‘No, it’s fine, there’s still some food in the fridge and I suspect the second your car’s off the drive Gwen’ll be round with a casserole or an apple pie to get the low-down anyway.’
He gave a wry chuckle. ‘I don’t know how you tolerate it.’
‘Oh, they mean well, and I know it seems nosey but it’s quite harmless. They’re sweet, really, and they’ve been very kind to me.’
‘Which is more than can be said for the hedge. He’s tortured it into submission.’
She laughed, and once again his eyes caught hers and she saw the heat flaring in them. This time it was him who looked away.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right if I go?’
‘Nick, I’m fine. I’m better. I’m going back to work tomorrow.’
He frowned. ‘Really? So soon? Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. I haven’t even got a headache today. And I’ll be fine. Go, get your stuff, get settled in. It’s a good idea.’
He held her eyes for a second, then nodded. ‘OK. Right, I’ll get my bag,’ he said. He ran upstairs, and she heard the slight creak of the boards as he went into the spare bedroom overhead, then moments later the stairs again as he came back down.
‘That was quick.’
‘I travel light. Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out.’
‘No. I want to give you a set of keys before you go.’
She found them in the study—his study, in the top drawer of his desk—and handed them to him. It felt weirdly symbolic.
‘So you can come and go whenever you want,’ she said. ‘No strings.’
He hefted them in his hand, met her eyes, his own unreadable again, and slipped them into his pocket.
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I should be thanking you for looking after me—’
‘It was my f—’
She cut him off, her fingers pressed over his lips. ‘No. No more blame,’ she said softly, and then she curved her hand around the back of his neck, drew his head down and kissed him.
For a second he froze, then his mouth softened, coaxing, tempting her until her lips parted to welcome him, his hand cradling her cheek as he deepened the kiss, tasting, searching, his tongue duelling with hers in a gentle, sensuous dance filled with promise.
Then he eased away, long before she was ready to let him go, opened the front door and turned on the step. ‘Don’t do anything rash, Liv,’ he said gruffly. ‘Don’t forget you’ve got concussion. The signals in the brain can be disrupted for a month.’
‘Nick, I’ll be fine. Go. And ring me when you get back.’
He opened his mouth as if he was going to argue, then gave a rueful smile and nodded. ‘Will do. Take care.’
And with a fleeting smile, he got into his car, fired up the engine and drove away.
* * *
She was on tenterhooks for the next twelve hours. Ridiculous, considering the number of times he must have been on the road in the last two years and she’d never given it a second thought.
It was different now. Now, she was letting herself care about him again, starting to forgive him—not for being unfaithful, because she’d done that long ago when she’d realised that she’d shut him out, but for letting her believe it all this time.
And she had to forgive herself, too—for making their lives a misery, for shutting him out, for putting him in a position where he’d been happy for her to think that he’d betrayed her trust because it gave him a way out of a situation that had become intolerable.
Why hadn’t they talked? Because they were talking now. They’d done little else in the past forty-eight hours, and already the wounds hurt a little less.
Like the physical ones, from Friday. Every hour saw another patch of skin go black as the bruising came out, but it looked much worse than it felt and it really didn’t hurt any more and nor did her head.
She pottered in the garden, tried a little weeding and gave up because bending over induced a headache and she didn’t want to push it, even though her concussion had only been mild. Maybe Nick was right and she should take it easy.
Her phone pinged at midnight, with a text to say he was back at Sam’s and see her tomorrow, and for the first time in hours she let herself relax.
Then on Monday morning just before eight, he rang her.
‘Are you really coming in to work?’
‘Yes, I am, but only light duties from nine to three. Are you still fretting about me?’ she asked mildly.
‘No, not at all, but I’ve put Judy on steroids. I’ve got a funny feeling about her—until we get the antiphospholipid result we won’t know why she’s had problems, but at least if the steroids have matured the baby’s lungs it’ll have more chance if we do need to deliver her in a hurry. I just thought you’d like to know.’
‘Mmm. Thanks. Poor Judy. How is she?’
‘Scared? She might appreciate a visit, if you’ve got a minute.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll drop in on her. And before you ask, no, I’m not driving, I’m going to walk in.’
‘Good,’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘I’ll see you later. Text me when you get here.’
So much for keeping their distance, she thought with a smile, but at least if they were at work there’d be no cosy moments to derail them.
* * *
To his surprise she walked onto the antenatal ward half an hour later, just as he went to check on Judy again.
‘Gosh, two of you! It’s like buses.’
‘Mine’s only a social call, Judy,’ Liv said, turning towards her. ‘I just popped up to say hi.’
‘Oh! Your eye! What have you done?’
‘Ah, yes. Minor accident on Friday.’
Nick snorted softly, and Judy glanced from him to Liv and back again, studying their nametags. ‘You’re both Jarvis,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you married, or is that just coincidence?’
He opened his mouth, looked at Liv and left it up to her.
‘We were married—and no, he didn’t hit me, it genuinely was an accident,’ she said, and gave Judy a twisted little smile.
‘Oh, gosh. Why did you let him go?’
