Accidental Rendezvous

by Caroline Anderson

  Nick's mother wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek, then held her at arm's length and studied her. 'Oh, you haven't changed a bit! Oh, Sally, it's so nice to see you, I was hoping you'd be here. I've just popped in on my way back from Norwich airport to say hello to Nick, and I can't stay more than a few minutes, but I'm glad I've had a chance to see you.'

  'Me, too,' Sally said warmly, and drew her into the triage room, shutting the door. 'Have a seat for a minute. Nick's in Resus, he may well be a few minutes. I'd take you in the staffroom but I can't abandon my post. Can I get you a cup of tea?'

  She shook her head. 'No, I'm fine. I'd rather spend the time talking to you.' She leant forwards and squeezed Sally's arm. 'Of all his girlfriends over the years, you've always been my favourite.'

  Sally laughed a little awkwardly. 'I can't imagine why, after I broke up with him.'

  'What, because you refused to trail after him like a puppy? You had your own career. If it hadn't been for his stubborn pride I think you would have been together now. You should have been, I think. You were right for each other. He hasn't been happy since, you know.'

  Sally wondered if Mrs Baker knew about the mistress, but she kept quiet. It was none of her business and, anyway, she didn't have proof.

  Nick's mother fiddled with her keyring for a moment, then she looked up again and her eyes were over-bright. 'He told me about the baby, Sally,' she said gently. 'I'm so sorry—you shouldn't have had to go through that alone.'

  The grief that was never completely forgotten brought a sad smile to Sally's lips. 'I wasn't alone,' she corrected, touched by Mrs Baker's concern. 'I had my mother. She was wonderful.'

  'You should have had Nick.'

  'I know. Still, we can't turn back the clock.' She glanced through the glass panel in the door and saw a patient enter the department. 'Look, I'm sorry, I have to deal with someone. Can I point you at the staffroom and tell Nick you're here? He'll come and see you as soon as he can.'

  'Sure, of course. And it is lovely to see you again. I hope I'll be seeing more of you.'

  Sally dredged up a smile. 'Probably,' she lied, knowing it was unlikely. When Mrs Baker had left for the staffroom, Sally stuck her head round the door in Resus and told Nick his mother was there, and went back to her post.

  Half an hour later she saw her leave, and then Nick appeared.

  'Thanks for looking after her. Bit quiet round here, isn't it?'

  'Don't tempt fate,' she warned. 'It's about time, it's been chaos for days and we don't need another Frank. My stomach's still churning.'

  He smiled, his eyes creasing slightly, and the ache in her heart intensified. He perched a hip on her desk and looked down at her searchingly. 'You look tired,' he said bluntly.

  She pulled a face. 'Gee, thanks. I feel so much better now.'

  'Sorry, but you do. Is everything all right?'

  No, but there's nothing you can do, she thought. Our baby's dead, you're having an affair—life's just a peach, really. 'Everything's fine,' she assured him. 'I'm going to take a break before it gets busy again.'

  She stood up, her leg brushing his, and heat shot up it at the unexpected contact. 'I'll join you,' he said, defeating the object, but there was nothing she could say. Still, it was after two o'clock. She could escape soon.

  She got through her hasty teabreak by making small talk about his mother, and then, leaving the last few mouthfuls of tea, she went back to the triage room, just as a car pulled up outside and a hugely pregnant woman struggled out of it, a towel clutched between her legs.

  'Oh, no,' Sally muttered under her breath. 'Here we go.'

  She grabbed a wheelchair and went to meet them in the ambulance bay.

  'I'm—having my baby,' the woman gasped. 'I rang—they said the unit was shut, but I can't wait.'

  'It's OK,' Sally assured her, and turned to the husband. 'If you could quickly put your car in the car park, I'll take your wife in and make her more comfortable, all right?'

  'Fine. Her name's Linda, by the way. Linda Field.'

  'Thanks. OK, Linda, let's go and sort you out.' She flashed him a smile, dragged the wheelchair down to one of the more private cubicles away from the waiting area and beckoned to Nick on the way past.

