A Good Catch Part 20

'She's having a seizure,' said a female voice, who they recognised as the nurse who had just left them. She was using a calm, professional voice, which became more urgent as she issued sharp instructions to her colleague. 'Call theatre. Tell them we're on the way down.'

'Will she be OK? Will my baby be OK?' The man was beyond anguished.

'Mr Behenna, we will do everything we can to safely deliver your child. Now please ...' Mickey and Loveday heard the metal sides of a hospital bed clang. 'I must get your wife to theatre.'

'Can I come with her?'

'The best thing you can do is wait here and I'll bring news as soon as possible.'

They listened as the bed rattled from the ward and went down some unknown corridor.

They listened as the man tried to quieten his frightened sobs.

Mickey knew what he had to do. He stepped out of the cubicle and put his arms around his best friend.

Jesse started. 'Mickey! They've taken Greer to theatre. She was shaking and her eyes were rolling. I'm scared. They won't let me go down to be with her. I've got to wait here.' He looked at the empty bay that had just held Greer's bed. 'Will you wait with me?'

'Of course I will.'

'You haven't got to get home to Loveday?'

'No.'

'Did Mum tell you we were in the ambulance up here? Is that why you came?'

'No. I was here anyway.'

'What?'

'Loveday's had a little boy. We've called him Hal.'

Jesse looked demented. 'You have a son?' He clasped at Mickey's sleeve. 'Loveday has a son?'

Mickey nodded, and steered his bewildered friend to a chair. 'Let me get you a cup of tea.'

'Can I see them? The baby and Loveday?'

Loveday, behind the safety of her curtains, gripped her sleeping son a little tighter and held her breath, hoping fervently that Mickey would say no.

'Let's see them later,' she heard him say. 'When we know Greer is all OK. Then we can meet together. Babies, mums and all.'

Jesse was slumped onto his chair. 'Yes. Yes. Of course.'

'Right, let me get you that cup of tea.'

Greer's son, Freddie, was delivered at 9.38 that night, by Caesarean section. He weighed five pounds six ounces and, despite being two weeks early, was p.r.o.nounced healthy. Greer, on the other hand, knew nothing of the birth, or that she had a son. The severe pre-eclampsia had developed very rapidly that afternoon. That morning she had woken with a painful headache, which she couldn't budge. By teatime she had blurred vision with flas.h.i.+ng lights and her hands, feet and face were getting increasingly swollen. It was Elizabeth who had called the ambulance.

Jesse, pale and exhausted, was finally allowed to see her some time after midnight. She was asleep in a quiet side room. Drips and monitors surrounded her. 'How is she?' he asked the young nurse who was writing something on the clipboard that hooked onto the foot of the bed.

'She's stable but needs complete rest.'

'Can I sit with her?'

'Of course, but she needs to sleep. I'll be back in fifteen minutes to do her checks again.'

Jesse nodded his understanding and pulled up a small plastic chair that was nearest to the bed. He sat and took her hand. There was a cannula taped to the back of it with a tube leading to a stand with a bag of fluid on it. Like a metronome, it dripped its regular drip into her body.

'Greer?' he whispered. 'Can you hear me?' She gave no response. 'We have a little boy. Freddie has arrived! We did agree on Freddie, didn't we?' He wrinkled his eyebrows anxiously. 'If you want to change it when you wake up, that's no problem.' The quiet hiss of the oxygen tube under her nostrils was the only response. He carried on regardless, the sound of his voice in the silence rea.s.suring him, soothing his frayed nerves.

'I've been to see him. Handsome boy. Ten fingers and ten toes. He's in special care at the moment. They're keeping an eye on him till you're able to.' He felt the p.r.i.c.k of tears and bowed his head, resting it on her hand. 'Darlin', you'm gonna get better soon. The doctor says your liver, or did he say kidneys, I always get them mixed up; anyway, they might be affected, but you're in good hands. You've got to rest, take it easy.'

The nurse entered the room. 'I think you should go home now, Mr Behenna. We've given your wife a sedative that should keep her sleeping for the next few hours. Get some rest. Come back in the morning. Your wife is going to need you to be fit to take care of her and ...' She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

'Freddie,' he said.

'Freddie. What a lovely name. So yes, you go home and we'll see you in the morning. Any change and we'll call you.'

Mr Cunningham sat rea.s.suringly and handsomely at the desk in his consulting room. Greer's father was insistent that this should be a private appointment rather than NHS.

Greer and Jesse were shown in by the cool secretary, who looked like Miss Moneypenny and had clearly also been in love with her employer for years.

Mr Cunningham stood up and greeted the couple.

'Do take a seat.' He gestured to the comfortable upholstered chairs facing his desk.

'How are you, Greer?'

'A lot better, thank you.'

'And young Freddie? Not keeping you awake too much?'

'Oh, you know. He's not a great sleeper, but my mother is doing the night feeds and being back at my parents' house is nice.'

'All those home-cooked meals?' smiled Mr Cunningham. He turned to Jesse.

'And how's Dad doing you've had quite a lot to deal with, haven't you.' It was a statement, not a question.

Jesse took his eyes off the silver-framed photos of Mrs Cunningham and offspring and tried to shake the tiredness from his brain. G.o.d, he was exhausted. Freddie was noisy, angry and impossible. Greer was fragile, and distanced from him, now that she was back at her parents' house.

