One Tiny Miracle... (9 page)

Celeste could only feel guilty relief that it wasn’t for
Willow but for the little one in the next cot. ‘Not
just
a friend.’ Celeste looked at him. ‘There’s no such thing as
just
with you.’

Ben tried not to over-analyse that comment too much. It was just one of those things—she was grateful probably that he’d been there tonight, for his help these past weeks, and no doubt glad she didn’t have to sit alone on this hellish night, because it wasn’t actually Celeste who’d drawn the short straw.

The wait to speak with Heath was endless, and she couldn’t go to Willow because, as well as working on her, they were working intensely on the tiny infant in the next cot. Ben thought his job was agony at times, but when the other baby’s parents arrived, pale and shocked and visibly terrified, he wouldn’t have been Heath or the charge nurse for a million dollars. Unlike Celeste, they got to hold their baby straight away.

Because it was already too late.

‘We’re concerned about Celeste,’ Heath said.

Ben had sat with Celeste until Heath had taken them through Willow’s X-rays and blood results and asked all the questions that Celeste was just too overwhelmed to ask, but would surely regret not asking later. Until finally she was taken in to sit with Willow.

‘I’m not Willow’s father,’ Ben interrupted.

‘Her partner?’

‘No.’ Ben shook his head.

‘I’m sorry.’ Heath frowned. ‘Only Bron said that you’d been in a few times at night to see Willow.’

For the first time in his adult life Ben was coming
close to blushing—he felt as if he’d been caught out doing something wrong. Oh, he’d only been up a handful of times—and never when Celeste was around. He’d just wanted to see for himself how the baby was doing.

Clearly, it had been noted!

‘I’m a doctor here.’ Ben cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘And as I said, Celeste’s a friend. I pop in occasionally to check on the baby. I delivered her…’

‘I see.’ But obviously he didn’t.

‘You said you were concerned about her?’ Ben pursued.

‘Look, I thought you were her partner. I’m sorry, my mistake—it’s been a long night,’ Heath said.

Ben realised that if he wanted to, he could just walk away now—ignore the slight indiscretion, say goodnight to Celeste and just fall into bed for what remained of the night. But he didn’t want to.

‘We’re very good friends,’ Ben said. ‘If I can help in any way…’

‘She just needs a break. It’s exceptionally unfortunate that Willow got sick on the one night we’d persuaded her to go home. And with the baby dying in the next cot she’s hyper-vigilant now,’ Heath explained. ‘It’s common with mothers in her situation, but sadly tonight has done nothing to help with that.’

‘What can I do?’ Ben asked.

‘It’s not simply an overnight thing,’ Heath said, standing up and shaking Ben’s hand before heading back out to the unit. ‘She needs regular support, needs to be encouraged to take a break every now and then—once Willow’s better, of course.’

Which meant getting further involved with mother and
child—which Ben definitely didn’t want to do. So instead he offered her more practicality as he said goodnight to Celeste. ‘Give me your keys. I’ll sort out the car for you.’

‘I’ll sort it out myself tomorrow,’ she said.

‘Celeste.’ He wasn’t arguing or debating the point. ‘You
need
your car to work, for Willow’s sake. So give me your keys, and if it’s the battery I’ll charge it or get a new one, and if it’s something else…’ He saw her eyes close in utter despair, as the water rose ever higher. He wanted to pull her out, to wrench her from the rising tide, except he was so very scared to.

Scared to love her.

Except somehow he already did.

Only the problem wasn’t Celeste.

It was Willow.

H
E WAS
up at six, on a rare day off. He had boxes to unpack and a kitchen to paint, but instead he wandered down the road, Celeste’s car keys in hand. He’d have a look at the car, have a run on the beach and then he’d sort out the boxes. Ben opened the garage and after turning the key in the ignition the car grumbled into noisy life—so it wasn’t the battery.

At eight he called the mobile mechanic.

‘Do you want my advice?’ The mechanic stared at what could loosely be called an engine and frowned heavily.

‘No.’ Ben gave a grimace. ‘Just fix it, get it roadworthy, please.’

