Like Doctor, Like Son

by Harlequin

  ‘Because you wanted to be a doctor,’ she said hoarsely, absurdly grateful that he had assumed that her pregnancy had been the only reason why she’d left him. ‘You needed to be a doctor, and I knew that if I told you I was pregnant, you would insist that we get married straight away.’

  ‘Of course I would,’ he retorted angrily. ‘If you remember, I’d already proposed to you. It would only have meant getting married sooner.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Quinn, be honest,’ she argued, so weary of carrying the guilt for so long. ‘It would have meant far more than that. The finances would have been crippling, for a start. If you’d had to take on the burden of a wife and family in your first year of training, you’d never have become a doctor.’

  ‘We’ll never know, will we? And all because you took it on yourself to make my decisions for me,’ he said grimly, the legs of his chair screeching as he stood, towering over her as he continued. ‘I never even got the chance to tell you that I’d enquired about joining the army. They would have paid for my training if I’d signed up to serve for so many years in return.’

  ‘The army?’ she gasped. This was the first time he’d ever mentioned the idea. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

  ‘That’s the irony of the whole damn thing, Faith,’ he said bitterly, even his footsteps sounding angry as he strode towards the door. ‘I was going to do it so that we could have got married straight away.’

  In spite of the fact that he was still angry with Faith, Quinn couldn’t stop himself caring about her and worrying about her, so he was relieved when Nadia finally persuaded her to go home to rest.

  She was obviously exhausted, her face pale and drawn and her eyes dull, but even though DJ had come through the surgery with flying colours she’d resisted for several hours.

  It wasn’t until she’d been able to sit at his bedside and hear from his own mouth that he was on the mend that she’d given in.

  Quinn had long ago phoned long-suffering Andrew Reed to ask him to organise cover for the day, promising to repay him with an extra week’s holiday by way of thanks.

  Now he was sitting by his son’s bedside, trying to understand the feelings unfurling inside him as he simply watched him sleeping off the lingering effects of the anaesthetic.

  Every so often a nurse would come in to the room to check DJ’s vital signs, but Quinn barely noticed. He was far more interested in cataloguing the minutiae that made up the unique human being that his genes had helped to create.

  How obvious it was, now that he was no longer looking through the eyes of jealousy, that DJ was far too young to be Faith’s lover. Not that he wasn’t good-looking enough for her, and he’d always seemed so very adult until fear had made him cling to his mother’s hand.

  It was amazing to realise that, even before he was seventeen, his son was nearly as tall as he was, and as for the rest of his appearance…how could he not have realised that the shape of that stubborn jaw was the same as the one he shaved every morning? And as for his eyes…

  Even as he thought about them, long dark lashes lifted and he found himself being scrutinised by a gaze every bit as green as his own.

  DJ tried to speak but all that emerged was a croak.

  ‘Water?’ Quinn offered, then gingerly supported him with an arm around his shoulders while DJ took a couple of sips through an angled straw.

  Quinn’s heart thumped unevenly with the realisation that this was the first time that he’d ever held his son. He was filled with a volatile mixture of elation that he existed at all and rage that he’d missed out on so much of his life.

  Awkwardly, he settled DJ back against his pillows then sat back in the uncomfortable moulded plastic chair, absolutely lost for anything to say.

  ‘Thanks,’ DJ croaked, his eyes clearing of their drug-induced vagueness with every second.

  ‘You’re welcome…Do you want some more?’ Quinn swore silently at the inanity of the conversation. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to know about this remarkable young man.

  ‘I meant, thanks for the blood,’ DJ said with a wry grin that reminded him painfully of a much younger Faith. ‘Mum said you bullied the staff into taking far too much.’

  Quinn had no idea how Faith had got to hear about that, but it didn’t really matter. He’d done it for his son, not for her.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said again, determined to block Faith’s betrayal out of his mind until he went home. He didn’t want anything to interfere with his first conversation with DJ. ‘I suppose it’s only fair that I should give it to you. After all, it was my fault you got such a rare blood group in the first place.’

