‘That’s a shame,’ she said, before she could stop herself, and she felt rather than heard the soft chuckle.
‘Yeah, it is, but it’s not a good idea, Kate, not with so much at stake. We need to take our time with this.’
‘I thought you’d want to hustle me into bed and sweet-talk me into keeping the baby,’ she said, almost disappointed, and this time the laugh was a sad huff of despair.
‘You really don’t think a lot of me, do you, if you think I’d sink so low that I’d use sex to manipulate your feelings?’
‘Most men would.’
‘I’m not most men. I’m just me, trying to do what’s right for all three of us, and frankly I don’t know what that is. I feel as if I’m groping my way along a narrow ledge in the dark, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.’
He sounded so lost, so lonely that she lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, feeling the rasp of his stubble against her palm and longing for him to kiss her, to bring back the closeness she’d felt on that January night.
‘I swear I didn’t do this on purpose.’
He turned his head slightly and kissed her hand, sending shivers of need through her. ‘I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one that broke my golden rule, not you.’
‘It’s not all your fault—’
‘Yes, it is. It’s all down to me, and it’s my responsibility to fix it and I don’t know how right now.’
‘I really did think it was safe,’ she told him, hating that he was taking the blame when all the time it was just a wicked twist of fate. ‘And I know this is hurting you.’
His body stiffened fractionally and although he didn’t move she felt the gulf open between them again. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Your reaction? I’d expected you to be angry when I told you, but you were more upset.’
‘I was just shocked.’
‘No, you weren’t. It was more than that, much more, as if I’d hit a raw nerve. And before you started James told me to steer clear of you because you were emotionally broken.’
This time he went rigid, his body unyielding, frozen. ‘Why would he say that?’
‘I have no idea. That’s all he said, but I have a gift for choosing the wrong men. Maybe he was just trying to protect us both, but he didn’t say what from.’
He disentangled himself, getting to his feet and walking to the window, his back straight, hands rammed in his pockets as he stared out into the night, and she watched his reflection in the glass and held her breath for what felt like an age.
‘He’s right, I suppose,’ he said eventually, his voice expressionless. ‘My fiancée died two years ago, just before our wedding.’
For the first few seconds shock held her rigid, then she stumbled to her feet and crossed over to him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight.
‘Oh, Sam, I’m so, so sorry...’
She crushed down the tears, the sobs. This wasn’t her grief, it was his, and she needed to be here for him. But he didn’t want her. His body was held rigid, but she didn’t let go. She couldn’t let go, couldn’t abandon him now when it was all so raw because of her forcing him into a corner and making him drag it all back up out of the past.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, her voice a whisper in the silence, and then at last he moved, as the tension eased out of him on a ragged sigh, turning to haul her hard against his chest.
They didn’t speak, just stood there holding each other as their emotions came under control again. And then he let her go, easing away a fraction, cradling her face in his hands as he stared down and searched her eyes, his own empty and desolate.
‘Don’t pity me, Kate,’ he warned softly. ‘I don’t want your pity. It’s not about you. It’s about me, and it’s nothing to do with us, with this—situation we’re in.’
She nodded, willing her tears not to overflow now, but it was hard, and she took his hands and lifted them away from her face and went into the kitchen. ‘I’ll make some more tea,’ she said, her voice a little thickened, and she filled the kettle and started to wash up, but her wrist gave a twinge and she gasped.
‘Let me do that.’
‘It’s fine, I can manage.’
‘I’m sure you can, but you don’t need to. You don’t have to prove anything to me—’
‘I’m not proving anything to anybody. I’m just washing up. It’s hardly going to kill me—’
Her words echoed in the sudden silence, reverberating around them like a tolling bell, and then he swore and headed for the door.
She heard it slam and the sound of his footsteps running down the stairs, and still she didn’t breathe. What had she done? Why had she said that, of all things?
The last thing she’d meant to do was hurt him with her careless words. It must be horrendous for him being stuck with her when all he wanted was—she didn’t even know her name, the woman he’d lost and was still obviously grieving.
‘Oh, Sam,’ she said softly, and it was only after she heard the outer door close and saw his car drive away that her eyes welled with tears.
Not for herself, but for the lonely, broken man she was in danger of falling in love with, and the nameless woman he’d loved and so cruelly lost.
* * *
The wind had strengthened, and it would have made sense to have picked up his coat on the way out, but he didn’t care about the cold, or the sting of the sea spray that bit into his cheeks as he strode along the darkened prom. He walked from one end to the other and back again, hands rammed in his pockets as the wind tugged at him, the sound of the sea crashing against the shore drowning out his furious tirade as he vented his anger and grief and frustration.
It was just all so wrong, so horribly, horribly wrong, and despite his duty, despite knowing what he had to do, it was only now that he realised the implications of what he’d said to her on Monday when she’d first told him she was pregnant.
