Worth the Risk(63)

By the time they’d cleaned Felicity up and settled her in bed to feed her new daughter, the midwife arrived with wet feet and frozen hands.

‘Gosh, it’s lovely and warm in here.’ She stood in front of the extra fire Hugh had thought to put in the room for the birth of the baby. ‘You look great!’

Felicity gave her a euphoric smile. ‘I am. It was incredible. Nothing like either of my previous deliveries. I enjoyed it. I really did.’

Ally laughed and cleared up the last of her mess. ‘Thank goodness! I wouldn’t have fancied using forceps or the ventouse at home!’ She carefully wrote down all the details of the delivery, handed them over to the midwife and promised to call on Felicity again the next day.

‘There’s no point at all in you struggling into hospital in this weather when you’re both so fit. If you’ve got any worries at all just give me a ring.’ As an afterthought she scribbled down her home number. ‘Call me at home if you need to.’

Felicity looked at her gratefully, her eyes misty. ‘I don’t know what to say, how to thank you…’

‘No need.’ Ally’s voice was gruff as she picked up her bag. ‘Well, we’ll leave you in peace now.’

She picked her way through the snow back to the Range Rover and shivered while Sean unlocked the door.

‘You were great.’ He slammed the door and turned the key in the ignition, his breath clouding the freezing air. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to do that without you.’

Ally glanced at him in surprise and then huddled deeper into her coat. ‘Of course you could. You’ve delivered babies before.’

He gave a grim smile, his hands holding the wheel steady as the vehicle lurched through the snow.

‘It’s not the technical bit that’s a problem, it’s all the emotional stuff.’

‘Like what?’

He stared straight ahead, his jaw tense. ‘I don’t know. One minute she’s panicking, then she’s screaming in agony, then she’s laughing. However she was reacting, you were one step ahead of her—I just couldn’t do that.’

‘And, I couldn’t put in a chest drain at an altitude of nine hundred metres in a howling blizzard,’ Ally said quietly. ‘We all have different skills.’

‘Maybe.’ He cleared his throat, his voice gruff. ‘You’re a very warm, compassionate person, Ally McGuire. Whatever you’re doing, you give your whole self. You don’t hold anything back, do you?’

She looked at his hard profile and felt a lump in her throat. ‘Not with people I trust. But I suppose I’ve been lucky. I’ve always had family who love me.’

For a moment she thought he was going to say something more, but his eyes were suddenly distant and he pulled into the drive without another word, leaving her with her own thoughts.

* * *

Geoff Thompson didn’t turn up for his next appointment and Ally made a call to the community alcohol team, but they were quite happy with his progress.

‘I think he’s probably depressed,’ she confided in Will one morning, and he nodded.

‘Very likely, in the circumstances. Does he seem depressed?’

‘Well, not at first, but ever since we finished the detox programme he’s been avoiding me.’ Ally frowned. ‘I’ve called at his home twice but he’s always out.’

Will rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Well, he’s been through a great deal so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s depressed.’

Ally made a note to call at his home again, trying to ignore the sudden wave of nausea that hit her.

Jack came in to see her later that morning, and she told him that his gastroscopy had shown a small ulcer, but nothing more sinister. ‘But you tested positive for H. pylori so I need to give you some drugs to clear it up.’

Jack raised an eyebrow. ‘And that should do the trick?’

Ally nodded. ‘Absolutely. You take three drugs together—an ulcer preparation and two different antibiotics—and that should eradicate the organism that causes the ulcer.’

She tapped keys on the computer and printed out a prescription, which she handed to him.

‘I hear you were called out yesterday?’

‘Yes.’ Jack took the prescription and tucked it in his pocket. ‘A woman with a sprained ankle halfway up Harrison Stickle. If I had a fiver for every female with a sprained ankle I’ve seen this year, I could stop doing the lottery.’

Ally laughed. ‘Any excuse to ogle.’

‘She was sixty, Ally,’ Jack said dryly, shrugging on his jacket, ‘although why a woman of her age wanted to walk in the fells in early December is a mystery to me. But there you are. It’s the likes of her that keep me fit.’