The Firefighters Baby

by Roberts, Alison

  At least this search was satisfyingly brief.

  ‘There you go,’ he told his daughter. ‘Perseverance pays off, kid. Cinnamon. And vanilla. They both smell nice.’ He eyed the tin of formula on the kitchen bench but Megan seemed happy enough for the moment to be ferried back and forth by a man on a mission.

  ‘Dammit,’ Jason exclaimed a short time later. ‘We’ve got a wineglass but no wine. Do you think juice might do instead?’ Changing arms to ease the ache of tired muscles, Jason’s eye caught the tin of formula again. ‘I’d better feed you in a minute, Peanut, hadn’t I?’ Big, blue eyes stared up at him. ‘Laura won’t enjoy her soak if she has to listen to you whingeing because I haven’t fed you.’

  Megan wasn’t whingeing right now. She appeared to be listening intently to the deep, soft voice that had become much more familiar over the last hour. Her gaze was still fastened on Jason’s and he braced himself as her face crinkled and her lips moved. But no cry emerged from that rosebud mouth. The facial contortion continued and suddenly, totally unexpectedly, Jason found that the tiny person he was holding was smiling at him.

  It was Megan’s first smile and it was for him.

  She liked him.

  A warm glow started somewhere deep within Jason and then grew and grew until it felt like something was about to burst. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life.

  Dammit! Why wasn’t Laura here to see this? Megan was smiling. The corners of her lips curled up even more and her lips parted to make her look as though she was silently and joyously laughing. Jason felt so ridiculously pleased and proud that he didn’t give a damn that his eyes were prickling. He wanted to cry. Or laugh. Or shout out the news. Instead, he did something that seemed far more appropriate.

  He smiled back.

  Laura walked swiftly, pushing herself despite the physical weariness that made her bones feel like lead. Her spiritual weariness was far more of a concern. This was never going to work. OK, she’d established a friendship with Jason. She’d seen evidence that he could find her attractive. She might even succeed in winning herself a place in his life, but where would that leave her? Precisely where she would have ended up with John, that’s where. Making all the effort and putting up with all the crap because she wanted the relationship to work so much more than he did.

  Jason might only be having a beer and watching television because he felt like it now, but it would only be a matter of time before he was off to the pub with his mates or having an affair, like John, because that took his fancy, and if Laura wanted to keep him around she’d just have to deal with it.

  Escaping the empty shell that her relationship with John had become had led to a vow that she would never again become involved with anyone who didn’t love her as much as she loved them. Yet here she was, trying to set herself up with an even more heartbreaking arrangement. Jason wouldn’t just expect his dinner on the table or a bit of company on the odd night he chose to stay at home. He’d want his child raised as well. A child who was rapidly claiming a large portion of the love Laura was only too ready to bestow.

  Why can’t love be more equally distributed? Laura directed the silent question to the postbox at the end of Crighton Terrace as she finally neared the end of her long walk. She picked up her pace a little until she got past the empty and semi-derelict two-storied house on the corner. All that Laura wanted was to receive the same kind of love she was so capable of giving. Was that too much to ask?

  Too much to ask of Jason Halliday, she decided bitterly as she opened the back door of his house. His idea of love was probably giving a girl a good time in bed. He didn’t have a committed bone in his body when it came to women, and he probably didn’t need to. With his looks and personality he wouldn’t face any problem finding someone prepared to do the running to make things work when he finally decided to settle down.

  But it wouldn’t be her. No way. She wouldn’t marry Jason if he—

  Her passage into the living room was abruptly halted by what she saw in front of her. Jason lay flat on his back on the couch. One arm and one leg were draped over the side and an almost empty baby’s bottle rested on the floor close to the dangling hand. He was deeply asleep, his lips slightly parted, his hair tousled and his features softened enough to make him look years younger. Vulnerable, almost.

  Megan lay sprawled on top of her father, stomach to stomach, and she was also soundly asleep. There was no danger of her rolling off, though. Jason’s arm was almost completely encircling the infant and he had his thumb safely anchored in a belt loop of his jeans.

