Bound by Their Babies

by Caroline Anderson

  That was unlike him. He was given to spontaneous gestures of affection, always had been, and he’d hugged her so often in the past few weeks, but tonight it was as if he knew they needed to keep their distance.

  Or so she thought, but then, when they were going up to bed, he paused on the landing and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Sleep tight,’ he murmured, his breath teasing her hair, and then went into his own room and shut the door maybe a little more firmly than usual.

  Then again, she might have imagined it, because the following morning he seemed to be back to normal, and the status quo was thankfully restored.

  * * *

  He went in before her to do the labour ward round, and she joined him on the prenatal ward after she’d dropped the children at nursery.

  Typically, because the previous two days had gone so well and they’d started to take it for granted, Zach was clingy and had to be prised off her, and Matilda threw herself down on the floor and screamed.

  ‘Just go, they’ll be fine,’ Caitlin said firmly, so she handed them over and fled, tears welling in her eyes.

  She knew Caitlin was right, but Zach’s little face—

  When she reached the ward, Jake took one look at her and frowned. ‘Em? Are you OK?’

  She sniffed and shook her head. ‘Not really. The kids didn’t want to go to nursery. Tilly screamed and Zach wouldn’t let go—’

  ‘Hey, hey, come here.’

  His arm curled around her, and he steered her into an office and shut the door. ‘Come on. They’re all right, you know that. They’ll be fine.’

  ‘I know, but I just felt so mean leaving them. They’re so little, Jake, and Zach’s just—’

  ‘Zach’s fine, and so’s Tilly. They’ll be all right, you’ll see. Caitlin’ll send you a text any minute now.’

  Her phone pinged in her pocket, and she pulled it out and gave a slightly damp laugh. ‘“Both fine,” she read. “M cried for thirty seconds and Z is having a cuddle and smiling.” And don’t say told you so.’

  ‘Told you so,’ he said, just for naughtiness, and with another hug, he left her to sort her face out and went back to the ward to wait for her.

  After they’d done the prenatal ward round she went to do a busy gynae clinic and he was in Theatre with an elective list with a couple of emergencies tacked on the end, and when they met up again they discharged Brianna Owen because her contractions had subsided and she was stable.

  They went their separate ways again, arranging to meet up for the labour ward round after his antenatal clinic, at the end of his day. Or at least, what was supposed to be the end of his day, because she was supposed to be on call that night and then working the following day, but he’d decided to take the night for her.

  ‘It’s easier than trying to convince Zach to have a bottle if he wakes at three in the morning and wants his mummy.’

  ‘He doesn’t often do that.’

  ‘Often enough,’ he said, and she felt guilty that he’d been disturbed.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, don’t be, he’s just a baby and he’ll grow out of it, but he was a bit sad this morning when you dropped him off and he needs his mummy to put him to bed. And don’t apologise for him, he’s a lovely little chap. He’s normally so sunny.’

  ‘I know, but he can be a bit of a nightmare in the night.’

  ‘Nobody’s perfect,’ he said, and then added with a grin, ‘Well, not many of us, anyway.’

  She gave him a look, and he patted her cheek and walked off chuckling, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘You look happy. Is it going well?’

  ‘Oh, hello, Ben. Yes, it is, touch wood. So far nobody’s howled with protest at having me instead of Jake, anyway.’

  ‘How are the kids, talking of howling with protest?’

  She laughed. ‘How did you guess? They chose this morning to have a paddy about nursery, but apart from that it seems to be going OK.’

  ‘Great. While I’ve got you here, Daisy’s been on at me to invite you both round for a meal. Do you want to have a chat with Jake and work out when would suit you?’

  ‘We were only talking last night about having you two and Nick and Liv. That might be easier, if you have a regular babysitter you trust, because Zach might get a bit funny with a stranger, and I don’t think Jake would want to leave Tilly so soon with someone she doesn’t know. Why don’t you all come round to ours?’

