Page 15 of His Best Friend's Baby

She must have heard him, but there was still no answer and a creepy sensation shimmied down Seth’s spine. He hurried into the room. ‘Polly?’

She still didn’t look up, or acknowledge him. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes focused on something in the distance, and she was breathing deeply and slowly and massaging her stomach in slow circles.

What was this? Some kind of antenatal meditation?

Seth was about to speak again when Polly stopped the massaging, then blinked. Finally, she noticed him.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘Sorry, did you ask me something?’

But Seth was no longer concerned about whether she liked milk in her tea. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked instead.

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘Youthinkso?’

‘Yes, I had a contraction, but I’m pretty sure it was just a Braxton Hicks.’

‘What’s that?’ he asked nervously.

‘It’s like the contractions you have before proper labour starts. A kind of practice run. I’ve had a few of them lately.’

And Polly was telling him thisnow? After he’d dragged her to a small country town that didn’t even have a hospital? ‘Are you sure that’s okay?’ Seth asked, trying, unsuccessfully, not to panic.

‘Yes, yes, it’s fine,’ Polly assured him. ‘It just means I’m getting closer. Apparently, you can have these Braxton Hicks for weeks before the real—’

To Seth’s dismay, she didn’t finish the sentence and started the whole breathing, massaging and focusing business again.

‘Gosh,’ she said when this was finished. ‘That one was a bit stronger.’

‘But it’s not the real thing?’

‘No, I’m sure it’s not. It’s too early, isn’t it?’

How the hell would I know?Seth was suddenly scared and he almost yelled.

‘I think the problem might be this camp chair,’ Polly said. ‘I’ve sunk down so low into it, I’m kind of stuck.’

‘Here, let me help you out.’ Seth offered her his hands.

‘Thanks.’

‘Easy does it,’ he said as he gripped her arms, supporting her by her elbows.

‘Thanks,’ she said again and now that she was upright, she gave Seth a grateful smile—which he was very relieved to see. As far as he knew—although his knowledge of women in labour was sketchy at best—there wasn’t a lot of smiling involved.

‘You might like to try a kitchen stool,’ he suggested, although he wasn’t sure that perching on a stool would be any more comfortable than sinking into a canvas folding chair. ‘I’m afraid I can’t offer much in the way of chairs. Perhaps you’d be better sitting on the back step? Or in the car?’

‘The stool will be fine,’ Polly said, and she sounded quite confident, but she was only halfway to the kitchen before she had to stop again.

Seth swore softly under his breath.

*

Oh, help. Thistime the contraction was actually painful. Not excruciatingly painful, but scarily strong. So strong Polly almost forgot she was supposed to relax and breathe deeply.

It didn’t help that Seth was looking so worried. Poor man. All he’d wanted was to give her a pleasant weekend, a relaxing break away from the city. Insteadshewas givinghimthis worry.

When the contraction was over, Polly sent him another, hopefully reassuring, smile. She’d been genuinely grateful for the strength in his workman’s hands as he’d helped her out of the chair. In that moment, she’d been tempted to lean into him, to soak up more of his warmth and protective strength.

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