Rachel Weeping (22 page)

chapter 29

Michelle looked up
as the door to Rachel's room opened and Rachel stepped out into the pouring rain, the cold wind slamming her in the face. She started to shake her head – no, no – and tried to get up but Rachel kept coming towards her. As she looked up at the woman whose life she had broken, tears began to run down her face.

‘Not you!' Michelle cried. ‘Anyone but you.' She turned her head away. ‘Please don't help me,' she begged. ‘Just leave me out here.'

Rachel ignored her. She knelt down next to Michelle and allowed her eyes a couple of seconds to get accustomed to the darkness before trying to assess the situation. Michelle struggled against her, using all the strength she could muster to push her away.

‘Leave me alone!' she shouted, wincing in pain.

Rachel sat back on her heels and waited. When Michelle's fierce resistance gave way to gentle sobbing and she curled up on her side on the brickwork in the driveway and closed her eyes, Rachel leaned forward. She cleared some of the leaves and dirt from the flooded driveway that had caught in Michelle's matted hair.

‘I need to get you inside,' she said. She began trying to lift Michelle.

‘No,' Michelle pleaded. She curled tighter. ‘I deserve this … Rachel, I ...'

Rachel's expression was calm and so were her next words.

‘Nobody does,' she said.

Michelle didn't know how to respond to this kindness, this forgiveness, but found she didn't have time to dwell on the moment as the next contraction slammed her back to reality. She let out a sharp cry.

Rachel manoeuvred her arm beneath Michelle's shoulders and got her to a half-sitting position. ‘You have to move,' she said. ‘Come. I will help you.'

‘I can't,' Michelle panted. ‘I ... can't ... move …'

Rachel lowered her back onto the driveway on her back and stood up, considering the options. She looked around. She could feel Michelle's panic-stricken eyes on her.

‘I can feel the baby coming,' Michelle said.

‘I'm going to fetch some blankets from my room,' Rachel said.

She ran back to her room and returned with the blue blanket from her bed and her two pillows. She also had a clean spare towel from her bathroom. She folded the blanket quickly and laid it on the ground. As she tried to roll Michelle onto it, so that it was around her pelvis, another flash of lightning streaked across the sky. Michelle saw Rachel flinch and duck down in fear but she was powerless to prevent a loud moan at that moment. The baby was definitely coming.

Rachel knelt down in front of Michelle, pulling her pants off so that she could see how far along the baby was.

‘I need you to lie back against the pillows – they're right behind your head – and get ready to push,' Rachel said.

‘I can't do this, not in the
driveway
,' Michelle cried out, some of her old fire returning.

‘I need you to stay focused. The baby is almost here.'

‘And
I
need to get to the hospital,' Michelle retorted.

‘It's too late for the hospital,' Rachel said firmly. ‘Trust me, you'll be fine.'

‘How do you know?'

‘I just do,' Rachel replied, her tone inviting no argument. ‘I'm a nurse.'

Michelle looked up at her, confused. The information was new yet it was comforting. She let out another groan as she responded to the pain, exhaling in short, sharp breaths as she tried to activate the breathing technique she had been taught in the antenatal classes, which suddenly seemed completely inadequate.

‘That's right,' Rachel encouraged her. ‘We need to take this slowly. It's very important for you and the baby that we don't rush this. Don't push until I tell you to – even though you are going to want to.'

Michelle let out a cry and Rachel watched as she turned her face to the sky, closing her eyes, and allowing the rain to fall down on her. Even in the darkness she could see she was very pale, but she didn't need Michelle to see her anxiety.

‘You won't have any anaesthetic or expensive equipment to help, but I promise you that your baby will be okay if you do what I say,' she said. ‘Only push when I tell you to. Do you hear me?'

Michelle started to cry again, but she managed to nod her head.

Rachel rolled up her sleeves and leaned forward.

‘Slowly now,' she said. She had her hands on Michelle's thighs.

Michelle shook her head and grabbed Rachel by the arm, trying to force her to look up into her desperate eyes.

