Trouble in Nirvana (23 page)

Tom wouldn’t let him for one thing. There was a strong underlying network of love and friendship here. One she didn’t belong to, except peripherally. Primrose swallowed back a rush of tears. She bit her lip. She didn’t belong here or anywhere despite the reassurance of Nirupam. She was the interloper peering through the window at the people inside, allowed in briefly before being sent on her way.

The trouble she’d caused had all been focussed on the men and they weren’t nearly as forgiving as her lovely pregnant sister-in-law. She’d stay until the baby was born and then leave. They’d all heave concerted sighs of relief and get back to their lives. So would she. Her holiday was over. Tomorrow she’d have to start practising again if she wanted to hold down any playing positions in the near future. The whole idea made her stomach clench in dread.

****

Primrose must have slept because Nirupam woke her. Scratchy-eyed and muzzy- headed she blinked and tried to focus on the shadowy figure leaning over her bed.

“Rosie, I think the baby’s coming.”

The soft words roused her instantly. She snapped on the light and sprang out of bed. “How soon?”

“I’ve had contractions since about two thirty. They’re quite a way apart but—ooohhh.” She clutched her hands to her middle and sagged on to the bed. Primrose scrabbled about for clothes, raced to the bathroom and then to Nirupam’s room for the bag they’d packed in preparation. When she returned Nirupam was waiting by the door, large in her Indian cotton dress.

“Danny’s not home. I want him, Rosie. I want him to be at the birth.”

“We have to call Ellie. Do you want to come with me to Tom’s or wait here?”

Blank faced, wide eyed, fingers twisting around each other. “I don’t know. I just want Danny.”

No decisions forthcoming there. Primrose yanked the door open and helped Nirupam outside. No way was this going to be a home birth. Not with just the two of them.

“I know. He’ll be at Tom’s. We have to go there first to call Ellie.” Damn the lack of mobile coverage in the area. Front or back seat for her passenger? Primrose slung the bag on the back seat. “Do you need to lie down?”

“No.” Nirupam reversed herself carefully on to the seat and swung her legs inside the car. “It’s exciting, Rosie,” she said as Primrose reversed out of the shed.

“Very.” Five twenty five in the morning. A minimum thirty five minute drive over a rough country mountain road to the hospital. No father so far. Hope like hell Tom was at home.

Fingers of pale dawn light faltered across the sky as Primrose pulled up outside Tom’s slumbering house. A few birds chortled sleepily.

“Wait here.” She gave two sharp bursts on the horn before leaping out and running.

As usual the front door was unlocked. Primrose yanked it wide and ran inside calling, “Tom! Danny! Wake up!” She peeped into the spare room but the bed was empty. No Danny. “Tom?”

Phone Ellie first. She switched on the kitchen light and began dialling.

“What’s going on?” Tom emerged, yawning and rumpled wearing a pair of shorts, chest bare. Primrose yanked her attention away from naked skin, the dark line of hair diving beneath the waistband of his shorts, the smooth roundness of muscled biceps, the ruffled bed hair.

“Nirupam’s having the baby. Where’s Danny?”

“Don’t know, he rode straight on when I came in. Where’s Nirupam?” Primrose waved her arm toward the front of the house as a male voice answered the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Primrose. Can I speak to Ellie, please?”

“Sorry, she’s at the hospital with Maria Dooley. Is Nirupam ready to go?”

“Yes. What should I do?”

“How far along is she?”

“Contractions are about ten minutes apart.”

“Take her in to the hospital. The baby shouldn’t arrive for a few hours at least. Have her waters broken?”

“I don’t know.” What did that mean?

“Get off the phone, love, and call the doc to let him know you’re on the way.”

“All right. Thanks.” Primrose slammed the phone down and dialled again. Tom came back in with a determined expression as she hung up.

Primrose said, “I have to take her to the hospital. Ellie’s already there with someone else.”

“I’ll get dressed.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“Of course. Wait in the car.” He turned. “Take some towels from the cupboard. And a sheet. Just in case.”

“Okay!” Wide-eyed, Primrose did as she was told. Thank God Tom was coming with them. Where the hell was Danny?

Nirupam’s pale face shimmered a smile at her as she ran across to the car with her arms full of Tom’s linen. A whole bundle, whatever had been on the shelf. She flung the lot on to the backseat and said, “Maybe you should switch to the back in case you need to lie down.”

