Claire briefly debated where to sleep. Campbell had a guest bedroom, she should use that. But as she stood in his doorway, his king-sized bed beckoned. The bed where she had slept with him only a few nights before. It was unmade, the sheets twisted, the pillows skew. She could almost picture him in it. Maybe if she’d been less tired and had had greater capacity to think rationally, she’d have chosen the guest room, but his bed was just too tempting to ignore.
As her head hit his pillow, she wondered fleetingly at the wisdom of being naked in his bed. But she was going to be out of here before he got home. Besides, she was too tired to move now. And the pillow smelt so-o-o good. It smelt like man. It smelt like Campbell.
* * *
For a day that had started out as bleakly as Campbell’s, it had improved rapidly. Just the thought of Claire in his bed was enough to keep a smile permanently plastered on his face. Campbell’s behaviour was enough, without gossip from William Casey, to confirm to all and sundry at St Jude’s that he had indeed made progress with Sister West.
Campbell was sure he even saw money exchange hands on some of his rounds. It seemed his frivolity, along with the idiotic grin that he didn’t seem to be able to shift, was enough to declare him the winner. Given that the opposite was true, he knew Claire would be furious, but he was just too damned happy to care at the moment.
He tried really hard all day not to fantasise about her asleep in his bed. And not to speculate about what she was wearing, because that led to images of a naked Claire and he really couldn’t concentrate on his job. At all.
And he had to keep reminding himself that she had insisted she wasn’t going to be there when he got home. Still, at least he could lie down where she’d been and smell her scent once again. It had started to fade from his sheets.
Campbell had a morning theatre list, which he whistled his way through. It was amazing he didn’t accidentally incise something he wasn’t supposed to, given how shot his concentration was. Luckily, they were procedures he could perform with his eyes closed.
The last op was a Caesarean for transverse foetal position. This scenario was a no-brainer for Campbell. Babies lying sideways across the uterus couldn’t be born any other way. He tugged the wet and slippery baby from the safety of her mother’s womb and was pleased to hear the little girl wail heartily at the intrusion.
He held the baby up over the top of the drape so her parents could grab a quick look before a nurse whisked her off to check her over. She returned the precious package to the parents a few minutes later, wrapped up as snug as a bug in a rug. Baby Anne looked very content, Campbell thought as he prepared to close the surgical incision.
He tried to tackle some paperwork at lunchtime but instead daydreamed about Claire and subsequently got nothing much achieved.
His afternoon clinic commenced at two and was filled with the usual antenatal checks. Weight, urine, baby’s position, foetal growth and heartbeat.
He’d finished for the day and was signing his name to the last chart when Andrea popped her head in.
‘Sorry, Campbell, I’ve just had a call from Hillary Beetson.’
‘Do I know her?’ Campbell searched his memory bank unsuccessfully.
‘No. She’s one of Martin’s patients, but everyone has left for the day and you’re on call. She’s just rung to say she hasn’t felt the baby move all day. I told her to come straight up and you could squeeze her in.’ She ended with a sweet, pleading look, handing Hillary’s chart to him.
‘How many weeks?’
‘Thirty-six.’
Despite Campbell’s urge to make a quick getaway, he knew he had to see this client. ‘Let me know when she gets here,’ he sighed, thumbing through the chart.
The scenario was common enough. As the pregnancy reached its advanced stages and the foetus grew larger, there was less and less room for the baby to move. Decreased foetal movements were common in the last few weeks and usually meant nothing.
But Campbell also knew that it couldn’t be ignored. An intra-uterine death at this late stage was unlikely but it was one of the more sinister possibilities. He pushed fantasies of Claire at home in his bed to one side and focused.
Five minutes later Andrea informed him that his patient had arrived.
‘Afternoon, Hillary,’ he greeted her confidently, introducing himself.
‘Hi,’ she said. She looked anxious and Campbell pulled up a chair beside his patient, hoping to allay her fears.
‘Andrea tells me you haven’t felt the baby move today.’
‘That’s right, I only realised a little while ago I haven’t felt any movements since last night. It’s usually so active but I’ve been so busy today …’ she replied softly, obviously worried. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing usually,’ Campbell reassured her, ‘there’s not a whole lot of room for the baby to move around now, so it’s common enough to go for longer than usual without feeling the baby move.’
‘Oh. OK. That’s a relief,’ Hillary exhaled loudly.
‘We’ll just listen for the heartbeat first and then see if we can’t prod it into giving us a kick.’
Hillary got up on the examination bed and Campbell waited while Andrea had squirted some gel on Hillary’s bulging abdomen, running the Doppler through it to locate the heartbeat.
Campbell watched Andrea try several spots where the heartbeat was usually found. Nothing. Andrea stopped and palpated the abdomen, locating the baby’s head low down in the pelvis, satisfying herself that she was indeed looking in the right places. Silence still greeted her attempts to find the heartbeat.
She turned to Campbell and handed him the transducer. Her eyes said it all. She was worried. Campbell felt the first prickles of impending doom.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Hillary, the worried edge back in her voice. ‘Why can’t we hear it?’
‘They can be tricky to find sometimes,’ Campbell said, injecting into his voice a confidence he didn’t feel.
He got Andrea to try and stimulate the baby to move while he ran the transducer all over, listening for the whup, whup, whup that indicated life. She poked and prodded. Nothing.
Campbell was very concerned now. ‘Get someone from Ultrasound up here now,’ he told Andrea, his voice calm but his eyes conveying urgency. She left immediately.
‘What’s wrong?’ Hillary asked, raising herself on her elbows, tears gathering in her eyes. ‘Why can’t you find it?’
‘Sometimes the baby’s position can make it really hard. Sometimes the mother’s heartbeat can confuse things. I want to get an ultrasound. We’ll know more after that. It’s probably just the baby playing hard to get.’ He smiled, trying to reassure her. ‘Why don’t we ring your partner to come and be with you?’
‘I rang Danny already. He should be here soon.’
Danny, Andrea and Darren from Ultrasound all arrived together a couple of minutes later. Campbell explained to Danny what was happening.
‘What’s the worst-case scenario, Doc?’ asked Danny, coming right to the point.
‘Let’s just get this picture first. I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves.’
Andrea switched out the lights and Darren applied more gel to Hillary’s tummy. Danny stood behind the bed, his hands on his wife’s shoulders.
The screen flickered and their baby came into view. Darren manipulated the transducer to get a look at the heart. Campbell’s worst fears were realised when no heart movement could be detected at all. He stared at the screen silently, willing the heart to move, to beat, but … nothing.