Читать книгу Bound By Their Babies: Bound by Their Babies - Caroline Anderson, Amy Ruttan - Страница 14

CHAPTER FOUR

THEY SPENT WEDNESDAY evening interviewing each other, thinking up all the horrible questions they could be asked and trying to answer them coherently.

How would they divide their time? What if it didn’t work? How about sick leave, holidays—would they cover for each other on an overtime basis? Did they have an agreement to share the tasks equally and equitably? What if one of them wanted out? Medical questions, too, because Nick Jarvis, the husband of Liv who’d delivered Zach, had been grilled by Ben when he’d come back to work here the year before and he’d warned them not to expect Ben to play nice.

‘Enough!’ she said, jumping to her feet and clutching her hair when midnight was looming and her head was ready to explode. ‘If we don’t stop talking about this, I’m going to be awake all night and I won’t be able to string two words together. It’s bad enough that I’m going to look like a bag lady.’

He started to laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Why will you look like a bag lady?’

‘Why? Because none of my decent clothes fit me properly now—and I can’t even remember when I last wore a skirt.’

‘So wear trousers.’

‘I can’t get into them either, they won’t do up because I’ve changed shape and put on weight. The only thing I can get into is a stretchy pencil skirt I had when I was first pregnant, and a jacket that won’t quite meet. And frankly, Jake, that’s not adequate!’

He laughed again, but his eyes were tender and made her feel strange. ‘Em, you’re gorgeous. You couldn’t look like a bag lady if you tried—’

‘Don’t patronise me! I don’t look gorgeous, and I certainly don’t look professional. At the outside I’ll get by.’

‘Hey, you’ll be fine,’ he assured her, serious now. ‘They want to talk to you about the job, not check out your dress sense.’

She growled under her breath. ‘It’s not about them, it’s about me. I need to feel professional and well presented to give me confidence, and I’ve worn nothing but stretchy skinny jeans and baggy tops covered in baby goo for the last nine months!’

‘Oh, Em.’ He laughed softly, and getting to his feet, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard. His chest was broad and solid, and the scent of his skin drifted over her, warm and familiar and oddly disturbing.

‘You’ll be great,’ he murmured, his low voice rumbling in his chest beneath her ear and adding to the disturbing sensations. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be fine, you’ll wow them. Now go to bed. I’ll wake you in the morning so you’ve got time to get showered before I have to leave, OK?’

‘OK.’

He let her go, the warm, safe embrace broken, and she kissed his cheek and went up to bed, too tired to worry any more. What would be would be, and worrying wasn’t going to make a blind bit of difference.

* * *

Jake watched her go, then stared sightlessly out of the window into the night.

He hoped he’d managed to reassure her, but there was nobody to reassure him, and so much—so much—was hanging on these interviews.

Tomorrow had the potential to change the entire course of his life. He just hoped it would be for the better—for all of them.

His mind churning, he tidied up the kitchen, turned out the lights and went upstairs. Her bedroom door was open, the light on, and as he walked past it to check on Matilda he saw her sitting up in bed in those cute pyjamas that made him think of things he had no business thinking about.

And it didn’t help that she was feeding Zach.

She patted the mattress beside her, and he went in and perched on the edge of the bed.

‘What’s up?’

‘I’m just nervous. It will be all right, won’t it?’ she asked, a worried frown puckering her forehead. ‘It has to be.’

He shrugged. ‘I hope so. We’re well prepared. We can’t do any more than we have.’

‘No, I guess not.’

She eased the sleepy baby off her nipple, and he looked away hastily, his eyes falling instead on a small double picture frame on her bedside table.

‘Could you hold him for me, please? I need the bathroom and then I need to change his nappy.’

‘Sure.’ He stood up and took Zach from her, his eyes drawn again to the photos under the bedside light as she left the room.

They were both pictures of Em and Pete, but they were very different. The first had been taken on their wedding day, laughter shining in their eyes; the second looked like a selfie, with her propped up beside him on a bed, Pete holding something on his chest. He peered closer, and the little blur became clear.

‘Oh, Em,’ he breathed, emotion clogging his throat. The only image Pete would ever see of his son, his twelve-week scan photo, was resting on his heart. Em must have been taken the selfie on the day of the scan, less than a week before Pete died.

