The Pregnancy Secret

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The Pregnancy Secret Page 12

by Maggie Cox


  ‘I believe that is his name.’

  ‘I honestly don’t think it’s any of your business…do you?’

  Caroline opened the door and went out, shutting it behind her.

  Cursing the fact that he wasn’t dressed—hardly fit to chase after her when he was wearing nothing but a towel—Jack forced his fevered brain to work overtime and think what to do next…

  The winter sun, shining powerfully through the back window of Caroline’s store room, illuminated the vivid display of colour that she’d been painting onto a canvas. Taking a moment to consider her handiwork, she allowed herself a triumphant pleased smile. She’d been finding out a lot about butterflies in the past couple of days, and the more she discovered about their symbolism and meaning—as well as their biological make-up—the more intrigued Caroline had become by them.

  It was the symbolism of transformation that had captured her interest the most. The caterpillar spun a cocoon in which to birth a new aspect of itself—then, when the time was right…after a time of what some might call spiritual waiting, it emerged into the light and a new beginning as a beautiful butterfly.

  Caroline had undertaken the painting as a gift she might give to Sadie. The shy, unconfident schoolgirl was blossoming into a woman…she was on the brink of falling in love, perhaps, and the future seemed bright. For a moment Caroline remembered that feeling of infinite possibilities in the world and felt her breath catch. But a strange thing was happening. Because the more she stroked paint onto the canvas, the more the bright colours inspired her imagination and made her hopes for her own future soar…and the more Caroline saw that the painting was also a gift to herself.

  She’d already decided that in the spring she would put both the house and the shop up for sale. ‘Infinite possibilities’ awaited her too, and she would use some of the money she made from the sales of her property to maybe explore some of them. She might even buy herself a round-the-world ticket…who knew?

  But what about Jack? The smile on her face faded slowly away as her thoughts turned to the one topic that put a hitch in her excited plans. When she’d left his hotel room yesterday she’d dragged her feet as she’d walked away, hoping…praying…that he might say something that would make her stop walking away from him…something that might herald even the tiniest ray of hope for them both. It hadn’t happened, and finally…finally…Caroline had had to tell herself that their relationship was irretrievably over. All she could hope was that Jack could go back to wherever he lived now and perhaps think of her with a little more forgiveness in his heart than he had previously extended to his memory of her. She didn’t think she could bear it if all his thoughts of her were negative ones.

  With her paintbrush hovering over a dazzlingly brilliant blue section of a butterfly, Caroline was taken aback by the jolt of fear that suddenly assaulted her. That scar on Jack’s chest was over his heart… Why hadn’t she realised that before? With a trembling hand she laid the sable-haired brush she was using down on the easel’s shelf and walked like someone in a trance out of the store room and back into the shop to find the telephone…

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘SOMEONE to see you, Mr Fitzgerald.’

  Frank Ryan, the site foreman, ambled over to Jack where he stood by the side of the house, examining some plans with his architect.

  ‘Who is it?’ Barely glancing up from the drawings that were occupying him, Jack frowned at having his train of thought interrupted.

  ‘Didn’t ask, guv’nor.’ Frank shrugged, as if to indicate it was none of his business. ‘He’s waiting for you over there.’

  He pointed to where the cement mixer chugged, on the paving stones leading up to the house, and Jack did a surprised double-take when he recognised Nicholas Brandon…Caroline’s doctor friend. Wearing an expensive-looking double-breasted pin-striped suit, he appeared both uncomfortable and on edge as he paced up and down, looking about as out of place in what was in effect a building site as a diamond brooch pinned to the shirt of a vagrant.

  ‘Give me a couple of minutes will you, Justin?’

  Handing over the plans to his architect—Jack made his way past the general melee of rubble and sand to greet his unexpected visitor.

  ‘What can I do for you?’

