Saving Maddie's Baby Page 9

  Their team had bags designed for the purpose, tough and slippery. While the team from Cairns started their work aboveground the bags started their cautious way back and forth.

  The first bag they tried contained tougher cable. The important thing was not to break the link. Then, with both cords set up as slippery cable rather than nylon, Keanu started sending in supplies.

  First came fluids—not much on the first pull, as they didn’t want to risk anything getting stuck. But Keanu also risked sending in wipes and a blanket in which to wrap the baby.

  Also a diaper.

  There was also a card, very makeshift, written on the back of a mine safety notice.

  A big welcome to Baby Haddon, the card said. From all of us on the surface. But isn’t the stork supposed to go down chimneys, not mine shafts?

  He read it to Maddie and it made her smile. Or smile more.

  ‘That’ll be Hettie,’ she said, sounding a bit choked up. ‘She’s such a friend. I have so many good friends here.’

  She had a whole life he knew nothing about, Josh realised as he retied the empty bag to the cord and sent a text for the guys out there to pull.

  Then they went back to the waiting game while Keanu organised more stuff to come in.

  Malu had finally let the effects of the painkillers take hold and was deeply asleep. Bugsy was also dozing, pressed close to his mistress. The baby had taken her first tentative suckle and drifted to sleep, as well.

  Josh flicked the torch off and moved again to sit behind Maddie. She tried to object. ‘I don’t mind hard...’ but he was having none of it. He was her pillow and they were alone in their cocoon of darkness.

  It felt right. He was meant to hold her, he thought. His body thought so.

  Danger or not, cradling this woman felt wonderful.

  ‘So when did you decide to have a baby?’ he asked into the silence, though he had no right to ask such a question and she had every right to refuse to answer.

  Silence.

  ‘Sleep if you want,’ he murmured, letting her off the hook, but he felt rather than saw her shake her head.

  ‘I don’t feel like sleep yet. I know this is an appalling situation but all I can feel is happy. If you knew how much I wanted this...’

  ‘I guess...I did know.’

  ‘But you didn’t want it.’

  And there was a game-changer. The peace dissipated from the darkness and he let her accusation drift. Had he wanted this? A wife? A baby?

  Not enough to take risks. Not enough to risk the pain he’d felt last time.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘That was uncalled for. It’s okay, Josh, I’m not about to dredge up the past. The truth is that I reached thirty-four last birthday and I thought if I don’t do something soon I’ll end up without a family. I know that sounds selfish but there it is. I wanted it so much.’

  ‘Not enough to remarry?’ He tried to say it lightly—and failed.

  ‘I hardly have time for marriage.’ She was trying for lightness, too, he thought. ‘I work here fourteen days straight and then I have a week back in Cairns. I spend most of that time with Mum.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it have been better to get a job in Cairns?’

  ‘Maybe.’ This was none of his business and he could almost hear her thinking it, but she didn’t say it.

  ‘You know, it’s really hard to say goodbye,’ she said at last, hesitatingly, almost as if she was thinking it through as she spoke. ‘The stroke damaged Mum mentally, but she still knows me and she still loves me visiting. But if I only have an hour, she clings and sobs when I leave. If I use a whole day, though... I take her out for walks, I give her meals and I read to her. Finally she goes to sleep happy. The nurses say the next day, when I’m not there, she’s peaceful, not distressed. So if I worked in Cairns, I couldn’t just pop in and out. It’d be too upsetting for all of us. But this way there are hardly any goodbyes. It’s a private nursing home. It costs a bomb but fly in, fly out doctors get paid a bomb. This is the only way I can keep her there, and it works.’

  ‘I told you I’d help!’ It was an exclamation of anger, reverberating round the tunnel, and he felt rather than saw her wince.

  ‘I told you, Josh. I’m done needing you.’

  ‘You needed me today.’

  ‘I did,’ she said, and shifted a little and cradled her daughter just a wee bit tighter. ‘And I’m so grateful.’

