Found: A Father For Her Child

by Amy Andrews

  ‘And to be perfectly honest, I was mess. I was so upset about that poor little boy and stressed out by the enormity of it all, it played havoc with my body. I lost weight, I couldn’t sleep and when I did I had nightmares.’

  Charlie could tell by the haunted look in her eyes that she’d been through the mill. ‘I hope you received counselling.’

  ‘Yes, and it helped but then I discovered I was pregnant. And Rupert, Dana’s father, who hadn’t been very supportive during the whole process at all, dropped me like a hot cake.’

  Charlie shook his head in amazement. ‘Nice.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, just what I needed. And as D-day approached the more panicky I became. I didn’t want to be struck off or have any further disciplinary action taken against me, but the thought of going back to clinical practice scared me more. I felt like I was in limbo.’

  Charlie nodded. That was a very apt description. Limbo. Waiting for the elevator ride up or down.

  ‘So when my letter arrived I couldn’t bring myself to open it, either. I mean, I’d put my whole life on hold waiting for the damn thing but when it arrived I was too scared to open it.’

  ‘But you did, right?’

  Carrie shook her head. ‘After looking at it for five hours, I got into my car and drove ’ round to my sister’s shop and got her to open it.’

  Charlie stared at her, trying to fathom how truthful she was being. She looked embarrassed, sitting there chewing her lip, and he laughed out loud. ‘You really did, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yep.’ She nodded. ‘I really did.’

  ‘And it was good news?’

  ‘They agreed with the hospital review and my suspension was lifted immediately. But by then I knew I couldn’t ever go back. Even now, I still see his face, have nightmares about the blood. Not as much as in the beginning, but it’s still affecting me.’

  Which was a travesty. The glimpses he’d seen of her clinical side screamed of her competence. Even that night on the road, her professional instincts had shown through despite the demons she’d battled in her head. The way she’d applied pressure to the pumping artery had been one hundred per cent professional.

  They both stared into their coffee, lost in their own thoughts for a minute.

  Charlie came to a decision. ‘You open it for me.’ He picked up the envelope and held it out to her.

  Carrie looked at him and the envelope then back at him. The denial that rose inside her died on her lips. He was serious. His grey gaze was steady, unflinching.

  ‘Come on.’ He grinned. ‘Pretend you’re my sister.’

  If only. At least this insane attraction she felt for him wouldn’t be an issue. Her hand shook slightly as she accepted the envelope. Carrie removed the letter-opener from her laptop bag and slit the envelope open. She pulled the path form out and scanned it briefly.

  ‘Negative.’ She smiled, turning it around to show him.

  Charlie didn’t do anything for a few seconds as the news sank in. Negative. Negative. Negative. It echoed around his brain. ‘Negative.’ He smiled back at Carrie.

  She nodded and then laughed as the smile on his face grew broader.

  Charlie leapt to his feet and let out a loud whoop. ‘Negative,’ he shouted, and thumped the table. He strode over to his locker and wrenched the door open. ‘Here, catch,’ he said, lobbing a bottle of pills in her direction.

  Carrie laughed as she caught the medication. She joined him at the rubbish bin near the sink. Charlie pushed down on the pedal, the lid opened and he emptied the contents of his containers into the bin. Carrie followed suit, watching the pills flow out like a waterfall. She threw the empty bottle in after them.

  ‘Negative,’ Charlie repeated. He looked down into her sparkling eyes and felt a swell of desire surge in his chest. She was smiling, her lips glistening with the gloss she wore. Her chest rose and fell, the soft navy blouse she was wearing beneath her jacket straining at the cleavage. He wanted to touch it to see what it was made out of. Hell, he just wanted to touch her.

  He picked her up and swung her round and round, ending up in the centre of the room.

  ‘Put me down, Charlie,’ Carrie protested, laughing hard and hanging on tight to his arms. She could feel the solid muscle beneath her hands and suppressed the urge to run her hand up under his sleeve.

  Charlie placed her back on the floor, laughing. ‘Thank you.’ His heart was hammering and he was slightly breathless from his spontaneous act.

