She looked terrible, Dylan decided. He was studying her face as she raised her gaze and then he couldn’t look away. She had an unusual eye colour. Green? Brown? He couldn’t tell because the pupils were large. She looked…grief-stricken.
‘What happened?’ A tiny catch in her voice added to his impression. ‘Was it a complication of childbirth?’
‘No. That all went perfectly. They were taking Sophie home from the hospital a few days after the birth and there was an accident on the M1. Izzy was killed instantly. Josh…broke his neck. He survived in the spinal unit for three weeks but died of respiratory complications.’ Dylan had to pause for a moment. ‘Actually,’ he added softly, ‘I think he died of a broken heart.’
‘And the…? And Sophie? She was in the car?’
‘She was in her new state-of-the-art car seat.’ Dylan tilted his head to where he’d left the items he had carried with him on the floor beside his chair. ‘She’s fine.’ He looked down at the tiny face he could see in the folds of soft blanket. His arms tightened a little and something huge squeezed his heart. ‘Better than fine,’ he added. ‘She’s perfect.’
Jane wasn’t looking at Sophie. She was staring at her hands, now tightly clasped in her lap.
‘I knew something was wrong. Izzy had been hinting at a surprise and, at first, I thought they were planning a visit back to Christchurch. I’ve been half expecting to open my door and find them there, laughing at me. It’s never been this long without an email or phone call. I’ve rung so many times.’
‘I got the message you left last week.’
‘Why didn’t you contact me, then? Why didn’t someone call me as soon as it had happened?’ There was anger in her voice now. ‘Josh knew how close Izzy and I were. He must have known I’d want to be there for…for her funeral. I was the only real family Izzy had.’
‘Izzy was a McKenzie,’ Dylan said steadily. ‘My sister-in-law. My brother’s wife. My father’s daughter-in-law. The only daughter he ever had. We were her family. And we all loved her.’
Eyebrows a shade or two darker than the rich golden brown of Jane’s hair were lowered into a scowl. She didn’t like that.
‘Josh was too ill that first week,’ Dylan continued. ‘On a ventilator in the intensive care unit. My father was distraught. I had to make all the arrangements. All the decisions.’
‘You had no right to exclude me.’
‘I’m sorry.’And he was. He hadn’t bargained on this. The grief he could feel. Jane had been just a name. An entity a world away from the tragedy he’d been dealing with. He hated that he was causing her so much pain. ‘There was someone else who had to take priority in all the decisions I made.’ He glanced down again and his voice softened. ‘This wee lassie.’
Dylan looked up and waited until Jane met his gaze. ‘Your daughter,’ he added.
‘No!’ Jane shot up as though her chair had scorched her. ‘You’ve made a mistake. There’s no way this child is mine.’
Dylan had to look up a lot further this time but he remained sitting. He had to try and stay calm. This was a shock for her, he reminded himself. She needed time. She needed to see Sophie. Really look at her. Touch her. And then she would feel the way he did. That nothing mattered except for what was going to be best for this precious baby.
Was she distracting herself from grief for her friend by launching herself into denial? She was certainly focused. Controlled. Attributes she needed, no doubt, in order to perform her job. He needed to be controlled himself. Stick to the facts if he could and not let emotion take over.
‘My understanding is that you donated the eggs that Josh and Izzy used for their IVF treatments.’
Jane’s breath came out in an exasperated huff. ‘Yes…but that was more than two years ago. The treatments failed. Both of them. Izzy was too upset to think about doing it again. That’s why they decided to go back to Scotland. To start a new life.’ Jane had turned and was pacing towards the bookshelves. She whirled back to face Dylan. ‘I was there. We were all upset that it hadn’t worked but I didn’t offer to provide any more eggs and Izzy didn’t ask.’
‘There was a final embryo. When they were tying up loose ends before they left the country, they contacted the fertility clinic and were told about it and asked to make a decision about whether to keep it or not. I don’t know why it had been kept and not used in the earlier attempts. Josh said something about its viability being in question.’
