Twenty minutes later, I staggered into the house to find Ellis sitting at the kitchen table, Toby hovering around her like a nervous chicken.
‘Ellis, hi.’ I crouched down beside her, scanning her skinny frame while still catching my breath. ‘Tell me what’s happening.’
‘I made a mess on your floor.’ She half laughed, half grimaced.
Her posture and tone of voice were my best clue as to whether things were progressing. When Nicky arrived a few seconds later, having fetched her GP bag from the car, she caught my eye with a nod of relief. There wasn’t about to be a baby born on my floor this morning.
‘Welcome to the club. I think that makes about a dozen of you so far. Did Toby clean it up?’
‘He did,’ she said, straggly eyebrows shooting up. ‘Only gagged once, too.’
‘Do you want a drink?’
‘More water would be good.’
I stepped back to allow Nicky to ask Ellis the necessary questions while using her eyes and ears to also assess the situation. As I made tea for Nicky and me, water and a plate of toast for Ellis and shooed Toby off to check on Hazel, I glanced over, making a non-medical professional assessment of my own. Ellis looked exactly as she had when I’d last seen her. Only, if possible, even more vulnerable. Far more scared. She wore an old robe that Toby must have found in the bathroom, and her complexion was stark against the peach terry towelling.
‘Ooh, is that one now?’ I heard Nicky ask, in the doctor’s voice she used that always made me think of hot chocolate and soft blankets.
Ellis nodded vigorously, eyes shut, jaw clenched tight. I counted fifteen seconds until she sagged against the back of the chair again. Still plenty of time.
‘When did you last see the midwife?’ Nicky continued.
‘I dunno. A few weeks ago.’
‘Right. I think that, given the situation, it would be a good idea to get you and baby looked over properly in the hospital.’
Ellis jerked her head up. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I’m not going to the hospital. He’s waiting for me there.’
‘Who is?’ Nicky asked.
Ellis turned her face away with a scowl.
‘Damon?’ I asked, bringing her water and the toast over.
A sharp nod.
‘We can go to a different hospital,’ Nicky said. ‘I can call the Nottingham labour suites, see who has room.’
‘No.’
‘Ellis, it would be a really good idea to get your baby checked out.’
‘Then do it here!’ she cried. ‘You’re a doctor, aren’t you? If I could go to the hospital then I wouldn’t be here, would I?’
I sat on the chair next to hers, shuffling it close enough to gently cradle her hand. ‘Have you taken something?’ I asked, softly.
A few furious blinks, then Ellis crumpled onto my shoulder. ‘I didn’t want to. He made me. I told him it wasn’t safe for the baby, I wasn’t doing it any more, but he said it wasn’t my choice. I’m his woman and he’s paying for everything, so I show him respect. Then he did this.’
She gestured feebly with her chin. After asking permission, Nicky opened the front of the dressing gown, and I was thankful for her doctor’s detachment as she carefully inspected the bruise across Ellis’s chest.
‘If I go to hospital, they’ll take my baby.’ She gasped.
Nicky began to protest, but Ellis wasn’t listening.
