He shook his head slowly. ‘You’re still young, Zoe. I think you’re over Neil now. At the moment you’re happy, but eventually you’ll ache for more children.’
Zoe knew where he was heading, was desperate to stop him going further. ‘Connor, all I want is you and Jamie! That’s all I need to make me happy!’
She thought she had never heard such misery in a voice. ‘But I can’t give you children. I’m infertile. Sterile.’ The words felt as if they were being ripped out of him, leaving behind a gaping wound which would never heal. He loved Zoe more than anything, but what she’d told him confirmed every doubt he’d ever harboured—he couldn’t give her everything she most wanted, and she deserved a man who could make her every wish come true.
‘I know! I don’t care! But if it bothers you, just think what the future might bring. There are experiments with stem cells. There’s that one in a million chance. There’s always hope. Or we could adopt if you’re desperate for a bigger family. Connor, you’re a born father; it’s what you are supposed to be.’ Zoe gasped for breath, trying to choke back tears. How could things change so quickly from happiness to despair?
‘And you’re a born mother, Zoe. It’s what you are supposed to be. You need, you deserve, to have more children.’ His voice grew harsher. ‘Tell me what it was like, what you felt when you had Jamie. Tell me!’
She knew that this was the last thing she ought to say but there could be no lying to him. ‘It was…it was the most magic moment of my life. But that doesn’t matter! Connor, last night was magic and we both felt it. You know that. Connor, don’t throw what we’ve found away!’
He stood, his face ashen. ‘This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. But we both know this is the right thing to do.’
‘No, we don’t know,’ she cried. Why wouldn’t he listen? Was he so traumatised by his own tragedy that he couldn’t believe her love for him overrode it all? ‘We don’t know that at all!’
But he was inexorable. ‘What we had last night I’ll remember till the day I die. It wasn’t casual, it wasn’t an affair; it was lovemaking in every sense of the word. I love you so much, Zoe, but that’s why we have to part. I love you too much to tie you down.’
He was going! She cast around in desperation for something to say to make him see his mistake, to stop him from walking away and destroying all her new and fragile hopes and dreams for them both. ‘What about Jamie? You’re not just hurting me. You’ll be hurting him!’
She saw his face twist with even more grief. ‘I know. I only hope that my decision will ultimately be the best for him.’
‘You hope? You have no idea! So what do we do now?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to make your life harder than necessary. Maybe I should leave the practice. Sell up. Start over.’
At those words all her hope, all her anger drained away. He was a good doctor, he belonged here, but his stupid, noble misery was about to encase him in ice all over again. She couldn’t bear it. ‘There’s no need for that,’ she said quietly. ‘I can cope—and Jamie will have to. Connor, I love you—infertile or not—but you’ve made your mind up and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can say to change it. I have to ask you one thing, though, for Jamie’s sake, not mine. Don’t simply stop seeing him. You needn’t spend as much time with him as you have been doing, if you don’t want to. Maybe tail it off gradually. He’s still unsure after coming up here. You’ve been his cure, you know that. Just another month? Perhaps two?’
‘That’s fair. I…I shall miss him, Zoe.’
She couldn’t help herself. ‘And me? Will you miss me?’
His face betrayed his pain. ‘Yes, you know I will. Zoe, you can’t hate me any more than I hate myself. But I can’t give you what you need. One day you’ll thank me for this.’
That idea was so ludicrous that she couldn’t even summon up the energy to reply.
He was silent a moment and then said, ‘So what about us? If I’m to stay here and not sell up? How will we manage?’
‘By seeing as little of each other as possible,’ she said bitterly. ‘And when we do meet—why, we’ll just pretend.’
‘Just pretend,’ he repeated. ‘Right.’
He turned and walked down the path. And, as she watched him go, taking her heart and her dreams with him, the tears she’d been holding back finally fell.