  ‘My pleasure,’ Carrie replied, and then wished she had chosen her words more carefully as she watched his gaze grow hot like molten metal and his pupils dilate.

  ‘No, the pleasure was all mine.’ Charlie noticed a flare of flame heat her whiskey eyes and her soft lips part. His gaze settled on her lips. They were full and moist and inviting and he wanted to kiss her. Very, very much. He remembered how responsive she’d been that night at her place and needed to feel her against him again.

  ‘Carrie,’ he whispered.

  She felt caught in a bubble. The world faded away and there was just the two of them. Her mouth, her lips suddenly felt as dry as the Sahara and she moistened them, her tongue flicking out to wet them.

  Charlie followed the darting movement and groaned. It was all the encouragement he needed. He dropped his head and claimed her mouth. It tasted like honey and he was instantly addicted. He deepened the kiss and a shot of adrenaline buzzed through his system as his tongue stroked across her bottom lip. He wanted more. He wanted to push her back against the table and feel her legs wrap around his waist. His hand trembled as it slid beneath her jacket and smoothed the soft silk of her blouse where her waist curved into her hip.

  Carrie was drowning. Suffocating. Dying. This was madness. Pure madness. They had to stop. They were at work. But his mouth felt so good and his hand was hot where it touched her and she wanted him to move it higher. To feel the heat against her breasts. Her nipples hardened instantly.

  No! No! No! This was insane. Carrie wrenched her mouth away with difficulty, her chest heaving, her pulse points bounding. The look of naked desire in his gaze, the unsteadiness of his breath called to her and she took a step back out of temptation’s reach.

  ‘Carrie.’ He took a step towards her.

  His voice was husky and she felt a surge of heat between her legs. ‘No.’ She shook her head and held out her hand to ward him off.

  The door opened and they both started. ‘So, are the results in yet?’ Joe asked, bustling into the room. ‘Oh, hi, Carrie.’ Joe walked between them, oblivious to the tension. ‘It’s OK, we can talk later,’ he said, flicking on the kettle.

  Charlie ran a hand through his hair, his gaze not leaving Carrie’s face. ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘Carrie knows.’

  Joe leant against the sink. ‘Oh, right. So?’

  Charlie broke eye contact with Carrie and looked at Joe. ‘Negative.’

  ‘Aha! That’s great.’ Joe surged forward and wrapped his friend in a big bear hug. He slapped him on the back. ‘Woohoo! After a year of abstinence it’s going to be a hot time in the old town tonight, my friend.’

  Charlie looked back towards Carrie, who was now busying herself with her things.

  ‘We’re still on for The Mill tonight?’

  Charlie wasn’t really listening to his friend. He was too busy watching Carrie withdraw into her shell. The woman who had just kissed him into oblivion hiding behind her papers and pinstripes.

  ‘Charlie!’

  ‘Hmm, what? Oh…yes,’ he said distractedly.

  Carrie ground her teeth as she powered up her laptop and then castigated herself for her reaction. Why wouldn’t he be out there again? A year was a long time for a virile male to go without, wasn’t it? She thought about her own nearly five-year record and felt suddenly depressed. It hadn’t seemed to matter until now.

  ‘Charlie.’ Angela bustled into the room. ‘Your first patient’s here.’

  ‘Right,’ he said, still staring at Carrie. He willed her to loo
k at him but she tapped away on her keyboard instead. ‘See you later, Carrie,’ he said.

  ‘Uh-uh,’ Carrie replied, staring resolutely at the screen.

  Carrie dragged herself into work the next morning after a sleepless night. Every time she’d shut her eyes the kiss had replayed in her head and heat had surged through her body, making sleep impossible. And then she’d got angry with herself. She’d bet Charlie wasn’t lying awake, tortured by images of their kiss. He was, no doubt, making out with some babe he’d picked up, their intimate moment completely forgotten in his rush to get laid.

  But it became apparent quite quickly that Charlie was as grumpy, if not grumpier, than her. Carrie raised an eyebrow at Joe as Charlie snapped at him over something trivial and stormed back to his office.

