Gucci Gucci Coo

by Sue Margolis

  Ruby suggested that maybe the midwives would be prepared to blow the whistle.

  “Are you kidding?” Hannah said. “They’re making a great deal of money. Why would they risk losing it? On top of that, they would be struck off the nursing register.”

  “So, who was your obstetrician?” Ruby asked.

  “His name is Hardacre. Tom Hardacre.”

  “You are kidding,” Ruby cried. “He’s involved in this? But he’s a leading authority on natural childbirth. I grant you he comes across as a bit arrogant and pleased with himself, but loads of doctors are like that. There’s no way he could be connected to this.”

  “Well, I assure you he is.”

  “OK, so why haven’t you reported him to his superiors?”

  Hannah started laughing. “Because for all I know, his superiors are involved as well. And even if they’re not, my allegation sounds absurd. Do you really think anybody at St. Luke’s would even listen to me?”

  “You could go to the newspapers.”

  “I could, but then we’re back to square one. As soon as the story became public, the courts would get involved. Any judge would insist on DNA tests to prove Alfie is Claudia’s, but like I said, I can’t risk her taking him—and I also couldn’t bear the thought of him put into care.”

  “So you’re prepared to keep ’im?” Chanel said.

  “I’m prepared to, yes.”

  “Does that mean you don’t really want ’im?” she persisted, but not unkindly.

  Hannah sat considering her response. “I want to want him,” she said finally. “After all, I’m all he’s got. But the truth is, I’m not his biological mother and I haven’t bonded with him, like I did with the twins. I know that makes me sound heartless and wicked, but it’s how I feel.” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “I’m just not coping. My mum’s still staying with me, but even with her help, I’m not up to this.”

  “Hey, come on,” Ruby said. “You’re doing brilliantly and nobody thinks you’re remotely heartless or wicked. We’ll sort something out. Just you see.”

  Chapter 15

  “Look,” Ruby said, rooting through Sam’s kitchen cupboard for the pepper grinder. “I know Hannah’s story sounds like some mad fantasy, but if you met her, you’d see she’s isn’t mad, just exhausted; and I think probably very angry about what’s happened to her.” She found the pepper behind a jar of honey and passed it to Sam.

  “I have no doubt that she comes across as totally credible,” he said holding the grinder over the pan of Bolognese sauce and starting to turn the handle. “But what she’s saying is inconceivable. If you’re asking for my opinion as a doctor, it sounds like she’s suffering from postpartum depression. She needs to see a shrink.” He put the grinder down on the counter and began stirring. “She’s also a very convincing actress—so much so that she’s managed to draw you and Chanel into her crazy world.”

  “But what about the body suit?” Ruby persisted. “I saw Claudia in a body suit and now Hannah’s confirming she wore one.”

  “Taste this,” he said, putting the wooden spoon to her lips. “What do you think?”

  “Very nice,” she said. “A touch more oregano, maybe…but you haven’t answered my question.”

  Sam shrugged. “You said yourself the suit could have been some kind of maternity girdle.”

  “But it clearly wasn’t. Hannah saw it. And my mum said there was this time when they were all messing around after her prenatal class and she refused to show off her bump.”

  “OK, I admit I don’t have all the answers, but believe me there will be a rational explanation.” He then asked—exactly as she had asked—why a hospital like St. Luke’s would risk its reputation by getting involved in some kind of morally suspect surrogacy scam. “St. Luke’s is synonymous with natural childbirth worldwide. Arranging for women to use surrogates purely because of vanity is way beyond hypocrisy. The press would lynch us. Our patients would lynch us. And quite rightly.”

  “Hannah said the people involved are making massive amounts of money.”

  “But if something like this were going on, don’t you think there would have been rumors? Gossip? I’ve been working at St. Luke’s for more than eight months and there’s been nothing. Surely something would have leaked by now.”

  “So you’ve really heard nothing?”

  “Not a whisper.”

