‘I might sell my apartment,’ she told Alex a few days later. ‘It’s not big enough for more than one person, even if the other person is very small.’
‘Where are you thinking of moving to?’
‘I was talking to Dad about it last night. Phil was right, he’s surprisingly OK with the idea of becoming a grandfather.’
‘And?’ Alex sounded suspicious. ‘You’re not planning on moving back home to take advantage of babysitting services, are you?”
‘I’m thinking about it.’
‘Living with your father? What happened to the “I’m never going to get married because I don’t want to live with men and have them controlling my life” stance?’
The challenge in his tone irked Sam. ‘Why would it bother you if I did move in with my father?’
‘It would make it a bit difficult for me to visit, wouldn’t it?’
‘I don’t see why. Dad met you at that police Christmas party last year. I think he quite likes you. When he knows you’re the father of his grandchild, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to have you visit.’
‘Overnight? I doubt it.’
When had the ‘no-strings’ relationship taken on such a long-term hue? Sam found herself backing off from the conversation fast. This was a place she didn’t want to go.
‘It’s only an idea. Anyway, we were thinking of swapping houses, not living together.’
‘Oh. That’s all right, then.’
Except it wasn’t all right. The alarm bells were going off too loudly to ignore now. Alex seemed determined to find—and set off—numerous tripwires.
‘Have you told them yet?’ he asked at work the next day. About needing maternity leave and so on?’
‘No. I told you, Alex, I’m not going to do anything until I’m past the first trimester. I discussed it with my GP and she says it’s fine to carry on as normal for now.’
‘And she knows you dangle out of helicopters and crawl into car wrecks?’
‘I’m no more likely to injure myself now than I have been for the past five years. I could have an accident at home just as easily. I’m careful. It wasn’t me that broke my back, remember?’
‘You’re at least ten weeks now. You’ll be into the second trimester in no more than three weeks. That’s not giving much notice.’
‘I could resign completely with only two weeks’ notice. Get off my back, Alex. I’m doing this my way.’
The discussion about day care-centres only two days later was the last straw. The subject came up as they drove past the colourful fence of a well-known chain of such centres in the city.
‘I don’t like them,’ Alex stated. ‘Not for babies. They’re a hotbed for infectious diseases and the kids can’t possibly get anything like the level of attention they’d get from their mothers. It can’t be good for them.’
‘So you’ve got a degree in child psychology tucked away, have you, Alex?’
Alex slowed down as the traffic built up. ‘Look, I’m not suggesting you never use a day-care centre. I just don’t think they’re ideal. Maybe they’re OK for most kids and I know some mothers don’t have a choice about going back to work as soon as possible.’
‘But I do?’
‘Yes. You’ve said so yourself, Sam. You’re financially secure. I’m happy to help out if you want to stay home a bit longer.’
‘Just how long did you have in mind, Alex?’
‘Oh, I dunno. A year, maybe?’
It was what she had feared would happen all along.
Why hadn’t she listened to those first warnings her brain had issued? Way back, when the idea of using Alex as a father had first popped into her consciousness? Before her brain had got addled by what he was capable of doing to her body?
Sam was in imminent danger of losing her hard-won independence. She was going to get all the disadvantages of being married without any of the benefits. She could be certain that Alex’s overnight visits would cease pretty smartly once there was a crying infant to interrupt the adult playtime. And what new mothers had the energy for wild sexual encounters anyway?
It was time to pull the plug. She should have done it when she had read the positive result of that pregnancy test. She hadn’t been able to summon the willpower then but it would be easy now. The warning signals that Alex intended to play an active role in any decision-making regarding his child were too strong to ignore, and the longer she allowed him to be such a big part of her life outside work, the worse it was going to get.
They had given their ‘no-strings’ relationship a fair trial. It wasn’t working. Alex had said himself that they could stop any time either of them wanted to, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, should it?
Sam wanted to stop.
Alex didn’t.
‘What do you mean, “It’s over”?’
‘Our fling, Alex. The affair. The “no-strings” relationship or whatever you want to call it. I want to stop. I need my own life back again.’
Alex shook his head in bewilderment. He hadn’t seen this coming. Things had been bound to finish some time, of course. They always did, but Alex had assumed that he would be the one to finish it. Like always. And he hadn’t even started to think like that. The degree of shock he was feeling right now made him wonder if he would ever have got round to thinking like that.
He’d never been on this side of the fence before and he had a sudden sympathy with all the women who’d done their best to tie him down in the past. What the hell had he done that was so wrong? Nothing in bed, he was quite confident about that. It couldn’t be that he hadn’t gone along with the stupid idea of giving birth to the accompaniment of moaning sea mammals. Sam wasn’t that silly. Or was she? Pregnant women could get some funny ideas, couldn’t they?
‘Look, Sam, if you really want to have the kid in a bath, I’m OK with it. Honest.’
The look he received could only be described as withering. ‘That’s big of you, Alex.’ Sam continued scanning the shelves of the stockroom. They were supposed to be in here checking supplies at the end of a quiet shift. ‘We’re getting low on giving sets and saline.’
