A Very Lucky Christmas

by A Very Lucky Christmas (retail) (epub)

  The lying, scheming, two-faced cow!

  Then something else Melissa said pinged on Daisy’s shellshock radar. ACAS? Did Melissa mean the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service? Unfair dismissal? Daisy searched her mind trying to remember the details of the contract she’d signed when she first started with Caring Cards. She vaguely recalled something about verbal warnings, written warnings, and gross misconduct. But which one of those categories did her misdemeanour fall under?

  There was only one way to find out. She had a copy of the contract at home somewhere, and as soon as she got in through the door, by gum she intended to find it.

  Not wanting to give Melissa (or Mr Dearborn) any inkling that she was anything other than a meek lamb to the slaughter, Daisy waited until Melissa left, then waited some more, just to make sure. She didn’t want her so-called friend to witness her leaving the premises for the second time. As she splashed cold water on her blotchy face, Daisy had a new determination in her eyes.

  Sacked indeed? She’d see about that!

  Chapter 14

  The house was blessedly empty when Daisy stepped into the hall. She wanted to find that contract first (luckily she had thought to take a photocopy of it, all those years ago), and she intended to have her ducks all in a row before her mother shot a barrage of questions at her.

  But first, she had some business to take care of, and she retrieved the rubber gloves, bowl, and spoon from her bedroom with distaste.

  Nada. Nothing. Zilch.

  She disinfected the utensils and her hands about twenty-three times, then pressed a hand to her stomach. It felt a bit swollen, and she hoped it wasn’t the result of a silver sixpence festering inside her. Lord knows what poison the damn thing was leaking into her innards.

  It took her about an hour of rooting through assorted letters, papers and stuff she had no idea as to why she’d kept, but it must have seemed like a good idea at the time. Daisy eventually found what she was looking for, snatching the contract from the file and waving it triumphantly.

  ‘Ta dah!’ she squealed, before remembering that she didn’t know what it said, and she might not have anything to be triumphant about. She had just started to read it, when the insistent and stupidly loud ring of the house phone broke her concentration.

  ‘Go away,’ she muttered, knowing it wouldn’t be for her, and nodded when it stopped.

  It started again.

  Daisy rolled her eyes and tried to ignore it, but when it stopped again and her mobile rang instead, she answered it.

  ‘Daisy?’ It was Zoe and she sounded strange.

  Mind you, Daisy had hardly heard the other woman say more than a handful of words, and two of those had been “I do”, when her sister-in-law had said her vows, so for all Daisy knew, this could be her normal speaking voice.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you in work, but I didn’t know who else to call. My parents are on a cruise and your mum doesn’t answer and—’

  ‘Slow down,’ Daisy said, and uncrossing her legs; she’d been sitting on her bedroom floor, leaning against the bed, surrounded by files and boxes, but now she sat up straight.

  ‘What’s wrong, and where’s David?’ she demanded, and unease squirmed deep inside her.

  ‘He’s at a conference in London and his phone is switched off,’ Zoe said. ‘Oh, Daisy, can you come? I’m at the hospital.’

  ‘Why?’ Daisy asked, but she thought she already knew the answer.

  ‘I think I’m losing the baby.’

  ‘Stay there. Don’t move,’ Daisy shouted, leaping to her feet, her legs cramping as pins and needles shot down her calves. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ she cried, hopping around her bedroom, wondering what she’d done with her car keys. They were here somewhere…

  The call ended, and Daisy flew out of the door, never so thankful in her life that she had no one to ask permission of, and that the snow was a slushy memory. How she made it to the hospital without having an accident, Daisy didn’t know, but she pulled safely into a space and ran from the car.

  Poor Zoe, she thought, as she dashed into the A&E waiting area. Poor David. Please tell me this isn’t happening.

  ‘Zoe Jones,’ she panted at one of the admin staff. ‘She’s pregnant.’

  With infinite slowness, the woman behind the bulletproof glass checked her computer. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Doctor is with her now.’

  ‘Can I see her? How is she? Is the baby okay? Please tell me it is.’

  ‘When Doctor has finished examining her, he’ll be out to speak to you. Please take a seat.’

  ‘But she asked for me,’ Daisy protested. ‘She just called, not half an hour ago. Ask her, if you don’t believe me.’