Nick snorted again and picked up the board at the end of the bed, scanning her charts with half an eye while he waited for Liv to reply to that one.
‘Yes. Bit silly, wasn’t it?’ she said eventually, and the silence grew a little awkward.
‘Right, now we’ve established that I’m not a wife-beater, can we get back to business, please? Judy, how are you feeling?’
All trace of humour vanished from her face. ‘Worried, if I’m honest, because there’s something I didn’t tell you that maybe I should have. I’ve been taking aspirin since just before I got pregnant.’
‘Aspirin?’ he asked, frowning, and glanced at Liv, who just shrugged and looked as stunned as he felt.
‘Yes. I’ve been really worried about this APS thing but the test I had after my last miscarriage was negative so I thought I’d be all right, but then I read up about OAPS and it just seemed to fit, you know, and it said take aspirin, so I started taking it after my last period, and I don’t know if it’s coincidence but everything seemed to be going fine until I stopped—’
‘You stopped? When?’
She nodded. ‘About three weeks ago, because I was bruising so easily and I thought I might be doing more harm than good and I was a bit worried about having a haemorrhage, and it’s all gone wrong since then.’
She pressed a hand over her mouth. ‘It’s my fault, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have stopped. I should have said something.’
‘Yes, you should, because stopping it could certainly explain the baby’s slow growth in the last few weeks,’ he told her thoughtfully, ‘but taking it
could also have stopped you miscarrying in the first place, so, no, I don’t think it was the wrong thing to do, but yes, you probably should have told us because had we known I would have put you back on aspirin on Friday as a precaution.’
‘I’m so sorry—’
‘No, don’t apologise, Judy, it’s OK, because I think it’s just made everything a lot clearer, so here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to chase those results, because it’s quite possible you have got obstetric antiphospholipid syndrome, which unlike normal APS only affects you when you’re pregnant, hence the negative result before. Basically what happens is the blood clots in the capillaries in the uterine wall and can prevent implantation of an embryo, prevent the placenta developing, or cause it to fail later on, which may be what’s happening with your baby now, but if that’s what it is, it’s utterly treatable and we can stop it in its tracks, so I’m going to put you back on aspirin just to be on the safe side, and we’ll see what the results come up with and go from there. OK?’
She nodded, looking on the verge of tears. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you I’d been taking it, but I didn’t want to look hysterical. I know doctors frown on people self-medicating.’
‘There’s nothing hysterical about it, Judy, and you may have done exactly the right thing. You’ve lost three babies already, but this one’s still alive, and I’m going to make very, very sure that we do everything we can to keep it safe. OK?’
Her eyes filled, and she nodded. ‘OK. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. Let’s just hope we get some answers soon.’
Liv got to her feet. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I think there’s a stack of filing with my name on it. I’ll pop back and see you later if I get a minute, Judy.’
‘That would be lovely.’ Judy watched her walk away, then said, ‘You ought to take care of her, she shouldn’t be here, not with that eye,’ and he met her reproachful eyes over the top of the charts and felt a twinge of guilt mixed with frustration.
‘Tell me about it.’ He sighed, and hung the charts back on the end of the bed. ‘OK. I’ll chase up the results, get you some aspirin and I’ll be back later. Yell if you feel any different. They’ll page me. And don’t worry about Liv, I’m keeping an eye on her.’
‘You do that. She’s a lovely woman.’
As if he hadn’t noticed.
* * *
He appeared in the ward office some time after she started sifting through the clearly non-essential paperwork, most of which needed shredding, from what she could see.
‘Sorted Judy?’ she asked, and he nodded.
‘I wish she’d told us about the aspirin, I would have put her back on it prophylactically on Friday, but she’s on it now and hopefully it won’t be too late. Got time for coffee? I haven’t had breakfast yet and I’ve been here since seven.’
‘Yes, I’ve got tons of time,’ she said with a wry smile, getting to her feet. ‘Nobody will give me anything to do. I think they’re all terrified by the black eye, so it’s a good job they can’t see my leg.’
‘Probably, it was bad enough on Saturday and it can only be worse by now. Judy told me to take care of you, by the way, and said you shouldn’t be here with that eye. I agreed with her.’
‘Is that why nobody’ll give me anything to do except filing, because you’ve been sticking your oar in?’
‘I hardly needed to do that. One look at you is enough.’
She made a disgusted sound. ‘Whatever, I’d like to kill whoever invented filing. I’m beginning to think it’s possible to die of boredom and I’ve only been doing it for half an hour.’
He chuckled. ‘I think you’re trying to get out of a dull job.’
‘Rumbled,’ she said with a laugh, and they walked down to the café in a companionable silence.
He ordered their coffees and picked up a cereal bar and a banana. ‘Want one?’ he asked, waggling the banana at her, and she nodded.
‘Yes, please. There wasn’t much left in the house so I only had toast for breakfast. Gwen didn’t rock up with a casserole, by the way, but I did see her through the window and waved. I think the black eye might have scared her off.’
He winced. ‘Perhaps you’d better explain about the accident before Bert comes looking for me with his garden shears.’
