Christmas Eve: Doorstep Delivery

by Sarah Morgan

  The icy wind blew a flurry of snow around her ankles and Patrick noticed that the bottoms of her jeans were as wet as her coat.

  ‘You’re wet—shivering.’ The doctor in him suddenly felt concern but she shrugged it off.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Avoiding his gaze, she dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a shiny pink phone. ‘Go back in the warm. I’m sorry I can’t help you out with those kittens. I’ll just call a cab and I’ll be out of your way.’

  She thought he was just going to let her go?

  Did she think he was the sort of man who would let a pregnant woman walk away in the depth of winter?

  Feeling the familiar weight of responsibility, Patrick decided that the first thing he needed to do was get her inside quickly, before she became any colder.

  Hypothermia wasn’t a good state for anyone, let alone a pregnant woman.

  ‘Dad?’ Alfie nudged him. ‘It’s really bad manners to keep someone on the doorstep! You taught me that.’

  ‘Yes. Hayley, please come inside.’ Without giving her the opportunity to object, he stepped forward and picked up her small suitcase. ‘We can talk about it in the warm. It’s freezing out here and it’s snowing again. And you’re wet.’

  ‘I’m only a little damp.’ Her teeth were chattering. ‘Nothing that won’t dry.’

  ‘Nothing is going to dry out here.’ He watched with mounting exasperation as fresh snowflakes settled on her hair. ‘Come in. Please.’ He could see her backing off and his mouth tightened. Doubtless, now that the moment was here, she was dreading having to tell him her news.

  ‘I’ll call a taxi.’

  ‘Hayley, it’s Christmas Eve. You’re in the Lake District, not London. There won’t be that many taxis around, and they won’t be driving out here.’

  ‘Jack only dropped me twenty minutes ago. I’m sure he’ll be happy to turn round and pick me up again.’

  ‘Jack?’ Her suitcase still in his hand, Patrick frowned. ‘Who is Jack?’

  ‘The taxi driver.’

  ‘You’re on first-name terms with the taxi driver?’

  ‘He was a nice guy.’

  ‘Right.’ He’d forgotten how friendly she was. And yet hadn’t it been her warmth and humanity that had attracted him to her that day at the hospital in Chicago? She’d had a smile and a greeting for every person they’d passed. ‘Well, Jack has probably gone home to his family by now. Come inside, at least while we decide what to do.’

  He didn’t blame her for being wary of him. He’d hardly given her a warm welcome, had he?

  ‘Please.’ Alfie slipped his hand into hers. ‘Come and see my kittens. And I can show you the presents under the tree.’

  Hayley murmured another refusal but Alfie gave her hand a determined tug and she stepped over the threshold of the barn, as cautious as a deer sensing danger. ‘Just for a moment. Then I’m calling a cab.’

  Patrick put her cases down and closed the door on the cold. ‘I’ll make a hot drink while we decide what to do. Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?’ Was she nauseous? No, she couldn’t possibly be nauseous. It was too early.

  ‘Tea, please.’ Her tone was polite and she seemed to be making a point of not looking at him. ‘Tea was the thing I missed most. It just doesn’t taste the same in America.’

  ‘You’ve come from America?’ Alfie’s eyes were round. ‘My dad went to America a few weeks ago. He had an interview for a job, but he didn’t like it.’

  Patrick closed his eyes briefly. This was her chance to drop him in it but she merely smiled at Alfie, her cheeks dimpling prettily.

  ‘Is that right? Well, you live in a beautiful place and I can quite see why he wouldn’t want to leave it. After all, he has family here.’ Her eyes slid to Patrick’s and he saw the accusation in her gaze. ‘A lovely family.’

  Alfie opened the cake tin and helped himself to a brownie, oblivious to the sudden tension between the two adults. ‘Are you American?’

  ‘No.’ Her smile didn’t slip. ‘I’m English.’

  ‘Then why were you working in America?’

  Her hesitation was so brief it was barely noticeable. ‘I wanted a change. A fresh start. So a year ago I took a job there.’

  ‘Why did you need a change?’

