The Doctor's Love-Child

by Barbara Hart

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘I think you dropped this inside the pub.’ She waved a small rattle in the air and shook it. Robert’s face lit up as he heard the noise and he began to gurgle with delight.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Helen, accepting the rattle.

  ‘He’s a lovely baby,’ said the woman. ‘He looks just like you,’ she told Andrew, who was still holding his son. ‘He’s very bonny.’

  She stroked Robert’s chubby little legs. ‘Simon was a very bonny baby,’ she said wistfully. ‘It was such a tragedy when he was born with spina bifida…but he’s a plucky kid and we all love him so much. Particularly Ben.’

  ‘I could tell that the boys were very fond of each other,’ said Helen. ‘That’s not always the case with siblings!’

  She noticed the way the woman was looking longingly at Robert, perhaps recalling her own children when they were small.

  ‘It must have been hard for you, having a child with spina bifida,’ said Helen, sensing that the woman wanted to talk about it.

  She nodded. ‘But somehow it was harder for my husband. He took it very badly. He’s always been a mad keen sportsman and imagined running around the playing fields, kicking a football with his first-born son. He talked of nothing else during my pregnancy. Even saying things like. “If it’s a girl we’re going to keep on trying until we get a boy”! Imagine how he felt when the baby was, after all, the longed-for son but one who would spend his life in a wheelchair.’

  ‘Is that why he’s so ambitious for Ben?’ asked Andrew.

  ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘But it wasn’t one-sided—Ben was also very keen. I don’t think my husband forced him to do anything against his will. I’d have made sure about that…and so would Simon.’

  ‘You’ll be taking Ben to see your own doctor, won’t you?’ Helen asked.

  ‘As soon as we get home,’ said the woman. ‘I just wanted to say thank you to you two doctors for warning us about the condition.’

  ‘How will your husband take it?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘I can assure you that the last thing he wants is to end up with two children in wheelchairs.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A WEEK later, Helen was at home and it was breakfast-time.

  ‘Any post for me?’ she asked as she placed Robert in his baby seat. ‘I thought I heard the postman come a few minutes ago.’

  Jack handed her a couple of envelopes as he sorted through the morning’s mail.

  Her mother watched Helen as she took the letters and put them on one side.

  ‘Not opening them?’ she said quizzically. ‘I can never wait for more than a couple of seconds before opening my letters even though I know most of them are going to be bills!’

  ‘I’ll open them later,’ said Helen evasively.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said Dorothy, who was obviously dying to know what was inside the envelopes. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I bought your favourite—camomile and spearmint—when I was out shopping yesterday.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Helen, who continued to attend to Robert, leaving the unopened letters on the table.

  When her mother handed her the mug of tea, it amused Helen to see that her eyes were fixed on the mysterious letters…mysterious, that was, to her mother.

  ‘All right, Mum, you win!’ Helen picked them up and tore open the envelopes. ‘See, a credit-card bill,’ she said, waving it in front of her mother.

  She pulled out the contents of the larger envelope more gingerly, trying to play down what was inside. ‘And here are some house details, that’s all.’

  ‘House details? That’s nice. Is it for you and Patrick? Oh, do let me see!’

  Before Helen could reply, Dorothy had leaned over and taken the estate agent’s printed pages.

  There were several sheets and Dorothy glanced at each one quickly, a disappointed look crossing her face.

  ‘But these are only houses for renting,’ she said, ‘and they’re very small, and not in a very good area either.’

  Helen reached over and took the house details from her mother.

  ‘It’s all I can afford,’ she said quickly, annoyed that she’d been caught out in this way. She had been hoping to get herself fixed up with her own place before having to announce it to her parents. As it was, they both were staring at her with questioning looks on their faces and she knew she’d have to start explaining.

  She decided to cause a diversion, taking the spotlight away from herself and her future plans. She faced her stepfather who’d been reading the morning paper.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be in the office by now, Jack?’ she said, gesturing to her watch.