‘There were only four viable embryos. Two got implanted with each attempt. Both attempts failed. That was the end of it.’
Dylan nodded. He could understand why Jane was so adamant. ‘That’s what they thought as well but apparently there was the extra one. The odds of the implantation being successful were minimal but they decided to use it so they wouldn’t be left wondering.’
‘No.’ Jane shook her head decisively. ‘Izzy would have told me.’
‘She didn’t think it would work. She didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes, especially her own. She thought if she and Josh were the only people to know, it would be easier to deal with another failure. She had the implantation procedure and that was it as far as they were concerned. They’d tried their best and it was time to put it all behind them and start a new life.’
A flash of pain appeared to mix with the anger and sheer disbelief on Jane’s face. Was she feeling shut out? Distressed that her best friend could have kept such a secret from her?
‘She would have told me when she knew she was pregnant.’
‘She couldn’t believe it to start with. Didn’t she lose a baby the first time? At about eight or nine weeks?’
Jane gave a single nod.
‘They waited until they thought it was safe and then they waited because they wanted to surprise you.’
‘How do you know so much about this?’
Yes. There was jealousy there. And pain. A lot of pain. Not really an ice queen, then, despite her attempts to appear perfectly in control.
‘Josh was my brother,’ Dylan said gently. ‘He was a few years older than me but we were very close. We lost Mum when we were quite young and there was just the three of us. Josh was like another parent as well as my best mate.’
He drew in a ragged breath. No more tears, he told himself. Not here. Not in front of her. Please.
‘He came out of Intensive Care and I had two weeks sitting beside his bed in the spinal unit. Sleeping beside it. Dad and I took turns but it was too hard on my father so I stayed virtually the whole time.’
He had to sniff. To clear his throat. ‘There was nothing to do apart from hold his hand and talk. To let him meet his daughter. To let him grieve for Izzy—the love of his life. And to grieve for the future he was never going to have.’
The pain in his voice was palpable.
Jane had never had a sibling but she’d had her chosen sister, Izzy. How would it have been to have been sitting with her for weeks if her beloved Josh was gone? With them both knowing that even if she survived she would be unable to look after the baby she had longed for so desperately?
It was unimaginable. Jane’s heart went out to this man sitting here with the baby. Swallowing the painful lump in her throat, Jane moved slowly back to the empty chair and sat down.
‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes as she sighed. Words could be so inadequate at times. ‘It must have been terrible for you. Josh was…he was a lovely guy.’
‘You knew him?’ The tone of surprise was squashed. ‘Of course you did, with you and Izzy being so close.’
‘We lived together. Josh moved in with us within a few days of meeting Izzy.’ Jane found a smile. ‘It really was a case of love at first sight.’
‘I would have come for the wedding if I’d been invited.’
He sounded…jealous? Jane had shared a special moment of his brother’s life that he’d been excluded from. She couldn’t feel sorry for him, surely, after what she’d been excluded from.
Maybe she could.
‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. A celebrant, a beach and a couple of surfers for witnesses. Izzy and Josh said it was the commitment to each other that mattered, not putting on a show for anyone else.’ Another smile tugged at her mouth even as something sad and raw twisted inside her. ‘We all wore jeans and we went paddling afterwards.’
‘In jeans? On a beach?’ Dylan shifted the baby in his arms and fished in the pocket of his well-worn leather jacket. A slightly crumpled photograph was produced. ‘Was that when this picture was taken?’
‘Yes.’ Jane had to press her lips together. She didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger. She needed to wind this interview up and have a little time to herself, hopefully, before her pager summoned her. ‘That…that was my official bridesmaid portrait.’
Dylan shook his head. ‘Why did it have to be so rushed? I would have come.’
‘It was kind of a celebration, I guess.’
‘Of what?’