  Laura sighed softly, overwhelmed by the wave of pure love the scene evoked in her. Any good intentions she had to extricate herself from giving more than she could ever hope to receive flew out the window. There was no way she could walk away from either of them. Not when she felt like this. Whatever happened, she was going to see this through as far as it went.

  Quietly, Laura moved further into the room, planning to bypass the couch and head for the bathroom for a much-needed shower. But Jason’s eyelids flickered open.

  ‘Hey…you came back!’

  ‘Yeah.’ Laura spoke as softly as he had. ‘I’m a masochist.’

  ‘Guess what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Megan smiled at me.’

  ‘Really?’ Laura saw the delight in Jason’s sleepy grin and that wash of emotion she had experienced on entering the room returned with renewed strength. ‘That’s so cool! I wish I’d seen it.’

  ‘You should have been here,’ Jason admonished. Then he seemed to wake up enough to remember why she hadn’t been there, and his expression held a mixture of apology and relief. ‘At least you’re back now.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Laura didn’t want to spoil the moment by discussing her walkout. ‘I need a shower. Are you OK with Megan for a bit longer?’

  ‘Take as long as you like.’ Jason closed his eyes and smiled. ‘Enjoy,’ he added rather smugly.

  Laura had taken the tone to be self-congratulatory because he was minding the baby, but she changed her mind as she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

  The bath was full, almost to the brim, and sparse blobs of bubbles like small clouds floated amongst faint tendrils of steam. It smelt vaguely like some sort of pudding her mother used to make and her awareness of the scent was heightened by the dim, flickering light emanating from the depths of a hollow, orange candle. Beside the candle was something that was her final undoing. A stemmed wineglass, filled with what looked suspiciously like beer.

  It was no reason to cry. This was a present—an opportunity to relax and indulge herself—and here she was, standing on the tiled floor with tears streaming down her face. Laura scrubbed the tears away with her hand and managed a wobbly smile as she pulled off her clothes. Jason had done this for her, and he must have used virtually the whole time she’d been out to do it because it looked like he’d cleaned the bathroom before creating her treat. He must have been thinking about her the whole time, possibly coping simultaneously with a grizzly baby, and he had harnessed clearly limited resources to produce something that was purely for her benefit.

  John would never have done something like this for her, not in a million years. Jason cared. He really cared, and that was far more meaningful than any sexual awareness she might be able to stir in him. Laura climbed into the tub and lay back, resting her head on the rim and allowing a few more tears to wash away the despair she had carried with her on her solitary walk. She had been wrong. It could work out between her and Jason. And even if it didn’t, she would never forget this bath for as long as she lived.

  The call to an unconscious woman on the next night duty became the first strong reminder when Laura and Tim were led by a panicked husband into the bathroom of the patient’s house.

  ‘It’s my wife, Irene,’ he was explaining as he rushed ahead of them down a narrow hallway. ‘She was just having a soak in the bath and then I heard this almighty crash and came in to find her
lying on the floor with blood everywhere. I thought she was dead!’

  Irene Spelling wasn’t dead but she wasn’t feeling at all well. She was also highly embarrassed by the ineffective covering a towel was affording.

  ‘Do you know what happened?’ Laura asked.

  ‘I came over all funny when I stood up. Next thing I know I’m lying on the floor and my head hurts.’

  A superficial scalp wound caused by grazing her head on the corner of the vanity unit had produced copious amounts of blood, but the facecloth Irene was pressing to the area had it under control for the moment. Laura was more concerned by potential causes for the faint.

  ‘How are you feeling now, Irene?’

  ‘Like I’m going to be sick. And there’s a funny ringing noise in my ears.’

  ‘Let’s lie you down,’ Laura directed. ‘And lift your legs a bit.’ Irene’s husband assisted by sitting on the toilet seat and holding her feet on his lap. ‘Can you get a blood pressure, please, Tim?’

