The Baby Question

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘I don’t know if she will.’

  ‘Well, she won’t yet, that’s for sure. You need to get radical, Rob. Get to it.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘OK. Get me Mike.’

  She smiled and unfolded her legs and stood up, and he looked at her and realised for the first time that she was a very lovely woman.

  ‘Sue?’

  She turned at the door.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘I don’t suppose,’ he said, pushing his luck, ‘there’s any coffee on the go?’

  ‘I’ll get you Mike while it brews.’

  He smiled, and with a cheeky wink she went out and shut the door.

  He rubbed his hands together. They were sweating, and his heart was pounding. Adrenaline. Fight or flight.

  And he was getting ready for the fight of his life.

  Laurie was miserable. The weather was cold and wet and wretched, she was lonely, and her business didn’t hold her interest any more. Been there, done that, she thought.

  The phone rang, and it was Andy.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ her old friend said brightly. Too brightly.

  ‘Hi,’ Laurie replied, a little wary. ‘How are you? I gather from Rob that Jonathan’s been away.’

  ‘Oh, isn’t he always? Not as away as you, though. You might have said something.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was a last-minute thing,’ she said, not bothering to add that Andy would have been the last person she’d tell, close as they’d been. The town crier had nothing on her.

  ‘So when are you coming back?’ Andy asked, and Laurie hesitated.

  ‘I’m not sure. Why?’

  She could almost hear the shrug. ‘Just curious. It seems a little dangerous to leave that man alone down here while you go off to your Scottish retreat.’

  ‘He comes to stay,’ she said, posting hands-off signals all over him, but it was too subtle for Andy. Either that or she had her own agenda, which was more likely.

  ‘It’s a long way to go for sex,’ she said, and Laurie thought she could detect a thread of warning in her friend’s voice. ‘Especially when there’s plenty available much nearer home.’

  Laurie stared at the receiver in astonishment. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ she said bluntly.

  ‘Just a friendly warning. He’s too good a catch to leave unattended. It’s not just me, darling, there are hundreds of women out there who’d kill to be in your shoes, but I have to say if you’re leaving him for keeps, I’d appreciate a tip-off.’

  ‘Andy, you’re married!’ she said, scandalised. ‘What about Jonathan?’

  ‘What about him? He’s been impotent for three years, Laurie. That’s why we haven’t got kids. Trust me, Rob’s a much better bet.’

  Impotent? Poor Jonathan. She dragged her mind back to what Andy was saying. ‘Rob’s never at home either.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s because it’s not welcoming enough,’ she said.

  There was a soft click, and the dialling tone sounded in Laurie’s ear. She put the phone down and stared blindly out of the window. Was Andy really threatening her, or was she just trying to bring her to her senses?

  Lord knows, but it gave her something to think about.

  She switched off her computer, got up and went out with the dogs for a long, thoughtful walk. At the end of it they were all muddy and tired, but at least she now knew what she was doing.

  She just hoped Rob would agree.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ROB worked flat out for the next four days, rescheduling his life, off-loading work, companies—all manner of things. He changed his car, too. A saloon was no good for what he had in mind.

  Sue said nothing. She just worked tirelessly beside him, helping him with the administrative details of his radical shake-up. The only hint she gave that she was pleased was an occasional approving smile. Nothing more, but it kept him on track, and gave him hope. If Sue thought he was doing the right thing, then with any luck Laurie would, too.

  Please, God.

  Early on the Friday morning he set off in his brand new Mercedes estate and drove to Scotland, arriving unannounced at the cottage in mid-evening.

  He hadn’t phoned to warn her because he’d wanted to take her by surprise. He liked doing that. She always seemed pleased to see him. That probably ought to give him confidence, he thought, getting out of the car, but somehow it didn’t.

  Not enough.

  His heart was banging against his ribs, his blood pressure must be sky high, and he realised that the next few minutes were probably going to be the most important of his life. That was pretty scary. Drawing in a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock on the door just as she opened it.

