A Mother by Nature

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘I could be a carpenter,’ he suggested, and Anna had a feeling he was only half joking.

  ‘I doubt if you’re good enough. Wood doesn’t heal.’

  He suppressed a smile. ‘Are you insinuating that my carpentry skills aren’t up to scratch?’ he said indignantly. ‘Damn cheek.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re wonderful. It doesn’t help your problem, though. You need a solution in three days,’ she reminded him, ‘and carpentry isn’t it.’

  Adam sighed and rammed a hand through his hair, leaving it rumpled. ‘So what do you suggest?’ he asked. ‘The hospital crèche is too crowded to take them and, anyway, they need to get to and from school. Besides, that doesn’t solve the problem of what I do at night when I’m on call. I need live-in help. I can’t get the kids up in the middle of the night and bring them with me every time.’

  ‘I could stay with you,’ she suggested.

  He was tempted—very tempted—but not because it solved anything. ‘How does that help?’ he asked sceptically. ‘You go to work as well.’

  ‘And they’re at school. I work from seven to three by choice. That means if they come to work with you at eight or thereabouts, they could get a taxi to school from the hospital, and I could pick them up at the end of the day. You could get home whenever you get home, I’ll be there at night when you’re on call, and there’d be the added bonus that we’d see each other every evening.’

  They would indeed. He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You really mean it, don’t you?’ he said in quiet amazement. ‘You’d do it.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, of course I mean it! Why would I not?’

  Adam searched her eyes for an age, then looked away, shaking his head. He could get addicted to her presence, and so could the kids. ‘No. It’s not a good idea.’

  ‘Have you got a better one?’

  ‘No,’ he told her honestly. ‘No, I haven’t.’ He thought of the children growing dependent on her, and asked himself how much difference two short weeks could make. Surely they wouldn’t get addicted that fast? ‘It’s only very temporary, I suppose,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Just until the new au pair comes in a fortnight.’

  ‘Was that a yes?’ Anna asked.

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t see I’ve got a choice,’ he said heavily. He knew he wasn’t being very gracious, but the thought of Anna there all the time was so tempting he thought it was clouding his judgement, and he was busy looking for the pitfalls. ‘It’s not ideal, but it solves nearly every problem. Can you switch your rota for the next two weeks so you’re on earlies?’

  She laughed softly. ‘I can do what I like with the darned rota. It’s my responsibility. I devise it. Certainly I can change it.’

  ‘I might have to take you up on your offer, then,’ he said with a smile, and she held out her hand.

  ‘Done,’ she said, as he shook it, and he felt a huge burden lifting off his shoulders.

  Whatever the drawbacks, however foolish it might be, at least he would know his children were safe, and that had to be the most important thing.

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. ‘You’re a wonderful woman, do you know that?’ he said quietly, and soft colour brushed her cheeks.

  ‘I just want to be able to get my hands on you day and night,’ Anna said, laughing dismissively, and he thought of the nights, when the children were asleep, and the hot rush of desire nearly choked him.

  Adam swallowed hard and picked up his glass, draining it. ‘Another one?’ he asked. ‘Or do you want to wait and have wine with our meal?’

  ‘You’re driving.’

  ‘I’m always driving. I don’t need to drink. What about you?’

  ‘Neither do I. Spring water would be fine, thanks.’

  She handed him her glass and smiled up at him, and he wondered how he was going to survive having her at home.

  No. That would be easy. The hard bit would be letting her go, and it suddenly dawned on him that he might have made a dreadful mistake.

  Anna moved in on Sunday evening, to the children’s great delight and excitement. She brought with her only the clothes that she’d need and the food left in the fridge, because her house was only a mile or so away and she could pop back for anything else, so ‘moving in’ was a bit of an exaggeration, but the children thought it was great fun.

  They helped carry her case and bag up to the attic, and Skye put her wash things out in the shower room while Jasper passed her the underwear from her little bag and Danny struggled to put her blouses on hangers.

