by Kate Hardy
‘You think I’m that awful?’
His voice was even, not outraged, and she realised she’d hurt him. She stroked his cheek. ‘No. Just that you haven’t really accepted the…situation.’ Oh, God. He had her at it now, avoiding the B-word.
‘It’s been hard for me,’ he admitted.
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘About what?’
‘Whatever’s on your mind.’ She ran her hand down his side. ‘You’re all tense.’
‘It’s my new job—my new boss. I have to wait on this woman hand and foot and she’s terribly demanding—runs me ragged,’ he said lightly.
But she knew he was trying to tease her, change the subject. This time, she had a feeling it was important. That it was time to push. She stroked his hair back from his forehead. ‘Tell me,’ she said softly.
He sighed. ‘I don’t know whether to or not. I don’t want to upset you.’
She went very still. ‘You’re involved with someone else?’
‘No, of course not.’ He sighed again. ‘Just don’t take this the wrong way.’
She was really worried now. She needed to know. ‘Tell me.’
‘Two years ago, I was engaged. To Natalie. I’d known her since I was a student. We worked together for a while—she was a meteorologist, too. Then I had the chance to go to Antarctica for six months to expand on the research I’d done for my PhD.’
She stared at him. ‘You’ve got a doctorate?’ And he’d never told her. He didn’t use his title, either, because any letters delivered for him had been addressed to Mr Holland, not Dr Holland.
‘It’s irrelevant.’
Yes, and she didn’t want to distract him. ‘OK. Go on.’
‘I talked it over with Natalie, and she said I should go—it was the perfect opportunity and it’d be good for my career. It was only for six months and although we’d miss each other, we’d cope.’
His eyes had gone dark, haunted, and there were lines etched into his face. Painful memories, Jane guessed.
‘I’d been at the base for a month when Natalie called me. She told me we were going to have a baby. I guess we got a bit carried away on my last night in England. We hadn’t planned it to happen.’
‘And you hated the idea of being tied down?’ Was this what it was all about? He already had a child he never saw?
He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t that at all. We were getting married anyway—the church was booked for the month after I came back from Antarctica. So it didn’t matter—maybe I could get leave and we could bring the wedding forward, or we could put it back until after the baby arrived. I thought we had plenty of time to decide what we wanted to do. And the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of being a dad. I was twenty-eight. Just about ready to settle down and start a family.’
He wore no wedding ring and he lived out of a suitcase, not with his wife and toddler—so clearly something had gone badly wrong. Had Natalie found someone else while he was in Antarctica? Had she been unable to put up with all the travelling and divorced him?
A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘Three weeks later…’ His voice was raw with pain. ‘Three weeks later, my mum called me. Natalie was dead.’
It was the last thing Jane had expected. ‘What? Oh, Mitch. I…’ Her voice tailed off and she shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Sorry wasn’t enough. It wasn’t anywhere near enough. All she could do was hold him. Let him know that she was there for him.
‘I haven’t finished yet.’
There was more?
His breath hitched. ‘It seemed she had an ectopic pregnancy. It ruptured her Fallopian tube. And she died on the operating table.’
‘Oh, my God.’ No wonder he’d acted the way he did. Her news must have brought it all back to him. The way he’d felt on discovering that the woman he loved was expecting his child. The joy of learning that they’d made a new life together. And then the nightmare when it had all gone so badly wrong.
And no wonder he’d come straight back from America when Hannah had told him she was in hospital after a bleed. A placental abruption wasn’t the same thing as an ectopic pregnancy, but it carried similar dangers. And both involved bleeding.
‘Mitch, I…’ Her voice faded. What could she say to him? He’d lost everything. Nothing would make that all right. Nothing at all.
‘Oh, it gets worse,’ he said, his voice bitter. ‘There was a blizzard—a bad one. I couldn’t leave the base until it had stopped. It was too dangerous for a pilot to bring a plane in, and there wasn’t a chance in hell of getting off the base any other way. I was willing to walk it, but my boss pointed out that he wasn’t prepared to send any of the team with me or the dogs, and if I went alone they’d end up having to send a search party to find me—I’d be risking other people’s lives.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘I had enough blood on my hands already. So what could I do but stay put? We were stuck there for days. And I didn’t even manage to make it home for the funeral. I couldn’t pay her the tribute she deserved.’ His eyes glittered. ‘I can’t forgive myself for that.’
‘It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t get back. You were snowed in. And it wasn’t your fault that Natalie died.’
‘If I’d been in England, instead of in Antarctica, I would’ve been with Natalie when she felt the first pain. I would’ve driven her to hospital. And it would’ve been early enough to save her.’
‘I didn’t know her, so I can’t say anything meaningful,’ Jane said. ‘But I’m sorry you had to go through something so painful. And I’m sorry that I’ve reopened the wounds.’ It explained why he chased storms, too. The risks wouldn’t mean anything to him. Not after what had happened. He didn’t care about anything, any more. Didn’t want to let himself care, in case he lost everything all over again.
‘It’s not your fault. But when you told me you were pregnant, it brought everything back. I just…shut off.’
