Twins For Christmas

by Alison Roberts

  ‘Are you all right?’ Kate asked as they got closer.

  The girl nodded. Then shook her head. ‘I can’t see the boys and I’m supposed to be looking after them.’

  ‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’

  ‘Lucy.’

  ‘And how old are you?’

  ‘I’m eleven.’ Lucy was looking past Kate now. ‘Are you a doctor?’ she asked Rory.

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Did you…? Is…?’ Lucy’s inward breath was a gulp. ‘We saw Michael being taken away and…’

  Her face crumpled. The face of the smaller girl, who had been staring upwards, was like a mirror. Both girls burst into tears simultaneously.

  Kate’s gaze flicked automatically to Rory. Would she see the man she’d fallen in love with so long ago?

  Yes. Her breath escaped in a sigh of what felt like relief as she saw the softening in his face. The compassion that had always made him go the extra mile for any young patient.

  He bent down and scooped up the smaller girl. He put his free arm around Lucy.

  ‘Come with me,’ he directed, drawing them back into the cubicle. He sat on the bed and patted the space beside him, and without hesitation Lucy climbed up to sit beside him.

  ‘Michael got hurt in the crash,’ he said quietly. ‘And he was very sick for a while.’

  Lucy nodded, tears streaming down her face. ‘I know. He…he couldn’t breathe properly. I saw them with the football thing.’

  ‘That’s called a bag mask,’ Rory said in the same calm tone. ‘It’s scary, but it’s very useful. All it does is collect air inside the football bit, and when you squeeze it, it helps people to breathe when they can’t manage very well on their own.’

  ‘Did it help Michael?’ Lucy had inched closer, her gaze glued on Rory’s face.

  ‘Yes, it did. But then we had to do some more to help him. He needed a little tube inside his throat to make sure the air could get where it was supposed to be.’

  A glance towards Kate included her in this inter change. Gave them that link again of knowing things no one around them could know. Kate could feel her own gaze softening this time. Acknowledging the simplification of what had been a major intervention. That tiny gap between life and death and the battle that had been fought. And won.

  Lucy accepted the explanation. It was almost all she needed. ‘Why?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Sometimes when things get bumped they can break or bleed, and if that’s happening in the spaces where air is supposed to be, it makes people very sick.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘He’s gone to have an operation. To fix any broken bits and to make sure nothing’s bleeding inside.’

  ‘Will he be all right?’

  Rory was as focussed on Lucy as the girl was on him. His arms were still around the smaller girl, who had put her thumb into her mouth and was leaning back, looking up, as though she was also listening and finding reassurance in his words.

  Kate was watching, too. So captured by this scene she hadn’t even thought of moving. It was no surprise when she found a small boy by her side. And then another on the other side. Rory had always drawn people towards him. Especially children. Her hands seemed to find their hands without any conscious effort and they stood in a little row. Hand in hand.

  Watching. Listening. Holding their breath as they waited for the verdict on Michael to be delivered.

  The children on either side of her wouldn’t be seeing what Kate saw. A man who respected children enough to be as honest as their level of understanding allowed. Someone so sincere they instinctively trusted him. Did he know he won that trust so easily? Was that why he’d always been so honest with them?

  This was the man Kate had come to love so much. Not the brilliant physician or the fun-loving party animal. Not even the gorgeous poster boy with the perfect look for a model young doctor. He could have been short and dumpy and bald and she would still have loved him for the way he cared so much.

  ‘Michael’s still very sick,’ he told his small audience gravely. ‘But there are lots of people who are working very hard to try and make him better. Our job is to be brave while we wait and to look after each other. Can you do that?’

  Lucy nodded slowly. ‘But what about Aunty Mary?’

  ‘I’ll go and find out for you.’

  ‘She had a sore nose,’ one of the boys beside Kate piped up. ‘I saw lots of blood.’

  ‘I saw more than you did, Alex,’ the other boy said. ‘I got some on my shirt—see?’