  And just like that the topic that had consumed him ever since its shock revelation was out in the open between them.

  He paused a moment to see if DJ wanted to speak first, then couldn’t wait any longer.

  ‘How long have you known?’ he demanded, horrified to hear the vulnerability in his voice until he heard it echoed in DJ’s answer.

  ‘The same as you,’ he said simply, his throat still sounding uncomfortably scratchy. ‘When Mum said it, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought…well, you know, I was half out of it on the painkillers…I thought…perhaps I was hearing something I wanted to hear, you know, because I was afraid I was going to die…’

  Quinn didn’t want to think about just how close that had been. DJ had needed every drop of the blood he’d given by the time the courier had arrived from the transfusion service.

  ‘Faith…your mother…hadn’t told you anything about…?’ How did he finish the question? Had she told you about me, or had she told you about your father?

  ‘Just odd things when I was a kid.’ He flicked a quick glance up to meet Quinn’s eyes then looked away again, almost as if he was uncomfortable to be speaking about it.

  ‘Jeeze, this is weird!’ he muttered, and Quinn couldn’t help grinning.

  ‘I was just thinking the same thing,’ he admitted. ‘You’re probably trying to tie up the things she told you with the person sitting here.’

  ‘Well, if it makes you feel any better, she never said anything bad,’ DJ said candidly. ‘She said it wasn’t your fault that you weren’t around and that you were intelligent, good-looking, a hard worker, and you were interested in restoring old cars—but I knew most of that already.’

  Quinn was embarrassed by the fulsome praise but startled by the claim that DJ had known. Had someone else guessed who DJ’s father was? ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? I had to get some of that from you,’ he said with a straight face, then burst out laughing.

  ‘Dr Jamison!’ scolded a voice from the doorway. ‘This lad needs his sleep if he’s going to heal. If you can’t sit there quietly, I’ll have to throw you out.’

  ‘Yes, Sister,’ Quinn said meekly. ‘I’m sorry, Sister.’ And his heart nearly burst with pleasure at the guilty glance he and DJ shared and the knowledge that they obviously shared a similar sense of humour. He may have lost all those years when DJ had been a child, but he had a good feeling about the years ahead and the friendship they were already beginning to forge.

  He didn’t know if he could say the same thing about his relationship with Faith.

  He’d honestly believed that their midnight conversations had been paving the way towards something special and had hoped that this time it would be strong enough to last for the rest of their lives. Now he didn’t know what to think.

  Had it all been pretence? Surely not. She couldn’t have made love with him with such passion if she didn’t trust him with the truth, could she? Because if she didn’t trust him—if they couldn’t trust each other—there could be no future for them together.

  CHAPTER TEN

  FAITH put the phone down and resolutely turned her back on it, determined not to be tempted any further.

  Her room was so tiny that it was hard not to see it, but at least she had a roof over her head and wa
s earning enough to support herself. What would happen in a few months’ time was another matter.

  Against her will her eyes strayed back towards the phone. All day she’d wanted to call Quinn, knowing in her heart of hearts that she should tell him that he was going to be a father, but she couldn’t do it to him. All his life he’d wanted to become a doctor and he’d actually started the long slog through medical school. If she were to tell him now, she knew what he would do. He’d insist on dropping out to get a job so that he could marry her and support their child, and she would have robbed him of his dream. He had just this one chance to do it and she wasn’t going to take it away from him.

  If only her mother hadn’t been so adamant that she knew what was best for her talented daughter. Unfortunately, she’d made it very plain that it was her way or nothing, and Faith knew that for the sake of her sanity she was going to have to overcome her own hurdles and learn to make her own way in the world.

  She allowed herself just one last chance to imagine the perfect life that she and Quinn could have had—the life they’d planned while they’d been studying together, laughing together and falling fathoms deep in love—then she deliberately deposited it all in a box in the back of her mind and put a tight lid on it.

