Chapter Eighteen
Carrie tried calling Owen again but the more they knew he wasn’t answering, the more it sent Rosie into a panic, and by the time they got back to the house Carrie knew she had to keep her friend calm.
‘There’s no way any vehicle can get through those trees,’ Noah whispered the second they got through the front door and Carrie went to call the ambulance. She’d settled Rosie on the sofa, where she was now writhing around in an agony befitting any labouring woman.
He didn’t need to tell her. She knew it already, but she dialled anyway. She was assured an ambulance would be sent on its way but the bottom of the hill wasn’t the only place trees were down. The call handler took their address, but no sooner had she done so than the phone line went dead.
‘What is it?’ Noah’s face mirrored Carrie’s panic.
‘The phone line, it’s dead.’
‘Are you sure?’ He took the phone, pressed buttons – but nothing. A flash of lightning outside highlighted their faces, the terror that ran through their every limb.
Carrie found her mobile and dialled the emergency services but her heart sank when there was no answer and she checked the screen display to see there was no coverage. ‘Don’t panic, I’ll try the alternative emergency number,’ she rambled. ‘That way the emergency services should get the call via any network that picks me up.’ She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince right now.
‘Well?’ Noah was growing impatient and the groans from the lounge room were becoming more frequent, more urgent.
‘Damn it.’ Carrie put the phone down on the benchtop and stared at it. ‘Still no coverage. I can’t get hold of anyone – we’re on our own.’
Noah ran through to Rosie but came back quickly enough. ‘Carrie…’
Carrie was staring at her phone, frozen in panic.
‘Carrie…come on!’ He was behind her as she turned and looked outside into nothing but darkness. Magnolia Creek was bereft of light; their only company was the sound of the storms, the howling wind and the occasional bolt of lightning, evil in its delivery. Rain pounded the window panes to prove this storm had no intention of easing up.
‘I’m not a midwife. I don’t know how to handle this.’ Carrie shook her head over and over.
‘You know more than me, now come on!’
‘I can’t do it, I can’t.’ Rosie’s yell from the other room planted Carrie’s feet even more firmly on the spot.
‘Carrie, I have no idea what to do.’ Noah’s voice softened but his breathing was hard. ‘We can hope the ambulance crew get here on time but I’m worried they won’t. Carrie, please, Rosie needs us.’
She slumped down against the cupboard, covered her ears at Rosie’s wails asking where they were, shouting for help, begging to keep her safe.
She felt the warmth of Noah’s hands as he tried to gently coax her palms away from her ears. She opened her eyes and looked into his. ‘I can’t do it, I can’t.’
He kneeled down on the cool kitchen tiles. ‘You can, Carrie. This isn’t about Lucas, and it’s not about Megan. It’s not about either of them. This is about Rosie. This is about her baby. Owen’s baby. I know you think you can’t do this, but I’m telling you that you can.’ He smiled at her and touched a hand to her face. ‘I think if you had a choice between your baby being delivered by a paediatrician or a gardener, you’d most likely choose the first option.’
She closed her eyes, tipped her face so his hand was between her skin and her shoulder, but when Rosie yelled again she realised what she was doing. She jumped up.
‘What do you need me to do?’ Noah looked ever thankful she was finally getting a grip.
She froze, but only for a moment longer, and then it was all systems go. And as she called through to Rosie that she was on her way, she yelled out words to keep Rosie informed, words designed not to make her panic, anything she could to keep Rosie calm and herself mentally ready for what was about to happen. Because she had no doubt this baby was coming, fast.
‘I’m getting my first-aid kit,’ she called out. ‘Noah is getting towels…the ambulance is on its way…don’t worry.’ The ambulance would never be there in time, but Rosie didn’t need to know that. Carrie darted around her new home pulling together everything they needed. Noah kept Rosie calm but when Carrie was still upstairs he took the steps two at a time to find out what the delay was.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I can’t find my first-aid kit.’
‘I don’t think it’ll do much good, and we don’t have time to worry about it. Carrie, come on!’
She followed him down the stairs and grabbed the rug from the library. It was still wrapped up in its cellophane waiting to be unrolled when the light fitting was finished in the lounge. She hadn’t wanted it to have a stepladder placed on top, or drill dust caught up in its fibres. She unrolled the rug in the middle of the lounge room floor.
