by Sarah Morgan
‘I don’t care.’
‘Patrick you do care,’ she said gently, glancing towards the door, relieved that no one had needed the consultant in the past fifteen minutes. ‘You don’t want to hurt or unsettle your children and neither do I.’
‘No.’ Patrick raked his fingers through his hair. ‘So we’ll do this slowly. Tomorrow I’m taking you out to dinner. You can wear a dress that I’m not going to remove and we’ll have a conversation. I’ll book a babysitter for the kids—’
‘Can’t we have dinner at home? Alfie hates Vampire Lips. I’ll cook us something special and you can open a nice bottle of something from your cellar.’
Patrick shook his head. ‘No. I want to spend some time with you without the children.’
‘I love the children,’ Hayley protested, and Patrick lifted his eyebrow.
‘You don’t want to be alone with me?’
‘Of course I do.’ She blushed. ‘It’s just that Posy looked as though she was starting a cold this morning so I don’t want to leave her.’
He held her gaze for a long time. ‘All right, this is what we’ll do. If she’s ill, we won’t go out. But if she’s fine, then I have a surprise for you. And you’ll need to dress up.’
Hayley brightened. ‘Dress up as in lipstick and heels? That sounds fun.’ Happiness bubbled inside her as she reached for the door. It was going to be a lovely evening. He wanted time with her. He liked her. Life was perfect.
As she went back to the staffroom to change, she couldn’t hold back her excitement. He hadn’t mentioned that her contract was almost up. He hadn’t suggested that she look for alternative accommodation. Far from it. He was as desperate for her as she was for him. And now he’d asked her to dinner.
Perhaps he was going to suggest that she just carry on living with them. They’d make plans for the future…
‘Fabulous restaurant,’ Hayley breathed. ‘How on earth did you manage to get a seat right by the window? Don’t tell me—you delivered the chef’s baby.’
‘Actually, yes. Have you met the waiter before?’ Patrick watched as the blushing member of staff retreated to the kitchen.
‘No. Never. But he was very friendly, wasn’t he?’ Hayley took a sip of champagne and gave a low moan of pleasure. ‘Oh, that tastes delicious. What a great idea to get a taxi so that we can have champagne.’
‘Given that you’re so intimate with our local taxi drivers, I’m surprised you didn’t invite him to join us.’
‘He wouldn’t have wanted to. Jack’s popping over to his daughter’s for a few hours because she lives near here, but he’ll be back to pick us up when we call.’ She smiled at the waiter who was back with a basket of warm, freshly baked bread. ‘Mmm. They smell good. I’ll have the one with poppy seeds, please. Yum.’
The smitten waiter gave her two and Patrick managed not to smile until the man was safely back in the kitchen. ‘Jack needs to watch out. I think he has competition. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn that dress.’
There was a flash of insecurity in her eyes. ‘You don’t like the dress?’
‘I love the dress,’ he drawled. ‘And so does every other man in the room.’
Her cheeks dimpled. ‘Really?’ She glanced down at herself self-consciously. ‘Alfie liked it.’
‘Alfie likes everything about you.’ Patrick reached for his glass. ‘To us.’
Hayley tapped her glass against his. ‘To us.’
‘Thank you for cooking us the best turkey we’ve eaten in years…’ he kept his eyes on hers, unable to look away ‘…and for giving us such a happy Christmas.’
‘I had a happy Christmas, too.’
‘You didn’t miss being with your family?’
Hayley took a sip of champagne and put her glass down. ‘Families aren’t always idyllic, are they? I used to hope that things would change as we all grew older but nothing ever did. I even tried changing myself to be more the way they wanted me to be, but it didn’t work.’
‘Why would you want to change?’
‘Because I irritate them.’ Hayley sat back as the waiter placed her starter on the table with a flourish. ‘That looks delicious, thank you.’ She beamed at him and Patrick watched as she picked up her fork.