  The small girl pulled her thumb from her mouth. ‘I want to go home,’ she informed Rory.

  ‘What’s your name, poppet?’

  ‘Nicola.’

  ‘And you don’t have anything that’s sore?’

  A small blonde head shook vigorously. ‘We have to go home,’ she said with considerable urgency. ‘Josie’s having her baby.’

  Rory’s eyebrows rose and his tone evinced surprise. ‘Is she?’

  Lucy scrubbed at her face. ‘She might be having her baby,’ she said, with all the authority of being the eldest. She gave Rory a look that put them on an equal footing in the authority stakes. ‘She’s late,’ she explained. ‘Aunty Mary says she can’t for the life of her understand why she hasn’t had her baby already, but maybe it’s because it’s Christmas and she wants it to be a present for us all.’

  Rory nodded, but the glance he sent Kate held a distinct edge of concern. ‘And Josie’s at home? All by herself?’

  ‘In the stable,’ the boy called Alex confirmed.

  ‘That’s where she lives,’ the other boy added.

  Kate could see Rory relax. She saw the beginnings of a smile that made her grip the small hands within hers a little more tightly.

  ‘And Josie is…?’

  ‘Our donkey,’ the children chorused.

  ‘Her real name’s Josephine,’ Lucy said. ‘Because of—you know—donkeys and Christmas and stuff. Mary was riding a donkey because—’

  ‘Not Aunty Mary,’ Alex interrupted. ‘The Mary in the story.’

  ‘Shut up, Alex,’ the other boy said.

  ‘No, you shut up, Rhys.’

  Lucy glared at them. ‘Mary was riding a donkey because she was too fat to walk to the stable.’

  ‘She was having a baby!’ Rhys crowed triumphantly.

  Alex leaned forward. He stared at Kate’s stomach and then up at her face.

  ‘You’re fat,’ he told her. ‘Are you having a baby?’

  Kate smiled. ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Ah…’ Kate caught Rory’s gaze, still smiling. How huge was that question?

  She was having a baby because of one amazing night. A night when she’d been needed by the man she loved as much as she had ever wanted to be needed. It had been her gift and it could never be something she would regret.

  Especially now, knowing that he’d remembered it. That it had been important.

  To her amazement, Rory smiled back at her. A real smile. The kind she remembered, but hadn’t seen for so, so long. And something inside Kate melted.

  Alex bounced up and down, trying to catch Rory’s attention. ‘Why?’ he demanded again.

  Rory cleared his throat. He didn’t take his eyes off Kate. ‘Sometimes it just happens, mate,’ he said cautiously. ‘And it’s a surprise. A really big surprise.’

  ‘I like surprises,’ Alex nodded. ‘’Specially at Christmas.’

  ‘Are you having a baby because it’s Christmas?’ Rhys asked. ‘Like Josie?’

  Nicola’s eyes were wide. ‘Is it a present?’

  Kate’s smile wobbled. ‘Kind of,’ she said. She was holding Rory’s gaze, talking to him, her voice quiet and sure. ‘It’s certainly a gift as far as I’m concerned. Something very special.’

  ‘We’ve got presents,’ Alex told her.

  ‘Not any more,’ Rhys said sadly. ‘They’re in the bus, remember? They’ll be all mushed up.’

  ‘I want t
o go home,’ Nicola said in a small voice. ‘And I want to see the presents under our tree.’

  ‘We could ask that Santa.’ Alex was leaning around Kate so he could talk to Rhys. ‘Did you see him?’

  ‘I didn’t like him,’ Rhys said worriedly. ‘He sounds cross.’

  Their anxiety level was increasing. Rory eased him self from the bed, gently disentangling the small arms that wound themselves around his neck.

  ‘He’s not the real Santa,’ he told the children. ‘He’s just dressing up like one. Kate and I are going to find out what’s happened to those presents,’ he promised. ‘And about Aunty Mary and everybody else. And then I’m going to find a nurse who can get you all something to eat. Who likes ice cream?’

