One Tiny Miracle... Read Free

now?’
    ‘Thirty,’ Celeste said, ‘and, as the doctor said, I’m fine.’
    Which didn’t give Meg any room to argue and,anyway, here wasn’t the place to try. Instead she took them through the whiteboard, giving some history on each of the patients in the cubicles and areas. ‘When the observation ward opens, Celeste can go round there…’
    ‘I don’t need to be in Obs,’ Celeste said, guilty that they were giving her the lightest shift, but Meg fixed her with a look.
    ‘I don’t have the resources to work around your pregnancy, Celeste. If your obstetrician says that you’re fine for full duties and you concur, I have to go along with that—I’m just allocating the board.’
    Celeste nodded, but no matter how forcibly Meg said it, Celeste knew she was being looked out for as far as her colleagues could—and for the ten zillionth time since she’d found out she was pregnant she felt guilty.
    Finding out she was pregnant had been bad enough, but the fallout had been spectacular.
    Her family was no longer speaking to her, especially as she had steadfastly refused to name the father, but how could she? Having found out that not only was her boyfriend married but that his wife worked in Admin at the hospital she worked in, even though no one knew, would ever know, guilt and shame had left Celeste with no choice but to hand in her notice. Then, just as it had all looked hopeless, she had found out that she been accepted at the graduate emergency nursing programme at Bay View Hospital, which was on the other side of the city.
    She hadn’t been pregnant at the time of her application and the polite thing to do might have been to defer—perhaps that was what had been expected of her—but with such an uncertain future ahead, a monthlypay cheque was essential in the short term, and, as a clearly single mother, more qualifications wouldn’t go amiss. Also, moving away from home and friends would halt the endless questions.
    It was lonely, though.
    And now her colleagues were having to make concessions—no matter how much they denied that they were.
    ‘Cubicle seven is Matthew Dale, eighteen years old. A minor head injury, he tripped while jogging, no LOC. He should be discharged, Ben’s seeing him now.’
    ‘Ben?’ Celeste checked.
    ‘The new registrar. He started this morning. Here he is now…’ Meg waved him over. ‘What’s happening with cubicle seven, Ben?’
    ‘I’m going to keep him in. Sorry to open up the observation ward so early but…’ His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Celeste, but for whatever reason he chose not to acknowledge her, just carried on giving his orders for the patient. Although she had to offer him no explanation as to her being here, and though there was absolutely no reason to, again, for the ten zillionth and first time, Celeste felt guilty.
    Almost as if she’d been caught.
    Doing what? Celeste scolded herself, as she walked round to the closed-off observation ward, flicked on the lights and then turned back a bed for Matthew.
    She was earning a living—she had to earn a living.
    She had ten weeks of pregnancy to go and the crèche wouldn’t take the baby till it had had all its inoculations, so if she stopped now she wouldn’t be working for almost six months.
    The panic that was permanently just a moment away washed over her.
    How was she going to cope?
    Even working full time it was a struggle to meet the rent. With no help from her family, she was saving for the stroller and cot and had bought some teeny, tiny baby clothes and some nappies, but there was so much more she needed. Then there was her bomb of a car…
    Celeste could actually feel her panic rising as she faced the impossibility of it all and she willed herself to be calm, willed herself to slow her racing mind down. But that was no help either, because the second she stopped panicking all Celeste felt was exhausted.
    Holding the bed sheet in her hand, she actually wanted to climb in, to lie