One Night, One Baby

by Kate Hardy

  ‘Why is obvious. When—the day after you left. And I didn’t tell you because you didn’t tell me you were on your way back. I didn’t want a long-distance row with you, but I had intended to tell you before you got to the flat.’

  She was calling it ‘the flat’ again, he noticed. Not ‘our flat’.

  ‘I don’t understand why,’ he said. ‘We need to talk. I’m coming over.’

  ‘I don’t want a fight, Mitch.’

  ‘Neither do I!’

  ‘Then stop shouting at me.’

  Was he? He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise I was. It’s just…I was looking forward to coming home. To you. And you moved out without even telling me.’

  ‘I’ll come over now,’ Jane said. ‘We’ll talk. But I want you to be very clear about one thing: I won’t be staying.’

  He was still brooding when she rang the bell.

  ‘Why didn’t you use your key?’ he demanded.

  ‘Because I don’t live here any more. But thanks for reminding me.’ She rummaged in her handbag, took out her keychain and removed the front-door key; then she handed it back to him. ‘Yours.’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s not meant to be like this. I don’t understand what went wrong.’

  She sighed. ‘Let’s sit down.’

  ‘Do you need a drink or anything?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  He was so tense he could barely sit still. But he managed it. Just. ‘So explain to me. I thought everything was OK.’

  ‘I’ve had a lot of time on my own to think about things. About the baby, about how I want my life to be.’ She looked him straight in the eye, and the sheer sadness in her face gave him a pain in the centre of his chest. ‘This isn’t it, Mitch. I don’t want to spend all my time waiting for you to come back from chasing a storm.’

  When he was about to protest, she held up a hand. ‘Hear me out. You know how I grew up. I love my parents, and I know they love me—but their work always came first. Always. They took Alex and me with them a lot at first, but then they sent us both to boarding-school. And, yes, it made me sensible and self-reliant and all that jazz, and, yes, I’m ridiculously proud of them because they’re brilliant—but just sometimes it would’ve been nice to have a normal home. To be a normal teenager, squabbling with my parents over my hair and my clothes and the fact I was wearing way too much make-up and how loudly I played my music. I wanted a normal life with a normal family, Mitch. I still do. And I won’t get that with you.’

  ‘Yes, you will.’ His hand closed round the velvet box in his pocket.

  ‘Mitch, you say that now. But I know how it is. You’ll be here for a while, and then you’ll get itchy feet and you’ll be off again.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I’m not going to ask you to give up your job—I know how much it means to you and I know it’s who you are. My brother Alex is the same as you—but I’m not. I want to be in one place. I want to be settled.’ She took a deep breath. ‘The baby’s the most important thing to me, now. I don’t want her to grow up the way I did, either tagging along behind us while you’re chasing some storm or other, or stuck at home with me and hating the fact she almost never sees her dad.’

  No, no, no. It wasn’t going to be like that. His grip on the box tightened, but he knew now wasn’t the right time to ask her to marry him. Because she’d say no. And he needed her to say yes.

  ‘Jane, of course she’ll see me,’ Mitch said.

  ‘When you’re in the country. Which isn’t that much. It’s not the same as being a full-time dad, Mitch. I want a proper home for my baby. Somewhere settled. Not running after you, or coping on my own. That’s why I moved back with the girls. Having three godmothers around is going to be much better for me and for the baby. I’ll have support when I need it. And my baby’s going to have all the love she could ask for.’

  ‘You don’t have to cope on your own. I’ll be here.’

  She shook her head. ‘You won’t. And if you give everything up you’ll get bored. You’ll miss the adrenalin rush. You’ll miss the buzz of chasing the storms and taking your incredible pictures.’

  He ignored her, focusing on the rest of her previous statement. ‘And I’ll give my baby all the love she needs.’

  ‘That’s a knee-jerk reaction. It’s better this way—better all round. You won’t feel tied down or trapped.’

