His Very Own Wife and Child

by Caroline Anderson

  Patrick laughed softly and Jack felt the bench beside him give a little. ‘Not at the moment. Annie’s putting Katie to bed, and, anyway, I wanted to talk to you. I’ve hardly had a chance today.’

  His internal radar started to bleep a warning. ‘No, it’s been a bit busy. Great day, though,’ he said, trying to head him off, but Patrick wasn’t having any of it.

  ‘Yes, it was. Fantastic. I’m glad you could make it, but I’m not sure about Sally.’

  He went still. ‘Sally?’ he said cautiously.

  ‘Oh, come on, Oz. We go way back. I know you inside out. What’s the story?’ Patrick’s voice was soft, coaxing in the darkness, and he sighed and surrendered to the inevitable. It was time he told him.

  ‘We had an affair—probably the briefest and hottest on record.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And Clare turned up and told me she was pregnant. Said if I wanted to see my child, I’d marry her.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I know. Now. But not then. So I left Sal, and I married Clare. And I made what was probably the biggest mistake of my life.’

  There was a long silence, then Patrick exhaled sharply. ‘Hell, I’m sorry. I had no idea, you didn’t tell me.’

  ‘You were up to your eyes with Ellie. It was only a few months after her stroke. I wasn’t going to come and bleat to you about the mess my love life was in, was I? But, God, I needed to. I could have done with a shoulder at that time.’

  ‘And I didn’t even realise.’ Patrick’s breath eased out on a sigh. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.’ He was quiet for a moment, then he said in a low voice, ‘Oz, don’t mess with Sally. Things aren’t really good between her and David. Annie doesn’t know why, and Sally hasn’t said anything, but she doesn’t look happy.’

  He sighed. ‘I noticed—but don’t worry. I won’t upset the apple cart. Three weeks and I’m out of here. And even I can keep my hands to myself for three weeks.’

  ‘It’s not your hands I’m worried about,’ Patrick said softly. ‘It’s your heart—and hers.’ He felt a hand rest briefly on Jack’s shoulder, then there was a crunch of gravel and the bench shifted. ‘Take care, my friend. Of both of you.’

  He grunted. ‘Never mind about me. Go and make love to your beautiful wife before she falls asleep.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to,’ Patrick said softly, and Jack stifled a pang of regret. He’d made his bed with Clare nine years ago. And David was in Sally’s. Were they making love right now?

  Hell.

  No. He wouldn’t think about it. He’d just get through the night, and then he’d be free—except he’d promised to work in the same damned hospital as her.

  Well, he’d just have to keep his head down and avoid her. Hospitals were big places. It couldn’t be that hard.

  ‘Have you missed me?’

  Angie laughed wryly and threw Sally a grin. ‘I haven’t had time to notice! You’re on Triage this morning, to ease you back in. Don’t want to shock you too much. How was the wedding?’

  ‘Fabulous,’ she said truthfully. ‘I haven’t had so much fun in ages. It was a really fantastic party, and coming right after our holiday like that was perfect. I feel really refreshed.’

  ‘Good. I’m really glad you enjoyed it. You were looking tired.’

  ‘I was. The break’s done us good.’ Not that David had said much since the wedding, but that was par for the course.

  ‘I gather Tom’s stolen one of the wedding guests to locum for us.’

  She frowned. ‘Really? Who?’

  ‘Jack Logan. He’s going to cover for Al.’

  No! Sally felt her colour drain, then flood back. ‘Ah—sorry, I feel a bit queasy. I need some air—must be the jetlag still. Give me a minute and I’ll go and get set up in the triage room.’

  And she escaped, heart pounding, legs like jelly.

  Not Jack. Not here, in her department, right underfoot where she couldn’t get him out of her mind. She was having enough trouble as it was.

  She hadn’t seen him again after that dance. She’d excused herself and gone to check on the boys, and she hadn’t come down again. Cowardly? Perhaps, or perhaps just prudent. Whatever, he’d left the next day, Wednesday—heavens, was that only yesterday?—before they’d come down for breakfast, and she’d felt a pang of regret mixed with the relief, and quickly crushed it.

