CHAPTER EIGHT: Baby Morgan

It was nearly midnight when Andrew reached the Pages’ house. He found Joe Morgan waiting for him. Morgan and his wife had been married for 20 years, and now, to their great joy, they were expecting their first baby.

‘Oh, Doctor, I am glad to see you!’ said Joe. ‘My wife – come quickly.’

Andrew ran into the house for his bag of instruments, and then hurried along to Morgan’s home.

‘I’ll wait outside, Doctor. I’m too worried to come in,’ Morgan said, when they arrived.

Inside, a narrow staircase led up to a small bedroom, which, though clean, had very little furniture and was lit by only an oil lamp. Here Mrs Morgan’s mother and a fat nurse stood anxiously by the bed, watching Andrew’s expression as he moved about the room.

Andrew smiled. ‘Don’t worry!’ he comforted them.

He knew that this case would demand all his attention. As there was nothing that he could do for the moment, he sat down and waited, thinking of Christine.

At half past three he went over to the bed and saw that he could now begin his work. It was a long and difficult birth. Then, just as daylight was beginning, the child was born – lifeless.

As he looked at the baby’s still, white body, Andrew turned cold. Quickly, he gave the child to the nurse and turned his attention to Mrs Morgan, who was also close to death. Working with great speed, he seized a bottle and gave her a medicine to make her heart stronger; he then made a feverish effort to save her by other means. After a few minutes, her heartbeat strengthened. Seeing that she was out of danger, Andrew turned round to the nurse and shouted: ‘Where’s the child?’

The nurse looked afraid: she had put the baby under the bed.

At once Andrew knelt down and pulled out the child. Still kneeling, he examined the boy, and decided that there was just a chance of bringing him to life. He jumped to his feet and ordered the nurse: ‘Get me some hot water – and cold water. Bowls, too! Quickly!’

‘But, Doctor-‘

‘Quick!’ he shouted.

When the bowls arrived, Andrew filled one with the cold water and the other with the hot water. Working with great speed, he then placed the baby first into one bowl and then into the other. He continued this operation for 15 minutes, but the baby showed no sign of life.

‘You’re wasting your time, Doctor,’ said the nurse. ‘It’s dead!’

But Andrew took no notice. He put the baby into hot and cold water for another 15 minutes. Having again achieved no success, he then made a last and more determined effort, pressing on the baby’s little chest, trying to get breath into its still body.

Suddenly, the baby made a movement. Gradually its white face and body began to turn pink. After a few more minutes, it started to cry.

‘Good heavens!’ the nurse cried. ‘It’s – it’s come to life!’

Andrew handed her the child. He felt weak, almost faint. His dirty instruments, cloths and bowls lay in pools of water on the floor. Mrs Morgan was asleep, not knowing what had been happening. Her mother stood by the wall, praying.

‘I’ll come back for my bag later, Nurse,’ Andrew said.

He went downstairs to the kitchen and put on his hat and coat.

Outside, he found Joe. ‘All right, Joe,’ he said. ‘Your wife and son are both safe.’

It was nearly five o’clock. A few miners were already in the streets. As Andrew walked home, he thought: ‘I’ve done something! Oh, God, I’ve done something good at last.’

Andrew had a bath and went downstairs to breakfast. Miss Page, having discovered that his bed had not been slept in, gave him a severe look as he sat down at the table, and remarked: ‘You got home late! I suppose you were out enjoying yourself all night – drinking or getting into some other kind of trouble. You’re as bad as all the other men we’ve employed – you can’t be trusted!’

Andrew was too angry to reply. After the morning surgery, he went back to the Morgans. As he walked down their road, women whom he had never met smiled at him in a most friendly manner. When he reached the Morgans’ house, he received a very warm welcome.

He went upstairs to the bedroom. The little room, which had been so untidy only a few hours before, had been cleaned and polished; and his instruments carefully washed and put into his bag. There were clean sheets on the bed.

The nurse rose from her seat and, smiling at the mother and baby, said: ‘They look very well now, don’t they, Doctor? But they don’t know how much trouble they gave us!’

Mrs Morgan tried to express her thanks. ‘We are very grateful to you, Doctor. Has Joe been to see you yet?’ she asked. ‘No? Well, he’s coming.’

Before Andrew left the house, the old woman gave him a glass of wine.

Two weeks later, when Andrew had paid his last visit of the day, Morgan, who was about to go abroad with his wife and child, called to see him.

‘Money can’t pay for all that you have done for us, but my wife and I would like to give you this little present,’ he said, handing Andrew a cheque for five pounds.

‘But I can’t accept this, Joe!’ Andrew said. He knew that the Morgans had very little money.

‘You must accept it. We want you to,’ Joe told him. ‘It’s a present for yourself – not for Dr Page. You understand?’

‘Yes, I understand, Joe,’ Andrew said, smiling.

He took the cheque to the Pages’ bank and told the manager, Mr Rees, that he wished to open an account.

Rees looked at the cheque and asked slowly: ‘Do you want this account to be in your own name?’

Manson was surprised at the question. ‘Yes. Why? Is the amount too small?’

‘Oh, no, Doctor. We’re very pleased to do business with you. Er – you did say that you want the account to be in your own name?’

‘Yes – of course.’

‘All right, Doctor. I just wanted to check. Good morning, Dr Manson. Good morning!’

Manson left the bank, asking himself what the manager meant. It was some days before he was able to answer the question.