Chapter Ten
LIFE had to go on—even if it seemed unendurable. Zoe drove to Jo’s house to pick up Jamie. She parked outside, heard the noise of children playing and peered over the hedge. Her heart turned over when she saw a laughing Jamie being chased across the lawn by Jo’s two girls. And Jo supervising, reclining in a deckchair, straw hat on head, a book in her hand. Everyone was so happy! Why couldn’t she be happy too, instead of feeling completely emotionally devastated?
She pushed open the garden gate, walked across the lawn. ‘Mummy!’ A little body hurtled towards her, arms outstretched. She picked him up, hugged him, tears misting her vision. It was good to know that somebody loved her.
She kissed him, put him down and managed to say, ‘I’ll be with you in a minute, sweetheart. Just going to talk to Auntie Jo.’ And Jamie ran off.
Jo looked up as she saw her friend walking towards her. Then she saw Zoe’s face and her smile faded. ‘Zoe, what is it? You look terrible; what’s happened to you?’
Too much concern, too much kindness. Zoe found she couldn’t speak. She stood there, desolate, face tear-streaked, and shook her head.
‘Inside. The kids will be all right on their own. I know just the thing you need.’ Jo seized her arm, pulled her indoors and guided her to an armchair. ‘Sit there, close your eyes, try to relax and we’ll talk in a minute. But first…’
Zoe tried to do as she was told. After a moment she felt a glass being pushed into her hand. ‘Just sip that.’
She did. Then she coughed, spluttered, coughed again. Neat brandy! She rarely drank neat spirits. And never in the middle of the day. But the fiery liquid did something for her, jerked her out of her shock.
‘Finish it, and then we’ll have some tea and you can tell me what’s wrong,’ Jo said.
So Zoe finished the drink and felt—not better, but less worse. At least she was able to talk. ‘Connor and I spent the night together,’ she said, ‘and it was miraculous. Then this morning…this morning when I thought I couldn’t be any happier, we talked about having children. Jo, this is his secret but you’re my best friend and…well, because of having Lyme disease, he can’t now have children. So he’s gone all stubborn and noble and stupid and thinks he mustn’t come near me.’
‘Oh, honey!’ Jo hugged her sympathetically. ‘Men! God’s gift to themselves. Didn’t you tell him you didn’t mind?’
‘Well, of course I did! But he’s quite sure he knows what’s best for me. Jo, what am I going to do?’
‘I don’t know what you’re going to do in the long term, but I know what you’re going to do right now. Jamie’s happy playing. Sam’s at the surgery doing paperwork. You are going upstairs to sleep for a couple of hours. Emotion is more tiring than hard work.’
‘I couldn’t sleep!’
‘Try it and find out.’
So Zoe did. And, to her amazement—she slept.
She was dreading going home, to the place where she had been rejected with such shocking suddenness, but she knew it had to be faced. She had come to love her little coach house. It felt more of a home than ever the London flat had. Always, in the past few months, no matter how enjoyable the day had been, she had been glad to enter the front door. Now she wondered if she’d ever sit on the patio again and not think of this morning’s heartbreak.
There was a note pushed through the letter box. She recognised Connor’s bold handwriting, and her heart leaped.
Zoe—Just to let you know that I will be away all next week. I found a cancellation on a course for new drugs use for GPs and Sam agrees that it would be a good idea if
I went on it. Back next weekend. Tell Jamie we’ll play football when I get back. I’m sorry—Connor.
Zoe blinked back tears. Just for a moment she’d thought he might have changed his mind. She looked at the note again. Away all next week. It was probably for the best. It would give her some time to subdue these new longings in her heart, to work out if they really could coexist without her wanting to be with him. To start all over again with this fresh life of hers.
She told Jamie that Uncle Connor would be away for a few days, but that he could go still into the big garden as long as she was with him.
Jamie was tired and didn’t need much reading when he was put to bed. Once he was asleep, Zoe stood at her window looking across at Connor’s house. All the windows were dark. She felt unbearably lonely. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d been comforted by the knowledge that Connor was so close.