He stared at it silently, the image blurring. It was so cruel, so unfair. He’d promised Pete on his deathbed that he’d look after Emily and the baby and keep them safe, and he said it again now, his mouth moving silently as Emily came back into the room.

‘Thanks,’ she said, taking the now sleeping baby from his arms. She put him down on the bed, then turned back to Jake as he stood up and slipped her arms round him and rested her head on his chest with a sigh.

‘We will be OK, won’t we, Jake? We can do this, can’t we?’

He dragged his eyes off the photo and tried to stop thinking about the feel of her body against his. ‘Of course we can, and it’ll all be fine, one way or another. Go on, go to bed, get some sleep.’

Her arms tightened briefly and then, as if the hug wasn’t enough to finish him off, she tilted her head and touched her lips to his cheek. Her scent curled around him, the soft touch of her skin, the warmth of her lips, the fullness of her body pressed against him not helping at all.

He dropped his arms and stepped back, blew the sleeping baby a kiss and walked to the door. As he turned to shut it, the photo caught his gaze again.

He closed the door, checked Matilda and went into his own room, shutting the door firmly between him and temptation.

What on earth had he let himself in for? And he’d told Emily to be sure she was doing the right thing? If it hadn’t been for his promise to Pete, he’d tell Emily he couldn’t do this and he’d find another way, but he couldn’t, because he’d promised to look after her and her baby, and she needed this job share every bit as much as he did. He’d just have to grit his teeth and get on with it.

Assuming they got the job share, which they wouldn’t if he didn’t get some sleep so he could think straight tomorrow.

But sleep was a long time coming, because every time he closed his eyes he saw the haunting image of a dying man, chiding him for his hypocrisy.

* * *

Nick had been right.

The interviews were thorough, rigorous and didn’t cut either of them any slack, but somehow they got through them, and after the joint interview they were sent out so the board could discuss the results.

There was a small waiting area with chairs grouped around a low table with a pile of magazines on it, and as they sat there Emily rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

‘I hope I didn’t let you down,’ she mumbled. ‘I didn’t know what they wanted from me half the time. I probably talked rubbish.’

He slid his arm round her shoulders and hugged her. ‘It can’t have been any worse than mine, and I thought we did all right in the joint interview.’

‘By a miracle.’

‘Well, maybe we’re due one,’ he said, the photo of Pete on her bedside table all too clear in his mind.

‘Hope so. A lot depends on it. I spoke to Pete’s parents while you were in there, they said if the children didn’t get on at nursery they’d have them on Wednesdays for us.’

‘Wow. That’s a big commitment.’ Not one his own parents would be able or willing to make, he knew that. They’d made their feelings perfectly clear and had very little time for him or their granddaughter.

She shrugged. ‘They’re lovely people, and I think they’d like it, but they live on the other side of Bury St Edmunds and it’s a long way. Further now than it was, so it isn’t really feasible.’

‘Let’s wait and see. It may not even be necessary—oh, here we go. Chin up.’

He retrieved his arm as the boardroom door opened, his legs suddenly like jelly as he got to his feet, but Ben was smiling as he beckoned them in and the CEO told them that their application had been successful and the job share was theirs.

‘We were very impressed with the amount of thought you’d both put into it, and the meticulous planning of your schedule, and also your willingness to be flexible and add extra time. So if you want to go ahead, I’ll inform HR and they can start working on the contracts, and we look forward to welcoming Mrs Cardew to the hospital.’

‘Thank you—that’s amazing,’ he said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and beside him he heard Emily sniff and let out what might have been a sob of laughter.

‘Wow. Thank you—thank you so much,’ she said, her voice wobbling a little. ‘I won’t let you down. We won’t let you down.’

* * *

She waited until they were out of the room and walking along the corridor before she let out a tiny whoop and hugged him. ‘Yessss! We did it!’

‘We did,’ Jake said with a laugh, hugging her back, ‘and I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we grab a really quick lunch? I’m in Theatre this afternoon and I ought to go and see my patients first, but I’ve got half an hour. Are you OK to pick up the children without me afterwards and talk to the nursery about having them every Wednesday?’

‘Yes, of course I am—and definitely yes to lunch,’ she added, suddenly aware that she was shaking all over. ‘I think my blood sugar’s a bit low. I couldn’t eat breakfast and I’m starving.’