  ‘Meee!’ The combination of several enthusiastic voices made the word into a verbal bomb.

  Judy appeared as if by magic. ‘What’s going on in here?’

  ‘We need ice cream,’ Rory told her seriously. ‘It’s an emergency.’

  Judy grinned. ‘I’ll see what I can find in the freezer. Are you going to see Florence?’

  ‘We’re almost there.’ Kate lifted the edge of the neighbouring curtain and was horrified to see the woman with the bandaged head sobbing silently.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she gasped, rushing to the head of the bed. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I was listening…’ Florence caught her breath and gave an enormous sniff. Then a tremulous smile. ‘What a lovely man that doctor is.’

  ‘Yes.’ Kate knew perfectly well that Rory had left his following with Judy and was now standing right behind her. ‘I think so, too.’

  RORY LEFT KATE TO in filtrate the impressive laceration on Florence’s forehead with local anaesthetic and then clean the wound thoroughly.

  ‘I want to check on my mother,’ he’d said.

  ‘We’re fine,’ Kate assured him. ‘I’ll let you know when we’re ready for suturing.’

  He’d only been telling half the truth. Of course he wanted to check on his mother, but he also needed the comparatively private space of her cubicle.

  Amazingly, given the noise level, with only the curtain for a screen, Marcella was fast asleep. Her face had lost some of the redness that had been due to her high fever and her skin felt much cooler and drier. Her pulse, while still erratic, felt stronger beneath his fingertips.

  Rory’s fingers trailed up from his mother’s wrist to touch the heavily bandaged splint that was protecting her IV line. She needed fluids to correct the dehydration her fever had brought, and antibiotics to fight the cause, but how sad was it that she had to be treated like a baby who might pull the line free at any time?

  Would she still be so distressingly agitated when she woke? Hopefully she would be back to her normal level of confusion, where she recognised nobody—including himself. Not that calling him by his twin’s name was due to recognition. How could it be, when Jamie had died at the age of seven?

  Michael’s age.

  The cry for her lost child was coming from her heart. It was a cry that had always been there, but it had been silent for twenty years. Until the anchor his father had provided had been lost with his death and his mother had simply allowed oblivion to take his place.

  She was—most of the time—in a peaceful state, and Rory prayed that she would be again when this illness was dealt with.

  Could he find such a state for himself?

  He thought he had. In a far corner of the world where no one knew him, where physical strength and sheer determination and guts were the only things a man was judged on.

  He hadn’t bar gained on revisiting the past like this.

  It was tempting to stay by Marcella’s side for longer than the time needed to check her condition. This was his first chance to get his head around what was happening tonight. Too manythings to know where to start, in fact.

  His conviction that he would never again put himself in a position where a child’s life was dependent on him had just been blown out of the water. And it had happened in the wake of being pulled back to the origin of his fear, thanks to both his mother’s presence and her confusion. But he’d done it. He’d coped. And part of him knew that he would have coped even if the outcome had not been a success—because Kate had been there.

  His touchstone.

  His angel.

  Who would have thought that the idea of her being pregnant by another man could have been so intensely painful? Had he really thought that she was some kind of saint? That she hadn’t had—or wouldn’t have—a relationship with another man? It wasn’t as if she’d had anything like a relationship with him anyway. It had been a one-off. Because she’d felt sorry for him.

  But she was carrying his baby.

  Babies, he corrected himself.

  And there was another conviction he’d had no intention of overturning. He’d never wanted to be a father. Why would he, when he’d lived through the dark side of what parental love could do? He’d always taken great care to ensure an accident would never happen, but he hadn’t taken care that night, had he? He’d been offered something he’d needed so badly he hadn’t stopped to think at all.

  Comfort.

  Kate hadn’t even known what she was comforting him for, which was a testament to his lifelong ability to disguise his demons no matter how much influence they might have in every choice he’d made. But Kate had found him at a point when he’d been as vulnerable and afraid as he’d been when he was seven years old.