  ‘Alfie!’ Patrick’s tone was sharp and he turned away to fill the kettle, still trying to work out how he was going to engineer privacy so that they could have the necessary grown-up conversation. ‘It’s rude to ask so many questions.’

  ‘It’s all right. I’m not big on secrets.’ Her swift, pointed glance in his direction was another accusation. ‘I wanted to do something completely different, Alfie, to prove to myself that I could. Sometimes when people have knocked your confidence, you start to see yourself the way they see you. Then it’s good to get away from everyone and see what you can do when you haven’t got people waiting for you to make a mistake.’

  ‘Someone was waiting for you to make a mistake?’ Alfie’s horrified expression reflected Patrick’s own thoughts.

  ‘Who?’ He barked the question angrily and then saw Alfie’s startled look and frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Dad, you look really mad.’

  ‘I’m not mad,’ he lied. ‘I just…’ He gestured with his hand. ‘I mean, Alfie and I would both—we’d like to know who undermined your confidence.’

  Hayley was looking at him as if he was slightly mad and he didn’t blame her. The strength of his reaction had shocked him, too.

  ‘That doesn’t really matter,’ she said faintly, turning her attention back to Alfie. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, I wanted to prove myself so I took a job in this big, fantastic hospital in Chicago.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘I’ve seen Chicago on television.’

  ‘Right. Well, I’d never even been to America before. I didn’t know anyone and at first it was hard—strange…’ She frowned slightly. ‘But then I settled down and it felt good. I love midwifery.’

  ‘You’re a midwife?’ Alfie gave a gasp. ‘Dad, did you hear that? Hayley is a midwife!’

  Patrick ran his hand over the back of his neck. Alfie was a bright boy and any moment now he was going to put two and two together. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with his son’s maths. ‘That’s…great.’

  ‘My Dad’s an obstetrician,’ Alfie said proudly. ‘You guys can talk about babies if you like. I don’t mind.’

  Patrick winced. He had a feeling that the subject of babies was going to be right at the top of their list of conversation topics.

  What were her plans?

  Was she upset about being pregnant?

  Was that why she kept sending him angry looks?

  ‘Tell her she has to stay, Dad.’

  Patrick made two mugs of tea. If she was pregnant then she’d be staying a long time. Was that what she wanted? Was that what he wanted?

  No. Definitely not. A baby was not a reason to get married. He’d learned that the hard way. There were other ways of being responsible. ‘Hayley and I need to talk in private, Alfie.’ He decided that there was no point in postponing the inevitable. ‘I’d like you to take Posy and go and watch a cartoon or something.’

  ‘I’ve seen all the cartoons on television.’ Alfie didn’t budge. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. And Hayley doesn’t have anywhere else to go because she thought she was going to be living here. We’ve got plenty of space—I don’t understand why you want her to go.’

  Because he felt suffocated, trapped—back in the same place he’d been before. Patrick looked at his son—the son he was going to hurt—his mind already racing forward, planning how he was going to break the news that there was going to be another child in their family. ‘It’s complicated, Alfie.’

  ‘You’re making me feel bad because this is all my fault!’ The child’s eyes shone with tears. ‘I didn’t know it was going to turn out like this. I thought you’d be really grateful that you didn’t have to cook the turkey by yourself. I was just trying to help!’ Bursting into tears, he stormed out
of the room and Posy ran after him, trailing her velvet comforter behind her.

  Hayley made a distressed sound. ‘Go after him.’ Troubled, she turned to Patrick. ‘Just go after him. I’ll call myself a taxi and sort something out. I shouldn’t have come.’ Her phone was in her hand again and Patrick walked over to her.

  ‘Wait—put the phone away, Hayley…’ The scent of her hair wound itself around his senses and his eyes dropped to her mouth, everything he’d been intending to say evaporating from his mind. A rush of heat poured through his body and he knew he had to get to the point before he did something that complicated matters even further. ‘Tell me why you’re here.’

  ‘Because everyone does stupid things at least once in their life and this was my moment,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t worry about it. Go to your child, Patrick.’

