The Patterson Girls

by Rachael Johns

  ‘I guess I’d better be going,’ she said reluctantly after devouring three slices of pizza.

  ‘I’ll call you a cab.’ Nigel pushed himself off the floor, where they’d been sitting while they ate and talked.

  ‘No,’ she argued, thinking that even the fare from here to her place would break her budget.

  As if reading her mind, Nigel said, ‘I’m paying and there’s no arguments.’

  She didn’t really want to tackle the Tube this late at night—where she’d either freeze to death or have to put up with some drunken lout—so she relented. ‘Thank you.’

  Nigel helped her into her coat, zipped it up like she were a little girl and then kissed her again in a way that said she was most definitely not. Pleasant shivers skittered down her spine. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said, not making any commitments about when as he opened the front door and then slipped a fifty pound note into her hand.

  She frowned down at the note, feeling uneasy about taking his money after what they’d just done. As if reading her mind, he squeezed her hand. ‘If it makes you feel better you can consider it a loan, but no way am I letting you take public transport at this time of night.’ Then he dipped his head and kissed her again.

  A black cab was already waiting a few metres away, its bright headlights piercing the dark. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered as she turned and ran out into the night.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Madeleine waited at the entrance of a little café not far from the hospital, glancing furtively at all the tables and wondering if the man she was about to meet was already sitting there. She pulled out her phone, clicked a few buttons and brought up his photo on her screen. Although the café was rapidly filling up with people coming from work to an early dinner, she was certain her guy wasn’t here yet.

  She sighed and decided to sit anyway. As she pulled out a seat at a table by the window, she silently prayed—something she didn’t do often—that this man would be the one. Since returning from Australia two weeks ago, her life had been consumed with two things; work and her baby project. She was quite happy with this status quo but only wished things could happen a little faster. After signing up for the known donor website, she’d spent countless hours scrolling through possible biological fathers for her child. Using her detailed checklist, she’d narrowed down her options to a top five, all of whom lived in Maryland.

  She had exchanged emails with all five men and from their correspondence, quickly ruled out a further three. Now it was time to assess the final two in person and hopefully make a decision so they could start trying in a couple of weeks. Although Madeleine knew women should ideally be taking folate supplements for at least three months before trying to conceive, she already ate a balanced diet and exercised regularly so felt confident in her body and health.

  ‘Hello? Are you Madeleine?’

  She looked up at the unfamiliar voice and took a couple of seconds to recognise the speaker as Potential Donor Number One. To say he looked different to his profile picture would be a gross understatement.

  ‘Um, yes, hi,’ she said, standing and offering out her hand, trying but failing miserably not to stare at the pink and blue streaks in his jet-black hair. In his photo, he’d been wearing a business suit; today he wore oil-streaked jeans and a torn leather jacket. And a weird smell was coming off him. ‘And you must be …’

  ‘Ross. Ross Clark.’ He shook her hand so hard it hurt and then sat down in the seat opposite her. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Yes.’ She pursed her lips together, not quite able to say the same. First impressions didn’t instil her with a whole lot of confidence.

  They smiled at each other awkwardly across the table and then Ross joked, ‘Maybe we should have met in a bar. That way we could have a drink to settle the nerves.’

  ‘Shall I order us some coffee?’ she asked, telling herself she needed to give this a proper chance. So, he had blue and pink hair and he’d gotten a nose ring since the photo, but that stuff was superficial.

  ‘Good plan.’

  Madeleine summoned a waitress, ordered their drinks and then turned back to Ross, trying to work out how to start their conversation. It felt oddly like a first date, except a) Ross wasn’t her type, b) they had more important things to talk about than favourite movies, food and football teams and c) they’d already exchanged so many emails over the past week that she felt like they knew each other very well. At least, she had until she’d met him in person. He certainly didn’t look like the lawyer he claimed to be.

