baby and stop shelving the issue. She brought her whole attention to her patient once more, but at the back of her mind his deep masculine voice was still with her.
‘Our baby.’
As Michel went back into Emergency to calm the impatient man he couldn’t help thinking that even though Chantal seemed to attract obstetrics patients she still hadn’t mentioned the conversation they’d had some time ago on the subject. It had taken all his courage to put the idea to her. After all, it wasn’t every day that two colleagues went out for supper and ended up discussing the possibility of having a baby together.
He was relieved, as he glanced around Emergency, to see that one of his colleagues had taken the complaining man into a cubicle and the department was relatively quiet again. He could even hear the constant whirring of the air conditioning.
‘Dr Devine, could you help me?’ one of his nurses called out.
‘Of course. I’m on my way.’
He shelved the problem of Chantal’s silence on the subject nearest his heart but not before he’d decided to broach the subject with her as soon as possible. The longer he waited for an answer the harder it would become. Something was nagging him that she’d decided to say no to his unconventional plan, otherwise she would have got back to him in the intervening weeks wouldn’t she?
He helped the nurse with her stitching of a wound. She could have done it by herself but seemed to prefer to have him there to supervise the procedure.
The hefty builder lying on the trolley didn’t make a sound as the young nurse, her tongue firmly clamped between her teeth, slowly stitched up his wound. The patient looked up at the nurse as she breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Didn’t feel a thing, Nurse. Tell you what, I bet you were good at embroidery when you were at school last year, weren’t you?
‘I’m older than you think,’ the young nurse said defensively, before glancing up at her boss to see what he’d thought of her prowess.
‘Well done!’
She’d only needed a bit of encouragement. His phone was beeping. He went outside the cubicle.
‘Michel, do you mind if I stay with Maria in Obstetrics during the delivery? She’s only sixteen and there’s nobody with her. The cervix is well dilated so I shouldn’t be long.’
‘Take as long as you like, Chantal. I’ll cover for you and send for extra help.’
He was confident that a quick call to the staffing agency would solve the problem. At this time of year newly qualified doctors had registered with the medical agency he found was the most efficient and were anxious to work in his prestigious Emergency department. He dialled the number.
As he was pressing numbers and waiting to speak to a human voice he reflected that one thing he’d noticed about Chantal was that she bonded with all her patients easily and they loved her for it. She took an interest in each and every one of them. She’d make an excellent mother.
He was still waiting for the agency to get back to him, so he called in his next patient at the same moment he decided to deal with the problem of Chantal this evening when they were both off duty. He couldn’t do anything about it while she was fully occupied in the delivery of another baby.
* * *
Genevieve, the obstetrics sister, was relieved that Chantal was going to remain with their young patient. She’d been brilliant at calming down the young girl. Sixteen years old and she’d made her own way to the hospital while in the first stage of labour. As naïve a maternity patient as Genevieve had ever met. Nobody had explained the birds and bees to that one!
Chantal leaned over her patient as she showed her how to breathe in the gas and air that helped to take away some of the pain when the contractions came. The poor child...she had to stop thinking about her as a child. Maria had told her she was sixteen. Theoretically adult. Well, adult enough to have conceived a child,though she seemed totally bewildered by what was happening to her now.
From the little information Maria had given her she’d gathered that her mother had died in a road accident when she was small and her father had taken care of her by himself since then but he was often away on business.
Papa worked as a salesman and was in Belgium at the moment. He had a mobile phone but he didn’t like Maria phoning him when he was working. Anyway, she’d forgotten the number and she didn’t have a mobile herself. Too expensive, her father had told her. He always phoned her on the landline to say when he was coming home. Another contraction was beginning and Maria was concentrating on the breathing Chantal had taught her.
The young girl relaxed her grip on Chantal’s hand as the contraction passed.
‘You’re doing really well, Maria. Is there a relative other than your father that I can call?’