‘The tyres are bald…’

‘Get decent second-hand ones,’ Ben said, because against that pile of scrap, four gleaming new ones would stand out far too much.

It took the whole day, but by six he was dropping her keys back at the hospital for her.

‘How’s Willow doing?’ he asked her.

‘A bit better, thanks.’ Celeste looked completely wiped out. Her hair needed washing and there were
huge charcoal smudges beneath her eyes, as if she’d been wearing black eyeliner and rubbed them, except she hadn’t worn make-up for weeks. ‘The first of her blood cultures should be back soon, but she hasn’t had a temperature since lunchtime.’

‘What about her blood gases?’ he queried.

‘They’re better.’ She shook her head in confusion. She wasn’t thinking as a nurse but as a mum, listening to the doctors and the special care staff. ‘She’s to stay on oxygen…’

He wanted more information, wanted to speak with the neonatologist, to see the baby’s X-rays and blood results for himself.

‘I got to hold her,’ she told him tremulously.

His demands had no place here, so instead he smiled. ‘That’s good news.’

‘Mum’s in with her now.’

All he could do was take her to the canteen and buy her a hot chocolate and some cereal from the machine, and only when he handed her the car keys did Celeste remember what he was doing here. He wasn’t actually here to find out about Willow at all.

‘What was wrong with it?’ she wanted to know.

‘It needed a new battery.’ And a starter motor and brake discs and pads and muffler and…But he chose not to elaborate any further.

‘How much was it? There’s a cash machine here,’ she said.

‘It wasn’t much. We’ll sort it out when Willow’s better,’ Ben said easily. With a baby that sick, Celeste needed a car that started first time every time, Ben told himself. And
he was saving his sanity too, he decided. At least he wouldn’t be getting woken up at two a.m. any more…

Except he actually hadn’t minded.

If the truth be known, he would have hated to have found out from someone else the next day what had happened.

He’d hardly slept in twenty-four hours but, despite that fact, his mind suddenly seemed clear.

Celeste needed a friend—a real one—and maybe he could be that for while, maybe he could be there for her, at least till Willow came home.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Ben said. ‘Once Willow’s better, how about a day out?’

‘Where?’ she asked.

‘On the water,’ Ben suggested, but she immediately shook her head.

‘What if something happened? It would take too long to get here,’ she protested anxiously.

‘We’re not crossing the equator, just taking a ride out on the bay! We could have lunch.’

‘I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.’ She shook her head.

‘Don’t say no,’ Ben said. ‘Just think about it.’

She didn’t think about it.

There was way too much else to think about.

As Willow got over what had turned out to be a nasty bout of pneumonia and started to regularly put on weight, discharge day started looming. Celeste’s milk supply had finally completely dried up and, regretfully for Celeste, Willow was now taking a bottle, but at least
it did give her a little bit more freedom and meant she could get back to the flat every now and then—or even visit the doctor for herself!

‘Celeste?’

Ben passed her as he was walking through the main entrance corridor. Amidst a hub of people and cafés and a gift shop, there was Celeste, as white as a sheet, and in her own vague world.

‘Celeste…’ He tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. ‘Is everything okay?’

She visibly made an effort to concentrate. ‘Fine,’ she finally answered.

‘Willow?’

‘She’s good,’ Celeste said without the usual elaboration of the past few weeks. Normally she gushed over every milestone, and Ben saw her lick dry lips.

‘You?’

‘I’m bit queasy,’ she admitted. ‘I was going to get a drink but there’s a huge queue.’

‘Go and sit down, I’ll get you one.’ That she didn’t argue told Ben she really wasn’t feeling well.

Of course there was a queue at the café, but he could be arrogant enough at times and he ignored it, going straight to the front and getting two bottles of water and a bottle of juice—oh, and a muffin.

‘Here.’ He put his wares on the table and Celeste took a long drink of water.

‘How did you get served so quickly? I’d given up.’

‘Perk of the job.’ Ben winked. ‘I got you something to eat…in case you’re hungry.’

