→ CHAPTER EIGHT; DEATH & LOVE.
( trigger warning - stillborn baby, mentions of death, sensitive topics )
Hannah knew that this day would come eventually; the day when she would begin to question why she decided to join such a heart breaking profession. There was tears of joy majority of the time, laughter and friendships were shaped because of the beautiful actions that the female body could accomplish. Yet, there was always heartbreak lurking somewhere around the corner. Contamination, lack of money, underprivileged housing and not enough medical knowledge was usually a factor in the anguish and led to a high death rate with babies. Fortunately for Hannah, she had never been faced with a situation such as stillborn, until this day, but she had heard of other midwives speak about it with agony palpable in their voices.
The sound of no crying, screaming or breathing was unquestionably petrifying to Hannah and other midwives. If they were fortunate, they would be able to get the baby breathing again, with a few small smacks, before anything serious happened. Still, there was always the small chance that the new born would not get to encounter their parents, appreciate their youths and grow old. Midwives were professionals, but they still felt heartache for every chilf that they sadly lost, even if they had not directly aided in delivering the baby.
The last few hours had gone tremendously slow for Hannah who was still in shock and disbelief. The hurt that was on Janine Oldfield's face as she was given her child who had not managed to survive would haunt her continually. The vision of her husband, Marcus, trying his absolute hardest to not cry in front of his wife when all he wanted to do was break down, would also haunt Hannah's dreams. But he had to be strong, for his wife, that is what he thought. Even Sister Maria, a midwife who had been in the vocation for over thirty-years, was unashamedly dazed by the death of a new born child, even though she had experienced it countless times before.
"Nurse Anderson, I think it might be best that you leave the rest to me," Sister Maria whispered in Hannah's ear with one hand resting on her shoulder.
Hannah hadn't moved from her position on the floor. Her gloves were covered in the blood, her pinafore no longer sparkling, her clothes were as ruined as her mind. Hannah looked back at Sister Maria, while blinking away a few tears, before sluggishly nodding her head. Hannah hoisted up and removed the blue gloves from her hand, making sure that the new parents did not see the chaos as it would possibly distress them even more.
"The afterbirth will be here soon," she told Sister Maria before walking towards the cleaning station to make herself look more presentable. After a few moments of trying to open the fresh bottle of hand antiseptic, Hannah gave up and turned to Sister Maria with a soft, exhausted smile. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"
Sister Maria shook her head before nodding towards the door. "You're distressed, and you can't hide it. If the parents, see you like this..." Hannah looked over towards Janine and Marcus who were holding their new born son in their arms. Even after dealing with such sorrow, a minor grin was still playing on their lips as they held onto their son for dear-life, opposing the tears that were gradually dropping from each parent's eyes. "Go back to the convent and get some rest, love."
Hannah snivelled before rushing out of the door. The cold wind hit her like a tonne of bricks, but she didn't feel a thing, not really. Every part of her body was emotionless as she thought about the parents that were still inside of the house, suffering with nothing but depraved memories of what should have been the start of a lovely life. Hannah didn't know where she was going, who she was going to see or what she was planning as she trudged through the streets. Her hair was a state, clammy and stuck to her forehead; body fluid still dribbled from her clothing, slowly trailing down until it reached the hem of the nurse's work uniform. She wasn't thinking straight; her brain was one big ambiguous mess as it tried to process the last few hours. It had started out well, things were going effortlessly and then the mother was screaming out in discomfort like nothing else, Sister Maria and Hannah were encouraging the woman on as the head of the baby came to show and then nothing, just pure silence, heavy breathing and shocked faces. The silence that followed would be something that Hannah would never, ever forget.
Before she could process her surroundings, it came into the view. The Garrison. An old sign swinging from half way up the building, the metal banging against the wall was heard throughout the lane because of the heavy and ghastly winds. Hannah hadn't expected much from the pub if she was being truthful, Mr. Maxwell drank there, and he wasn't the most pleasing of menfolk. It was where he drank though, where his family hung around, where the dodgy dealings took place. Betty had told Hannah that people were killed in the disreputable local that looked somewhat harmless on the outside, yet the inside was an entirely different story.
