Chapter 2
The wind had got up in the ten minutes or so since Ottilie’s call.
Now that Zoe had a moment to reflect as she drove down the hill to the village, she realised Ottilie’s tone wasn’t quite as untroubled as she’d tried to pretend.
At least it was still daylight. She often had to, of course, but Zoe had never been a fan of driving down from Hilltop Farm in the dark.
The new year had not long got underway, so the days were still short, and it wouldn’t be long until the evening drew in.
Her mind raced. She was ready for action, but she wondered what to expect when she arrived at Wordsworth Cottage, Ottilie’s home.
There had been no plan for a home birth, for one.
Ottilie had been sensible enough to realise that as an older mother expecting her first child, a well-equipped and well-staffed hospital was the best place to have her baby.
All along, Ottilie had coped well with pregnancy and had followed Zoe’s advice to the letter.
They were both medically trained, and so she’d known as well as Zoe what was good for her.
The fact that she was home, asking Zoe to come, meant things hadn’t quite gone to plan, though Zoe hoped it would simply be a timing issue and nothing more problematic. She’d find out soon enough.
At picture-perfect Wordsworth Cottage, Ottilie’s partner Heath was pale as he opened a front door shaded by trees and climbing shrubs cut back for winter.
‘I’ve called for the ambulance. I said hours ago we should have gone to the hospital, but you know Ottilie…
she didn’t want a fuss, and she refused to bother anyone until she was sure. Well, she’s bloody sure now!’
‘Where is she?’
‘In the bedroom. She went to have a lie-down.’
Zoe stepped in, only to be immediately accosted by Heath’s grandma, Flo. Holding back a groan of frustration, she nodded curtly. ‘All right, Flo.’
‘I came to see if I could help,’ Flo said. For once, her usual shortness was absent.
Flo was known in the village for being temperamental.
That was the politest description Zoe had heard, but most thought she could be an absolute pain.
However, Zoe was also aware that, despite her brusqueness, Flo was very fond of Ottilie and had come to think of her as family, even before Ottilie and Heath’s relationship had become serious.
Zoe softened as she recognised the old lady’s concern.
‘I only popped round to see if Heath could get a lid off some jam for me,’ Flo continued. ‘And I find all this. Well, I was hardly going to go home and put the kettle on, was I? Anyway, I couldn’t have my toast without the jam, so that was that.’
In any other situation, Zoe might have seen the funny side to Flo’s statement, but she simply gave a tight smile.
‘Of course not. Perhaps you could make Ottilie a cup of tea?’ she added, not because she thought Ottilie needed tea at this precise moment, but because it would give a visibly worried Flo something to focus on.
It would also keep her out of the way while Zoe did her initial assessments.
‘Tea…’ Flo hesitated and then gave an emphatic nod. ‘Tea… good idea! Shall I make a pot? We’ll all have one, won’t we?’
‘If you’re making a pot, that would be lovely.’
Zoe headed for the stairs, hardly noticing as Flo bustled away to the kitchen.
‘Nicely handled,’ Heath said in a low voice as he followed her up. ‘Better than I could do.’
‘I’ve had plenty of practice,’ Zoe replied. ‘She just wants to be useful – I’d feel the same. What did the call handler tell you about the paramedics? How long until they get here?’
‘She didn’t say, just that it would be as soon as they could.
She didn’t sound overly worried.’ He ran a hand through hair that was already standing up as if he’d been doing it like a nervous tic for the past hour at least. ‘I don’t think I should have called them, should I?
Ottilie said not to; she said to put her in the car, but I wouldn’t have it.
I mean, she looked so rough, and I was like there’s no way she can tolerate a car journey to the maternity unit, and I don’t mind admitting I’m scared half to death right now. Is it always this hard?’
Zoe shot a wry look his way. ‘It’s usually a bit harder for mum than dad at this point.’
‘God, yes, no, I mean I just don’t know what to do for her, and I’m scared to death of messing up when she needs me most. Even the call handler sounded as if she thought I was making a mountain out of a molehill, but if I hadn’t called them and something goes wrong…’
‘She wouldn’t think that. It’s her job to listen and work it out, and if you have concerns, then she might sound unbothered, but that doesn’t mean they’re not taking it seriously.’
‘But do you think Ottilie will be all right? Is it normal for her to feel so ill?’
‘Hard to say until I see her.’ Zoe gave her most reassuring smile. ‘Whatever’s going on, I’m here, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.’
‘Thank God for that. I’ve never been so glad to have you as a neighbour.’
As soon as Zoe stepped into the bedroom, her instincts were on high alert.
Ottilie’s breathing was shallow, and her skin was almost grey as she leaned on the back of a chair.
Less than twenty minutes ago, she’d sounded well enough on the phone, but something had changed, and it wasn’t good.
