Page 6 of The Midwife By the Sea

‘I was thinking more that it might make us some money, so we can finally get a place together. My whole life flashed in front of my eyes as I skidded across that road and I thought, bloody hell, is this it? I’m twenty-six and about to die, and I still live at home with my mum and dad.’ It was Ollie’s turn to attempt a laugh, but it made him wince instead. ‘Oh Christ, laughing hurts, but something needs to change after this, Ritch. We’ve got to stop putting our lives on hold, waiting for the future to start.’

‘I thought the same thing.’ Ritchie took a step closer to Ollie and Esther realised she was holding her breath. She was desperate not to make a sound, so that the two of them could pretend she wasn’t even there. Part of her wondered if she should just try to make a break for it, but she had a horrible feeling it would disrupt the moment even more. All she could do was stay as still as possible and hope her heart wasn’t hammering anywhere near as loudly as it felt like it was.

‘When I saw you lose control of the bike and hit the tarmac, I really thought that might be it.’ Any attempt at humour had left Ritchie’s voice, which caught on the words, as Ollie made a grab for his hand.

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily.’

‘I don’t want to get rid of you, I…’ Ritchie dropped his head; Esther silently urging him on. He’d come this far and it was obvious how desperately he wanted to say the words, but she could see just how big a deal they were and she’d understand if he backed down from saying them.

‘Oh my God, Ollie!’ Suddenly a middle-aged woman, with short dark hair and a terrified look on her face rushed into the cubicle, followed by a very tall, extremely slim man, whose pinched expression made him look every bit as anxious as his wife. The nurse who must have brought them into the department was just behind them. ‘I thought we’d lost you. Those bloody bikes. I told you that this would happen one day, Alan, if we let him have one of those bloody bikes.’

The woman was crying now, turning from the man beside her to Ollie and back again.

‘I’m alright, Mum, thanks to Ritchie. He stopped the traffic when I came off the bike and made sure the ambulance got to me as soon as it could. I owe him everything.’ Ollie looked towards where Ritchie was standing, silent and paler than ever. Something in Ollie’s eyes told the truth that these two young men still hadn’t had the chance to exchange, and Esther finally let go of the breath she’d been holding. She was almost certain that Ollie loved Ritchie too, and that it was the kind of love they could build a lifetime on. Even if it wasn’t, she was convinced their bond was strong enough to survive Ritchie’s revelation, when he finally got the chance to say what he needed to say. Whatever the truth of their feelings, she desperately wanted to believe that neither of them would choose to give up a friendship as special as theirs clearly was, even if it turned out that was all they could have. Surely, they’d find a way to work it out when they’d been given something so precious; the sort of friendship you’d risk everything for. Not everyone got that in life, but she had it with Danni. She wanted to find her friend and tell her she was sorry for pushing her away so often lately, and just how grateful she felt to have Danni by her side. And as soon as she got the chance, that was exactly what she was going to do.

4

The opportunity for Esther to tell Danni how she felt presented itself less than an hour later, when she suggested they go for coffee at the Friends of St Piran’s Hospital shop at the end of the shift, before they headed home. Ollie had been taken to theatre for his operation, and Ritchie had told Esther he was taking Ollie’s parents to the hospital restaurant to try and keep them occupied while they waited for news. He’d also told her he was glad of the interruption in the end, because Ollie had been dosed up on quite a lot of painkillers and he didn’t want there to be any chance that his friend wouldn’t remember the declaration of love that Ritchie wanted to make.

‘I can’t say those words twice and risk getting rejected both times.’ He’d managed a rueful smile, and she’d got the impression he was feeling more confident than he had been before about how Ollie might react when they finally had the chance to talk.

Esther had felt a bit bereft watching Ritchie disappearing down the corridor with Ollie’s parents, wondering if she’d ever know what happened next. But maybe it was best left to her imagination; sometimes things were better that way.

‘I think there’ll be a happy ever after, I really do,’ Esther confided, as she and Danni reached the hospital shop. She’d wanted to share the story with Danni, because it felt like a good way to lay the groundwork for the conversation they needed to have. It didn’t break patient confidentiality, because it didn’t concern anything medical, and she knew she could trust Danni with what she’d told her, because she could trust her with her life if she needed to.