  And today she’d rushed around, sorting out the kids and ferrying them to holiday club before coming to work, and now, just when she’d hoped she’d be so busy she didn’t have time to think about him, he was going to be here for days!

  Weeks?

  Her legs threatened to crumple again. Please, God, not weeks.

  She took a steadying breath and went back inside, picking up the first set of notes. ‘Mrs Collier?’

  ‘Hiding from me?’

  The soft, gruff words had her head snapping up. She shot him a mocking smile and sucked in some air. ‘Hardly. Why would I?’

  ‘I have no idea, but we’ve got a big RTA coming in and Tom wants us to work together. He says you’ll keep me out of mischief.’

  She’d keep them both out of mischief, she thought, given enough strength to do so. ‘So who’s on Triage if I leave it?’

  He shrugged, those broad, strong shoulders shifting under his shirt. ‘That’s not my worry. You are.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about me, Jack,’ she told him firmly. ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

  Running, as hard as she could, in the opposite direction!

  She was great to work with.

  As she’d said, she knew exactly what she was doing, and she seemed to know what he was doing, too, so although he’d never been there before or worked with her in this way, he found her anticipating his needs, handing him things, doing others without having to be asked, and once their patient was stable and away to Theatre she cleared the area, checked the stock and sorted it out herself.

  ‘Why don’t you delegate that to a junior member of staff?’ he asked, and she blinked at him in surprise.

  ‘Because I know what we’ve used, I know your preferences now, and I’ve made sure we’re equipped for that as well as for anyone else who might be in here. And nobody else could do it as fast or as easily, so it makes sense.’

  It did, and it also made sense that she worried about that sort of thing. She’d never been one for letting things happen by chance. Even the first time they’d made love, she’d been in control of when and where, and had set the scene. Beautifully.

  And he really didn’t need to think about that when he was dressed in flimsy scrubs and the department was crawling with onlookers!

  ‘Right, I’m going back to Triage now,’ she said firmly, as their patients were all sorted and the place had quietened down. He watched her go with a mixture of relief and regret and, letting out a sharp sigh, he went to find Tom and volunteer his services for the next case.

  ‘We need to talk.’

  She looked up from the ironing and frowned at the serious tone of David’s voice. ‘What about?’

  ‘Us,’ he said, and with a sudden disquieting sense of inevitability, she turned off the iron, put it down on the heat-proof rest and met his eyes.

  ‘Us?’

  He nodded. She could see a pulse beating in his neck, and his mouth was set in a grim line. ‘Come and sit down. This isn’t easy and I don’t really know where to start.’

  She went, her legs suddenly weak and her heart pounding, and sat beside him on the sofa. He took her hand, resting it on his lap and staring down at it as if he was looking for the words there on her skin.

  She couldn’t help him. She was filled with the guilt of her disloyalty, of her feelings for Jack so recently reawakened and never, it seemed, really gone. So she waited, and after an age he said abruptly, as if it was the only way he could get the words out, ‘I can’t do this any more. I can’t live a lie. Being with you, pretending everything’s fine, finding excuses for not making love to you�
��’

  He broke off and she stared at their joined hands, puzzled by his words. OK, so they hadn’t made love since the wedding but they hadn’t made love before the wedding, either—not for ages. Months. Not this year, certainly, and it was already April. And not for ages before that. He hadn’t suggested it and, to be honest, neither had she. So that wasn’t new, and it couldn’t be anything to do with Jack, so what, then?

  ‘Why is it a lie?’

  He shrugged, his brow furrowed as if he was struggling for the right words. ‘Seeing Annie and Patrick together at the wedding, realising what it ought to be like—it isn’t like that for us, and it never has been, but that’s what it should be like. Could be like.’ He took a deep breath, then said hurriedly, ‘Sally, I’m in love.’

  In love? David was in love?

  And then it hit her. All the hours he’d worked late, all the times he’d phoned and said he’d be another hour, all the times he’d worked at the weekend. She’d even joked about it, said if she didn’t know better she’d think he was having an affair with his PA…

  ‘It’s Wendy, isn’t it?’ she asked, her voice not quite steady, and he nodded.