  ‘Rob.’

  No rapturous welcome—at least, not from her. The dogs were doing their usual ecstatic thing, but she was thoughtful and silent. He pushed them down and straightened, searching her unsmiling face for clues.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, and she smiled then, a little, strained smile that didn’t really reach her eyes.

  ‘Yes. Of course. I just wasn’t expecting you.’

  She’s got a lover, he thought with absolute and horrendous certainty. Oh, hell, she’s got a lover, either here now or due here shortly.

  ‘Is it inconvenient?’ he asked, his heart in suspense, but she shook her head and opened the door wider.

  ‘Of course not. It’s just—well, like I said, I wasn’t expecting you.’ She rubbed her hands together nervously. At least, he assumed it was nerves. He’d never seen her do it before. ‘I was coming to see you, actually,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I’ve got something to say to you.’

  She looked so serious that his heart, on the point of overdrive, beat even harder. She was going to ask for a divorce, he thought. Oh, no. Please, no, not that.

  ‘I’ve got something to say to you, too,’ he said tautly. ‘That’s why I’m here. So, who’s going first?’

  ‘Why don’t you?’ she said, turning away so he couldn’t see her eyes. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’

  He hadn’t had any for days, on Sue’s instructions, but he wasn’t going to say no. Not now. He would have asked for some of the malt whisky, but he was probably about to have to start driving again, judging by the drawn look on her face and her huge and smudgy eyes with their unreadable expression.

  He followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table she’d threatened to burn when they were snowed in. It looked curiously tidy in there. She must have had a blitz. For the boyfriend? Oh, hell. He couldn’t stand this.

  ‘I’ve given New York to Mike,’ he said abruptly, piling in without preamble or explanation. ‘I’ve sold the Paris operation to someone who’s been after it for months, I’ve advertised for an assistant and I’ve arranged to cut down on my travelling.’

  She went absolutely still. ‘Why the estate car?’ she said in a strange voice.

  He took a deep breath. ‘For the dogs,’ he said, and left it hanging there for her to work out.

  She sat down opposite him slowly, and he thought if he touched her, she’d shatter. Her eyes were huge. ‘I don’t understand.’

  He closed his eyes and counted to ten, then opened them and looked at her, letting her see right down inside him to the vulnerable and needy man who was so afraid of losing her. ‘I love you, Laurie,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t go on like this. I need you in my life—properly in my life, not tucked away in some fantasy world where I can only come and see you from time to time, but with me in my bed every night, beside me, working with me, part of my life.’

  He dragged in a shaky breath and went on, ‘And if I can’t have that, then—I guess it’s goodbye.’

  His voice faltered on the last word, and he dropped his eyes, unable to let her see inside him any more. Some things were just too close to home, too painful, too revealing—

  ‘Rob?’

  Her voice was gentle, but he could hardly hear it for the rushing in his ears and the
agony of suspense.

  ‘Rob, look at me.’

  He lifted his head, using up the last of his courage, and saw she was smiling, her eyes shimmering with tears.

  ‘I love you,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I was coming home. I’m all packed, the car’s loaded, I was leaving in the morning. I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, or if you’d want me back, but I need you, and if all I can have is the little bit of time you have left over after work, well, it’ll have to be enough, because I can’t live without you. You’re all that matters to me, Rob, everything I care about, and I need to be with you.’

  He stared at her speechlessly for an age, then somehow they were in each other’s arms and he was holding her, wrapping her tight against his chest, and she was clinging to him as if she could never let him go. ‘Thank God for that,’ he said unevenly, ‘because I need you, too, more than you’ll ever know.’

  ‘I think I can imagine,’ she said with a shaky little laugh. ‘Oh, Rob. Oh, thank God. I was so scared.’

  He buried his face in her hair, pressing his lips to it. ‘So was I—scared you’d say no, scared I’d left it too late, scared I’d lose you. Scared of everything. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d told me you couldn’t come back.’