‘I hope they do.’ Danni turned towards her as she spoke. ‘Either way, I think you’ve earned some chocolate after all that emotional turmoil. I feel like I need some too and I wasn’t even there!’

‘I’ll get it.’ Esther waved her friend away as Danni tried to protest. ‘What will it be, a cappuccino and a Crunchie?’

‘You know me far too well!’

‘I do, and having shared a flat with you for all that time, I know you consider Crunchies to be every bit as essential as milk and bread.’ Esther grinned. They’d had so much fun living and working side by side during part of their training, and they’d never once had a falling out in all the years of shared bills and shared bathrooms. That in itself was a huge measure of their friendship. ‘Go and grab us a table and I’ll get the essential supplies sorted.’

The Friends of St Piran’s shop was the one place in the hospital where you could get decent coffee, which would have made it a central meeting point, even if it hadn’t been run by Gwen, a retired midwife, who now headed up the volunteering team and was like a substitute mum and agony aunt all rolled into one. When Esther finally made it to the front of the queue, Gwen greeted her with the same warm smile she always seemed to be wearing.

‘Was that Danni I spied you with?’ she asked, but not even waiting for the answer before she continued. ‘Let me guess. Two cappuccinos, a Crunchie and a Ripple?’

‘Are we that predictable?’ Esther couldn’t help laughing.

‘You just know what hits best at the end of a shift, that’s all, and you can’t beat coffee and chocolate, it’s almost as good a combination as you and Danni.’ Gwen pushed a pile of flyers that were stacked on the counter slightly to one side and, when Esther glanced down at them, she found herself wondering if it had been a subtle but deliberate move on the older woman’s part. Gwen had been party to some of the conversations between Esther and her friends at the hospital about trying for a baby, and it would be just like her to want to find a solution.

In a large font across the top of the glossy A5 flyer, it read:

Three Ports Infertility Support Group

There was a picture of a group of mostly women, sitting around a table with cups in their hands, and below that some more writing:

We meet every second and fourth Thursday of the month from 7 until 9p.m. at The Cookie Jar café, Port Agnes. Email Anna or Jess at [email protected] for more information.

Esther stared at the flyer for a moment, wondering if Gwen was going to say anything, before realising that the woman had already turned away to make the coffees. Picking up one of the leaflets, Esther stuffed it into her pocket. She’d heard about the group and wondered if she might find it useful to go along, to get some reassurance that she and Joe were only at the very start of their journey to parenthood, and that there were lots of avenues still open. Yet she’d resisted going, because she’d been worried that reaching out to the group might make it feel as if she was admitting that’s who they were now: an infertile couple. She hadn’t been ready to accept that idea – she still wasn’t – but maybe it was time to start some conversations between her and Joe that they’d both been putting off. There’d be people in the group taking all sorts of routes to parenthood and, even if she and Joe weren’t ready to start down any of those paths yet, it might be time to talk about the other options. Putting off important conversations was often a bad idea. Spending time with Ritchie had reminded her of that. Stuffing the flyer into her pocket had been instinctive, but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to see what the group could offer. As long as she was clear with Joe that she was nowhere near ready to give up on the dream of having a baby of their own, she couldn’t imagine what harm it could possibly do.

‘Right, there you go, my love, one normal cappuccino and one decaf.’ Gwen set the coffees down in front of Esther and it took a moment for her to register what the older woman had said.

‘I don’t think I asked for a decaf.’ She paused for a moment, trying to rewind the conversation in her head. ‘Did I?’

‘Oh, err, I…’ Gwen was never lost for words, but her eyes darted to the left for a moment as if the answer lay there, before looking back at Esther again. ‘No, you didn’t, but Danni has switched to decaf for most of her coffees lately. She said something about it meaning she could have more of them that way and let’s face it, you guys definitely need unlimited coffee in your jobs.’

‘That’s true enough. Thank you.’ Esther furrowed her brow for a moment, trying to remember if Danni had mentioned anything about switching to decaf recently, and it struck her that her friend had been drinking far less coffee, sticking to sparkling water and offering to be the designated driver the last few times Esther and Joe had gone out with Danni and Charlie. She’d said it was because toddlers had no idea how to go easy on parents who were feeling a bit fuzzy-headed the next morning, which was almost certainly the case. But as Esther walked towards her friend and really looked at her, she realised with a certainty that made it impossible to believe she hadn’t already guessed – that Danni was pregnant.