‘At this stage I do not believe it is either necessary or constructive to add to your wife’s anxiety. And I must reiterate to you that we are talking about a worst-case scenario.’
‘There is no way I would ever countenance anything that would put Maddy’s life at risk,’ Max started to tell him. ‘Even if that meant that … the baby … that a termination …’
The consultant looked at him with sympathy. ‘We’ll advise you and your wife of the best course of action as her pregnancy progresses.’
Max closed his eyes in mute despair. He knew full well just how Maddy would react. She was the kind of person who would always put the needs of others before her own, all the more so when that other was their unborn child.
Behind his closed eyelids Max cursed himself for the fact that she was pregnant. They already had a family, three children. He found himself wishing passionately that the coming baby had never been conceived, hating it almost for the danger it represented to Maddy, and hating himself even more for what he was feeling. Surely the best thing that could happen now for all their sakes would be for this pregnancy to end.
Couldn’t nature step in on Maddy’s behalf and remove from her the danger to her life?
Guilt burned like bitter gall in Max’s throat and belly as he acknowledged the grim horror of what he was thinking. The death of his own child before it had even known life.
‘Surely if Maddy’s life was at risk you could just act,’ he began, but the consultant was shaking his head.
‘We would strongly recommend a termination if your wife’s life were in jeopardy, but we would need to consult with her first,’ he told Max sternly.
He felt sorry for Max, but the needs of his patient were his prime concern. His patients, in this case—both Maddy and her unborn child. And there was another problem that he still had to raise with Max.
A little brusquely he did so. ‘Your wife is eighteen weeks pregnant,’ the consultant reminded Max steepling his fingertips together. ‘Twenty weeks is the latest time I personally would want to perform a termination. After that …’
After that, what?’ Max could hear the raw fear in his own voice, taste it in his mouth. ‘That only leaves two weeks to bring Maddy’s blood pressure down.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ the obstetrician conceded quietly. ‘It is unfortunate that your wife missed her earlier antenatal appointments. Had she not done so we could have picked up the problems that much earlier.’ He glanced away from Max before looking back at him to tell him bluntly, ‘I do understand how you must be feeling, but I’ve had prem babies under my care who have survived birth at twenty-three weeks. To abort—’ He stopped compassionately as he saw the emotion Max was struggling to keep under control.
‘Maddy will never agree to sacrifice her baby,’ Max told him. ‘She’d sacrifice herself first.’ When the consultant said nothing, Max protested furiously, ‘For God’s sake, in all humanity you can’t expect … I should be the one to make the decision, to take responsibility. She’s my wife. We already have three children.’
Max could feel the burn of his own emotions stinging the backs of his eyes. Was this then fate’s punishment for him? That in celebrating their love, in his reaffirmation of his vows to love her, he had quite literally sowed the seed of Maddy’s death?
‘We’re talking about a situation that may never occur,’ the consultant reminded Max firmly. ‘If your wife responds well and quickly to treatment, then all will be well. It is, of course, essential at the moment that she is not subjected to any kind of … upset or … pressure.’ He gave Max a long look. ‘I hope I make myself clear.’
Max made a terse nod of his head. He knew that the obstetrician was warning him not to discuss the situation with Maddy or allow her to see his own distress. ‘I understand,’ he confirmed. ‘I have to go home now … to collect our children from school, but I’d like your permission to bring them in to see her.’
He paused and waited.
‘Yes, I can agree to that,’ the doctor told him.
‘… and for me to be able to stay the night here with her,’ Max continued swiftly.
With a small sigh the consultant nodded his head.
‘But I must warn you, any sign that your wife is being upset or distressed in any way by either the presence of her children or her husband and I shall have to ask you to leave.’
Grimly Max inclined his head.
Jenny’s mobile rang just as she was about to leave the supermarket and drive to Olivia’s. When she answered it she heard Max’s voice.
‘Mum …’
‘Max.’ She could detect the tension in his one word.
‘I’m at the hospital.’
‘The hospital?’ Jenny gripped the mobile. ‘What’s wrong … Ben?’
‘No, it isn’t Ben, it’s Maddy,’ Max told her tersely. ‘She’s suffering from pre-eclampsia. I don’t know what’s going to happen yet,’ he continued, overriding Jenny’s anxious questions, ‘but they’re keeping her in. That’s one of the reasons why I’m ringing you. Could you go over to Queensmead and check up on Ben and—Mum—we’re going to need your help not just with Ben but with the kids as well.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jenny reassured him. ‘You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do.’
‘I’m on my way to collect them from school now. I’m taking them straight to the hospital to see Maddy, but if you could come and take them home, I’m going to stay overnight at the General with her but the kids need …’
‘Of course,’ Jenny agreed immediately. ‘I’ll drive over to Queensmead now and check on Ben.’
She could hear the relief in Max’s voice as he thanked her. When she started the car her hands were shaking. They all took Maddy so much for granted, her sunny nature, her calm gentleness, her ability to find room in her generous heart for even someone as irascible and difficult as Ben.
Virtually singlehandedly she had turned Queensmead from a cold unwelcoming barn of a house that no one had ever liked to visit into a warm welcoming haven which increasingly had become the hub of Crighton family life. The work she did for the Mums and Babes charity was of incalculable value. She had surprised everyone, including herself, not just with her administrative talents but even more so with her flair for fund raising. No matter how busy she was she still always found time for those who asked for it.
Max adored her and if anything were to happen to her … Jenny knew how potentially serious her condition was—how dangerous.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel of the car. The first thing she did when she reached Queensmead was ring Jon but all she could reach was his message service. Her mouth compressing, Jenny dropped the phone into her handbag without bothering to leave any message.
Ben was asleep in his arm chair when she walked into the library. Gently she woke him up.
‘Where’s Maddy?’ he demanded irritably. ‘I’m hungry. Gone off gadding somewhere with Max, I suppose. She’s supposed to be here looking after me. Acting like this house is their own. Huh … we shall see about that….’
Squashing her irritation, Jenny explained what had happened. The whole family made allowances for the often irascible Ben who had never reconciled himself to the death of his twin brother. But, increasingly, he was making challenging and hurtful comments about both Maddy and Max and about their future tenure of the house.
Jenny knew that Max felt concerned enough to have bought a large piece of land on the other side of town on which he hoped he would be able to build a new house for himself, Maddy and the children if Ben ever did carry out his threat to disinherit him.
‘David