Hannah didn't want to be there, she didn't want Michael to see her in the state that she was in but for some inexplicable reason, Hannah found herself walking closer to the doors; she wanted to be reassured. It was going to go one way or another - Michael would either kick Hannah out for showing up in front of his family or take her to the side and whisper sweet things in her ears to calm her down after the problematic night she had suffered. Michael didn't look like a man that was good at giving out advice but luckily, she didn't want that. Hannah just wanted to feel close to someone and have them tell her that she did well and that she wasn't a failure like she had believed.
As she walked up to the doors of the pub, a familiar face walked out before she could enter. He stared at Hannah with confusion as he scrutinised her bloody clothes and petrified eyes.
"Hannah Anderson, the famous midwife who has taken my best friends heart, we meet again."
"Isaiah." Hannah spoke softly before looking behind Isaiah towards the doors that were still swinging from his dramatic entrance. "Is Michael in there by any chance? I was hoping to speak to him before I went home."
Isaiah's were filled with worry, his cocky attitude dropping as he spotted the sorrow in Hannah's voice. "Yeah, he is. Do you want me to go and get him? But I must say, you look like you need a drink desperately. A whiskey?" Isaiah raised one eyebrow.
"No, I'm fine. I'll go and find him myself, thank you."
Isaiah rummaged through his coat pocket before pulling out a silver metal case, along with a packet of matches. "Alright then. He's in the back room, love."
Hannah gracelessly moved past Isaiah who was taking up most of the doorway entrance, not that he was bothered. The Garrison felt foreign to Hannah, she had been used to high-end, fancy clubs with jazz music and exotic cocktails. In Birmingham, the ideal drink was a pint of larger or a whiskey. There was no music either, no live bands or melodies but there were a few folks in the corners of The Garrison that would sing loudly and out of tune to a song that they had heard in the deep trenches of France. Others would dance along to no music, some just happy to be there, and other people would sit at the booths or stand by the bar as they smoked on their cheap roll ups and drank their beverages.
The unfortunate barman was hysterical as he rushed around the bar, doing his best to serve every man and woman that demanded a drink. The sight cheered Hannah up for a moment but realisation hit her once again and she went back to the cold and horrid mood.
"I'm looking for a Michael Gray," Hannah said to the barman when he passed a drink to the person next to her. The bartender looked at Hannah with confusion; puzzled as to why a young midwife would want to talk to a criminal. Luckily, he didn't question it and pointed towards two doors that were in the corner of the pub. "Thank you," she mumbled before sliding her way through multiple people who were slowly becoming violent with each other.
Debating what to do, Hannah stood by the door for a few moments, having to move out of the way for folk every now and again. She felt squished in the smallish pub and trapped within herself. Leaning against the wall, Hannah closed her eyes as she tried to block out the sad thoughts that were threatening to invade and they would surely expose her wretchedness to everyone in Small Heath.
Isaiah had made his way back inside and over to the bar where he got a drink for himself and Hannah. "You look like you need one, mate. Here," he said, having to raise his voice over the melodies of drunken men that was becoming louder and louder.
Since moving to Small Heath, Hannah hadn't had the time to go out drinking with her friends so the taste of the alcoholic drink, which Hannah couldn't identify, was despicable to her and burned like nothing else. Still, she hid the grimace and thanked Isaiah.
"Why are you stood out here? Just go inside." Isaiah motioned towards the back-room doors and furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why Hannah was acting so strangely. He had only met her once, but he could see that something was wrong with her.