  “And this Tom Hardacre, the obstetrician who was on TV, the one Hannah saw when she was pregnant…” As she took a step back, her foot came down on Cat Damon’s tail. He let out a long loud squeal.

  “If she saw him.”

  “OK,” Ruby said reluctantly, bending down to comfort Cat Damon. “If she saw him. So, you reckon he seems like a decent enough chap?”

  “As far as I know. Like I said, he is very highly respected. I admit that some people at the hospital don’t like him because he’s a bit flashy. He’s independently wealthy and he buys and sells property. Not just houses—commercial property. Apparently he’s made millions. The guy owns two Porsches, for crying out loud. Don’t you see? He can’t possibly be involved. He simply doesn’t need the money.”

  “But he is involved. I just know it. Hannah is not a liar or a mad fantasist.”

  Sam started to laugh. “You really have got the bit between your teeth, haven’t you?”

  “Too blinkin’ right I have.”

  “OK, would you like me to do some digging? See what I can find out?”

  “About Hardacre?”

  “About him and this whole surrogacy thing. I’ll ask around discreetly. Who knows—maybe there is something going on and I’m the only one who doesn’t know about it.”

  Ruby’s face lit up. “You’d do that? Even though you think I’m totally bonkers?”

  He put down the wooden spoon he was using to stir the pasta sauce, drew her toward him and kissed her.

  “You know what?” he said as they pulled away.

  “What?”

  “You’re very sexy when you’re bonkers.”

  She swatted his arm playfully. “You just wait. When it turns out I was right all along, you won’t be calling me bonkers.” She kissed him briefly on the lips. “You will be careful, won’t you? We don’t know who’s involved in this, or at what level. The last thing either of us wants is for you to lose your job.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet. All I can say is that I hope to God you’re not right about all this. The consequences for the hospital would be dire.” He opened a cupboard and took out a couple of plates. “For now, though, I think we need to take a break and stop thinking about all this.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “Listen, why don’t we go for a drive after dinner? I still haven’t seen your new office.”

  RUBY HAD NEVER seen Sam’s old office, but apparently this new one on the fifth floor was luxurious by comparison.

  “It has to be three times the size,” Sam said.

  Ruby looked round, taking in the huge window overlooking the park, the light gray carpet, the ultramodern dark mahogany-and-steel desk and black leather swivel armchair. “Umm, very Philippe Starck,” she said, running her hand across the desktop. Spread out over the desk were dozens of photographs of newborns. She began sifting through them.

  “Oh, Sam. These are gorgeous. All from grateful customers, I presume?”

  He nodded. “I thought I’d put them up on the wall.”

  She went over to the picture window and pulled back the vertical blinds. The lights of London were twinkling like a box of spilled jewels. “Wow, look at this view. You can see the very top of Big Ben.”

  Eventually she turned away from the window. It was a moment or two before she noticed the screen. No doubt there. And…stirrups. Memories of her experience with Dr. Double Barrel came flooding back. Beside the screen was a metal stand. On top, there was a box of rubber gloves and a tray of instruments. She felt herself tense. “Omigod, is that a speculum? I’ve never seen one up close.”

&nb
sp; He started laughing. “Ruby, what do you expect? I’m a gynecologist.”

  “Yes, but you know that gynecologists’ consulting rooms make me squeamish.”

  She moved back to the desk. She was looking for something to divert her attention. She noticed a stethoscope lying next to the photographs. She picked it up and draped it around her neck. “What do you think?” she said, adopting a sexy pose. “Do I look the part?”

  “Very professional. You know I could really fall for you in that.”

  He was half sitting, half leaning against the desk. “C’mere,” he said, smiling at her.

  She went. He put his arms around her.

  “I thought you’d already fallen for me,” she said coyly.

  “What I mean is that if I hadn’t already fallen for you, I would have just then.”

  “I see. That’s all right, then.” She was aware that he was running his hand over her bottom.

  “Hey,” he whispered, “you want to play doctors and nurses?”