‘How could you possibly irritate them?’
‘Just by being me.’ She speared a prawn. ‘I’m so different from them. They see me as a clumsy idiot who laughs too much and talks too much. And they’re probably right. But it’s impossible for me to be silent and academic. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. And it’s exhausting trying to be something you’re not.’
‘Don’t put yourself down. The things you tried to change about yourself are the things that make you special.’ He studied her across the table and found himself noticing new things about her—like the fact her eyelashes were long and dense and her lower lip was slightly fuller than her top lip. ‘Aren’t they proud of what you’ve achieved professionally?’
‘They don’t think I’ve achieved anything professionally.’ Her voice was matter-of-fact. ‘That’s the point. They think I’ve wasted my life. They’re always asking me when I’m going to get a “proper” job.’
Patrick felt a rush of anger towards her family. ‘I think you’ve achieved tremendous success in your professional life.’
‘It depends on how you define success, doesn’t it?’ She ate another prawn. ‘Is success about making a difference to people’s lives, or is it about how much money you accumulate?’
‘Money isn’t a measure of success so much as an indication of career choice.’ Patrick discovered that he’d finished his starter without even noticing that he was eating. ‘If you pick a career like nursing or teaching you’re never going to be rich, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t successful.’
She smiled at him. ‘And that’s why I’m eating dinner with you and not them,’ she said lightly. ‘Because you don’t make me feel as though my entire life has been wasted.’
‘Families can be tough.’
‘Well, that’s true. And from what you’ve told me, yours was no picnic either.’
They ate and talked and, by the time midnight arrived and the New Year had been toasted, Patrick discovered that he’d told her more about himself than he’d ever told anyone before. Certainly more than Carly.
Studying Hayley’s smiling face as she told him a ridiculous story about one of her friends, he realised that comparisons with Carly were inappropriate.
There was no comparison.
When had Carly made him laugh like this? Had Carly ever asked if he should check his mobile phone in case there was a message from the hospital?
Aware that the restaurant had emptied and they were the last couple still talking, Patrick retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jacket and called the taxi, feeling nothing but regret that the evening had to end.
He wanted her to keep talking. He wanted to know everything about her.
It was the champagne, he told himself as he watched Hayley engage in conversation with the man who fetched them their coats.
She was a beautiful woman and good company.
It was natural to enjoy being with her.
What man wouldn’t?
CHAPTER EIGHT
I’M IN love, I’m in love, I’m in love.
Hayley bounced into the antenatal clinic and Maggie looked up from the desk and raised her eyebrows.
‘How much?’
‘Sorry?’
‘How much have you won? I’m assuming from the look on your face you’ve won the lottery.’ Maggie studied her face and started to laugh. ‘Only in this case I suspect the jackpot is a six-foot-two, super-sexy obstetrician called Patrick. Am I right?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ But it was impossible to keep her happiness inside her and Hayley virtually danced round the desk to give Maggie a hug. ‘Oh, Maggie, I’ve never felt like this in my life before. I want to smile and smile. And I…actually I can’t put it into words.’
Maggie laugh
ed and hugged her back. ‘That’s probably a good thing because clinic is about to start.’
‘That’s why I’m here. The labour ward is really quiet and Jenny said you needed some help down here.’ Hayley pulled away from her and realised that her hair hadn’t survived the hug. With a grin, she pulled the clasp from her hair, scooped it up and fastened it in her usual haphazard fashion. ‘I’ll be your wing man. Have I wished you Happy New Year yet? Happy New Year! Where do you want me to start?’
Maggie picked up a set of notes from the pile. ‘You can see Olivia. It should be routine but you know the drill anyway. Any problems, yell. Patrick’s registrar is doing the clinic because the boss is in some meeting or other. But I expect you know that.’
‘Actually, I do, because this morning he was wearing one of his gorgeous suits.’ Remembering how good he’d looked as he’d left the house, Hayley smiled dreamily and then pulled herself together. ‘Sorry. Where is Olivia?’