‘I’ll ruin it,’ Rosie shrieked when she saw what Carrie was doing.
Her concern made Carrie smile. ‘I’m not thinking about that right now, Rosie.’ Carrie tore bin liners from a roll and laid them out flat, put clean towels on the top of those and helped Rosie up off the sofa and onto the floor. ‘Rosie, I’ll need to take your trousers off for you, and your undies. Is that OK? I need to see what’s going on.’
Even Rosie managed the twitches of a smile. ‘Hey, I know we’re friends. But this is kind of personal.’ She grimaced as her body reminded her of who was in charge.
Carrie removed the garments and propped Rosie’s head and shoulders up with a couple of pillows. ‘You’re much better off on the floor. I can see what’s going on without cushions and arms of the sofa getting in my way.’ When she squeezed Rosie’s arm reassuringly Rosie grabbed hold of her hand.
‘Carrie, I’m scared.’
‘Me too.’ She looked at her friend, then at Noah, all three of them wrapped up in this together. But she was the one with the medical knowledge, the only one of the trio who could take control, and she had no choice in the matter.
Beside them she had placed towels. She told Noah to wash his hands, up to his elbows. She did the same, scrubbing them over the kitchen sink as the wind angrily rattled the window panes. She dried her skin with kitchen towel and used the small hand sanitiser from her handbag, liberally, paranoid about spreading germs in a less-than-ideal environment for a girl giving birth for the first time. But as she rubbed the hand sanitiser in the groaning changed to a scream and she darted back into the lounge, where Rosie was no longer writhing side to side but was lying on her back very much ready to give birth here and now.
‘Hold her hand, Noah,’ Carrie instructed. ‘It’s OK, Rosie. We’re both here for you.’
‘I want Owen.’ Tears streamed down her face.
‘I know you do, and he’ll be here when he can.’ She’d sent him countless text messages. She was as anxious for him to arrive as Rosie was. ‘Just breathe, you’re doing really well.’
‘Oh my God, I want to push!’ Rosie yelled.
Carrie checked and told her, ‘I can see the head.’
‘Really?’ A look of elation was superseded by the onslaught of further contractions.
‘Not long now, Rosie. Your baby is coming.’ Carrie didn’t have the same knowledge or training as a midwife or obstetrician and she hoped she was doing and saying all the right things. She had no intention of letting Rosie know a single one of her doubts, though, because this woman and child were relying on her. She couldn’t let them down, she just couldn’t.
‘Can you push, Rosie? Push for me.’
‘I can’t do this, I can’t.’ Rosie tilted her head to Noah’s arm, her forehead against his skin, and Noah cradled her cheek with his strong hands, telling her that yes, she absolutely could.
‘The baby is coming, Rosie.’ Carrie urged again. ‘It’s not the way you planned, but your body is built for this, remember. You can do it. Come on, push.’
Rosie pushed and the head emerged further. ‘That’s it, you’re doing brilliantly. Stop pushing, pant instead.’ Carrie was aware she was shouting, but tried to dial down her panic. ‘Pant for me, that’s it,’ she encouraged when Rosie did as she was asked.
Carrie checked around the baby’s neck but felt no signs of the cord. She almost collapsed in relief, but the job wasn’t over yet. ‘Can you give me one more push, just a small one?’
Rosie looked defeated but with Noah’s encouragement the baby emerged further and Carrie was able to ease the shoulders out one at a time. ‘Almost there. Once more, Rosie. Come on, we’ve got this.’
Rosie shut her eyes and gave one more push and Carrie felt the baby slither into the towel already covering her arms.
Rosie’s relief was short-lived when she didn’t hear the baby’s first cries. ‘What’s wrong? Why isn’t my baby crying?’ She looked to Carrie, to Noah, and back again.
Carrie couldn’t speak. She’d wrapped the towel around the baby and she massaged its body with the material to stimulate its breathing. As though nobody else was there, she breathed close to the baby’s face. ‘Come on, little one.’ She rubbed again, blocking out Rosie’s panic. And in those few moments, when she and Rosie made eye contact as though this was a real-life nightmare, when she and Noah looked at one another in sheer terror, the baby took its first cries.
