The Midwife's Longed-For Baby

by Caroline Anderson

  And her touching him like that, hugging him, kissing him, running her hand over his stubble and looking at him with those melting eyes that threatened to lure him in again—

  He stared at the shower controls, contemplated cold and decided against it. He’d never been a masochist, and the last twenty-four hours had been tough enough. He turned on the hot, tested the temperature and stepped into the cubicle under the wall of steaming water.

  It pounded down on him, and he dropped his head forwards and felt the tension drain away, but it was replaced by relief that she was still alive, and anguish that she’d been hurt at all, by the deep sorrow left in the wake of their break-up and the grief he still felt that he’d never been able to give her the child she so desperately wanted. Might never be able to.

  She’d asked what had happened to them, and the answer was nothing. No pregnancy, no baby, no family.

  That, rather than Suzanne, was why their marriage had fallen apart. The business with Suze had just been the trigger, the last straw, and if he was honest, he hadn’t cared at that point, because he’d been at the end of his tether with their broken relationship.

  By asking for a divorce she’d handed him a perfect way out, or so he’d thought, but then she’d never done it, never started divorce proceedings, just left him in limbo waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’d thought she’d be better off without him, but he hadn’t been better off without her, and walking out of her life had left a wound that time didn’t seem about to heal.

  And getting too close to her again too soon could be a disaster, so no more snuggling up in the night, no more hugs, no more tender touches breaking through his defences and laying him wide open to hurt again.

  And what about the job? How were they going to cope with working together every day when they were obviously still so attracted to each other? Could he manage to keep his distance?

  Did he really want to? Or was he just being a coward, afraid to try again? Frankly, he had no idea.

  He reached for the soap, scrubbed away the memory of her body against his, towelled himself roughly dry—and discovered he’d forgotten to pack his razor.

  Damn.

  He ran his hand over his beard, hearing the rasp of it against his skin, feeling the touch of her hand against it earlier, and swore softly and comprehensively at himself.

  He could always borrow hers, he supposed, but she’d be unlikely to have a new one and the one in the shower would be worse than useless, he knew that of old. And the intimacy of it...

  He’d go and buy some later. Just so she didn’t get any more ideas about his morning-after look.

  He dressed quickly, packed up his things and took his bag down to the hall. There wasn’t really any need to stay here again tonight, he could quite easily go to Ben and Daisy’s as planned. Much safer.

  He ran back up and stuck his head round the bedroom door. ‘OK?’

  ‘Yes, except I’d love more tea. Oh, and Sam rang, by the way. He’s on his way over to check up on me. Says he doesn’t trust you.’

  ‘Damn cheek. Do you have any decent coffee?’

  ‘I think so, in the freezer. If not there’s an unopened packet of ground coffee in the larder cupboard. I might not have a lot of milk. I was going shopping on the way home.’

  ‘I’ll check. What do you want for breakfast?’

  She shrugged. ‘Anything. Toast is easy. And marmalade. It’s in the fridge door. And forget the tea, I’ll have coffee if you’re making it for Sam.’

  ‘OK.’

  He ran downstairs and put the kettle on just as the doorbell rang, and he opened the door to his old friend.

  ‘Sam—come in. Thank you so much for yesterday.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Sam said, stepping into the hall and wrapping Nick in a fierce and affectionate hug. Yesterday he’d been a professional but today he was a concerned friend, and he dropped his arms and stepped back with a wry smile, studying his face.

  ‘It’s really good to see you again. I’m just sorry it was under those circumstances. How is she? And come to that, how are you? It must have been pretty tough to witness it.’

  He shrugged and closed the front door. ‘I’m fine. She’s a bit sore, but her head seems OK and that was the real worry. I’ve just put the kettle on. Can I get you anything?’

  ‘Coffee would be good. I’ve been up since before six with Isadora.’

  ‘Your baby?’

