by Sarah Morgan
‘Oh, God, Patrick, no.’ Hayley’s heart ached at what that must have done to Alfie, who would have been old enough to understand. ‘And that was it? What about access? Seeing them?’
‘She doesn’t see them,’ Patrick said coldly. ‘Don’t ask me why.’
Hayley tried to imagine a woman not wanting to see her children but failed. ‘Do you think it’s because she loved you so much she just had to make a clean break?’
Patrick gave her an odd look. ‘That’s the generous interpretation,’ he said softly, lowering his head to kiss her gently. ‘I don’t think that. I think she wanted to start afresh and the children would have held her back. If you want my honest opinion, I’m not sure she ever really wanted children. I think they were just part of the lifestyle package she wanted for herself. An acquisition. Like a new kitchen,’ he said wryly, ‘only more work.’
Hayley felt a surge of outrage on his behalf. ‘So you were left on your own on Christmas Eve—’
‘Actually, no.’ Patrick turned the hot water on again. ‘Daniel was so freaked out that Carly had walked out, he broke off his engagement to Stella and he walked out, too.’
Hayley stared at him in disbelief and Patrick shrugged.
‘Daniel and I had a very dysfunctional childhood. It was like living in a war zone most of the time. Dan was always nervous about marriage. In fact, it was an indication of just how much he loved Stella that she even got him to propose—and if Carly hadn’t walked out that night they might have stayed together and not have wasted two years.’
‘It scared him?’
‘It reminded him that relationships are difficult, fragile things. So Stella and I were left on our own, both of us crushed.’ He gave a faint smile. ‘Unbelievable, really. Anyway, we joined forces that Christmas and put on a giant act, as you do when you have children—and somehow we got through.’
Hayley slid deeper under the warm water. ‘So for two years you concentrated on your children and then you met me—and you thought you’d made the same mistake again.’
‘No.’ Patrick’s tone was rough. ‘I never thought that. What you and I share is entirely different and it has been from the first moment.’
‘But I can see why you must have been so worried. Your children’s lives have been shattered and you’ve just got things back together—and then I arrive. And you thought I was pregnant. You were worried I’d expect you to marry me.’
Patrick sighed. ‘I admit I’m a bit sensitive to that issue. I overreacted.’
‘And I can understand why.’
Patrick took her face in his hands. ‘I’m glad you came, Hayley. I’m glad you stayed. Alfie already adores you. I’ve never seen him take to anyone so quickly.’
‘Thank you for telling me the truth,’ Hayley said softly. ‘And for what it’s worth, I don’t think pregnancy is a reason for marriage either. My dad married my mum for the same reason and it was a disaster. There’s no love there. Never was. And my step-siblings really resent me and always have. It hasn’t made for a happy family.’
‘I can see why you didn’t want to spend another Christmas with them.’
‘I wanted to find you. I wanted to know whether what we’d shared was all in my imagination.’
‘It wasn’t in your imagination.’
‘When you opened the door on Christmas Eve I wanted to die on the spot. All I kept thinking was, I got this wrong,’ she confessed. ‘I wanted to melt into a snowdrift. I realised then that for you it had just been a one-night stand.’
‘That wasn’t how it was and you didn’t get it wrong—although I admit that seeing you on my doorstep was a shock.’ Patrick stepped out of the bath and tugged a huge warm towel from the heated rail. ‘That night in Chicago took me by surprise. I hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. That should tell you something about the way I felt.’
Hayley followed him out of the bath and took the towel he offered her. ‘Desperate?’
He made an exasperated sound and brought his mouth down on hers. ‘Smitten,’ he said against her lips. ‘I was smitten, you silly girl.’ He scooped her up again. ‘But I was desperate, too.’ He strode back into the bedroom and tumbled her onto the bed, the damp towels falling onto the floor. As he stroked her hair away from his face, his eyes were suddenly serious. ‘I’m glad you came, Hayley. You have no idea how glad.’
‘I thought you were panicking.’
‘I never panic.’ He wiped a droplet of water from her face. ‘But I was worried—for all the reasons I just explained.’