  It was a terse demand rather than a civil greeting. He snapped out the words as though barely able to spare the time to talk, even while his blue eyes weighed and assessed and weighed again. What did Caroline see in him? Jack thought resentfully. The man had a weak chin and shifty eyes. The thought of him even fantasising about Caroline—let alone touching her—was apt to make Jack feel ready to knock his head from his shoulders.

  ‘I’ve come to talk to you about Caroline,’ Nicholas began, clearly taken aback by Jack’s less than polite acknowledgement.

  Wrong answer, Jack concluded in silence, his resentment escalating.

  ‘What about Caroline?’

  ‘You should stay away from her. She was perfectly happy until you showed up again.’ Fingering the knot of his tie, Nicholas jerked his chin a little, as if to add emphasis to his advice. ‘You’ve caused her enough trouble as it is. Why did you come back here, Fitzgerald? Why didn’t you just stay wherever it is the devil took you? You made a bloody nuisance of yourself seventeen years ago when you were here, and caused her and her family untold grief!’

  ‘I have a suggestion for you, Dr Brandon. Why don’t you mind your own damn business and stay out of mine?’

  Feeling his spine tense, as though a steel rod had been jammed down his back to replace it, Jack knew his ire was well and truly provoked. He took exceeding umbrage at the fact that this man standing before him should even dare to raise the subject of Jack’s relationship with Caroline and what had happened in the past. His mercurial eyes directed a deliberately menacing glint.

  ‘Caroline is my business,’ Nicholas insisted. ‘She’s a good friend, and so was her father.’

  ‘If her father was a good friend of yours then I pity you.’

  ‘What do you mean by that? Charles Tremayne was a good, decent man, and I remember what you put him through,’ Nicholas responded, with self-righteous indignation.

  ‘Is that right?’

  Edging closer, Jack was satisfied that his superior height, breadth of shoulder and comparative youth were enough to intimidate the other man, even if his words didn’t help the message filter through. It gave him untold satisfaction to see Nicholas Brandon flinch.

  ‘Well…did your “good, decent” friend happen to tell you about the “untold grief” and hurt he caused his own daughter? No…I didn’t think so.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ the other man replied defensively, turning a little red in the face. ‘Charles loved Caroline! He would never have deliberately caused her pain. If you’re referring to her having the pregnancy terminated…it was for the best. When he told me what he’d decided I totally supported his decision. A pregnancy would have ruined her life at that point, and Charles knew you weren’t the sort of chap to stand by his daughter. You already had a bit of a reputation and it wasn’t an admirable one, Fitzgerald!’

  So this friend of Caroline’s…this pompous little weasel…had colluded with her father to make her have the abortion? A red mist was starting to come down over Jack’s furious eyes.

  ‘What the hell did you know about me that you thought you had the right to judge me…hmm? You, with your comfortable upper-crust existence, who probably never got your hands dirty or went hungry in your whole life! But that aside…you have the bloody bare-faced audacity to stand in front of me and tell me that you colluded with Caroline’s father to make her have that abortion? You both had the temerity to make that decision over our heads?’

  ‘Don’t try and tell me that you welcomed the idea of becoming a father!’ Nicholas’s tone was scornful. ‘You were probably grateful that we’d got you off the hook, so that you could disappear into the wide blue yonder, untroubled by your conscience, leaving Caroline to shoul
der all the blame!’

  Jack went cold as the grave. His eyes narrowing to burning blue chips of glittering glass, he stared the other man down as though his glance alone could render him dead.

  ‘Do you know how lucky you are to be still standing there in one piece? If it wasn’t for the fact that I really don’t think you’re even worth the trouble, I’d leave you in need of medical services for the rest of your natural life, Brandon. But then I guess if I descended to that I’d be as bad as Caroline’s father, wouldn’t I? At least my one redeeming quality is that I don’t get my kicks out of beating up defenceless women, like he did!’

  ‘Beating up defenceless wom—? What on earth are you talking about?’ Nicholas was looking about as nervous as a man could get, and there was genuine alarm in his gaze. ‘Charles didn’t hit women!’

  ‘The night Caroline went to him to tell him that she was pregnant, he hit her so hard he knocked her to the floor!’