  The woman gave her a seen-it-all-before smile and pointed at the seat. ‘Doctor will be with you soon,’ she repeated. Daisy could tell there was no budging her, so she plonked down in a chair and nibbled on her nails.

  After five minutes, the skin around her index finger started to bleed, so she stopped biting and started phoning instead.

  There was no answer from anyone.

  ‘Pick up,’ she muttered, cursing her mother for forgetting her mobile – again.

  If only she could speak to Zoe she might be able to find out where David was, and ring the conference venue direct.

  She tried Zoe’s mobile, but it went straight to answerphone.

  Shit!

  It looked like Daisy was going to have to deal with the situation on her own, though nothing in her thirty years had prepared her for something like this.

  Finally, the door opened and a man in a white coat peered through it. ‘Zoe Jones?’ he called.

  ‘She should be in there,’ Daisy replied, pointing at the half-open door behind him.

  ‘She is,’ the doctor said. ‘I was asking if there was anyone with her.’

  No, you weren’t Daisy thought, as she stood up to follow him. He’d said Zoe’s name, not hers, and she hoped Dr Hartley didn’t recognise her.

  Trust it to be him.

  ‘How is she?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Comfortable,’ he said noncommittally.

  Daisy knew that comfortable could mean anything from having lost the baby, to Zoe still being pregnant. Comfortable told her absolutely nothing at all.

  ‘Has she…?’ Daisy trailed off as she trotted behind him.

  Dr Hartley said nothing, stopping outside a cubicle and pulling aside the curtain. It was empty.

  Daisy let out of small cry, followed by a sob and then, ‘Oh God.’ She slapped a hand to her mouth.

  ‘You can wait here,’ Dr Hartley said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be glad to see a familiar face.’

  ‘Oh.’ Daisy took her hands away from her mouth. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

  ‘We’ll know more after the ultrasound,’ he said, and this time he sounded almost sympathetic.

  Daisy nodded.

  Dr Hartley turned away then paused. ‘And how are you?’ he asked, over his shoulder. ‘Any change?’

  Daisy shook her head, mortified.

  He gave her a chuckle. ‘Any change,’ he repeated, then. ‘See what I did there? Change, as in “have you got any change”?’

  Daisy saw, and she wasn’t amused. She glared at him and he shrugged, abruptly losing the brief flash of humour (if you could call it humour) and his expression sobered. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, and glanced at her stomach.

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I think, though my tummy is a bit bloated,’ she added.

  He gave her an odd look. ‘It would be, wouldn’t it?’ he said.

  Would it? She knew swallowed coins could do some damage but why hadn’t he warned her about it? She placed a hand on her tummy and pressed in a bit. It felt decidedly squishy and flabby. Once this sixpence was out of her, she’d simply have to find some time to go to the gym.

  Oh yes, she remembered, she had plenty of time now, didn’t she, just when she couldn’t afford the membership fee. Typical.

  ‘When is
it due?’ he asked her.

  ‘Five to ten days, you told me,’ Daisy replied, wondering how he could have forgotten, since he clearly remembered the incident.

  ‘Not the coin, the baby,’ he clarified.

  ‘Oh, in about six months.’ Surely Zoe would have told him how far along she was.

  ‘Early days then,’ he said. ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking hope. He must think the baby was okay to say that. She couldn’t wait to tell Zoe.

  ‘As I said before, any problems, any at all, come straight in. Don’t wait to go to your GP.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she said, wondering if he was talking about Zoe, or about her.

  ‘We can’t be too careful when you’re pregnant, can we?’

  Daisy realised that he was still talking about her sister-in-law. ‘I’m sure David will take good care of her,’ she said.

  ‘David is…?

  ‘Her husband.’

  ‘He’s the baby’s father?’

  ‘Of course.’

  A noise distracted him and he pulled out his bleeper, frowning when he looked at the screen. ‘Can you get hold of him?’ he asked.

  ‘His phone is switched off,’ Daisy explained. ‘He’s at some kind of dental conference.’

  Another frown, this time directed at Daisy. ‘He’s the man who brought you in on Christmas Day?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him.’ Her reply was cautious. What was it with all these questions?