  ‘I must admit, I was a little bit nervous about meeting you,’ Ross said, tapping his long fingernails on the tabletop. They matched his hair, alternating pink and blue nail polish. ‘It’s like I’m in some job interview or something. But it also feels like meeting up with a long-lost friend. How’s your sister by the way?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Lucinda.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Madeleine nodded, remembering how in her first email she’d mentioned her younger sister was also trying to get pregnant. As it happened, she and Luce had had a lengthy conversation the other day—quite unusual for them—and she’d been pleased to hear Lucinda and Joe were going to see her friend in Perth about their fertility issues. ‘She’s good, thanks.’

  ‘Excellent. So have you told her what we’re doing?’

  Madeleine blinked, wondering for a moment what he was talking about. ‘Oh.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I’ve only told a couple of close friends. What about you?’

  ‘Sure.’ Ross beamed. ‘I’ve told everyone I know. They can’t wait to meet our baby.’

  Madeleine’s heart went cold. Alarm bells rang loud and clear inside her head. She made a funny noise in her throat. ‘Um, Ross, that wouldn’t be the agreement. We’ve already talked this through. You’d be a legal donor, that’s it. We’d have an agreement drawn up, you’d bring me sperm at the right time of the month and then if it worked, we’d never see each other again. Well, not until the child was of legal age and could look for you—if that’s what he or she desired.’

  Ross frowned, reached across the table and took her hand. A shudder of revulsion shot through her as his thumb rubbed slowly against the tender skin of her wrist. ‘I would come to you when the time was right and we would make love to conceive the child. I believe all children should be conceived in love.’

  Madeleine blinked and yanked back her hand. Who was this nutter? Was this some kind of cruel joke? ‘No, Ross, that was never on the agenda. I barely know you and I certainly don’t love you.’ The thought of ‘making love’ with him made her skin crawl.

  At that moment the waitress arrived with their coffee and Ross suddenly burst into tears. The waitress looked at Madeleine like she murdered puppies in her spare time and other patrons in the café began to glance over at them as well. Another woman might have felt sympathy for the snivelling punk in front of her, but Madeleine only felt anger, frustration and annoyance that he’d wasted her time. She pulled out her purse, slapped a ten-dollar note on the table, then stood and stormed out of the café into the rain.

  ‘Well, that was a total and utter waste of time.’ She cursed under her breath as she opened her umbrella and then stalked down the sidewalk to the restaurant where she’d agreed to meet Hugo and Celia for dinner. The minute she got there she would get out her phone and report Ross Clark for breaching the terms and conditions of the known donor website. The man was a lunatic if ever she’d met one.

  As Madeleine sat at the bar of one of the finest restaurants in Baltimore waiting for her friends to arrive, she eyed the row of bottles on the wall and almost succumbed to the urge to order a stiff drink. If Potential Donor Number Two was as dire as Potential Donor Number One had been, then it might be a while before she got to the sperm-meets-egg stage of the process. What harm would one little drink do?

  ‘Evening,’ the smartly dressed barman smiled at her. ‘What can I get for you?’

  She opened her mouth to ask for a vodka tonic,
but changed her mind at the last second. ‘Just a club soda, please,’ she said instead, deciding that Madeleine Patterson wasn’t the type to let one little setback keep her down. She wanted this baby more than anything and she wasn’t going to let the likes of Ross Clark stop her.

  Still, despite her bravado, when Hugo walked in, he took one look at her, cocked his head to the side and said, ‘Disaster?’

  She sighed as he leaned forward and gave her a quick hug. ‘That is the understatement of the century.’

  ‘Let me order a drink and then you can tell Uncle Hugo all about it,’ he said as he took the stool beside her.

  She tried to laugh at his words, but it didn’t quite come out that way. Why couldn’t she find a donor like Hugo? Someone who was smart, intelligent, not crazy and also just happened to be incredibly good-looking. She stared at his profile as he made small talk with the barman and couldn’t help but imagine what her baby would look like if he were the father. He ticked all her boxes, except for one thing …

  ‘Where’s Celia?’ she asked.

