She was still breastfeeding her night and morning, but she might not be able to keep it going, she realised with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, not if she had to get the girls ready for school and out of the door in time to get to work. She stared down, watching her daughter suckle, treasuring every second of this fleeting, precious moment.
The baby flung her little arm out, turning her head at a sound from the window, endlessly curious and distracted now her thirst was slaked, and Lucy sat her up in the middle of the bed and handed her a toy to play with while she packed a bag for Andy.
It seemed so wrong—so unnecessary! Why couldn’t he see? Why couldn’t he give them the time they surely deserved?
Damn. She swallowed the tears down, threw his razor and deodorant and toothbrush into a washbag, tucked it into the holdall and zipped it up. There. Done. She’d drop it in later, on their way out somewhere.
The zoo?
No. It was cold and rainy. Maybe she’d take them swimming to the leisure centre, to take their minds off Andy’s absence.
Oh, help. She’d have to tell the girls something—but what?
That he was working? So busy working he didn’t have time to come home, so he was going to stay at the hospital?
That was a good point. She had no idea where he’d stay, and she told herself she didn’t care, but he might need to wear something at night. She unzipped the bag again, put in the emergency pyjamas which never saw the light of day and a clean dressing gown and the slippers his aunt had sent him for Christmas last year, and tugged the zip closed with a sinking feeling.
Christmas. It was only a little over two months away.
Would he be there with them for Christmas? What if he never came to his senses?
What if they simply didn’t matter that much to him?
She choked down the sob and scooped Lottie up, carrying her and the holdall downstairs and putting her in the high chair with some toys while she put the bag into her car. He’d need his laptop, she realised, and went into his study to get it. She wasn’t giving him an excuse to come back here tonight and try to win her round. They’d been married ten years now and she knew how his mind worked. No. He had to take this seriously.
There was a large brown envelope lying on the lid of his laptop, the address written in his bold, slashing script. His assignment, she realised. She frowned at it. His writing was untidier than usual—because he was so tired? Probably. His fault, she told herself, crushing the little flicker of sympathy.
She put the envelope into the case with the computer, threw in the power lead and his flash drive, then remembered his mobile phone charger, as well, and took the case out to the garage.
By the time she got back into the kitchen, the girls were coming down the stairs, giggling and chasing each other into the kitchen.
Oh, lord, how to tell them?
‘Morning, darlings.’
‘Morning!’ Emily reached up as she bent down
and kissed her, then went and sat at the table, legs swinging. ‘Mummy, what are we doing today?’
Megan’s arms were round her hips hugging her, and she stroked her hair automatically and tried to smile at her daughters. ‘I don’t know. What would you like to do?’
‘Can we feed the ducks with Daddy?’ Megan asked, tipping her head back, her eyes pleading.
She hauled in a breath, her smile faltering. ‘No, sorry, he’s had to go to work.’
‘But he said he wasn’t working today!’ Emily said, looking appalled. ‘He promised us!’
‘I know. He didn’t want to go but they didn’t have anyone else. And he can’t let people suffer.’
The words had a hollow ring of truth, but she brushed them aside. He could have said no. They would have found someone, or if necessary closed the unit. Or he could at least have talked to her about it, instead of presenting it as a fait accompli.
‘Actually, he’s going to be so busy he’s going to stay at the hospital for a few nights,’ she said, the lie sticking in her throat. ‘So, anyway, I thought maybe we could go swimming after breakfast. What do you think? And then maybe we can get pizza for lunch.’
Their replies sounded fairly enthusiastic, but there was something missing, some extra sparkle and fizz, another dimension that should have been there.
Andy. Their father, her husband, the man who broke promises.
Don’t go there!
‘Right. Who wants what for breakfast?’
* * *
It was tedious and chaotic and half the people didn’t need to be there.
Realistically, they could have got anyone to cover him, he thought grimly as he worked his way through the sprains and strains and fractures that yesterday’s sporting fixtures had left in their wake. It was all basic stuff, the sort of thing that any half-decent doctor could deal with, and the thought made him angry.
‘Right, you’ll need to come to the Fracture Clinic tomorrow morning between eight and nine for assessment and a proper cast. Here’s a prescription for pain relief.’
He scrawled his signature on the bottom, handed it over and walked out, shaking his head and rolling it on his neck. It ached, and he couldn’t think clearly. He was so, so tired. Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe he should have just said no, and they would have had to close the unit. That might have made them sit up and take notice and get a bit better organised.
In the meantime, he needed a coffee. A strong one.
‘Oh, Mr Gallagher, your wife dropped your case and laptop off. They’re behind here,’ the receptionist said as he passed her.
He stared at her for a shocked half-second, then nodded. ‘Yes—of course. Sorry, miles away. Could you stick them in my office?’
‘Sure.’ She eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Mr Gallagher, are you OK?’
‘I’m fine, Jane. I’m just tired,’ he muttered, and then went behind reception. ‘Actually I’ll take them myself,’ he said, and hoisting the bag and laptop case up, he headed for his office.
