Juliet bit her lip. She could counter but chose not to do so. She had said enough and if they chose the non-surgical option she would remain on staff at Teddy’s to help in any way she could, including the delivery. But she hoped they would choose her way forward and she would be able to use her surgical skills to increase the babies’ chances of survival and happy and healthy lives.
Georgina and Leo looked at each other with what Juliet knew would feel like the weight of the world on their shoulders but their love for each other still shone brightly in their eyes. Finally Leo spoke. ‘Is it all right if we sleep on it?’
‘Of course,’ Charlie and Juliet said in unison then they too looked at each other. But it was not lovingly; their look was more of an aloof stare.
Juliet had felt as if she were on a roller coaster since she’d touched down at Heathrow, and even before that with the last-minute packing. But now it was a different type of roller coaster. The emotional type. And for which she had not willingly purchased a ticket, nor even had any idea she would be experiencing. But in the few hours since Charlie had stepped into her life and lifted her tiny daughter into his arms, she had ridden highs and lows that she’d never imagined. He was opinionated and brash; considerate and caring; her old school colleague and stubborn opponent; and still, to her annoyance, attractive.
He was quite the package and she definitely didn’t want to peel back too many layers or get too close. Charlie was confusing her and, working together for the next few weeks, she wondered how successfully she could avoid getting to know more about him. A conservative, bad-boy biker with attitude who seemed to adore children, or at least her child. Could he be any more complex? She doubted it.
And she wasn’t convinced she wanted to understand Charlie Warren.
CHAPTER SIX
WITH LEO AND GEORGINA left alone to think everything over, Juliet had a chance to meet the rest of Teddy’s nursing staff. Although Juliet had seen the Royal Cheltenham hospital emergency department up close and personal with Bea, Charlie knew that she had not seen Teddy’s properly, so he took it upon himself to offer to show her around the centre dedicated to babies and birth. But not before setting the parameters of the working relationship in his mind.
‘I think you would have to agree that we both behaved quite poorly in there,’ he began, thinking that they should get everything out in the open and start afresh. ‘Fortunately not that Georgina or Leo noticed.’
‘I’m sorry, are you questioning my behaviour?’
‘I’m just saying that we could have handled things a little more diplomatically.’
‘So you’re saying that we both behaved poorly and we could have handled things better?’
Charlie frowned. ‘Yes, as I also said, it was done in a very polite manner so that the Abbiatis did not sense any professional tension, but you have to admit we were walking a fine line.’
Juliet’s hands suddenly took pride of place on her hips as she began pacing, then drew to a halt in front of him. ‘I can’t believe what you’re saying and I refuse to accept culpability for your, as you Englishmen say, poor form. I was seconded over here and you were clearly the one stirring doubt, if not confusion.’
* * *
Charlie studied Juliet’s face. Even angry, she was very beautiful. And Juliet was clearly angry. She was riled up and ready to pounce on him for even suggesting that she had participated in the battle of wills. It was apparent when challenged Juliet was like a cat with an arched back. He wondered what made her so defensive. Had she been on the receiving end of too many challenges over her career? Or was it more than that? Was her attitude of fight or flight born from something outside work?
He suddenly stopped his line of thought mid-journey. What she did or did not do outside work was not his business. Whatever had caused, or was still causing, Juliet to fight back was not his concern. She was a grown woman, who had no doubt endured some heartache and some of life’s lessons, but that did not excuse her from professional scrutiny.
Charlie eyed Juliet again. In fact he had barely taken his eyes away from her. All five feet four inches. But despite her petite appearance, he had quickly learnt that she was no shrinking violet. And he doubted she would tolerate fools either. He quickly realised that he wasn’t about to win the argument. And suddenly, to his surprise, he was willing to accept the decision was where it needed to be, with the parents of the babies at risk. They had been given the facts. He couldn’t do any more.
‘Fair call, Dr Turner,’ he offered. ‘I’m sorry for the start we’ve had. Shall we begin again? Let’s put the consultation behind us. One way or the other it looks as if we’ll be spending time together so we should try and make this work.’
Charlie wasn’t sure what had motivated him to call a professional truce but it seemed the right thing to do. He hoped she knew his words were genuine. He was calling a ceasefire. It was a masculine apology but sincere nonetheless. And one he hoped that she would accept.
She extended her hand. ‘Truce accepted, Dr Warren. Let’s agree to disagree and allow the Abbiatis to decide without further interference.’
As he met her handshake the warmth of her skin against his almost made him recant the apology so they could return to adversaries. He pulled his hand free as soon as he was able.
‘We’re both clearly passionate about what we do and that’s a great thing so we will just have to respect our differing opinions and work alongside each other as best we can,’ he said.
‘Yes, and one of us will clearly be pleased with their decision and the other disappointed but we will simply wear it,’ she added.
Charlie said nothing for a moment as he looked at the tiny powerhouse standing near him. She was without doubt one of the best in her field, and, despite not agreeing with that particular obstetric intervention, he had immeasurable respect for her skills. Her reputation had preceded her. But there was something other than respect simmering below the surface for him and it was making him uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
He walked in the direction of the large digital directory board in Reception. ‘It might be a good idea if you took a look around and familiarised yourself with Teddy’s. It would be best if you met everyone and knew where everything was in case you’re needed.’