  ‘I’m not going in today,’ he said. ‘I’ve brought some work home. I need a bit of peace and quiet to read through some papers and—’

  ‘Never mind that,’ interrupted Dorothy. ‘What’s all this about Helen wanting to rent a terraced house? What does Patrick think about it? I’m amazed that he can’t come up with anything better for the two of you in which to start your married life.’

  ‘We’re not getting married,’ said Helen. ‘We called it off yesterday—and then I rang round the estate agents, asking them to send me particulars of small houses that would be suitable for me and Robert.’

  ‘I knew it!’ said her mother. ‘It’s all Andrew’s fault! I warned you that you shouldn’t have gone away with him. Patrick must have been terribly upset. I suggest you apologise and try and make it up with him.’

  ‘No, Mum. It wasn’t anything to do with the weekend in Norfolk. Patrick had no qualms about that. I broke off the engagement because the marriage would never have worked.’

  ‘Why not?’ Her mother was shocked. ‘He’s such a nice man and he’s so fond of you, Helen.’

  ‘But that’s not enough, is it?’ Helen replied sadly. ‘I can’t marry someone I don’t love. And I don’t love Patrick.’

  ‘What does Patrick say about it?’ asked Jack.

  Helen took a sip of tea before replying, hoping that the camomile would have a calming effect on her.

  ‘He was very understanding—as he always is. And actually I don’t think it came as a huge surprise to him. We’ll always be friends, but never lovers.’

  Jack put down his newspaper. ‘If the spark isn’t there, it isn’t there. It’s all a matter of chemistry.’

  Her mother wasn’t so easily placated. ‘But you both get on so well. And little Robert needs a father—’

  ‘She doesn’t love him, Dorothy,’ said Jack firmly, ‘and that’s all there is to it!’

  Her mother frowned. ‘So why are you looking at house particulars? There’s no need for you to move out of here. I’ve told Jack we’re not moving anywhere until the time is right for you.’

  Helen could sense her mother’s embarrassment. On the one hand she wanted to please Jack and plan for his retirement—on the other hand she was desperately keen not to appear as if she was pushing her daughter and grandson out onto the street!

  Helen patted her mother’s hand. ‘I’m moving out because I want a place of my own. It’s got nothing to do with you and Jack.’

  ‘You can’t afford it, love. Not on what you earn part time. It doesn’t take a mathematical genius to work that out.’

  ‘I’ve worked it all out, don’t worry,’ said Helen brightly. ‘I’ve applied for a full-time position at the hospital, in the orthopaedic outpatients department. It’s virtually a nine-to-five job, so I can place Robert with a childminder on the days you can’t have him.’

  ‘You know you can stay here,’ said her mother.

  ‘Mum,’ said Helen softly, ‘no disrespect to you and Jack, but I need to have my own space. I need to feel that I’m independent.’

  ‘We understand that,’ said Jack briskly, getting up from the breakfast table. ‘Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to my study to get on with some work.’ He winked surreptitiously at Helen as he went out, mouthing the words, ‘Good luck’.

/>   Another week passed. Helen’s afternoon shift at the open access clinic had finished and she picked up her bag and headed for the door at top speed.

  ‘You’re in a hurry,’ said the desk nurse. Normally Helen would stop for a chat before leaving for home.

  ‘I want to catch someone before I go,’ she said in explanation, walking quickly towards the orthopaedic department. She had something to give to Andrew—a photograph of Robert—and she was looking forward to seeing his reaction to the picture. When Andrew had dropped them back home after their Norfolk trip a couple of weeks previously, he’d asked her for a photo of the baby. ‘I don’t have a camera,’ he confessed, ‘but I’d love a picture of him to take with me when I leave Milchester.’

  Helen had, as it so happened, a new photograph of Robert, taken by Jack with his state-of-the-art digital camera, and it was excellent. She’d had a large print made for Andrew. On the back she’d attached a piece of paper with Robert’s details written on it—things like his date of birth, how much he’d weighed at birth and how much he weighed now…the kind of details that Andrew most likely didn’t know and yet would, she hoped, find interesting.