  She looked up at him, her eyes soft and swimming with tears of joy. ‘Not a chance,’ she said softly. ‘I’m coming back, Rob, be sure of that. I’m coming back and I’m never leaving you again, not as long as I can breathe.’

  His arms tightened convulsively around her, and he dropped his head onto her shoulder and gave a ragged sigh. They stood there like that for ages, and then he lifted his head and looked down at her.

  ‘Let’s go to bed. I need to hold you, and I’m so tired I’m almost asleep on my feet.’

  ‘What about the coffee?’

  ‘What about the coffee? I don’t want it, I want you. Nothing else. Just you.’

  Nothing else. Just her.

  That sounded good. They went to bed, taking turns in the bathroom on the way, and despite his exhaustion he still made love to her, slowly and tenderly, until she fell apart in his arms.

  They slept till dawn, their bodies tangled together, and then made love again. Afterwards she lay sprawled half over him, her head pillowed on his chest, and thought that nothing could make her happier.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true, but she was as close as she was going to get.

  Sadly she traced a little whorl of hair on his chest with her fingertip. ‘Rob?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I’m so, so sorry I can’t give you a baby,’ she said quietly.

  He was motionless for a fraction of a second, then his arms tightened and he cradled her closer against his chest, one hand soothing rhythmically against her spine.

  ‘Don’t be. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care any more. I don’t know if I ever did, except for you. I don’t need a baby. I just need you.’

  ‘I’ll have tests, if you want.’

  He shook his head. ‘Only if you want. Like I said, I don’t care. It’s not what matters. I know that now. We’ll do whatever you want—whatever you need.’

  He kissed her gently, and she curled into his arms and let him hold her. It felt so good.

  She wondered if they’d ever have a child. It would have been nice, but as he said, it didn’t matter. Nearly losing him had shown her that, and she was glad in a way that they’d gone through the heart searching and agony of the past few weeks. It would make their marriage stronger as a result, she was sure, and that could only be a good thing.

  ‘We ought to get up,’ she said eventually. ‘The poor dogs need their breakfast and a walk, and we’ve got a long way to go.’

  ‘We don’t have to hurry,’ he told her. ‘We can do it in two days.’

  ‘What about the dogs?’

  ‘We’ll find a little hotel that takes dogs—a guest house or something.’

  ‘Or we could just get up and go,’ she suggested hopefully. ‘My car’s packed, all I have to do is strip the bed, pack my wash things and the last bits in the kitchen, put the dogs in the car and leave.’

  He looked up at her. ‘Do you really want that car?’

  She stared back at him in surprise. ‘Well—no, not really, I don’t suppose, unless you’ve sold mine.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, of course not. And your BMW’s an estate, so it’ll do for the dogs. I just thought, if you don’t want the Ford, we could sell it to a garage up here to save you having to drive all the way back. If everything goes in your car, it’ll certainly go in mine, and if we share the driving we can do it easily in one day.’

  ‘It would be nice to get home,’ she said, thinking of her garden and how all the plants must be coming up. It was March now, and spring would have sprung, or started to, at least. She wondered what Minstrel would make of it, and thought she’d probably love it. She’d be in the little lake with Midas in no time flat.

  ‘And what about this place?’ Rob asked. ‘Do you mind leaving it?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not really. It’s been lovely, the time we’ve had together here, but it isn’t really real, is it?’

  She could feel his smile against her temple. ‘Not really, no.’

  ‘Anyway, it’s only rented and they might not want to sell it. Why don’t we just drop the key into the agent on the way through Inverness and settle up the bill?’

  ‘Good idea,’ he murmured, and gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Last one in the bathroom’s a sissy,’ he said, and flicked back the quilt.

  She laughed. ‘You go. I’ll strip the bed. If we go in there together we’ll just get distracted.’

  He grinned. ‘You read my mind, you hussy.’

  She swatted at him with one of the pillowcases. ‘Go on, hurry up. I want to go home.’