  She gave him a hand once the underwear had been put away in the chest of drawers, and then there was a knock on the door and Adam appeared with a tray of tea, juice and biscuits. The children swooped on them instantly.

  ‘I thought refreshments might be in order, but you’ll need to be quick,’ he said, and she met his eyes over the children’s heads and smiled.

  ‘Thanks. Forget the biscuits, but I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’ He handed her a mug and she cupped her hands round it, sipping gratefully. ‘Mmm. Wonderful. Just what I needed.’ She looked around her and sighed softly. ‘This is a lovely room. I’m going to like staying here,’ she said in contentment.

  ‘Have you got everything you need?’

  Everything, she thought. Him, the children…

  ‘I’m sure I have. If not I can ask, can’t I, kids? You’ll help me.’

  ‘You’ve got loo paper and soap—I checked,’ Skye told her soberly.

  ‘Thank you, darling. That’s kind.’

  ‘I helped Daddy make the bed,’ Danny said proudly. ‘He gave you his quilt cover!’

  Adam laughed a little awkwardly. ‘It’s the only one without rips, I think. Our washing line at the other house was a bit near the fence, and there was a nail sticking out of it that used to catch the clothes. I keep meaning to go shopping, but I suppose I might as well wait and get something that goes with whatever we do to the rooms.’

  ‘That makes sense.’

  Anna smoothed her hand lightly over the fabric. His quilt cover. That would destroy any chance she might have had to sleep! ‘It’s very kind of you to be so considerate,’ she said, rather touched that all of them seemed to have gone to so much trouble over her visit.

  ‘I polished the table,’ Jasper said in satisfaction. ‘See.’

  She did. She saw shiny places, and places with dust on, and little fingerprints all over most of it. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said with a lump in her throat. ‘Thank you, Jaz. Thank you, all of you.’

  ‘Right, you lot, downstairs and get ready for bed. I’ll come down and see you in a minute.’

  They trailed off, grumbling gently, and Adam pushed the door to and sat down sideways on the bed next to her, one knee hitched up. ‘Are you sure you’ve got all you need?’ he asked again, and she nodded.

  ‘Sure. Do you want me to get the children ready for bed now?’

  He looked faintly startled. ‘Good grief, no!’

  ‘No? So what do you want me for?’ she asked curiously, and he gave a strangled laugh.

  ‘Apart from the obvious?’

  Warm colour slid up her throat and touched her cheeks, and he leant forward and brushed her lips with his.

  ‘Apart from the obvious,’ she echoed, her heart pattering in her chest.

  He shrugged. ‘Just the end of the day, like we said. If you just pick them up from school and bring them home and make sure they’re safe, that’s all I need. I don’t expect you to do anything except act as a safety net. You might want to cook the odd meal, but even that I’m not bothered about.’

  Adam reached out a hand and cupped her cheek, and she turned her face into his hand and kissed it lingeringly.

  ‘It’s good to have you here,’ he said gruffly. ‘Thank you, Anna. It’s a huge weight off my mind. The children’s safety and happiness are so important to me—I feel so responsible for them.’

  ‘I know you do. Does anyone ever tell you what a good father you are to
your children?’

  He looked away, a wry and slightly self-conscious smile quirking his lips. ‘Not often, but it’s not why I do it, so I don’t need the accolades. I just do my best. Sometimes it’s not enough, but most of the time we get by.’

  ‘They’re lucky to have you.’

  His mouth tightened. ‘Not as lucky as they thought they were going to be. It’s difficult sometimes, being alone, but it beats being held to ransom.’

  He stood up and retrieved the tray from the floor, gathered up the mugs and glasses and headed for the door. ‘I’ll see you later. Come on down when you’re ready for some company.’

  It was odd, Anna thought, watching the empty doorway. She didn’t know where she stood with him while she was in this role. Normally she would have gone downstairs and made herself at home with him, but tonight she felt a little shy and awkward, as if she should be staying in her room like the hired help.

