Midwives On-Call. Alison Roberts

was taking second place to her need to know, and she seemed to be taking it in.

      ‘So,’ she whispered. ‘So?’

      ‘So the good thing is,’ he said, still gently, ‘that many problems of spina bifida aren’t directly caused by the spina bifida itself. Doctors cleverer than me, like Heinz—did you know he’s top in his field in research?—have worked out that the exposure of the spinal cord to the normal fluid in your womb, the amniotic fluid, is what progressively destroys the exposed nerves during pregnancy. If we can operate now, really early, and cover the exposed cord, then we prevent much of the damage. Your baby’s much more likely to be able to live a normal, happy life.’

      ‘But not with me,’ Ruby whispered.

      That was another issue altogether. Adoption. This was a single mum, a teenager, facing a life apart from the baby she was carrying.

      ‘You haven’t decided definitely on adoption,’ Em murmured, and the girl shook her head.

      ‘I can’t think …’

      ‘And you don’t need to think.’ Em’s hold on her tightened. ‘There’s too much happening now for you to think past what you need to face right now. But, Ruby, regardless of what you decide to do when your baby’s born, regardless of whether you decide you can care for her yourself or if you want to give her to parents who need a baby to love, she’ll still be your daughter. You have the choice now to make a huge difference in your daughter’s life.’

      ‘You’re … sure she has to have this operation?’ Ruby whispered. ‘I mean … really sure?’

      ‘We’re sure,’ Oliver told her, suddenly immensely grateful for Em’s presence. Without Em he doubted whether he’d have been able to get past the fear. ‘But the operation’s not without risks.’ He had to say that. There was no way he could let this kid agree to surgery without warning her. ‘Ruby, there are risks to you and risks to your baby. I believe those risks are small but they’re still there.’

      ‘But … I will make a difference.’

      ‘Heinz tells me that because the spinal cord exposure is relatively high and very obvious on the ultrasound, then if we leave the operation undone, your daughter will probably spend her life in a wheelchair,’ he said bluntly. ‘And with the amount of exposure … there will be fluid build-up in the brain. She’ll need a shunt and there may even be brain damage.’

      ‘That’s why Dr Evans has arrived here so fast,’ Em went on smoothly. ‘We haven’t had a specialist in-utero surgeon on staff, but when we saw your ultrasound Dr Zigler knew we had to get the best obstetrician here as fast as we could. That’s who Dr Evans is. The best. So now it’s up to you, Ruby, love. Will you let us operate on your baby?’

      ‘Heinz and I can close the gap over the cord,’ Oliver told her. ‘There’s probably already a little damage done, but it’s so early that damage should be minimal. What we’ll do is put you to sleep, cut the smallest incision in your tummy as possible—you’ll be left with a scar but I’m very neat.’ He grinned at the girl, knowing a bit of pseudo modesty often worked, and he got a shaky smile in return. ‘Then we’ll gently turn your baby over where she’s lying—with luck we won’t have to take her out. Once her back is exposed Heinz will check everything, tweak things to where they should be, then we’ll close the gap over her spinal cord. We’ll settle her back down again and tuck her in, stitch you up and leave you both to get on with your pregnancy. You’ll need to stay in hospital for about a week, maybe a bit longer, until we’re sure we haven’t pressured bub into coming early, but then everything should proceed as normal.’

      ‘And she won’t have to be in a wheelchair?’

      ‘Ruby, we can’t make any promises.’ He caught her hand and held it. Em was still hugging her, and Oliver thought, not for the first time, Em was a wonderful midwife. She knew when to intervene and she knew when to shut up. She also exuded a quiet calm that was a tranquilliser all by itself.

      He’d met her ten years ago. He’d been a barely qualified doctor, she’d been a student nurse, but already the confidence she’d engendered in the patients he’d worked with had been impressive. He’d seen her with some terrified teenage mums.

      There was no nurse he’d rather have by his side and by the time they’d dated twice he’d known there was no woman he’d rather have with him for ever. Their attraction had been instant, their marriage inevitable.

      It was only babies … or lack of babies … that had driven them apart.

      The night their son had been stillborn had been the worst night of his life. He’d watched Em’s face contort with an anguish so deep it had seemed endless, and there had been nothing he could do to stop it. He’d been unable to help her. He’d been unable to reach her.

      But it was hardly the time to be thinking of that now. It was hardly the time to be thinking of it ever. After five years, they’d moved on.

      ‘I can’t make any promises,’ he repeated, hauling himself back to the here and now, to the needs of the teenage kid in front of him. ‘The procedure Heinz and I are trained to perform usually has an excellent outcome but there are exceptions. I won’t hide that from you, Ruby. There are risks. There’s a chance of infection, for you as well as your baby. We’ll take every care in the world …’

      ‘But no guarantees.’

      ‘No guarantees,’ he agreed. ‘So it’s up to you. This is your daughter, Ruby. It’s up to you to make the choice.’

      ‘I’m too young to have a daughter.’ It was a wail and Em’s arm tightened around her.

      ‘That’s where I come in,’ she said solidly, a blanket of comfort and reassurance. ‘You want advice, I’m full of advice. You want a hug, that’s what I’m here for, too.’

      ‘You can’t be here with me all the time.’

      ‘I can’t,’ Em agreed. ‘I have my own son and daughter to look after. But I’m here every day during the week, and if I’m needed, I can come in at other times. My mum lives with me so I can usually drop everything and come. I don’t do that for all my mums, but I’ll try for you.’

      ‘Why?’ Ruby demanded, suspicious.

      ‘Because you’re special,’ she said soundly. ‘Isn’t that right, Dr Evans? You’re one special woman, and you’re about to have one special daughter.’

      But Oliver was hardly listening. Somehow he managed to make a grunt of acquiescence but his mind felt like it was exploding.

       I have my own son and daughter to look after.

      Somehow … a part of his brain had hoped—assumed?—that she’d stayed … as Em. The Em he’d left five years ago.

      She hadn’t. She’d moved on. She was a different woman.

       I have my own son and daughter to look after …

      ‘What do you think, Ruby?’ Em was saying gently. ‘Do you want to go ahead with the operation? Do you want time to think about it?’

      ‘I don’t have a choice,’ Ruby whispered. ‘My baby … It’s the best thing …’

      It was. Oliver watched Ruby’s hand drop to cover the faint bulge of her tummy, the instinctive gesture of protection that was as old as time itself.

      And the gesture brought back the wedge that had been driven so deep within his marriage that it had finished it. Em had wanted to adopt, and he’d known he couldn’t love like parents were supposed to love. He was right, he thought bleakly. He’d always been right. What was between Ruby and her baby was what her baby needed. Ruby was this baby’s mum. Adoption was great if there was no choice, but how could an adoptive parent ever love a child as much as this?

      He knew he couldn’t and that knowledge had torn his marriage