Hannah shrugged, not sure of the answer herself. People were starting to stare at Hannah with as much confusion as Isaiah - a young midwife, one who did not belong in a place like The Garrison, stood outside of the Shelby's precious room with blood and other liquid substances stuck to her uniform. The stares were becoming too much for Hannah who was starting to feel uncomfortable under the harsh gazes, so she moved to turn around and leave the pub because she could make a fool of herself any more, but she was quickly stopped in her tracks when Isaiah placed a hand on her forearm. Hannah turned to face Isaiah, ready to tell him that she was leaving and to not tell Michael that she was in the building but instead, she was faced with Michael who was looking Hannah up and down as he tried to put the pieces together in his head. She hadn't even heard the back-room door open but as she looked over Michael's shoulder, she spotted John, Esme and some other men and women sat staring.
"What's wrong?" Michael finally asked as he linked his fingers with Hannah. She looked to the side and swallowed before shifting her eyes to the ground. "Do you want to go outside?"
Hannah sighed before removing her hand from Michael's. "I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry."
Michael fluttered his eyelashes before looking back at his family members. Polly gave him a subtle nod, signalling for him to go with Hannah. "Come on, let's go outside."
Michael took hold of Hannah's hand once again and the two of them walked out of The Garrison. Michael's power came to show as people moved out of the way for him and tipped their caps as a sign of respect; a contrast to the way that Hannah had been treated only minutes earlier. The pushing and shoving was unbearable, but it was a Friday night and people were trying their best to get rid of the negative feelings that had built up over the working week.
"Tell me what's wrong," Michael said once the two of them were safely outside, away from listening ears and gossiping people. Michael had directed Hannah down a small road that was vacant and dark, only slightly lit up by the midnight moon that was up high. Hannah was pressed against the wall and Michael was stood in front of her, like first time that they had met, as he held onto both of her hands.
"I've just had a really, really bad night and I didn't want to go back to the convent straight away. I didn't plan on coming here, I just came across it. I recognised the pub because one of my patients talks about how the Shelby family own it and I just went in before I could stop myself and then Isaiah gave me a drink - "
"Hannah, you're rambling again," he cut off as he brushed a piece of hair away from her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she whispered but a dark chuckle left her pouted lips. Hannah removed her hands away from Michael's grip and absently wiped them across her face to keep herself calm and collected.
"Stop saying sorry."
"I'm - " Hannah stopped herself before she could finish the words. Michael stifled a laugh before pressing his lips together when he remembered that Hannah was hurt and alone. "God, it's just been fucking awful."
The cold air was making Hannah push herself closer to Michael - at least that's what she's told herself. She was desperate for warmth and comfort and Michael was the only man in sight that would treat her delicately and not hurt her, she believed. It was silly to come running to him when something bad had happened, especially because she had horribly ignored him for a good couple of weeks. The truth was out in the open and Hannah had successfully put it to the back of her mind.
"Was it something to do with a baby?" he asked, being careful to not be so direct in case it released the tide of tears that were bound to slip from Hannah's eyes soon. It had been a few days since he had last seen Hannah at the hospital and he had weirdly missed her.
When he wanted to comfort somebody, Michael could but he could never deal with tears. Hannah's small nod was all Michael needed and he instantly knew what had happened. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Hannah's waist, dragging her closer to his body.
"It's just not fair," she grumbled.
"I know." Michael was doing his best to soothe Hannah, but he was finding it tricky. "Do you want to go and get a drink? I'm sure Esme would love to see you."
Hannah shook her head and moved away from Michael. "Thank you, that's kind. I need to get back to the convent though because the coroners will have to collect the baby and I can't leave Sister Maria to do it on her own."
Michael was trying his hardest to understand but he was still finding it difficult. He didn't want Hannah to be all on her own and it was gone midnight, meaning none of the other midwives would be awake. He wished that he could stay with her for the rest of the night, but she had things to do and so did he.
"I'll ring you, yeah?" Michael looked down at Hannah as he stroked her cheek comfortingly. Without thinking, he leaned down to kiss her, but Hannah moved away with swiftly before their lips could come into contact.
"I'm sorry, I best get going." Hannah sighed before pecking Michael's cheek and leaving him alone to contemplate his decision and choices.
authors note; ending is so rushed but whatever. thank u so much for the reads!! please vote, comment and leave feedback xo