Wish Upon a Star

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘Eat.’ He slid the pizza between her teeth and she gave a wan smile before obediently biting off a piece.

  ‘I met him in a chat room on the internet.’

  What was a beautiful woman like her doing, resorting to chat rooms on the internet? ‘And?’

  She shrugged. ‘His name was Peter and he seemed nice. We chatted about all sorts of things. He liked all the same things as me—it was uncanny really.’ She shook herself. ‘Anyway, we spoke on the phone a couple of times and then we arranged to meet. He told me he was thirty-eight, which is a bit old, I suppose, but I wasn’t worried.’

  ‘So you met?’

  ‘In a pub. He was good company and I…’ She flushed. ‘And I suppose the truth is that I was so lonely that I didn’t bother asking the questions I should have asked.’

  Jake felt more questions surge up inside him. Why was she lonely? Did she have no friends or family? With a determined effort he limited his question to one. ‘What happened?’

  ‘We went on a few dates and then, after about a month, he confessed that he’d lied to me and that he was actually forty-eight, not thirty-eight. I was really shocked. Not because of his age,’ she added hastily, ‘but just that he’d deceived me. I couldn’t understand why he just hadn’t told me the truth right from the beginning.’

  Jake gritted his teeth. ‘And why didn’t he?’

  ‘He told me that he was afraid I wouldn’t want to meet him if he’d been honest about his age.’

  Jake pushed the pizza box towards her. ‘Eat another slice before you tell me the rest.’

  ‘How do you know there’s more?’

  ‘Because it’s written all over your face.’

  She chewed slowly on the pizza and then sucked her fingers. ‘We went out for a few more weeks and he persuaded me…’ She blushed. ‘I mean, I was obviously willing and—’

  His appetite suddenly gone, Jake abandoned his slice of pizza. ‘He persuaded you to go to bed with him.’

  ‘Yes.’ She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes briefly. ‘I really want to tell you that I was madly in love with him but if I’m honest I think I was just incredibly lonely. And maybe that’s why I didn’t pick up any of the signs. I suppose I didn’t want to see them.’

  ‘What sort of signs?’

  ‘He always called me, I was never allowed to call him except on his mobile and that was usually switched off. We only ever met when he suggested it—’

  ‘Because he was married?’

  She stared at him, stricken. ‘Is it that obvious to you?’

  Clearly it hadn’t entered her head. ‘You’re giving me all the facts,’ he pointed out gently, ‘whereas you were only in possession of half of them and then only what he chose to give you.’

  She shook her head. ‘You’ve no idea how many times I’ve gone over and over it in my head, wondering why I missed the clues. It seems so obvious now, but at the time—’

  ‘Passion can be a powerful emotion.’

  ‘There wasn’t that much passion.’ A faint colour touched her cheeks. ‘In fact, I—’ She broke off and he frowned.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She gave him a smile that looked more than a little forced. ‘Anyway, the rest is pretty obvious. I discovered I was pregnant. He was completely horrified and suddenly produced a picture of his blonde wife together with four matching children. And that, as they say, is the end of the story.’ Her tone was light but he saw the pain in her eyes.

  ‘And how did you feel about being pregnant?’

  ‘At first panicky and very alone.’ She let out a long breath and gave a soft smile. ‘And then pleased. I know that sounds weird, but I was pleased. It just felt sort of… right. I can’t really explain it.’

  ‘He owes you maintenance at the very least.’

  ‘I don’t want anything from him.’ She sat up in her chair, dignified despite the pyjamas and the damp hair. ‘I’m used to managing on my own and that’s what I’ll do. The only difference is that now there are two of us to look after.’

  ‘So why the Lake District? What about your family?’ Why was she used to managing on her own?

  Shadows flickered across her pretty face. ‘I don’t have any family,’ she said flatly, standing up quickly and helping herself to a glass of water. She kept her back to him. ‘I decided to move right away from London so I picked the Lake District because I’ve had a picture of it in my mind for as long as I can remember. I always loved poetry at school.’