  Ours? Not Jake’s? Really?

  ‘Sounds good. I tell you what, talk to the others, see if you can come up with a date and we’ll go from there.’

  ‘Great. Right, I’d better go, I’ve got a few new admissions to check and we have to do another ward round before I leave. But I’ll talk to him later and get back to you.’

  * * *

  It was much, much later by the time he came home, because there’d been three emergency admissions and he’d been in Theatre or doing post-op checks until eleven.

  She was dozing on the sofa when he came in, and he flopped down beside her and stuck his feet up on the coffee table.

  ‘How’s tricks?’ he asked tiredly.

  ‘Fine. They both went down OK, they seemed fine at nursery and there wasn’t a tear in sight. Have you eaten? I saved you supper but it’ll need to go in the microwave.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I haven’t but I’m too tired to bother. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘I’m not worried. Stay there, I’ll get it. I’ve been asleep for hours.’

  He turned his head and watched her go as she wandered into the kitchen in those altogether too enticing pyjamas, with the predictable result. He obviously wasn’t tired enough, he thought disgustedly, and dragged himself to his feet and followed her.

  ‘I can do that—’

  ‘It’s done. Shut up and sit down, you’re fine. Drink?’

  ‘Oh—water, please. I feel as dry as a desert and I just know my phone’s going to ring.’

  He drained the glass, dug his fork into the pasta dish she’d reheated for him and rolled his head on his shoulders as he chewed.

  ‘Neck ache?’

  ‘Nah, I’ve just been crunched up in Theatre trying to stem a bleed. I’ll be fine.’

  He could feel her eyes on him. ‘Maybe we should share the nights? Because it’s not like either of us can lie in the following day, not with the children.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. There’s a question mark over one of the women in the labour ward, but the midwife in charge of her is red-hot, so I’m hoping I won’t have to go back in, but I’ve told her to ring me if there’s a problem.’

  He scraped the plate clean, pushed it away and rolled his shoulders, wincing.

  ‘Come here,’ she said, getting up and walking round behind him. He felt the warmth of her abdomen behind his shoulders, the soft press of her breasts against the top of his head—and the firm dig of her thumbs in his shoulder muscles.

  ‘Ow—ow! Ah—you’re evil. Oh, that’s good. Oh, yes, just there. Ouch—’

  ‘A long illness, bravely borne,’ she murmured sarcastically, but then she took hold of his head, rested it back against her and massaged the back of his neck with firm, upward strokes, tunnelling her fingers through his hair and working on his scalp muscles.

  ‘Oh, that is so good,’ he groaned. ‘I’d forgotten about your massage skills.’

  ‘Probably traumatic amnesia. Better?’

  ‘Much better. Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, just go to bed while you can.’

  ‘No point. I know she’ll ring.’

  ‘And if she doesn’t? Don’t be daft, Jake. Go to bed and grab some shut-eye while you have the chance.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. Only one problem.’

  ‘It’s upstairs?’

  �
�Exactly.’ He got to his feet, pulled her into his arms and hugged her wearily, his head propped against hers. ‘What’s it like to be so clever?’ he mumbled in her ear.

  ‘I thought you were the perfect one?’

  He gave a grunt of laughter and stepped away from her while he still could. ‘I wish. Right. Bed. And what do you bet me—?’

  Rolling his eyes, he pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket. ‘Hi, Kath. Do you want me to come in?’

  ‘No. She got up and walked round, and the baby shifted and we have a lovely healthy little boy, so unless anyone else needs you, you can go to bed.’

  ‘Oh, I love you. Thanks, Kath. I’ll see you later.’

  He slid the phone back into his pocket, grinned at Em and punched the air. ‘I’m off the hook. I get to go to bed. Yay!’

  ‘Right, well do it, then, before someone else gets in on the act.’

  ‘I will. I’ll just clean my teeth and I’ll be up. Thanks for the neck massage—and the supper. It was really tasty.’