‘Thank God, thank God, thank God,’ Carrie said over and over.
Noah suddenly shot up off the floor and Carrie was aware of footsteps before the ambulance crew and a midwife filled the room. She handed the baby to its mother and Rosie took the first peek beneath the towel. ‘It’s a boy,’ she said to Carrie, crying almost as much as her little baby was.
‘It’s a boy,’ Carrie repeated, only happy tears filling her eyes now.
Paramedics busied around them but Carrie couldn’t hear any of it. She gazed at mother, at baby, the bond immediate, the power of something that happened every day taking place in her own lounge room here in the quiet, unassuming town of Magnolia Creek.
And then Owen was there, but as soon as he saw Rosie, the smile on her face, the bundle of joy in her arms, he kneeled down beside them both: their little family. Safe and intact.
Carrie crept away to the bathroom vaguely aware of the ambulance crew talking about the storms, the trees that had rendered the roads impassable, the fire brigade that had cleared the roads. Owen was a member of that crew, completely unaware of why the ambulance needed to get right through. He hadn’t answered his phone, his mind had been on the job.
When Carrie emerged from the bathroom upstairs, Noah was sitting on the bed. The lamp was on, a soft light glowed, and the rest of the house was quiet. Even the wind seemed to have died down and the rain left them alone for now.
‘The ambulance has gone,’ he said.
She sat down beside him. ‘Are they going to be OK?’
Noah put his hand on hers. ‘Thanks to you, they’re both going to be just fine. Owen went with them, said he didn’t want to be around when you saw the state of your new rug.’
Carrie grinned. ‘Typical men, making jokes in a terrible situation.’
‘Hey, it’s not a terrible situation. It might have been, but because you were here it wasn’t. You were amazing, Carrie. You took control while I sat there terrified.’
‘You told me I could do it, you said I had to.’
‘I was literally shaking. Remember what I’m like with blood?’
‘I’d forgotten about that completely.’ She covered her mouth to stop the laughter, the release giggling gave her. ‘There was a lot of blood.’
‘I know, but I wasn’t going to leave either of you.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘And to think, I only came here to measure up for a shed.’
‘Kind of got more than you bargained for.’
‘I’ll say.’ He looked at her with a fondness that catapulted their friendship into new territory.
‘You don’t fancy training up in a new midwifery career then?’ she teased.
His brow crinkled. ‘Do they even have male midwives?’
‘Actually, they do. Not many, but it’s not unheard of.’ She reached for a hairband on the bedside table and wound her hair up away from her face. It tickled her cheek when a tendril escaped.
Noah reached out and hooked it behind her ear. ‘I think I’ll stick to plants – they’re much easier to deliver into the world.’
‘I still can’t believe what went on here today.’ She shook her head.
‘Me neither. But we did it. Or at least you did it. You saved two lives tonight. You were in control in the end and the fact you were scared only goes to show how much you care. And it’s not a criticism, believe me.’
Carrie knew tonight could’ve gone very differently. ‘You’re dishing out a lot of compliments. Does that mean you admit you were wrong about me?’
‘How so?’
‘Well, you called me a princess, assumed I thought I was better than anyone else, was afraid to get my hands dirty.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t think I could ever accuse you of that after tonight. So much blood.’ He shuddered. ‘OK, I admit that perhaps I was wrong about you.’
‘So come on, I’ve divulged a lot of secrets to you lately,’ she said. ‘I want to know what your story is.’
He looked at her, perplexed. ‘I don’t have a story.’
‘Of course you do. Everyone does.’
But before he could share anything, Carrie’s phone rang. ‘That could be Rosie or Owen.’ She leaned back and snatched it up from where it was lying on the bed but when she saw the display and the name she walked over to the window. ‘Hi, Lachlan.’ She turned and Noah nodded to her, stood up and made for the stairs.
She didn’t want him to go but Lachlan was talking in her ear. He’d heard about the storms, wanted to check she was OK, and so she had to take the call.
‘You’re not going to believe what went on here tonight,’ she began, resigned to the fact that Noah had already gone.