The Midwife's Miracle Baby

by Amy Andrews

‘It is, Claire. It is.’

  She shut her eyes and let herself believe it for a moment, but deep down she knew. If the blood test revealed that she had the gene, love just wasn’t going to cut it. She’d push him so far away, drive him if necessary, that he’d never be able to get back. Never want to. She wouldn’t have the man she loved sacrifice his life for her, like her father had done for her mother. She loved Campbell too much to put him through that ordeal.

  But those were issues they’d be tackling soon enough. This weekend was about distraction. What would be on Monday would be.

  Claire kissed him and it was enough for now. More than enough. She felt the reaction shudder through his body and pressed herself closer to him. She needed to be closer to him than she’d ever been.

  They tore at each other’s clothes, rushing, stumbling, fumbling towards the bed. Finally naked, they fell onto the bed and into each other. Claire was impatient for his touch and felt tears spill from her eyes as he buried himself in her and cried out her name. Yes. This was where he belonged. Where she belonged.

  Claire wanted to freeze this moment in time and stay like this for eternity … part of each other. Connected. Not just physically but spiritually. Bodies and souls joined.

  But the rhythm began to take over, pounding through her head and throbbing in her veins. The primal tempo of physical bonding that could not be denied, like an itch you just had to scratch. Claire revelled in it, welcomed each thrust, urged him deeper until she wasn’t sure where her cries ended and his began.

  * * *

  Claire slept peacefully for the first night in weeks. The usual elusive fragments of dreams about babies and test results, which haunted her, waking her in a cold sweat, were blissfully absent. If only for that, the night was worth it.

  They woke late on Saturday morning. The familiar nausea assailed her the second she opened her eyes. Claire remembered they hadn’t eaten last night as she ran her hand over her stomach and pleaded with the baby to give her a break. It was no use, it was only a matter of time.

  Campbell rolled towards her, snuggling into her side. ‘Hmm,’ he murmured, nuzzling her ear.

  ‘Ugh!’ she muttered, dashing from the bed into the en suite, retching into the toilet.

  ‘Oh, Claire!’ Campbell squatted beside her and rubbed her back. ‘Are you all right? What can I do?’

  ‘Strong, black tea. Two sugars,’ she croaked. Dry toast—’ She broke off as another wave of nausea caused her to retch again.

  Claire stayed clinging to the toilet for a few minutes until she was sure the nausea had passed. She emptied her bladder, brushed her teeth and walked weakly back to bed.

  Campbell arrived with a tray as she was pulling the sheet over herself. He passed her the steaming mug of tea and she sipped it gratefully between mouthfuls of toast. After she’d eaten the breakfast, Campbell took the tray and she lay back down on her side beneath the sheet.

  He joined her in bed, curling around her, spoon-fashion. They lay in silence for a while.

  ‘Claire?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘About Monday.’

  ‘No. No plans. We’ll get the result then we’ll go from there.’ Claire didn’t want to argue this weekend and she certainly didn’t want to be reminded about Monday.

  A phone ringing cut off any potential conversation, and Claire realised it was her mobile. She dug around in her handbag for it.

  ‘Hello?’ Claire lay back against Campbell, his lips nuzzled her neck.

  ‘Claire?’

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘This is Robyn. Robyn Laidley.’

  Claire’s heart skipped a beat. She lifted herself up on her elbow, displacing Campbell.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked ominously.

  ‘Nothing, nothing. Honestly. It’s just that … well, I came into the office today to catch up on some paperwork and your results are here.’

  ‘Oh?’ Claire was sure her heart had now actually stopped.

  ‘I know I don’t usually ring but … it’s twenty-two, Claire. Twenty-two.’

  ‘Twenty-two,’ Claire repeated.

  ‘Twenty-two CAG repeats. You don’t have the gene, Claire.’

  ‘Twenty-two,’ she repeated again.

  ‘Yes, you don’t have the gene!’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So … the baby?’

  ‘Doesn’t either.’