  ‘So what are you saying? That it’s over? That I won’t see…’ his mouth dried ‘…you or the baby again?’

  ‘No. Of course you’ll see the baby when you’re home. I’d never deny you access. Or your parents—I’d like my baby to know her grandparents, too.’ She frowned. ‘But if you really want the safety net of a legal agreement I’m happy to sort that out.’

  ‘But, Jane—’ He took the box out of his pocket.

  She wasn’t even looking. ‘No buts,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m doing this because I love you, Mitch.’

  She loved him? And she was leaving him because of that? What? That didn’t make sense.

  ‘I know that to keep you trapped in one place would make you unhappy. So I’m setting you free. Free to chase your storms and your dreams.’ She stood up, walked over to him and kissed him lightly. ‘Goodbye, Mitch.’

  This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. He’d intended to give her the flowers, then get down on one knee and tell her he loved her. Ask her to make his life complete by marrying him.

  But then the front door closed behind her.

  And he still couldn’t move a muscle.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THIS wasn’t what Mitch wanted. At all. But Jane had walked out without even giving him a chance to tell her everything he felt. He hadn’t told her that he realised now how much he loved her, that she and the baby were important to him, that he didn’t want to be away any more.

  More importantly, he hadn’t had the chance to ask her to marry him.

  He’d tried to tell her.

  But she’d refused to believe him. She’d said he’d be bored.

  Though he knew he wouldn’t.

  He wanted to be there, with her. Make the home she wanted. Let their baby grow up in a normal family, just as he had. He wanted to be a lover and a husband and a father. He wanted to make a family with her.

  How was he going to get her to believe he was serious? That he really, really meant it?

  Telling her wouldn’t be enough: he already knew that. He needed to show her. And he’d need more than just the blue diamond to make her believe him.

  Despite the jet lag he didn’t sleep well that night.

  But by the morning he had a plan.

  Jane wanted a home. She wanted to be settled.

  He’d give her what she wanted.

  All wrapped up.

  He just needed a hand with the details.

  Three phone calls set two of the parts of his plan in motion. The third bit needed some research. And a lot of luck—because he needed this all sorted by Christmas. Which gave him a shade under four months to do this.

  He just hoped to hell he was doing the right thing. That it would be enough to convince Jane of how he really felt about her.

  He spent the morning on the Internet, browsing properties. By lunchtime, he had a shortlist of six. But when he visited them, none of them was right.

  Another week of searching and getting nowhere. Of ringing Jane just to say hello, but she made excuse after excuse not to see him. Seven job interviews—five of which he knew he wouldn’t take even if he was offered them, one he’d refused on the spot, and one he really wanted but he’d worked with a couple of the other short-listed candidates and knew they had more experience.

  And then things started to click into place. Firstly his own estate agent called him—his tenants wanted to buy the house in Cambridge. At a shade under the asking price, but that was fine by him: the important thing was that he wouldn’t be stuck in a chain. He really, really didn’t have time for that.
r />   And then a London agency rang him. ‘Mr Holland? We’ve just taken some new instructions that I think might interest you.’

  He scribbled down the details. Met the estate agent outside. And the moment he walked inside, he knew it was the right one. Three bedrooms—one for them, one for their daughter, and one for a little brother or sister. A reasonable-sized living room and kitchen diner. A conservatory they could use as a playroom. A garden big enough to mean they could have a dog.

  It was the right house. And he’d seen it on the day he’d sold his own property. So this had to be fate. ‘I’ll pay the full asking price.’

  He didn’t get the job he’d wanted—but he was grateful, two weeks later, when a job that suited him even more came up.

  And a month later, he had the house keys. The whole package.

  Almost.

  All he needed now was his wife and baby and his life would be complete. Jane was still being difficult about seeing him. ‘You said you weren’t going to refuse me access,’ he pointed out. ‘But you’re refusing to see me. So, actually, you are refusing me access.’

  ‘The baby isn’t here yet,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I’m missing out on the bump.’