  ‘I take it no one fancied him last night?’ The idea seemed ludicrous to her but he certainly wasn’t acting like a man who’d spent a night divesting himself of a year’s worth of sexual frustration.

  ‘Are you kidding? They were swarming. He just wasn’t interested. If I were him, I would have been champing at the bit to clean out…’ Joe stopped in mid-sentence, realising it was hardly an appropriate thing to say in front of a lady. ‘Er…sorry, well, you get my gist.’

  Carrie laughed. ‘Yes, Joe. I get your gist.’

  ‘I think celibacy has fried some of his brain cells.’

  Carrie felt stupidly smug and surprisingly happy that Charlie hadn’t cheapened their kiss by going out and finding himself a convenient warm body the very same day. Not that the kiss had meant anything, of course. It had just been a crazy spur-of-the-moment celebratory thing. Pure reaction to good news. A release of pent-up emotions. She knew that. But still…maybe it had meant more to him?

  By lunchtime the next day, however, Carrie was wishing Charlie had got laid. They all were. His mood seemed to get worse as each minute passed. Angela and Joe were ready to have him committed. Joe had decided not to even come to the clinic and play basketball at lunchtime and Angela, who usually ate in the staffroom, decided that anywhere but the centre would be a good place to eat her lunch.

  Carrie was working through lunch as usual, munching on a sandwich at the front desk while she performed a data search on Angela’s computer. Two girls came rushing in the front door.

  ‘Help.’

  Carrie looked up over the bench. One of the girls was heavily pregnant and clutching at her stomach. She didn’t look any older than sixteen and was panting furiously.

  ‘Charlie,’ Carrie called, raising her voice as she rushed to the girl’s aid. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘She’s having the baby.’

  Charlie strode out of his office. ‘Treatment room,’ he urged.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Carrie asked as she ushered the girls into the room.

  ‘Donna,’ the pregnant one panted, sobbing and panting at the same time.

  ‘How pregnant are you?’ Carrie asked, helping her up onto the high bed.

  The girl cried out as another contraction swept through her and clutched at Carrie’s shoulder.

  ‘We don’t know,’ her friend said. ‘She’s never seen a doctor.’

  Charlie saw the look of surprise on Carrie’s face. It was common enough around these parts. The labouring girl looked like a street kid if her general unkempt appearance was anything to go by. Street kids rarely sought any antenatal care.

  ‘How long have the pains been coming for?’ Carrie kept going, her mind sorting methodically through the required information.

  ‘They started about half an hour ago and they’ve just been getting worse.’

  ‘Have her membranes ruptured?’ Carrie asked.

  Both girls looked at her blankly.

  ‘Have your waters broken?’ Charlie intervened.

  Unless you worked in this area, it was hard to remember that medical terms weren’t well understood in this neck of the woods. He’d been pleasantly surprised, though, at how Carrie had taken control. He could see her brain working behind her eyes. The brain of a doctor.

  ‘No,’ Donna replied.

  ‘I’ll call an ambulance,’ Charlie said.

  He was back in two minutes and Carrie felt the tension in her shoulders ease a little. She’d delivered babies before, but never out of the comfort zone of a hospital.

  ‘Here,’ Charlie said, pulling a pre-packaged birthing kit out of a cupboard. ‘I’ll open this. Why don’t you do an examination?’

  Carrie glanced at him. Her? He handed her some gloves and nodded and smiled at her. Her. She swallowed. She could do this. She’d done it before. Charlie certainly had faith in her.

  The gloves took for ever to get on over her shaking hands. She could hear Charlie talking soothingly to Donna in the background. Carrie lifted Donna’s dress and knew instantly she wouldn’t need to do a vaginal examination.

  ‘How far away is the ambulance?’ she asked.

  ‘Ten,’ he said.

  ‘We don’t have ten minutes—the head’s right there. It’s crowned.’

  Charlie could see the panic in her gaze that she was trying hard to quell. ‘All righty, then,’ he said calmly. ‘Looks like we’re going to deliver a baby.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Carrie, babies that come this fast don’t usually need anything from us. All you need to do is catch.’

  Carrie stared into his calm grey gaze. He looked in control. Confident. She nodded.

