A Marriage Meant To Be. Josie Metcalfe
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Right at the other end of the corridor she caught sight of a bustle as several people in theatre scrubs were rushing towards the door with the sign for the delivery room hanging above it.
‘Jess’s baby?’ she murmured aloud, and wondered if there was any way she could find out without asking the staff to break patient confidentiality. If the baby had already arrived, she might have missed her chance to meet the woman she hoped would have a suitable place for Steph. If Jess was still in labour, she might still be able to speak to her.
‘Can I help you?’ said the young midwife, who emerged from the room just the other side of the doors and pushed one of them open to speak to her. ‘It’s husbands only at the moment. General visiting hours don’t start until seven, after the evening meal is over.’
‘It was one of your visitors I was hoping to catch,’ Callie said with a smile. ‘I’m looking for Marian Keeley. She came in with Jess…’
‘Ah, you’re one of Marian’s new volunteers, are you?’ she said with a sudden welcoming smile. ‘Come in and have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting for her. She shouldn’t be long now. Jess is already pushing and…’
At the far end of the corridor there was the sound of a faint wail and her smile grew even wider.
‘Oh, I do love that sound!’ she exclaimed as she beckoned Callie into the room behind her. ‘I’ve delivered dozens already, but it still gives me a thrill. I’m Jenny, by the way. How do you take your coffee? Milk and sugar? I’ll make one for Marian as soon as she’s settled Jess onto the ward.’
‘I’m Callie,’ she offered distractedly, her innate honesty urging her to confess that she wasn’t one of Marian’s volunteers, but what could she say? That she’d never met the woman? That might not be true if she was the same Marian Keeley she’d met nearly two years ago. ‘Milk with just the tiniest bit of sugar would be perfect,’ she said in the end, deciding that explanations could wait until she came face to face with the refuge’s owner.
‘Surely you’re not watching your weight. You certainly don’t need to,’ chatted the young woman as she spooned instant coffee into two mugs and waited for the kettle to boil.
‘Trying to cut down on my coffee intake by making it less palatable,’ Callie admitted wryly. ‘At one time I was drinking it black and nearly thick enough to stand a spoon up.’ It had been one way of getting through the brutal regime that doctors put themselves through to qualify and she’d virtually become addicted to the stuff. Then she’d heard that it could be a factor for couples experiencing difficulty in conceiving and was definitely frowned on for pregnant mums and had completely cut it out of her diet.
Even though it had been nearly five months since she’d lost her precious baby she hadn’t returned to her former coffee intake, feeling as if it would be some sort of admission that she’d given up all hopes of motherhood.
‘How do you stand on the subject of biscuits—chocolate biscuits, to be precise?’ Jenny asked as she held up a rather posh tin. ‘A gift from some very happy parents.’
‘Biscuits are definitely one of the major food groups and chocolate is essential for the existence of civilisation,’ Callie declared solemnly, then grinned as she beckoned the tin closer.
‘Is this a private party or is there room for one more?’ said a voice at the door. ‘I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’
‘Marian!’ Jenny said as she leapt to her feet, but Callie hadn’t needed the unintentional introduction. The woman in the doorway was someone she’d never forgotten even though she no longer resembled the grief-ridden fury she’d last encountered.
She saw the moment that the bereaved woman recognised her and braced herself for another tirade.
‘Dr Lowell!’ she gasped and stared at her open-mouthed for several startled seconds before hurrying into the room. To Callie’s utter amazement the woman bent to throw her arms around her for a fervent hug. ‘Oh, Dr Lowell, I’m so glad to see you. I tried to contact you at the hospital but they said you weren’t on Maternity any more and I’ve felt so guilty…so guilty for what I said to you that day…And it wasn’t your fault…I knew it wasn’t your fault…That you’d done your best to save Lisa…That it was my fault if it was anyone’s that she’d gone off like that, and—’
‘Hey, Marian, slow down,’ said Jenny, clearly stunned by the woman’s unexpected reaction to her visitor. ‘What’s going on here? Callie said she was one of your volunteers.’
‘Actually, I didn’t…’ Callie began, unhappy with the implication that she’d lied, even though she knew she hadn’t corrected the midwife’s mistaken assumption. Marian’s voice overrode hers easily.
‘I should be so lucky!’ she exclaimed with a dramatic roll of her eyes as she slumped into the nearest chair, clearly well at home in the room. ‘Jenny, I don’t know whether she’s said anything, but this is the doctor I was telling you about a little while ago. She was there when my Lisa died. She and her husband were the ones who saved my granddaughter’s life.’
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