  ‘And you weren’t while you were chasing storms?’

  He sighed. ‘I don’t want to fight. I just want to see you. I miss you.’

  ‘Hmm.’ But she agreed to see him for lunch.

  And he made a point of asking about the baby as well as her, straight off. Though he noticed that she was shifting about a bit in her seat. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Someone’s practising for the Olympics.’

  The baby was kicking? He stared at her T-shirt covered bump, and he could definitely see movement. ‘May I?’

  She shrugged. ‘Sure.’

  He placed his hand on her bump. Felt tiny shocks from the baby kicking. And he was so choked he could barely speak. He left his hand where it was for a moment or two after the baby had stopped kicking. God, he’d missed touching her. Maybe if he pulled her into his arms and kissed her stupid, it’d break down the barriers between them and everything would be all right.

  But, knowing Jane, it was more likely to make things ten times worse.

  So he removed his hand. Kept his libido well in check. And just said softly, ‘Thank you.’

  Although he was still carrying the ring around with him, now wasn’t the time to give it to her. Or the door key that he’d planned to wrap up in a small box with a ribbon round it: until the house was painted and furnished and he could give her the home of her dreams, he didn’t want her even guessing of its existence.

  So he kept conversation light. Did his best to be charming. Extracted a promise from Jane to meet him every Wednesday. And then persuaded her to make an even more important promise: that she’d let him drive her to hospital and support her through labour. That he could be there when their little girl was born.

  Stage two—decorating the house—meant he needed help. Sure, he could do the whole place in neutral tones—but he wanted Jane to walk in and see her dream, not just the potential.

  ‘Why are you ringing me?’ Hannah asked the next morning, sounding puzzled.

  ‘Because I’ve got your number. And I need your help.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Meet me for lunch, and I’ll explain,’ Mitch said. ‘Name the time and place, and I’ll be there. But I really need your help—and I also need this to be confidential.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this,’ Hannah said.

  ‘It’s nothing bad, I promise. But I don’t want Jane knowing a thing.’

  ‘I can’t promise that.’

  ‘It’s nothing bad,’ he repeated. ‘But—look, just hear me out over lunch, and then make your decision.’

  She was silent for a moment, and he thought she was going to say no.

  He only realised he’d been holding his breath when she said, ‘OK. Wait for me outside the surgery at half past twelve. I might be a few minutes late if my surgery overruns.’

  ‘You,’ Mitch said, ‘are a wonderful woman. Thank you.’ He scribbled down the address she gave him, and at half past twelve precisely he was outside the surgery.

  She was ten minutes late.

  But, hey, he could wait. If he had Hannah and the girls on his side, this would work out.

  They had lunch in a café just down the road. And as soon as they’d ordered a meal, he took the box out of his pocket and showed her the contents.

  ‘A sapphire?’ she asked. ‘It’s very sparkly for a sapphire.’

  ‘That’s because it isn’t one. It’s a blue diamond,’ Mitch said. ‘I came home with it, intending to ask Jane to marry me—but she’d already moved out.’

  Hannah shook her head, clearly exasperated. ‘Mitch, she’s spent the last few months waiting around for you. The only time you’ve been there was when it was a real emergency—and even then you had to travel practically halfway across the world, first.’

  ‘It’s going to change,’ Mitch said. ‘I’ve told her that, but I know that words aren’t enough. I need to prove to her that I mean it. And that means making her a proper home.’ He smiled at her. ‘Which is where you come in. I need inside information. The kind of colours she likes, the kind of furniture.’

  ‘Wait a minute. What do you mean, a proper home?’

  ‘The house of her dreams.’

  ‘You’ve actually bought a house?’

  ‘A couple of roads away from you,’ Mitch confirmed. ‘So if Jane wants to go back to work, she’ll still have an easy journey in; if she doesn’t want to go back to work, she’s near playgroups and what have you; and she’s not far away from you, Charlie and Shelley.’ He paused. ‘If you want to check it out…’

  ‘Not just me. Charlie and Shelley.’