To stop himself hurting. To keep the memories and the pain from drowning him.
Now she knew about his past, she could understand why he’d reacted that way. At the time she’d thought it was because he was too selfish to care; now she knew it was because he cared too much. And because he was terrified the nightmare might happen again.
‘So now you know the truth. I’m sorry. I know I haven’t behaved the way I should’ve done. I’ve been running away instead of supporting you. Sticking my head in the sand and pretending it isn’t happening.’
‘Refusing to discuss the baby or make plans.’
‘I made plans last time. I was going to try to cut my project short so I could be there for all the antenatal appointments. I spent all my free time on Internet sites about pregnancy and baby names. I planned how I was going to paint the nursery. This time, I didn’t want to do anything. In case I jinxed…’ He dragged in a breath, clearly not wanting to say it aloud. ‘And when Hannah called me…’
He’d been reminded of what had happened to Natalie. Worried that it was going to happen all over again. And since his first reaction had been to drop everything and come to her side…then maybe there was hope. Despite the barriers he’d tried to put up, he cared. So maybe he wasn’t going to keep going away and putting distance between them.
‘It’s all right,’ she said softly. ‘Everything’s going to be just fine. We’ll get through this. Together.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE following day, Mitch finally allowed Jane to get up—just for the morning—but he still didn’t let her do anything in the flat.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she said. ‘I hardly even know what day it is.’ Then she looked at the calendar. ‘Ah.’
‘What?’
‘I’m due at the hospital tomorrow.’
‘A follow-up from last week?’
‘No.’ She took his hand and squeezed it. Smiled at him. ‘I’m going to ask you something now. Will you come with me?’
‘To the appointment?’
‘It’s the scan,’
she said. ‘And the kind of scan they do at London City General is the three-D one.’
‘Three-D?’
‘The one I sent you a photograph of—from the dating scan—was a two-D scan. Just a side-on view. But this one’s a lot more detailed. It means,’ she said softly, ‘you actually get to see our baby’s face.’
Panic skittered over his expression.
‘Look, I know you don’t want to make plans. And I know why, so I’m not going to push you any more about painting a nursery and picking names and what have you. But it would mean a lot to me if you came with me to the scan.’
‘Part of me wants to. But part of me doesn’t. I’m not rejecting you or the baby, I swear I’m not.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘This just scares the hell out of me. If I let myself love this baby, if I let myself think about the future…what if it all goes wrong again?’
‘Nobody can guarantee everything’s going to work out. But you have to believe, Mitch. See the glass as half full. And think about it. The chances of something going wrong, weighed against the chances of everything being fine—the odds are in our favour.’
‘I know. Intellectually, I know that. But there’s a world of difference between what I know in my head and the way I feel,’ he admitted.
‘Then that’s even more of a reason to come to the scan. So you can see for yourself that everything is fine.’
He sighed. ‘I’ll think about it, OK?’
It was frustrating, but she decided to stop pushing; if she insisted now, she knew it’d make him back away again. Hopefully if he thought about it he’d realise she was right. He’d come to the scan. And then—please, then—he’d finally be able to bond with their baby.
Mitch drove Jane to the hospital, the following day. Taking her to hospital wasn’t obliging him to going into the scan with her—to taking that last step of commitment. She hadn’t asked him again, so he knew she wouldn’t push.
He also knew she’d be hugely disappointed if he waited for her outside. And he’d already disappointed her enough in this pregnancy. But he still couldn’t get past the fear. The conviction that if he bonded with this baby, if he risked giving his heart again, everything would all go wrong again.
He parked the car and walked into the clinic with her. He waited while she was weighed and gave a urine sample; and although the waiting was interminable, the only magazines around were pregnancy magazines. Which he most definitely didn’t want to read.
He glanced around the waiting room. How could the other fathers-to-be look so calm? Or were they, like him, outwardly quiet and serene and inwardly in turmoil? Panicking that they’d lose their partner or the baby?
And the fear rising in him wasn’t just because of what had happened to Natalie. Jane’s pregnancy hadn’t exactly been problem-free. And although she was planning to go back to work later in the week, doing a half-day on Thursday and Friday to ease herself back in, he still worried. What if she had another abruption? A worse one?
It had been a mistake, looking up those medical sites. At three in the morning, unable to sleep and too tired to resist the lure, he’d looked up the condition and read the details. And his breathing had grown shallower and shallower as he’d realised what the complications could be. What the risks were.
He hadn’t told Jane about it. And maybe he should’ve talked to Hannah, who might’ve been able to reassure him a bit, but no way could he have discussed it when Jane might overhear. She really didn’t need that extra worry.
And then the radiographer called her name. ‘Jane Redmond.’
This was it.
Crunch time.
Because once he’d walked through that door, there was no turning back. Even though he’d seen the picture Jane had sent him of the earlier scan, this time he’d see the baby on screen, moving as if a real person. And it wouldn’t be just abstract any more. Wouldn’t be the bump, something he could just not look at and pretend wasn’t really there. It would be their baby.
Jane said nothing, just looked at him and waited to see if he’d stand up.
