‘Right, okay,’ Ross said, turning and disappearing at speed. She heard him crashing down the stairs, his voice urgently talking to Ruth below in the kitchen.
She was surprised when he came back almost at once. ‘The phones are working again—Ruth has rung Henry but he is out on another call. His nurse said she would give him the message, but I think I should drive you to the nearest hospital.’
The pain had her in its vicious grip again by then; she closed her eyes, breathing rhythmically.
When she could speak again she whispered, dark-eyed with pain, ‘No. No, I can’t. It hurts so much, Ross, and the pains are coming faster and closer together. I don’t think there is time to drive to hospital.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘BUT you can’t have the baby here!’ Ross’s voice was harsh, his face tense. ‘It wouldn’t be safe. You’ll need help, a midwife, a doctor...someone who knows what they’re doing. A first-time mother has to have her baby in hospital.’
Dylan rubbed her back, face defiant. ‘No, I’m not risking a long drive. The pains come too close together, I’d be scared of having the baby arrive before I got to hospital.’ She groaned, sweat breaking out on her forehead. ‘If only the doctor would get here!’
Ross sat down next to her and turned sideways on so that he could massage her back. Dylan felt his strong, warm, muscular hands stroking firmly, rhythmically, pressing into her tense muscles, and sighed, relaxing, closing her eyes.
‘That’s wonderful.’
He went on kneading her, murmuring close to her ear, his voice persuasive, ‘Dylan, listen, you have to be sensible. I’ll drive you very slowly and carefully, I promise. Let me take you to the nearest hospital. You’ll be risking the baby’s life if you don’t, not to mention your own. I couldn’t bear it if anything went wrong.’
‘Why should you care? The way you’ve been treating me the last few months!’ she muttered, but knew he might be right. Maybe it would be wiser to go to the hospital? If only she had a clearer idea what to expect!
But she stopped thinking as the pain came surging back. She had to relax, so that she could do her breathing exercises, but she had been taken off guard and her body was too tense, fighting the pain instead of going with it.
‘Lean on me,’ said Ross, putting an arm round her and gently stroking her taut abdomen the way he had her back.
She let herself slump against him, surrendering to his hands, and her breathing slowed, deepened. The pleasure of having Ross touching her with such tenderness helped. When the pain went she stayed very still, not wanting him to stop. It had been so long since they had had such intimate contact.
There was a tap on the door at that moment, and Ruth asked, ‘May I come in?’
‘Of course, please do. We could use your advice,’ Ross said, relief in his voice. ‘She seems to be in a lot of pain.’
Ruth came in, looking sharply at Dylan, eyes skimming her from head to toe. ‘Is it really bad, Dylan?’
She nodded, saving her breath.
Ruth said, ‘I just tried to ring for an ambulance but there’s no bed available in the local hospital—they said there was no point in bringing you in as they had nowhere to put you. They suggested trying other hospitals in the area but they said your doctor should do that, so until Henry gets here there’s nothing else to be done, I’m afraid.’
‘The pains are coming every few minutes; she must be well into labour,’ Ross said flatly. ‘Unless this doctor friend of yours arrives soon we may find ourselves delivering the baby.’
Looking aghast, Ruth said, ‘How soon do you think the baby will arrive, Dylan?’
‘I don’t know! I never had a baby before!’ Dylan heard the ring of panic in her own voice and tried to sound calmer. There must be a local midwife, surely!’
‘Of course, and I already tried her number, but she was out on another call, too. I left a message on her answer-machine.’
‘We must do something!’ Ross broke out fiercely.
Dylan stopped listening to them. The process gripping her body made everyone else around her unimportant for a minute or two.
By noon the white snow blew in swirls and drifts which blotted out the leaden sky. An arctic wind rattled the bare branches in the garden; it seemed colder today than it had been yesterday. Even Fred was happy to stay locked in the shed with a net of hay to eat, and Cleo slept, curled nose to tail, in front of the glowing range in between visits upstairs to investigate the comings and goings of her owner and the two visitors.
‘Stay out of here,’ Ruth told her the third time, firmly shooing her out.
Green eyes slitted, black tail lashing, Cleo peered past into the bedroom at the woman making yowling noises on the be
d.
‘She knows what’s going on,’ Ruth said drily. ‘She’s kittened twice.’