  ‘Yes. She was born last October.’ Sam smiled ruefully. ‘She’s gorgeous, but she’s an early riser, and Kate’s not a morning person.’

  ‘Are you?’

  Sam laughed. ‘After years in the army, believe me, getting up for a smiley baby is a walk in the park.’

  Nick gave a dutiful laugh, then turned away. ‘Yes, I can imagine,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go on up and see Liv? She’s on the right at the top of the stairs. I’m just getting her breakfast and I’ll bring our coffee up.’

  He headed back to the kitchen, trying hard not to think of the joy of being woken by a baby with a beaming smile at any time of the day or night.

  Liv hadn’t wanted to go to the conference because everyone would be talking about their children, and she’d been right. They were at the age where their friends nearly all had families, and the fact that they’d kept their problems a secret just meant there’d been nobody to share it with, no one to offload on when it all became too much.

  Except Suze, and look where that had got him.

  He put bread in the toaster, checked the milk situation and found the new packet of coffee and the cafetière.

  Core business, he told himself. Stick to what you’re here for, and forget the rest.

  * * *

  ‘Well, good morning. How’s the patient?’

  ‘Much better but cross with myself, thank you,’ she told him, and then asked the question that had been niggling at her since yesterday. ‘How come you know Nick?’

  ‘We grew up together. He was my best friend, but we drifted apart once life got in the way.’

  ‘Ah. You’re that Sam—the one who taught him to sail,’ she said, all the little pieces falling neatly into place.

  ‘That’s me. Can we talk about you, now?’ he said, smiling a little wryly. ‘That’s a cracking black eye you’ve got there.’

  ‘Isn’t it just? At least it’s only the colour. I can still open my eye more or less fully, and I feel fine now.’

  ‘Really? The eye doesn’t say so, and I’m pretty sure your body’s at least as colourful.’

  ‘I’m fine, Sam. Really. Yes, I hurt a bit here and there, but I’m alive, no fractures, I haven’t got a serious head injury—what more could I ask for? Apart from the common sense not to have stepped backwards off the pavement. That would have helped.’

  Sam chuckled, then his smile faded as he studied her. ‘How is Nick? I haven’t seen him for years. The last I knew he was working in Surrey.’

  ‘He was, but that’s six or seven years ago. It’s where we met.’ She swallowed and looked away. ‘And I don’t really know how he is. I haven’t seen him since last March, and I hadn’t spoken to him then since we split up in the middle of January because we weren’t working together and we were avoiding each other. He came back yesterday because he’s going to locum for a bit, but that was the first time we’d spoken, so yesterday was a bit of a trial, one way or another.’

  Sam looked shocked. ‘Gosh, Liv, I’m sorry. If I’d realised that, I wouldn’t have suggested he stayed here with you, but you seemed to want him around and he certainly wasn’t going anywhere, but no wonder you both objected. Ben mentioned that you weren’t together now, but I just assumed you had a working relationship—kids, probably, and shared custody, not total radio silence.’

  She tried to smile, but it was probably a sad little even
t and she gave up. ‘No kids,’ she said, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice. ‘We just—it wasn’t working, so we split up.’

  She didn’t elaborate, just left him to conclude whatever he liked from that, because by the end nothing had been working for them, not the relentless striving for a child, or their crumbling relationship.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Sam said again. ‘I shouldn’t have interfered without knowing more about your situation.’

  ‘Sam, it’s fine,’ she said, swiftly changing the subject to one she was more comfortable with than the slow and painful disintegration of her marriage. ‘Tell me about your baby.’

  ‘Isadora?’

  ‘Is that what you called her? What a lovely name. Have you got any photos?’

  Of course he did, and he pulled out his phone and scrolled around for a moment and then handed it to her. ‘Swipe from right to left. That’s her yesterday morning, helping me eat my breakfast. She kept stealing the spoon, so I think we’re going to have to start weaning her soon.’

  ‘She’s just like you.’

  ‘I generally have better table manners.’

