Their Double Baby Gift

by Louisa Heaton

  Right now she was ecstatic that he was calling her Dr Bailey.

  You stay over there, Major—that’s right. Imagine I’ve got a minefield around me.

  Brooke looked down at her next chart and frowned. Two patients on one chart? She quickly scanned the notes that the triage nurse had added: Glued together.

  Smiling at the silliness of some people, she headed to the waiting room. ‘Rachel and Jake?’

  A young teenage couple stood up, their hands locked together, and following behind them, looking less amused, two sets of parents.

  Brooke raised her eyebrows at the teens and sent a look of sympathy towards the parents. ‘Follow me.’

  She took them to a cubicle and got them to sit on the small bed.

  ‘You’ve glued yourselves together?’

  They raised their clasped hands, looking quite pleased with themselves. ‘We had to.’

  ‘You had to?’

  Rachel turned to look at her father and sneered. ‘They kept trying to split us up. Said Jake wasn’t good enough for me—but they’re wrong! We love each other and want to be together for ever, so we decided to prove it.’

  ‘By gluing your hands together?’

  Rachel nodded. ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You couldn’t just wait until you were old enough to get married?’

  One of the parents bristled slightly. ‘Don’t give them ideas. As if this isn’t bad enough! I’ve had to take time off work for this—and they’re missing school. All because they’re so childish they can’t see what they’re doing!’

  Fair enough. She could understand the parents’ point of view. ‘Can I have a look at your hands?’

  She examined Rachel and Jake’s hands. They were stuck tight—glued around their palms and fingers. She’d have to be careful not to damage the skin in removing the glue.

  She’d heard of other people coming across this in A&E, but this was a first for her. Rachel and Jake probably thought they were being unique and different, proving their devotion to each other, but all they had done was alienate everyone and give their parents even more reason to try and keep the two of them apart.

  ‘Okay, I’ll need to check which solution to use on this. Sit tight for a moment. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

  She headed back to the doctors’ desk and shared with Kelly the details of the case she’d got.

  ‘Oh, I had a couple do that once.’

  ‘Really? What? Here?’

  ‘No, when I worked up in Birmingham. But they didn’t glue their hands.’

  She raised an eyebrow at her and Brooke grimaced.

  ‘Eurgh! People do mad things when they think they’re in love.’

  ‘It’s certainly an emotion that ought to come with a health warning.’

  Brooke mused. ‘Do you think anyone would pay attention to it, though?’

  ‘I don’t know. It would have to be a really clever TV advert. ‘Warning! Falling in love can result in sleepless nights, stomach ache and heart pain. Use with caution.’’

  Brooke smiled. ‘Let’s not forget the terrible grief at its end. Look at what Major Galloway has had to go through.’

  ‘Matt? He’s survived it. He’s in one piece, anyway.’

  Was he? Or was he just very good at hiding his wounds? Brooke hadn’t known Jen long. Less than a year. But they had become such great friends, so quickly, that she’d given her entire heart to their friendship. When she’d lost Jen it had hurt her terribly. And she still mourned the mother she’d never really known, too. Was she destined to always have a piece missing in her heart?

  Was anyone totally whole?

  Don’t all of us have chipped, broken edges?

  ‘I’m thinking of using warm, soapy water first.’

  ‘On Matt?’ Kelly raised an eyebrow. ‘Could be interesting...’

  Brooke smiled at her friend. ‘On the two lovebirds in Cubicle Six.’

  ‘Oh, right... Yeah, lots of soap and warm water. Slowly ease their hands apart—no tugging, no ripping. That should do it.’

  Brooke stood up to get herself a basin, but then turned to ask Kelly one last question. ‘How would you prove that you loved somebody?’

  Kelly looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Without making them want to get a restraining order? Erm... I don’t actually know. How would you do it?’

  Brooke shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t. It’s all a bit scary, if you ask me. Besides, I’ve got Morgan now. I don’t need anyone else.’

  Kelly returned a look that said I don’t believe you.

  She pondered, whilst she filled a container with warm, soapy water, whether someone like Matt, who had already been broken once by loving someone, would ever feel he could fall in love again. Probably not. He had his hands full, too. Both of them had a strenuous full-time job and both of them were single parents. Did either of them have time to fit in the needs and wants of another person who would control their hearts?

  Not me. Definitely not me.

  But as she headed back to the cubicle and began soaking the clasped hands of the two teenagers, who were still staring into each other’s eyes, she couldn’t help but think about Matt and how he managed to lift her spirits every moment she spent time with him...

  * * *

  There’d been a frost that morning. The first one of autumn, which was Brooke’s favourite time of year. There was nothing she liked better than chilly weather, as long as it wasn’t raining. Having to wrap up in woolly scarves, hats and gloves, her nose going red as she watched her own breath freeze in the air around you... And autumn brought Halloween and Bonfire Night, with hot potatoes wrapped in foil and everyone gazing heavenwards at the inky black sky, awaiting the fireworks show.

  November the fifth was just a few short days away, and already she’d spent some of her nights listening to the occasional firework or banger going off in the local neighbourhood.

