Man Drought (11 page)

‘No, you’re not. But try to think now. What did they teach you?’

Amy’s brow furrowed slightly and then she said, ‘Well, first stage of labour, you’re supposed to breathe deeply to keep calm and relaxed. How am I doing at that?’

Everyone laughed – even Gibson, which shocked Imogen, because she hadn’t realised he was capable. When the laughter died down, seriousness returned to Gibson’s face. ‘Do you think you might be further along than you think?’

Amy went pale, but before she could reply her contractions started all over again.

Imogen stepped back, helpless, as her friend rocked on the bed, her face contorting in agony.

‘Why the hell is this happening to me? I was going to have a fucking epidural. Do you do epis?’

‘Sorry, we’re not sanctioned to administer drugs.’

‘But you’ve done this before, right?’

Imogen saw Gibson swallow.

‘Dave, we need that obstetrician. Now.’

Dave set to dialling again.

‘Imogen,’ Gibson addressed her, for the first time using her actual name. ‘We’re going to need towels, more water and some wet flannels.’

‘Okay.’ Thank God there was something useful she could do. ‘We’re onto it.’

‘Thanks.’ Turning his back on Imogen and Jenna, Gibson returned his focus to Amy.

As Imogen and Jenna left the room and hurried down the corridor towards the linen storeroom, Jenna rambled, ‘Oh my goodness, I can’t believe this is happening. You are going to have a baby born right here in your pub. You might make the news. This is going to be brilliant publicity.’

‘If the baby’s okay.’ Imogen couldn’t rid the sense of dread that was building in her gut.

Jenna scoffed. ‘Of course it’ll be okay. Can’t be anything else. Amy’s doing a good job so far and those ambo guys know what they’re doing. And one of them is totally
hot
!’ She bounced on the spot like a cartoon jelly bean.

Imogen rolled her eyes. No points for guessing who Jenna was referring to. ‘It doesn’t matter if they’re good-looking,’ she spat. ‘For once in your life, can you think with your brain instead of your libido?’ They’d arrived at the storeroom. She wrenched the door open and stormed inside.

‘Whoa, what’s got your goat?’ Jenna asked, close behind.

‘I’ll tell you what’s got my goat.’ Imogen whirled around, her
hands snapping to her hips as fury raged within her. ‘Amy scared the hell of me out there. They’ve wanted this baby forever – five IVF attempts, and she’s in labour way before her due date. And while Amy’s in need and I’m terrified, where the hell are you? In a cupboard, bonking some bloke you’ve only just met. That’s what’s got my goat.’

Nodding slowly, as if Imogen belonged in the looney bin, Jenna began grabbing towels. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said shortly, red rushing to her cheeks.

Crap!
Imogen immediately regretted the outburst. Now, not only had she let one friend work too hard today, which had possibly induced early labour, she’d probably alienated the other.

‘I’m sorry, Jenna,’ Imogen began, grabbing some flannels. ‘I don’t know what’s come over me.’ She guessed it had something to do with Amy’s mention of Imogen moving on, the thoughts that suggestion had sparked, and then Gibson turning up so soon after. The fact that Jenna was indulging in the exact activity Imogen was trying not to think about didn’t help at all. And on top of all that … ‘I guess I’m just worried about Amy. I had no right—-’

‘It’s okay,’ Jenna said forcefully. ‘Let’s just get back to her.’

And she was right. Amy had to be their priority right now.

Armed with supplies, they headed back to the room and opened the door to hear an unfamiliar but authoritative female voice on speakerphone. ‘Right, as Amy is fully dilated, she can start pushing when she’s ready.’

Pushing? Where the hell had that come from? Weren’t first babies supposed to take their time? Lots of time?

But the scene in the room told Imogen that this baby was coming now. Amy lay propped up against the pillows, her knees up around her shoulders and her legs open wide. Gibson knelt at the end of the bed, leaning over, his gloved hands probing Amy’s privates. The sight made Imogen squirm but Amy seemed beyond caring.

‘Have you called Ryan?’ she panted.

‘I will do, in a moment.’ And what the hell was she going to say to him? He’d want to jump in the car immediately, but … would they take Amy to Kalgoorlie or to Perth? Imogen looked to Gibson. ‘Is the baby coming now?’

‘Looks that way,’ he said, without even glancing in her direction.

Amy shrieked her way into another contraction that quickly became a long, guttural groan. ‘I. Want. To. Push.’