  Liv felt a lump in her throat, and with a choked little laugh she scrolled through the photos, only handing the phone back when Nick came in with a tray laden with toast and coffee.

  ‘Room service,’ he said lightly, putting the tray down on the top of her chest of drawers and turning to Sam. ‘Black, white, sugar?’

  But her head was aching, and she knew the men would have lots to talk about, so she caught Nick’s eye. ‘Actually, I could do with a nap. If you could leave me some toast and coffee, maybe you two would like to catch up downstairs for a while?’

  * * *

  Sam stayed for an hour, telling him about the baby, his wife, their house, the fact that he’d just bought, done up and sold a wooden ketch and was now looking for a much more sensibly sized sailing dinghy.

  ‘I thought I might get a Laser or a Firefly. You’ll have to come out with me when I get it. I’d trust you not to tip us both over the side,’ he said with a wry grin, and Nick laughed, remembering the time Sam had taken a girl out sailing and she’d done exactly that.

  ‘I can still hear that girl scream as she hit the water,’ he said with a chuckle, and Sam grinned.

  ‘Lizzie. Yeah. She never really forgave me for that.’

  His smile died, and he searched Nick’s face with eyes that knew him far too well.

  ‘I’m sorry about you and Liv. She’s a lovely woman.’

  ‘She is,’ he said, that lump back in his throat, ‘but it just wasn’t working any more.’

  ‘Yes, she said. Shame.’

  ‘It is, but it’s over, we’ve moved on, and—well, that’s it, really,’ he lied, glossing over a whole world of messy emotions.

  ‘So I gather you’re going to be locuming here for a bit.’

  ‘Yes.’ He looked away, pretending to study his hands. ‘I don’t know how I feel about it. Coming back here, I mean.’

  ‘How does Liv feel?’

  ‘I don’t know. I tried to talk to her about it yesterday but it didn’t go well. I didn’t realise we’d be working together, I thought she’d be in the midwife-led unit still, so yesterday was a bit fraught, and since I almost killed her by letting her fall under a car, we’ve had other things to think about.’

  Sam put his cup down and got to his feet.

  ‘I’ll leave you in peace. It’ll be good to have you near for a while, though, and let’s not lose touch this time. It’s been way, way too long and I didn’t realise how much I’d missed you.’

  He hugged Nick again, the gesture saying more than words ever could, and Nick waved him off and closed the door. The lump in his throat was so big now he could hardly swallow. What on earth was wrong with him today? He was an emotional wreck—

  ‘Has Sam gone?’

  He turned slowly and looked up the stairs at Liv. She must have showered, because her hair was wet and she was wearing a loose, comfortable dress that fell to her ankles. He was glad about that. It covered her bruises, which meant he wouldn’t be constantly reminded of them. If he didn’t look at her face...

  ‘Yeah, he’s gone. I thought you were napping? Did he say it was OK to wash your hair?’

  She nodded. ‘He said it would be fine so long as I didn’t soak in the bath, so I just showered to get the blood off, really. I feel much better now. Much less sore and a lot less grubby.’

  ‘Good. Will you be OK if I go out? I need to see Judy Richards, and Ben wants to talk to me about the job and what it entails which he was going to do yesterday evening, so I thought I’d walk to the hospital, then I can pick up your car after I’m done.’

  ‘Good thinking. I’ll get a parking fine if I don’t move it but I’m not sure I should drive yet. You know what insurance companies are like,’ she said, making her way carefully down the stairs. ‘And you also need to apologise to Ben for me for messing up your weekend—and don’t tell me again it was your fault.’

  He ignored that. ‘I’ll pick up some more milk while I’m out. Is there anything else you want?’

  She nodded. ‘Maybe some salad for lunch and something to have with it? Oh, and probably bread. I don’t have any decent bread.’

  ‘OK. Text me a shopping list—and I need the car key.’