  Hugo thanked the barman for his beer and then turned back to Madeleine. ‘She just messaged to say she’s running late and that we should go ahead and order without her. Apparently she got held up in surgery this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ Celia was a paediatric otolaryngologist, and often dealt with the ear, nose and throat problems of the children that Hugo and Madeleine had brought into the world.

  Before Madeleine could say anymore, the maître d’ approached them. ‘Your table is ready, or would you prefer to wait for the third member of your party.’

  Hugo shook his head and stood. ‘No, unfortunately, she’s running late.’ He looked back to Madeleine and smiled, then gestured that she should go ahead.

  She slipped off her stool, picked up her handbag (she’d never get used to saying ‘purse’ as they called it in the States) and the half-finished glass of club soda, then smiled at the maître d’ as he led them to their table. Hugo gently pressed his hand against the small of her back as she passed him. It was such a simple, innocent gesture—he was only being a gentleman—but Madeleine’s emotions were wreaking havoc with her body. A tingling shot up her spine from where he’d touched her and quickly spread all over.

  They arrived at their table, a lovely private spot with views overlooking Inner Harbor, which shone and sparkled with the lights of boats and buildings on the other side of the Patapsco River. It still took her breath away every time she looked at it. The maître d’ pulled back Madeleine’s chair and once she’d sat, he shook open a napkin and laid it across her lap.

  ‘Your waiter for the evening will be Hans and he’ll be here with the menus in a moment, but can I get you something to drink to start with?’ he asked, smiling first at Madeleine and then at Hugo.

  ‘Shall we order a bottle of wine?’ Hugo asked, opening the drinks menu.

  Madeleine shook her head and tapped the side of her glass. ‘I’m sticking to soda.’

  ‘Right, I forgot.’ He closed the menu. ‘Maybe I’ll wait and see what Celia wants.’

  Madeleine looked up at the maître d’. ‘Can I get a refill, please?’

  ‘Of course.’ The maître d’ bowed his head and then took the drinks menu from Hugo. ‘Hans will be with you in a moment.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Hugo and Madeleine said at the same time as he turned to walk away.

  ‘So what happened?’ Hugo asked, leaning back in his seat.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to talk about it.’ Madeleine sulked.

  ‘Okay, whatever you want.’ He nodded. ‘You’ll never guess who I ran into at the hospital this afternoon?’

  But of course Madeleine could no more keep her disastrous meeting with Ross to herself, any more than she could her initial plan to have a baby. ‘Oh, Hugo, he was awful,’ she confessed, taking a sip of her soda and pretending it was champagne.

  And then her sorry story spilled from her lips.

  ‘Maybe the next guy will be better?’ Hugo offered encouragingly once Madeleine had finished.

  ‘Maybe.’ She frowned. ‘But he was top of my list. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get to Potential Donor Number Two.’

  ‘Hey folks, sorry I’m late. What have I missed?’ Celia landed beside them, her face radiant and her jet-black hair immaculately straight and hanging down her back. Heads throughout the restaurant turned to look at her as she unwrapped herself from her winter coat. Madeleine felt certain she never looked so amazing when she’d just emerged from a stressful surgical situation. It would be easy to hate Celia if she wasn’t so damn nice.

  Hugo leapt up, took her pale pink coat and then kissed her on the cheek and Madeleine felt a stab in her heart. Usually she managed to ignore her feelings for Hugo, but today, in her highly charged, extra-emotional state, it was an effort.

  Hugo held out Celia’s seat but before she sat she leaned across and air-kissed Madeleine’s cheek. ‘How are you, darling? Feels like forever since we caught up, although Hugo’s kept me up-to-date.’ She raised her eyebrows as she lowered herself into her chair. ‘I must say I’m surprised but intrigued by your venture. How was your meeting tonight?’

  Madeleine rolled her eyes and was halfway through rehashing the story when their waiter arrived.

  ‘Good evening.’ He grinned as he placed a gold embossed menu down in front of each of them. ‘I’m Hans and I will be serving you this evening. Would you like me to run through the chef’s specials?’