  Don’t worry about it?

  ‘Alfie will be all right for a minute,’ he said roughly. ‘We have things to talk about.’ Even while his brain was warning him that this was a big mistake, his body was reacting to her presence. He wanted to slide his hands into her damp, silky hair—he wanted to press his mouth to those rosy lips.

  Reminding himself that those impulses were the reason he was in his current mess, Patrick ruthlessly reined in his baser instincts. ‘You came over here to see me, and…I know it’s difficult, but just tell me the truth. Tell me whatever it is you came to tell me.’

  She must be dreading telling him—afraid of his reaction.

  And he braced himself not to overreact, reminding himself that this must have been hard for her. She must be worried sick.

  But even while he was acknowledging her emotions, he was even more acutely aware of his own. He was angry with himself. And frustrated. And fiercely determined that this time he was going to do the right thing. And that was not going to include marriage.

  ‘I didn’t come here to tell you anything. I just thought it was time for a change and I might as well…’ Her voice tailed off and she blushed scarlet. ‘All right, yes. I came to find you. Could you stop looking at me like that? This is embarrassing enough without you studying me as though you’re a prosecution lawyer or something.’ Her whole body was shivering and Patrick sighed and grabbed his heavy coat from the back of the door. He peeled off her damp coat in a decisive movement and placed the dry one around her shoulders. It swamped her, of course, because she was so much smaller than he was, and that evidence of her vulnerability pricked his conscience.

  ‘I understand that this is difficult—’ he fought back the urge to just demand the truth ‘—but you obviously have something to say to me and I really think it would be better for both of us if you just came right out and said it.’

  He wanted to know what he was dealing with. They needed to talk dates, make plans—preferably before his children lost interest in television.

  ‘All right. I’ll say it.’ She looked up at him, her dark hair falling in damp curls over his coat, a spark in her eyes. ‘I think you’re quite possibly the biggest snake and the most horribly insensitive man I’ve ever met.

  Stunned, Patrick stared at her. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I said you’re a snake. And horribly insensitive. And you’re a hypocrite, of course.’ She seemed to gain confidence as she talked. ‘And two-faced because you’re pretending to be such a great father but you’re obviously sleeping with every woman who takes your fancy even if her lipstick is hideous, which means you also don’t have much taste and that makes it even worse—’

  ‘Hayley—’

  ‘And you may be seriously good-looking and have a fit body—a very fit body, actually…’ her eyes slid to his shoulders before she looked away quickly ‘…and be super-intelligent, and obviously quite staggeringly talented in bed, but that doesn’t mean you can just abandon morals and common decency and—’

  ‘Hayley—’

  ‘And I don’t think a rampant sex drive is an excuse, and the worse thing is you’re a liar because you didn’t once mention your children or the fact that you’re married, and—’

  ‘Hayley, I’m divorced.’

  ‘If you really didn’t—’ She broke off and stared at him. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I’m divorced.’ Patrick spoke the words quietly. ‘My wife and I separated two years ago. I haven’t seen her since then. And you need to breathe before you pass out.’

  ‘You—I…’ Her voice cracked. ‘You’re divorced?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you say so? Why didn’t you tell me that night?’

  ‘It didn’t seem relevant.’

  Hayley rolled her eyes. ‘Only a man would think that wasn’t relevant. Of course it’s relevant! What about your children? Did you forget about them, or were they irrelevant too?’

  ‘My children had nothing to do with the night we spent together.’

  Her mouth fell open. ‘You see? That’s what I mean. You come across as this really caring guy—a bit macho perhaps, but basically caring—and then you go and deny your children!’

  ‘I’m not denying my children,’ Patrick said patiently. ‘I’m saying they had no relevance to the night we spent together.’

  ‘You mean you conveniently forgot them.’ Her breathing rapid, she stroked her hair away from her face. ‘Well, at least you’re divorced. That’s one thing to be grateful for.’ Realising what she’d said, she blushed scarlet and shrank slightly. ‘Sorry, sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant to say was—obviously it’s not good that you’re divorced, but I’m relieved to know you’re not married.’