‘You mean for when I’m needed?’ she responded.
‘Let’s wait and see.’
* * *
The introductions soon became an induction. As she met each of the medical staff she learnt about the layout and workings of Teddy’s. The nursing staff gave Juliet a message from Annabelle, letting her know that Bea had settled in well and that she was enjoying a light lunch with the other children while listening to a story. Knowing that, Juliet decided to keep on the tour and learn as much as she could about the hospital.
The reputation of Teddy’s had been a driving force in Juliet’s accepting the secondment. The opportunity to consult and operate in a hospital with facilities second to none in all of Europe was too good to refuse.
Juliet thanked Charlie for showing her the ropes.
‘Not at all. It’s been an eventful start for you and I hope Bea will be all right tonight. I know I don’t have to mention it, but just give her a little oral analgesia if she has trouble sleeping and she should be fine by tomorrow.’
‘I will.’
As Charlie watched Juliet walk away he realised that he hadn’t wanted the tour to end. He had enjoyed his time with Juliet. She was challenging him and he felt the closest to alive that he had in a long time. They came from polar opposites. Both geographically and professionally. She was forging new ground surgically and he was of the belief that monitoring with minimal surgical intervention was the better method. But despite their differences, he admired her courage.
He had been an OBGYN for many years, and his conservative approach had always provided great outc
omes for the mothers and the babies. Although as he walked back to his office he admitted to himself that he had not dealt with the complication of TTTS in quadruplets. As he sat down behind his desk, to stretch his legs out and read his emails before another ward round, he conceded they were on an even playing field with regard to experience. Neither had a track record that could negate the other. So neither one of them could say with any evidence that their treatment plan was better. It was purely subjective and tainted by preference.
Juliet for taking risks.
Charlie for avoiding them every day since he had taken a chance on the icy road and lost.
* * *
Juliet and a very tired Bea arrived back at their hotel late in the afternoon. Bea had enjoyed her time at the crèche and was not in a hurry to leave. Juliet suspected it was due to the fuss that Annabelle and the children had made of her. After lunch and the story, her mind had been distracted from the traumatic start to the day by the children all wanting to draw pictures on her cast and ask questions about koalas and kangaroos. She’d been the centre of attention and she’d managed that role well. When Juliet had popped up to collect her, she’d looked through the large glass window that was decorated with paper cut-outs of snowflakes to see Bea happily playing with the other children. Juliet had been convinced earlier in the day that bringing her daughter on the trip was a terrible idea, but as she’d witnessed her smiling and happily playing despite the cast the idea had left terrible territory.
A classic Georgian property, not too far from the hospital, had been restored and refurbished as an exclusive, eleven-room boutique hotel and it would be their accommodation for a day or so until Juliet could source something more practical for the two of them. Their room was toasty warm with a large bed covered in far too many oversized pillows and the softest mattress. The warmth was created by an antique radiator and the all-white decor, complete with heavy damask drapes and matching bedspread, was elegance in abundance. She felt very spoilt as the hospital board had insisted on covering the cost of the expensive room until she secured something else, in addition to her business-class flight and that of her daughter.
Back in Perth, she lived in a small home not too far from her parents and equally close to the hospital and Pennybrook childcare centre. When she’d purchased the three-bedroom house, it had been a very practical decision. It was a nice house but not ostentatious. Understated in its exterior appearance and equally in the interior. Juliet wasn’t in love with her home but the location meant she could drop off Bea and collect her easily from childcare or her grandparents’ home. Most decisions after Bea was born were practical. And never rushed. Up until this trip, Juliet had considered and reconsidered every move she made. Although Charlie clearly thought she was a risk-taker in suggesting the surgical intervention, she thought just the opposite. She carefully weighed up the risks, and never blindly jumped into anything. She had learnt the hard way by rushing into a relationship with Bea’s father and she never planned on doing that again.
In fact, she swore on it.
* * *
The ambience of their hotel room was something Juliet loved almost immediately, along with the breathtaking scenery of the Cotswolds. It surprised Juliet that, while she had worried she would feel out of place, she quickly felt comfortable in the South Midlands of England. She was a long way from home but she didn’t feel entirely lost.
As they sat at the small mahogany card table that doubled as a dining table for two, eating their room-service dinner of a hearty beef stew and finished off with a homemade apple pie, Juliet felt as if she had been transported back to another time. Bea managed to eat her children’s size serving even with her sling in place and Juliet felt sure she would sleep well with a full tummy.
But no matter how stunning the room, Juliet had to admit the gorgeous antique bath positioned by the large bay window was completely impractical for a four-year-old with a cast. She felt so sorry for her tiny daughter as she stood her next to the porcelain wash basin and used the fluffy white washcloths to give her a freshen up. It would have been too awkward to place Bea into the free-standing and very deep bath. She needed to check the bathroom of the longer-term accommodation before she signed anything, she thought as she dried Bea and slipped her into snuggly warm pyjamas. Fortunately the pyjama top was made of a stretch knit and quite loose fitting so she could slip it over the cast. But working around her daughter’s broken arm was not how she’d seen the first day ending.
