‘Perfect. You’re good at that. Better than me. So—we’re finished. Good boy.’ Marco sat down in the chair opposite Sue. ‘All right. I don’t see anything that worries me. I don’t think this is what you’re afraid it is, but if you want more definite reassurance I can refer him for an MRI scan.’
Sue pulled a face. ‘I was scanned so many times. I wouldn’t want him to have that. It’s radiation, isn’t it?’
‘You’re talking about CT scans. An MRI scan is different.’ Marco’s voice was calm and patient. ‘There is no radioactivity, no risk to the patient and Harry is old enough to tolerate it with no problem.’
Sue looked at him and her eyes filled. ‘You don’t think it’s…anything? Truly?’
Amy knew she was avoiding saying the word ‘cancer’ because the little boy was still in the room.
‘I don’t think so, although medicine is never an exact science, as you are well aware.’ Marco’s sympathetic smile indicated that he was referring to her own medical history. ‘I think Harry might be suffering from migraines. Not an easy diagnosis to make in a child because the pattern of headaches is not always predictable, but what you describe—the drilling pain, the very definite episode, which is relieved by paracetamol, the fact he needs to lie down…’ Marco shrugged his shoulders. ‘This sounds to me like migraine and there is some family history to support the theory.’
Sue looked at him. ‘If he were your child, what would you do?’
Amy felt her stomach flip. Marco’s child.
His mind clearly in tune with hers, Marco’s gaze flickered to hers momentarily and something burned, slow and hot, in the depths of his eyes. Amy swallowed, knowing that he was thinking of the plans they’d made to have a family.
‘If he were mine…’ Marco dragged his gaze from Amy’s and glanced across at the little boy, who was playing happily on the carpet. ‘If he were mine, I would watch him for a while, see how he goes. I think you should keep a diary of the headaches so that we can assess exactly how many he is getting, how long they last and whether there are any obvious triggers. Do that for six weeks and then make an appointment with one of us to go through the diary. We can look at the frequency and decide whether to refer him to the paediatricians at the hospital for them to take a closer look.’
‘But you don’t think—’
‘No.’ Marco’s voice was firm. ‘I don’t. But we will watch him. And if you decide that you would be happier if he had an MRI scan, you have only to let me know and I will arrange it.’
Sue closed her eyes for a moment and let out a long breath. ‘Thank you for that. I’ll pass on the scan for the time being. But what could be causing the migraines, do you think?’
‘It’s hard to say.’ Marco watched the child play. ‘Often we underestimate children, especially very young children. We imagine that because they are young, they are somehow not aware of what is going on around them, but that is rarely the case. Most children are extremely intuitive and even if they don’t pick up on conversations they pick up on atmosphere. Is he a sensitive child, would you say?’
‘Very.’ Sue looked at her son. ‘He’s a worrier. And very caring. Even in the playground at school, he’s always watching out for other children.’
Marco nodded slowly. ‘So—we know that the past two years have been very hard for you personally and also for your family. It would be almost impossible for that not to have had an impact.’
‘I suppose so. We’ve done our best to protect the children, but inevitably some of it filters through.’ Sue rose to her feet and managed a smile. ‘But things are going better now. I’m hoping this is going to be our lucky year. Will you be in the Penhally Arms on New Year’s Eve, Dr Avanti? I hear they’re planning quite an evening.’
‘Sì. Where else would I be on New Year’s Eve when the drink is free?’ Marco winked at her. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘Then we might see you. Thank you, both of you. Harry…’ Sue held out a hand to her son. ‘Let’s go and write a few more thank-you letters for all those Christmas presents.’
Harry gave an exaggerated shudder but followed his mother out of the room with a wave at Marco.
‘Sweet boy,’ Amy said quietly, and then realised that Marco was watching her.
‘I thought you didn’t like children?’
She stiffened. ‘I never said I didn’t like children. I just said I didn’t want any of my own. That’s completely different.’ Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she turned away. She couldn’t live like this. Couldn’t be on her guard the whole time. It was exhausting and she was a useless, terrible liar. ‘So we’ll keep an eye on him, then. Thanks for looking at him. You really think he’s all right?’