  ‘Any time. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  She leant in and dropped a kiss on his cheek and he reeled her in for a hug, resting his head against hers again as he had before, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her body against his, too weak-willed to push her away. He was exhausted, but letting go of her meant losing all that warmth and softness, and he didn’t want to do that—

  ‘Jake, you’re falling asleep on your feet.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  She eased out of his arms and tilted her head to kiss his cheek, just as he turned towards her. Their lips collided, and with a muffled groan he lifted one hand and cradled her head as his mouth found hers again.

  Her lips parted under his, opening to give him access to all that warmth and sweetness, his tongue seeking hers out and finding it—

  She pulled away a fraction and he followed her. ‘Em—’

  ‘Jake, no. Stop. We can’t do this.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s a bad idea, you know that. Come on, you need to go to bed. You’ve been up since the crack of dawn and you’re drunk with exhaustion.’

  Was he? Or was he drunk with the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her body, the promise of all that could follow?

  He dropped his arms and stepped back. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. Go to bed, Em. I’ll be up in a minute.’

  She headed for the stairs and he watched her go, her scent lingering in the air behind her. It would be so good to follow her up, to crawl into bed behind her and pull her back into his arms and fall asleep with her hair in his face and her body pressed against his, warm and soft and yielding—

  ‘Get a grip,’ he growled under his breath, and headed for the shower room and then his own bed. Not that there was any way he’d sleep, with her scent in his nostrils and the feel of her still imprinted on his body...

  He crawled onto the mattress, hauled the duvet up over himself and was asleep in seconds.

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE DIDN’T GET any more calls that night, and she managed to get out of the house without seeing him. She left him a note on the kettle telling him to ring her if there was anything he wanted her to follow up on, and he called shortly after she arrived at work.

  ‘Em, hi. Everything OK?’

  ‘Yes, as far as I know. I’m just heading up to the ward. I’ll let you know if I’m worried about anything.’

  ‘OK.’ There was a pregnant pause, then a sigh. ‘Look, Em, I’m sorry about last night. I wasn’t really thinking.’

  No, neither was she, but she’d done nothing but think ever since—about him, about the feel of his mouth on hers and his body pressed against her, about what they might have been doing, about why it was a bad idea when at the time it had felt like such a good one...

  ‘Jake, you’re fine, forget it,’ she said softly. ‘I haven’t given it a minute’s thought.’ More like hours, but he didn’t need to know that and it was best to forget it.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Sure. Right, I’m on the ward now. I’ll ring you if I need to.’

  ‘OK. Take care. I’ll talk to you later.’

  She slid the phone back into her pocket, pasted a smile on her face and walked into the ward.

  * * *

  After she’d followed up on his emergency admissions she spent the rest of the day at work settling more into her routine and getting to know the staff better.

  She rang him a couple of times to confirm a treatment protocol for a patient with epilepsy in the high-risk prenatal ward, but they kept it professional and by the time she’d finished writing up the notes she’d managed to convince herself that it was just a blip and they’d be fine about it.

  Luckily the day’s work was mostly fairly standard—a forceps delivery, a C-section for a woman too exhausted to continue and a query appendix that turned out to be a ruptured ectopic sent up from the ED.

  She discharged three post-op gynae patients and a C-section, did a stack of admin in between ward rounds and went home to find Jake lying on the sitting room floor covered in cushions with Matilda and Zach bouncing on him, although Zach was getting quite a lot of help from Jake.

  She stood in the doorway and laughed at him, and he turned his head, a wry smile on his face.

  ‘Hurrah, it’s the cavalry,’ he said, ending on an ‘oof’ as Matilda landed on him a bit more firmly.

  She stifled a chuckle.

  ‘Would you like rescuing?’

  ‘I’d love rescuing. They’re monsters, aren’t you, kids? Little horrors!’

  ‘I not a little horror! I a fairy princess!’ Tilly said indignantly, and tried to straighten her drooping rainbow-coloured wings. They were upside down and bent out of shape, but Tilly didn’t seem to care, and Emily whipped out her phone and took a photo.