They found a table by the window, and he sat down and stretched his legs out. ‘Before I forget, I put a food order in this morning so you’ll have something for breakfast tomorrow. It should arrive at yours this evening between six and seven. I take it you’ll be there?’
‘You ordered food for me?’ she said, puzzled.
‘Yes. Well, some staples for you to save you having to shop, but I got some stuff for us to share, as well. I thought, if we’re going to take this seriously and try and get to know each other again, maybe we should spend the evenings together when we can, and the kitchen in the cabin’s a bit basic so I thought maybe we could do it at the house? I’ll do all the cooking, so it should be easier for you, too. Unless you have any objections?’
‘No, that sounds great. Why would I object to being waited on? Did you order wine, by the way? I’m sorry I didn’t have any over the weekend.’
‘I don’t drink any more,’ he said. ‘I still have the odd glass if I’m with friends, but I never buy alcohol routinely, and I absolutely never drink on my own. And I go to the gym, and I’m running again, and I’ve cleaned up my diet—too little, too late, but…’
He tailed off, leaving her to absorb all that for a second, and she shook her head.
‘I thought you looked better,’ she said quietly. ‘Fitter. Healthier. More like the man I married—except you don’t look like the man I married, because the man I married was happy, and you’re not happy any more and that’s my fault.’
‘Liv, it’s not your fault.’
‘Yes, it is. I’ve destroyed your life, messed up your career, trashed everything, and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have believed that you’d been unfaithful to me, because it was so unlike you, but when I thought about it, it didn’t seem such a stretch to imagine that you’d turn to someone else, because you weren’t showing any interest in me by then and I couldn’t see what I had to offer you any longer. It was all so horrible—’
He gave a soft sigh, his voice quiet, his smile gentle, but he looked troubled, as if there was something he wanted to say. He didn’t, though, just took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Hey, no more, come on. This isn’t the time or the place. Let’s concentrate on the here and now—and right now, I’m operating in an hour and I haven’t gone through the notes properly yet, so I’ll take my coffee and go. You take it easy, I’ll catch you later.’
She watched him go and sat there a moment longer, soaking up the sun, but then her phone rang, making her jump. It was Sam, checking up on her and asking if she felt she needed physio.
‘No, Sam, I’m fine, but thank you. I’m back at work already.’
‘Seriously? You’ve got concussion, not to mention the bruises.’
‘Sam, I’m fine, really. And thank you for putting Nick up. It’s very kind of you. He seems really happy with the cabin.’
‘Good. You’re welcome. Sorry, I’ve got to go, I’m needed in Resus but you know where I am. Shout if you need anything and don’t overdo it.’
The phone went dead, and she slipped it into her pocket, finished her coffee and went back to the tedious filing.
Overdo it? Chance would be a fine thing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHE WAS SENT down to cover for Jan again in the antenatal clinic after lunch, and Nick took one look at her and told her to go home. ‘You’re white as a sheet and you look shattered. Go on, out of here.’
‘I’m fine. I’m only working till three. Don’t fuss. How’s Judy?’
‘OK, but she has got antiphospholipid antib
odies.’
‘So she’s definitely got OAPS?’
He gave a frustrated sigh. ‘It looks like it, and I’m kicking myself for not putting her on aspirin on Friday when I admitted her. The more I think about it, the crosser I get.’
‘Why? She’d already had a test that was negative, and Simon hadn’t picked it up.’
‘No, but his wife had just been diagnosed with cancer, so I doubt his mind was in the right place, and I wasn’t firing on all cylinders either after finding we were working together, but two wrongs don’t make a right.’
‘No, they don’t, but she’d withheld vital information, and anyway, it was a judgement call, Nick.’
‘And I made the wrong judgement. Hence the expression “human error”, but it’s unforgivable when a baby’s life’s at stake. Still, I’d admitted her and she’d been monitored so we know nothing happened over the weekend. I suppose that’s something to be thankful for. Right, Amy Zacharelli.’
She felt her eyes widen. It was Amy’s baby he’d gone to deliver by emergency C-section on the day she’d thrown him out. Of all the coincidences…
‘Amy’s pregnant again already?’
‘So it would seem.’
‘Is she going for another section?’
‘I don’t know. I’m going to talk to her now I’ve seen her latest scan images. I’m hoping not. Simon’s written “Query VBAC” in her notes, so it’s obviously been discussed. Would you like to call her in?’
‘Sure.’
She went out to the waiting room and called Amy, and a good-looking couple got to their feet. She’d never seen Amy, but she would have recognised Leo blindfolded. He was a celebrity chef, and she was a massive fan of his cookery show.
‘May I come, too?’ he asked with a coaxing smile, and she smiled back and hoped she didn’t look too fan-girly.
‘Of course, if Amy’s happy. Mr Jarvis won’t mind,’ she said as she ushered them into the consulting room.
‘Mr Jarvis?’ Amy said, and her face lit up as she saw him in there. ‘I thought you’d gone for ever.’
Midwife's Longed-for Baby & the Prince's Cinderella Bride & Bride for the Single Dad (9781488022142) Page 11