‘Who?’ It was as if his mind was somewhere else entirely. Then he sighed. ‘Oh, Harry—yes. Amy, his neurological examination was normal, there was no evidence of poor co-ordination, ataxia or nystagmus. His peripheral nervous system was normal. His cardiovascular system was normal. Personally, I wouldn’t even scan him, but if Sue carries on worrying, it’s worth arranging it.’
‘I’ll do that. Or I suppose the locum can do it if I’ve gone. I’ll make sure the notes are detailed. Thank you, Marco.’
He studied her in brooding silence. ‘My pleasure.’
The antenatal clinic was held that afternoon and Amy spent her entire lunch hour wondering whether there was any way she could get out of it without drawing attention to herself.
Five minutes before it was due to start she was still sitting in the staffroom when Kate hurried in. ‘You haven’t forgotten your clinic, Amy?’
If only.
‘No.’ Amy forced a smile. ‘Just having five minutes’ rest before I start.’
‘We almost cancelled this particular clinic as it’s the week between Christmas and New Year, but there were so many patients that in the end I decided that we had to run it. Are you going to eat that sandwich in front of you or just look at it?’ Kate flicked the switch on the kettle and waited for it to boil.
‘I’m not really hungry.’ It was a shame they hadn’t cancelled the clinic.
‘You have a busy afternoon ahead of you. You should eat lunch.’ Kate made her coffee and added some milk. ‘Is it Marco that’s made you lose your appetite? What’s going on with the two of you?’
Amy hesitated. Kate was a friend, but she wasn’t used to confiding in people. All her life she’d made her own decisions and relied on herself. To begin with she’d had no choice, and then it had become a way of life. ‘We’re—Well, let’s just say our relationship is still over. We’re just working a few things out.’
‘That must be hard.’ Kate put her mug on the table and sat down. ‘You’re very pale, Amy. Are you ill? Or is it just the stress of seeing Marco again?’
Could she pretend she was ill?
It would get her out of doing the clinic and it wasn’t altogether a lie. The mere thought of spending an afternoon talking to pregnant women was enough to make her ill. But if she said she was ill, Marco would be on to her, trying to find out what was wrong.
‘I’m not ill.’
‘Then it must be stress. Do you honestly think the two of you are going to be able to work together?’ Kate slowly stirred sugar into her coffee. ‘I know that Nick’s worried about it. He thinks that the history between you is going to make things difficult.’
‘It will be fine. Nick has nothing to worry about. Marco and I are not planning to discuss the demise of our marriage at work.’
‘No—all the same, it was good of you to stay and help us. I’m guessing that you didn’t want to but Marco is very persuasive, as we both know. He has a way of getting a person to say yes to all sorts of things.’ Kate’s voice was gentle. ‘Whatever you say to the contrary, I know this can’t be easy for you, Amy. I never really understood what went wrong between the two of you but if you want someone to talk to, you have a friend in me. I just wanted to remind you of that.’
‘Thanks. Thanks, Kate.’ Unbelievably touched, Amy rose to her feet
quickly before she was tempted to blurt out the truth about the current situation. ‘Love is complicated, isn’t it? And painful.’ She had no doubt that Kate knew firsthand how painful love could be. Hadn’t she lost her husband in a tragedy at sea that had left her to bring up a child alone?
‘Yes. It’s both those things.’
‘How are things with you? How is Jeremiah?’
‘Jem? He’s fine. Really good. He’s eight now. Unbelievable, really, how time passes.’ For a moment, Kate stared blankly into the distance and then she cleared her throat and reached for her coffee, suddenly brisk and efficient. ‘I envy you doing the antenatal clinic. At least pregnant women are healthy and cheerful.’
Amy’s smile froze. ‘Yes.’
‘There are days when I miss midwifery.’
‘I’d forgotten that you’re a trained midwife.’ This was a conversation she didn’t want to be having. ‘I’d better get on. I’ll see you later, Kate.’