With Bea snuggled in bed after some pain relief and drifting off to sleep, Juliet ran a bath for herself.
‘Mummy,’ Bea called out sleepily across the warm room.
‘Yes, sweetie, what is it?’ Juliet asked as she took a nightdress out of her suitcase, which was open and lying alongside Bea’s. Juliet decided there was no point unpacking and using the ample white built-in wardrobe, which blended into the wall colour, or the ornately carved chest of drawers. They wouldn’t be staying long enough.
‘Why duth Grandpa call you honey and not Juliet?’
‘He’s just always called me honey since I was a little girl.’
‘Ith that becauth he’th your daddy?’
‘I guess so. It’s his special name for me because I’m his daughter and everyone else calls me Juliet.’
‘Charlie called me honey...’
Juliet stopped what she was doing. ‘When?’ she asked with a puzzled look.
‘When I fell in the playground and he picked me up. Duth that mean Charlie could be my daddy?’
Juliet felt her stomach fall and her heart race as she dropped closed her suitcase. Her fallen stomach was the reaction to the unexpected daddy question and just thinking of Charlie in the role of Bea’s father made her heart race. She swallowed a lump that had risen in her throat. Charlie’s handsome face appeared in her mind. She no longer pictured Bea’s father or even thought of him when she looked at Bea.
But now she suddenly pictured Charlie.
With legs shaking, Juliet walked back to her daughter and sat beside her, stroking her face and watching her tired eyes struggle to stay open. They were slowly closing as she kissed her gently. Juliet was trying to find the words to answer Bea. She was still too young to understand what had really happened and why she didn’t have a daddy.
‘No, my sweet, Charlie is not your daddy. But one day when you’re much bigger we can talk about your daddy.’ With that she pulled up the covers over her daughter.
‘Okay.’
‘Sweet dreams.’
As Juliet tiptoed back to the bath she heard her daughter mumble, ‘Mummy?’
‘Yes, sweetie.’
‘I think Charlie would make a nice daddy.’
Juliet felt momentarily overwhelmed. It was obvious now that her daughter missed having a father. With a heavy heart, Juliet removed the last of her clothing in the soft light of the bedside lamp and climbed into the steaming bubbles, where she remained for a good half an hour thinking about her life and about Bea’s. Her daughter’s question was spinning along with all the others she had for herself. Her mind was on overload and Bea’s innocent curiosity added another weight. While the travel was beginning to take its toll, the question of Bea’s paternity was now an issue and one that she had no idea how exactly she would answer. Soon she would want more answers. And Juliet would have to answer each and every question as honestly as she could without letting her know that her father was a cad.
Juliet’s eyes felt heavier and heavier as she reached for an oversized towel and stepped carefully from the bath. She was exhausted. Mentally and physically. It had been a whirlwind since she’d stepped off the final plane at Heathrow. Then she admitted silently the whirlwind had begun before she and Bea had even boarded the first aircraft. The push to hand over her patients at the Perth Women’s and Children’s Medical Centre in a matter of hours and packing their suitcases in tempe
ratures hovering around one hundred degrees for freezing cold weather and all the while questioning the practicalities of travelling with a four-year-old. As she dried herself and slipped the nightdress over her head she heard the soft breathing of her sleeping daughter and knew that no matter what happened or what they faced they would do it together. And they would be just fine.
Barefoot, she tiptoed over to her side of the bed, slipped in between the brushed cotton sheets, turned down her mobile phone and turned off the bedside light. Sleep overtook her the moment her head rested on the softness of the duck-down pillows.
* * *
‘Mummy, wake up! Someone’th here,’ the lispy voice announced.
Juliet opened her eyes to see Bea standing beside the bed and looking in the direction of the hotel-room door. There was firm and unrelenting knocking. Not brash but loud enough to seem urgent. Juliet climbed from her bed, kissed the top of her daughter’s head and grabbed her robe from the end of the bed where she had dropped it the night before.
‘Who is it?’
‘Charlie Warren,’ came the response, but even without his self-identification his voice told her immediately that it was him.
Juliet’s brow knitted. What on earth was he doing at her door? The heavy drapes stopped her seeing how dark or light it was outside but she imagined it was early; she felt as if she had barely been asleep.
‘Is there something wrong? Has Georgina progressed to stage five?’
‘No. Georgina’s stable but they’ve made their decision and I thought I’d let you know first-hand.’
Juliet crossed to the door, running her fingers through the messy curls. She didn’t care at that moment about her appearance. She just hoped the news was good and they had chosen surgery. She opened the door ready to ask that question when she came face to face with a vision head to toe in black leather. Suddenly she felt senses that had lain dormant for many years awaken without warning. Charlie stood before her, once again dressed in his leather riding gear, and holding his helmet in his leather-gloved hand. The same hand that had so tenderly applied Bea’s cast the day before. This was the man that called Bea honey and made her think he might be her father. The look was intoxicating and took her breath and words away but allowing him into her life scared her too.
White Christmas For The Single Mom (Christmas Miracles In Maternity #3) Page 7