  She glanced quickly at her watch and realised that it was time to go to work again. She would have to plan a completely different future now and, whatever she did, she owed it to Quinn and his baby to succeed.

  ‘Joan, could you ask the Deans to come through, please?’ Quinn said as he separated a piece of paper out of Sara’s medical notes one-handed and read it again. After what had probably been one of the most stressful weeks of his life, it looked as if something had finally gone right. Not that he could be certain yet.

  Still, everything was set up in the small treatment room that connected with his consulting room and Ronnie was ready and waiting to do her part…

  The hesitant tap on the door heralded Sara’s arrival, closely followed by her worried husband.

  ‘You said you had the results of the tests?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘I’m beginning to feel a bit of a fraud, because in the last couple of days my appetite seems to be improving and I’ve hardly felt sick but…’

  ‘There’s just one more test to do, Sara. Just to check your tummy,’ Quinn said, sorely tempted to cross his fingers as he handed her over to Ronnie’s expertise. He was pleased to see that her husband automatically followed her into the room, protective as ever.

  He sat quietly at her side with her hand clasped tightly in his as the conductive gel was spread over her skin and the ultrasound wand was stroked back and forth.

  Quinn waited impatiently until Ronnie glanced across to nod, the gleam of pleasure clear in her eyes. As she pressed a button to print a picture of the scan he began speaking.

  ‘We took blood and urine samples when you came in the other day and when I saw the results I wanted you to have a scan before I told you the results. Sara, I’m very pleased to tell you that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, except you’re nearly three months pregnant.’

  ‘Pregnant?’ they both gasped in disbelief, even as Ronnie handed them the visual proof.

  ‘That’s the first picture to put in the photo album, but if you look over at the screen…’ she traced the area she meant ‘…you can even see the baby’s heart beating.’

  ‘But…that’s impossible,’ Sara gasped, wide-eyed, her gaze going frantically from the screen to the piece of paper in her hand almost wild with hope. ‘We had to go through three courses of IVF before we had Jamie. I can’t get pregnant.’

  ‘You try telling that to junior in there,’ Ronnie joked.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Sara begged, with tears streaming down her face. ‘I couldn’t bear it if it was all a mistake.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Ronnie said seriously, handing her a box of paper tissues. ‘That’s definitely a baby in there with all the usual complement of arms and legs and looking very healthy. Do you want me to see if I can tell whether it’s a girl or a boy?’

  ‘No!’ they both chorused without hesitation, then Sara continued. ‘If I’m really pregnant, we don’t need to know. We’ll be happy with whatever we’ve been given.’

  It was a good job that they were his last patients for the day because it took a little while for the euphoria and tears to subside. It wasn’t until they were about to leave the consulting room that Sara’s husband asked the obvious question. ‘Doctor, I still don’t understand how this could happen when we had to go through all that IVF. How can Sara have fallen pregnant so easily when it never happened before?’

  ‘If you want a straight answer, I’d have to tell you that we don’t know,’ Quinn admitted. ‘It’s so rare that it’s almost impossible, especially at Sara’s age and with the amount of scarring she has in her Fallopian tubes.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps it was just your turn to have something wonderful happen?’

  With a reminder to Sara to make an appointment at the next antenatal clinic, he waved them on their way, half-surprised that their feet were actually touching the ground.

  Their departure seemed to take all his energy with them and he sank back into his chair with a heavy sigh, feeling more than a little jealous of their happiness.

  His own life seemed to be spiralling rapidly into a pit of depression with each day that passed without speaking to Faith.

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ he muttered, knowing full well that it had been his decision to abandon their midnight conversations.

  But what else could he do?

  The Faith he’d been speaking to in the dark seclusion of her bedroom—the one he’d been getting to know and falling in love with even more deeply than before—she wasn’t the sort of person who would walk away without telling a man she was expecting his baby.