Going to bed was worse. She had her usual bath, slid between the sheets wanting only the oblivion of sleep—and there, just faintly, was Connor’s smell. Part cologne, part masculinity. She couldn’t stand it. She got up and changed the linen and pillowcases. Then climbed back into bed and sobbed her heart out.
By the end of the week she had almost accepted the awkwardness of the situation. She talked to Jo, said she had thought of leaving, but it was difficult because she and Jamie were so happy here.
‘You’ve made a home in Buckley, that’s why,’ said Jo. ‘It suits you and you suit it. It’s a daft idea to leave.’ She shook her head crossly. ‘I don’t know whether to shake Connor or applaud him! I think he’s wrong in what he’s done but I can almost admire his strength in doing what he said. Because I do think he loves you. It was fairly obvious from the way he was looking at you at the ball.’
‘That only makes things worse,’ Zoe said flatly.
He came back to work the following week. She saw his lights on Sunday night, knew they had to meet and had been preparing herself. The first time she saw him in the corridor, she put a false smile on her face. ‘Hi, welcome back. People have been asking after you. Was it a good course?’
He looked almost shocked at her cheerful facade. Then assumed his courteous, slightly distant manner. ‘Yes, the course was very interesting. I learned a lot. Has everything been…okay while I was away?’
‘Jamie missed you, but he played in your garden. He’ll be glad to see you.’ She moistened her lips, but carried on. ‘There’s been a bit of speculation by people who were at the ball and thought they’d seen more than really existed. All died down now.’
He closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain. ‘That’s something, I suppose. And you?’
‘Fine.’
‘Good.’ He didn’t seem very convinced. Was he finding this as difficult as she was? People passing in the corridor must think that they were just a couple of colleagues, having a chat. They couldn’t feel the hidden messages passing from one to the other.
‘I’ve bought Jamie a small present,’ he said. ‘A new football.’
‘That’s nice of you. I’ll send him over this evening. But don’t let him interfere with your life.’
Connor winced at this and she felt slightly guilty.
‘I’ll try not to,’ he said.
Jamie ran straight over after school, returning after a while, happy with his new football but saying that Uncle Connor had to work hard to catch up after being away. ‘He said he might see me tomorrow,’ he added.
This is how it’s going to be, thought Zoe. But I can cope. I have to.
But coping was all it was. It was as if she’d been so piercingly happy for that short time when she knew she loved Connor and knew her loved her that now there was no middle path for her to take. She was worried that Jamie might suffer, but fortunately he started getting excited about Sports Day, staying after school twice a week to practice for it. She hoped it might make up for him not seeing quite so much of Connor. It was just a pity she couldn’t find a similar remedy for herself.
And then, after a dreadful day of home visits and hospital trips, Connor came to her door. The first time since they had parted. He caught her with a trayful of newly baked scones—just as he had that very first time. As she heard the click of the gate and looked up to see him walking through her garden, her memories of that occasion came flooding back. How things had changed.
He looked almost as ill at ease as she was. ‘Hi.’
Love, misery and a desperate need to appear calm coursed through her. ‘Hi. How are you?’
‘Fine. Look, I don’t want to disturb you. I’ve got to get back for evening surgery, but…’
‘You’re not disturbing me. And evening surgery isn’t for ages yet. Connor, we’re managing at work. We can still be polite to each other at home, can’t we?’
There was a tiny pause. ‘Of course.’
Still be polite to each other. Even as she spoke the words, she knew they were ridiculous. What they had shared went far beyond simple politeness. She bit her lip. ‘So why are you here?’
‘Jamie was saying it’s his birthday soon. Apparently being six is the greatest age ever because it means he can join the school football team next year.’
‘So I’ve been told. Frequently.’ This was awful. She gripped the tray of scones, unable to think what to do with it. ‘Do you want a scone?’ she asked.
It obviously wasn’t something that he had expected. ‘Well, yes, but…’
‘Go and sit on the patio. I’ll bring some out.’ And if sitting on the patio brought back memories that were uncomfortable, well, that was too bad. She turned her back on him, assembling a tray, putting the kettle on too to give herself time. He took the hint and retreated.
