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Reunited by Their Secret Daughter

Page 2

by Emily Forbes


  How could she forget him when she was reminded of him every day? Every time she looked into her daughter’s eyes.

  She’d tried to forget and she’d tried to convince herself she hadn’t been in love with him. If anything, her experience with Xander was just more proof that everlasting love was not meant for her.

  She had her daughter, her miracle, her precious Lily. That would have to be enough.

  She left Lily’s night light on and the door ajar as she slipped out of the room while her mind continued to wander. If she’d realised the consequences of their affair would she have been more cautious?

  She loved her daughter and she had absolutely no regrets about having her. She was always going to keep the baby—her mum had raised three kids with minimal help and Chloe knew she could raise one. She had never considered giving Lily up. She had no regrets about the choices she had made but she did sometimes wonder about a different future.

  Maybe the fact that Esther and Carly were both about to settle down and join the ranks of the happily married was making her reassess her own life. Maybe she did need to get out on the dating scene. Maybe she would like some company. Now that Lily was three maybe Chloe’s life would calm down, perhaps she would get some time to herself, a day that wasn’t all consumed by motherhood and her career. Perhaps there would be some time for her to have a social life beyond an occasional drink or dinner with Carly and Esther. Nothing serious—casual dating would be fine. She wasn’t going to dream of anything more than that. She and Lily were fine on their own and she wasn’t prepared to settle for anyone ordinary. It was better to be single than to be with someone who wasn’t perfect for her. And for Lily.

  Still she wondered if Xander could have been that person.

  She had been on a few dates since Lily had been born but no one had lived up to her memory of Xander. She was sensible enough to realise that her memory may have altered over the years. She was remembering all the good things, looking at him through rose-tinted glasses, but he couldn’t be perfect. Four weeks just hadn’t been long enough for her to get annoyed by his flaws.

  But what if she had found him?

  Where would they be now?

  She shook her head. She couldn’t survive on ‘what ifs.’ Even if she’d found him, he might not have been the person she wanted him to be. They’d had amazing chemistry but who knew if that would have been enough to sustain a happy, long-term relationship. She was certainly none the wiser.

  She was sure there was a simple explanation to Xander’s apparent disappearance but, whatever it was, she’d never been able to find him and now, here she was, almost four years later, still single, and Lily was still without a father.

  * * *

  Should she let her girlfriends set her up? Chloe wondered as she hurried through A&E to fetch another bag of saline. Was that the answer?

  The idea of going on a date wasn’t completely unappealing but the logistics of it wasn’t as simple. Most days after a long shift at work and then coming home to a toddler, she barely had the energy for housework. She couldn’t imagine having the energy to get ready and dressed up for a date.

  She returned to the treatment cubicle and her patient, pushing all thoughts of dating aside.

  ‘All right, Penny, this should help you feel better,’ she said as she connected the bag of saline to the drip.

  ‘Can you tell me again what the doctor said is wrong with me?’ Penny asked.

  ‘You have a condition called hyperemesis gravidarium,’ Chloe told her as she updated Penny’s chart. ‘It’s a medical term for severe morning sickness that unfortunately doesn’t just hit you in the morning. I know you feel awful and while it can be serious it’s not life-threatening and it will pass.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘It’s usually much better by about halfway through your pregnancy.’

  ‘That’s another three months away,’ Penny groaned, and reached for the bowl and proceeded to vomit again. She’d presented to A&E in the late afternoon, badly dehydrated, having vomited all day.

  Chloe held Penny’s hair back from her face and took the bowl from her when she finished, swapping it with a cool, damp flannel.

  ‘Is there anything I can do to make it stop?’ Penny asked.

  ‘Some expectant mums find that drinking your food instead of eating it can help,’ said Chloe. ‘Making shakes and smoothies for example and a diet high in protein and carbohydrates is better than a fatty diet. Ginger and vitamin B6 can also help.’

  Scans had shown that Penny was pregnant with only one baby and blood tests hadn’t detected a virus or anything else untoward. She had low blood pressure and a rapid pulse but the nausea and dehydration were the main concern.

  ‘Does the vomiting harm the baby?’

  ‘Vomiting itself isn’t harmful but it is important not to ignore the symptoms. If you’re unable to keep food down, then you’re not getting the nutrition you need and neither is the baby and sometimes this can cause a low birthweight. You do need to take care of yourself.’ Chloe didn’t want to frighten Penny unnecessarily but it was important to stress that she needed to monitor her condition. ‘A lot of pregnant women with this condition find they need regular fluid top-ups to combat the dehydration. Anti-nausea medication as well and, very occasionally, hospital admission. I’m going to give you the details for the Early Pregnancy Unit here at the hospital. It’s open every day during office hours. That’s the place to go if you’re feeling unwell. You’ll get seen faster than here in A&E and you’re less likely to pick up any bugs. I think you should pop in there for a check-up in the next day or two as they will be able to suggest some strategies to help you through this.’

  Chloe pulled a notebook from the pocket of her scrubs and wrote down the phone number and details for the EPU as well as the scientific term for Penny’s diagnosis. As she tucked it into Penny’s bag the A&E manager stuck her head into the cubicle.