‘Well, I’m not pregnant, so you can relax.’ Hayley stifled a yawn, thinking that she’d never felt so tired in her life.
Patrick pulled her into his arms. ‘You poor thing—first jetlag then a day at work and then—’
‘Fantastic sex,’ Hayley said sleepily, a grin on her face. ‘Don’t apologise for that bit.’
She was already drifting off as she felt him pull her into his arms. ‘Sleep,’ he said quietly. ‘And tomorrow we can have some fun with the children.’
Chapter Seven
‘SO MUCH for not working over Christmas.’ Maggie handed Patrick a thick set of notes. ‘What are you doing for New Year? Are you treating yourself to a night off?’
‘Maybe. Depends on this place, doesn’t it?’ Patrick frowned at the list on his computer screen, careful not to reveal his plans for New Year’s Eve. He was taking Hayley out. They were going to have some time on their own. ‘Why is this clinic so busy?’
‘Because everyone who was trying not to see you over Christmas now wants to see you.’ Maggie was looking at him expectantly and Patrick lifted an eyebrow.
‘What?’
Maggie grinned. ‘You were right. She’s very pretty. And fun.’
‘Who is very pretty and fun?’
‘Hayley, of course.’
‘You fancy Hayley?’
‘Patrick Buchannan, you are not going to change the subject.’
‘I wasn’t aware that I had.’ Resigning himself to the inevitable, Patrick sighed. ‘Go on, then. What do you want to know?’
‘Is it serious between you?’
‘She’s my housekeeper, Maggie.’
‘I’ve seen you looking at her, Patrick.’
‘Obviously, I look at her.’ Patrick kept his tone casual. ‘She’s worked every shift here for days.’
‘It isn’t the fact that you look at her it’s the way you look at her. You’re clearly crazy about her,’ Maggie said happily. ‘And she adores you, anyone can see that. And I just love happy endings.’
Patrick ran his hand over his jaw. ‘Maggie, there is no happy ending—it’s too soon. We haven’t even…’ What? What hadn’t they done?
Spent time together.
Their relationship had been intense and concentrated and he knew better than anyone that sex was no basis for a longterm relationship.
But it wasn’t just sex, was it?
The more he discovered about her, the more he liked and admired her.
Maggie folded her arms. ‘I’ve known you for seven years. I knew you when you went through the trauma of Posy. I even made you tea when Carly left you. I deserve to enjoy the good bits with you.’
It was just the reminder he needed. ‘Given that my wife walked out two years ago, I’m not likely to jump into another relationship in a hurry.’
‘Your relationship with Carly was over a long time ago. And if something is right, it’s right,’ Maggie said stoutly. ‘You don’t need decades to know it’s right.’
‘Hayley arrived a week ago. A week!’
‘But you met her a few weeks before that.’
‘We spent one night together that’s all.’ Patrick dropped his pen on the desk and exhaled sharply. ‘Why am I discussing this with you?’
‘Because I love you. And because I deserve some excitement in my life. What about Alfie and Posy? The children like her, I’m sure. She’s such fun.’
Patrick had a mental image of Hayley playing hide a
nd seek through the barn the day before. Alfie had been Robin Hood, Posy tripping over a long dress as Maid Marion and Hayley had been the wicked Sheriff of Nottingham. He smiled slightly at the memory. ‘The children adore her.’
Maggie gave a wistful sigh. ‘That’s wonderful, Patrick. I’m so pleased for you. At last you’ve found someone.’
Patrick sent her a warning glance. ‘Don’t. I’m taking this slowly, all right? I’m not going to make another mistake.’ At least she wasn’t pregnant. That took the urgency out of it. They had no need to make any quick decisions about anything. They had time to let their relationship develop. He was going to take her out. ‘If it works, great. If it doesn’t, we’ll part company.’
‘You’d better not part company. She’s a fantastic midwife, I can tell you that.’ Maggie glanced at her watch. ‘We’re quiet on the labour ward so I’ve brought her down here to help you in clinic.’