  ‘So why won’t you let me do more?’

  ‘We’ve had this out,’ she said, wearily now, and he flinched. The last thing he wanted was to make her tired.

  ‘I’m sorry. We can talk about this later.’

  ‘No, we can’t. I shouldn’t have kissed you.’

  ‘You still...love me.’ Why had he said it? But it wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact, and he waited for her to refute it.

  She didn’t. She was his woman, and he was cradling her with every ounce of love and protection he was capable of.

  ‘Yes, Josh, I still love you,’ she said at last, even more wearily. ‘And I’m guessing... You’re thinking you still love me.’

  ‘I always have.’

  ‘Within limits.’

  ‘Maddie...’

  ‘But loving’s not for limits,’ she whispered into the darkness, as if she was suddenly sure she was right. ‘Look at my beautiful Lea.’

  ‘Lea?’

  ‘After a friend, here on the islands. And Lea Grace for my mum. I can’t wait to show her to Mum. I know Mum’s damaged but you know what? She’ll think the sun rises and sets from her granddaughter. Unconditional love. That’s what I’ll give my Lea, from now until eternity.’

  ‘I would have loved you...’

  ‘If I let you. You said that. But your love had conditions.’

  ‘It didn’t.’

  ‘It did,’ she said, steadily and surely. ‘As long as love is one-directional it’s fine by you. You’re allowed to love me all you want. But me...’

  ‘Maddie...’

  ‘No, let me say it,’ she whispered. It was weird, sitting in this appalling place, locked in by total blackness. By rights they should still be terrified, but Lea’s birth had changed things. This seemed a place of peace. Even Malu’s breathing had settled, reassuring them all.

  ‘Josh, when Mikey died it broke your heart.’ She said it steadily into the stillness. ‘I know it did, but you couldn’t show it. You couldn’t take comfort.’

  ‘I didn’t need to.’

  ‘Yes, you did,’ she said, still surely. ‘But you were afraid if you showed it you’d break. You comforted me but when I cried you couldn’t cry with me. You were my rock but I didn’t need a rock. Mikey had two parents. Only one was allowed to grieve.’

  ‘Maddie...’

  ‘And then when Holly died it was worse,’ she whispered. ‘Because you were the one who was grief-stricken, but how could you let it out? How could you share? I could see the war you were waging but there wasn’t a thing I could do to help. You have this armour, and it’s so strong there’s no way I can get through. And I can’t live with armour, Josh. Just...loving...isn’t enough.’

  He didn’t answer. Guilty as charged, he thought, but what could he do about it?

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said, steadily now, and he wondered how she could sound so strong after what she’d been through. But she was strong, his Maddie.

  His Maddie?

  She wasn’t his Maddie. They’d decided to end their marriage for the most logical of reasons and those reasons still stood.

  His arms were around her. She was cradling her tiny new daughter and he knew if anything happened to either of them his heart would break.

  But he couldn’t share. That way... To open himself to such pain, to let the world see him exposed. />
  Maddie called it armour and maybe it was.

  And, yes, he still needed it.

  Out there be dragons.

  She was right. He did have armour, and without it he had no weapon fierce enough to face them.

  His phone rang. Thank you, he said silently as he answered. Thinking was doing his head in. Thinking while holding Maddie was doing his head in.

  Keanu.

  ‘Another bag coming in,’ Keanu told him. ‘This one has air mattresses and a pump. It’s safer if we pull in tandem.’

  Which meant moving away from Maddie. She’d heard what Keanu had said and was already shifting slightly so he could move.

  He hated leaving her.

  But air mattresses... To lie on air rather than solid rock... It was imperative for both Malu and for Maddie.

  ‘I’ll miss my Josh cushion,’ Maddie said, and he knew she’d said it lightly. But to Josh, right then, it didn’t sound light at all.

  * * *

  Air mattresses. Dust masks. Food packs and drinks.

  All the essentials to let them live.

  And then Malu decided he might not.