  The three of them looked up and nodded, although Madeleine was in no mood for eating anything. Celia ordered the lobster bisque and Hugo the pan-roasted dorade. They both requested the suggested wine accompaniments and then Hans looked to Madeleine for her decision.

  She scanned the menu once again. ‘I’ll have the baby spinach and frisée salad, please. No wine.’

  Celia tsked. ‘You’ll have to eat more than that if you get pregnant.’ She’d always been one of those women who could eat heartily and still imitate a beanpole. There was literally nothing not perfect about her.

  ‘I’ll worry about that when I’m actually pregnant,’ Madeleine replied, perhaps a little too tersely. ‘But I have a major hurdle to get over first.’

  ‘Hmm?’ Celia sighed and flicked her hair over her shoulders. ‘I’m still struggling with why you would actually want to do this. Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?’

  ‘Celia,’ Hugo warned, reaching over and placing a hand on his long-time girlfriend’s knee. ‘This is Madeleine’s decision.’

  She gave him a look. ‘I know and part of me thinks it’s great—if she wants to have a baby, then why should she wait around for Mr Right? But—’ she looked back to Madeleine ‘—I never saw you as the motherly type. What brought this on?’

  Madeleine swallowed, inwardly thinking about the Patterson curse. Although she didn’t believe there was any truth in such things, finding out about the curse had affected her more than she was willing to admit and she very much wanted to prove it rubbish.

  Of course she couldn’t tell her friends this—they were liable to laugh in her face, think she was joking and then, when they realised she was serious, start questioning her sanity. Besides, it wasn’t just the curse. It went much deeper than that—to a yearning she’d been trying to ignore for years.

  ‘My sister Lucinda and her husband are trying for a baby. Being back home, talking with her and also seeing the children of some of my old schoolfriends, made me realise I’m not getting any younger. I never consciously decided not to have children, but work always came first and I guess I always imagined that when I met Mr Right, I’d think about a family then. But I’m thirty-five years old and Mr Right is nowhere in sight.’

  ‘So do you think you might go the anonymous donor route instead now?’ Hugo asked.

  She sighed. Initially the sperm bank option had seemed too cold, clinical and calculated, but if Ross Clark was an indication of the options on the known donor site, maybe an anonymous
donor would be the best idea. At least then she wouldn’t know if her baby’s father was a lunatic. But that thought didn’t sit well either.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Madeleine ran her fingers through her hair in frustration as the waiter arrived with Hugo and Celia’s drinks. She eyed them jealously. ‘Let’s talk about something else. Why were you delayed in surgery?’

  Celia puffed out air between her lips. ‘You’d think a tonsillectomy would be simple, right?’ She launched into a description about her hellish afternoon in which her five-year-old patient had suffered an extreme reaction to the anaesthesia.

  ‘Oh shit.’

  Hugo and Madeleine offered their sympathies, having both experienced equally traumatic situations. They exchanged stories of operations gone wrong, both fascinated and horrified by the memories in a way that only other doctors could understand. When their meals arrived, talk continued in this vein, for which Madeleine was thankful. Although finding a donor had been her focus the last two weeks, she didn’t want to lament on her disappointment all evening.

  She thought her friends had all but forgotten her donor woes when Celia interrupted Hugo in the middle of a graphic description of one of his patients who’d haemorrhaged badly during a VBAC.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ she shrieked, as if she’d suddenly had a premonition of the winning lottery numbers.

  ‘What?’ Madeleine and Hugo asked at the same time.

  Celia grinned, her eyes lighting up her whole face. She pointed between herself and Hugo. ‘We’re not planning on having children. Golly, I could never do that whole pregnancy and birth thing and I’d go insane if I had to take more than a week off work, but I must admit it’d be a pity to waste these good genes.’ She leaned over and pinched Hugo’s cheeks like he was a chubby little baby. He didn’t look impressed. ‘Hugo can be your sperm donor!’

  Hugo dropped his fork and knocked over his wine glass. His mouth fell open.

  Madeleine froze, shock paralysing her at Celia’s candid suggestion.