  Tim was fitting an oxygen mask on Irene’s face. He reached for the blood-pressure cuff as Laura started peeling the backs off the electrodes needed to get more information about what was happening in Irene’s cardiovascular system.

  The bath had been a hot one—Laura could feel the steamy heat surrounding them. Just as well it didn’t smell like a pudding, Laura thought fleetingly, or she might have trouble concentrating on what she was supposed to be doing.

  The heat of the water and surrounding air could have caused a level of vasodilation enough to interfere with the normal mechanisms that adjusted blood pressure to posture. The reduction in blood supply to the heart had a knock-on effect of reducing supply to the brain, and was a common enough cause for fainting, but Laura needed to rule out any more serious cause such an underlying cardiac condition or reaction to medications.

  ‘Your ECG looks fine,’ she reassured Irene and her husband a minute later. ‘You don’t have any heart problems that you know of, do you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Anything else you’re being treated for?’

  ‘No. Well…’ Irene looked embarrassed again. ‘I’m taking some of that new stuff that’s supposed to help you lose weight.’

  ‘BP’s 100 over 50,’ Tim reported.

  ‘That’s a bit on the low side,’ Laura explained. ‘But it’s only to be expected if you’ve had a fainting episode. Do you know what your blood pressure normally is?’

  ‘I think it’s a bit high. My doctor told me it was another reason I needed to lose weight. I am trying. I’ve hardly eaten anything today, have I, Colin?’

  ‘No,’ her husband confirmed. ‘Just rabbit food.’

  ‘That might have been a contributing factor to the faint,’ Laura said. ‘We’ll check your blood sugar and then I’ll have a look at where you hit your head.’ Irene had ‘come over all funny’ well before she’d come into contact with the vanity unit and she appeared quite alert now so a head injury was unlikely to have been responsible for the period of unconsciousness, but Laura intended to make a thorough check.

  Fifteen minutes later, both she and Tim were satisfied that Irene was fine.

  ‘I’m feeling ever so much better,’ she informed them.

  ‘BP’s up to 130 over 90,’ Tim reported.

  ‘Blood sugar’s normal.’ Laura dropped the small finger-pricking device into the sharps container. ‘And everything else checks out. There’s really no need for us to take you into hospital, Irene, but if you or Colin need any more reassurance then we’re happy to do so.’

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ Irene insisted. ‘All I want to do is get dressed and have some supper.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Tim smiled. ‘We’re about due for some supper ourselves.’

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea before you go?’ Irene pushed her arms into the dressing-gown Laura was holding for her. ‘I’ve got a lovely banana cake that my daughter brought round this afternoon.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you but we’ll have to get back on station,’ Laura said with a smile.

  Tim caught Laura’s eye as she coiled the lead wires and slotted them back into a pocket of the life pack. ‘With a bit of luck there might even be a muffin left for us.’

  ‘Oh, take the cake with you,’ Irene exclaimed. ‘I shouldn’t be eating it anyway and Colin hates banana cake.’

  ‘No, you deserve a treat after this,’ Laura said. ‘You enjoy it.’

  ‘But I’ll only eat one piece and the rest will be wasted. I’d really like you to take it.’

  ‘Please, do,’ Colin added. ‘By way of thanks. We’re very grateful for your help. I was scared stiff. I had no idea of what to do other than call for an ambulance.’

  ‘We’re happy to help. We shouldn’t accept cake.’

  ‘Wow—cake! You shouldn’t have!’

  Jason, Stick, Cliff and Bruce eyed the offering that Laura carried into the commonroom.

  ‘Hey—you’ve already eaten some.’

  They had left a segment with Irene by way of a compromise. The rest of the banana cake was clearly going to be appreciated immediately by everyone on Green Watch at Inglewood station. Or it would have been, if not for the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

  ‘Maxine!’ Jason put down the plate he was holding and stepped out of the cake queue. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Came to see you, of course.’ The willowy redhead sounded less than happy. ‘I want to know why you’re avoiding me, Jason Halliday.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Jason’s smile was one of his most winning and Laura’s heart fell. He’d smooth over the troubled waters and she could just see herself babysitting Megan while he went out to make things up with Maxine.