  ‘Zoe must be a very understanding lady,’ he said, and Daisy could have sworn there was a note of reprimand in his voice.

  ‘He doesn’t go away all that often,’ Daisy said, feeling the need to stick up for her brother.

  ‘Ah, here she is,’ Dr Hartley said, as the curtain was pulled aside and a porter wheeled Zoe into the cubicle. Daisy marvelled at the way the doctor’s whole demeanour changed the minute he saw Zoe. Gone was the stern, slightly forbidding man he’d been for the last few minutes, and in its place was a man full of concern, and more than a little solemnity.

  That wasn’t good. Hadn’t he just told her everything was okay?

  ‘Zoe,’ he began, his tone sending a child chill down Daisy’s spine. ‘I’ve got the results of your ultrasound, and they’re rather mixed, I’m afraid.’

  Zoe’s eyes welled up and her chin wobbled.

  ‘I want to admit you,’ the doctor said.

  ‘Is the baby alright?’ Zoe demanded, her hands on her stomach.

  ‘You were carrying twins,’ he said. ‘You’ve lost one of them. The other foetus is still viable.’

  ‘Twins?’ Zoe asked her voice catching.

  ‘It’s not uncommon to miscarry one,’ the doctor said, ‘and I know how upsetting this must be for you, but the other baby looks fine. I want to keep you in, run a couple of tests. But the most important thing is to keep you calm and rested.’ He shot Daisy a look full of significance as he said the last.

  Daisy nodded frantically. She could do that. She could help look after her sister-in-law, especially now, since she didn’t have anything else to do.

  ‘I’ll look after her,’ Daisy offered.

  ‘Is that wise?’ Dr Hartley countered, and Daisy was confused, and more than a little hurt. Just because she’d been unlucky enough (or silly enough) to swallow a foreign object, it didn’t mean she couldn’t look after Zoe.

  ‘Under the circumstances,’ he added, glancing at Daisy’s stomach.

  ‘Oh?’ Daisy’s heart plummeted to her feet. There must be something the doctor hadn’t told her, like the coin was leaking some noxious substance into her body, which was coming out through her pores or something. He obviously thought there was a risk to the baby.

  Zoe lay in stunned silence, tears trickling unchecked down her cheeks.

  Poor thing – what awful news. Two babies, and only one still alive. Daisy put a hand on Zoe’s shoulder and gave it an ineffectual rub. How long does it take to recover from something like this, if one ever did, she wondered? David would be devastated.

  Zoe must have been thinking the same thing. ‘I must tell David,’ she said.

  ‘We’ll get hold of him,’ Daisy promised. ‘Where is the conference being held?’

  ‘I’ve got it written down somewhere,’ Zoe said, staring around her frantically.

  She looked even worse than she had on Christmas Day, with her pale face and huge eyes, and dark circles beneath them. Her long blond hair hung limply and Daisy absentmindedly brushed a stray strand away from the other woman’s cheek.

  Zoe subsided against the pillow. ‘It’s at home,’ she said. ‘I tacked it to the fridge.’

  ‘I’ll try him on his mobile again,’ Daisy said, and stepped outside into the corridor.

  This time her brother answered, but Daisy, to her eternal shame, had hoped he wouldn’t. How was she supposed to break news like this to him?

  ‘Hi, Daisy? What’s up?’

  Daisy never called him during the day, knowing he was usually with a patient (actually, she hardly ever called him at all), so it was no surprise he jumped to the conclusion there was something wrong.

  ‘It’s Zoe,’ she said. ‘I’ve got some bad news.’ She took a deep breath and ploughed ahead before her brother had a chance to say anything. ‘She was having twins. She lost one, David. I am so sorry.’

  A muffled sound came down the airwaves, followed by, ‘How is she?’ after a pause, during which Daisy simply knew he’d been crying.

  ‘She’s okay, and the other baby is fine,’ she said. ‘Zoe is still pregnant, David. You’re still going to be a father.’ She understood this was little consolation to him now, but she had to try to give him any comfort that she could. ‘They’re keeping her in, and she’s got to take it easy,’ she added.

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ he promised, and Daisy went back inside to try to comfort his wife.

