She led the way, going in through her own door on the side and up the stairs on legs like jelly. Was he really all right? And would he still want her? They weren’t one and the same thing, necessarily…
‘Tea?’
He looked around him, his face unsmiling, deep in thought.
She put the kettle on anyway, and turned up the heating. It was chilly in the flat at the end of the day, and she kept her coat on. The kettle boiled, she made tea in mugs and put them down on the table, sitting down and sliding a mug towards him. ‘Biscuit?’
‘Um…no, thanks.’ He took the chair opposite her, and she suddenly realised he was nervous. Crazily, that made her feel better. More hopeful.
He fiddled with his mug, pushed it around, lined up the handle with a pen that was lying on the table. Then finally he looked up and met her eyes.
‘I…ah…I wanted to thank you. You were right, I was a mess. I was running away, hiding from a reality I couldn’t deal with.’
‘And now?’
His smile was bleak. ‘I’m getting there. Done a lot of forgiving—Linda for having the accident, Toby for causing it, me for not saving Toby when, as you rightly said, he was unsavable. And I grieved. You were right about that, too. I hadn’t grieved, hadn’t let them go, hadn’t said goodbye. There was a huge chunk of me set in ice, and you started the thaw. I just had to go and sit it out.’
‘And now?’ she asked, hardly daring to breathe.
‘Now I’ve come back. I’ve sold the house in Norfolk, put my flat in London on the market and finished the final edit on the programme. I’m free to move on—and my heart, for what it’s worth, is about as healed as it’s going to get. We aren’t meant to lose our children, and there’ll always be a part of me that belongs to Toby. There’s nothing I can do about that, but the rest of me—if you want it—is yours.’
His face blurred, and she blinked, the joy in her heart threatening to spill over into tears. ‘I said I’d be here for you. I said I’d wait.’
‘But five months? I had no idea it would take so long, but I just had to work through it.’
‘I tried to contact you. Your phone was never on.’
‘I threw it in the sea. Pete was driving me crazy.’
She nodded. ‘I can understand that. I feel sorry for the people who nicked my phone.’
His mouth quirked. ‘I don’t. Poetic justice.’
He paused, then put his hand into his pocket and drew it out again. ‘You said when we were down in London, before the award thing, that you had no use for jewellery, but there is one thing that I feel you really ought to have, if you can cope with it. It comes with a hell of a lot of strings attached, mind you, but it also comes with all my love. And I know I said a part of me belonged to Toby, but I’d like to share that part with you, because I think you understand.’
He lifted his hand and held it out flat, palm up, and she felt her breath jam in her throat. ‘Oh, Ben, it’s beautiful!’
‘It’s not a solitaire. I know everybody wants one, but they always seem so impractical, sticking up in the way, and this one just seemed to be you.’
She reached out a trembling hand to touch it, a band set with five perfect, flawless stones. ‘Put it on,’ he said, but she shook her head.
‘Not yet. I’ve got something to show you first—something you need to see.’
She delved into her bag and came up with the photo, sliding it across the table to him. He set the ring down and took the photo, picking it up and smiling. He looked a little bemused.
‘The 3-D scanner you were sponsored for. Good grief, it’s so real. Beautiful. Amazing. Fliss and Tom’s baby, I take it. He said they were having another.’
She shook her head. ‘No. It’s not Fliss and Tom’s. It’s ours. She…is ours.’
His mouth opened, and he sucked in a huge breath, his eyes locked with hers. ‘Ours?’ he whispered soundlessly, and stared down at the picture of his child. ‘Meg—how? When?’
‘That Sunday evening, after the accident. I followed you back here. You needed me. I didn’t think. It didn’t matter. Only you mattered.’
‘And this—she—is the result?’
Meg nodded. ‘So, now you know, I come with quite a lot of strings myself.’
He set the photo down with a hand that shook, and picked up the ring. ‘Well matched, then,’ he said, his voice as unsteady as his hand. ‘So will you take it? As a symbol of my love?’
She couldn’t speak. She just bit her lips and nodded, and he slipped it onto her ring finger and held it there, his eyes locked on hers. For a moment, he glanced down at the picture of his daughter, then looked back at Meg, and his eyes were filled with tears. ‘I love you,’ he said quietly. ‘Marry me, Meg. Soon.’
‘Very soon. As soon as you like. But first I need a hug,’ she said, and then she was in his arms, and he was laughing and crying and holding her close.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he said softly. ‘Missed you so much, but I had to be sure it was right. I didn’t want to short-change you.’
‘You haven’t. You couldn’t. Just to know you is more than enough reward. I love you, Ben.’ She kissed him tenderly. ‘I love you.’
‘One thing I forgot,’ he said, lying beside her in the bed, his hand gently curved over his baby daughter. ‘Tom told me there was a job at the hospital. They’re looking for a paediatric anaesthetist to work in pain management. It’s a pretty tough thing to spend your life doing, but you can make a real difference, and I really don’t want to go back to emergency work. I know I can do it, but I don’t want to be faced with it day after day. It’s still raw, and I guess it always will be, but pain management’s been a bit of a hobby of mine for a while, and I’ve done some reading up. I’m going to go and have a chat to them, see if they’ll take me on perhaps as a locum.’
‘So you’d be working here?’
‘If I get it.’
‘Are you sure? About going back into medicine? Don’t do it for me, Ben. You need to do it for you.’
‘I am. I’ve missed it—missed it ridiculously badly. Missed having a purpose, missed being needed, missed the challenge and the technical difficulties and the teamwork—all of it. And if it hadn’t been for you, I might never have realised.’
‘If it hadn’t been for Pete, we would never have met. Now, there’s a thought!’
He groaned and kissed her. ‘Don’t ask me to thank him. That would be a step too far.’
She laughed and kissed him back. ‘I don’t think he deserves it. We might have to invite him to the wedding—and Steve.’
‘Steve’s in Africa with Lena Murray, the war correspondent.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Really?’
‘Really. She’s his type.’
‘Not yours?’
‘Not mine. You’re mine.’
‘What—bossy and inquisitive and never knowing when to back off?’
‘I love you,’ he said with a grin. ‘You can’t be that bad. That’s criticising my judgement. You wouldn’t want to do that.’
‘Of course not,’ she said with a chuckle, then she frowned. ‘Talking of inviting people to the wedding, we ought to go and tell Fliss and Tom and put them out of their misery.’
He smiled and drew her closer. ‘Later,’ he said. ‘If I know Tom, he’s got a vintage champagne on ice by now. It needs time to chill and, frankly, after the last few months, so do I, so come here and let me hold you.’
She went willingly, snuggling into his arms and falling asleep while his fingers curved protectively over his tiny daughter, feeling her stretch and kick beneath his hand.
A new beginning, a future, better than he could ever have dared to dream.
Ben closed his eyes, drew Meg closer still and watched over them while she slept…
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5830-6
HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO
© Caroline Anderson 2005
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, an
d have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
First published in Great Britain 2005
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