The old man sighed, like he didn’t have much of an opinion on the matter either way. “Pritchard will come see you when he’s ready.”
“That’s not good enough! Our people are expecting us back. You’ve kept us here two days already.”
“Tough luck. Pritchard’s the gaffer, and he’s otherwise occupied at the moment.”
Kamiyo frowned. “What do you mean?”
“His old lady is about to drop a kiddie. She’s not doing so well, and he needs to be with her. That’s why he hasn’t got round to dealing with you.”
Philip rushed to the counter beside Kamiyo. “Chris is a maternity doctor! Dr Kamiyo, tell him.”
The old man studied Kamiyo as though he were dressed like a clown at a business conference. “Uh-huh! You don’t say.”
“I am a doctor,” stated Kamiyo. “I was a registrar at Manchester Hospital Maternity Ward. Let me help.”
The old man huffed. “Women used to have babies just fine without doctors. We have a nurse in our group, and it’s nurses what deliver sprogs, anyway.”
Kamiyo nodded. “Yes, provided nothing goes wrong. You said it’s not going well. The baby could be breech, entangled in the umbilical cord, or a hundred other things. You really want to take the risk that all will go smoothly while you have a trained doctor at your disposal?”
The old man swatted his hand at Kamiyo and groaned. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go tell Pritchard you want to help. I’m sick of guarding you three, anyway.”
The old man tottered off, leaving Kamiyo, Aymun, and Philip unattended. They looked at one another, all thinking the same thing: should we run?
While they were considering it, time ran out. Pritchard appeared, sweaty and breathless. Blood specked his unbuttoned white shirt. “Oliver told me you’re a birth doctor, is that true? Is it true?”
Kamiyo nodded. “I was a doctor at a maternity ward. Is your wife okay?”
“She’s not my wife, but…” He wiped sweat from his brow and began again. “Things aren’t right.”
“Take me to her right now.”
Pritchard didn’t even think about it. He nodded to the counter, encouraging Kamiyo to vault it. Once Kamiyo was on the other side, he waited to see if Philip and Aymun were allowed to follow. Pritchard didn’t seem to object, so the other two men vaulted the counter as well.
Pritchard led them all through a staff-only door that led into a corridor. The small administration area that followed had several offices and a large staff room. It was from inside the staffroom that Kamiyo heard moaning.
The pregnant woman he’d spotted two days ago was lying on a sofa with her legs raised on the armrest. She was clearly in labour, but something wasn’t right. Despite her moaning, she wasn’t in enough pain. In fact, she appeared dozy.
“She’s been like this for hours,” said a young blonde lady in the room. “I don’t know what to do. Shouldn’t she be pushing by now?”
“Are you the nurse?” Kamiyo asked.
She nodded.
“What kind of nurse?”
“A general nurse. I worked at a GP’s surgery. I’m Becky.”
Kamiyo nodded. “Okay, Becky. I’m Dr Kamiyo. I need you to tell me everything. Have her waters broken?”
The girl nodded. Her wide eyes made her young age apparent. She’d probably been a nurse for all of two years. She clearly had no experience with delivery. “Yes,” she said. “That’s when we knew the baby was coming. We boiled water, got blankets, and gave her pain medicine.”
Kamiyo nodded. With that information, he moved over to the labouring woman and examined her. He felt her tummy, and became relatively sure the baby was alive and not in distress. It was when he examined the woman’s arms that he found his first clue as to what was wrong with her. “What are these patches on her arms?”
The nurse stuttered, so Pritchard spoke over her. “They’re pain killers. The patches are slow-release, which we thought would be best.”
“Why did you give her any pain relief at all?”
Pritchard looked confused. “Well, I thought—”
Kamiyo focused on the nurse. “What painkiller did you use?”
She turned toward the corner of the room. “Oh, I have the box over here somewhere. It’s, um, bro… buppa…”
“Buprenorphine?” Kamiyo surmised.
Becky picked up a cardboard box and studied it. “Yes! That’s the one.”
Kamiyo shook his head. “You’ve given her morphine. A patch on both arms. She’s in labour.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t want it to hurt,” said Pritchard. “If she was to scream too loud, the demons might hear. The last attack almost finished us and—”
“She needs to push!” Kamiyo yelled at the man, who was a shadow of the combative brute that had put Kamiyo’s lights out days earlier. “You’ve drugged her up to the eyeballs with morphine, and now she can barely stay awake. We need to rouse her and get her body working again.”
Pritchard nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m so… Look, just tell me what I need to do.”
Kamiyo ignored the man, and instead looked to Philip, standing by the door. “Philip, go back to the pharmacy. I need Misoprostol. I know they have it because I’ve seen it. It will help move things along.” He reached down and pulled the patches off the labouring woman’s arms. “Maybe look for some caffeine pills too. We need to get her heart rate up.”
Philip raced off, colliding with Pritchard and knocking him aside. Becky stood in the middle of the room, fidgeting with her watch. Aymun patted her arm. “Easy child. This is not your fault.”
Kamiyo took Pritchard to one side and made certain things clear to him. “There’s a good chance both this woman and her child will die—not because of anything I am about to do, but because of the things you have already done. For future reference, when delivering a baby, less is more. Don’t administer drugs you know nothing about just for the sake of it. Leave nature to take its course.”
Pritchard had tears in his eyes. “Please, just help her.”
“I will. Tell me her name.”
“H-Holly. We’ve been together