“All right but I need to walk a bit. Baby’s really uncomfortable.” Nirupam heaved herself out of the car and began slowly wandering across the still dark yard toward the sheds. Primrose stared after her, too astonished to speak. A walk? She wanted to go for a walk? The screen door slammed, Tom’s quick tread sounded on the wooden steps. He glanced at Nirupam’s bulky figure then questioningly at Primrose.

“She needed to walk a bit. The baby’s uncomfortable.”

“Going to get a damn sight more uncomfortable.” He held a couple of folded plastic garbage bags.

Nirupam called, “What a lovely morning. The air’s so fresh.”

“Come on Nirupam, we don’t want to have the baby here,” said Primrose.

Nirupam did a very slow arcing turn reminiscent of a supertanker in mid ocean, “I really wanted to have this baby at home.”

“I know but that was when Fern was around, and Danny.” Primrose virtually hopped up and down in her exasperation. Giving up, she ran to grasp Nirupam’s arm and take her under tow. “Come on!”

“Ooooooohhh.” Nirupam stopped, her face screwed up, eyes closed. Tom ran across and supported her on the other side.

“Try to relax into it,” he said. “When was the last one?”

“Just after we got here.” She grabbed at Primrose, fingers biting into the flesh of her arm.

“We’ve only been here about seven or eight minutes.” Primrose grimaced at Tom, horror struck. “Let’s go!”

“I’ll drive,” he said, forestalling her objection with, “I know the road better, especially in the dark.”

Pastel pink and yellow light was strengthening over to the east but Primrose wasn’t about to argue. She grabbed the bundle of linen and hurled it through to the front passenger seat to make room for both of them in the back.

Nirupam said, “I think my waters just broke.”

Primrose’s gaze flew to the fluid running down to pool in the dust at their feet.

“Just as well you weren’t in the car,” said Tom. “We’d better get cracking.”

“Oh, gosh.” Primrose wiped clumsily at Nirupam’s legs with one of the towels.

Tom spread the garbage bags across the seat, grabbed a couple of the towels and folded them. “Sit on these.”

Nirupam lowered herself awkwardly into the rear. “I wish Danny was here.”

Primrose clutched her hand. “Me, too.”

“Me, three.” Tom slammed his door. The engine burst into life and the Golf charged down the driveway.

“What if he comes home and I’m not there,” Nirupam cried suddenly.

Cripes! Notes hadn’t entered Primrose’s head. Nothing much had, beyond packing Nirupam into the car and racing for Tom’s phone. Bloody Danny. He shouldn’t have stayed out all night. This was his job.

“I left a note by the phone,” said Tom. “If he goes home and you’re not there he’ll come to my place, for sure.”

“Good thinking.” Primrose caught his eye in the rearview mirror. He smiled. He wasn’t worried at all! Maybe he was used to this isolation, the lack of telecommunication, the lack of medical facilities within easy reach, the rough roads, the distances. The do-it-yourself birth.

Tom ran through the calculations. Thirty minutes from the junction of this road with the main one. Maybe twenty five if he floored it although the Golf was labouring a bit on the hills with the extra passenger weight and they had a steep climb out of the valley. Should be at the intersection in a couple of minutes.

Nirupam’s contractions were about eight minutes apart. Another one due soon. A groan sounded from the rear seat. Her waters had broken so things were happening fast. First baby—no track record.

“Time them, Rose.” The intersection loomed. Tom slowed and stopped at the Stop sign. No point smashing them up in the rush to get there. If worse came to worst he’d helped deliver pups and calves and once, a foal. Not much to do unless something went wrong. A baby wouldn’t be very different.

He eased on to the wider highway and stomped on the accelerator. The sun peeked through the lower trees now, slanting golden rays into his eyes.

“Five minutes,” said Primrose.

The road swung left toward the river, crossed over then sharp right and into the climb. Tall gumtrees crowded the roadside. The sun hadn’t reached this side of the mountains yet and morning mist still hung wispy around the trunks. Cool, dark, mysterious and green with ferns. Four hairpin bends up, three down the other side.

“The last one was only two minutes. Tom stop the car. We have to...oh my goodness.”

Nirupam screamed. He changed down to low gear for the first twist. “I don’t think we should stop.”

“Stop the car,” shrieked Primrose.

“There’s no point.”

“Rosie, I think the baby’s coming.”

