The Doctor's Baby Surprise - An Accent Amour Medical Romance

by Gill Sanderson

  All that had been a lie. Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to cope with what she now knew. She loved Toby as much as she had ever done.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was her first conscious thought when Annie woke next morning. She loved Toby. She’d never stopped loving him. And now the uncertainty, the anxiety she had felt the night before was ebbing. She loved Toby. She had been fooling herself when she’d thought she could work with him and pretend that there was nothing between them. There was something there. The question was what did she do about it?

  She climbed out of bed, and as she set about preparing breakfast she cool-headedly considered her options. Perhaps, painful though it would be at first, she should get as far from him as possible. She could leave the clinic; ask to be moved back to ordinary duties. There were plenty of other SHOs who would like her place. At the end of her six months rotation, in another couple of months, she could even apply to another hospital. It wouldn’t be too long and she wouldn’t have to see much of him.

  Then she decided that no way was she going to run. She could bear being with him, she would bear being with him. Pictures of him flashed across her mind: Toby smiling at her; Toby leaning over a cot and tickling a baby’s face; Toby laughing among friends. Irresistible, commitment-shy, heartbreaker Toby. How could someone she felt so much for cause her so much misery?

  Then the thought of what he had said to her yesterday flashed across her mind. What was it… that he had made a mistake in finishing with her? That he thought that they might have had something going, and there had been a definite reason for their parting? Well, if that was true, she was entitled to know what it was and she intended to find out.

  Then she felt a touch of shame. She had a secret of her own that perhaps Toby was entitled to know. Too bad. She would start her campaign at once. Whatever Toby was keeping from her, she was going to know. She couldn’t just suffer.

  It was a typical morning at the clinic. They both had patients to see, work they both enjoyed. Both were hurrying as they met by accident in the corridor, just having time for a smile and a quick word. When she saw him coming towards her, her heart beat just a little more quickly than it should. And she realised that that instant reaction had never gone away. Every time she saw him she felt him, deep within her. She used to think it was nerves, now she knew it was more than that. It was just his presence.

  The usual beaming smile, but no time for a long chat. Just a typical Toby remark. ‘I’ve been administrating already,’ he proclaimed loftily, ‘making your life and mine much easier. The machine ran out of chocolate biscuits. I’ve contacted management and they’ve assured me that the machine will be resupplied at once.’

  She managed a response. Shaking her head, she said, ‘The place would fall to bits without you, Toby.’ Then she hurried to her treatment room.

  It was hard but she forced herself to work. She was not entitled to personal feelings while her patients had anxieties and problems of their own. She was a doctor.

  As usual, they met in the midmorning break. Usually there were just the two of them in the doctors’ room, she was relying on this. She arrived a little early, made the coffee and even bought him the requisite chocolate biscuit. She had decided there were things she needed to know and she wanted to make sure that he knew what she wanted. Expecting him, she was ready to start her inquisition. But there was still that feeling, that pang of desire, when he walked into the room.

  His coffee was poured, his biscuit ready. ‘Must be my birthday,’ he said, biting into the chocolate. ‘Anything interesting in this morning?’

  Now to start. ‘Nothing as interesting as yesterday,’ she told him. ‘I think you’re getting away with things, Toby. Yesterday, when we were stopped in the car, you told me that you thought you’d been kind to me. I didn’t quite agree. Well, don’t worry, I’m not going to go over all that again. As lovers we’re finished.’

  She lifted her coffee cup to her lips, hiding her face as she wondered how she could lie so easily. It wasn’t easy. She went on, ‘But I am interested in why you being kind should result in so much misery for me. I think I’m entitled to know.’

  For a moment she thought she’d got to him. He looked sad, started to speak several times and then stopped. But then his face looked blank and Annie, who now understood all his expressions, knew that he was not going to tell her anything. Or so he thought. He said, ‘Annie, we’re working well together now. I told you I was really sorry for what I did. Isn’t it better that we just forget things and—’

  There was a knock on the door and Eva, their receptionist, looked in and said, ‘Toby, there’s a woman at the desk, demanding to talk to you. Demanding to talk to you now.’