  ‘That’s one for the family album,’ she said with a laugh, and then met Jake’s eyes startled amber eyes as she realised what she’d said.

  ‘Sorry—I didn’t mean that the way it sounded—’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said softly, his eyes warming, his gaze tender. ‘And actually, I thought it sounded rather good.’

  It did. Very good. Rather like the kiss. Too good to be true?

  * * *

  Emily looked as stunned as he’d felt, and then a little awkward as she lapsed into silence, her eyes sliding away from his as if she couldn’t look at him any longer. A slip of the tongue, or a deeper, hidden meaning?

  He didn’t know, but what with that and the kiss last night, he was suddenly finding it really hard to breathe.

  ‘Can you take the baby?’

  She lifted Zach off his chest and he rolled to the side, dumping Matilda in a pile of cushions and fairy wings as he unravelled himself and stood up.

  ‘So, how was your day?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice normal and failing miserably.

  Her laugh sounded a bit off-kilter, too. ‘Less fun than yours, I’d say. Certainly no fairy wings. Where on earth did you find them?’

  ‘Oh, a shop in town. She’s been nagging me for weeks. I finally did something about it. Right, little ones, time to get ready for bed, I think,’ he added, clutching at normality.

  ‘Want Em.’

  He blinked at Matilda. ‘Darling, she’s only just got back from work and she wants to put Zach to bed.’

  ‘You put Zach. Want Em.’

  ‘Why don’t I put them both to bed?’ Emily suggested, and he shrugged and gave in.

  ‘OK, if you’re sure. I’ll start cooking our supper.’

  ‘What, rip the film off the top of a ready meal and bung it in the oven?’ she teased, but he didn’t rise to it because it was so often true and anyway, he didn’t feel like banter. Not now, not after that...

  ‘No, sorry, you’re going to
have to put with my own concoction,’ he said, without elaborating, and went into the kitchen, leaving her to it.

  He’d bought the ingredients for a stir-fry, and he spent the next half-hour chopping and shredding and slicing, all the time listening with one ear for the sound of her voice reading a story, singing a lullaby, crooning softly to the baby as he fell asleep in the bedroom overhead.

  One for the family album?

  In his dreams...

  * * *

  He left early for work the next day, and once the children were up and dressed and breakfasted, she asked Matilda what she wanted to do.

  ‘Ducks,’ she said promptly. ‘And playground.’

  ‘OK.’ It seemed like a sound enough plan, and although the forecast wasn’t great it was shaping up to be a lovely day, so they piled coats and wellies and a bucket and spade into the buggy just in case and headed off to the little park around the corner.

  They fed the ducks a sprinkle of bird food—not bread, because that wasn’t good for them or the pond—and then she spotted some new baby ducks that must only recently have hatched.

  ‘Oh, look, Tilly—baby ducks! Shall we count them? One, two, three—’

  ‘Five, ’leven, two.’

  OK, so Tilly couldn’t count yet, but she had fun trying and they finally established that there were five fluffy brown ducklings paddling around with their mother. Zach squealed and flapped with excitement, and Matilda crouched down with her bottom stuck out and her hands on her knees, fairy wings askew, watching them intently while Emily looked on with a smile.

  She heard the wheels of a buggy approaching, then it stopped right beside her. ‘Emily.’

  It was a statement, not a question, and she turned to look at the pretty dark-haired woman who’d spoken her name. She had a baby boy a little younger than Zach asleep in a buggy, and she was smiling and holding out her hand.

  ‘I’m Daisy Walker—Ben’s wife.’

  She took the outstretched hand. ‘Hi—how...?’

  ‘The double buggy? I’ve walked a few hundred miles behind it, I’d know it anywhere! And anyway, I know Matilda. It’s lovely to meet you at last. I’ve heard lots about you, all good before you ask!’