Alex made a note on the order form. ‘I don’t see what the problem is,’ he said a minute later. The prospect of endless nights that he wasn’t going to be sharing with Sam were looming larger in his head by the second. Clouding his thoughts. Getting steadily darker. And what about the times out of bed? Sharing the meals and the cooking. Time with the baby. Time to talk. Just…time—with each other.
Sam shoved the high-concentration oxygen masks back into their box and sighed. ‘ You’re the problem, Alex.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I told you how much I wanted a baby, remember?’
‘How could I forget? I also seem to remember making it possible for you.’
‘Yes, you did, and I’m very grateful, but I also told you that I wanted to bring it up by myself.’
‘I’m not stopping you.’
‘You’re trying to control how I do it. You want a say in where and how it gets born. Whether or not it goes to a daycare centre before it gets old enough to go to school. My decisions, Alex. My baby.’
‘ Our baby.’ Those dark clouds had sudden flashes of lightning in them. Alex wasn’t going to let her assume complete ownership. This was his baby as well. Not only was he completely used to the idea of being a father now, he was looking forward to it. Of course he wanted what was going to be best for the kid. What father wouldn’t? ‘What’s so wrong with being interested?’ he demanded. ‘Supportive even?’
‘You’re too interested,’ Sam responded promptly. She gave up counting the nebuliser masks and turned to face him. ‘You only wanted to be a part-time dad, remember? Go to birthday parties. Tell it stories of your wonderful adventures when it’s older. Have some weekend visits maybe.’
‘Some weekend visits? Maybe?’ He was being pushed out of more than Sam’s bed here. He was being thoroughly dumped. Well, he wasn’t going
down without a fight. ‘Not good enough, Sam. Sorry.’
She folded her arms. ‘And what would be good enough for you, Alex? Taking over night feeds? Changing endless nappies? Strolling arm in arm around the park while we take turns pushing the pram?’
Dammit, it sounded fine to him.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘It’s not going to happen,’ Sam snapped. ‘You’ve got some weird idea that we have a real relationship going here.’
‘We do.’
‘No, we don’t. You were obliging enough to father my child and we’ve kept on—for a lot longer than we should—having some pretty good sex. That’s it.’
‘“Pretty good sex”?’
Sam had the grace to flush as she looked away. She fiddled with the packets of nasal cannulae. ‘OK. Really good sex.’ She glanced back at Alex. ‘Oh, all right, then,’ she muttered ungraciously. ‘Great sex. Happy now?’
‘No.’
‘Well, what’s going to make you happy, Alex? Shall we get some kind of legal agreement drawn up regarding access?’
‘No.’
‘I think it might be a good idea to do something legal.’ Sam’s chin was raised defiantly. ‘We don’t want to keep arguing about this.’
‘No,’Alex agreed. ‘And I think you’re right. We should do something legal.’
Sam looked relieved. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘Let’s get married.’
Where in heaven’s name had that suggestion sprung from? The words had come out of his own mouth but they stunned Alex as much as they had clearly stunned Sam. He recovered remarkably quickly in the short silence that fell, however.
He had a good reason to seriously consider marriage for the first time, didn’t he, with a child on the way? And he’d always admired Sam. They were an amazing team when they worked together and they had, quite unexpectedly, found they were also a spectacular combination in bed. It was just a shame that Sam was so stubborn when it came to any kind of a personal compromise.
She was shaking her head slowly now. ‘You have got to be joking.’
‘Why? We get on OK. We like each other, don’t we?’
‘That’s hardly enough of a basis for marriage, Alex.’
‘Better than not liking each other. We have great sex and we’re both going to be parents. Of the same baby. It’s sensible.’
‘Sensible?’
‘We’ll probably have to iron out a few kinks here and there,’ Alex conceded, ‘so we don’t end up arguing too much, but I’m prepared to try if you are.’
Sam was staring at him with a peculiar expression on her face.
‘I don’t want to get married, Alex. To anyone. And even if I did, that would have to be the worst proposal a woman could ever have. I suggest you brush up on your technique if you ever find someone you really do want to marry.’
His offer was being rejected. Sam actually looked furious that he’d made it at all. He was good enough to father her kid but not good enough for anything more, huh? Alex had never been dumped by a woman. He’d just made his first ever proposal of marriage and he’d been practically laughed at. This was just plain…unacceptable.
He glared at Sam.
Sam glared right back at Alex. She wasn’t going to be the first to break the eye contact either. No way. She was fighting for her independence here. The right to choose how she lived her life. How she brought up her own child.
She was in danger of losing everything because a part of her wanted nothing more than to have Alex in her life to an even greater degree than the ‘no-strings’ relationship had provided. Sam knew she was in danger of falling for her partner and how disastrous would that be? She would become emotionally dependent on a man who had made it very, very clear that he never wanted permanence.
He was offering marriage on the basis of liking her? How far would that carry them? A year, maybe two? There was no future in being with someone who merely liked you. She would end up giving too much. She could remember what it had been like as a child, desperate to replace the bond she was missing with her mother. If she strove for a closer bond with Alex, she would end up as dependent on him as their child would be, and in the end they would both be hurt.