  She burst out laughing. “I cannot believe you just said that. You’ll have me in suspenders and a white cap next.”

  “Ooh, now there’s a thought.”

  Still laughing, she went to swat his arm, but he caught her wrist in midair and started kissing her. She made a feeble attempt to fight him off, but quickly gave in.

  “Take off your top,” he said, starting to undo the buttons on her blouse.

  “What? No! Don’t be ridiculous.” She clamped her hand over his. “Somebody might come in.”

  “It’s late. Who’s going to come in?”

  “Dah. This is a hospital. Anybody could come in.”

  Somehow he had managed to undo all her shirt buttons. The stethoscope was back on the desk. She let him slip her shirt off her shoulders and start unhooking her bra. A moment later he was flicking one of her nipples with his tongue. “You’re right,” he said at one point. “I should lock the door. Somebody might barge in.” He moved to go.

  She caught his arm. “No, no. Please don’t stop. Forget about the door.”

  “But you just said…” His face became a grin. “Oh, I get it. The danger’s turning you on.”

  She felt herself blush. “Maybe.”

  “OK, but let me turn off this bright light. It’s not exactly romantic.”

  He moved to the panel of switches by the window and flicked one. The room was suddenly bathed in darkness, broken only by the glow and twinkle of the lights of London.

  He came back and slipped his hand under her skirt. Her entire body shuddered in delight as his fingers skimmed over the crotch of her panties. Any second he was going to make her take off her skirt. What was she wearing underneath? She racked her brain to remember what she’d put on that morning. She was behind with her laundry and there had been virtually nothing to choose from in her underwear drawer. She prayed she wasn’t wearing her flesh-colored Bridget knickers or the red thong Chanel had bought her the other Christmas with “Hey, Santa Baby” written across the front. No, it definitely wasn’t the red thong. She would have remembered that.

  SHE LET HIM unzip her skirt. It fell over her hips, revealing cream lace panties.

  “Come with me.” He was leading her toward the screen.

  “Oh, Sam, I’m not sure about this.” Making love on a gynecologist’s table might have been Fi’s idea of erotic heaven, but it definitely wasn’t Ruby’s.

  “It’s either that or the floor,” he said. “Under this carpet, it’s solid concrete.”

  She eased herself up onto the table. He stood beside her, tilted her face and kissed her lips. “I love you,” he said, smiling at her as he trailed a finger over her breast.

  “I love you, too.”

  Soon their kissing became more urgent. His tongue was probing hard and deep into her mouth. With one hand he was easing her panties down. He put his hand between her legs. She was aware that this was the most kinky thing she had ever done in her life, but she was way past caring. She closed her eyes, let herself float away and waited for him to touch her. She let out a gasp as he gently parted her and began caressing her. She thought she would come in a matter of seconds. He seemed to sense she was close to orgasm and eased up the pressure. At one point he stopped completely, making her cry out in frustration. Then, slowly, barely touching her at first, he began again.

  As her orgasm approached she became vaguely aware of someone singing. She could swear that somewhere way off in the distance, a male voice was belting out Bob Marley’s “One Love.” The singing seemed to be getting louder. Then footsteps kicked in. Sam had clearly heard them and was beginning to panic. “Shit. C’mon, Ruby, are you almost there?”

  “Al…most. Just…just give me another couple of seconds.”

  “One love, one heart. Let’s get together and feel all right.”

  “He’s getting closer. It could be one of the security staff. He might come in.”

  “I know, but don’t stop. Please don’t stop now. I’m almost there. I can do this. I know I can.”

  She came in short, electrified jerks, just as the door opened. Aware that she was prone to call out during orgasm, Sam had clamped his hand over her mouth. “Not a sound,” he whispered, his voice steely with tension.