  ‘Ask her to have a seat and tell her I’ll be out in ten minutes.’

  The receptionist shook her head. ‘I’ve tried that but she gets hysterical. She says if you don’t talk to her she’ll scream the place down. I just don’t know what’s wrong with her. Quite an old lady too, and she does look a bit ill.’

  Toby sighed. ‘I’ll come and see what I can do,’ he said.

  Annie was annoyed. This was typical. Just when she wanted to carry on an argument, some woman came and interrupted her. And when Toby didn’t come straight back she grew more annoyed still.

  Toby felt troubled as he walked along the corridor behind Eva. He’d thought things between him and Annie had been working out quite well. He had hated hurting her and had hoped that they had started a new friendly relationship with the past left firmly behind. But that wasn’t good enough for her. She needed an explanation. Toby could sympathise—in her position he’d feel the same way. Should he tell her? For a moment he was tempted. Then he grimaced. Not a good idea. He knew Annie. She’d be angry at first. But then she’d want to help. And he didn’t need help. Now, who was this woman so determined to speak to him?

  He walked into the reception area.

  The woman was tall, aged about sixty, quite well dressed. Toby thought there was something in her face that he recognised. But he wasn’t sure what. In her face he could see signs of fear, of strain. He guessed recent heart trouble. But what was she doing in an obs and gynae clinic?

  ‘Dr Sinclair? This won’t take long. Shall we talk outside a moment?’

  The woman didn’t smile or hold out her hand. She was calm now, her glance indicating that she did not care to have their conversation overheard by the obviously curious Eva.

  Toby was curious himself now. He followed the woman to a dark-coloured classic sports car. She turned and said, ‘We haven’t met before. My name is Ursula de Sangrail. I am—or was—your mother-in-law.’

  Toby gazed at her, his thoughts spinning wildly before he was able to speak. ‘What can I do for you, Mrs de Sangrail?’ he managed.

  ‘You heard from our solicitors of the tragic death of my daughter—your ex-wife?’

  ‘I did. A letter with exactly five lines in it.’ Toby struggled a bit and then said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Quite so. But Gail’s death leaves us with a problem. I have been having problems myself—I have angina and, of course, this made things much worse. My doctors advise me that I must avoid all stress. I’m thinking of going on a cruise—one suitable to people in my state.’

  Toby felt a sense of unreality growing inside him. ‘A cruise might be a good idea,’ he said. ‘Why does it concern me?’

  ‘This is what concerns you.’ The woman moved to one side, unlocked the car door. Toby peered in. The back and front seats were piled with boxes, cases, assorted other gear. In the middle of the back seat there was a child’s car seat. And in that seat was a child.

  ‘Your son: Charlie,’ the woman said.

  ‘What?’ Toby grasped the car door for support and stared at the woman.

  ‘This is your son: Charlie. To be exact, Charles Adam Sinclair. Gail gave him your name to save herself trouble.’

  ‘But… that’s impossible! Gail wasn’t even pregnant and we alw
ays—’

  ‘Gail certainly was pregnant. She might not have told you, but she gave birth five months after you divorced.’ Mrs de Sangrail waved her hand at a package in the car. ‘I was anticipating this reaction from you. There are all sorts of medical details in there, including the baby’s DNA. Have it checked against your own DNA. He’s certainly your son.’

  ‘So Gail had to check, did she?’ Toby asked bitterly. ‘I might have guessed.’

  For a moment he was silent, looked around at the sky, the distant buildings of the hospital, he watched a couple of nurses hurrying along a path. Not ten minutes ago his life had been calm, serene; he had been happy. And now…

  ‘So what are your plans for my… my son?’ he said eventually, his words sounding fuzzy and indistinct in his ears.

  ‘I’m leaving him here with you. You are his father. I’m not well enough to look after him.’ Ursula stared at him fiercely. ‘You must accept your responsibilities. If you don’t—or won’t—I’ll have no choice but to arrange for him to be taken into care.’