  Claire felt tears course down her cheeks. She was free. She didn’t have Huntington’s. Her baby didn’t either. She was really free. Robyn continued to speak but Claire took none of it in. She was free.

  ‘What’s the matter? Who is it?’ Campbell sat up, concern creasing his brow as Claire dropped the phone in her lap. ‘What about the baby?’ he asked.

  ‘You want to know what my favourite number is, Campbell?’ Claire grinned a silly juvenile grin and her heart sang as she kissed him. ‘Twenty-two. I’m going to get a new number plate for my car with twenty-two on it.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Twenty-two?’ he said, wiping the tears flowing thick and fast down her face.

  ‘That was Robyn. Twenty-two.’

  Claire watched as realisation dawned on his face.

  ‘CAG repeats? Are we talking about CAG repeats?’

  ‘I don’t have it, Campbell,’ she said. ‘I don’t have Huntington’s.’

  She threw herself into his arms, feeling lighter and giddier and younger than she had in years. She wanted to dash out into the street and yell it to the world.

  ‘So the baby …’ he said, pushing her away slightly by the hips.

  ‘Our beautiful baby doesn’t have it either. Oh, Campbell, isn’t it wonderful?’

  ‘It’s the best news ever,’ he agreed, kissing her again. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,’ he said, dropping kisses all over her face.

  ‘You couldn’t possibly love me as much as I love you,’ she said between kisses.

  He stilled and cradled her face in his hands, suddenly serious.

  ‘You … you do?’

  ‘Of course, you silly man. I think I’ve always loved you. I just didn’t realise it and then when I did realise I couldn’t tell you … not till I knew the result anyway. I would never have admitted it if I’d been positive. I love you too much to burden you with an invalid.’

  ‘When will you get it through your head,’ he growled and kissed her nose, ‘that I don’t care about that? I’ve never cared about it. When you love someone, it’s in sickness and in health.’

  ‘I know that, but I still would never have allowed it.’

  ‘I would have worn you down. You’d have been so sick of the sight of me you’d have given in just to shut me up.’

  She laughed and they hugged and kissed again, passion escalating from their joy.

  ‘No. Stop,’ said Campbell, extricating himself and leaping out of bed. He started to dress.

  ‘Why?’ She pouted at him.

  ‘We’re going to go and buy you the biggest, most expensive ring we can find. We’re getting married. As soon as possible. No arguments.’

  ‘As if I could argue with you, you obstinate man.’ Claire laughed and rose from the bed, going straight into his arms.

  ‘I love you, Claire West.’

  ‘I love you, Campbell Deane.’

  ‘Let’s get hitched.’

  * * *

  And they did.

  EPILOGUE

  CLAIRE and Campbell stared down at their sleeping newborn daughter. Baby Mary was blissfully unaware of their rapt attention.

  ‘I wish Mum could have seen her,’ she whispered. Mary had died three months before.

  ‘She knows,’ he said, pulling her close.

  They stood and stared at their daughter, lost in their own thoughts.

  ‘I can’t imagine life without her. Can you?’ asked Campbell.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ said Claire, stroking Mary’s cheek.

  ‘Just think, if I hadn’t been so persistent,
so—’

  ‘Obstinate. Stubborn. Infuriating. Single-minded,’ Claire interrupted, a smile on her face.

  ‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘All those things. Mary wouldn’t be here today.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ Claire snorted. ‘She’d be here all right—just a bit later, that’s all. I know you well enough to know you’d have never given up.’

  A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

  ‘I’ll go,’ he whispered, and kissed Claire’s cheek. He signed for a rectangular package addressed to Claire.

  ‘It’s for you,’ he said, as she joined him.

  Claire knew what it was just from the shape, and eagerly tore open the cardboard to reveal her brand-new personalised number plates.

  The word TWENTY-TWO gleamed up at her in shiny red letters. Claire laughed and showed Campbell. He grinned at her.

  ‘C’mon, baby,’ he said, ‘let’s go put them on.’

  * * * * *

  ISBN-13: 9781460377857

  THE MIDWIFE’S MIRACLE BABY

  Copyright © 2015 by Amy Andrews

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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