Patrick greeted that news with mixed feelings. ‘You think I’m going to feel romantic in clinic?’
‘No, but the only other available midwife is Sandy and she’s so in love with you she can’t concentrate. Hayley actually seems to manage to be in love with you and still get her work done.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ She was in love with him? Patrick frowned. No. Of course she wasn’t.
‘And you care for her, too. I’ve never seen you as happy as you’ve been over the past week. Marry her, Patrick,’ Maggie advised. ‘Don’t hesitate.’
‘Maggie, I barely know her. She’s been over here for less than a week.’ And it had been the most frustrating week of his life. Apart from Christmas night when they’d been on their own without the children, they’d made a point of staying away from each other. And abstinence was driving Patrick nuts.
‘Right. Enough of this.’ Striving to hold onto his sanity, he changed the subject. ‘Anything going on upstairs that I ought to know about?’
‘Katie King’s blood pressure went up so she’s fed up because she knows you won’t be sending her home.’
‘She’s right. I won’t.’ Patrick sat back in his chair. ‘What else?’
‘Vicky Thomas has gone into labour. She came in last night.’
‘Vicky? Why didn’t anyone call me?’
‘Because you deserve the odd evening at home with your family,’ Maggie said mildly. ‘Tom sorted her out last night. He said he owed you that one. He adjusted her insulin. He said he was going to call you to discuss it.’
‘He didn’t. No doubt he’s in new father mode. All right—I’ll go up and see her when I’ve finished clinic. What about—?’ Patrick broke off as someone tapped on the door and opened it.
It was Hayley, wearing the dark blue scrub suit that all the midwives wore, her dark hair fastened haphazardly in a twist at the back of her head. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you—I’ve just seen a woman who is thirty-six weeks and I’m worried about her. She says she has flu—she’s been ill over Christmas.’
‘Another one?’ Maggie sighed and walked towards the door. ‘The Lake District is simmering with germs at the moment. I still have three midwives off sick.’
Patrick was looking at Hayley, trying to keep his mind on the job. ‘You’re worried?’
‘Yes. I don’t think it’s flu.’
‘What are her symptoms?’
‘Vomiting, epigastric pain, headache, shivering.’
‘Vomiting? Could be norovirus,’ Maggie murmured, but Hayley shook her head firmly.
‘It could be, but I don’t think it is. Her face is swollen, and she looks…’ Hayley shrugged. ‘I don’t know—I just have a bad feeling. I think she could be showing signs of pre-eclampsia.’
Maggie checked the list in her hand. ‘What’s her name? Who is her consultant?’
‘She isn’t local. That’s the other reason I’m worried. She told me that she was checked in clinic just before Christmas. They told her that a certain amount of swelling is normal, but her ankles are so bad she’s having to wear her husband’s slippers.’
Patrick stood up. ‘She’s staying up here?’
‘With her family over Christmas. And in the last week she’s put on 4.5 kilos.’
‘It is Christmas,’ Maggie said cautiously. ‘I haven’t dared stand on the scales myself, but I’m willing to bet that—’
‘No.’ Hayley interrupted her with a brisk shake of her head and Patrick found himself wondering how she could be so confident in her work and so under-confident in the rest of her life.
But that was the impact of her step-siblings, he thought, knowing only too well what damage family could do.
‘I know it’s Christmas,’ Hayley said, ‘but I’ve questioned her carefully and she hasn’t eaten much—she’s been feeling too ill.’
Patrick was already by the door. ‘Blood pressure?’
‘She says it’s been “high normal” for the past two months but the hospital didn’t seem to think there was any reason to worry. It’s 140 over 100.’
‘Urine?’
‘Trace of protein.’
‘I’ll take a look at her before I start clinic. Maggie, do we have an antenatal bed should I need one?’
Maggie sighed and pulled her notebook out of her pocket. ‘Yes, because Tom is going to discharge his twins lady this morning once Paeds have checked the babies.’
‘Good. I’ll let you know if I’m going to need it.’ Patrick followed Hayley out of the door and into the next room.