  Toby leaned into the car, peered at the small sleeping face. His son?

  ‘Help me get everything out of the car,’ Mrs de Sangrail said. Then, for the first time since she’d come charging into his life, she looked sad, uncertain, her eyes pleading with Toby to understand, despite everything that had happened. ‘I’m too old to be a mother again. Charlie needs you, Dr Sinclair: his father.’

  It was fifteen minutes before Toby returned. He had on that blank, bland expression that Annie knew so well and disliked so much. By this time she was enraged. Sarcastically, she said, ‘It must be tough, being you. I’m surprised you have time to get any work done, the number of disturbed women hanging round you. Don’t you ever get tired of it all?’

  His face went white. ‘If you knew what you were talking about, you might not be so ready to pass judgement. I’m taking the rest of the day off.’ He turned and slammed out of the door.

  Annie looked after him, open-mouthed. Something must have really upset him. Had she upset him or this other woman? Time might tell what was wrong. But in the meantime she had just one patient left. But, even as she carefully listened to her patient’s troubles, she wondered what had happened.

  At the end of the day, Annie was finishing her paperwork when the phone rang.

  ‘Annie, it’s Toby. Look, I’m sorry I shouted at you. I know what you said was a joke, and I suppose a joke I deserve. But… ’ His voice trailed away.

  This wasn’t the man she knew. ‘Toby, is something wrong?’ Now she was concerned.

  ‘You could say that. Annie, could you come round and see me after work?’

  This was unusual. ‘I suppose I could. Why?’

  ‘Something’s happened and I don’t know what to do. Could you just come over?’

  He sounded desperate, Annie thought. She’d never heard him sound like this before. For a moment she wondered if he was playing some kind of complicated smart trick on her, but that just wasn’t Toby. In some ways he was very honest. But still… ‘Come to your flat? Just for a talk?’

  His laugh was painful. ‘I know what you’re thinking but it’s not that at all. It has to be my flat. You’ll see why when you get there.’

  By now she was intrigued. ‘I could be there about seven,’ she said. ‘Will that do?’

  ‘I guess that would be fine. Thanks, Annie. I really appreciate this.’ And he hung up.

  Annie found it hard to concentrate. What could Toby possibly want with her? What was so important? Was it to talk about their relationship? Somehow she didn’t think so. But she’d go and offer him what advice he needed. And after that it would be her turn for some answers.

  His flat door was ajar. So she rang the bell, then stepped into the tiny hall and shouted his name. He shouted back. ‘Come in, Annie, and shut the door.’ Not like Toby. Normally he would have come out to greet her—he was always courteous that way.

  And she heard something else: a wailing sound, almost like a baby. Odd. Maybe it came from a neighbour’s flat

  She had been to his place before. In fact, she had made love with him there. And when she entered the hall she felt a great surge of memory, of the joy they had brought each other there. Pity it had ended.

  She walked into the living room.

  The flat was smaller than hers. His attitude to home was like his attitude to clothes. He liked to be neat, tidy, but a bit exciting. She would never have painted her living room walls red, but it certainly worked for Toby. She always took pleasure in glancing at the pictures on his wall too. Good reproductions of Impressionists and…

  What was this? Eyes, mouth, opened in incredulity. The normally neat room was filled with cases and boxes, most opened and their contents spilling out. And there was Toby. His hair was more tousled than ever, his face harassed, a towel wrapped round his waist. He was standing behind the living room table. To one side of the table was a pile of towels, a pile of clothes, and bowl of water. In the middle of the table was a changing mat, and on the mat was a naked baby. Toby was holding the baby’s feet in one hand, dabbing ineffectually at the baby’s bottom with a flannel in the other hand. The baby started to cry.

  ‘This is a lot harder than it looks,’ Toby said, managing a smile. ‘Some people make it seem so easy.’

  Annie just stared, so he continued.

  ‘Meet Charles Adam Sinclair. My son.’

  Annie looked at him, appalled. ‘You didn’t tell me you had a child!’