He’d virtually promised to marry her, but how could he do it, how could he make those same vows he’d been going to make to Kerry? He couldn’t stand there by the altar and wait for the wrong woman to walk down the aisle to him, her body cradling his child.
It should have been Kerry! Kerry, whom he loved with all his heart. Kerry, who should have been walking down the aisle to him...
They’d buried her in the wedding dress she’d never had the chance to wear, and he’d lifted the veil from her face and put the wedding ring on her lifeless finger before he’d kissed her goodbye, so pale, so beautiful. So dead.
He screwed his eyes up to shut out the images, but they wouldn’t leave him, and now alongside them was the image of Kate’s face, racked with dread and apprehension as she’d told him she was carrying his baby.
There was no place for her there with the images of Kerry, but there she was, intruding on his grief without even trying, trashing everything when he’d just got his life back on an even keel.
Or thought he had, but now he realised he’d been kidding himself; he wasn’t over Kerry, hadn’t dealt with her death, he’d just been running away, and he was in no way ready to take on the responsibility for another woman and a child.
Which made no difference at all, because he and Kate had both messed up, and now there was an innocent baby to consider who hadn’t asked for any of this and didn’t care if they were ready or not.
There was nowhere else to run to. It was time to face reality, to put the past behind him and move on.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE WAS ALONE in the locker room the next morning when he walked in and she turned to him, racked with guilt.
‘Sam, I’m sorry—’
‘About last night—’
They spoke together, and he ran a hand through his hair and let out a short huff of something that could possibly
have been laughter. Or despair.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, before he could speak again, because the look on his face had haunted her all night. ‘Sorry I said that, sorry I pushed you to tell me about her, just—I’m sorry. So sorry. I had no idea—I would never have—’
‘Forget it. You didn’t make it any worse, Kate, it is what it is. And I’m sorry I left like that. I shouldn’t have walked out, I just needed some air.’
She nodded her understanding and then, just because she had to do something other than stand there, she opened her locker and turned back, his coat in her hand.
‘You left this behind.’
‘I know. I got more fresh air than I bargained for,’ he said wryly, taking the coat. ‘Thanks. How’s your wrist?’
‘Oh.’ She glanced at it. She hadn’t even given it a thought she’d been so distressed. ‘It’s fine. I’d forgotten.’
‘The power of frozen peas,’ he said, his mouth tilting into the beginnings of a smile as he lobbed his sweater into the locker and turned the key, and she hauled in a shaky breath.
‘Well, I’d better get on,’ she said.
‘Yeah, me too. I’ll see you later. How about a coffee, if we can find time?’
He wanted to spend time with her? She felt her shoulders drop in relief, and she smiled at him. ‘Yes, that would be good. Where are you working?’
‘I think I’m in Resus.’
‘Oh. So am I. James must have run out of ways of keeping us apart.’
A fleeting frown crossed his face. ‘Do you seriously think he’s been doing that?’
‘Well, one of you has. It certainly wasn’t me.’
‘Nor me.’ His mouth flickered in a smile. ‘Ah, well, I’m sure he’ll get over it. Shall we go and face the fray?’
He held the door for her, and she walked past him, close enough to smell the mint on his breath and see the tiny cut where he’d nicked his skin shaving. She wanted to reach up and kiss it better, but thought better of it and made herself keep moving.
* * *
It was busy all morning, without time to draw breath never mind take a break, and then just when they were thinking about grabbing a coffee it all kicked off again.
‘Adult resus call, cardiac arrest, ETA five minutes,’ a disembodied voice announced over the PA, and she went to the desk to find out more.
‘Twenty-year-old male, no known history. He was playing football,’ she was told. She turned towards Resus and nearly bumped into Sam.
He was standing right behind her, his face a mask, and she took his arm and moved him away from the desk.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked softly.
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
The eyes were still blank, as if he was in lockdown, and she gave a tiny, questioning shrug. ‘I don’t know, you tell me.’
His eyes snapped to life. ‘I’m fine. Let’s just do it, please?’
There was no time to discuss it further, because the doors from the ambulance bay flew open and their patient was wheeled in, a paramedic kneeling over him doing chest compressions.
Sam was straight into it, taking over CPR from the paramedics as they wheeled the patient into Resus, listening to their report, firing the odd question, issuing instructions in a calm, clear voice as he delegated tasks to the hastily reassembled team.
James was in there too, working on another critical patient, and he lifted his head and frowned.
‘Want to swap?’ he asked Sam, but Sam shook his head.
‘I’m fine.’
‘OK. If you change your mind—’
‘I won’t.’
So it wasn’t just her imagination. There was something wrong—something to do with his fiancée’s death? Whatever, James was there in the background, so she stopped fretting and concentrated on doing her job for their patient. Frankly, he needed everyone’s concentration, and even so she didn’t think they’d save him, but Sam refused to stop, and so she and the rest of the team shrugged and kept going, too.
They’d been working on him for thirty minutes without success when James came over, his own patient now stabilised.
‘Do you think you should call it, Sam?’ he murmured, but Sam shook his head.