  He arched a brow, disappeared into the stores for an obstetrics pack and reappeared just as she'd helped the woman up onto the bed. She propped the backrest up, stripped off Linda's trousers and underwear and covered her with a blanket.

  'This is Linda,' she told Nick. 'Her waters broke a few minutes ago, she's contracting every three minutes.'

  'Hello, Linda.' He perched on the edge of the bed and smiled reassuringly at her. 'Don't worry, you're in safe hands. How many babies have you had, or is this your first?'

  'Three—and they always come fast. I would have had it at home, but my midwife's out on another delivery because of the unit shutting, and I thought it was better to come here.'

  'Better to be on the safe side,' Nick agreed, quickly washing his hands and pulling on gloves. 'Sally, have you got obstetrics qualifications?'

  She shook her head. 'No. Have you?'

  He smiled. 'Oh, yes. I don't think we're going to have a problem, so long as you don't mind me playing midwife.'

  Linda shook her head and laughed a little desperately. 'I don't care who delivers it, just so long as someone does and it isn't before my husband gets back from parking the car—'

  She broke off, her face creasing with pain, and resting her head back she panted through the contraction.

  'That's it, nice and easy,' Nick murmured.

  The contraction passed, and he folded back the blanket. 'I'm just going to have a look at you, see how long we've got,' he told her, and while Sally opened the obstetrics pack and laid it out, he did a gentle internal to establish the stage of her labour.

  'I would say,' he murmured, 'that unless your husband parks that car pretty quickly, he might be out of luck.'

  'I'm here,' the man in question said, coming through the curtain in a flurry and skidding to a halt.

  'Don't worry, you haven't missed it,' Nick told him with a grin. 'Go and wash your hands. I might give you a job in a minute.'

  Good, Sally thought. That means I won't have to be involved. I really, really don't want to be here.

  'Do we need the obstetrics squad?' she asked, clutching at straws, but Nick shook his head.

  'I don't think so. They have all the fun. Have you had any problems with any of the others, Linda?'

  'No, none. They've all been totally straightforward.'

  'Right, then, in that case I think we can cope without them. Let me just have a listen. We might call them later to clear up after the excitement's over.'

  He put the baby trumpet to Linda's distended abdomen and pressed his ear to the other end, then beckoned to Mr Field. 'Here, have a listen. Lovely and regular.'

  Sally met Nick's eyes over the bed and raised a brow hopefully, but he smiled. 'Baby's fine. Call them if you want, but there's no problem. I doubt if they'll get here in time anyway.'

  Oh, God, please, let me out of here, Sally thought desperately. Not a baby. Please, not a baby...

  'Oh, hell, I want to push,' Mrs Field said through gritted teeth. 'Ow, damn, this is all your fault, Tony.'

  'Always is. It's the only time I get any credit for my part in it,' he said with a chuckle, and looked at Nick. 'If the rest were anything to go by, losing her temper means she's about to have it.'

  'I think so,' Nick said with a grin, and checked again. 'Yes, the baby's head's crowning. Nice and steady, just pant—that's it, don't push, nice and easy does it.' He put his fingers under the baby's forehead and lifted gently, and the head slipped free, followed in a second by the rest of the baby's body in a slippery rush.

  'It's a girl,' he said, lifting up the squalling infant and resting her over Linda's now soft abdomen. 'There you are—clever girl. Well done.'

  'Oh, she's gorgeous! Hello, darling,' Linda said, and tears poured down her cheek
s. 'Oh, my little one, you're so tiny. Hello, precious. Oh, Tony, look at her!'

  Amy was tinier, Sally thought, choking back tears as she watched the ecstatic mother stroke her hand over the precious little body. Tinier and much more frail. This baby was beautiful and healthy and lusty, the way Amy should have been, and a huge sadness welled up in her and threatened to suffocate her.

  'Well done,' she murmured, and Linda flashed her a smile, her eyes sparkling with tears.

  'Thank you.' She looked back down at the baby, her hand trembling as she touched her, and her husband smiled and blinked back tears and hugged her.

  They were so lucky, Sally thought. Four children now, and so much joy. Her heart ached for what she and Nick had lost, and for what they'd never have.

