Free The Country Doctor's Choice by Maggie Bennett Page A

to the Special Care Baby Unit for assessment of his prematurity, and from there transferred to the care of a foster mother by the socialworker under whose care Trish had been for several months. Trish herself was transferred two days later to Women’s Surgical for a battery of kidney tests, prior to possible removal of the non-functioning kidney.
    ‘My God, Shelagh, what a lump that Pendle girl is!’ groaned Paul Sykes over lunch in the doctors’ mess. ‘Overweight, unintelligent and adding to the housing problems by producing a kid that she can’t look after. I ask you, what can be done with creatures like that? There’s something to be said for compulsory sterilisation, and I know you won’t agree with that, but quite frankly it’s my gut reaction.’
    Shelagh was a little chilled by his words, though she knew that there were many who would agree with his argument. She paused before replying.
    ‘In her case there might be no need for sterilisation anyway, Paul. With her serious kidney condition, she’s not likely to become pregnant again, in fact she might not even survive. Let’s just hope that little Donovan finds somebody to love him.’
    ‘God, Shelagh, you make me feel such an ogre,’ he protested. ‘I’m just as concerned as you are for the little chap’s future.’
     
    The dark December days passed by, and Doctor Hammond was presiding at the last antenatal clinic before Christmas.
    ‘Morning, Iris. There’s quite a few here, so we’d better get started. Who’s first?’
    ‘A self referral. Her mother’s with her.’ Iris spoke a little breathlessly. ‘Denise North, the doctor will see you now.’
    ‘Good morning, Denise. I’m Dr Hammond. And – your mother?’
    ‘Yes, I’ve come to support her.’ Fiona waved a finger at the smiling little boy.
    ‘And this fine little fellow is your son?’
    ‘Yes, he’s my grandson. Come here, darling, don’t climb on the couch.’
    ‘And is there a daddy around, Denise?’ Shelagh asked quietly.
    ‘No, and we don’t need one. We’re all devoted to him,’ said Fiona North.
    ‘And have you been referred to a social worker?’
    ‘There’s no need, I’ll take care of my daughter, and see about maternity benefits.’
    Shelagh turned to Iris. ‘Sister, will you take this little chap out for a few minutes, I need to examine his mother.’
    ‘There’s nothing to feel yet, it’s only been a month!’ objected Mrs North. ‘And
I’m
not going to be sent out of the room – my place is with my daughter.’
    ‘Just hop up on to the couch, Denise, and let me feel your tummy.’ Shelagh gently pressed her hand against the pubic bone.
    ‘I think you’re about ten or twelve weeks’ pregnant, my dear.’
    ‘But that’s impossible!’ cried Mrs North. ‘Her lastperiod was in November.’ Shelagh continued to speak to the daughter. ‘I think your last true period would have been around mid-October. Anyway, we’ll take a couple of blood samples today, and see you again after Christmas.’
    ‘What’s the blood test for?’ demanded Mrs North.
    ‘Oh, a whole raft of tests we do on our expectant mums, to check for anaemia and other conditions. A nurse will show you where to go, and make a further appointment. Good morning!’
    She grinned at Iris as they left. ‘I wonder what she’d have said if I’d told her we check them all for VD! What a woman – I can’t help feeling sorry for that poor girl. But Iris, are you all right? You’re as white as a sheet. You’d better sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.’
    But Iris waved her aside. ‘I’m all right, Shelagh, honestly. I’ll call the next one in.’
     
    Christmas Eve brought a clear, cold night, full of twinkling stars,
like silver lamps in a distant shrine
, Jeremy North half remembered from some old carol. His heart beat a little faster as he looked upon his special choir assembled at the west door of the church with their music sheets. Rebecca Coulter was a stately presence