  When he’d had to watch his brother die and know that it had been his fault.

  Rory drew in a breath that felt as if it was inflating his lungs for the first time. Painfully. He touched his mother’s forehead with a gentle finger and then turned away.

  Kate hadn’t known, but it hadn’t mattered because of who she was. She had given him the only thing that could have made a difference—her touch. The feeling of being loved. An affirmation of life. And she had done so with a sweetness and generosity that made his heartache every time he remembered it.

  She deserved better than what he’d given her in return. A shameful exit from her life. He hadn’t even said goodbye because he hadn’t been able to begin to explain where he was going. Or why.

  She should hate him, but clearly she didn’t. She had agreed with Florence, who thought he was ‘a lovely man’.

  And she thought her pregnancy was a gift.

  And it was twins. Why hadn’t that thought occurred to him when he was judging the duration of her pregnancy by her size?

  Because it was just too ironic?

  Fate had brought him in a very neat circle, here. Back to a place where he had to face his past and his future.

  And right in the middle was Kate.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘IT WASN’T HER FAULT, you know.’

  ‘What wasn’t, Florence?’ Kate lifted the dressing she had put over the wound on Florence’s head until Rory came back.

  ‘The accident. We came round a bend and there was this car stuck in the road. It had skidded into a truck coming the other way. Nobody was hurt, and they’d got out and were all walking around. Some children had started a snowball fight. Mary had to swerve or she would have hit one of those children.’

  ‘When did you last have a tetanus booster, Florence?’ Rory didn’t seem to be listening.

  ‘Oh, heavens—I can’t remember.’

  ‘We’ll need to give you another one, then. Kate?’

  ‘I’ve got one here.’

  His smile was brief but approving. The nod that followed was thoughtful. ‘Of course you have. You always were the best.’

  Kate tried to suppress the glow his words gave her. She had to remind herself that he’d always treated everybody like that. Made them feel special. Brought out the best in their performance. It didn’t mean anything. Or rather it didn’t mean what she’d like it to mean.

  ‘We weren’t even going fast.’ Florence was apparently distracting herself from the way Rory was probing at her wound. ‘Ma
ry had been worried about the weather before we even left the Castle. She wouldn’t have gone out at all if it hadn’t been for the Christmas party, and she made us leave early. She knew she could handle the road if we took it slowly, and she drives that bus like a professional. Well, she would, wouldn’t she, when she’s been doing it for nearly forty years?’

  ‘What made her start?’ Kate was happy to let Florence cope by talking. ‘Looking after children, I mean?’

  ‘She lost her own.’ Florence clicked her tongue and sighed sympathetically. ‘Her whole family. Husband and two little girls. He’d taken them up for a ride in his new plane. He ran into trouble and then got tangled up in power lines when he tried to make an emergency landing.’

  ‘Mary must have been devastated.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Nearly destroyed her, I think. Though she never says much about it. I know it took years for her to want to face the world again, and she decided she would never marry or have any more children of her own. She says it was because there were too many out there already who needed help, but I reckon she just needed to fill a dreadful gap in her heart.’

  ‘She must be a very strong woman.’

  Something in Rory’s tone made Kate look up from where he was pushing a curved needle through one side of Florence’s impressive cut. She had always loved watching him when he was focussed like this, with that furrow in his forehead, the way his dark hair flopped down on one side—a perfect match for the tangle of unfairly luxuriant eyelashes. He’d often had that shadowing of stubble late at night, too.

  This was the first time she’d noticed it with the knowledge of how it felt against the smoothness of her own skin, however. Just as well her hands were occupied holding Florence’s head still, because the urge to reach out and touch that rough ened skin was almost irresistible.

  Was it the movement of one of her babies that sent such a delicious tingle right down to her toes? Kate sucked in a breath and dragged her gaze away from Rory’s chin. Back to that furrow in his brow which made her recall the note in his voice that had caught her attention in the first place.