  'What are you going to call her?' Nick was asking. Linda didn't hesitate. She just smiled contentedly.

  'Amy. It means beloved.'

  The pain hit Sally like an express train, shattering her with its intensity, stealing her breath and leaving her devastated.

  'I'll get the obstetrics team,' she said, and pushed blindly past Nick into the corridor. She had to get away, to hide.

  'Sally?' Ryan called after her as she ran past him, and she hesitated.

  'Get the obstetrics team—cubicle ten,' she said, and then kept running until she hit the safety of the Ladies, and then she shut herself in and sank down onto the floor while the pain tore her apart.

  * * *

  'Where's Sally?'

  Meg looked up at Nick and shook her head. 'Don't know. Why?'

  'Ryan saw her running down the corridor towards the theatre lifts, right after the baby was born, and I haven't seen her since. I don't know where she is, but I want to find her and I don't know where to start. Can you help me? She's not answering her bleep.'

  Meg stood up straight away. 'I'll check the loos. That's where she usually goes if something upsets her.'

  Nick followed her, fear clutching at him. He'd caught a glimpse of her face as she'd pushed past him, but because of Linda and the baby he'd been unable to follow her.

  Now, though, the obstetrics team was there, and he'd left them to it. His first priority had to be Sally, and he was kicking himself for being so blind. Of course the delivery was going to upset her. It was bound to, after what had happened, and to have called the baby Amy was the last straw.

  'She's in here,' Meg said, popping her head round the door. 'I can hear her sobbing, but she won't talk to me. Nick, what happened?'

  'It's a long story. It's OK, Meg, I'll deal with it. Leave her to me. Is there anyone else in there?'

  'No.'

  'Right. Keep it that way.'

  He pushed past her, knocked on the locked cubicle door and waited, but there was no response, just a hiccuping sob from the other side. He fished a coin out of his pocket and unlocked the door, but he couldn't shift it. She must be sitting against it. He bent down and he could see her hip wedged up against the door.

  He shook his head. He had no choice. Going into the adjoining cubicle, he stood on the pan, prayed that the cistern was firmly fixed to the wall, rested his foot on it and peered over.

  Sally was hunched up by the door, her head against the wall, and her body was shuddering violently.

  Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and hauled himself up, swivelled over the top and dropped down lightly on the floor beside her.

  'Sally?' he said softly. 'Sally, talk to me.'

  She lifted a face ravaged by tears, and the pain in her eyes tore through him. ;

  'It's all right, sweetheart, I'll get you out of here,' he murmured, and lifted her into his arms.

  She hardly weighed anything, he thought as she burrowed up against his chest and wrapped her arms round him like a limpet. He went out into the corridor. Meg was hovering worriedly, and he gave her a grim smile.

  'Is she all right?' Meg asked, and he nodded.

  'I hope so. Tell Ryan I've taken her home.' He paused in the staffroom, grabbed his jacket and her bag from their lockers and headed for the door, oblivious to the looks he was attracting.

  He didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was getting Sally home and taking care of her. He put her in his car, fastened her seat belt and drove to his house. It didn't even occur to him to take her to her own house; all he knew was that he had to keep her safe, and that meant close by him.

  He pulled up outside, unlocked the door and then led her in on shaky, uncooperative legs. 'Come and sit down,' he instructed, and led her into the sitting room before pushing her gently into a sofa.

  She curled up in the foetal position, a cushion clutched to her chest, and he locked his car and ran back inside, almost afraid to leave her.

  She hadn't moved. He didn't know what he thought she'd do left alone, just that she needed him, needed something to cling to, something strong and safe and unchangeable, and just then he was the best thing she had.

  He sat down beside her, drew her gently into his arms and held her close. 'It's all right, darling,' he murmured. 'It's all right.'

  A shudder ran through her, and he ran a hand gently over her hair and smoothed it back, stroking her rhythmically until the shuddering eased and she fell into an uneasy sleep in his arms.

  The cat came and miaowed at him, but he ignored it and after a while it went away, presumably to find someone else to feed it, because it came back again about midnight and settled down on the other sofa and snored softly.