‘Rachel – '

‘Focus on your child.' Rachel did not look at Michelle. ‘Don't push yet.'

‘I can't help it!'

‘If you're talking, you're not going to be ready to push.'

Michelle grimaced in pain but tried to obey Rachel's instructions, even though the pain seemed to be growing with each second that passed and she felt like she was going to black out any minute.

Rachel could see that Michelle had taken in what she had said and was resisting the urge to push.

‘The baby is ready,' she said. ‘I want you to push on the next contraction.'

Michelle gritted her teeth and waited for the wave of pain before she pushed down. The baby's head slid through the birth canal into Rachel's ready hands.

‘You're doing well,' Rachel said, supporting the delicate head. ‘Take another breath and push again.'

Michelle obeyed, her effort resulting in the baby's shoulders appearing. One more groan pushed the new life into Rachel's hands and Michelle lay back, utterly exhausted. The rain continued to bucket down, washing away the blood and mucus that covered the baby's tiny body. Rachel held the baby up so that Michelle could see it, taking care not to pull too hard on the umbilical cord.

And then the night air was filled with a shrill cry, another one, the sound of new life calling out to let the world know that it existed, and Michelle and Rachel exhaled in simultaneous relief. Their eyes met briefly.

Michelle watched as a smile broke out across Rachel's wet face. Rahel reached for one of the towels that she had brought out with her. Michelle saw how tenderly she wrapped the baby in the towel, carefully avoiding the cord that was still attached to her.

‘It's a girl,' Rachel said. ‘You have a daughter.'

Rachel positioned the crying baby in Michelle's arms and sat back on her heels. Michelle tried to take this miracle in, and in the instant they touched each other, she knew without a shadow of doubt that an unshakable love had been created between her and her child.

Rachel placed a hand on her knee to get her attention.

‘I'm going to go to the pay phone to call for an ambulance,' she said. ‘You need to stay awake and hold onto her until I get back.'

 

 

 

Rachel used her house keys to open the side gate. Running through the rain, she made her way to the pay phone and dialled the emergency services. After giving them all the information they needed to know, she started walking back. She realised that she was exhausted, too, and suddenly extremely cold. The walking was slow going. There were almost no cars on the road at this time of night and in such a bad storm, but finally it seemed that the rain was easing up a little. In the silence, in the distance, she could hear the wail of a siren and a few minutes later an ambulance came speeding past her. She had left the side gate open for them and, as she turned the corner and approached the Jordaans' property, she saw the flashing red lights up ahead. She felt a tightening in her chest but she walked on at the same steady pace.

The paramedics were already attending to Michelle and the baby by the time she reached the driveway. She stood holding the gate open. Within minutes they had Michelle on a stretcher. As they wheeled her through Michelle looked up at Rachel, her eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Rachel acknowledged and returned the look. Only they knew what they had experienced together and no words right now, or ever probably, could adequately describe it.

Rachel waited for the ambulance to leave. Then she closed and locked the side gate and, using Michelle's keys, she entered the dark house and made her way through to the kitchen, almost tripping over Hugo, who was at her ankles, whining pitifully. Soothing the frightened dog with her voice, she went straight to the cupboard where the mains were and flipped through the switches, but the power was still out from the storm. She opened the cupboard beneath the sink and took out some plain white candles, two candle holders and a box of matches. She stuck the candles in the holders and lit them, cupping the flames with her hands as she carried them one by one over to the big wooden table. They suffused the room with a beautiful soft light.

Looking around the kitchen, Rachel saw that Hugo was back in his basket, his nose tucked between his paws. She refilled his water bowl and made sure that there were pellets in his food bowl. Then she walked over to the sink and turned on the tap, testing the flow with her fingers to make sure there was still some hot water. As she let it run over the dirty dishes, she reached under the basin for the dishwashing liquid.

