A Taste Of Italy: Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife. Fiona McArthur
a time in her dim past when she’d put her ear to a train track, the early rumbles of an approaching train, the danger, the paralysing fear that screamed to move. ‘Should I in this mood you’re in?’
He stepped in. ‘That is enough answer for me.’
This kiss was different. Harder, decidedly more dominant with her crushed against his chest, and she pulled him against herself more to keep her feet on the ground and show she wasn’t subdued by him. But she was. They leaned into each other, searching out secrets, showing each other hidden facets of their souls rarely exposed like little shafts of moonlight illuminating the areas used to darkness. All the more penetrating because there was no future in it.
When he left her, she leaned her forehead against the closed door with her eyes shut and listened to his car purr away in the darkness.
‘Hit by the train,’ she murmured into the darkness.
The next day as Tammy worked her early shift in the birthing centre she found herself glancing out the windows whenever she heard male voices, and once she saw her father in the distance with Leon, two dark heads together. One that made her smile and one that burned her with the heat of that last hard kiss.
It was strange how Leon and Ben seemed to find a common ground and mutual respect when there was a good fifteen years difference in age. And she trusted Ben’s instincts implicitly so Leon must be ‘good people’.
Her stepmother, Misty, the second of the midwives to move to Lyrebird Lake Birthing Centre, arrived to take over the shift. She joined Tammy on the steps to wave goodbye to this morning’s new family.
‘So Gloria did well.’ They walked inside together and Misty grinned down at the birth register open on the desk. ‘And they finally have a daughter?’
‘In the bath at 10:00 a.m. She came out in three pushes and Gloria’s over the moon with how much better this birth was.’
Misty ran her finger along the page and raised her eyebrows at the baby’s weight. ‘Lovely. And you’re dropping there after work?’
Tammy bulldog-clipped the folder she’d completed. ‘I said around four. Give them all time to have a sleep. I said I’d pick up their Jimmy after school and give him a chance to meet his new sister.’
‘Sounds great.’ Misty glanced at her with an unusual thoroughness and Tammy felt as if her stepmother chose her words carefully. ‘Your father seems very impressed with Gianni’s brother.’
‘I was thinking that this morning.’ Tammy looked back at Misty with a smile. ‘What’re your instincts?’ There was more to the question than seemed on the surface. By ‘instincts’ Tammy meant those intangible nuances Misty was known for. Or even more to the point, had Misty had any of those eerie premonitions she occasionally experienced with startling accuracy?
Tammy didn’t try to understand Misty’s special gift, just accepted it for the reality it was and the fact that Misty had shown on occasion how useful her premonitions could be.
‘There’s something happening but I’ll let you know if I get worried. But I like Leon too. I think despite an illusion of aloofness he’s a man to be sure of in tough times. A man’s man perhaps, but I’ve always thought you hadn’t yet found a man you couldn’t walk over. He could be one of those and I’m looking forward to the tussle with great anticipation.’
Tammy slanted a look at her. ‘Not very motherly of you.’
Misty just smiled. ‘You never wanted me to be your mother, Tam. I’m grateful to be your friend.’
Tammy felt the prickle of tears. Not something she did often and she impulsively hugged Misty. ‘I’m the lucky one.’ She stepped back and straightened. ‘And I’m out of here. Jen’s staying another night until Ken comes home—the truck broke down at Longreach.’
She picked up her bag. ‘Trina’s at home in early labour, and she missed her last two appointments while away in Brisbane, so I’m not sure of her baby’s size. He was a little bigger than expected last time I saw her. She knows I’m concerned. She’s ringing after five so let me know if you need a hand. I’m on call tonight. Have a good shift.’
‘I understand Leon Bonmarito is visiting?’ Misty’s face was bland.
Tammy tilted her head. ‘That was last night.’
‘So it was.’ Misty nodded with a smile. ‘Enjoy your evening.’
SO TAMMY wasn’t surprised when the doorbell rang at nine-thirty that night. Nor was she surprised at the identity of the caller. ‘Come in. I’m guessing Paulo’s asleep.’
‘And Louisa is watching over him. I am learning to trust he is safe again.’ Leon’s strong white teeth flashed in the low light. ‘I would like to take Louisa home to Italy. Perhaps a change of scenery would be good for her. Do you think she’d come?’
‘No.’ Louisa had been housekeeper at the old doctor’s residence, a short-term accommodation house for visiting doctors and nurses for a lot of years. Her husband had established Lyrebird Lake hospital and recently passed away.
‘I’m sure my brother has suggested I stay at the residence and not at the resort because he wants me to fall in love with Louisa’s cooking. And her stories. Has she told you about the myth of the lyrebird?’
Tammy had never been a fan of fairytales. ‘I’ve heard of it. In all my years at the lake I’ve never seen one. Emma has, twice, once with your brother.’ She smiled at how that ended. ‘You’d better watch out.’
He, too, smiled. ‘I think to see a bird will not change my life.’
‘Louisa’s husband used to say the lyrebird heals those in pain.’ She had the feeling Leon could do with a spot of healing but it was none of her business.
She returned to the notion of Leon worrying about Louisa. ‘Louisa spends time with her stepson’s family.’ She couldn’t help but think it strangely endearing that this big, quiet man was concerned for an elderly widow he barely knew. She’d made a mental note to visit Louisa herself in case she needed more company. ‘We won’t let you steal her. We’d all miss her too much.’
She glanced at the clock. ‘If you want a coffee, I’ll offer you one now. I’m on call and I know one of the girls has come in to birth with Misty and there’s another woman due out there.’
‘Please, to the coffee.’ He followed her when she stood and moved into the kitchen and she put her hand up to halt him at the door. He kept coming until his chest touched her fingers, a wicked glint in his eye that warned he didn’t take orders easily either, but then he stopped.
She shifted her fingers quick-smart and tried not to recognise how good the warmth of his solid chest had felt beneath her palm. She needed at least three feet between them for her to breathe. ‘If you can make my den feel small you’ll crowd my kitchen. Just stay there and let me work.’
He lifted one brow but obediently leaned against the doorframe, relaxed but alert, and they were both aware he was capable of swift movement, if he wished.
She breathed out forcefully as she turned away. Thank goodness he’d stopped. The guy was too much of a man to ignore when he was this close and a powerful incentive to get her chore done quickly and move out of here.
Then he said quietly, as if the thought had just occurred to him, ‘If you are called in to work, who is here for your Jack?’ Was that censure in his voice? Disapproval?
It had better not be. Nobody disapproved of her mothering. She flicked him a glance and his face was serious. ‘We have an intercom between the houses and I switch it on for my father to listen in. Jack knows he can call for his grandfather if I’m not around and Dad takes