It was something Sam wasn’t going to risk for herself so there was no way she would consider risking the same hurt for her baby. Maybe the protection she was determined to offer her child was going to start a lot earlier than she had realised.
But it wasn’t going to be easy. The strength and confidence of her partner had always been an admirable feature when it came to working with Alex but suddenly he had morphed into a powerful adversary. He wasn’t about to roll over and submit to anything he strongly disagreed with.
Fighting with Alex was never something Sam had wanted to do. This was horrible. Frightening, even. Or was that infuriating?
Too many years of being dominated by a household of men stiffened Sam’s spine automatically. She wasn’t going to be treated like a child again and have what she most wanted laughed at or simply overridden.
‘You’re a girl, Sambo. You can’t do that.’
What would it be from Alex?
‘You’re a mother, Sam. You can’t do that. You can’t work full time. You can’t live there. You can’t…’
‘You can’t shut me out like this, Sam.’ His words were an eerie continuation of her thoughts. ‘I won’t let you.’
‘You can’t stop me.’
‘You’re having my baby.’ The words were quiet. Dangerously controlled. ‘I have a right to be involved and to have a say in some things.’
‘Such as?’ Sam bit out the words and had to look away from the flash of hurt she saw in Alex’s eyes. Dammit, he’d won the eye-contact competition.
That had always signalled victory for her father or brothers.
‘Such as how long you carry on working. You’re taking a risk, Sam. You know you are.’
‘That’s my choice.’
‘I think you’ll find most people would agree with me. You may not like the reaction you get when everyone knows the risks you’re taking.’
‘They don’t have to know until I’m ready to stop working.’
‘I’m not sure I want to keep it a secret any longer. Maybe I want people to know about us. About our baby.’
Sam only really heard the first part of Alex’s statement. She had to think fast about the potential implications. Alex was right. Once word got out, things could change drastically. What if management decided she should be taken off active duty immediately? Or if their pilot, Terry, had reservations about flying a pregnant woman off to what he considered to be a dangerous mission? If Tom or Angus or any of the other team members started looking at her as though she was some kind of monster mother? And what if she carried on to prove her independence and something did happen?
Her working life would never be the same. She had to defuse the weapon that premature exposure represented or take it out of Alex’s hands somehow. It was too powerful. Her response had been honed in years of scrapping at home and in the schoolyard. Attack was the only form of defence sometimes.
Her snort was scathing. ‘Oh, I see. You want to get one up on the rest of the team, do you, Alex? Be the first to prove your virility?’
‘What?’ Alex snorted right back at her. ‘Why don’t you want anyone to know, Sam? Scared of proving you’re not one of the boys?’
Sam gritted her teeth. She clenched her fists. She was so angry she couldn’t think of a suitable response.
‘What’s so wrong with being a woman, Sam? A mother. A wife even.’Alex sounded tired rather than angry suddenly.
‘There’s nothing wrong with being a woman. Or a mother. There’s no rule that says I have to be a wife.’
‘If there was, you’d find some way to break it. You seem to have a problem relating to men,’ Alex informed her. ‘We’re OK if you’re on our playing field but we’re not allowed to step onto yours unless we do exactly what you say. And there I was thinkin
g that you’d be a perfect mother.’
That stung.
‘Well, there you go. Aren’t you glad I didn’t jump at the chance to be your wife?’ Of course he would be. Men like Alex didn’t want marriage. All that Alex wanted was to lay public claim to their child.
‘Yeah.’ Alex handed the order form to Sam and turned away. ‘I am.’
They barely spoke to each other on their next shift. Or the one after that. Minimal verbal contact that enabled good care of their patients and that was it. The standoff was easy enough to maintain out in the field, especially in the noisy confines of the helicopter, and a long trip to the coast to pick up an accident victim with a shattered pelvis took up most of the first day, but it was much harder when they were back on Base.
No secret looks now. Any touch was totally accidental and made them both jump as though they’d been shot. Sam waited in trepidation for a sign that Alex had been broadcasting the news that he was going to be a father but nothing happened. There were no phone calls from the operations manager requesting an interview and no funny looks or comments from Terry or any of the other men.
It was an unpleasant working environment nonetheless, and Sam was grateful for the arrival of her days off. Days all to herself to do exactly what she wanted.
Boring, lonely days.
And long, empty nights.
Days and nights when Sam couldn’t stop thinking about Alex. Going over and over the fight they’d had. Reassuring herself that her fears had been justified. That she’d done the right thing in pushing him away. That he’d get over being so angry and hurt and they’d go back to their friendship.
Their more than friendship. That ‘best friend with attitude’ type of relationship they’d had before any of this had started.
Except it could never be the same because Sam now knew what it was like to be really close to Alex. To be held in his arms. To experience the heady delights of his love-making or to be simply cradled while she slept.
She missed him.
When the tears started, some time in the middle of the night of her last day off, Sam initially blamed her uncharacteristic self-pity on tiredness. And then she put it down to an hormonal imbalance due to pregnancy.
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