Her Four-Year Baby Secret

by Alison Roberts

  It was more to do with a sudden conviction that something irrevocable had already happened.

  In what seemed almost like a very personal Scandinavian flick, her life had just taken a very unexpected and alarmingly sharp turn.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘I GUESS it’s one way of getting a feel for the place.’

  ‘You could say that.’ Nick smiled somewhat wearily at the man he’d been working alongside for the last three hours. Then he nodded at the bottle of tablets a nurse held out as she walked past.

  ‘Thanks, Megan. Tell Jeff to take one three times a day until they’re finished. He’s to come back if he’s feeling unwell or notices any changes to his hand, like sensation dropping or pain increasing. We’ll want to reassess him in a couple of days as well, so he’ll need an outpatient appointment. Oh, and could you find him a salbutamol inhaler, please? Seems he’s lost his.’

  Hugh Patterson eyed the bottle of tablets. ‘Antibiotics? Which one was Jeff?’

  ‘Local guy. Freelance journalist. Got his middle finger ripped off and index finger broken.’

  ‘You don’t want to admit him?’

  ‘I tried to but he won’t stay. Says he just wants to get home. He’s pretty shocked. I couldn’t come up with a good enough reason to keep him. The wound’s sorted and the fracture’s set. Nothing we can do about the missing finger and there’s no evidence of neurological damage to the rest of his hand.’

  ‘That’s lucky.’

  ‘He doesn’t think so. Seems to think his career is over. I hope the girlfriend who’s coming to get him is supportive. He needs a bit of TLC.’

  ‘Speaking of which…’ Hugh smiled ‘…it’s high time we actually sat down for a cup of coffee. Come with me and I’ll show you our staffroom. I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted.’

  ‘It’s certainly been full on. Not unlike a triage station in some of the war zones I’ve been in.’

  ‘And hardly what you expected to find here.’ Hugh was leading the way to the staffroom. ‘Thanks for your help, mate. Lucky for us you decided to arrive and check out the place before you started work. We’d never have coped without you today.’

  Nick negated the statement with a shake of his head, barely registering the staff noticeboard they were passing. There were baby photographs that stood out, though, and an advertisement for a pair of skis someone wanted to sell. ‘I’ve been more than impressed with your set-up here, Hugh. Who’s that nurse manager of yours?’

  ‘Lizzie,’ Hugh said proudly. ‘She’s great, isn’t she?’

  ‘So’s that radiographer you called in. Steve? He’s done a brilliant job.’

  ‘Still doing it, in fact. He’s got one of our last patients in with him now. Girl with red hair and a possible wrist fracture.’

  ‘Melanie. Yes, I saw her a while back.’

  The staffroom bench was cluttered with mugs nobody had found time to wash yet. The central table was just as cluttered, with paperwork being sorted by Shane and Fiona, who gave Hugh an apologetic smile.

  ‘Sorry, Hugh. We were going to take all this back to the station but we would have had trouble finding enough space for this lot. Plus, we keep having to find the patients or their relatives to try and get more of their details.’

  ‘Hey, no problem.’ Hugh opened a cupboard to search for clean mugs. ‘You’ve had at least two months’ worth of trauma in one afternoon. I’ll have to face the nightmare of my own paperwork shortly and it’ll be a hell of lot easier if I have yours to work from. Want coffee?’

  ‘Sure. Thanks.’ Fiona’s gaze shifted. ‘Thanks again for your help up on the hill, Nick. Not the afternoon’s entertainment you expected, was it?’

  ‘Not exactly, no.’

  Something in his tone made Hugh pause in his task of spooning coffee into mugs and give Nick a curious glance.

  ‘You’ve obviously met Fi, then,’ he said. ‘You been introduced to Shane as well?’

  ‘Not properly.’ Nick held his hand out to the young paramedic. ‘I’m Nick,’ he said as they shook hands. ‘Nick Stewart.’

  ‘Stewart?’ Shane frowned. ‘Why does that name ring a bell?’

  ‘It was my married name,’ Fiona reminded him.

  ‘Oh, that’s right.’ Shane raised his eyebrows at Nick. ‘So you’re related to Fi?’