‘Right, Jamie’s birthday,’ she said brightly when she joined him. ‘It’s in a fortnight. I’ve promised him a party. It’ll mean quite a few shouting children, I’m afraid. I’ll try and keep the noise down, obviously.’
Connor had turned his scone over and was smiling at the face underneath. Quite a bleak smile, but it almost unmanned Zoe to see it.
‘You know perfectly well he’s welcome to bring his friends into my garden, noisy or not, and I’ll be upset if he doesn’t!’
He means it, she realised, as she looked at his fierce expression—and had to concentrate hard not to weep for the unfairness of life. ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said.
‘It’ll give me pleasure. Zoe, that’s not what I came across for. You know it’s Buckley Show this weekend?’
‘I can hardly miss it; the posters are everywhere!’
‘Of course they are. The local agricultural show is a big occasion.’
‘I’ve never been to one before. Jo and Sam and the family are going on the Sunday. I expect Jamie and I will go with them. I gather there’s a small funfair with roundabouts and so on, as well as a show ring and a competition marquee.’
‘Yes, all of that,’ said Connor. He looked more uncomfortable than Zoe had ever seen him. ‘And more, too. Zoe, there’s something I think Jamie will really like. Something I arranged before…before…’
‘Before you decided you couldn’t have a relationship with me after all because you couldn’t father children? Totally ignoring what I felt about it? And just after you had spent the night making love to me?’
‘That isn’t fair! Is that what you think of me? That I would take you to bed and then…and then…’
She had never seen him look so horrified and disgusted. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, I don’t really think that. To tell you the truth, I’m not thinking very straight at all right at the moment.’ She took a ragged breath. ‘Why don’t you just tell me whatever it is you arranged when we were still simply friends?’
She saw he was having difficulty in talking. She knew her words had hurt him, but he had hurt her too.
But he started, ‘On Saturday, there is going to be a parade of tractors around the show ring. And a farmer patient of mine called Bert Ramsdale is taking part.’
‘So?’
‘Bert
has the biggest, reddest tractor you have ever seen, just like in that blessed story Jamie likes so much. Anyway, some time ago I asked him—if you agree—Jamie can ride on the tractor with Bert during the parade.’
Her heart ached at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. ‘A ride on a big red tractor! Connor, he’d be so excited! That’s wonderful! Are you sure it’s all right?’
‘Bert’s got grandchildren of his own, though they’ve grown up a bit now. He’d love to give Jamie a ride. Call it an early birthday present.’
‘Oh, Connor, thank you.’ She picked her next words carefully. ‘What time do you want to pick him up?’
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. ‘Thank you for trusting me with him—and I’d be very happy to take him on my own. But I’ve just been talking to him about the fair and he’s desperate to go. To go with you.’ Connor looked a little shamefaced. ‘He asked if I would come too. I said I’d see what work I had. And then I felt really dreadful as his little face fell. Zoe, I truly think Jamie would have a better time if all three of us went together.’
The silence between them seemed to lengthen and lengthen. The worst of it was; she knew Connor was right. And Jamie was her son and she loved him. What was one more day of pain compared to his happiness? ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll come too. Like I said before, we can pretend.’
He looked relieved. ‘You’re very generous.’
She made a helpless gesture. ‘It was nice of you to think of it in the first place.’ Then compressed her lips. It hadn’t been nice; it had been lovely. It had been exactly the sort of splendiferous treat a loving father would dream up for his son. Don’t go there, Zoe. Just don’t go there.
Connor stood. ‘I’ll come over about ten. We can walk. It’ll be impossible to park.’ And he was gone.
It rained during the week, curtailing Jamie’s playing in Connor’s garden, but Friday was drier and Saturday dawned fine and warm. Zoe took a chance on the weather and wore a pink dress that she knew flattered her and brought out the tone of her skin. It was mildly revealing too, cut low in the front. She had her pride; she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself ever again, but there was no harm in reminding Connor of what he had turned down.
Village Midwife, Blushing Bride Page 15