  As she walked into his department she was disappointed to see that his door was shut, indicating perhaps that he was seeing a patient.

  ‘Do you think Dr Henderson will be busy for long?’ she asked the desk nurse. ‘I have to get home soon and I was hoping to catch him before I leave.’

  ‘He’s finished his appointments,’ she said. ‘He’s just got a friend in there, I think. I’ll just buzz him for you.’

  She pressed the intercom button. ‘Dr Blackburn would like to see you for a moment,’ she said.

  ‘Tell her to come in,’ Andrew replied.

  The nurse smiled at Helen and waved her arm in the direction of Andrew’s consulting room. ‘You heard what the man said!’

  Helen opened the door gingerly, feeling slightly guilty at her intrusion—but on seeing her Andrew immediately put her at her ease.

  ‘Come in, Helen,’ he said giving her one of his devastating smiles. Sitting across from him was a young woman in her twenties. ‘Meet Jill Martin,’ said Andrew. ‘Jill, this is a colleague of mine, Dr Helen Blackburn.’

  ‘Hi, there, Helen,’ said Jill. ‘It’s good to meet you.’

  Helen was somewhat surprised to note that Jill had an American accent.

  ‘Nice to meet you, too,’ she replied. Then, feeling that she was, after all, intruding on a private meeting, she handed Andrew a buff hard-backed envelope.

  ‘Here’s the picture you asked for,’ she said. ‘The one of Robert.’

  She turned to leave but Andrew called her back. ‘Don’t go,’ he said opening the envelope and taking out the photograph. ‘It’s a great picture,’ he said.

  ‘Nice baby,’ said Jill, admiring the photograph which Andrew was now showing to her. ‘Whose is it?’

  ‘Mine,’ said Andrew quickly and with pride. ‘He’s my son.’

  ‘Wow!’ said Jill. ‘You certainly kept him under your hat. I wonder what Mom would have to say about that! He’s gorgeous, Andrew!’

  ‘I’d better explain who Jill is,’ said Andrew to Helen. ‘She’s the daughter of Lori Martin, someone I know in Chicago, and she’s working in London for a month on a student work exchange programme.’

  Helen felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Lori Martin’s daughter?’ she said incredulously.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Jill brightly. ‘Do you know Mom?’

  ‘No,’ said Helen through clenched teeth.

  ‘It was just the way you said her name—I thought you might know her.’

  Helen shook her head wordlessly. She knew the name all right. She’d seen the pictures. She’d heard the voice. She’d drawn the conclusions.

  Jill babbled on happily. ‘When I got this work exchange Mom said that I was to come up to Milchester and persuade Andrew to come back to the States. And now he tells me that he is coming back, but only for a short time!’ She turned to Andrew. ‘You’re really needed over there, you know. Tell him, Helen. Tell him he’s got to stay in America for a long, long time!’

  Helen began to feel light-headed. The last person she’d imagined she’d ever find sitting in Andrew’s consulting room had been Lori Martin’s daughter! She didn’t even know such a person had existed, for heaven’s sake!

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m rude, but I must be going,’ said Helen, edging towards the door. ‘Nice to meet you, Jill. See you another time, Andrew.’

  She left his room and headed out of the hospital to the car park. When she got into her car she was shaking so much at first that she didn’t trust herself to drive. She turned on the radio and tuned it to a classical station, letting the soothing music flow over her until she felt calmer.

  She was particularly upset because she’d been so looking forward to showing Andrew the photo and talking about Robert. Andrew hadn’t even noticed the little details she’d written on the back of the picture. She’d also decided to tell Andrew that she and Patrick were no longer getting married—just to see if that made any difference to how he acted towards her. And then, against all expectations, the day had turned into a nightmare as she’d been confronted by his lover’s daughter!

  The next morning Andrew was half an hour into a hip-replacement operation when he picked up on a conversation between the theatre sister and one of her nurses.