  ‘Poetry?’ His own mind was elsewhere, sifting carefully through information. There was something about her answer that didn’t seem quite right. Or rather, there was something about the way she’d answered that hadn’t felt right. He knew instinctively that she was lying. But why would she lie about family? Had they fallen out because she was pregnant? Was she embarrassed about her family?

  ‘Wordsworth.’ She turned to face him, still holding the glass of water. ‘He lived here, you must know that.’

  ‘Of course.’ He gave her an apologetic smile. ‘It’s just that I was born here and you tend to take it all for granted after a while.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Her tone was wistful. ‘Well, anyway, it sounded like an idyllic place. A good place to bring up a child. And not as expensive as London.’

  He wanted to know more about what had happened to her family.

  It was clear that, if her family were alive, they wanted nothing to do with her. Or she wanted nothing to do with them. Jake tried to imagine sticking a pin in the map and then deciding to build a life in a strange place. Tried to imagine what it would be like to have no roots. ‘All right, I can understand you choosing the Lake District, but what made you choose that terrible flat?’

  ‘It was all there was at the time and it was cheap,’ she said simply. ‘It’s just me on my own and when the baby comes I’m not going to be able to work for a while so I don’t want to waste any of it now. I’m going to look for something else soon. Somewhere I can move to after the baby is born.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘How much are you paying in rent?’

  She named a figure that seemed exorbitant for one dark room full of damp patches but he managed not to let his jaw drop. ‘Right. Move in with me and you can save even more money.’

  ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘I’m perfectly serious. Why not?’ He waved a hand around the house. ‘This place is far too big for me and you’d be much more comfortable here.’

  ‘No.’ Her voice cracked and something fierce flashed in her eyes. ‘I don’t need anyone’s help. And I don’t depend on anyone.’

  She was ferociously independent and he sensed that if he didn’t handle the situation with enormous care, she’d be back in her damp flat before he had time to dispose of the empty pizza box. He leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out and kept his voice calm and steady. ‘That’s good, because I don’t want you to depend on me. I’m just suggesting that you move into one of my spare rooms. You can pay me the same rent you’re currently paying your landlord.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ But he’d seen the brief hesitation and took instant advantage.

  ‘Why? You’re prepared to pay rent to a total stranger in return for a room.’

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘How is it different?’ His voice was gentle and he watched her face for her reaction. ‘Is it different because we kissed?’

  She put the glass down and looked away from him. It was clear that, given the chance, she would have pretended that it hadn’t happened. ‘It wasn’t a real kiss. It was Christmas Day, we were both lonely and—’

  ‘Attracted to each other?’

  Colour seeped into her cheeks. ‘You can’t possibly be attracted to me.’

  ‘No?’ The fact that she hadn’t denied her own attraction to him gave him more satisfaction than he would have believed possible. He wondered if he dared risk moving towards her but decided against it. ‘Why can’t I be attracted to you?’


  ‘I’m six months pregnant.’ With another man’s baby. The words hung in the air, unsaid, and he gave a patient smile.

  ‘And?’ His gaze didn’t shift from her face. ‘None of the books I studied said that pregnancy changes a person. You’re still you.’

  ‘A very fat version of me.’

  The fact that she suffered from all the usual insecurities suffered by pregnant women made him want to smile. ‘You’re a midwife. You should know that most men find their wives extremely attractive during pregnancy.’

  ‘I’m not your wife.’

  His desire to smile faded. He should have been relieved about that. Instead, he found himself thinking how amazing it would be if she was his wife. He’d have the right to snuggle up with her and kiss the frown away from her beautiful face. ‘That’s true, but—’

  ‘I’m not anyone’s wife and I don’t ever intend to be.’ The fire was back in her eyes. ‘I don’t want a family.’