  ‘Who told you such a despicable lie?’

  ‘Caroline told me herself. Do you really think that she would make something like that up? If you know her at all, then you know she doesn’t find it easy to lie…except maybe to protect those she loves. She had a bruise the size of a small country on her pretty face when she came to tell me she’d had the abortion. She told me she’d accidentally walked into a door. You know what the truth is, Brandon? We all let her down…her father, you, me…We make a fine bunch, don’t we?’

  The backs of his eyes burning with unshed tears, Jack threw the man a last pitying glance before striding back towards the house.

  She’d agreed to have dinner with Nicholas at a new Mexican restaurant that had recently opened in the high street. She hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of her request to see him, but when she’d rung and told him she needed to talk to him he’d insisted that he take her out to dinner, and he had been the one to suggest the venue. Quite honestly Caroline had been totally surprised by his choice. Nicholas was conservative with a capital ‘C’, and generally didn’t express interest in so-called ‘foreign’ cuisine.

  When Caroline had asked him the reason for his preference, he’d said lightly, ‘Perhaps I’ve become a little too set in my ways…maybe I should try new things more often? They do say it helps keep you young.’

  It hadn’t been hard to detect that he wanted to please her. Glad that he was being warm and friendly, and not bearing any grudge towards her for turning down his request to get engaged, Caroline was relieved that their friendship could continue without any undercurrent of difficulty or resentment. Feeling determined to present a much more positive and upbeat image than of late, to emphasise her newfound determination to recreate her life, she wore a long, tiered ethnic-style skirt in warm browns and reds, with a black velvet top and boots, and finished off the ensemble with a pair of jet earrings shaped like teardrops.

  ‘You look very lovely tonight, if you don’t mind my saying so.’

  A brief flare of peculiar intensity in his glance, Nicholas took a long sip of his Margarita—another choice that had surprised Caroline. Generally he always selected wine when they went out to eat, and didn’t really touch spirits as a rule—except for an occasional snifter of the good malt he kept in his surgery drawer. She’d certainly never seen him imbibe a cocktail before. Somehow a drink like that seemed far too frivolous for someone like him.

  Flushing a little at the unexpected compliment, Caroline surveyed her companion across the dinner table with slight unease, and for the first time realised that he appeared uncharacteristically nervous.

  ‘Thank you.’

  A lively salsa tune filled the small, rather intimate restaurant from hidden speakers, and Caroline mused that it was another thing that somehow seemed totally at odds around someone like her companion—a man who was a bit of a self-confessed snob about music, who believed there was no music worth listening to other than classical.

  Nicholas considered the beautiful vivacious girl seated opposite him and couldn’t help but feel his blood quicken. Over the years, he’d watched her blossom from a pretty, engaging teenager into a stunning and graceful woman. There had been many times when he and Meg had yearned to have a daughter just like Caroline, but sadly they had not been blessed with children of their own. Then, after Meg had died, Nicholas had slowly started to see Caroline in a completely different light. His feelings of friendship had deepened into something much more meaningful…something that had quite taken him by surprise. He’d always felt protective of her, and when she’d had that sordid little affair with Fitzgerald Nicholas had been as concerned and furious as Charles, and had breathed a deep sigh of relief when he’d heard that the young tearaway had left home for good and that Caroline would likely never see him again.

  It had honestly shaken him to discover that Jack Fitzgerald was back and that he was apparently renovating the old run-down house he’d used to live in with his mother. Having seen the project for himself earlier today, Nicholas saw that the man was clearly pouring plenty of money into the rebuild. He’d easily recognised the name of the contractors he was employing from the livery emblazoned on their vans, and they were about the best in the country. Wherever Fitzgerald had been for the past seventeen years, he’d clearly achieved some wealth and status, and the realisation burned like bile in the pit of Nicholas’s stomach.