Celeste screwed up her nose. ‘How much do I owe
you?’ She scrabbled in her purse for some money, but Ben just shook his head.

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘Add it to my slate!’ Celeste said, and then leant forward, rested her head on her arm for a moment and let everything pass by, the noise, the traffic of a busy hospital, the glare of the windows, everything except Ben’s concerned voice.

‘Should I be taking your pulse or something?’ he teased gently to hide his real worry.

‘No.’

‘You’re not very good company today.’ He lifted her forehead a little, then saw her grey face and put it back down to rest on her forearm.

‘They told me to wait half an hour…’ came her muffled voice. ‘I should have listened.’

‘Should I be sending for a gurney from Emergency?’ he asked lightly.

‘Please don’t!’ Slowly she sat up and gave him a weak smile.

‘Better now?’

‘Better.’ She blew out a breath. ‘That’s twice you’ve saved me from embarrassing myself.’

‘Childbirth is hardly embarrassing,’ he pointed out.

‘In the middle of the road, with a crowd gathered?’

‘Okay.’ He grinned. ‘So it could have been embarrassing—if I hadn’t managed to get you into the relative privacy of what is now my garden! As would fainting outside the hospital gift shop. So what happened to make you feel like this?’

‘I just had my postnatal check.’

‘Oh.’ He was a doctor, so why were his ears going a bit pink? He could walk into the staffroom in Emergency this very minute into a gaggle of nurses who wouldn’t halt their discussion with him in the room.

‘He suggested that I have a coil inserted, in the unlikely event that I want to resume sexual relations over the next five years!’

She
did
make him laugh—even at awkward things.

‘You will want to, eventually,’ he said.

‘I doubt it!’ She took another long drink and then picked at the muffin. ‘It seems like a lot of fuss for nothing, to tell you the truth—well, not nothing,’ she mused. ‘Having had a family fallout, a baby in Special Care…’ She broke off the list of her woes—he wouldn’t be interested in all that, especially when she came to the part about how Willow’s father didn’t want to know her. ‘Anyway, he also suggested that I lie down for half an hour afterwards.’

‘You clearly didn’t listen,’ he said a little sternly.

‘I felt fine.’ Celeste shrugged.

‘Well, listen next time,’ he ordered.

Colour was coming back to her lips now, and to her cheeks. It had been nice to sit and chat but she’d been gone for a while now and wanted to be back to give Willow her bottle.

‘I’d better get up to Special Care…’

She was still a touch pale. ‘Maybe you should wait another ten minutes,’ he suggested.

Which she probably would have, except the pager she wore went off, telling her that Willow was awake and ready to be fed.

‘I should go.’

‘I’ll walk up with you,’ Ben offered, still concerned with her colour.

They walked through the corridors and up to the lift, Ben seeing her right up to the entrance to Special Care, and as they arrived, Celeste was suddenly nervous.

‘Do you want to come in?’ It was, oh, so casually offered. ‘You’ll see a huge difference in her…’

‘I’d love to,’ Ben said, and she could hear the ‘but’ even before it was said, knew it was coming before it was uttered. ‘But I really ought to get back to Emergency. Another time, maybe?’

‘Sure.’ She didn’t get him—just didn’t. He seemed to enjoy her company, was always there when she needed him, and yet sometimes all he wanted to do was get away from her!

‘Hey…’ He turned around. ‘Have you thought about coming out on the boat with me?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Celeste declined. ‘They’re saying that Willow might be ready for discharge next Monday, and I’ve got loads to get ready.’

‘Well, I’m off next weekend,’ Ben said. ‘So the offer’s there…just let me know.’

She was ready.

Well, as ready as she would ever be!

All the new baby clothes had been washed in soap flakes, there were nappies and baby wipes and bottles and formula, the crib that Ben had set up and which Celeste had lined with bunny rugs. All it needed now was Willow—and that was happening tomorrow.

The nurses had practically frogmarched her out of the department, insisting she spend a day at home and strongly suggesting she didn’t come back till morning—that she should grab one last night of uninterrupted sleep while she still could.