  Patrick stilled, his radar on full alert and screaming a warning. ‘Why would you be relieved?’ His tone was several shades cooler as he contemplated the gulf between her expectations and his. ‘Because now you know I’m available?’

  She looked at him as though he was mentally incapacitated. ‘No. Because I don’t have affairs with married men, of course.’

  ‘Right. Of course.’ She sounded so affronted that he wanted to smile, and it occurred to him that this woman continually surprised him. He was trying to adjust his expectations when he realised that she was glaring at him.

  ‘Are you laughing at me?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Good, because I don’t see anything to laugh about.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Reminded of the reason she was here, Patrick’s desire to smile faded instantly. ‘Can I talk now?’

  She stood stiffly. ‘Of course. Go ahead.’

  Patrick rested his hips against the kitchen table, wishing he could switch off the urge to take her straight to bed. ‘First—I’m sorry if I was insensitive. It was a shock to see you on the doorstep and I accept that I probably didn’t handle that as well as I could have done.’

  ‘If you’d—’

  He leaned forwards and pressed his fingers against her lips. ‘It’s my turn to talk, Hayley,’ he drawled softly, watching as her eyes widened. Her lips softened and parted against his fingers and he removed his hand, wishing he’d found some other less erotic way of silencing her. ‘Let me finish.’

  The tip of her tongue traced her lips where his fingers had been a moment before and it took Patrick a moment to remember what he’d been planning to say.

  ‘I’m not a hypocrite. I try and be a good father, although I’m sure I fall short of that ambition fairly frequently, and, despite the evidence to the contrary, which I admit in your case is incontrovertible, I am not sleeping with every woman who crosses my path. And while I’m flattered that you think I’m good-looking and you like my body—’

  ‘I didn’t exactly mean to say that bit out loud,’ she muttered, and Patrick gave a faint smile and continued.

  ‘I can assure you that I have not abandoned morals and common decency.’ He watched as her smooth cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink. ‘Neither have I ever lied to you.’

  ‘Maybe not directly. But you didn’t mention your children.’ She looked tired, disillusioned and younger than he remembered, and for some reason
she reminded Patrick of the young single mothers he sometimes saw in the antenatal clinic. Occasionally they were excited, but often they were overwhelmed and daunted by the enormity of it all.

  He felt a twinge of guilt.

  She was probably worrying about being alone and pregnant and she had no idea how to bring up the subject.

  Instinctively he took charge of the situation.

  ‘Hayley, I didn’t mention the children because we had other things on our minds. Which brings us neatly to the reason for your visit.’ Deciding to make it as easy as possible for her, he turned briefly to make sure the kitchen door was shut. ‘I’m sure you’re feeling really mixed up about the whole thing. I’m sure it’s come as a shock. I’m sure you’re scared.’ Were there any other emotions he’d missed? She’d called him insensitive and he was doing his best to be as sensitive as possible. ‘But I don’t want you to be scared. I take full responsibility. It was my fault. To be honest, I don’t understand how it happened because I thought I’d protected you, but we’ll work something out, I promise you that. You’re not on your own.’

  ‘Protected me?’

  In the circumstances he couldn’t blame her for sounding stunned. He hadn’t protected her, had he? Clearly something had failed that night. And she blamed him. She had every right to be angry.

  ‘As I said, I take full responsibility. But we need to talk about this calmly. We need to work out a solution together.’

  ‘What are you taking responsibility for? It was my decision to come here. You had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘But I’m glad you came.’

  ‘Are you?’ Her voice faltered and she looked at him carefully. ‘Really? I thought I’d made things awkward for you by coming.’

  ‘Well, obviously it’s a shock.’ He wasn’t going to tell her just how much of a shock. She obviously needed reassurance that he wasn’t going to overreact. ‘But we’ll work something out. Let’s start with the practicalities. You’re sure you’re pregnant? It’s pretty early on. There’s no mistake about that?’

  ‘Pregnant?’ The word seemed to echo around the kitchen and Patrick winced, hoping that Alfie wasn’t listening outside the door.