Last Tango in Toulouse by Mary Moody Read Free Book Online Page B

soul into the world. She groans impatiently at my suggestion, feeling far too weighed down to walk to the window. At that moment she is overwhelmed by her first pushing contraction, so I dash out the door and inform the midwife who has just come on duty that we are about to have a birth.
    What follows is organised chaos. A bell rings and the doctor on call is summoned even though we know he won’t be required to do much except watch. The midwife who will crown the head makes up a soft mat for herself so she can kneel on the ground – not the conventional hospital delivery mode but always Miriam’s preferred position, on her knees with her head buried in Rick’s lap. Sandra and Lorna continue to apply the hot towels to her back, and I take up a position to photograph the baby being born. Each birth has been well recorded and this one will be no exception. Just as the head – and a very large head it seems to be – is emerging the doctor rushes in, smiling and looking a little flustered. He’s barely made it, and in coming into the room has blocked the natural light from the window that will make all the difference to my photographs.
    â€˜Would you mind moving over there?’ I say rather cheekily. ‘You’re standing in my light.’
    He agrees cheerfully and seems impressed by our well-oiled teamwork. Within moments the head and then the plump pink body of the baby emerges. The midwife passes it betweenMiriam’s legs, and she sits down cradling and kissing the child, who is now yelling mightily. Nobody speaks, allowing Miriam and Rick to discover the baby’s sex at their own pace. She looks between the legs.
    â€˜Hello, Gus,’ she says, sobbing and laughing simultaneously. ‘Hello, little Gus, we love you.’
    It’s another boy and they have already chosen a name – Augustus James, after my mother’s father from Wales. Gus for short. Gus isn’t so little. He’s a mighty 4.3 kilos and perfect in every way.
    Miriam catches my eye.
    â€˜Do you realise what day it is?’ she asks.
    â€˜Monday?’ I venture.
    â€˜No, the date. It’s the 25th. Your birthday. You and Gus have the same birthday.’
    I am overjoyed at this realisation – he’s the best birthday present I have ever had.
    Within an hour Miriam is up and about, moving to a ward because the delivery room is suddenly required for another woman in labour. I go back to the house and rescue David, who has been struggling to entertain three overexcited and by now overtired small boys. I get them dressed ready for school and kindy, and together we take them back to the hospital to meet their new little brother. At first they seem slightly overawed, but nevertheless impressed. I take them to their various day activities and then go back to the house to ready it for Miriam, Rick and Gus to come home. I put a heater in the bedroom and make up the bed with fresh sheets. I start a pot of chicken soup and set the open fire. By lunchtime they are home safe and sound and Miriam snuggles into bed with her now sleeping infant. It’s sucha beautiful scene, and one that never fails to move me, those first few precious hours shared with this new life.
    We all agree that Gus was never meant to be a girl. He’s just perfect being Gus – my birthday boy.

9
    The changes that were happening in all our lives became more apparent soon after the birth of little Gus. I finally made a complete break from my ABC job and then David and I shifted from our Leura house and garden to the farm near Bathurst. Although he was still unsettled by the pace of change, David was steadfastly supportive and even attempted to be cheerful about the farm and the countless irritating problems associated with the move. Statistically, a large percentage of Australians sell up and move house every four or five years, but for us the relocation was traumatic because we had lived in the same house for