Jane sighed. ‘Maybe resolution would be a better word. It had been a rather intense few weeks. Josh had proposed but Izzy refused to marry him and it was tearing her to pieces. Tearing us all to pieces.’
Dylan’s eyebrows rose. ‘I thought it was love at first sight? Why did she refuse?’
At least there was something Jane knew more about than Izzy’s brother-in-law.
‘She knew she couldn’t have babies and there was nothing Josh could say that would convince her it didn’t matter. Izzy could get very passionate about things. She had got it into her head that the only way she could show Josh how much she loved him was to have his baby.’
‘And why couldn’t she?’
‘Early menopause. Hit her at twenty-nine. Way before she met Josh. There was no warning, either, so she couldn’t try and harvest her own eggs and store them.’
‘So you stepped in and offered yours?’
‘Not exactly.’ He made it sound as if it had been a casual thing. An easy solution. ‘As I said, it was…intense.’ Fraught, more like. Izzy had made it seem that futures and friendships were on the line. ‘Izzy knew I was never going to have my own children. I—’
‘Why?’ The interruption was puzzled. ‘How did you know that for sure?’
‘Because I made a choice to have a career that doesn’t leave time to raise children, that’s why.’ Jane’s tone hardened. ‘Because my parents had full-on careers and I know what it’s like to be raised by parents who don’t have the time.’ Not that her upbringing was any of his business. ‘Yes, I got persuaded to help Izzy but, if I’m honest, I had doubts about it. There was an element of relief when it didn’t work.’
‘But it did work.’
As if to support the quiet statement, the baby in his arms stirred and squeaked.
I’m here, the noise said. I’m real.
‘I have her birth certificate if you’d like to see it.’
A cold prickle ran down Jane’s spine. ‘And that’s relevant because…?’
‘Because it has your name on it. As her mother.’
‘I’m not her mother!’
‘Biologically, you are. It was Josh who thought it was the best plan. We got legal advice and medical records as supportive evidence. You signed a consent to have your identity available.’
‘Only in case of a family medical history being needed. Or…a bone-marrow transplant or something.’ Jane stood up again. She needed to move. ‘This is ridiculous. I did not choose to have a child.’
Sophie squeaked more loudly. A grizzle that threatened to turn into a cry. Did she sense the rejection?
‘There’s lots of mothers out there who didn’t exactly choose to have a child.’The outrageous calm of Dylan’s voice showed he had absolutely no understanding of the implications of this situation. ‘They still bond with them when they arrive. They bring them up and they make good mothers.’
‘I have no intention of bonding with this baby.’ Oh, Lord, that sounded callous but it was the truth. ‘And I’m not about to have motherhood forced on me.’
Jane was pacing again. Towards her desk. Her nice tidy desk—as organised and precise as her life. There was the gold clock, the box of pens, a pad of sticky notes, another box with her business cards.
‘Here.’ Jane picked up one of the cards and marched back to present it to Dylan. ‘Here are my contact details. Call me tomorrow when I’ve had time to contact my solicitors. We’ll sort something out. A way I can contribute to this child’s welfare.’
‘That’s big of you.’ Dylan took the card and stuffed it into his pocket. He stood up, seemingly oblivious to the steady wail Sophie was now emitting. ‘But wee Sophie needs a bit more than money.’
‘It’s the best I can offer.’
‘I don’t agree.’
‘Look.’ The noise the baby was making was filling Jane’s head and making it impossible to think clearly. She had to escape. Find time to think about this. ‘She’s got you. You’re her uncle and you obviously care about her. I’ll help however I can but—’
Along with the strident sound of a distressed baby came the insistent beeping of Jane’s pager. She was needed. Where she belonged. In the paediatric intensive care unit or the ward or an operating theatre. She had to escape and step back into her real life.
Away from this nightmare.
Jane turned, ready to pick up the telephone on her desk and find out where she was needed.
‘Oi!’
Jane’s jaw dropped. Her astonishment at such an inappropriate command was enough to actually make her turn back.