  ‘Yes, it’s Wendy—and I love her, as I never thought I could ever love again.’

  And something in the tone of his voice as he spoke Wendy’s name made her realise it was the truth. He’d never said her name like that, like a caress. Oh, dear God. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on, tightening his grip, his face working.

  ‘We haven’t done anything,’ he said gruffly. ‘We aren’t having an affair. It wasn’t right—not while I’m still here with you and the boys.’

  ‘But you want to.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, we want to. I want to marry her, Sally. I want to have the right to look at her as Patrick looked at Annie. I want to have children with her—go to bed with her, wake up with her, for the rest of my life. But I didn’t want to hurt you. You’ve been hurt enough—and then I saw you with Jack, dancing, and it all suddenly made perfect sense. It’s him, isn’t it? He’s the one.’

  Oh, lord. He knew. Her heart thudded, but there was no point in denying it, so she nodded, and she felt his hand tighten on hers, squeezing it comfortingly.

  ‘Funny, how you’ve never mentioned his name, but it didn’t seem important. If I’d known, maybe I could have helped you at the wedding, but I was missing Wendy and wondering how to tell you, and I wasn’t a lot of use to you, was I?’

  She found a smile from somewhere. ‘You didn’t have to give me to him quite so enthusiastically when he asked if he could dance with me,’ she chided gently, and he groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.

  ‘Sorry. God, you must have wanted to kill me, but I just didn’t think—I didn’t realise until later, when I saw you dancing. Is it going to make everything very complicated?’

  She gave a little huff of despairing laughter. ‘I hope not. He’s only here three weeks.’

  ‘Nevertheless—you’ve never got over him, have you? I thought I hadn’t got over Jess, never would, but when I met Wendy I realised I could love again—really love, like Patrick and Annie. And going on as we are, it’s just—I can’t do it any longer. Life’s not a dress rehearsal. Heard that so many times, but it’s true. And I don’t want to throw this chance of happiness away. If I felt you were happy with me—’

  ‘What? You’d throw away your chance with Wendy? No. I can’t let you do that. I am happy, though,’ Sally added. ‘You’ve given me so much. And if I’m not, it’s not your fault. You’ve been the best friend—’

  ‘But not your soul-mate.’

  She swallowed, trying not to think of Jack. ‘No. Not my soul-mate,’ she agreed. ‘And if you feel that much for Wendy, then of course you should be together.’

  He nodded, then his fingers tightened on hers. ‘It’s just the boys…’

  He broke off, and a tear slid down his cheek and splashed on their hands. ‘It’s going to really cut them up. I’m so sorry.’

  She pulled her hand free, put her arm round his shoulders and pulled him into her arms. ‘Don’t be,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve been a wonderful father to the boys, and I can never regret that, and we’ve been good friends, but really that’s all, you’re right, and if you can have what Patrick and Annie have got, then you should…’

  Her voice cracked, and he wrapped her in his arms and rocked her against his chest while they both wept for the loss of their marriage, the failure, the regrets, the guilt—so many feelings, but there was no surprise.

  She’d known it was coming. It had been coming for years, but Wendy starting work for him nine months ago had been the catalyst for this. That and the wedding. And Jack.

  She straightened up and sniffed, groping in her pocket for a tissue and scrubbing at her nose.

  ‘So when are you moving out?’ she asked, struggling for control of an uncontrollable situation.

  ‘I don’t know. I need to talk to Wendy and the boys.’

  ‘Will you go to her house?’

  ‘I don’t know. It depends what you think, what the boys think, but I can’t stay here any more. Not now. Not now I’ve made the decision and talked to you.’

  ‘No.’ No, he couldn’t stay, she could see that, even though it would seem so strange without him. Then the enormity of it struck her, and she shook her head, staring at him in dismay. ‘How are we going to tell the boys?’

  ‘Together. We’ll do it tomorrow. Not tonight, there’s no point. They might as well sleep, and give us time to come to terms with it. Come on, you need to go to bed.’