  ‘Good grief, that never occurred to me.’ The jar of sugar Hugh was holding remained unopened. ‘Are you?’

  For a moment, Nick said nothing, caught once again by Fiona’s gaze.

  She wasn’t a Stewart any more?

  Had she remarried?

  ‘Brother-in-law,’ he said slowly. How much did these people know about Fi? How much did she want them to know? She wasn’t looking perturbed. Nick even caught the ghost of an encouraging nod. ‘At least, I used to be.’

  ‘Wow!’ Shane’s head swivelled towards his colleague. ‘Did you know Nick was coming to visit?’

  He couldn’t read her expression as Fiona shook her head. A mix of denial and disbelief certainly, but there was something else there as well.

  ‘It was the last thing I expected,’ she said.

  And the last thing she wanted, perhaps?

  ‘Didn’t think so.’ Shane nodded. ‘Weird, huh? You mention Al’s brother for the first time only this afternoon and then—poof!—he appears.’ He grinned. ‘Spooky!’

  ‘Maybe I have psychic powers,’ Fiona said lightly.

  Again, Nick said nothing. She had been talking about him to his partner? She remembered him?

  ‘Boy.’ Shane was grinning at Nick. ‘Sam’s going to be thrilled to meet you.’

  ‘Sam?’ Nick’s lips froze halfway into a smile. Any pleasure in being remembered went out the window. So she had remarried.

  ‘Your nephew,’ Hugh put in helpfully.

  Nick stared at Fiona. There was no mistaking the unease in those widened eyes.

  ‘But I haven’t—’

  ‘Met him?’ Shane’s interruption was intended to be as helpful as Hugh had been. ‘Yeah, I know. Fi said. You’ll love him. Cutest four-year-old I’ve ever known.’

  Hugh was ferrying mugs of coffee to the table. ‘Only because my wee guy isn’t that old yet.’

  Fiona’s grin looked a little forced. ‘You’re as bad as Maggie, Hugh. It’s not a competition for who’s got the cutest son. Luke and Sam are equally gorgeous.’

  Nick was the only person not smiling.

  Fi had a son? It couldn’t be Al’s child and therefore it couldn’t be his own nephew. If she’d been pregnant at the time of Al’s death, the media would have had a field day with the news and he would have known about it because he’d read or seen every moment of the coverage.

  He stared at Fiona. She was a mother? Who was the father of her son? Nick wanted to escape. To find some time alone. He had wanted to get his head around simply seeing Fi again but that task had just become one hell of a lot more complicated.

  Fi was staring back and, oddly, there was accusation in her gaze.

  Anger, even.

  Nick gave his head an imperceptible shake. He was missing something here.

  Something huge.

  Hugh seemed unaware of any undercurrents but, then, his attention was on taking his first sip of coffee. With an appreciative sigh he leaned back against the bench and then gave Nick a thoughtful glance.

  ‘So—did you get my email the other day? About the house?’

  ‘No, sorry. I’ve been on the move. I was going to catch up with mail at my hotel tonight.’ Nick swallowed some of his own coffee. He couldn’t help his gaze sliding back towards Fiona but she had her head bent, a hand on her forehead, shielding her eyes, and she was writing something on a case report form. The impression that she was deliberately avoiding involvement in this conversation was unmistakable but Nick wasn’t offended.

  He knew exactly how she was feeling.

  Fiona needed space to get her head around things as much as he did.

  ‘You don’t need a hot
el,’ Hugh said dismissively. ‘There’s doctors’ quarters right here at the hospital.’

  ‘The hotel’s fine.’ Nick wasn’t going on the payroll until next week and he wouldn’t be happy accepting staff privileges before then. ‘I was planning to be a tourist for a few days. I’ve never been to Queenstown. Never even been to New Zealand before.’

  Fiona was scribbling rapidly, apparently absorbed by writing a patient history, but Shane’s paperwork had been forgotten.

  ‘You’ll love it,’ he told Nick. ‘You’re probably into adventure sports. You can go skiing, white-water rafting, bungee-jumping—’

  ‘Whoa!’ Nick shook his head. ‘I came here for the clean, green space, not an adrenaline rush.’