  Was this just about the man who’d lied to her or was there something more to her comment?

  His eyes slid from her fierce gaze to her softly rounded abdomen. ‘I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but you’re about to become a family, whether you like it or not.’

  She placed her hand on her stomach in an instinctively defensive gesture. ‘That’s entirely different. I want this baby, but I don’t—’

  ‘There’s no such thing as a typical family, Miranda.’ He took a gentle nudge at her fears and prejudices. ‘Everyone creates something different. Family is a pretty generic word for people living together and trying to make it work in the best way they can.’

  ‘Is that right?’ There was a weary cynicism in her eyes that lit the fire of his own anger. He didn’t know what had caused the pain. He just knew that it shouldn’t be there.

  He decided to shift the subject slightly. ‘Are you going to carry on giving donations to your crooked landlord or are you going to give me the money instead?’

  ‘You’re serious about renting me a room?’

  He didn’t want to take her money at all, but he knew that there was no other way she’d even consider the possibility. ‘Very serious.’

  She was silent for a moment, her head tilted to one side, her damp hair sliding out of the confines of the clip and over one shoulder. ‘All right.’ She said the words slowly, as if she wanted to see how they sounded. ‘But I’ll move out when the baby arrives.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because you don’t need a screaming infant keeping you awake at night. And because I can’t lodge here for ever. I need to find somewhere permanent that I can turn into a home.’

  He realised with a stab of shock that he wanted her to make her home here. With him.

  Startled by his own thoughts, Jake lifted a hand to his forehead and rubbed at the frown lines. This was ridiculous. He’d only known her for a couple of days. The humour of the situation wasn’t wasted on him. He’d lost count of the number of women who had dropped hints about moving in with him. He’d developed various strategies for gently but firmly locking his door with the woman on the outside. So why did he suddenly want to lock the door and keep Miranda on the inside?

  ‘Fine.’ He knew that his thoughts would have her scurrying hard back to her damp-ridden, gloomy flat without a backward look so he kept them to himself. ‘Consider this a base until you find something more suitable.’

  ‘It’s very generous of you.’ She fiddled with her hands, clearly troubled by something. ‘I still don’t understand why would you do this for me.’

  ‘Does there have to be a reason?’

  ‘Isn’t there always?’ She gave a cynical laugh. ‘I’d be guessing at the sex aspect if it weren’t for the fact that I’m six months pregnant.’

  ‘There’s a great deal more to my motives than sex.’ His gaze was direct. ‘OK, I’m not going to lie to you, Miranda, because you’ve obviously heard enough lies. The truth is, I don’t exactly know why I want you to live here. There was something between us from the first moment we met on Christmas Day. When I woke up and found you gone I was frantic—frustrated. Then, when I discovered you at work, I felt light-headed until you stood up and I saw that you were pregnant. I’ve always had a rule that I never tread on another man’s toes, so I was prepared to walk away even though I felt as though something important had been snatched away from me.’

  Her dark eyes were huge. Wary. ‘Jake—’

  ‘Let me finish.’ He stood up and walked towards her. ‘Then I discovered that you’re on your own. That I’m not treading on anyone’s toes. And that changes everything, Miranda. Why do I want you to stay here? Because I can’t let you go, it’s as simple as that. I’m not sure what that means, but I’d like to find out.’

  ‘I’m six months pregnant.’

  ‘That doesn’t change the person you are.’

  ‘This is ridiculous, Jake—’

  ‘Is it?’ He saw the shock in her eyes and in a way it mirrored his own feelings because normally he backed away from women, didn’t pursue them. It was ironic, he reflected, that the first time he was truly interested in a woman she was six months pregnant, fiercely independent and wary of men. With a faint smile of self-mockery he recognised that some of the women he’d dated would view his current situation as nothing more than poetic justice.

  She stared at him and the tension in the room rose to agonising levels.