  He’d seemed okay. Josh had even let him use the phone to talk to Pearl. Pearl’s terror had resounded through the shaft—there was no room for privacy here—but after a couple of moments the calm, gruff voice of her miner husband seemed to have settled the worst of her fears.

  ‘We’re looking after him,’ Josh had told Pearl before they’d disconnected. ‘He has two doctors dancing attendance every moment. He wouldn’t get that sort of attention in the best city hospital.’

  ‘Oh, but you have a baby.’ Pearl was so weepy.

  He had a baby? Not so much.

  ‘Maddie has a daughter, yes,’ he told her, and he couldn’t help himself, he had to flick on his torch and let light fall on the woman holding her tiny bundle. No woman could look more contented.

  You have a baby? No. This was Maddie’s baby. They were separate.

  Because he was afraid?

  This was hardly the time to think about that. ‘Are you telling me Dr Maddie can’t cope with a newborn and any medical emergency that could possibly arise?’ he demanded of Pearl. ‘She’s a superwoman, your Doc Maddie.’

  And there it was again. Your Doc Maddie.

  Not his.

  ‘I...I know she is.’ Pearl faltered.

  ‘But we don’t need her,’ Josh said firmly. ‘Malu’s recovering. He’ll emerge battered and bruised—we all will. But for now we have air beds, we have plenty of supplies, we have a new baby to admire and we seem safe. Pearl, we’re okay.’

  Except they weren’t.

  How late was it—or how early—when Malu’s breathing changed?

  Josh must have dozed but Maddie touched him and he was wide awake in an instant.

  ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Listen to Malu.’

  She would never have woken him if there wasn’t a worry. Maddie was a seriously good doctor. He flicked on the torch and was at Malu’s side in an instant.

  And he heard what Maddie was hearing.

  He’d checked Malu before he’d allowed himself to sleep and Malu had been breathing deeply and evenly. The morphine was effective. He had an air mattress and pillow, and a light mask to keep the dust at bay.

  Josh had checked him thoroughly, knowing the bruises and pain from his chest signified probable fractured ribs. There had, however, been no sign of internal problems.

  There were problems now. Malu’s breathing was fast and shallow. He was staring up at the roof, his eyes wide and fearful. As Josh’s torch flicked on, he turned and gazed at Josh in terror.

  ‘I can’t... I can’t...’

  Pneumothorax? Haemothorax? The words crashed into Josh’s mind with a sickening jolt.

  His mind was racing through causes. Probable broken ribs... The ribs had caused no problems until now, but maybe in his relaxed state, with the morphine taking hold and giving Malu’s body a false sense of security, the big man had shifted in his sleep.

  And a fractured rib had shifted. If indeed the lung was punctured, every time Malu breathed, a little air would escape into the chest wall. And then a little more, and a little more...

  There was no open wound. The air couldn’t escape. The pressure would finally collapse first one lung and then the other.

  Was he right? Almost before he’d thought it, he had Maddie’s stethoscope in his ears, listening at the midaxillary line. Normally he’d listen at the back as well, but there was no way he was shifting Malu and risking more damage with those ribs.

  Unequal bilateral breath sounds. Diminished on the right.

  Very diminished.

  If Malu had presented in an emergency room with suspected fractured ribs, he would have been X-rayed straight away, but up until now his breathing had been fine. That was all Josh had had to go on.

  ‘What...what’s happening?’ Malu gasped, and Josh took a moment to regroup. He needed to move fast, but panicking Malu would speed his breathing even more.

  ‘I reckon you’ve somehow scraped your lung and made a small tear,’ he told him. ‘It’s not too big or it would have caused problems before this, but if we’re to get you breathing comfortably again we need to do something about it.’

  ‘What...?’

  Behind him Josh sensed Maddie reaching for the phone. They had two doctors, he thought, and the knowledge was reassuring, even if one was only hours post-baby.

  ‘Keanu? We have a slight problem.’ Maddie’s voice was calmly efficient, as if a tension pneumothorax was something she saw twice a day before breakfast. ‘We need a bag in here, with equipment...’