“Not yet, it won’t be coming yet. Hang on Nirupam.” Tom wrenched the Golf around the next hairpin. The engine complained, struggled and picked up speed along the straight. Round a wider curve. Up. The third hairpin. A steep straight climb. Leaning forward, urging it on.

“How long until we get there?” asked Primrose.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t wait fifteen minutes,” Nirupam yelled like a sergeant major.

“We have to stop, Tom.” No denying the intensity in her voice.

“All right—as soon as there’s a place.” Far too narrow here with a sheer drop on one side albeit thickly treed, and a rocky cliff face on the other. One more hairpin and they’d be at the top where the road levelled out along the ridge.

Nirupam’s laboured breathing flooded the little car. Every now and again a small whimper indicated the pain and fright. Rose murmured things Tom couldn’t hear. What a champ she was, rising to the occasion this way. Surprising. Not a single complaint.

“Here.” He pulled into the small lay by. Just enough space to fit one car and a very pregnant girl.

Primrose was already out by the time Tom ran around to the back door. Nirupam lay across the seat with her knees drawn up, fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric of her dress.

“Let’s have a look.” He pulled Primrose away firmly.

“Do you know about this?”

“From animals.” He lifted the dress aside. “She looks fairly close. Can we keep going, do you think?”

“No!”

“Nirupam?”

“No,” she gasped. “I want to have my baby here.”

Tom straightened up. He met Primrose’s gaze. “What do you think?” He drew her away from the car. Magpies warbled tunefully overhead. The bush was awake and singing. The cicadas too.

Primrose’s heart thudded so hard her chest felt it would burst. “Can we manage?”

“As long as there are no complications we should be all right. And we’re only fifteen minutes from hospital.”

“I’ll try my phone.” She dived into her handbag but tossed the mobile back in with a disgusted curse.

A drawn out wail rang around the treetops. A few birds scattered from their perches nearby.

Tom knelt down to study the situation again. “Much wider dilation now.”

Primrose perched awkwardly half in the door of the car at Nirupam’s head, wiping her clammy forehead with a moist tissue. Thank goodness Tom had come. No way could she have dealt with this alone. He was so confident and calm. She glanced at his bent head at the other end of the seat. He looked up suddenly. Grey eyes met hers.

“Won’t be long now.”

Nirupam smiled. “Isn’t this exciting?” Her face crumpled. Tears sprang to her lids. “I wish Danny was here.”

Primrose leaned over and pressed her cheek to Nirupam’s. “I’m sorry. But we’ll do our best. Tom’s had experience with births.”

Nirupam’s hand flailed in the air, groping for Primrose’s. She held on firmly staring over Nirupam’s vast belly and raised knees to meet Tom’s gaze. He grinned then bent down to check as Nirupam let out another wild cry.

“I can see the baby’s head. Just the top.”

“The pains are coming all the time now,” gasped Nirupam.

“Hang in there. Won’t be long.”

Primrose’s fingers were being gripped so tightly she thought they’d fall off. What if something terrible happened? She had no idea what, but things did go wrong. This whole birth experience was so violent. Primal.

“Tom?” Her voice came out weak and shaky. “Can you do it?”

“Nirupam’s doing everything. I’m just an observer.” Another violent contraction caused a bellow of agony. “Good girl. Few more of those and we’ll be ready to go.”

“A few more?” Nirupam managed to gasp but another gut wrenching pain twisted the feeble smile from her face.

Tom gritted his teeth against the screams. He could hardly tell her to stop. She was in pain plus frightened and worried and all the rest of it. What a way to start the day. Primrose wiped the beads of perspiration away with one of her little tissues. Her face was as pale and sweaty as Nirupam’s but she was doing the right things, calming, soothing, encouraging as Nirupam yelled. Her eyes locked with his every now and again, fearful but trusting in his ability. Such as it was. If there were complications they’d be in trouble, have to make a dash for the hospital. But this was no time to start doubting. The baby was determined.

The little dark head suddenly pushed further through the opening. “Push hard next time. Couple of big pushes.”

Nirupam did as she was told, propping herself on her elbows, accompanying the effort with more noise than he’d ever imagined she could produce.

“Here it comes.” Tom snatched the last towel to catch the tiny slippery bundle as it slid into the world. Nirupam collapsed back on to the seat. Primrose rushed around to Tom’s side of the car.