  Shane looked disappointed but then he rallied. ‘I guess you’ve had your fair share of excitement. Fi said you were with…what was it?’

  ‘Médecins Sans Frontières,’ Fiona supplied quietly, without looking up.

  So she wasn’t that absorbed with her paperwork after all. Nick knew he probably had a puzzled frown on his face as he stared at the top of her head. Maybe she sensed his attention because she glanced up briefly. And there it was again. The accusation. Did she have something against MSF? Was that the problem?

  ‘What’s that when it’s at home?’ Shane queried.

  ‘It means doctors without borders,’ Nick explained. ‘It’s an international humanitarian aid organisation. It’s purpose is to provide emergency medical assistance to people in danger.’

  ‘You’ve done that for a while, haven’t you?’ Hugh said.

  ‘Nearly six years.’ Nick closed his eyes for a second. ‘Long enough.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Hugh’s tone was sympathetic. ‘It must be draining.’

  ‘Where did you go?’ Shane asked.

  ‘Lots of places. Indonesia, Malaysia, Iraq, Ecuador…’ Nick’s voice trailed off. It wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now.

  ‘And you come for some time out to peaceful, rural New Zealand,’ Hugh said gently, ‘and look what we throw at you. My apologies.’

  Nick found a smile. ‘I’m not holding you responsible, Hugh.’

  ‘I’d like to make up for it anyway. Look, if you don’t fancy the doctors’ quarters, come home with me. The place is a bombsite, what with packing for the trip, but Maggie would love to meet you. In fact, I’ll be in trouble if I don’t take you home.’

  ‘I…ah…’ Nick didn’t want to be whisked off to the hospitality of the Patterson household, however warm that was likely to be. What he wanted was a chance to talk to Fiona.

  ‘That way, you can check the place out and see if you think Maggie’s idea might work,’ Hugh continued.

  ‘Maggie’s idea?’ Nick was only half listening.

  Why wasn’t Fiona saying anything? Was she just trying to find some space for a few moments or was she going to avoid spending time with him for the whole of his month-long stay? If so, what was supposed to be the start of a new direction could turn out to be a total disaster.

  ‘That you house-sit for us. Look after the dogs and—’

  Fiona abruptly stopped her scribbling. She stared at Hugh. ‘I thought you were going to get your locum to do that.’

  There was a moment’s silence and the penny finally dropped. Fiona looked from Nick to Hugh and back again.

  ‘You’re the locum?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Another tiny silence. This time the undercurrents were obvious to everyone but Fiona couldn’t summon even a polite smile that could indicate that this was a pleasant surprise. It was stunning. Not only had Nick reappeared in her life like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, he was there to stay.

  At least, that’s how it felt right now. A whole month seemed like for ever.

  Hugh cleared his throat. An uncomfortable sound that advertised the realisation of issues that could potentially undermine the carefully laid plans to cover his absence.

  ‘I’d better get back out to the front line.’ Hugh put his empty mug into the sink. ‘Steve should have finished those X-rays by now.’

  ‘And I’d better start filing this paperwork,’ Fiona said hurriedly. ‘Before it buries us.’

  ‘I can do that.’ Shane responded to a meaningful glance from Hugh as the consultant left the staffroom. He started gathering the forms.

  ‘Leave the top copies for Hugh,’ Fiona instructed. ‘And put the rest on my desk. I might check them over again before I head home in case I’ve missed something.’

  She could have taken the forms away herself but the look Hugh had given Shane hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was trying to leave her alone with Nick and there had been an unspoken plea that a major issue could be avoided in the run-up to him leaving the country for an extended period.

  A plea that was being echoed in the expression on Nick’s face as the others left the room.

  ‘Is it a problem for you, Fi?’ he asked quietly. ‘Me being the locum here?’

  ‘No!’ The word was emphatic. Hugh and Maggie were Fiona’s best friends. She owed it to them to make sure this wasn’t going to be a problem. ‘I’m…I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is the last place I would have expected to see you.’

  ‘Likewise.’

  Fiona’s breath escaped in an incredulous huff. ‘But you knew this was where I grew up. That my parents lived here.’