Imogen dropped the towels on a nearby chair and then knelt down beside Amy. ‘Do you need my hand again?’ she asked. Anything not to have to watch Gibson do what he had to do.

‘Thanks.’ Amy took Imogen’s hand and smiled.

Things went fast after that.

Gibson had never delivered a baby before. If he’d thought it was even a remote possibility, he’d never have joined St John’s as a volunteer officer in the first place, but all the trainers he ever listened to had professed that a woman in labour in a tiny outback town was a rarity. Most went to Perth, or a nearer large town, long before their due date. In fact, this type of emergency was so rare that, despite having monthly training sessions to keep their skills up-to-date, he’d never studied childbirth.

But here he was, just after seven o’clock on a Saturday night – when he’d normally be settling down on the couch with his TV remote – helping a total stranger give birth. Just his luck, he’d scored a woman who’d travelled
away
from the safety of a city hospital. Not that she was
that
near her due date – even he knew human babies incubated for forty weeks. She’d gone into labour a whole month early.

As Amy’s perineum (a word he learnt from the on-call doctor)
bulged during the contraction, he fought his rising panic and managed to say, ‘I can see the top of the head.’

A head!
If he weren’t already kneeling, his legs might have collapsed underneath him. This baby had its own agenda, and that didn’t include waiting for the Flying Doctor. Gibson was about to add midwife to his curriculum vitae.

‘You can both do this,’ came his mentor’s voice from the phone’s speaker. ‘I want you to listen carefully and follow my instructions.’

‘Will do,’ he replied. This whole thing terrified him but he wasn’t about to let it show. Although he’d never anticipated delivering a baby, once upon a time he had imagined being there for the birth of his child – but that was never going to happen now. Maybe he should be grateful he was getting the chance to get this close.

The doctor explained that he should encourage Amy to push during each contraction, but when the perineum started to really stretch, she’d need to pant to allow him to guide the baby’s head out.

Too easy.
Gibson gulped. ‘Thanks, doc.’

With a series of instructions that went something like, ‘Push, that’s the way, Amy. Stop pushing, start panting. Pant, Amy, PANT,’ he watched in wonder as the crown of the baby’s head slowly grew in size and retreated less after each contraction finished.

Despite her shock at going into labour early, far from home and far from her husband, she did an amazing job. She didn’t panic but concentrated on her panting and pushed whenever the listening doctor instructed. Her friends sat on either side of her, providing sips of water, hands to hold and a constant stream of encouragement, despite Amy ranting at them. But as the minutes passed and the contractions increased in strength and frequency, she started to tire.

‘I can’t do this anymore.’ Exhausted, Amy fell back with a sob.

Gibson snapped his head up – she couldn’t give up now – but
his gaze met Imogen’s instead. She smiled encouragingly, her eyes supporting him even though he guessed she was as terrified as him. Because of her smile, he had the confidence to continue.

‘Yes, you can,’ he said, looking to Amy. ‘You’re almost there. I reckon with the next contraction you might have your baby.’ He sounded far more confident than he felt, but fortunately Amy didn’t know that and neither, he hoped, did Jenna nor Imogen.

Beside Gibson, Dave changed his gloves again and readied towels and blankets for the newborn. Under the doctor’s guidance, Gibson pressed two fingers onto the baby’s head to keep it in the right position. He was trying to think logically and calmly, focusing on the doctor’s initial words that births that happened this fast were usually easy and complication free. Oh man, he hoped so. They had one chance and one chance only to do this thing right.

Like an Amazonian superstar, Amy pushed even harder.

The baby’s head was born, and a moment later it turned. As instructed, Gibson carefully ran his fingers around the baby’s neck to check the cord wasn’t wrapped around it. At his touch, the red-faced, black-haired baby cried, and goosebumps flooded his skin. He had to swallow the lump in his throat to say, ‘We’re almost there. One more big push.’

And Amy gave it everything. As she pushed, Gibson gently guided the top shoulder out and then lifted the baby so the bottom shoulder could be delivered. The next moment, on a gush of fluid, the rest of the baby slithered out into his grasp. Big, dark-blue eyes gazed up at him as the goosebumps on his skin multiplied.
A new life
. His throat felt tight and he had to blink a couple of times before he could speak.

‘It’s a boy.’

With a great deal of care, he laid Amy’s son on her belly.

‘Is he okay?’ Amy asked anxiously.