  The screen surrounding the examination table was made up of strips of curtain. There was a gap between two of the strips, wide enough for them to peer through. As their eyes focused, it was as much as they could do not to cry out in shock. Standing in the doorway, backlit by the light from the corridor was a six-foot-tall, grinning skeleton. A violent shiver shot up Ruby’s back. She was so petrified that she couldn’t think straight. She knew they shouldn’t have done this. Now they were being punished. As over-the-top as it seemed, the Grim bloody Reaper was coming for them. Every instinct told her to get the hell out of there. So what if she was caught running naked and screaming around the hospital parking lot.

  After a few seconds she noticed that—oddly, for the Grim Reaper—he wasn’t carrying a scythe or wearing a hood. On the other hand, what he did have was a mop of thick black, Afro-style dreadlocks. Her fear was turning to confusion. She watched as the thing rattled into the room, legs and arms bouncing and waving like a ghoulish-looking string puppet.

  “One love, one heart. Let’s get together and feel all right.” And since when did the Grim Reaper announce his arrival by singing Bob Marley songs?

  It was then that the dreadlocks became separated from the bones. A Rastafarian porter—six-six if he was an inch—eased the skeleton into the corner of the room and checked that it was safely balanced on its stand. “There we are, bro’. Now you can rest in peace, even if you are made out o’ plastic…One love, one heart. Let’s get together…” And with that, he left the room and gently closed the door behind him. “…Let’s get together and feel all right…”

  Sam instantly exploded with laughter. “It’s my new skeleton,” he cried, rocking back and forth. “All the doctors are being given them for their offices. The hospital bigwigs thought they added a touch of class. God only knows why mine arrived at this time of night…I’m sorry if you were scared.”

  “Me? Scared? I wasn’t scared. I was taken aback, but I could see what it was right away.” For some misguided feminist reason, she always got defensive around men when they suggested she might be scared.

  “Well, I’m glad you could,” he said, running his hand over his head, “’cause I tell you, for a second back there, I actually thought the Grim Reaper had come to get us. Can you believe that?”

  “Don’t worry,” she soothed, “fear and guilt can do strange things to the brain.”

  “I guess.”

  Just then there was a sudden, shrill noise. Ruby let out a short but piercing shriek. “Omigod, what was that?”

  Sam started laughing again. “Hey, Ruby, take it easy. It’s just my phone…So you weren’t scared, eh?” He reached into his pocket for the phone.

  “OK, well I might have been. Just a bit.”

  She
prayed that it wasn’t an emergency call from the labor ward. No sooner had he pressed “connect” than his face fell in that all-too-familiar way. As she began getting dressed, she watched him stride over to the other side of the room. “OK, do what you have to do…let me know.” She couldn’t hear what he said next but she was sure she heard the word police. Clearly, it wasn’t the labor ward calling.

  “God, what’s happened?”

  He seemed to hesitate, almost as if he wasn’t sure what he was about to say next. He was clearly distressed. He ran his hand over the top of his head. “It’s…erm. It’s Buddy. He’s had a stroke.”

  “Omigod. Is he OK?”

  “They don’t know. The hospital’s still doing tests. Irene’s going to phone me later when they know more.”

  “So how were the police involved?”

  “Police? What do you mean? I didn’t mention the police.”

  “Really? But I’m sure you did.”

  “Oh…yeah. Sorry. I remember. Buddy collapsed in the street. The police called the ambulance.”

  They went back to his flat and had an early night. Sam was restless beside her. She cuddled him, stroked his head and did her best to comfort him. Several times she asked if he wanted her to make him a hot drink, but he said he was OK. Then about seven, the phone rang next to the bed. His arm shot out to grab it. He mouthed to her that it was Irene. “OK, I think I’d better come. There’s a flight that leaves Heathrow at ten.”

  “Buddy’s really bad, then?” Ruby said after he’d come off the phone.

  “Yes. It’s not looking good. I’m sorry, Ruby, but I’ve got to go to him.”

  “Of course you have. I know how close you are to him. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I don’t think so.” He was staring up at the ceiling. Even in the half-light she could see the distress on his face. She asked how Irene was bearing up. “She’s doing OK, but she wants me to be there to make sure he gets the best treatment.”