  ‘I’ll just give you my set. There’s a house key on there as well, so you’ll be able to let yourself back in, just in case I have a nap on the sofa.’

  She found them in her bag and then hesitated before she dropped them into his outstretched hand, as though she was afraid to touch him. Very wise. He closed his fist around them, nodded, and let himself out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHE SPENT THE morning dozing on the sofa in the sitting room.

  It was the sofa she’d always thought of as his, the only one she used now. It had the best view of the garden, if you didn’t count the one from what they’d optimistically described as the family room, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to sit in there since their final showdown.

  Too many painful memories.

  But it had been glorious in the sitting room today, the sun streaming in and bringing the promise of spring with it, and between that and her sleepless night she’d struggled to stay awake, but lying awkwardly hadn’t done her neck any good so she’d retreated back to the bedroom for a nap.

  She was contemplating getting up and taking a walk around the garden when she heard the scrape of the key in the lock and his soft, ‘Hello? I’m back,’ as he closed the door.

  ‘I’m up here,’ she called, and she heard him run lightly up the stairs, tapping on the door as he walked in.

  The Nick she’d fallen in love with wouldn’t have knocked, and he would have bent down and kissed her, but this Nick didn’t, and it was shocking how much she’d missed that. How much she’d missed him.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so long. Have you been OK?’

  ‘I’ve been fine. Sleeping, mostly. How’s Judy?’

  ‘Good. Everything’s stable, the baby’s got a lovely strong heartbeat, her blood pressure’s fine and the placenta scan was OK. It’s just watch and wait until the blood test results come back. I got milk. Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘That would be great. Thanks.’

  He disappeared for a little while, and she could hear the kettle boiling and the sound of the fridge door being opened and shut as he put the shopping away, then after a moment he came back up the stairs with the coffee and a packet of almond thins.

  ‘My favourite biscuits!’

  He opened the packet and handed them to her, his smile a little crooked. ‘We aim to please.’

  ‘How did you get on with Ben?’

  ‘All right,’ he said thoughtfully. He put the biscuits down on t
he bed and propped himself up against the headboard beside her, his face troubled. ‘There’s a possibility Simon won’t come back.’

  ‘I did wonder. Was Ben trying to talk you into staying?’

  He chuckled quietly. ‘How did you guess? I said I’d do the locum partly to help Ben out of a bind and partly because I knew I needed to see you again, but we haven’t exactly got off to a flying start and I wouldn’t contemplate coming back permanently if you didn’t want me to, Liv. That wouldn’t be fair on either of us.’

  ‘No. No, it wouldn’t.’ She bit her lip, wondering what it would be like if he came back, and she realised she was hoping—desperately hoping—that it would happen. But only if he came back to her as well, and there was a question that was burning a hole in her, even though she wasn’t sure she’d want the answer despite agonising over it the whole time he’d been out—well, when she hadn’t been asleep, at least—but it was sort of relevant so she said it anyway.

  ‘That would depend on if there’s anybody else in your life now, because that would change things a lot. You know—someone you’re seeing? Suzanne, perhaps, or someone new?’

  His laugh sounded like disbelief, and he shook his head firmly. ‘No, Liv. Absolutely not, and certainly not Suze. I haven’t even seen her since the conference. I’ve been working in a different field so our paths don’t cross any more, and even if they did, our relationship was over seven years ago. Why would I want to go back to it? And, no, there isn’t anyone else, either. There hasn’t been anyone else. I’m not interested.’

  She stared at him, shocked by that admission. Her relationship with Nick was—or had been—physical. Very physical. Until it all went so horribly wrong.

  ‘No one at all?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Not even a minor fling, in more than a year?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Why would I?’

  ‘For sex?’ she offered, stating the obvious, and got the same sad, slightly disbelieving laugh.

  ‘With someone I don’t really want? No. Sex is just an itch, Liv. I can scratch it myself, and the only woman I really want threw me out, so that’s not a goer.’