She had a clinic to run. A clinic that she didn’t want to take.
And she needed to prepare herself.
Amy worked on automatic, barely registering the identity of
each patient.
It was as if a part of her mind was shut off.
By four o’clock, she only had one pregnant woman left to go and she poured herself a glass of water and drank deeply, promising herself that she was going to go straight home after the clinic. She was going to go straight home and hide under the duvet.
The door opened and her last patient walked in, a blonde woman in her late twenties, carrying a baby in a car seat.
‘I know, I know, you’re thinking I’m in the wrong clinic.’ The woman laughed and sat down on the chair. ‘Can you believe it? This little one is only four months old and I’m pregnant again! It’s done wonders for my husband’s ego. He thinks he’s some sort of stallion. So much for the contraceptive effects of breastfeeding! I didn’t believe it at first but I’ve done the test three times so I don’t think there’s any doubt. I rang for an appointment and they told me to come along this afternoon. They like you to get checked out as soon as possible these days, don’t they?’
‘That’s right. You did the right thing to come.’ Amy’s mouth dried. ‘Congratulations. Are you pleased?’
‘Oh, yes. Well, Geoff, that’s my husband, always wanted a large family so it’s not a problem. We hadn’t quite planned on having them so close together but it’s quite good when they’re close in age, isn’t it?’ The baby started to cry and she bent down, undid the straps and gently lifted the baby from the car seat. ‘Oh, now I’ve woken him up with my loud voice. Are you ready for your milk? Ridiculous, isn’t it? Breastfeeding while you’re pregnant. I mean, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Is it OK? I don’t want to deprive the new baby of nutrients or anything.’
Amy watched as the woman lifted her jumper and skilfully attached the baby to her breast. The baby greedily clamped its jaws around her nipple and then closed his eyes and started to suck, a blissful expression on his face.
What did it feel like?
‘Are you all right, Dr Avanti?’ The woman frowned at her. ‘You look a bit pale, yourself.’
‘I’m fine,’ Amy said tonelessly.
‘And you’re married to the other Dr Avanti. Lucky you. Now, that’s a man any woman would want to make babies with.’
The pain inside her was so vicious that it took Amy a moment to find the breath to speak. ‘It shouldn’t be a problem to continue breastfeeding.’ Somehow she forced herself to deliver the facts. ‘Your biggest problem is likely to be that you’ll feel very tired. Make sure you get plenty of rest and eat well. The taste of the milk might change and the baby might object to that for a while…’ With difficulty she got through the consultation, saying what needed to be said and carrying out the tests that needed to be done.
By the time she finally closed the door on her consulting room at the end of clinic she felt emotionally drained. Sliding back into her chair, she felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyes.
Appalled at herself, she took a huge gulping breath and tried to control her emotions, but her misery was just too great to be contained and the tears spilled down her cheeks as the dam broke.
Sobs tore through her body and she put her head in her arms and gave in to it, crying like a child, consumed by the emotion that had been building inside her for so long.
She didn’t hear the door open—wasn’t aware of anything apart from her own misery until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and the sound of her name.
She gave a start and lifted her head to find Nick standing there, a look of concern on his face. ‘Amy? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing.’ Mortified, she sat up instantly and rubbed her palms over her cheeks, trying to compose herself. ‘Well, this is embarrassing. I’m so sorry. Really sorry. I’m just tired or something. It’s been a bit of a long week.’ Her voice was thickened by crying and she knew that she must look a mess.
‘Tired?’ He studied her for a moment and then pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. ‘No one cries like that just because they’re tired. Are you depressed?’
Depressed?
Sodden with misery, Amy just stared at him. Clearly he wasn’t going to leave her alone without an explanation and she was worn out with searching for new explanations that would keep people satisfied. ‘Honestly, I’m not depressed. I’m sorry, Nick.’ She yanked a tissue out of the box on her desk and blew her nose hard. ‘That was very unprofessional of me. I can assure you that I was fine in front of the patients. I didn’t—’
‘Amy.’ His tone was gruff as he interrupted her anxious apology. ‘At this precise moment I don’t give a damn about the patients. I’m not thinking about the patients. It’s you that I’m worried about.’