‘You made a choice,’ Dylan said, his voice low and dangerous. ‘You made it possible for this baby to come into the world. You have to take responsibility for that choice.’
‘But I told you. I—’
‘No.’ He was furious now, the word was ground out from a clenched jaw. ‘I won’t have it. Sophie deserves better than this. Sophie,’ he repeated, holding out the shrieking bundle. ‘Your daughter.’
She had no idea how it happened. It was all too fast and noisy and totally unexpected. There she was, facing an angry man and a baby making a sound that would scramble anyone’s brains, and a heartbeat later—here she was…
Holding that baby and watching incredulously as the man stormed out of her office.
CHAPTER THREE
HOW could he have done that?
Walked out and left her—literally—holding the baby?
An incredulous huff left Jane’s lungs as she scanned the now deserted corridor outside her office.
‘Shh!’ She jiggled the baby but, if anything, the decibel level increased.
Jane stepped back into her office and shut the door with her foot. Perhaps it was lucky the corridor was deserted. What would her colleagues think of this?
Jane Walters—dedicated paediatric surgeon who was letting nothing interfere with her meteoric rise through the consultant ranks. An accidental mother? Without ever having had sex with the baby’s father or having been pregnant?
There would be an endless stream of jokes about immaculate conceptions and stress-free pregnancies. People would be sniggering at her instead of giving her the respect she had worked so hard to earn.
With an inward groan, Jane recognised the kind of single-minded focus she had given her career taking over yet again. This was rather bigger than being labelled a nerd because she wanted to study instead of partying, however. She was turning the spotlight on herself and her career instead of what actually mattered in this moment of time.
Izzy…
No. She couldn’t go there and imagine a world without the person she loved the most. Falling to pieces here and now wasn’t going to help anyone, and if it became known it might do more damage to her credibility than producing an unexpected baby.
Izzy’s baby.
One that she had wanted desperately enough to beg her for help. What if Izzy could see her now? It was too easy to imagine her friend’s passionate expression. To feel the bond that had made them so close.
Please
, Izzy would say. You have to help me here, Janey. You’re the only person who can.
‘Shh!’ Jane tried to push away the echo of Izzy’s voice. She looked down at the tiny, screwed-up face amongst the folds of fuzzy blanket. ‘Goodness, you’re red!’ she exclaimed. ‘Is there something wrong with you, baby?’
She could deal with that. Jane sat on the edge of the chair and leaned forward to lay the bundle down carefully on the floor. She peeled back the blanket.
Izzy’s baby, she reminded herself as she looked at tiny starfish hands and a miniature body in a soft, stretchy, pink suit.
‘Maybe you’re too hot.’
It certainly felt hot. And damp. And the smell was a lot less than pleasant. Jane found herself automatically looking up, half expecting a nurse or parent to step in and deal with this.
Jane diagnosed things. She saw babies when they were clean and awake. Often when they were crying like this, in fact. She saw them later, when they were sedated and quiet and again when they were recuperating and, of course, the time she almost loved the most—when they were completely asleep.
Anaesthetised.
A time when she could use her not inconsiderable powers of concentration and learned skills to fix whatever was wrong and make life a whole lot better for them.
Jane Walters did not change dirty nappies. Or feed babies. She cuddled them sometimes. Once she got to know them—inside and out—they were a part of her professional life and she cared passionately about those children. So much so that she’d never once regretted her decision not to have children of her own. She didn’t have the time or need for them. Being able to go home and have a complete break was what enabled her to give everything she had—and more sometimes—to her patients.
This baby had sprung from her personal life, not her professional one. Jane didn’t cuddle babies like this. Not when they needed the kind of attention a nurse could deliver much more effectively. Not when they needed their mothers.
Oh….God!
Jane stared down at the miserable scrap of humanity on her floor.
Her Baby Out of the Blue/A Doctor, A Nurse: A Christmas Baby Page 2