  It was absurd. She knew it was absurd, and yet she felt as if she didn’t belong, and she realised why Helle had been homesick. It would be so easy to feel you had to stay up here out of his way.

  ‘Anna, what time do you want to eat?’

  She went out onto the landing and hung over the banisters. Adam was standing at the top of the first flight of stairs, looking up at her, and she felt suddenly silly for her reticence. Of course he expected her to join him!

  ‘Whenever,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to cook it?’

  He shook his head. ‘I was going to get a take-away. I’ve fed the children—I thought we could have a Chinese or Indian.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  Blow the unpacking, she thought. A few pairs of trousers and jeans weren’t going to come to any harm. She ran downstairs in her socks and joined him in the kitchen.

  ‘Have a look at the menu,’ he said, and they haggled over what they wanted and then later stole each other’s choices anyway. And then it was time for bed and suddenly she really didn’t know what he expected of her.

  With the children in the house, she felt it would hardly be appropriate as their relationship stood for her to sleep openly with him. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure if sneaking around and being deceitful was actually any better.

  ‘I’ll see you to your door,’ he said in an undertone as she paused at the bottom of the attic stairs. His mouth tipped in a sexy smile. ‘It’s only courteous.’

  ‘Of course,’ she agreed with an answering smile, and tiptoed up so as to not disturb the children.

  Once up there, he ushered her into her room, closed the door and leant back against it, drawing her into his arms.

  ‘I’ve been wanting to kiss you for hours,’ he confessed, and, threading his hands through her hair, he scattered kisses over her brow and lids and cheekbones, over the plane of her jaw, down over the sensitive skin of her throat.

  ‘Adam,’ she whispered urgently, and he lifted his head and found her mouth, answering her plea. Her hands settled on his chest, feeling the solid warmth of his body so near—

  ‘Daddy?’

  He dragged his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged. ‘Yes, darling,’ he called through the door. ‘I’m upstairs. I’m coming down now.’ He kissed Anna again, just briefly, and gave a rueful wink. ‘Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  He went out, closing the door softly behind him, and she went to bed alone but happy. Adam was near, very near, and he seemed to be mellowing.

  For the first time since he’d told her they were going nowhere, she felt a glimmer of hope. Cherishing it, she fell asleep and didn’t wake until he called her in the morning.

  That Monday Adam took Damian back down to Theatre and completed the surgery to his spine that would hold it in the final position, and then he removed the halo from his skull and the lower half of the frame from his pelvis.

  Damian was now as straight as he could be made, and he needed mobilisation and physiotherapy to get him back onto his feet. Adam wondered how much taller he would be. Typically, it was a couple of centimetres, but Damian had been more distorted than most and the gain might be more.

  Whatever, he was sure the boy would appreciate having his mobility restored and being shot of the restrictive Stryker bed and halo traction. He’d be able to turn his head, and look around, and sit, and walk with help—a great change from the immobility of the last three weeks.

  His bed was next to that of Richard Lewis, the boy with the fractured pelvis and spine, who had regained sensation rapidly following the accident and would make a complete recovery.

  In the meantime, Richard had to lie still, and Damian could spend some time with him and entertain him. Adam was sure Anna would find a way of bringing them together usefully.

  She was wonderful with the kids, Adam thought. She managed them all so well—the sick, the crotchety, the bored. She kept them cheerful, yet disciplined and under control. She was a natural with them, and with his own, and he thought again that she would be the most wonderful mother.

  The thought brought a pain he’d thought he’d forgotten, with an intensity he didn’t remember.

  He wanted to see her swollen with his child.

  It took his breath away, the pain. He dragged in some air, and tipped his head back, rolling his shoulders and flexing them.

  ‘You all right, Adam?’ the anaesthetist asked.

  ‘Yes—just a bit stiff. I need to move around for a minute. Perhaps you could close?’ he said to his registrar, and, stripping off his gloves, he left the operating room and went out into the corridor, resting his head back against the cool wall and closing his eyes.