  ‘Here.’ Stick could see the banana cake disappearing with alarming rapidity. ‘You take Peanut.’ He shoved the bundle he held into Jason’s arms. ‘She’s your kid after all.’

  Laura could swear that Stick flashed her the ghost of a wink. He must have known what effect his action and words would have. Laura gained a rather savage sense of satisfaction from the expression on Maxine’s face, but Stick didn’t seem to have finished stirring troubled waters. He grinned as Megan produced noisy evidence of the biological functions occurring in her small body.

  ‘Hey, Jase. She’s inherited your talent for burping and farting at the same time.’

  The rest of Green Watch found Stick’s observation hilarious.

  ‘There goes the court case,’ Bruce commiserated. ‘That’s even more of a genetic link than the colour of her eyes, mate.’

  Jason looked as though he was desperately hoping the ground would open beneath his feet. Megan was looking a lot happier than she had a moment ago and was beaming approval at her father.

  ‘Um…Jason?’

  ‘Yeah?’ Jason’s smile looked glued on now but he was still bravely standing his ground.

  ‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’

  The rest of Green Watch now seemed totally absorbed in their supper. ‘Great cake,’ Bruce announced. ‘Isn’t it, Stick?’

  ‘The best.’ Stick nodded. He glanced sideways at Jason and then caught Cliff’s eye and winked.

  ‘Jason?’

  Stick wasn’t being quite as successful as the others in hiding his interest in the building confrontation but Laura projected what she hoped was a calm indifference.

  ‘I think I’ll have some cake, too,’ Laura murmured. ‘It does look nice.’

  ‘You need it,’ Stick told her a little too loudly. ‘You’re fading away, Laura. Being a mum is taking it out of you.’

  ‘I wish.’ Laura grinned. She could appreciate the efforts of these guys as they closed a protective rank around her and tried to let her know that they considered her to be just as good as the gorgeous redhead now taking centre stage in the commonroom. But Stick did have a point. Her clothes were definitely feeling a lot looser than they had a week or two ago. Her pleasure in someone else noticing was heightened by the glare she could feel coming from Maxine.r />
  ‘So, you’ve been “busy”, have you, Jason?’ Maxine used long, French-manicured nails to make the quotation marks in the air. ‘I’d say you were pretty busy nine months ago or so as well.’ She narrowed her eyes at Laura. ‘With her?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Jason assured her. Then he blinked. What was so ‘of course’ about it, anyway?

  Lightning-fast thoughts flashed through his brain. Yes, Laura wore glasses but now that he had noticed the colour of her eyes they seemed more like frames that accentuated rather than hid them. Yes, she was short and Jason had always avoided short women because they made him feel like a father figure, but Laura was anything but childish. She could be bossy but she was never bad-tempered without a jolly good reason and, what’s more, she was bloody good at her job. Yes, she was nothing like as skinny as Maxine, but he’d actually been serious when he’d told Laura he might try some curves next time. And on top of everything else, he simply liked Laura. Right now, it seemed that she had more going for her than Maxine did.

  ‘Laura’s a friend,’ he explained. ‘A very good friend. And she’s living with me right now to help look after Megan.’

  ‘Megan?’

  ‘My daughter.’ There was an unmistakable note of pride in Jason’s voice and his colleagues exchanged meaningful glances over their slices of cake. ‘Here, would you like to hold her?’

  ‘Not in this lifetime,’ Maxine said sweetly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a baby, Jason?’

  ‘But I didn’t have a baby,’ Jason said. ‘Not until last week.’

  ‘I’ve spoken to you since last week.’ Maxine looked confused but then licked her lips and shook her tumble of tresses into place. ‘You still could have told me.’