Free The Secrets of Midwives by Sally Hepworth Page A

somehow that was too far.
    As I waited for the elevator, I leaned against the wall. At the far end of the corridor, Patrick held court with three student nurses, who were taking notes and giggling at intervals. Although Patrick was professional enough never to cross the line with a student, it was easy to see he loved the attention. Marion stood at the nurses’ desk, whispering furiously and stealing glances over her shoulder. I’d have assumed she was gossiping about my pregnancy, but thanks to Sean’s reprimand in theater, there was an equal chance she was slandering him. I couldn’t help but be grateful.
    I sighed and allowed my eyes what I called an extra-long blink.
    â€œShould I be hurt?”
    When I opened my eyes, Sean stood before me in blue scrubs, blue cap, and puffy blue shoe covers. My first instinct was to run. To locate the nearest exit and hurtle toward it as fast as my legs would carry me. But even if I had the energy to do that, it wouldn’t help me for long. “No. You should be relieved.”
    â€œWere you planning to tell me?”
    â€œActually, I was waiting for you to guess. For someone who is usually quite perceptive, and an ob-gyn, I’d have thought—”
    â€œNeva.”
    His tone made me pause. “Yes?”
    â€œAre you sure you have your dates right?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIs that all you’re going to say? Yes?”
    I was about to say that if the answer to his questions continued to be yes, then yes, that’s all I was going to say, but before I could respond, he towed me into a corner. “Are you sure ? Because if you’re just a few weeks out—”
    I stopped him before he could say the words. “It’s okay. I’m sure.”
    I rested a hand on his chest, partly to calm him, partly to regain some personal space. Finally he sagged like a day-old balloon. “God, Neva. I don’t know what I’d do if … well, I’m just glad it’s not.”
    I let Sean bask in the relief. I only wished I could have shared his joy. “Me, too.”
    â€œSo?” he said. “Whose is it?”
    â€œIt’s mine.”
    â€œI realize that.” A look of bafflement appeared on his face, followed by a short laugh. “And who else’s?”
    I was already so sick of saying it, and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d made the announcement. I longed for a stack of flyers of FAQs that I could hand out. This should answer most of your questions, I’d tell people as I pressed a flyer into their hand. And there is an e-mail address at the bottom if any of your questions remain unanswered. It is [email protected]. Alas, I had no printed flyers.
    â€œNo one’s. Just mine.”
    He cocked an eyebrow. I sighed.
    â€œThe father’s not going to be involved, okay?”
    Sean took a minute to digest that. “I see. Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
    He did look sorry. He started that awkward, mumbly thing guys did when they were uncomfortable. Which, of course, made me more uncomfortable.
    â€œIf there’s anything I can do—”
    I pointed to the wedding ring, which he wore on a band around his neck during surgery. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
    One of us had to bring Laura up. True to his word, Sean had wound up marrying that Texan cashier from his grocery store. With frizzy, peroxide-blond hair and hips to match her enormous breasts, she was far from classically beautiful, but she had a pretty, friendly face and a sweet disposition. The kind of woman who, after three years of being married to an ob-gyn, still got choked up when he told her about delivering a baby. Not the kind of woman you felt good about betraying.
    â€œProbably not.”
    â€œHow is Laura?”
    â€œFine,” he said. “Thanks for asking.”
    â€œTumor’s still shrinking?”
    He nodded. “Now