  ‘Did I?’ Nick looked genuinely perplexed as he moved to sit at the end of the table, just an arm’s length from Fiona. ‘I knew you came from New Zealand but I don’t think I ever made a connection to a particular place, and even if I did, I had no idea you’d come back. When did you come back?’

  ‘The day after Al’s funeral.’ Fiona was watching Nick carefully. Would she see any regret? An apology for not being there?

  Strangely, she got the fleeting impression of something more like relief.

  ‘What time did you leave?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What time of day was it?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’ This was ridiculous. They had such a lot they could, should, be talking about and he wanted to know what time of day she had caught a plane? ‘Why on earth does it matter?’ she heard herself snapping. ‘You weren’t even there.’

  The old resentment bubbled up and now that the adrenaline rush of dealing with a major incident had gone, leaving exhaustion in its wake, it was too much. To her horror, Fiona felt the prickle of tears.

  ‘Why weren’t you there, Nick?’ Her voice caught. ‘I know you and Al had fallen out but couldn’t you at least have come to his funeral?’

  ‘I did.’

  Fiona swallowed painfully. ‘What?’

  ‘I was there, Fi. I almost didn’t make it. It was incredibly difficult to get connecting flights out of Ecuador. I arrived late at Heathrow and by the time I got through the traffic and arrived at the service, I was stuck behind the media contingent. I couldn’t get anywhere near you.’

  ‘You can’t have tried very hard.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’ There was an edge of anger in his voice that startled Fiona. Nick had never been the angry one—that had been Al’s domain. Had he become like his brother in more ways than simply an increase in physical build?

  Hopefully not, but Fiona found she was holding her breath as she waited for his next words. Bracing herself automatically for some kind of personal attack.

  It didn’t happen. Nick’s words carried an undertone of defeat. He sounded as weary as she was feeling.

  ‘Did you have any idea how protective those people around you were?’

  Fiona shook her head slowly. ‘Not really.’

  In retrospect, those days had become a blur. The worst days of her life. She could remember begging for privacy, though. Asking everyone she could to help shield her from the media. And to shield those closest to her although her mother had been the only family member to be by her side.

  ‘Why didn’t you just tell them who you were?’

  ‘And have the spotlight turned
on me? Don’t you remember how much I hated it? I told you, didn’t I? I was always the invisible kid.’ A seemingly pent-up bitterness grew in intensity as he spoke and there was a hard edge that, again, Fiona would never have expected from Nick. He had grown up, hadn’t he?

  ‘The only way anybody ever noticed me was as Alistair’s brother. The shadow.’ The anger was muted now but the aftermath of bitterness spoke volumes. ‘I didn’t want to be the shadow at the last photo shoot he was ever going to have. To get attention because I was the only surviving Stewart. To see what everybody would have been thinking…that the wrong brother had died.’

  ‘Nick!’ Quite unconsciously, along with the horrified intake of her breath, Fiona had reached out and had taken hold of his hand. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  But it had been, hadn’t it? It was how they’d connected in the first place. They had both been like fish out of water in a family that had craved public adulation. Maybe Nick had only ever revealed the tip of the iceberg.

  Had he really felt so unwanted as a child? Had that had something to do with why the brothers had stopped talking to each other? How had Fiona missed how big an issue it had been? She’d been guilty of thinking the same things herself, hadn’t she? That Nick was the shadow. Quiet. Thoughtful. Gentle. All the attributes that Al had missed out on, really.

  All this time Fiona had felt resentful that Nick hadn’t been at the funeral to support her.

  But it had been Nick that had needed that support even more than she had. She hadn’t tried to find him, had she? She’d been upset he hadn’t come. Had convinced herself that she meant nothing to him. That their friendship had never been genuine. As false as the vows Al had made on their wedding day had turned out to be.

  ‘Nick, I’m sorry.’ Fiona squeezed his hand. ‘I wish I’d seen you but I was just trying to get through the ordeal and escape the cameras. I barely looked at anyone.’

  Nick’s smile was crooked. ‘You wouldn’t have recognised me even if you had spotted me. I’d grown a beard. Easier than trying to shave every day in places like Ecuador.’