  Bed? Bed? she thought hysterically. Which bed? But David just smiled a sad smile. ‘It’s OK. I need to see Wendy—and then I’ll come back and sleep on the sofa.’

  ‘You will come back—before the morning? I can’t tell the boys on my own.’

  ‘I’ll come back. I promise.’

  She knew he would. David didn’t break his promises.

  Well, not until now.

  She listened to the front door close, his car pull out of the drive, and then she went upstairs, to the room she’d shared with her husband, and got into the bed she’d slept in with him last night, and wondered how on earth they’d tell the boys.

  ‘You look like hell.’

  She stared into Jack’s sombre face blankly, and it started to blur. ‘I’m sorry—I can’t—’

  His fingers caught her chin, turning her back towards him. ‘Sal, what’s happened?’ he said, his voice gentle.

  Damn. She’d thought she could do this, thought she could cope, but apparently not. She shook her head, all her emotions suddenly rushing to the surface and threatening to swamp her. ‘David…’

  ‘Is he ill?’

  She shook her head again. ‘No. He’s…’ She couldn’t finish, couldn’t bring herself to say ‘left me’. ‘There’s someone else,’ she said eventually, and he swore under his breath and threw his arm round her shoulders, guiding her out of the department, down a corridor and into an empty room.

  She didn’t know whose. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered any more.

  He shut the door, propped himself against it, arms folded, and fixed her with those all-seeing slate-blue eyes. ‘Tell me,’ he said softly.

  ‘He’s in love with his PA—Wendy,’ she said, still wondering over the way he’d said the word. Funny, when she said it, it was just a name, but on David’s lips…

  ‘Does he know you know?’

  She nodded. ‘Oh, yes. He told me on Friday. We told the boys on Saturday morning, then yesterday afternoon he took them to meet her and her daughter, and see the house, and then he brought them back and went—moved out. Well, some of his things, anyway. He’s got the rest to move some time, I suppose.’

  And the children would have to endure it, watching him carrying his possessions out of the house, breaking up their home…

  ‘What brought it on?’

  ‘I think it’s been coming for ages, but it was the wedd
ing that did it.’

  ‘Because of me?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not really,’ she said, and it was true. Maybe it had just been the catalyst. Her eyes filled again and she scrubbed them angrily. ‘Because of Annie and Patrick being so happy. It just brought his feelings to the surface, made him realise what he was missing.’ She gave a tiny, humourless laugh. ‘So much for me telling you I didn’t have a loveless marriage, but I really didn’t think it was.’

  He made a soft sound of commiseration. ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I can’t believe I was so stupid. And I can’t think about it now, I have to work. I can’t let this get in the way.’

  ‘But people need to know. Tom, Angie—they’re not just friends, they’re colleagues, and they need to know so they can watch out for you.’

  ‘I don’t want them watching out for me,’ she protested, but he just raised a brow.

  ‘I think you have a professional duty to tell them that you may not be up to scratch.’

  ‘I am up to scratch.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Your husband’s just moved out, your marriage is over—even if he wasn’t the love of your life, you’ve still got the upset of the kids. Of course you aren’t going to be functioning right. Where are the kids, by the way?’

  ‘With David,’ she said tonelessly. ‘At the office. They were supposed to be going to holiday club but we didn’t think it would be a good idea today. He came over at six-thirty just before I left.’

  ‘So there’s nobody at home? You could go back and rest?’

  She felt panic rising in her chest. ‘Jack, don’t make me go home. I can’t stand it there, it’s so empty.’

  ‘Ah, hell,’ he muttered, and shrugging away from the door he dragged her into his arms, crushing her against his chest and mumbling furiously against her hair. She couldn’t understand him, couldn’t hear the words, but she didn’t think they were complimentary. ‘Stay here,’he said, releasing her at last. ‘I’ll go and tell them we’re taking a break, and we’re going out for coffee. Then you can come back and Angie can find you something to do.’

  ‘Triage,’ she suggested, but he shook his head. ‘