  Last year she’d spent the evening with Eric, and as much as there had been fireworks in the sky there’d also been fireworks as he’d walked her home, arguing that she’d spent her entire evening staring at another man. She hadn’t. But Eric had insisted that the man hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her and Brooke had been encouraging him. One final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

  This year she would go to an organised fireworks show with Morgan and delight in her daughter’s pleasure at seeing fireworks for the first time. But in the meantime she had this Music Melody class to get through...

  That morning she’d lain in bed, listening to Morgan babble away in the next room, wanting to stay under the duvet. It was the weekend, and she’d been looking forward to her customary lie-in of an extra hour. But the class started early, and she had promised she would go, and Matt was right. It would be good for her to get out of the house and it would be good for Morgan to socialise, even though she did spend the majority of her week in a crèche.

  I do need to do something with my daughter other than drop her off and collect her each day.

  And who knew? It might even be fun.

  She dressed in some old jeans, threw on a tee shirt, a poncho and a beanie hat, slipped into her boots and got Morgan into her car seat.

  ‘Okay. Now, I’m hoping we’re going somewhere that will be melodic and harmonious, but as I’m guessing the majority of the orchestra is going to be under the age of one, I’m not holding out much hope for our ears. So if you could at least pretend to enjoy yourself—that would be great.’

  Morgan responded by blowing a bubble with her saliva and smiling.

  Brooke kissed her button nose and got into the driving seat. Part of her hoped that she would enjoy herself, but would she really find joy amongst a bunch of babies banging away on drums and tambourines? She’d forearmed herself by putting painkillers into her
handbag, just in case the place gave her the mother of all headaches.

  The GPS directed her through London to the required church hall, and she parked in its small car park, pulling into a space, noticing that Matt was already there, getting Lily’s buggy out of the boot of his own vehicle.

  ‘You made it.’

  She got out of her car. ‘You doubted me?’

  He smiled. ‘Not for one moment. Are you ready for this?’

  ‘I’ve got earplugs, if that’s what you mean?’

  Matt laughed as he strapped Lily into her buggy.

  Brooke scooped Morgan out of her own car seat and decided not to get the buggy out—she would carry her daughter inside.

  She hefted her onto her left hip. ‘What do you think? Are we about to discover this country’s next great virtuoso?’

  ‘You never know.’

  Matt led the way into the hall and Brooke could feel nerves building in her stomach. She’d never wanted to come to one of these places. What if the other mothers wanted to talk? What if they asked questions? She’d have to tell them she was a single parent. That Eric had never seen his daughter and didn’t care. What did that say about her, to have got involved with a man like that? It wasn’t good, was it? It was hardly a letter of commendation regarding her assessment skills. Perhaps it would just be best to say she’d used a sperm donor?

  But, then again, she was here to stop Matt getting the looks. Were they to pretend that they were going out? Were married? She’d noticed he still wore his wedding band. That would make Lily and Morgan twins, wouldn’t it?

  The church hall was warm and in the centre was a large carpet. Around the edges sat various parents holding their babies on their laps, or letting them crawl around on the floor. Everyone chatted happily, waiting for the class to begin.

  Brooke sucked in a breath. Here goes. She stepped forward with Matt and they found a spot together on the edge of the circle and let Lily and Morgan say hello to each other in their own cute baby way. Mainly patting each other in the face with their hands.

  A young woman wearing a bright yellow tee shirt with the words Music Melody Maestro on it clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention.

  ‘Welcome, everyone! It’s lovely to see so many of you here, today. My name is Melanie and I’m going to lead our group!’

  Like Daisy at the crèche, Melanie appeared to be one of those people with a permanently sunny disposition. Brooke wondered if that was a requirement to work with children. Must always look as if you’re having the best fun!

  She smiled and sat Morgan up against her, holding onto her chubby little hands.

  ‘Now, here at Music Melody classes we want children to grow up loving the language of music! And to do that we’re going to start off with simple rhymes and songs that we can all do the actions to, so that our babies learn about rhyme and rhythm and melody. Music can touch the soul and bring happiness to all if we all just take the time to find the right song! So let’s start with the simplest: “Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake”.’

  Brooke glanced worriedly at Matt. This wasn’t an instruments class! This was singing! Why hadn’t he warned her? Brooke was tone deaf and couldn’t carry a note! Singing here, like this, out loud, where other people could hear her was not a very good idea at all!

  But before she could say anything Melanie launched into the song, and so did everyone else around her.

  Brooke opened her mouth and pretended to sing.

  Matt seemed to be finding her discomfort terribly amusing. They’d gone from ‘Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake’ to ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ and had just finished a rousing rendition of ‘Old McDonald Had a Farm’.

  But that hadn’t been the worst thing. Melanie, the alliterative Music Maestro, had said that each parent would have to suggest an animal, starting the verse off by themselves.

  Brooke had felt horror creep into her bones, her skin crawling, and wished she could be anywhere but there. And as they’d gone round the circle, getting closer and closer to her, her mind had fixated on a goose, of all things, so she’d started her verse: ‘And on that farm there was a goose, e-i-e-i-o. With a honk-honk here and a honk-honk there...’