When he didn’t, she said nothing, but her eyes were full of hurt. And her voice was cool when she said, ‘I’ll see you later, then.’
She was almost at the door when he caught her up. ‘Jane.’
‘What?’
He laced his fingers through hers. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being an idiot.’
‘Yes, you are.’ Her voice was brisk but her eyes were suspiciously bright when he walked into the ultrasound room with her.
She lay back on the couch while the radiographer spread gel on her stomach. The scanner head picked up the signals and relayed them to the screen—and then he was looking at their child.
It was a two-dimensional black and white image, grainy but still recognisably a baby. He could see a head, arms, legs. Although the radiographer was talking and pointing things out, he wasn’t really listening to what she was saying: all he could do was stare at the screen. At the baby.
‘Mitch. Mitch.’
There was a hard jab in his side, and he glanced at Jane. ‘Hmm?’
She nodded at their joined hands. ‘You’re hurting me.’
He hadn’t even realised he was holding her hand that tightly, but his knuckles were white and he was clearly gripping her hand way too hard. He released her hand immediately. ‘Sorry. I…’ He dragged in a breath. ‘Jane. That’s our baby.’
‘Uh-huh.’
He looked at the radiographer. ‘Is everything all right? It’s just this last week, with Jane being on bedrest and…’
‘Everything’s fine. I’ve checked the placenta and there’s no sign of any further abruptions,’ she reassured him, ‘and the baby’s growth is exactly on track. I was just saying to Mrs Redmond, there aren’t any abnormalities in the heart or the brain or any of the other organs, there’s no gap in the spine, and there are ten fingers and ten toes, so you can just relax and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy.’ She smiled. ‘You have a perfectly healthy baby, Mr Redmond.’
He didn’t bother correcting her that his surname was Holland and that Jane wasn’t Mrs anything; the names were irrelevant. The news, on the other hand, made him feel as if he were walking on air.
Everything was all right.
‘Would you like to know the baby’s sex?’ the radiographer asked.
He looked at Jane. ‘Do you?’
‘If you do.’
He did, but he’d let her deal with most of her pregnancy alone, so far. He wasn’t going to wade in and start throwing orders around. He needed to consider what she wanted. ‘No, this is your choice.’
‘Then, yes, I would like to know.’
‘I’m delighted to tell you that you have a little girl,’ the radiographer said with a smile.
‘A little girl.’ The words barely managed to get past the lump in his throat. ‘Chloë,’ he whispered.
‘Now we’ve done the foetal anomaly scan, we can do the three-D option.’ The radiographer flicked a switch, and suddenly the image changed. Became clearer. In colour.
Mitch was looking straight into the face of his little girl.
And she was smiling at him.
‘She…she looks like you,’ he said to Jane. ‘But I think she’s got my nose.’
His voice was full of wonder, and when Jane looked at Mitch she could see him blinking back the tears.
Pushing him into coming with her had been the right thing, after all.
Because now, finally, he was bonding with their baby—and everything was going to be all right.
The baby was sucking her thumb, now. Mitch looked at the radiographer. ‘Is it possible to have a photograph, please?’
‘And a DVD—that’s what we call a four-D option. The fourth dimension is time, so you can see the baby moving. We put still pictures onto the DVD, as well.’
‘This is amazing.’ He shook his head. ‘I take photographs for a living. Photographs of storms. They’re powerful and energising and it’s an incredible feeling, chasing a tor
nado and being part of something so elemental. But this…this is way beyond that.’
He stared at the screen, transfixed; throughout the rest of the scan, he was absolutely silent. Jane held his hand; his fingers tightened round hers, but this time not to a painful extent. And when the scan ended, he gently took a paper towel and wiped the gel from her stomach. Caressed the bump. And his eyes were very, very bright as he smiled at her.
The radiographer gave them their DVD and a folder of photographs, and they left; Mitch kept his arm round Jane all the way out of the hospital.
‘That was just…’ He shook his head, clearly lost for words. ‘Our baby.’
She remembered the name he’d whispered to the screen. ‘You want to call her Chloë?’
‘It was just the first name that popped into my head.’
One he’d chosen before, with Natalie? Or had he, despite the fact he’d tried to block out what was happening, subconsciously been thinking about names?
‘Chloë’s fine by me. Though I think maybe we should include our mums’ names as middle names,’ she added.
‘Fine. That’s fine.’ He stopped, and turned her to face him. ‘Jane. Now I know everything’s OK, I’m taking you somewhere.’
‘Where?’
‘Sussex.’
She looked at him. ‘Why Sussex?’
‘It’s where my family lives.’
He was taking her to meet his family? She’d wanted that for so long—but she hadn’t prepared for meeting them. Panic flared through her. ‘We can’t just turn up unannounced!’
‘We’re not going to. I’ll call my mother and check they’re going to be there before we go. Though as far as I know they’re not away, and it’s the school holidays so she should be there.’ He smiled at her. ‘We won’t stay long. Lunch out, a walk on the beach, drop in to see them, and then back to London.’
She couldn’t quite focus on what he was saying. ‘Isn’t it going to be a shock for your parents, meeting me and seeing…?’ She indicated the bump.