  ‘I—I don’t really know what you’re saying but I don’t want a relationship, Jake. Not with any man. I’m not trying to create a family.’

  He smiled. ‘As I said, you’ve got yourself a family, Miranda.’

  ‘Well, it’s just going to be me and the baby and that’s fine by me.’

  Why? he wondered to himself. Was it just because of the baby’s father or was there more to it than met the eye? Something to do with her own family.

  ‘You’re worn out,’ he said softly, deciding that it was best to end the conversation before he did something that might frighten her off. ‘Go to bed, Miranda. We can talk tomorrow.’

  ‘But you can’t just—’

  ‘Don’t complicate the simple,’ he advised. ‘You’re sleeping here tonight. Any more than that we can discuss at another time.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘I DON’T think you should drive me to work,’ Miranda said the next morning as she sipped the cup of tea Jake had made for her and nibbled on a piece of toast.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because people might notice and talk. And that would be embarrassing.’

  She’d been awake for most of the night, thinking about what he’d said. He hadn’t wanted to let her go. Even while most of her was backing off, deafened by alarm bells, a small part of her was shiny with happiness.

  ‘Coming from a woman who rides a heap of rust in public, I find it hard to believe that you care about what people think.’ There was laughter in his eyes and she looked away, wishing that his smile wasn’t so compelling.

  He smiled at everyone, she reminded herself firmly. It was just the kind of man he was. You felt as though the smile was only for you, but it wasn’t.

  She had to be careful. Very careful. It would be foolish and dangerous to allow herself to dream.

  ‘That’s entirely different.’ She put her empty mug into the dishwasher and then turned to face him. ‘I’m pregnant, Jake. People will make the same assumptions about me that you did, and I don’t want that. I don’t want people thinking that I’m dishonest or unfaithful or any of the other things people assume when they see a pregnant woman with a man who isn’t her husband.’

  He gave a shrug, his expression unconcerned. ‘As you told me on Christmas Day, what people see on the outside rarely resembles the inside so what does it matter? Let them gossip.’ Evidently indifferent to the views of others, he strolled towards the door and held it open for her. ‘Come on or we’ll be late.’

  She stared at him with mounting frustration. She was so used to taking charge of her own l
ife that she wasn’t sure how to deal with Jake.

  But she decided that this wasn’t worth an argument so she slid into the warmth and comfort of his car and squashed down the uncomfortable feelings bubbling up inside her. This was all wrong, she knew it was. What exactly did he want from her? And what exactly did she want from him?

  Nothing, was the short answer to that. There was no way she’d ever consider entering into a serious relationship and a fling wasn’t her style.

  She had no opportunity to ponder the question further because once they arrived on the labour ward they were so busy that they had no time to discuss anything except the professional.

  She felt as though she was on her feet all day and she was more than a little relieved to find Jake lounging by the doorway at the end of her shift, waiting to take her home.

  Deciding that this was definitely not the time to argue with him, she slid gratefully into his car, pushing aside the horrible suspicion that people were watching them.

  He was right. What did it matter? And why did she care? She, of all people, who knew only too well that outward appearances were entirely deceptive.

  He drove her to her old flat and stood while she cleared out the rest of her things. She carried them to his car and then hunted in her pocket for the keys.

  ‘I just need to deliver these back to the landlord.’

  ‘Tell me which flat he lives in. I’ll do it.’

  ‘I can—’

  ‘You’re tired. Why waste energy walking up the stairs again when all you have to do is point me in the right direction and I’ll do it for you?’

  ‘He lives in the flat directly beneath mine, but I need to give him notice and explain to him that—’

  ‘I’ll explain,’ Jake said, prising the keys from her fingers and heading back towards the building.

  She ought to have argued with him, she knew that. It wasn’t good to let people do things for you when you could perfectly well do it yourself. But he was right when he said that she was tired.

  It was only when he slid back into the car and dropped an envelope into her lap that she realised that she’d actually dozed off for a few minutes.