  Or was he fooling himself again? Had he ever really known her, or had he just seen her as the person he’d wanted her to be?

  He sat there with yet another variation of the same questions filling his head, trying to summon enough energy to tackle the ever-present mountain of paperwork that burdened the life of a GP, when the phone rang.

  ‘Hey!’ said a voice in his ear and the day immediately felt better. DJ obviously hadn’t decided what to call him yet, and had opted for a casual tone.

  ‘How are you doing?’ Quinn asked. He’d already spoken to the vascular surgeon today but wanted to hear DJ’s version.

  ‘I’m cool,’ he said nonchalantly, then spoiled the effect by blurting, ‘They said I can go home tomorrow, providing I promise not to do anything stupid.’

  ‘And did you promise?’ Quinn teased, knowing at first hand how DJ had been champing at the bit to get out of the hospital. Once the surgeon had declared himself happy with the way that DJ was healing, it was almost all that he’d talked about.

  ‘Of course I promised,’ DJ said, sounding as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. ‘I just need to find someone who knows about rebuilding Minis, so I won’t be tempted to sort out that jacking point myself. I’ve been trying to get it ready so I’ll be able to take it out on the road on my birthday, when I get my provisional driving licence. Once I’ve passed my test, I’ll be able to drive myself backwards and forwards to school. Anyway…’ He paused momentarily in his breathless recitation. ‘Mum organised for it to be collected from my mate’s house so it’s at the Barton now, but if I’d realised that some structural welding was needed underneath, I wouldn’t have tried to change the tyre that way and—’

  ‘All right! All right! I can take a hint!’ Quinn laughed. ‘You might have to wait a day or two until I’ve got some time off, though. My partner in the practice is still catching up on his sleep after covering for me when you were injured.’

  ‘That’ll be great! Thanks! In the meantime…’ DJ suddenly sounded hesitant—not something that happened very often, as far as Quinn could tell.

  ‘What?’ he encouraged. If there was something about his treatment that was worrying DJ…some
thing he himself could explain…

  ‘It’s just…Don’t take this the wrong way, but…Could you go up to the Barton and check up on Mum?’

  Of all the things he’d been expecting, that hadn’t even been on the list.

  ‘Look, I know the two of you aren’t exactly on speaking terms,’ DJ continued, forcing Quinn to realise that he hadn’t answered. ‘And I realise that it could take a long time before you can forgive her for not telling you about me…’

  Quinn felt a sudden pang of guilt. He’d been so busy nursing his self-righteous anger that he hadn’t stopped to think about how it would be affecting DJ. Had he been making his son feel uncomfortable—as if he was piggy-in-the-middle between the two of them?

  ‘Why would you want me to go up to the Barton?’ he challenged, suddenly wondering if there was another, more subtle agenda. Was DJ trying his hand at matchmaking? He’d known several children who had tried the same game with divorced or separated parents, usually with disastrous results. It was safer for him to stay well away until he got his emotions under control. ‘Your mother doesn’t need me checking up on her. She’s got Molly and Nadia.’

  ‘That’s just it—she hasn’t!’ he exclaimed. ‘Molly went away to help her sister after her hip replacement and she was supposed to return before Nadia left to go on holiday, but she’s been delayed. Nadia was determined to postpone her trip but Mum insisted she needed the time away to unwind as they’re due to start organising the next concert as soon as she returns.’

  ‘It sounds as if your mother would rather have some time on her own, in which case she won’t want me to go barging in.’

  ‘Probably not, but…’ He sighed, the sound travelling clearly down the line. ‘Well, the Barton’s such a huge place and I’m not certain that the security’s terribly good and…well, I know the cleaning staff will be there in the morning and I’ll be there as soon as they let me out of here but…but I was just worried about her being there all on her own, you know?’

  Part of Quinn was cheering at the prospect of seeing Faith again, even if it was only for the length of time it took for her to send him away, but the other part, the portion that contained his bruised heart, was more cautious.