  Her voice had sounded like a teenage boy’s—squeaky one minute, deep the next—and the tune had been mangled beyond all recognition, but she’d got through it without her face melting from the shame, and when she’d glanced at Matt she’d been encouraged by his smile and the way he’d clapped Lily’s hands together, as if in small applause.

  He’d suggested Old McDonald had a turkey, and after he’d got all the other mothers laughing and singing along with him about gobbling the singing circle finally made it back to Melanie and the torture stopped for them all to get a cup of tea.

  Brooke got to her feet thankfully, and headed over to the kitchen to stand in line.

  ‘Enjoying yourself?’ Matt caught up with her, his face full of humour and bonhomie.

  ‘I’d rather be doing surgery on myself with a blunt spoon, but apart from that it’s a thrill a minute.’

  He laughed. ‘I thought it was your kind of thing. Great singing, by the way, Dr Bailey. I’ve not heard notes achieved like that before.’

  She pursed her lips. ‘And you’ll never hear them again! I think it’s safe to say that I will never, ever come back here.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She turned to face him. ‘Because this is not a class for babies. This is a class to humiliate parents and make them think that just because there are other adults in the room they’re actually getting decent conversation.’

  ‘You’re not having a good time?’ He tilted his head to one side and looked curiously at her.

  ‘Sorry. I’m being a killjoy about your bright idea. Forget me. Go and talk to all the other mummies. They all seem very keen to try and get your attention.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve not noticed? It’s flirtation central here! I don’t think I’ve seen more women flicking and playing with their hair whilst ogling the only person in the room whose testes have descended.’

  He laughed. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

  But she could tell that he had. It had been a concern of his before he’d even got here, and he’d asked her along to ward off that sort of thing.

  The queue moved forward and Brooke passed him a cup of tea, adding sugar to hers and grabbing a biscuit that felt slightly soft because it was so old. But it would do.

  Had he really not noticed how all the other women had reacted when he’d walked in? Brooke had instantly seen them eye him, straightening their clothes, and a few less subtle mothers had even got out a compact mirror and checked they looked okay before beaming a smile in his direction.

  Okay, perhaps they weren’t being so obvious that a guy would notice, but she had. And she could see why they would be noticing. Major Galloway was a handsome guy with come-to-bed eyes and a rugged demeanour that oozed the fact that he worked hard and knew how to use his hands. Probably other body parts, too. Quite...erm...effectively.

  But Brooke was immune to his charms. She felt sure of it. Besides, they were colleagues—that was all. They just happened to have two kids the same age.

  Not being able to find a chair, she settled herself down on the carpet and lay Morgan on her back next to Lily.

  ‘Jen would have found this place hilarious,’ she said.

  She noticed him stiffen at the mention of his wife’s name. ‘Probably.’

  She dunked her biscuit in her tea and quickly pulled it out before it could break off in the drink, popping the whole thing into her mouth. As she munched on it she noticed that he was staring at her with a smile on his face.

  ‘What?’ she asked through a mouthful of crumbs.

  ‘Nothing.’ He looked away.

&
nbsp; ‘No, go on. What did I do?’

  He glanced back at her, finally capitulating. ‘Jen used to do that. Eat the whole biscuit in one go, I mean.’

  ‘Oh.’ She hadn’t realised. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He shook his head, smiling. ‘You don’t have to apologise. It’s just a biscuit.’

  ‘I just don’t want to...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Remind you. Make you sad.’

  ‘A million things remind me every day. Especially Lily. It’s good, though. Because why would I want to forget?’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Has it got a little easier? Since she passed? I know it’s only five months since it happened...’

  And now she felt awkward for having asked. For her, Jen was the first big loss that she’d ever had to face, since her mother’s death. The grief was still difficult some days, but it was getting easier to bear. Sometimes something would happen at work, or with Morgan, and the first thing she’d think would be, I must tell Jen. And then she would realise, with a great thud in her heart and stomach, that Jen wasn’t here any more. There was a gaping hole in her life and she didn’t know how to fill it.

  ‘I’ve accepted it. When I got back to England I was numb, and then I got angry. Wanted to rage against the world for taking her. But then I’d hold Lily in my arms and I could see Jen looking out at me, through her eyes, and I just knew that if Jen were there still she’d be telling me to stop being such a macho idiot, get a grip and move on.’ He smiled. ‘Did she ever say that to you?’

  Brooke nodded. ‘That I’m a macho idiot? Oh, absolutely.’ She allowed a smile to play at her lips. ‘She hated people being sad. She was always telling me to snap out of it whenever I was feeling low about my situation.’

  ‘Did that ever work?’

  ‘Sometimes. Every day is different, isn’t it? Each dawn a new page on which your story can either have a high or a low.’

  He nodded, as if he knew what she was saying exactly. ‘Jen would want us both to have highs.’

  ‘Not pharmaceutically!’ She laughed, the sound escaping her almost like a cry, sudden and short.