‘Is he?’ came the doctor’s voice on the speaker.

Gibson had almost forgotten her presence, so intent was he on examining his patient. ‘Yes, his breathing is excellent. His colour’s good. He’s amazing.’ His voice choked on the last word.

‘Excellent. Clamp and cut the umbilical cord when you’re ready, and then wrap him to keep him warm,’ the doctor instructed, her voice filled with relief.

Dave, ready with more towels and everything they needed, passed Gibson the medical scissors and he took them, every cell in his body working to keep his hand steady. Wasn’t this job usually given to the father? Pushing that thought aside, he applied the umbilical clamp and cut down on the surprisingly tough cord.

Following the doctor’s instructions, he lifted the little dude slightly and placed him gently on Amy’s chest, where she’d pushed her t-shirt up to get precious skin-to-skin contact with her child. As he draped a towel over the baby to keep him warm, the expression on Amy’s face was priceless. She gazed down at her little man, counted his fingers and toes and explored his simple perfection.

The lump in Gibson’s throat grew to become massive and he quickly changed his gloves, needing the distraction of the simple task.

For the last few minutes, Imogen had been unobtrusively snapping photos with her phone. Shots that would, without a doubt, become favourites in the family album. Jenna now plucked her own phone out of her pocket and dialled. Within moments Amy was speaking tearfully to her husband. While Dave monitored mother and baby, the doctor talked Gibson through delivering the placenta.

And when it was all over, Comms informed them that a plane had been dispatched and would be landing within half an hour. At this news, Gibson breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a hell of a ride so far, but he would be more than glad to hand over to the professionals. Amy and her baby seemed in good health, but he couldn’t forget the fact they were dealing with a premmie.

Gibson didn’t like to hurry Amy, who looked so serene and
content snuggling her baby, but the Flying Doctors didn’t like to wait. ‘We’ve got to get you to the airstrip.’

Gibson, Dave and Imogen stood side by side, watching the plane as it lifted off into the night sky. When it was nothing but a speck, Gibson sighed and tugged off his last set of gloves.

He couldn’t believe it. He’d delivered a baby. Amy was the real hero here – she’d done all the hard work – but he was pretty damn chuffed. The rush of seeing that little face, of hearing his first cry, and knowing he’d had a part in it, was like nothing Gibson had ever experienced before. Keeping the smile off his face would be near impossible tonight. And why should he? This would go down as one of the best, most rewarding days in his life.

‘Thanks for everything,’ said Imogen.

He looked to her and grinned, the first time he’d let his guard down in her presence. ‘Crazy day, hey?’

She laughed, smiling as she blew out air between her lips, making wisps of her thick fringe fly up. The simple gesture showcased her beauty and reminded him of all the reasons he should stay away.

‘You can say that again,’ she said. And then she reached out and rested her fingers against his arm. The touch – although barely there – was like brushing up against an electric fence. ‘Please, come back to the pub and let me buy you guys a drink.’

She glanced at Dave as she made her offer, and her words included both officers, but Gibson felt as if they were just for him. And although he knew accepting would be dangerous, although he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help himself.

‘Thanks,’ he found himself saying. ‘That would be great.’

Imogen couldn’t believe it. Buzzing from the excitement of Amy’s birth, she’d asked Gibson and Dave back to the pub because it seemed the right thing to do, but she never expected a positive reply. Not from Gibson, anyway. He’d even smiled.

She’d felt that smile as heat in every bone of her body, and guessed her happiness was evident in the form of rosy cheeks as well. Oh well, who cared? What was more amazing, more exciting, than watching one of your best friends give birth? And he’d been there.

With Jenna and Amy in the plane on their way to Perth, she wanted to celebrate with someone who’d seen it all happen. The sudden arrival of Amy’s baby had been magical, miraculous even, and she thought – hoped – that now they’d shared something so special, Gibson might treat her differently. Perhaps he’d lose the distance and disdain and let her see the real him: the man she’d seen a glimpse of that night, the man Charlie adored.

‘I’m afraid I’ve got an early start tomorrow,’ said Dave. ‘I’ll have to pass.’ He looked to Gibson. ‘But you go. I’ll drop you two at the pub and then clean and restock the van before I head home.’

‘You sure?’ Gibson looked as if he might be reconsidering his acceptance, and Imogen’s heart stopped beating a moment. Which was stupid – she shouldn’t give a damn if he changed his mind or not.