Her parents, having helped her set up, had gone home, and with nothing to do, Celeste had decided to walk down the road to get a magazine, with the intention of sitting on the beach to read it. Or rather that was her excuse for walking past Ben’s new house!

It felt strange, being out in the fresh air—strange to be out in the afternoon sunlight instead of in the nursery—but the nurses had given her very little choice in the matter, so she decided to enjoy it.

She was wearing denim shorts and a white halter-neck T-shirt, pre-pregnancy clothes that were actually a bit big for her now. Her feet were wrapped in thin red leather sandals, and it felt nice to have the sun on her legs, nice to walk along the street, though she felt as if she’d forgotten something, kept pulling out her phone to check it in case the hospital had rung and she’d missed it, or kept scrambling in her bag to check she had her keys. It already felt completely weird to be anywhere without Willow.

Still, the world had carried on very nicely without her. Flowers hung heavy on the trees, the bay was blue and still glistening in the background—and there was Ben, with his new boat all hooked up to his four-wheel drive.

‘Very nice.’ Celeste commented, walking around and inspecting
his
new baby. ‘Very nice indeed.’

‘I think I’m in love.’ Ben grinned, running a loving
hand over his new toy, and all Celeste could do was laugh. ‘How’s Willow?’

‘Very well. She looks like a complete fraud—she’s way too healthy to be in hospital.’

‘All ready for tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

‘You’ll be great,’ he said reassuringly.

‘So, are you taking her out?’ She wouldn’t ask to go with him, Celeste decided, but if he happened to offer again…

‘I’ve just got back,’ Ben said. ‘I went out with a friend—I’m still not sure about launching her on my own yet.’

‘Ooh, no!’ Celeste agreed, smiling, but her heart sank a little, realising that she had very literally missed the boat with him. ‘The boat ramp is not the place to practise.’

‘Yeah, I’m still a novice—but it is nice to be out there again. I’d forgotten how good it feels.’

‘There’s another launching ramp by the creek,’ Celeste said, ‘for when you do want to take her out on your own. It’s probably the quietest one and you won’t be holding everyone up.’

‘You’ve done this before, then?’ he asked curiously.

‘All the time,’ Celeste said with a cheeky grin. ‘Well, when Dad and I were talking, I used to go fishing with him.’

‘You?’ Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘Fishing?’

‘No, daydreaming,’ Celeste said. ‘But I’m fishing now…’

It took a second for him to get her meaning and when he did he smiled.

‘Let’s go, then.’

It was the perfect evening to try out a new boat—the bay was calm, with barely a breeze. For a novice, he did a pretty decent job of reversing the boat and trailer down the ramp, then jumped out and dealt with the boat as Celeste took the driver’s seat, just as she had when she had been out with her dad. Having parked his four-wheel drive, she then walked down to the water, Ben holding her hand as she stepped in. His new engine purred into life and she was so glad she had said yes, so glad, as Ben weaved the boat, to feel the wind in her hair and to just breathe again after these last few weeks.

Ben watched as slowly, slowly she unwound.

The weight had fallen off her since Willow’s birth, and seeing her slender frame emerging he’d realised just how ill she’d been, probably since the day he’d met her. Too much time in the hospital, both as a patient and visiting Willow, had given her that pale, unhealthy colour. Still, the sea air was bringing back some much-needed warmth to her cheeks and when she didn’t check her phone for a full ten minutes, Ben knew that finally, even if it was just for a little while, the Celeste of old was back.

They stopped and idled and Ben set out the food they had grabbed on a quick stop at the deli. In the distance, Melbourne glittered gold in the setting sun. Willow was coming home tomorrow and all was surely right in the world—even if it felt otherwise at times.

‘Scared about tomorrow?’ Ben asked.

‘Scared but ready,’ Celeste admitted.

‘You’re going to be a great mum,’ Ben said.

‘I’d better be…’ Celeste smiled. ‘She’ll be home in a matter of hours.’

He unpacked tarragon chicken in mayonnaise, which tasted as good as they first time they’d shared it, washed down with sparkling mineral water. For Celeste it was bliss to just pause, to escape before life changed yet again tomorrow.