  Damn. He’d thought he was over it, thought he’d come to terms with it, and in many ways he had, but there was something basic and primitive in him that needed to pass on his genes. He understood, he could rationalise it to death, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  He wanted to give Anna a child, and he couldn’t. And because he couldn’t, she’d leave him. Maybe not now, maybe not for years, but she was only twenty-eight. What about when she was thirty-eight? When the sands of time had run away for another ten years, what then? Would she feel the pressure of that last trickle of sand in the egg-timer?

  When had she become so important to him? When had he allowed her so close that she’d sneaked up inside him and become a part of him?

  Two weeks, he told himself. In two weeks the new au pair would come, and Anna would move out. And then, Adam told himself, he’d stop seeing her. Stop going round to her house and making love to her in her beautiful candle-lit bedroom, stop flirting with her and teasing her and kissing her every chance he got.

  It was unfair to her to trap her, to use her, to keep her on a string for his own benefit, no matter how much he needed her. He had to sever the link, cut her off, let her go for her own sake. He had to be cruel to be kind.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat, and shrugged away from the wall. His registrar wasn’t good enough to sew up Damian’s incision. It had been reopened, and it was harder to make a neat job under those circumstances. He owed it to Damian to do the best job he could.

  He scrubbed again, donned new gown and gloves and went back into the operating room.

  Adam was busy that week with emergencies, and so Anna hardly saw Adam on the ward. Damian was mobile at last, and loving every minute of it, and although he was still in a certain amount of pain, the freedom more than made up for it.

  Richard, the boy with the spinal and pelvic injuries, was the same age, and they struck up a friendship which Anna encouraged. Adam, on one of his flying visits to the ward, remarked on it to her.

  ‘It’s good for Damian, too,’ Anna said thoughtfully. ‘He was entertained by the others when he was trapped, and I think he realises it’s a chance to give back some of what was given to him. Hopefully he won’t get bored before Richard’s a bit more mobile.’

  ‘Mmm. I want to keep him pretty still for a while longer. That spinal fracture was pretty unstable and I know I’ve wired it tog
ether, but it may not be adequate if he does too much too soon. It does need time to heal. We’ll give him another week and then I’ll get it scanned again and see how much it’s healed. That’s one thing about kids—they do heal incredibly fast.’

  ‘How’s Ben Lancaster, by the way?’ she asked. ‘Have you seen him again?’

  ‘Yes, Lissa brought him in yesterday to have the stitches out and a new cast. It’s looking good. He’ll have the plates out in another couple of weeks and he’ll be fine. I’m pleased. The arm’s nice and straight, which is a miracle when you think how bent and twisted it was when he fell. I must mend that banister, by the way. Remind me to glue it tonight.’

  ‘Write it on your hand,’ she suggested with a smile, and he laughed.

  ‘That’ll look good in my clinic! I’ll just rely on your wonderful memory,’ he said, and then checked his watch and sighed. ‘I have to go, talking of clinics. I’ve had a couple of patients added onto the beginning of the list that I thought I should see urgently. One’s a knee following a ski injury. The GP’s written “IDK” on the letter. I’m not sure if that means “internal destruction of the knee” or “I don’t know”—could be either!

  ‘The other’s a baby with bilateral CDH. I may have to operate on her hips pretty soon, if the letter from her new GP is anything to go by. Apparently, it’s been missed until now, and speed is of the essence with these congenital dislocations.’

  ‘Will you do both cases tomorrow?’ Anna asked, and he shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know. How are we for beds? Most of the school bus kids have gone—have we got any capacity? I’ve got three others booked already.’

  She ran a mental eye over the ward, thinking of the tonsils, grommets and appendectomies that would be going home. ‘A little. An extra two would fit, if we don’t have a rash of emergencies. It might change by tomorrow, of course.’

  ‘I’ll check. I’ll book them provisionally if I think they need it. The ski knee will be quick, I suspect, probably an arthroscopy. The baby might take longer. I’ll keep you posted.’