  Sally's body was relaxed now, exhausted with emotion probably, and Nick eased her out of his arms and went to the loo, made himself a quick sandwich and a drink and came back to the sofa. It might get cold as the night wore on, he thought, and after he'd eaten, he lifted her carefully in his arms without disturbing her and carried her up to his bedroom.

  Then, without bothering to undress her or disturb her any more, he laid her down under the quilt, changed into a pair of pyjamas that hadn't seen the light of day in years and slipped in beside her.

  She wriggled closer, and he wrapped her in his arms, smoothed her hair gently and then finally, at about three o'clock, he drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sally woke to the sound of birds, the purring of a cat and Nick's soft snore in her ear.

  She opened her eyes, and found herself face to face with the stray Nick had taken pity on. He seemed to be doing that rather a lot, she thought, remembering yesterday with a shudder of dismay.

  She'd made a real fool of herself, but it had just got to her. Silly. One would think by now she'd be over it, but apparently not. Maybe there were some things that you just didn't get over.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she realised she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. She needed the loo, she needed food and she needed to shower and change before she was due at the hospital in— she peered at Nick's bedside clock—one and a half hours.

  She shifted experimentally, and his arm tightened around her waist. He sighed and settled back to sleep, his arm relaxing again, and very carefully, so as not to disturb him, she eased out from under his arm, picked up her shoes from the floor beside the bed and tiptoed down to the kitchen.

  The cat was on the stool, miaowing pathetically, and she hunted about and found half a tin of cat food in the fridge. 'You're spoilt. You could go home, you know,' she muttered, and mashed some into a saucer for him. The cat taken care of, she took a trip to the bathroom, tracked down her handbag in the sitting room and called a taxi, then, after she'd written Nick a note, she let herself out and waited round the corner on the little ring road that ran round the estate.

  The taxi came ten minutes later, and once home she showered, pulled on a clean uniform and caught the bus to work. She arrived with five minutes to spare, and used the time to make herself a cup of tea and raid the biscuit tin.

  'Not many in there,' the night staff nurse said with a grimace, popping in to get a glass of water. 'It's been one of those nights. We haven't had time to go to the canteen, so we've been stuffi
ng biscuits. We're going to have to put up our contributions to the kitty if it goes on like this. Right, I'll go and finish off. I'll see you for report in a minute.'

  'OK. I'll go and get another packet of biscuits on the way,' Sally promised, but she didn't have to because Nick arrived at that moment with three different sorts and tipped them into the biscuit tin.

  'Breakfast,' he said economically. 'Since I know you won't have had time for any.'

  'You're a star,' she murmured gratefully, and he grunted and sat down across the corner from her and shot her a look.

  'You OK?' he said, his voice gruff with concern, and she nodded.

  'I'm fine. Thank you for yesterday. It just all got too much.'

  'Does anyone here know?'

  'About Amy?'

  He nodded, and she shook her head. 'No. I didn't see the need to tell them. I suppose it's going to be pretty difficult to explain otherwise, though, isn't it?'

  'Blame it on hormones. Tell them you had PMS.'

  She gave a soft laugh. 'I'd almost rather tell them the truth,' she confessed. 'The thought of all that ragging every time I lose it is just too awful to contemplate.'

  He smiled at her, but his eyes were worried and she had the distinct feeling he was going to shadow her like a hawk. It was the last thing she needed, but she couldn't say so.

  'Nick, I am all right,' she assured him quietly. 'I'm not going to do anything silly, and I won't collapse on you. It just brought it all back, but I'm fine now. It was just—everything.'

  'Everything?'

  Bad choice of word, she thought, unless she was prepared to explain about her reaction to his affair and how she regretted letting him go, not to mention how very, very much she longed to have his baby.

  'Oh, you know, work and so on. I'm tired—you said so yourself. I probably need to take it easy.'

  There was a little grunt, as if he didn't quite believe her, but he let it go and concentrated instead on getting the coffee-machine under way.

  She drained her tea and stood up, then paused beside him for a moment. 'Thanks for last night, Nick,' she said softly. 'You're a real friend, you know that?'