  He’d been disappointed…yes…that Caroline had turned down his suggestion of an engagement, but his hopes had not been seriously dashed. She clearly just needed time to get used to the idea, and he wasn’t going to let a jumped-up, swaggering upstart like Jack Fitzgerald come between them…no matter how threatening the man appeared. It had been a real boost to his ego to have her call him today and ask to see him, and he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t have hopes that she might have reconsidered his offer.

  ‘Anyway…as delighted as I am to have your company, my dear, you sounded as if you were quite concerned about something on the phone earlier. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘I—I just need a little medical advice, if you don’t mind?’

  Caroline immediately saw the flare of hope that she’d earlier recognised in Nicholas’s hazel eyes suddenly dim. It was obvious to her that he had thought she wanted to reconsider the offer he’d made, and her stomach helplessly flipped. There was something about the man tonight that put her on edge. But she had to find a way of bypassing her uneasiness, because she was desperate for some information. Ever since she’d seen that scar on Jack’s chest she had been worried about the reason behind it. He clearly did not want to divulge that reason himself, and so she was being forced to try and make some sort of educated guess. Hence her need to speak with Nicholas.

  ‘I’m only glad to give you any advice I can, my dear…you know that.’

  ‘Well, then…I wondered if you could tell me something about heart attacks?’

  ‘Heart attacks, Caroline?’ Frowning, Nicholas considered her anxious face intently. ‘Do you know someone who has suffered one?’

  She sighed and tucked some of her tantalising golden curls behind her ear. ‘Please, Nicholas…can you just give me some information?’

  ‘Well…they happen when the heart muscle fails because the blood flow to the heart becomes blocked. There are a number of ways we can treat them…medication to increase blood flow, for instance, or surgery to open the arteries to the heart. If the patient is willing and determined to improve their lifestyle—to stop smoking, cut down on stress and eat a more healthy diet with less saturated fats—then there’s no reason why they can’t continue to live a normal life. Does that answer your question?’

  She told herself she should be feeling relieved. People weren’t automatically going to die young if they’d suffered a heart attack early on in life. There were lifestyle changes that could be made—Nicholas had just outlined them. But how could Caroline feel relieved when clearly Jack’s lifestyle up until now must have been impossibly stressful to have caused him to need heart surgery at the too
young age of thirty-seven in the first place? She already knew that he was angry and bitter about what had happened between them. If he’d been carrying around that rage inside him all these years and on top of that the stress of a demanding job, then no wonder he had suffered a heart problem!

  Caroline had read in a self-help book she’d bought that one of the possible metaphysical causes of a heart attack was when a heart felt deprived of joy due to a person’s pursuit of making money over everything else…that, plus long-standing emotional problems that eventually helped harden the heart. When you added all that up, Jack was a prime candidate for what had happened to him.

  What could she do to help? Caroline bit down on her lip, deep in thought. Had he thought about what she’d said to him about forgiveness? Had he really taken on board the fact that she forgave him for blaming her all these years? Had he heard the truth in her voice when she’d related the distressing circumstances behind her seemingly hasty and callous decision to have the abortion, and was he even halfway to letting all that bitterness towards her go?

  ‘You seem miles away, my darling.’

  Reaching for her hand, Nicholas seemed a little peeved at her lack of attention towards him. Retrieving her hand and subconsciously rubbing it, Caroline smiled a little distractedly. ‘I’m sorry, Nicholas…yes, that does answer my question, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.’

  Now Nicholas looked pained. ‘That sounds terribly formal, my dear, if you don’t mind my saying? I’m delighted to be able to give you any help I can…I’m your friend, remember?’

  But one day soon I hope to be a lot more than that… He summoned up a smile that he felt would be perfectly reassuring to her, and was slightly taken aback when he saw Caroline frown instead.

  ‘Yes, Nicholas…you are my friend…a very dear and important friend. And I would like us to stay that way, if you don’t mind?’ Keeping her dark gaze steady, she sighed softly. ‘I couldn’t ever marry you and risk spoiling that special bond we have between us. And besides…I have to tell you that I’m in love with someone else.’

 

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