  It was a long day. By the time they turned onto the lane that led to their house, she was wilting. She’d driven for a little way in the middle of the day, but only long enough for Rob to have a quick snooze beside her, and then he’d woken up again, stretched and yawned and thrown her a grin, and she’d pulled over at the next services for a late lunch and they’d swapped again.

  Now, though, she was wide awake. It was dark as they turned onto the drive, but the lights came on automatically as they drove up and she could see the daffodils lining the drive, their pale gold heads nodding a welcome as they passed.

  Things were greening up; the shrubs were in bud, and everything in the garden was way ahead of Scotland, as she’d known it would be. When Rob drew the car to a halt and she opened the door to get out, she could feel why instantly. It was warmer, much warmer, mild and welcoming, and she could smell new-mown grass in the night air.

  She could hear traffic in the distance, extraordinarily intrusive after the silence of Scotland, and yet somehow comforting. Home, she thought, breathing in the mild air and sighing with relief.

  She wasn’t the only one who was relieved. Rob had opened the tailgate, and the dogs were running round, noses down, and Midas looked ecstatic. He rushed from place to place, Minstrel in hot pursuit, sniffing every blade of grass, every shrub, everything in the wide sweep of the front garden while Rob stood there with his arm round her and they watched them contentedly. Finally they came back to her call, tongues lolling, and looked expectantly from Rob to Laurie.

  ‘I think they’d like supper,’ Laurie said with a smile.

  ‘What about you? Want me to get something in for us?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I just want a nice cup of tea and time to get settled in again. It feels so odd to be home, and yet so good.’

  She turned to him and reached up, drawing him down and kissing him lingeringly. ‘Thank you for coming to get me. I was so afraid you wouldn’t want me back.’

  ‘Why would I not want you back?’ he asked with a wry smile. ‘It was me that was the idiot.’ His voice was light, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

  ‘We won’t argue about it,’ she said. ‘Dogs, come on
, let’s go inside.’

  It seemed oddly unfamiliar. Huge, for a start. The hall was vast and echoing, the kitchen a cavern, the drawing room and dining room seemed far too big and grand for normal functioning. The morning room was a little formal, the study too masculine.

  The breakfast room was the only room she felt right in, and she headed for it, Rob and the dogs in train.

  ‘This is a lovely room,’ she told him. ‘We don’t use it nearly enough. We ought to have a sofa in here for the dogs and us to curl up on.’

  He raised a brow and laughed softly. ‘Just one sofa? For all of us?’

  She shrugged and grinned. ‘It would be cosy. You could keep me company while I cook.’

  ‘Do what you like. Whatever makes you happy—whatever will make you stay.’

  There was a trace of vulnerability in his voice, and she put her arms round him and hugged him again. ‘I’m staying,’ she told him firmly. ‘Whatever happens in the future, I’m staying—unless you want me to go. Even then, I ought to warn you, I won’t go without a fight.’

  His arms tightened round her. ‘Good. Now why don’t you put your feet up and I’ll feed the dogs and make you a cup of tea.’

  ‘No sofa.’

  ‘Go in the drawing room.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m fine here.’

  She sat down at the table, close enough to watch him as he pottered about the kitchen feeding the dogs, putting the kettle on, emptying the dishwasher. Homely, domestic things she’d hardly ever seen him do. She wondered how long it would last.

  Weeks? Months? Years?

  Maybe. He’d seemed sincere enough.

  She felt exhausted. A sofa would be the first thing she’d buy, not new, but an old comfy second-hand one, already broken in and a bit down-at-heel so nobody had to feel precious about it.

  ‘I’ll get the stuff in from the car,’ he said, but she shook her head.

  ‘Not tonight,’ she said, too tired to face the thought of all that unpacking. ‘I only need that little bag I put in this morning. Everything else can keep—oh, except the two dog beds. We’ll need them.’

  He nodded and disappeared, coming back through the utility room laden with things. He must have put the car in the garage, she thought, her brain struggling to analyse everything and failing. Heavens, she was exhausted.