‘Room 3. Good luck.’ Maggie gave a wry smile. ‘Olivia talks almost as much as you do.’
After five minutes with the young woman, Hayley was forced to agree.
Olivia had regaled her with everything from her disastrous Christmas to the agonies of morning sickness.
‘Honestly, you have no idea.’ The woman rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t know I’d feel this bad. Other women seem to sail through pregnancy, but I feel as though I’ve picked up some vile bug that doesn’t want to shift.’
‘It’s like that sometimes,’ Hayley murmured sympathetically, checking the height of Olivia’s uterus and recording it in the notes. She kept thinking about her evening with Patrick. The way he’d looked at her across the table. ‘Hopefully it will pass soon and you’ll start to feel better.’
‘I hope so. I think maybe it’s my punishment for all the drinks I had before I knew I was pregnant. This whole thing has come as a shock,’ Olivia confessed. ‘I’m embarrassed to admit this—I mean, how stupid can a girl be?—but I didn’t even suspect I could be pregnant. It’s not as if we were trying or anything. And I’m not the sort that marks my period on a calendar every month, you know? I’m just not obsessed with that sort of thing.’
‘I’m the same,’ Hayley said absently, recording the blood-pressure reading and comparing it with the time before, her head somewhere else entirely.
He’d said she was special.
‘It just sort of hit me one night. I thought to myself, My period is late. And then I worked out when my last one was and I thought, Oh…’ The girl used a word that made Hayley start.
‘I can imagine it must have been a bit of a shock.’
‘You have no idea.’ Olivia rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘I keep telling Mick—he’s my boyfriend—well, at least I noticed I was pregnant before I actually delivered. You do hear of women who actually deliver the baby before they find out. I wasn’t quite as clueless as that.’
‘It isn’t always straightforward,’ Hayley said tactfully. ‘Some women do still have a light period for the first few months and that can delay them realising that they’re pregnant.’
‘Oh, that didn’t happen to me.’ Olivia slipped her feet back into her shoes and stood up. ‘I had no period at all, but I was basically just too busy to notice. If you’re not expecting to be pregnant, you’re not looking, are you? I bet you’re not like that. You midwives must be really up on stuff like that. I bet no midwife has ever had an unplanned baby. I bet you tick off that date in your calendar every month, just to be sure.’
‘I don’t go that far.’ Hayley laughed. ‘But I always know when—’ When she was due. And…
Oh, God, she’d missed a period.
The realisation hit her along with a wave of almost crippling nausea and panic.
She’d missed a period. She’d missed a period.
‘What’s the matter?’ Olivia stared at her in alarm. ‘Is something wrong? You said everything seemed fine. Are you worried about the baby’s growth?’
‘No. Nothing. I just…’ Frantically she searched for some explanation that would satisfy the patient. ‘I just remembered that I had to ring the lab about some results. Not yours. Someone else’s.’
How could she not have realised?
She’d been so affronted when Patrick had assumed she was pregnant, it hadn’t even occurred to her that she might be pregnant. She desperately wanted to go through her diary and check the dates, but Olivia was still chatting.
Somehow Hayley managed to finish the conversation and then she hurried to the desk. ‘Maggie, I’m sorry but I have to go to the staffroom for a minute.’ Panic engulfed her like rolling clouds and she barely registered Maggie’s concerned look before she fled from the department, her heart beating and tears stinging the back of her eyes.
Please, no. Please let her be wrong. Let her have miscalculated, missed a week. Please, please…
The staffroom on the labour ward was empty and she rummaged through her bag and found her diary. Her fingers were shaking so badly it took ages to find November and check the date she needed to know. And as soon as she saw it, she dropped the book back into her bag and stared blankly at the chipped paint on the wall. She didn’t need to count twenty-eight days to know that her period was now over a week late. She’d lost track.