He could feel her eyes boring into him all the way, hear the speculation starting. Damn Lucy! Damn her for making it all so much worse than it had to be.
He shut the door, dumped the bags on the floor behind his desk and slammed his fist down on it.
How dare she! How dare she bring his things in like that and make a public spectacle of their dirty laundry?
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and speed-dialled her number. It went straight to answerphone. Screening his call?
‘I’ve just been accosted by a curious receptionist who handed me an overnight bag,’ he said shortly. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Call me!’
He cut the connection and threw the phone down on the desk in disgust.
She’d meant it. She’d really, really meant it.
He felt numb, and slightly sick. And homeless? Where was he going to stay?
Stupid. He should just go home, have it out with her, make a few promises—and keep them, his conscience prodded—and deal with it. Except he was angry—angry with Steve for asking him to cover again, angry with the whole locum situation, angry with Lucy for not being reasonable, but most of all angry with himself for letting it all get out of hand by not saying no. Not to mention taking on the course, which was the just the last straw on the back of this failing camel that was their marriage.
And it wasn’t going to get any better until the course was over, until he’d sat the exam and could put the whole damn thing to bed. Then he could go back to Lucy and talk about this.
And in the meantime, they could have a cooling off period. Lucy could calm down a bit, so could he, and he could shut himself away somewhere and work so he had the slightest chance of passing the course, to make the whole thing worthwhile.
It was half term next week and Lucy had already arranged to take the child
ren to her parents so he could revise in peace. So he’d check into a hotel, get the exam out of the way and then they could all get back to normal.
But first, they needed to agree on what they were telling the children, because the last thing he wanted was them thinking that their marriage was coming to an end when it wasn’t—or at least, not if he had anything to say about it.
He pulled the telephone directory out of his drawer, looked up the number of a decent hotel chain which had a motel nearby and booked himself a room.
And then he went back to work, asked one of the nurses to bring him back a coffee when she came back from her break and took the next set of notes out of the rack.
* * *
The receptionist gave him a wide berth for the rest of the day.
He wasn’t surprised. Gossip travelled like wildfire through hospitals, and even though there was nothing to know, really, he could sense the speculation.
He hated it. Hated that they were talking about him behind his back, hated that when he walked out at the end of the day carrying his bag and laptop case, he could feel eyes following him.
You’re imagining it, he told himself, throwing the cases in the car and slamming the boot, still furious with Lucy. The motel was just a couple of minutes away, on the road into town, and he checked in and went straight to his room.
Clean, functional, with a kingsize bed, a sofa, a desk with a work light and a bathroom with a decent power shower, it was the generic hotel room. Everything he needed, but soulless and empty, because the only thing he really needed was his family.
His throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard and dumped the bags on the bed. She still hadn’t called him. Why not? It was six o’clock. She’d be dealing with the children.
Fine. He’d go over to the indifferent restaurant, get himself something to eat and then come back here and work, otherwise this whole damn fiasco would be pointless.
* * *
She stared at the phone, her lip caught between her teeth, and psyched herself up to call him.
He was right. She shouldn’t have dumped his stuff in reception. She’d been steaming mad with him, but she could as easily have put it in the boot of his car and sent him a text.
She owed him an apology for that, and he was right, they needed to talk about the children, to arrange a time for him to see them so they didn’t feel cut off from him. That was the last thing she wanted.
Sucking in a deep breath, she dialled his number, and he answered on the first ring.
‘This better be good, Lucy.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, before he could get another word in. ‘I didn’t think. I was just cross. Andy, we need to talk.’
‘Yes, we do. You don’t just kick me out like a damn cat and then publicly humiliate me in front of the entire department. You owe me more than that, whatever beef you might have with me. And you owe the kids more. They’re at school with other staff members’ children, and you know what hospitals are like, so what story are we coming up with so they don’t end up being screwed over by this nonsense?’
‘It isn’t nonsense, Andy. Our marriage is foundering, and you have to start taking that seriously.’
‘Oh, I take it seriously. Very seriously. I also take my job seriously, but the kids come first, even if it doesn’t seem like it, and right now, I’m being pulled in so many directions I can’t be reasonable about this. Of all the times to pick—’
‘It’s because of this time!’ she interrupted. ‘Precisely because of what’s been going on! And that blasted course—’
‘I don’t want the children thinking there’s a rift in our marriage, not until we’ve tried and failed to work it out, and I don’t want that to happen under any circumstances, but I can’t deal with this now. I’ll do what you say, I’ll keep out of the way, get this exam over and the course finished, and then we’ll talk, but play fair and cut me some slack, Luce, because I’m so tired I’m at breaking point.’
His voice cracked, and she swallowed a sob. She nearly told him to come home, but what he said made sense.
‘OK. We’ll do that. I’ve told the children you’re so busy at the hospital that you’re going to stay there for a few days. We’ll stick with that. I’m away with them next week anyway, so you can work undisturbed. And then after the exam, we’ll talk about this. OK?’
He gave a ragged sigh. ‘OK. I’ll come round tomorrow night and see them for a few minutes.’