Maria shook her head. ‘I’m alone in the house when Dad goes away on business. That’s why I came here today. I’d only admitted to myself a few days ago that I was pregnant. I thought I’d better get help so— Ooh, that awful pain’s coming again, Chantal, help me.’
‘Breathe into the mask, Maria.’ She checked with Genevieve, who told her the cervix was almost fully dilated so that their patient could push on the next contraction.
It was a relief when she could tell her patient it was time to bear down. She could push now.
She reached for a dressing sheet and gently mopped Maria’s face before the next contraction.
There was a moment of anxiety as she had to tell Maria to stop pushing. Sister was sorting out the cord, which was around the baby’s neck.
‘Good girl,’ Chantal told her patient. ‘Yes, one more breath for me, now another. OK, another push and...’
The whole team seemed to exhale a sigh of relief as the baby flopped out into Genevieve’s hands. Almost immediately came the wailing cry they all wanted to hear.
As Chantal handed the baby wrapped in a dressing towel into Maria’s arms her young patient’s eyes were wide with amazement.
‘Dr Chantal, I’d put on a bit of weight but I didn’t know I was so near to having my baby. I’d tried not to think about it and I daren’t tell Papa. Oh, look, it’s such a miracle, isn’t it? Growing inside me, my baby. I love it. And it’s all mine isn’t it? Is it a boy or a girl?’
She glanced up at Chantal, who was overwhelmed by Maria’s childlike reaction. ‘You’ve got a little girl, Maria. A beautiful little girl.’
‘A girl, I’ve got a girl! A baby girl!’
Chantal became aware that someone else had joined the team in theatre. She could hear a muted male voice in the background somewhere.
He moved to the foot of the bed. ‘I was just checking how things are going up here, Chantal. The staffing agency hasn’t replaced you yet but I see you’ve got your hands full at the moment.’
She smiled across at him. ‘This really was a miracle.’
‘So I see.’
As their eyes met over the scene she knew she had to go through with their mad plan. She’d been hovering and dithering since that fateful evening at the beach café. And also, in this moment of enlightenment she knew that Michel would be a good, caring man to have a baby with. This rush of sentiment was gratifying but worrying if they were to stick to the original plan Michel had outlined.
‘She’s a lovely baby,’ he said, his voice husky with emotion as he watched Chantal taking the baby from the young mother to start the postnatal checks.
He stayed on for a short time, watching her checking the baby’s airway and nasal passages. Now she was gently weighing the precious child watched by the young mother who was totally in awe of her baby and the helpful doctor who’d made it all go so well when she’d been in despair. Chantal seemed totally engrossed in her tasks.
He slipped away unnoticed, even more anxious to find out if she’d given some thought to his plan.
* * *
An hour later Chantal had settled the new mother and baby in the postnatal ward, promising to return to see her before she went off duty. She spent a few minutes with Veronique, the mature, sympathetic lady in charge of patient home care, explaining that she was worried about Maria, the young girl in Obstetrics, who’d given birth that morning. She outlined as much as she knew about her patient’s difficult background while insisting that further details were required as soon as possible.
Veronique took down the details and promised to go and see Maria that afternoon.
‘And please try to get in contact with her father,’ Chantal said firmly.
‘Don’t worry, Dr Winstone. I’ll treat Maria’s case as a priority.’
Feeling a little more reassured that wheels would turn while she got on with her work in Emergency, Chantal hurried along to report to Michel that she was back. She found him in a cubicle reviving a teenager who’d swum too far out to sea. The lifeguards had brought him into hospital, having spent the few minutes in the ambulance working on him. The seemingly lifeless young man was on his side as one of the lifeguards was working in synchronisation with Michel. Between them they’d just achieved the first signs of life.
Chantal waited as she heard a vague groaning sound from the patient’s throat, then more water coming out of his mouth, a flickering of the eyelashes, a valiant attempt to speak followed by a movement of the chest. She watched as Michel continued to work on his patient. She didn’t want to disturb him while he and the lifeguards were engrossed in reviving their patient.