  Catch.

  ‘OK, Donna, next contraction, big push,’ Charlie said from his position at the head of the bed. ‘Your baby’s nearly out.’

  They had only seconds to wait before Donna started moaning again.

  ‘That’s it, Donna, big push, good job,’ Carrie encouraged as the girl shut her eyes and bellowed as she bore down, clenching her fists.

  ‘Head’s out,’ Carrie called, caught up in the excitement and expectation of new life. ‘One more push with the next contraction and it’ll be all over.’

  Donna pushed with all her might and the rest of the baby slipped out into Carrie’s waiting hands. ‘It’s a girl,’ she announced, grinning madly at Charlie as he handed her a sterile green towel to wrap around the already vigorously squawking, pink newborn.

  Donna was crying and so was her friend. Even Carrie felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. The start of new life never ceased to awe her. She passed the baby to her mother. ‘She’s beautiful,’ Carrie said.

  ‘Well done, Carrie,’ Charlie said, grinning at her as he came down to join her at the business end, handing her some cord clamps.

  He watched Donna with her newborn, extraordinarily moved by the instinctive bonding that was taking place on front of him. The new mother’s eyes were shut and she was rubbing her cheek against her little girl’s forehead. The baby’s tiny perfect hand was touching Donna’s face. How must it feel to hold your baby for the first time?

  Donna may have had no antenatal education or read a hundred books on becoming a mother, but she was forming an immediate attachment with her baby. He heard a noise behind him.

  ‘Ambulance is here.’

  Carrie turned and noticed the two officers standing in the doorway while she was still basking in Charlie’s praise. At least the frown he’d been wearing for the last two days had lifted. He was the Charlie from Wednesday, from the day he’d kissed her. His eyes glowed with warmth and happiness.

  A joint decision was made to deliver the placenta and then transfer Donna to hospital. ‘You can do it,’ Charlie said.

  Carrie nodded, feeling a confidence she hadn’t felt in a long time. The placenta was delivered ten minutes later and Charlie held out a plastic bag for Carrie to place it in. It had to go to the hospital with Donna so it could be checked thoroughly in case it hadn’t been completely expelled.

  Carrie was very conscious of Charlie as they stood side by side, watching the ambulance depart. His arm brushed against hers occasionally and it felt warm. It reminded her of the heat from his hand the other day and she felt her stomac
h clench involuntarily.

  ‘What happened?’ Angela asked, returning to the clinic in time to see the ambulance pull away from the kerb.

  ‘We just delivered a baby.’ Charlie smiled.

  Angela looked at him incredulously and then threw back her head and laughed. ‘If I’d have known a baby was going to put a smile back on your face again, Charlie Wentworth, I would have put you in a taxi and sent you to the nearest labour ward.’

  Angela continued to chuckle as she brushed past them.

  ‘What the hell did she mean by that?’ he grumbled, staring after his receptionist.

  Carrie pressed her lips together hard to stop herself from laughing. ‘Wouldn’t know.’ She shrugged and also left his side.

  Charlie watched Carrie’s pinstriped rear disappear down the hallway. He watched Angela busying herself at the desk.

  Women!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHARLIE pulled up outside Carrie’s house and switched off his engine. The smell of Chinese takeaway permeated the car and he hesitated with his hand on the door. Damn it all! This didn’t have to be a big deal. He was just having a meal with a colleague.

  And her very cute daughter.

  In her apartment.

  Where he had intimate knowledge of her bedroom.

  No. It was just a thank you. For today and the other day when she’d opened the envelope and because he knew he’d been unbearable the last couple of days. And it was this or let Joe drag him out to another seedy bar with women who didn’t do anything for him. Any more.

  He pushed open the car door determinedly, grabbed the plastic bag and the bottle of wine and headed towards the building. He soon arrived at her apartment and rapped on the door before he changed his mind. He only hoped they hadn’t already eaten. He checked his watch. Six o’clock. Carrie opened the door.

  ‘Oh.’ Carrie blinked. Charlie was standing at her door. For an awful second she wondered if her over-active imagination had conjured him up. ‘Charlie?’