'Sorry ... what did you say?'

Mr Cunningham gave a benign professional smile. 'You've had a lot to deal with. Greer's illness. A new baby.'

'No, I'm fine. Just want to know how Greer is.'

'Ah, yes.' The consultant opened a leather folder on his desk and took out a more modest buff folder. Inside were several sheets of paper: Greer's medical notes. Mr Cunningham cleared his throat. 'Greer has had an episode of severe pre-eclampsia which developed into eclampsia. If we hadn't operated on her and delivered Freddie, you might have lost them both.'

The consultation took thirty minutes. Mr Cunningham explained that the condition was little understood, but that it needn't necessarily stop the majority of women from having normal pregnancies in the future. Mr Cunningham paused and arranged his features sombrely. 'Unfortunately, Greer falls into the minority group of women who I wouldn't recommend trying for another baby. It could be dangerous for her and the child. This is only my recommendation and you must do as you think best but, truthfully, I do believe you shouldn't contemplate adding to your family. I'm sorry.'

20.

Greer absorbed the news with a quiet acceptance. Jesse was devastated. But as neither of them was able to talk to each other with anything other than superficial stoicism, they didn't know how each of them truly felt.

When Freddie was almost six weeks old, Jesse made his regular nightly trip to his in-laws' house to see his wife and son.

Freddie was in the arms of his grandmother, drinking greedily from his bottle of formula.

Greer was taking a bath.

In the silence of the beige and cream sitting room, with its sateen sofas and Tiffany lamps, Jesse felt a stranger. Foreign. His presence neither understood nor recognised.

'How is Greer doing?' he asked Elizabeth. He wanted to ask his mother-in-law specifically when Greer could come home, but he felt awkward. He didn't want Elizabeth to accuse him of pus.h.i.+ng Greer before she was ready.

Freddie released the teat from his mouth and Elizabeth expertly lifted him upright and forward so that she could rub his back. Freddie obliged with a deep burp.

'Good boy,' said his grandmother. 'Who's a good boy for Nanny? Want some more? Still hungry?' She stroked the teat against Freddie's lips until he took it in his mouth and closed his eyes, sucking sleepily.

Jesse asked again. 'Is she feeling better?'

Elizabeth didn't look at him as she answered. 'She's still very weak.'

Jesse tried again. 'You've been wonderful. Looking after her and Freddie. I can't wait to have them home.'

'Yes, well, Greer will know when she's well enough.' Freddie was now asleep. His head lolling in the crook of his grandmother's elbow. A small stream of creamy dribble was escaping from his lips. 'Now then, young man. It's the Moses basket for you,' said Elizabeth, putting the bottle on the table at her side and preparing to stand up.

Jesse jumped up from his chair, hoping that he might be able to help. He hadn't had many chances to hold Freddie in the last six weeks. He had not yet been allowed to give him his bottle. 'Can I hold him?'

Elizabeth hesitated before saying, 'I think he needs to sleep. He likes it. It's better that we keep his little routine going.'

Greer came in wearing her old Snoopy dressing gown and with her hair wound into a towelling turban. 'Hi, Jesse. You're earlier than usual.' Her face lit up. 'Mum, you didn't tell me Jesse was here.'

'I didn't want to disturb you when you were having a nice bath.'

Greer went to Jesse and hugged him. 'Have you had a cuddle with Freddie?'

Jesse saw his chance. 'I was just asking your mum.'

'He's asleep,' said Elizabeth, still holding Freddie. 'I'm just about to put him down.'

'Mum! Jesse and Freddie haven't seen each other since yesterday. And Jesse didn't get a cuddle then because you'd put Freddie down. Hand him over.'

'It's important to have a routine,' Elizabeth protested, but couldn't stop Greer taking Freddie.

'I know, Mum, and you've done a wonderful job, but hand him over to his daddy.' Greer turned to her husband, who gave Elizabeth a triumphant smile. 'Now, Jesse, sit down in that armchair and get comfy.' Greer took Freddie from her mother's arms and pa.s.sed him into her husband's.

Elizabeth sniffed huffily as she left the room. 'I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.'

Jesse took him gently.

'h.e.l.lo, Fred. Daddy's going to bring you and Mummy home soon,' he said in a comforting soft voice.

'Let's take him to my room for a proper cuddle.'

In her room and surrounded by the paraphernalia of babyhood such as boxes of Pampers, sterilising kits and bottles, Jesse sat on the bed holding their son while Greer sat at his feet, resting her chin on his knee. 'Did you get the cot built?'

'All done.'

'And the little mobile up?'

'Yes.'

'And the changing table? Is there enough room? It's such a tiny little room.'

'It's perfect. Like an efficient galley. Everything in arm's reach.'

She sighed happily. 'I'm looking forward to coming home.'

'When do you think that'll be?'

'Another couple of weeks.'

'Another two weeks! Freddie's six weeks now.'

'I know. Doesn't time go fast?'

Jesse didn't think so. 'I want you home at the weekend.'

Greer stiffened. 'I don't think I'm ready.'

'I want you back home. In our bed. I miss you.'

'You know what the doctor said.'

'He said no more children. Not no more s.e.x.'