Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3) 42
Somehow we cram everything into the taxi. A canoe paddle falls out as we close the door, but I don’t bother trying to get it. I mean, it’s not like Suze is having a water birth.
“Tarkie’s business manager is trying to reach him,” says Suze as we zoom along the King’s Road. “But even if he gets on a plane straight away, he’s going to miss it.”
“He might not!” I say encouragingly. “You never know!”
“He will.” To my dismay I can hear her voice starting to wobble. “He’ll miss the birth of his first child. After waiting all this time. And doing the classes, and everything. He was really good at panting. The teacher made him do it in front of everyone else, he was so good.”
“Oh, Suze.” I feel like crying. “Maybe you’ll take hours and hours, and he’ll still make it.”
“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” She suddenly turns in her seat. “You won’t leave me there?”
“Of course not!” I say, appalled. “I’ll stay with you all the time, Suze.” I hold both her hands tight. “We’ll do it together.”
“Do you know anything at all about giving birth?”
“Erm… yes,” I lie. “Loads!”
“Like what?”
“Like… um… you need hot towels… and…” Suddenly I spot a baby milk carton poking out of one of the bags. “… and many babies require a vitamin K injection after the birth.”
Suze stares at me, impressed. “Wow. How did you know that?”
“I just know stuff,” I say, pushing the carton out of sight with my foot. “You see? It’ll be fine!”
OK, I can do this. I can help Suze. I just have to stay cool and calm and not panic.
I mean, millions of people give birth every day, don’t they? It’s probably one of those things that sounds really scary but is quite easy when it comes to it. Like a driving test.
“Oh God.” Suze’s face suddenly contorts. “Here it comes again.”
“OK! Hang on!” In a flurry of alarm I scrabble inside one of the plastic bags. “Here you are!”
Suze opens her eyes dazedly as I produce a smart cellophaned box. “Bex — why are you giving me perfume?”
“They said get jasmine oil to help ease the pain,” I say breathlessly. “But I couldn’t find any, so I got Romance by Ralph Lauren instead. It’s got jasmine overtones.” I rip off the packaging and squirt it at her hopefully. “Does that help?”
“Not really,” says Suze. “But it’s a nice smell.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I say, pleased. “And because I spent over thirty quid, I got a free beauty bag with exfoliating body mitt and—”
“St. Christopher’s Hospital,” says the driver suddenly, drawing up in front of a large redbrick building. We both stiffen in alarm and look at each other.
“OK,” I say. “Keep calm, Suze. Don’t panic. Just… wait there.”
I open the taxi door, sprint through an entrance marked “Maternity,” and find myself in a reception area with blue upholstered chairs. A couple of women in dressing gowns look up from the magazines they’re reading, but other than that, there are no signs of life.
For God’s sake. Where is everybody?
“My friend’s having a baby!” I yell. “Quick, everyone! Get a stretcher! Get a midwife!”
“Are you all right?” says a woman in white uniform, appearing out of nowhere. “I’m a midwife. What’s the problem?”
“My friend’s in labor! She needs help immediately!”
“Where is she?”
“I’m here,” says Suze, struggling in through the door with three bags under one arm.
“Suze!” I say in horror. “Don’t move. You should be lying down! She needs drugs,” I say to the nurse. “She needs an epidural and general anesthetic and some laughing gas stuff, and… basically, whatever you’ve got…”
“I’m fine,” says Suze. “Really.”
“OK,” says the midwife. “Let’s just get you settled into a room. Then we can examine you and take a few details…”
“I’ll get the rest of the stuff,” I say, and start heading back toward the doors. “Suze, don’t worry, I’ll be back. Go with the midwife and I’ll come and find you…”
“Wait,” says Suze urgently, suddenly turning round. “Wait, Bex!”
“What?”