  She knew that they didn’t have the right equipment with them. She’d hauled her bag in when she’d run in. He’d brought in a bit more but now they needed specialist gear.

  Part of his job was road trauma—actually, any kind of trauma. He had what he needed at ground level, in his emergency bag, the gear he’d packed so carefully back in Cairns.

  ‘Let me speak to Keanu,’ he told Maddie, and then he summoned a grin for Malu. ‘Maddie’s better at the bedside manner than I am. Is Lea asleep? Praise be. Our Maddie’s just had the world’s fastest maternity leave, and she’s ready to move on.’ And he held his hand out for the phone.

  And Maddie had it figured, exactly what was needed of her right now. She edged forward—gingerly—who wouldn’t edge gingerly so few hours after birth? Josh dragged his air bed to Malu’s side so she had something soft to settle on.

  ‘Let me tell you what I think’s happening inside you,’ Maddie said to Malu. ‘It’s really interesting. But, hey, I want you to even out your breaths while I talk. Nice and slow, nice and slow. I know it feels like you’re a fish out of water, but we have time not to panic. Do you know what a pneumothorax is?’ And she kept on talking, calm and steady, and Josh thought if he didn’t know better he might even feel calm and steady, as well.

  She was some doctor.

  She was some woman.

  But there wasn’t time for focussing on Maddie. Keanu was on the end of the line, waiting with almost rigidly imposed patience. Maddie had said there was a problem. He’d know better than to demand details until they were ready to give them.

  ‘Malu’s developed a tension pneumothorax or haemothorax,’ he said curtly, while Maddie’s reassuring tones made a divide between Josh and his patient.

  ‘Tension... Hell, Josh, are you sure?’

  ‘Sure. A slight shift must have caused a leak. Unequal bilateral breathing. Subcutaneous emphysema and tenderness, shortness of breath and chest pain. I’m thinking fractured rib is the only answer. Mate, I need gear in here fast. We need oxygen, plus local anaesthetic and equipment to get it into the intercostal space. I need a chest t
ube for drainage.’

  ‘Mate—’

  ‘Yeah,’ Josh said, cutting him off. He knew exactly what Keanu wanted to say—that operating in conditions like this was unthinkable. How to keep a wound clean, a tube clear? ‘But there’s no choice. Send down a flutter valve but I’m thinking this place is too messy to rely on that alone. We’ll use an underwater seal drain. I haven’t used one for years but you’ll find a three-chamber unit at the bottom of my kit. Also more saline. A lot more saline. Start getting it in now, drugs first. We have gloves and basic equipment here to keep things almost sterile.’

  ‘Do you have enough light?’ Keanu still sounded incredulous.

  ‘Our Maddie will hold the torch while I operate. She’s a hero, our Maddie. The lady with the lamp. Florence Nightingale has nothing on our Maddie.’

  And Maddie heard. She turned a little and gave him a lopsided grin.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ she asked Malu. ‘Josh reckons I’m great. Well, I reckon he’s great so that’s settled. We have two great doctors and one patient with a teeny, tiny tear in his middle. Nothing to this, then. Piece of cake.’

  ‘What else do you need?’ Keanu snapped, and Josh could hear the tension in the island doctor’s voice. It was all very well playing the hero in the middle of hands-on action, he thought, but standing helplessly at the minehead, knowing there was nothing you could do to help, would be a thousand times harder.

  But he needed to concentrate on practicalities. Thinking of others’ distress only muddied the waters.

  Focus.

  ‘I need a fourteen-gauge angiocath and at least a four-centimetre needle,’ he told Keanu, hauling himself back from the brink as he always did in a crisis. If there was urgent need, he had to block everything else out. ‘We need anaesthetic, tubing, more antiseptic, more gloves. I need a good clean sheet—when this is done I want Manu and his drainage tube protected from grit. If you can get it in fast, we’re good to go.’