When she was done with the dishes Rachel moved on to the rest of the house, taking the candles with her into each room, restoring order to the place in the way she knew best. She knew that her time with the Jordaans was over, that there were some things that just couldn't be undone. She and Michelle would never share a meal or live together again and there was no use pretending that they might. But she would leave them with dignity. She could do that now.

 

 

 

Chris ran down the corridor of the Sandton Mediclinic, following the directions the receptionist had given him. It had been just after three in the morning when he'd received the call from the hospital and somehow he had managed to secure a seat on a flight to Johannesburg that left King Shaka Airport at 06:30.

Dr Pieterse was waiting for him in the reception area. She told him she didn't know the full story, but it seemed that Michelle had gone into labour prematurely in the middle of the previous night's electrical storm, which had blown the power and left her unable to telephone for assistance herself. Someone who lived on the property – a nurse, was it? Michelle had been exhausted and apparently slightly delirious too – had safely delivered the baby. They were both absolutely fine, she reassured Chris, but she wanted to keep them in for a few nights just to be sure. The baby was a couple of weeks premature and might also have a touch of jaundice so they were treating it in the neonatal high care unit.

All the drama aside, she said, Chris and Michelle were the proud parents of a baby girl.

A girl!

Despite his anxiety, as he ran down the corridor Chris couldn't hide his smile.

He slowed to a fast walk, checking the numbers on the rooms until he reached room 215. He stopped to catch his breath, then quietly opened the door. The curtains around Michelle's bed were drawn and he peeped inside. Michelle was asleep. Dr Pieterse had suggested he not wake her if she was. He stood with his arms at his sides watching her lying there, and in that moment he felt an overwhelming surge of love for his wife. He realised he couldn't bear the thought of her being in any kind of pain or distress. The animosity and tension that had separated them for the last few months didn't seem important any more. Mostly what Chris felt at that precise moment was profoundly grateful that he would have a chance to love Michelle and keep loving her.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned. It was a nurse. She smiled at him and put her hand on his shoulder.

‘Dr Pieterse asked me to take you to the neonatal unit,' she said. ‘Are you ready to see your baby?'

The rhythmic hum of machines and other complicated-looking equipment that powered the incubators was what Chris noticed first. Nurses moved around quietly and several of the babies in the incubators had one or two people standing or sitting beside them. At the far end of the sterile room was an incubator which looked unattended.

The nurse led him towards it and then she stood back and allowed Chris to approach the glass-covered incubator on his own. Inside a tiny baby lay on its back – his daughter. Her little head was covered with a dusting of fine, blonde hair and her eyes were tightly closed. Chris watched the small chest rise and fall, her breathing fast and shallow, and tried to take all of her in. His eyes moist with emotion, he looked around to see if any of the other parents were as enamoured with their newborns as he was.

It would seem that they were.

He returned his attention to his daughter. The pink hospital band tied around her small foot hung loosely and he peered at the writing on it: ‘Jordaan'.

Something like relief, only a much bigger emotion he had no name for, filled his heart. It was as if for months he and Michelle had been held captive, with a yoke around their necks, but now, suddenly, in some imperfect way the yoke had been broken.

Having been assured by the nurse that Michelle would be unlikely to wake until the afternoon, Chris went home to let Hugo out and to make sure that their house was still in one piece after the previous night's storm.

Michelle's Audi was halfway up the driveway. He looked through the window at the ignition but the keys weren't in it and the car was locked. Walking through the front door, he was surprised to find that everything was in perfect order. In the kitchen the dishes were stacked in the drying rack. Michelle's car keys were on the wooden table beside a blob of melted white wax. He looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen; it was a little after nine. Clean, washed clothes, freshly ironed, were in two neat piles on the counter. Hugo greeted him with great enthusiasm, furiously wagging his tail and giving little barks of delight. There was food in his bowl, and a full bowl of clean water.

Rachel. Of course.

Chris went back to the front door and opened it. He began to walk up to Rachel's room, trying to put together and process what must have happened the previous evening. Could Rachel have been the ‘nurse'?