Dave nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s fine. You look like you could do with a drink.’

Imogen and Gibson stepped inside The Majestic to cheers and shrieks and the best welcoming party ever. Heeding her instructions, Pauli and Cal hadn’t waited to serve their Mexican delights. Full of food, the volunteers were in high spirits, the country music was up loud again and the party was in full swing.

Pauli, her chef’s hat slightly wonky on her head, greeted Gibson and Imogen at the door. ‘Well? Are they okay?’

‘They’re on a plane to Perth right now. The baby’s tiny, but in the competent hands of the Flying Doctors. I think they’ll both be fine.’

Imogen tried to concentrate as a warm hand landed on her back, helping to guide her through the crowd towards the bar. Her spine fizzed with the sensation – a feeling she’d never expected to experience again. Without a doubt, the hand was Gibson’s. She couldn’t believe he was being so chivalrous towards her, but then again, she’d seen a very different side of him today, in the way he’d taken care of Amy. His gentleness and kindness had forced her to look at him in a different light.

Pauli waited until Imogen sat on a stool at the bar before she bombarded her with more questions. ‘Well? What happened? I need details.’

‘How about you get us a drink first?’ Gibson said, his tone dry.

‘Aye aye, captain,’ Pauli fake-saluted and looked him up and down like she’d only just noticed he was there. More likely, his presence surprised her. But she turned and surveyed the choices anyway. ‘What will you be having?’ she called over her shoulder.

‘Champagne,’ Imogen cried, finally finding her voice. ‘The most expensive stuff we have.’

Pauli smiled, selected a chilled bottle of Veuve Clicquot and waved it in the air. ‘Will this do?’

Imogen nodded, unable to keep a grin from twisting her lips. About to tell them everything, she noticed something. ‘Where’s Charlie?’

Pauli scanned the room. ‘Dammit. I sent him to collect glasses ages ago.’ The tables stacked with empties told them he hadn’t followed through on the task.

‘I’ll go.’ Imogen slipped off her stool and scanned the room before starting down the corridor. She found him in her office,
staring at the roster she’d pinned to the corkboard. ‘Charlie?’ she said from the doorway.

He turned. ‘Hello love. Just checking my roster for this week.’

Imogen frowned and stepped inside. ‘I printed you a copy to take home. You said you were going to stick it on your fridge.’

Ignoring this information, Charlie quickly turned grumpy. ‘Where’ve you been, anyway? Cal and I have been run off our feet.’

‘Gibson and I took Amy to the airstrip, remember? She had her baby.’

‘Oh, yeah, of course.’ He scratched the side of his head and sighed. ‘Think I’m just a little tired. How is she? How’s the little one?’

‘It’s been a long day,’ Imogen said.
Understatement of the year.
‘Let’s go get a drink and I’ll fill you in.’ She led Charlie back to the bar and was careful not to let him see when she mouthed at Pauli not to mention the glass thing.

Catching on, Pauli set out five champagne flutes, filled each one with the fancy champagne and called Cal over. A number of guys pulled their stools closer to hear the gossip.

‘Well?’ Pauli asked for the third time in as many minutes. ‘The full story? I thought first babies were supposed to take days of labour.’

Everyone laughed. Imogen looked to Gibson, waiting for him to tell his story, but he just shrugged one shoulder, lifted his glass to his lips and, without waiting for a toast, took a sip.

‘Apparently, not always. It was so fast, my head spun.’ Imogen touched a hand to her forehead in recollection. ‘And it was magical. I’ve never seen a more beautiful, healthy,
loud
baby boy.’

‘Aww!’ Cal and Pauli exclaimed as one.

Pauli quickly wiped her eyes, but not before Imogen noticed the glisten of water. Her chef wasn’t as tough as she liked everyone to believe. ‘I wish we could have been there too.’

‘It was amazing,’ Imogen continued, fingering the stem of her champagne glass. ‘Gibson was amazing.’

All eyes turned to him.

Charlie glowed. ‘You delivered a baby?’

Gibson shrugged again. ‘It isn’t really as difficult as it looks.’ His eyes gleamed wickedly as he looked to Imogen. ‘Amy should take most of the credit.’

It was the most natural thing in the world to elbow him good-naturedly in the side. And Imogen did.

He looked surprised. Clutching his side, he feigned pain and then grinned back at her. ‘So, you tell the story then.’