Chapter 23
‘I’m ringing the air ambulance,’ stated Tara calmly, reaching for her phone. Jack had followed them into the drawing room and was looking as terrified as Robin.
‘How long will it take to come?’ he asked under his breath.
‘They’ll be here soon,’ replied Tara firmly. Within seconds she was giving concise details of the situation and their whereabouts.
Jasmine sat panting rapidly on the sofa with Robin crouched in front of her, clasping her hand.
‘It’s going to be OK, Jas,’ he valiantly attempted to soothe, when inside he was crashing. He cursed himself for driving them here. They should never have come in the first place.
Perspiration poured from Jasmine’s face as she continued to take great gulps of air. Tara went to sit next to her and put a hand on her forehead. She was burning up and badly needed assistance.
‘The ambulance is on its way,’ she assured her. ‘We’ll soon have you safe and sound.’
She quickly pulled up a footstool and gently helped Jasmine put her legs up. Then she checked her pulse, which was racing. Her eyes scanned the room frantically. If needs be, the ambulance crew may have to deliver the babies on site, depending on how advanced Jasmine’s labour was. At least she’d be on hand to help.
After what seemed an agonising wait, help was soon on its way. To their utter relief, they heard it, the helicopter blades whooshing in the distance.
‘It’s here!’ yelled Jack, running to the bow window.
‘Thank God!’ cried Robin, on the verge of tears.
Outside in the hall, the volume was so loud on the big screen, and the audience so gripped with the drama, that only when the helicopter landed on the lawn did they notice it, causing a commotion.
Emma and Felix dashed to the drawing room to see the patio doors flung open and the air ambulance crew carrying Jasmine out to the helicopter on a stretcher, with a now frantic Robin scurrying behind. Tara appeared totally in control, giving the paramedics information, marching alongside them. She got into the helicopter too while Jack nodded and gave the thumbs-up to her. And then they were gone, whisked away to the hospital.
Emma and Felix stared in shock, dumbfounded. Jack walked back through the patio doors into the drawing room, white as snow.
‘Jack, what happened?’ gasped Emma, eyes wide.
‘Jasmine’s waters broke. She’s gone into labour,’ replied Jack, then puffed his cheeks out.
‘Oh, my God, is she OK?’ she asked urgently.
‘Hopefully. She’s in safe hands,’ said Jack, all the time admiring Tara’s composed direction of the situation. What a woman. They were then interrupted by a puzzled-looking Calum.
‘Where’s Mum?’ He frowned.
‘It’s all right, mate,’ answered Jack and told him what had happened and where Tara was. Calum, like the others, had been so engrossed with the big screen that he’d missed seeing his mum disappear with Jasmine and Robin. Felix looked from Jack to Emma, not really knowing what to say. There was a moment’s hiatus.
‘Your mum will ring me as soon as there’s news,’ stated Jack.
‘OK.’ Calum nodded. Then asked, ‘Can I watch the rest of the programme?’
Jack smirked at this coolness. Clearly Calum took after his mum.
‘I don’t see why not.’ He shrugged. ‘We can’t do anything else, can we?’
Jasmine was wheeled swiftly and smoothly into the maternity ward, where a consultant and two nurses stood waiting for her. Tara was on hand again, giving details that Robin frustratingly couldn’t understand. He was struggling to take everything in. Talk of blood pressure, heartbeats, IV fluids, gas, air and incubators were banded about. ‘It’s my fault,’ he kept telling himself. He should have insisted they stayed at home, not having his girlfriend on her feet. His thoughts flashed back to helping Jasmine up the steps to Felix’s house. What fools they’d been! He should have insisted, put his foot down, beenadamantthat she stayed at home and rested.
Looking at her now though, she did seem calmer, breathing deeply, steadily, instead of feverishly panting. She was being given calm instructions, and as the remarkable, pragmatic,wonderfulwoman she was, Jasmine took everything in her stride. His heart burst with pride. ‘Pull yourself together, Spencer,’ he now told himself. He had to be strong to support her. She was the one going through it all, led on a bed, being examined, assessed and God knows what else. Robin closed his eyes. Get a grip, man, his inner voice ordered. And he did. He held his amazing woman’s hand throughout the short but intense labour.
As the babies were premature, as expected, they were tiny and delivered with ease. The complicated part was the care they’d need after birth. The two small incubators at the foot of the bedlay waiting to whiz the newborns to the neonatal unit. A boy came first, fists clenched, feet kicking and wailing like a banshee, followed by his sister, whose cries were a touch more subdued. Tears poured down Robin’s face as he watched them being carefully transported and nestled safely into incubators. Then his eyes swept to Jasmine, looking exhausted but happy. She too was crying.
‘Let me see them,’ she softly called.
‘Of course,’ said the consultant with a smile.