Her heart hitched, but she had no choice, and he was right. ‘OK. Want supper?’
‘No. And don’t tell them, just in case I get held up. I don’t want to break any more promises to anyone, so it’s easier if I don’t make them.’
Her eyes filled, and she nodded. ‘All right. Well—get here if you can.’
‘I will. And—oh, nothing. Doesn’t matter. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
The phone went dead, and she stared at it. What had he been going to say?
I love you?
Unlikely. He hadn’t said it for ages. A year, maybe? She couldn’t remember, it was so long ago.
She pressed her hand to her mouth, but the sob wouldn’t stay down, so she buried her face in a cushion to stifle the sound and wept for the man she loved and might have lost...
* * *
He finished on time on Monday, by a miracle, so he could get home in time to see the children. He needed some things from the study and a few more clothes, as well, and he wanted to see the children so much it made him ache inside. They hadn’t asked for any of this, and he didn’t see why they should suffer.
Lucy’s car was still on the drive, and he pulled up beside it and headed for the front door. As he slid his key into the keyhole he wondered fleetingly if she would have changed the locks.
No. The key turned, the door swung quietly open and Stanley was there to greet him, tail lashing, tongue lolling in delight.
‘Hello, boy,’ he said gruffly, and then Emily was in the hall, looking pleased to see him but a bit wary, and it nearly broke his heart.
‘Mummy said you weren’t coming home this week,’ she said, hanging back a little. ‘She said you were too busy and you were going to stay at the hospital.’
Oh, Em. He ushered her back into the kitchen where Lucy was wiping supper off Lottie’s face and hair and arms.
‘Well, they finally got a locum so I finished early,’ he said truthfully, ‘so I thought I’d come and see you all for a few minutes and pick up some stuff. And I’m really sorry about yesterday.’
‘Are you staying here tonight now, then?’ Megan asked innocently, and he glanced up and met Lucy’s guarded but feisty eyes and smiled grimly.
‘No, darling, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go back to work. So, what did you guys do yesterday?’ he asked, suddenly desperately sorry that he’d missed it. ‘Did you have fun?’
‘Mummy took us swimming, and Florence was there,’ Megan said, ‘and we all went swimming together.’
‘Florence?’ he asked.
‘Ben Walker’s daughter. She’s in Megan’s class,’ Lucy filled in, and he nodded. He knew Ben. He was an obstetrician, and he’d met little Florence when she’d dislocated her elbow a couple of years ago. He’d married his registrar, Daisy, and they’d had a baby since. They were a nice family. Happy. Stable. Unlike them...
‘And Daisy was there, and Thomas, and Daisy’s going to have a new baby soon!’ Emily said. ‘And then we went for pizza, because Florence’s Daddy was at the hospital, too, and Mummy and Daisy are going for coffee tomorrow after we go to school. And it’s not fair, ’cos they’ll have cake, and I want cake,’ she added mournfully.
He found himself smiling, despite the ache lodged solidly behind his sternum. ‘Sounds like you had a good day,’ he said, but Megan was hugging his legs and tugging at him for attention.
&nb
sp; ‘Please can you read us a story?’ she asked, her pleading eyes shredding him.
He shook his head, wishing he could but there just wasn’t time, not if he was going to get any work done. ‘No. Sorry. I have to sort some things out and then get back, but I will one night soon.’
Her face fell, tearing another strip off his heart, and she gazed sadly up at him. ‘When, Daddy?’
Always questions. Questions that demanded answers that nearly always seemed to be promises destined to be broken.
‘Soon,’ he said again, knowing it was meaningless but unwilling to make another promise that fate could so easily break, and he hugged her, pressing a kiss to her toffee-coloured curls and letting go. Emily trailed him into the study and stood watching while he searched for a memory stick with some information on it he needed, and in the background he could hear Lottie crying tiredly and Megan crooning to her while Lucy cleared up the kitchen.
‘Why can’t you stay here and work?’ Em asked, squiggling one toe on the floor, her leg swinging from side to side rhythmically as she watched him. ‘You always do.’
‘It’s not that sort of work,’ he lied, and felt a wave of resentment that Lucy was bringing them all to this. His fingers closed around the memory stick and he pulled it out and shut the drawer. ‘Got it. Right, sweetheart, I need to head off. You be good for Mummy, OK?’
‘I’m always good,’ she said reproachfully, and he hugged her, because it was true, she was a good girl and he loved her more than he could ever find the words.
‘It’s not for long,’ he said, mentally crossing his fingers as he bent to kiss her goodnight. ‘I’ll see you again in a day or two.’
‘Ring first,’ Lucy said from the doorway. She was standing there with Lottie, and the baby was leaning out towards him and grizzling, so he took her and hugged her tight, crushing the lump in his throat and gritting his teeth.
‘I’d better go,’ he said, handing Lottie back and ruffling Megan’s hair. ‘I’ll see you soon, guys.’
He let himself out, shutting the door behind him without collecting any of the clothes he’d meant to get, and all the way back to the motel he wrestled with the lump in his throat.
From Christmas to Eternity Page 3