She didn’t even need to do a pregnancy test.
She knew.
And she also knew that her relationship with Patrick was over.
Pregnancy was no basis for a relationship, was it?
He’d made that clear to her.
And she was very definitely pregnant.
‘What do you mean, she just ran out of clinic?’ Patrick frowned. ‘Was she feeling ill or something?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ Maggie shrugged helplessly. ‘Actually, I think she looked more upset than sick, but she didn’t say anything to me.’
‘Well, that’s unusual,’ Patrick drawled, ‘because Hayley always tells everyone what’s on her mind.’
‘That’s what I love about her,’ Maggie said stoutly, and Patrick gave a faint smile.
‘And that’s why you can stop worrying. As soon as I track her down, she’ll tell me what’s wrong and we can fix it. At least with Hayley you know where you are.’
‘Yes.’ Maggie looked at him doubtfully. ‘Yes, you’re right. Go and find her, Patrick.’
Patrick glanced at the clock. ‘I’m due in Theatre in thirty minutes. I have a gynae list.’
‘Thirty minutes is ages…’ Maggie pushed him towards the door ‘…and Hayley talks quickly. Go, Patrick. She really did look upset and I’m worried about her.’
Patrick took the stairs to the labour ward, mentally listing the things that could be wrong with Hayley.
They’d had a wonderful evening the night before, but it had been a late night. Was she tired?
Had a patient been rude to her?
Had a member of staff offended her?
Or maybe she was feeling poorly. There were certainly plenty of people off sick with flu.
Pushing open the door of the staffroom, he saw Sally sitting there, talking to Tom.
‘Hi, Patrick.’ Sally gave a sheepish smile. ‘I was bored with the ward so I came up here for a change. How are you doing?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ Patrick barely registered her. ‘Have either of you seen Hayley?’
‘No. Why?’ Tom frowned. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be operating?’
‘I’m on my way there now.’ Patrick paused, frustrated that he hadn’t been able to find her. ‘If you see Hayley, will you tell her I was looking for her?’
Sally winked at him. ‘We certainly will.’
Hayley sat in the toilet, staring down at the test in her hand. It had taken her less than fifteen minutes to grab her coat, sprint to the nearest chemist and buy the test.
And now she was staring at the irrefutable proof that she was pregnant.
She was having Patrick’s baby.
How ironic, she thought numbly, that having his baby would mean
the end of their relationship. And she knew that it would. Their relationship was too new, too fragile. And given Patrick’s past…
It was the cruellest irony.
She couldn’t tell him.
She had to keep it from him or he’d feel obliged to do the same thing he’d done with Carly. He was a responsible guy, wasn’t he? He’d want to do ‘the right thing’.
Only what was the right thing?
Marriage certainly hadn’t been right for him.
And it hadn’t been right for her mother either.
And what about the children? Alfie, Posy and—Hayley rested a hand low on her abdomen—her baby.
She knew better than anyone that step-families could be a disaster. She thought of the resentment that her step-siblings had felt when she’d arrived in their family. Did she want to do that to three more children? Alfie and Posy liked her, she knew that. But this was something different entirely. This was huge.
She had to make a decision. And she hated decisions. And of all the decisions she’d ever had to make in her life, this was the hardest.
Should she tell him? Yes, of course she should. He had a right to know. But if she told him, he’d talk her out of going and it would be for all the wrong reasons.
He didn’t want her to be pregnant, she knew that.
Remembering his face when he’d opened the door to her on Christmas Eve, Hayley gave a choked sob. He’d braced himself for hearing that she was pregnant and it was impossible to forget his relief when she’d told him she wasn’t. So, knowing that, what choice did she have?
Obviously he adored his children, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t want another relationship that was held together only by a pregnancy.
So the right thing to do—the only decision—was to leave.
Pretend their relationship just wasn’t working.
And she had no idea how she was supposed to do that convincingly.
How was she supposed to pretend to be miserable?