  Dr Hartley was taking a blood sample and Daisy looked away, suddenly squeamish. Zoe was lying on the trolley, her eyes closed, tears still dripping into her hair. She looked so young and so helpless, and Daisy vowed to take care of her, if it was the last thing she did.

  She waited until the doctor finished and had put a cotton wool ball on the tiny wound, securing it with a plaster, before she said to Zoe, ‘I managed to get hold of him. He’s on his way.’

  She turned to the doctor. ‘Can I stay with her until he arrives?’ she asked.

  Dr Hartley looked up, his eyes meeting hers. His were such a startling blue and they gazed into hers with such intensity that it made her shiver.

  ‘It’s up to Zoe,’ he said, ‘though I would be inclined to say no. I don’t know the dynamics of your personal relationships, but I’m seriously concerned that my patient isn’t subjected to any undue stress right now.’

  ‘I promise I won’t do anything to stress her,’ Daisy said, resisting the urge to add “cross my heart and hope to die”.

  ‘Zoe?’ he asked.

  ‘I want her to stay, please.’ Zoe was so quiet, Daisy could hardly hear her.

  ‘You can stay until her husband arrives,’ the doctor said. ‘But I want you to leave as soon as he gets here. What you do outside of this hospital is your own concern; it’s Mrs Jones,’ (he stressed the word missus), ‘who is my main concern.’

  Daisy wondered what on earth he was talking about and she was about to ask, when Zoe struggled into a sitting position.

  ‘Are you sure the baby is okay?’ Zoe asked.

  ‘I’m sure,’ the doctor said. ‘Did you see it on the screen when you had the ultrasound?’

  ‘No, the screen was turned away from me.’

  The doctor nodded and muttered, ‘Of course.’

  ‘But I did hear a heartbeat,’ Zoe added.

  ‘Do you want to listen to it again?’

  Zoe’s nod was emphatic. Daisy wanted to hear it too, to reassure herself, and David, when he arrived.

  The doctor called for a nurse, and after a quick conversation, a machine w
as wheeled in. The doctor rubbed gel over Zoe’s rather flat stomach and placed a wand on it.

  A steady rapid thump, alarmingly fast, filled the cubicle.

  Zoe closed her eyes and smiled. It was a tiny frightened smile, but at least it was a smile. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

  ‘My pleasure.’ The doctor turned to Daisy. ‘Do you want to listen to yours?’

  ‘Er… no thanks. I think my heartbeat is fine.’

  ‘Not your heartbeat,’ the doctor said. ‘Your baby’s.’

  ‘What?’ Daisy, for want of a better word, was gobsmacked, and she started back until she was brought up short by the cubicle wall.

  Oh my God! No wonder her tummy was bloated. No wonder she’d been so hungry (her friend, Wendy, had been ravenous during both of her pregnancies). And no wonder Dr Hartley hadn’t wanted her to have an x-ray. The doctor had seen what she hadn’t.

  She was pregnant.

  Chapter 15

  How the hell was she going to break the news to Freddie? More to the point, how was she going to break the news to her mother? And her nan would be livid. At least Mum had a ring on her finger before she’d had kids, even if the man who’d put it there was nothing but a waster who had absconded once the reality of having a wife and children had sunk in.

  Were all the women in her family doomed to play the same broken record over and over again?

  She thought of the little soul developing inside her, and prayed it was a boy.

  Her, a mother? She couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t the way she’d imagined her life would play out (she’d expected marriage to come first), and here she was lacking a man, as well as the wedding. But… she was going to be a mother. She’d have a little person to nurture and love, and to guide and teach. If it was a girl, she’d dress her up in ribbons and tutus, take her to ballet lessons, have princess-themed birthday parties, braid her hair and—

  Reality struck with the force of a wrecking ball on a pre-fab house. The truth was, she’d be a single mother, with no home, and no job, and little prospect of getting either. An employer would take one look at her round belly and say “thanks, but no thanks”.

  Daisy felt sorry for the little mite she was about to bring into the world. What kind of a future would it have? And she also felt scared, not just because of the problems she faced, because although she’d always imagined herself being a mother, the reality was terrifying. She might be nearly thirty, but she still felt about fifteen, twenty at a push, on a good day, when she was seriously trying to adult.