‘No. Not giving up.’
Just that, but there was a world of pain and resolution in his terse reply, and James just nodded and took over chest compressions, letting Sam call the shots as he stayed there, ready to take over if he did crack, but he didn’t.
It seemed for ever before the young man’s heart finally restarted, by which time he’d been down for fifty-five minutes and they had a senior cardiologist and a team from CCU standing by to take over. Only then did Sam step back, his face drained.
James laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘Good call, Sam, well done. Kate, you two go for coffee now, I’ll hand over and talk to the parents,’ James said softly, and she wheeled Sam out into the fresh air, waiting as he stood for a long moment, hands rammed in his pockets, hauling in air.
‘OK now?’ she asked when he let the air out on a long ragged sigh, and he nodded.
‘Yes, I am now we’ve got him back. I just wasn’t going to let him go without a fight.’
‘No, I realised that. Come on, let’s get you some coffee.’
He nodded again and walked with her round the outside of the building to the café.
‘Stay here, I’ll get it,’ she said, and went in and ordered a coffee for him and a bottle of water for herself, added a double chocolate muffin and carried it out to him, her mind tumbling with questions she couldn’t ask.
He was leaning against the side of the building, one foot propped up on the wall, arms folded, and he shrugged away from the wall and crossed over to her, taking the coffee from her. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have let you go in there. I know it makes you feel queasy.’
‘Actually it was fine. It’s getting better. Want to sit outside? It’s peaceful but the benches might be a bit damp.’
‘I’m sure we’ll cope. Is that muffin for me or are you going to make me watch you eat it?’
‘I had thought we’d share it,’ she said, turning her head and looking up at him, and he smiled slowly, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, the tension receding.
‘Thank you.’
‘It’s only half a muffin.’
‘I didn’t mean the muffin.’
‘Oh.’ Then what...? ‘Here, this bench looks OK.’ She sat down, patted the space beside her and he perched on the edge and propped his elbows on his knees, the coffee dangling from his fingertips as he stared vacantly at the floor. Seeing what?
‘Want to talk about it?’ she asked, when he’d sat there for several seconds without moving.
‘Not really. Nothing to say.’
‘You saved his life, Sam. That’s not nothing.’
‘I wasn’t talking about Tom. And he’s not out of the woods yet by a long way.’
‘No, I don’t suppose he is, but at least he has a chance now, thanks to you.’
They fell silent, and she watched him as he fought some inner battle and finally gave in.
‘We were due to get married three weeks after I came home on leave from Afghanistan,’ he said, his voice sounding rusty and unused. ‘Kerry emailed me, full of all the things we had to do before the wedding, bubbling with excitement, telling me she couldn’t wait to see me, but there was an army officer waiting for me when I landed.’
Kate felt her heart thud, her breath jamming in her throat as he went on.
‘Her family had raised the alarm the night before because they couldn’t get hold of her, and she was found dead in our flat the morning I landed. No warning, no symptoms, nothing. The post-mortem revealed an undiagnosed heart condition that had led to a cardiac arrest. And
just like that, it was all gone. My whole life—all our plans for our wedding, the family we were going to start—everything, wiped out when her heart stopped beating.’
And if you’d been there, you might have saved her...
Sam took a long pull on his coffee, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and leant back with a sigh. ‘If only I’d been there, Kate,’ he said softly, as if she’d spoken out loud. ‘If only I’d come home a day earlier, or it had happened a day later, I might have saved her. I could have kept her going, like I kept Tom going, until her heart had restarted, but I never got the chance.’
She felt her eyes well with tears. ‘Oh, Sam. No wonder you couldn’t let him go,’ she said softly. ‘Would you ever have given up on him?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe, when I couldn’t go on any longer? When the team had deserted me, and James had dragged me off his body? I don’t know. Luckily we didn’t have to find out. So, are we eating that muffin or are you just going to pull it to pieces?’
She looked down at it, the paper case shredded, a big chunk of the cake broken away in her fingers. She took the chunk, handed the rest to him and swiped the crumbs away impatiently. ‘Here, you eat it. I’ve had far too much cake recently as it is. My clothes are all getting tight.’
‘Is that just from cake, or could it be the baby?’
‘Maybe. I would have thought it was too soon, but—possibly.’
‘When’s your scan?’
‘Monday. It’s at eight in the morning.’
‘Do you want me there?’
She turned and searched his face, wondering how he could bear to do this, how he could even look at her after what he’d told her about Kerry’s death. ‘Do you still want to come?’
‘I do, but I thought you didn’t want me there.’
‘I wasn’t sure last night. It seemed odd, as if you were a total stranger, but now, since you’ve told me about Kerry, let me in a bit, I feel as if I know more about you, about where you’re coming from on this. Enough at least to know that even though you obviously wanted a family, having a baby with me isn’t something that you would have signed up to in a million years, and that you deserve a say in what happens to it.’
Their Meant-to-Be Baby Page 6