‘That’s kind of you.’ She blew her nose again and then gave him a smile. ‘But there’s no need to worry. I’m fine. Really.’
‘Fine doesn’t make you sob your heart out on the desk. Does this have something to do with the antenatal clinic? You really didn’t want to run it, did you? And we didn’t listen.’
‘It’s not the antenatal clinic.’
Nick watched her. ‘Did you lose a baby, Amy?’
‘No!’ She shot him an anguished look, the pain twisting inside her.
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Then what’s this about? Tell me.’
Amy teetered on the edge of confession and then suddenly remembered just who Nick was. ‘I can’t.’ The tears threatened to start again and she gritted her teeth. ‘I—It wouldn’t be fair to you.’
‘So it’s something to do with your relationship with Marco and you’re afraid that telling me would put me in a difficult position. You’re also not sure that you trust me not to tell him. He mentioned that you’d changed your mind about having a family. Is this related?’
‘Don’t ask me. I can’t talk to you, Nick.’
‘I’m your doctor. You can talk to me and it’s confidential.’
She blew her nose again and gave a watery smile. ‘You’re not my doctor. I’ve only been back in the country for five minutes. I don’t have a doctor.’
‘Well, you clearly need one, so from now on I’m officially your doctor. Kate will take care of the paperwork.’ There was a faint trace of humour in his eyes. ‘I need new patients. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re nowhere near busy enough around here. I want to know why you were crying, Amy.’
She looked at him, her reluctance dissolving under the kindness she saw in his eyes. ‘I find the antenatal clinic difficult.’
‘Yes. I gathered that.’ His voice was soft. ‘Tell me why, Amy. Tell me why you find it difficult.’
She waited a heartbeat. ‘Because I can’t have children. I’m infertile.’
Nick was silent for a moment and then he sat back in his chair and gave a slow nod. ‘All right. Now things are starting to make more sense. And this, presumably, is why you ended a relations
hip with a man you love?’
‘I had no choice.’
‘What about Marco? Didn’t you think he deserved to know?’
‘Don’t judge me, Nick!’ Her voice sharp, she rose to her feet and paced across the consulting room. Then she turned and wrapped her arms around her body, rubbing her hands up her arms to try and warm herself. ‘I did what had to be done.’
‘Can we take this a step at a time? When the two of you first arrived in Penhally, you were planning to start a family, I know. That’s why you didn’t bother finding a job. You were chasing around looking for suitable houses. You’d only been together for a few months. Given that you were in your early thirties, I wouldn’t have expected you to become pregnant immediately. It often doesn’t work like that, as you well know.’
‘I know.’ Should she tell him the truth? ‘I went for tests.’
‘After three months?’
‘It was longer than that. By the time I had the tests, we’d been together for six months. No contraception. No pregnancy.’ She started to pace again. ‘To begin with I thought what you thought. I said all those things women always say to themselves when they’re trying to get pregnant. Six months is nothing. I’m over thirty, it might take a while. And then I bumped into an old friend I was in med school with and she turned out to be an infertility specialist at a clinic in Exeter. I decided I may as well have some tests.’
‘You didn’t tell Marco?’
‘No.’ She stopped pacing. ‘I wanted to find out for myself.’
‘So what did the tests show?’
‘Scarring.’ Such a simple word for something that had had such a massive impact on her life. ‘Mild endometriosis. Not enough to need treatment but quite enough to interfere with my fertility. The doctor said that my Fallopian tubes are completely gummed up.’
Nick listened carefully and then he stirred. ‘Well, the first thing to say is that infertility is a particularly inexact science. No doctor would ever be able to be one hundred per cent sure that you were infertile.’
‘She said that if an egg ever made it along my Fallopian tube, she’d be surprised.’
Caroline Anderson, Sara Morgan, Josie Metcalfe, Jennifer Taylor Page 25