  ‘I didn’t know myself until this morning.’ Toby turned, and his elbow knocked the pile of clothes into the bowl of water. ‘So it’s been quite a shock for me too. And as you can see, Charlie’s not very happy with me at the moment,’ he said, as the baby’s wails increased.

  Annie was speechless. She didn’t know whether to be angry, surprised, amused or horrified. A thousand emotions fought within her. Toby had a baby! But he was against commitment, against having babies—having them himself, that was. If he had a baby then he must have had—there must have been a woman involved. Well, obviously. Why hadn’t he told her? She wanted a baby herself in time and now…

  It was all too much; she couldn’t cope. Much easier to take refuge in simple actions. ‘If you’re trying to bathe that baby, you’re doing it all wrong,’ she said. ‘Shall I show you?’

  ‘Thanks, Annie. It’s something I’ve got to learn.’ He handed the baby over to her and she cradled Charlie to her, loving how he felt in her arms.

  She’d enjoyed helping to look after her cousin’s two young children when they had been babies, washing, dressing, feeding, and playing with them. Those skills would certainly come in useful now.

  She rocked the little scrap of humanity given to her. There was that baby smell, those blue unquestioning eyes, that little mouth that opened, yawned and shut again. It was all too much, there were too many feelings. What did she feel for Toby now? It was hard to tell. There was great sympathy but also great anger. She felt that he had managed to make a mess of his life—and in doing so had managed to make a mess of hers too

  Pushing her emotions aside, she washed the now quiet baby, put on his nappy and dressed him in the clothes that Toby handed her, turning chaos into peaceful orderliness. ‘Is he due a feed?’

  ‘I think so. There’s a bottle somewhere and packets of stuff and some pots of goo as well.’

  She handed the baby to him, Charlie looking so small and safe in his arms. ‘Here, nurse your son. Walk up and down with him. You know they like movement. Lean his head over your shoulder.’

  Toby did as he was told, watching while Annie mixed a feed, warming a pot of beef and rice. Then she showed Toby how to sit and hold the baby, how to feed him, how to keep a towel over his shoulder. He sat quite contentedly, the baby in his lap. And Annie cleared away the table, took a while to survey what else needed to be done, checked over the contents of the various boxes. Practically everything needed for a baby was there, and all of good quality. Toby appeared to have ac
quired a baby who apparently needed nothing. Except a loving family.

  She came to sit opposite him. Now he knew what he was doing he appeared quite contented. In fact, there was a smile, half surprised, half curious.

  She had to examine her own emotions again. There was a sense of anger and betrayal. He had kept things from her that she ought to have known. He had claimed that he didn’t want commitment—that was why he had got rid of her. And yet he had been committed enough with someone to have a baby. And she’d wanted a baby! He just hadn’t been fair.

  ‘You said you wanted my advice,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure I’m the right person to give it. For a start, I don’t feel very detached. But let’s start at the beginning. Why didn’t you tell me you had a child?’

  ‘Like I said, I didn’t know,’ he said simply, gazing down at his son’s tiny features. ‘The first knowledge I had of it was shortly after we were disturbed earlier.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll be brief and then you can ask questions. Maybe I should start from the beginning. Two years ago, I got married.’

  Annie felt the ice form around her heart as she heard this. At first she could hardly comprehend what he had said. Toby? Married? But they had… It was a while before she could speak. ‘Well, that’s nice to know,’ she said, her voice strangely calm. ‘Don’t you think you might have mentioned being married before? Say, before you took me to bed?’

  He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t married when I took you to bed. By that time I was divorced.’

  Annie was still shocked by what she had heard. ‘Married and divorced inside two years? Somebody certainly made a mistake.’

  ‘I made a mistake. We made a mistake. I thought I was in love, I really did.’

  Distracted, he pushed his free hand through his unruly hair. It was a familiar gesture and as he made it her heart lurched again, aching for him. Then she was angry at herself. How could she feel for him when he was confessing this? ‘The baby, Toby?’