  ‘Chloe? The air ambulance has called for a midwife. Can you go with them?’ Shirley asked. ‘I’ll reassign your patient.’

  Chloe nodded. ‘Penny’s notes are up to date. She’s all set for the moment.’

  Chloe was one of three midwives who worked with the Air Ambulance Service on an as-needed basis. The service had their base on the top floor of the Queen Victoria Hospital with a rooftop helipad, and Chloe had applied for a position at the hospital specifically to work with the service. She loved the work and wished she could do it full time but that would mean doing general nursing and not midwifery. She didn’t want to give that up so this was the compromise; she felt it gave her the best of both worlds.

  She threw her gloves into the bin and hurried to the lift, not wanting to waste time. Protocol dictated that the crew would aim to take off within four minutes of receiving a call.

  She got out one flight before the roof and stepped into the pair of orange overalls that were handed to her. She zipped them up over her scrubs and ran up the stairs and out onto the roof. She jogged across to where the helicopter sat on the helipad, its rotors turning. She ducked her head instinctively even though she wasn’t tall enough for the blades to hit her and climbed into the chopper and took her seat. Neil, one of the two fire officers on deck, slid the door closed behind her.

  She reached up and unhooked a helmet that was hanging above her head. She tugged the elastic band that tied her unruly curls into a ponytail lower down on her neck so she could pull the helmet on. Sitting opposite her was Rick, one of the service’s paramedics.

  She hadn’t been called for a job in over a month and she felt the familiar thrill of nervousness and anticipation as she fastened her helmet strap and reached for her harness. She worked quickly, not taking the time to glance at the other seat where one of the doctors would be sitting, as she knew the pilot was waiting to lift off.

  ‘Chloe, this is Dr Alexander Jameson.’ She slid one arm into her harness
as she heard Rick introduce her to a new doctor. ‘He’s covering for Eloise while she’s off after her knee surgery.’

  Chloe felt a shiver down her spine and her heart rate increased even as she told herself she’d misheard. She must have misheard. She’d been thinking about Xander and must have imagined Rick had said his name because why would he be here? She kept her head down, taking longer than usual to click her harness together.

  ‘He’s just come down from Wales.’

  Chloe breathed out. He was Welsh. Not Australian. It wasn’t him.

  But when she lifted her head she was looking directly into a pair of familiar grey eyes.

  It was him.

  Xander.

  Her vision blurred as everything around her shifted. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear her vision, but when she opened them she found Xander still looking straight back at her.

  His eyes ensnared hers and held her motionless and she felt the air rush from her lungs as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

  She stared at him. At the helmet that covered his head but not his perfect oval face with its angular, high cheekbones. At his full lips that were outlined by designer stubble and at his forehead that was slightly creased. She remembered that expression; so often serious, he usually looked either like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders or was deep in thought.

  She wanted to reach over and smooth the crease from his brow.

  His grey eyes, which still held a trace of sadness, were wide, framed by thick, dark blond lashes, and they stared straight into her soul.

  How could she have forgotten how gorgeous he was?

  She was immediately transported back to a hot Australian day, to the first time she saw him. He had the same effect on her today as he’d had then. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t stop staring at him. From the moment she’d first laid eyes on him almost four years ago she’d fallen hard and she could feel herself tumbling again.

  How could she have forgotten the intensity of her feelings?

  She felt light-headed, dizzy, and was grateful that she was already sitting down.

  She had spent months trying to find him. Months thinking of all the terrible things that could have happened to him and here he was, apparently fit and well, sitting in her chopper.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘XANDER, CHLOE IS one of our on-call midwives.’ Rick was still introducing them as if they didn’t already know each other. As if Chloe’s world hadn’t just tipped on its axis.

  Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking. She tucked them into her lap, hoping Rick and Xander didn’t notice her reaction.

  ‘Chloe.’ He nodded. Once. Briefly.

  He didn’t deny that he knew her and he didn’t pretend that he was meeting her for the first time but he certainly didn’t appear too thrilled. He gave her nothing. She consoled herself with the fact that it wasn’t the time or place for a personal conversation.

  Would he be expecting one?

  He probably hadn’t thought about her once in four years. He would have no idea that she thought of him daily. He would have no idea of the impact he had made on her life.

  She studied him fleetingly, trying not to stare again. The orange jumpsuit that was the uniform for air ambulance medical staff was not the most flattering shade but Xander wore it well. His face was slightly tanned, making her wonder where else he’d been. Surely he hadn’t got a tan in Wales? His shoulders were still broad, his legs long and lean. He looked thinner than she recalled and she wondered if his hair, beneath the helmet, was as thick and blond as she remembered. Four years ago he had worn it swept to one side, always looking as if he’d just finished running his fingers through it.

  When she had left him behind, they’d had no plans for anything to go beyond a brief holiday fling. He had no idea that she’d spent months trying to find him.

  She pushed the memories of their time together aside, before they could come flooding back. She couldn’t afford to be swamped by the past. She had a job to do.