  The theatre sister was Margie Whittaker, the statuesque redhead who set many a male colleague’s heart racing. Andrew liked her—she was very efficient at her job—but he didn’t lust after her in the way that he knew others did. He also tended not to pay much attention to the gossipy chitchat that went on across the operating theatre, preferring to focus his whole mind on the operation.

  The nurse who was preparing the instrument tray said to Margie, ‘How’s your social life these days? I’ve heard you’ve got a new man.’

  ‘That’s right,’ confirmed Margie. ‘I’ve really hit it off with this guy, even though we’ve only been on two dates. I think it could be the real thing!’

  ‘So tell me more,’ said the nurse. ‘What’s his name and what does he do?’

  ‘He’s called Patrick,’ said Margie, ‘and he’s a doctor, a GP. He’s a really sweet man.’

  Andrew continued to operate, taking on board this piece of information. He processed it in his mind because he thought it had a familiar ring to it. He thought it might be important to him but he couldn’t think why.

  After he’d finished the operation and was stripping off his latex gloves it suddenly came to him. Patrick! That was the name of Helen’s fiancé. He was a GP and, damn it, he’d been the man Andrew had seen slipping out of the dance that evening with the luscious Margie!

  ‘Margie,’ he said, ‘this Patrick—is he anything to do with Dr Helen Blackburn?’

  ‘He was,’ she said, ‘but not any more. She broke off the engagement.’

  Andrew was amazed. ‘She did? When?’

  ‘About a week ago,’ said Margie. ‘He was very fond of her, and she had this little boy that he was crazy about, but it just didn’t work out. She never loved him because she’s in love with someone else, he says. So they’ve agreed to be just good friends. He realises it’s all for the best.’

  Andrew was reeling from what he’d just heard. A great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Helen wasn’t going to marry Patrick because she’d never loved him! It was the best piece of news he’d heard in a long time. He finished the hip operation with a huge grin on his face. There was hope for him at last!

  After he’d completed that morning’s list he decided to walk over to the open access unit to see if he could find Helen.

  He was disappointed but not surprised to find that Helen wasn’t there. He had a sneaking feeling that it was one of the days that she spent at home.

  As he walked through a ward he bumped into Dorothy Talbot.

  ‘I was hoping to speak to Helen,’ he told her,
‘but she isn’t at work today. Would you happen to know if she’s at home now? I might call round to see her.’

  Dorothy had been told about the Jill Martin incident. Helen had arrived home in a distressed state. She’d told the whole story to her mother and had felt a good deal better once she’d got it off her chest. ‘Why do I waste my time loving him, Mum?’ she said. ‘When will I ever learn?’ So Dorothy was not best minded to be helpful to Andrew at this particular moment.

  ‘I don’t believe you’ll find her at home, Dr Henderson,’ she said brusquely. ‘And I don’t believe she’d welcome a visit or a call from you.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that, Nurse Talbot,’ said Andrew pleasantly but firmly, more determined than ever to see Helen—and the sooner the better.

  Helen had just managed to get Robert off to sleep after his lunchtime feed.

  She was sitting at the kitchen table, relaxing, eating a sandwich and reading the morning paper, when the doorbell rang. She raced to the door before whoever it was rang the bell again and woke Robert up.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said on seeing Andrew on the doorstep. ‘You’d better come in but don’t slam the door behind you. You’ll wake the baby.’

  He followed her into the kitchen and saw the half-eaten sandwich.

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch,’ he said.

  ‘You’d better have a good reason,’ she replied. ‘I was reading a fascinating article entitled “Why Men Cheat on Women”. I’m rather unsophisticated in these matters, as I’m sure you’re aware. I suppose I’m a bit of a trusting fool, especially when it comes to dealing with someone like you!’

  Andrew totally ignored her outburst. ‘I’ll take you up on that offer of a coffee,’ he said calmly.

  ‘I didn’t offer you a coffee! I only asked you in so we could avoid making a scene on the doorstep.’

  ‘I have no intention of making a scene,’ he said, walking over to the kettle and switching it on. ‘I’ve been operating all morning and have come straight here. Hence my need for a coffee before we settle down to a cool, dispassionate discussion about us.’