‘Charlotte, this is Patrick Buchannan, the consultant.’ Hayley picked up the notes and handed them to Patrick. ‘Charlotte carries her own notes.’
‘Which is helpful.’ Patrick scanned the notes, picking out the information that he needed. ‘Hayley, there’s no record of a platelet count from the day assessment unit—could you call them and see if they did one? It might just not have made it into the notes.’ He listened as Charlotte outlined what had happened, and by the time she reached the end of her story Hayley was back.
‘They only do it on new hypertensives.’
Patrick glanced at the blood-pressure reading in the notes but decided not to worry Charlotte by verbalising his thoughts. ‘All right, so we’ll start fresh. I want to do an ultrasound now, and then I want to do a full blood count and check liver function and renal function.’ While Hayley fetched the ultrasound machine, Patrick turned back to the woman on the bed. ‘I agree with Hayley—I don’t think this is a virus.’
Charlotte exchanged glances with her husband. ‘But I saw my GP in London before I left and he just said there was a lot of it around—everyone is ill.’
‘That’s true,’ Patrick said carefully, ‘but in this case it’s something different.’
‘You think it’s the baby?’
‘Yes, I do. Have you heard of pre-eclampsia?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘No.’
‘It’s a condition that occurs only in pregnancy and it causes a number of changes in your body, including high blood pressure and a leakage of protein into your urine.’
‘But I felt fine until just before Christmas—surely it’s more likely to be a bug?’
‘In its early stages it has no symptoms, but as the condition becomes more serious a woman is likely to experience changes—for example, headaches, stomachaches, vomiting, sometimes visual disturbances.’
Charlotte stared at him. ‘I saw flashing lights for a short time yesterday evening.’
Patrick kept his expression neutral. ‘Right. Well, that might be related. The swelling may also be related.’
‘My doctor told me that no one takes any notice of swelling now—that it’s normal for pregnant women.’
‘It can be normal,’ Patrick agreed, preparing the ultrasound machine. ‘But it can also be a sign of problems. In fact, all those symptoms I just mentioned can be attributed to other causes, which is why the condition can be missed. I want to start by looking at the baby and the placenta, Charlotte. Has the baby been moving?’ As he performed the scan he kept questioning h
er, his eyes on the screen. ‘All right, there’s the baby’s head—and his heart—and that’s the placenta.’
Charlotte peered anxiously at the screen. ‘It all looks like a squirmy mess to me. Does the baby seem all right?’
‘The baby seems fine.’
Charlotte’s husband cleared his throat. ‘So how do you treat pre-eclampsia?’
‘You can’t treat it. You can manage it…’ Patrick pushed the ultrasound machine away from the bed ‘…but basically the condition ends when the baby is delivered.’
‘But I have another month to go!’
Patrick sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Charlotte, you need to prepare yourself for the fact we may need to deliver the baby sooner than that. At thirty-six weeks, your baby is well developed and should have no problems at all. We have to balance all the factors.’
‘All right. Obviously I want to do what’s right for the baby,’ Charlotte said nervously. ‘So what happens now?’
Patrick stood up. ‘I’m going to arrange for you to be transferred to the labour ward. Then I’m going to do a series of tests and when I have the results I’m going to decide what the best course of action is. In the meantime, I’m going to give you something to lower your blood pressure and Hayley is going to stay with you and monitor both you and the baby.’
Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears but before Patrick could speak, Hayley slipped her arm round Charlotte’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘You poor thing, this must be such a shock for you,’ she said soothingly, ‘but it will all be fine. I’m going to take you upstairs and make the room cosy, and we can have a good chat. You can tell me everything about your Christmas.’
She was so tactile, Patrick thought to himself as he stood up and picked up the notes. As sensitive with the patients as she was with his children.
‘One of my team is going to come and take some bloods from you,’ he told Charlotte, ‘and I’ll be up to talk to you later. Hayley, let’s give her some labetalol.’ He scribbled on the drug chart and handed it to Hayley, who followed him out of the room.