  ‘Sure, but don’t do it all at the same time or she’ll get suspicious. Oh, and it smells of paint at the moment.’

  ‘You’re painting the house?’

  ‘In the evenings when I’m home from work.’

  ‘Which is where? Outer Mongolia?’

  Mitch sighed. ‘London. It’s a desk job but still in the same field as my old job. And it’s flexible—I can work from home, some of the time.’

  ‘Let me get this straight. You’ve bought a house and you’ve got a job in London.’

  ‘And I’ve bought the safest family car on the market,’ he added.

  She shook her head. ‘You’re the man who lives out of a suitcase, drives a flash car and never stays in the same place longer than about a week.’

  ‘Not any more,’ he said softly. ‘All I need to do is persuade Jane to marry me.’

  ‘And if she says no?’

  ‘Then I resort to nagging,’ Mitch said, ‘until she says yes. So are you going to help me?’

  ‘Decorate?’

  ‘Not unless you want to pick up a paintbrush.’ He smiled. ‘Actually, slapping paint on the walls is pretty relaxing. But then again, if you go home smelling of paint or with bits in your hair, she might guess, and I don’t want her knowing about it until the house is ready. Just how she wants it. So if you want to stick to being my style consultant, that’s fine.’

  ‘Charlie’s our style queen,’ Hannah said, sounding doubtful. ‘You might be better asking her.’

  ‘Charlie’s scary. And you were the one who rang me when Jane needed me. I trust you.’ He slid a file across the table. ‘Catalogues. Including nursery furniture. Get her to look through them, then tell me the ones she likes.’ He handed her a card. ‘You know my mobile number. This is work.’

  She glanced at the card, then stared at him. ‘You’re serious.’

  ‘I’m absolutely serious,’ he said. ‘I’m settling. But until Jane’s there with me, the house is never going to be home.’

  ‘OK. I’m in,’ Hannah said. ‘And I can speak for Charlie and Shelley as well.’

  ‘And you’ll keep it to yourselves?’

  She nodded. ‘If you�
��re working this hard to give her the home of her dreams—changing your life to put her at the centre—then you love her. And you’re going to take care of her. So, yes.’

  A month later, Mitch walked from room to room, looking at each one in turn as he leant against the door jambs.

  Perfect.

  Clean, fresh colours on the walls that made the most of the light. Curtains in toning shades—thanks to Hannah’s mum, who’d given him detailed instructions on how to measure up and what to buy, and then came round to press out the creases and help him hang the material from the plain but stylish curtain rods he’d chosen. Carpets with a subtle fleck so the place wouldn’t look as if it needed vacuuming again five minutes after it had been done. Some of his photographs, framed, on the walls—and spaces he planned to fill with photographs of their baby. Furniture, thanks to Hannah, Charlie and Shelley, who’d vetted the house, declared their approval, and met him secretly for lunch with his pile of catalogues marked with the kind of things Jane liked.

  And the nursery.

  He’d painted it in the softest shade of yellow, then hand-painted a frieze of swimming ducklings around the walls just above the top of the crib. It had taken him ages. And although several times he’d been at the point of just painting the whole thing over and buying a paper frieze instead to cover up the mess, he’d persisted.

  He just hoped Jane liked the finished result.

  Home.

  Where he’d be happy to settle.

  Where his heart was. Or would be, once Jane and the baby moved in too.

  He went back down to the kitchen and took a small box and a reel of ribbon from a carrier bag. All he had to do now was wrap Jane’s Christmas present.

  The key to their home.

  And hope that in three weeks’ time she understood exactly what he was giving her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A WEEK later, Mitch was in the office, up to his eyes in figures, charts and maps, when the phone rang.

  He answered it absently. ‘Mitch Holland.’

  ‘It’s becoming a bit of a habit, this,’ Hannah said dryly. ‘Ringing you and telling you that Jane’s in hospital.’