She barely looked up as Zoe came in and spoke.
‘How are you doing?’
‘I don’t feel so good, to be honest. Came on suddenly. Not sure if I ought to be worried…’
Her speech was stalled and laboured, as if it had taken a great deal of effort to string anything coherent together.
‘No,’ Zoe lied. ‘I don’t think you should be worried. Nobody finds labour a picnic.’
‘Oh, that’s all right then. For a minute there, I wondered if it was all going wrong.’
Zoe opened her bag and got out a blood pressure monitor. ‘Tell me what’s going on. In what way don’t you feel good?’
‘Don’t know… dizzy… a bit weak, kind of sick… hard to say.’
‘What about your contractions?’
‘I’ve lost track… sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Zoe frowned as she read the blood pressure monitor. ‘It’s not that weird to be a bit dizzy and sick during labour. I’m not altogether happy about your blood pressure though.’
‘I thought you might say that. Pre-eclampsia?’
‘Hmm, this is the trouble dealing with someone who knows a little medicine…’
‘Oi!’ Ottilie said weakly. ‘A little? What are you trying to say?’
‘It’s not that high.’
‘Yet.’
‘Don’t will it to get worse!’ Zoe said, trying to keep things light though she was gripped by an urgency she recognised well.
She’d attended her share of births that hadn’t gone to plan, and she knew how to deal with them, but having one of her best friends in that situation was hardly her idea of fun. ‘I need you to lie down for a minute.’
‘Deflection…’ Ottilie gave a short nod. ‘I see. God, it hurts…’
‘A contraction?’
‘Yes… no… I can’t tell what’s contractions and what’s just general pain.’
‘Come on…’ Zoe led her to the bed and helped her onto it. ‘Sorry…’ she continued, ‘this isn’t going to be big on dignity, but I need to examine you.’
‘Examine what you like. At this point, I don’t even know what dignity means.’
Zoe sucked in a breath as she checked Ottilie’s progress. ‘OK…’ she said slowly. ‘You’re further on than I would have liked.’
‘You say it like it’s a bad thing.’
‘It’s not, it’s just…’ There was no point in lying to Ottilie, who knew enough to see through it. ‘I’d have liked the cavalry to have been here for the big event.’
‘You don’t think they will be?’
‘Hard to say, but… well, let’s just hope the roads are clear and one of them was a Formula One driver in a previous life. I could call Emilia or Simon…’
‘Not Simon. I’d hate to go back to work knowing he’s seen more of me than anyone ought to. And Emilia…’ Ottilie grimaced.
‘What?’
‘Nothing…’ Ottilie shook her head. ‘Feeling sick again. It’s fine. Emilia wasn’t exactly hands on when it came to her own sister giving birth. I’m sure she’d come, but would there be any point?’ She shook her head. ‘I’d rather just you.’
‘OK,’ Zoe said briskly. ‘If that’s how you want it, then I suppose we’re going to have to see what we can do between us.’
Ottilie blew out a desperate breath. But before she could answer, they were both distracted by the sight of Flo, chased by Heath, shuffling in with two cups of tea on a tray.
‘Gran!’ Heath chided. ‘I told you not to—’
‘Zoe told me to make tea!’ Flo interrupted.
‘I did,’ Zoe said, sending Heath a brief look to make him understand. ‘Thanks, Flo. I don’t suppose you could be on lookout at the front door? When the ambulance crew arrive, I could do with them coming straight up.’
‘You think things are that bad?’ Heath paled, and for a moment Zoe wondered if he was in greater danger of passing out than Ottilie was.
‘No, but they’ll have drugs that I don’t carry, and I think it might be a good idea to have them to hand.’
‘You don’t have everything?’ Heath asked, and though it didn’t seem possible, he paled further still.
‘I have what I’m allowed to carry,’ Zoe said. ‘It’ll be enough if it comes to the crunch, but I’d prefer to make it as easy for Ottilie as I can.’
‘Right…’ Heath looked hopelessly at every face in the room. ‘Do you want me to stay?’ he asked Ottilie.
She nodded and held out her hand. ‘Please,’ she choked.
‘Oh God!’ Heath flew to her side. ‘Don’t cry… I’m so sorry!’
‘For what?’ Ottilie sniffed hard.
‘For making you go through this!’
‘Well,’ Zoe said wryly, ‘it’s nice to see a man take ownership of his part in events for a change!’
Ottilie gave her a weak smile as Heath smoothed damp hair from her forehead and bent to kiss it. ‘Isn’t it? I suppose that means I have one of the good ones.’
‘I think it does.’ Zoe turned back to Flo, who was watching the drama unfold so avidly, Zoe wondered whether she ought to offer her a seat and some popcorn. ‘I can leave watching the front door to you then?’