  She could be professional. She was professional.

  She’d waited years to speak to Xander. She’d given up on ever finding him. She could wait a few more hours to catch up.

  She turned to Rick, hoping he was the one with all the information about the job and focused on the task at hand.

  ‘Where are we headed?’ she asked.

  ‘Stabbing. Domestic dispute. Thirty-year-old woman, fourth pregnancy, thirty-eight weeks. Paramedics are on site. The woman and her partner are both being treated for injuries. The woman is in labour.’

  Chloe digested the scant information. Details about the job were relayed to them by the co-pilot, Jeff, and were usually minimal. She knew the job was likely to be complicated but that was normally the case. The air ambulance wasn’t called for simple incidents. But they wouldn’t be the first pre-hospital team at the scene and she knew more information would be forthcoming once they arrived. The team had plenty of emergency medicine experience between them and were used to gathering information as they went.

  Out of habit she checked the supplies stashed in the seat pockets beside her while her mind wandered.

  She could feel Xander’s eyes on her but she didn’t dare meet his gaze. She needed to collect her thoughts before she connected with him and checking the supplies gave her something to occupy her throughout the short flight.

  She needed to control her nerves. She concentrated on counting supplies, willing her hands to stop shaking. She was equal parts excited, nervous and worried.

  She needed to focus but she was dying to know what he was thinking. What had he been doing? How was he? Did he ever think of her? And what did his arrival mean for her? For them? For Lily?

  * * *

  It was only a few minutes before she felt the helicopter begin the left-hand bank turn and knew they had reached their destination. The pilot, Simon, would be giving Jeff a chance to identify a safe landing site.

  The house was easy to find; from her seat Chloe could see an ambulance, a police car and a police van parked out the front.

  The chopper landed on a vacant block that looked as if it may have once been a tennis court. A few kids scattered to the footpath as it descended but then hung around, mouths open and eyes wide, to watch the scene unfold.

  Rick slid the door open as the chopper touched down. Chloe reached for one of the kit bags only to find Xander had reached for the same one. Their hands touched and as Xander’s came to rest on top of hers she jerked hers away as if she’d been scalded. Her skin was on fire, her breathing rapid. She kept her gaze averted and picked up a second bag as she tried to get her nerves under control.

  She strode off, carrying the bag, quickly putting some distance between them. She needed to keep him out of her line of sight while she pulled herself together.

  Two policemen emerged as they approached the house and between them Chloe could see a man in handcuffs. The husband? The police officers pushed on his head, forcing him into the back of their van before slamming the door. She gave him a cursory glance as she walked past before following Rick into the property.

  The house was identical in appearance to several others in the street. A small front garden in need of some attention separated the house from the street. A short flight of steps led to the front door set in a narrow two-storey building. Chloe knew the floor plan—she’d been to many houses just like this one—and there was nothing to indicate from the outside what went on behind closed doors. Houses where domestic violence occurred could look like any other from the outside.

  The front door opened into a tight hallway. There was a staircase on their right, an empty lounge on the left. Looking past Rick’s shoulder Chloe could see a kitchen at the end of the hall. The air ambulance crew crowded into the small room.

  A woman lay on the floor. Her shirt was rip
ped and bloodied and blood pooled on the linoleum. Her skin was pale and her breathing laboured. Two paramedics knelt on either side of her and one looked up as the team entered the room.

  ‘This is Shania. Stab wound to the right chest.’

  The paramedics had cut through the woman’s top and the one who spoke was just finishing applying a dressing to the lateral side of the woman’s chest.

  ‘We’ve only just been able to get to her,’ the paramedic continued. ‘We had to wait for the police to subdue her partner.’

  ‘She is complaining of difficulty breathing. She’s hypoxic, absent air sounds,’ the other paramedic said as he lifted the stethoscope that he’d been holding against the woman’s chest. ‘Rapid heart rate and sharp stabbing chest pain. I think she may have a tension pneumothorax.’

  The air ambulance team all had their job roles emblazoned on the front left of their overalls. The paramedic holding the dressing reached into the kit that was beside her with her free hand and passed gloves to everyone before handing a stethoscope to Xander.

  ‘She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant. Fourth pregnancy.’ The paramedic repeated the information that the air ambulance team had already been given. ‘She’s in labour but we haven’t had time to assess that.’

  Xander knelt beside the woman. He placed the stethoscope against her chest and listened. Chloe was happy to defer to him. She knew there was no point asking the woman any questions about her labour until her chest pain was sorted. If she was having trouble breathing, she wouldn’t want to talk. The woman’s labour wasn’t the priority. A tension pneumothorax was life-threatening.

  Xander lifted his head. ‘I need a large-bore needle, fourteen-gauge,’ he said.

  The paramedic handed him an angiocath along with an alcohol wipe. Xander swept the wipe across the woman’s ribs and Chloe watched as he palpated for the intercostal space in the mid-clavicular line with slender fingers. His blond head was bent over the woman, the smooth skin on the back of his neck exposed as he leant over his patient.

 

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