‘Me, too. We’ll go to the Park Café and get a sandwich and a coffee. We can celebrate properly later.’

They walked into the café and he headed for the grab-and-go chiller. ‘Are you sure a sandwich and coffee’s OK?’

‘Of course it is,’ she said, and took a sandwich out of the chiller, just as one of the café staff hailed Jake from behind the counter.

‘Hello, Mr Stratton. How’s your little girl? I felt so sorry for her. Is she all right?’ the woman asked, and Emily realised that this must be where Jo had left Matilda, in the middle of this busy café right off the main hospital thoroughfare where anyone could walk in.

‘She’s fine, Sue, thank you,’ Jake was saying. ‘She’s doing well and we’re all sorted.’

‘Oh, good, I am glad. Cappuccino with an extra shot?’

‘Please, and a decaf cappuccino, as well.’

He added a bar of chocolate and paid the bill, and they headed out through a set of doors that led to an outside seating area.

There was an open barrier around the outside, just a few low screens to indicate the café area, but beyond it was the park, which was open to the public and without any security, and Jo had left Matilda here? She was even more appalled. Compared to the security of the nursery, this was terrifying—

‘I can’t believe it she left her here,’ she said, shocked. ‘What if Ben hadn’t been there? Anybody could have wandered in off the park and just wheeled her away, and who would have stopped them? No wonder you were so angry!’

He nodded. ‘I know. Don’t worry, I know. She could have just brought her up to Maternity, where she would have been safe. Maybe she would have done if Ben hadn’t been there, but she should have spoken to me, handed her over, done it properly, not just dumped her like she dumps everything when she realises it’s not what she thought it was going to be.

‘That was exactly what she did with me when she changed her mind and decided she didn’t like Yoxburgh after all and didn’t want to live here. Too cold, too windy, too far from her friends. And apparently I was too obsessed with my job, which I can understand, and you’re probably right about her holding out for happy ever after, but—to leave your own daughter like that? I could never do that, and for the life of me I can’t imagine what I saw in her.’

She smiled wryly at him. ‘It’s not rocket science, Jake. You were lonely, and she was there. And I’ve seen photos, she’s lovely.’

‘No. No, you’re lovely,’ he said emphatically—so emphatically that she felt her eyes widen. ‘Honest and straightforward, decent, kind, thoughtful, considerate, and you’ll put yourself out for a friend.’

‘Well, of course I would—’

‘No, not of course. Not like you have. For God’s sake, Emily, you’ve just given up everything to help me. That wouldn’t have occurred to Jo. Sure, she’s pretty, but she can’t commit to anything, not even her own daughter, and as soon as the going gets tough, she’s off. I don’t suppose she even stopped to work out how I was going to juggle caring for Matilda with earning a living so I could put a roof over her head. She just—went.’

‘Did you ever look at the CCTV?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Ben got them to create a copy of the recordings, just in case I want to take her to court, but as I don’t have a way of doing that it doesn’t seem relevant, and anyway, I haven’t exactly had time. Besides, what’s it going to tell me? Nothing I don’t already know.’

‘No, I guess not. I’m so sorry it didn’t work for you.’

He threw her a bitter smile. ‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault I had such a massive error of judgement, but Matilda’s fine and so am I, and thanks to you and this job share I can see light at the end of the tunnel. And for what it’s worth, you’re beautiful. Right, coronation chicken, BLT or half each?’

* * *

The doorbell rang at eight that evening, and it was Ben, with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of Prosecco.

‘Just to say well done and to welcome you to the team,’ he said, kissing Emily’s cheek.

‘Are you sure it’s not to apologise for grilling us like kippers in the interviews?’ Jake asked drily from behind her, but Ben just shrugged.

‘Got to be done,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘and you both came out of it very well, so I wouldn’t let it worry you. Anyway, I won’t hold you up, I just wanted to give you these. And Daisy says if you’re ever at a loose end, either of you, she’s always looking for another adult to talk to, so give her a call and you can have a play-date with the children. And she does mean it.’

‘I might well do that,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve heard so much about her. And thank you, for the flowers and the Prosecco, but most of all for doing so much to make this happen. We’re both really grateful.’

‘My pleasure. I should give you a guided tour of the hospital, really.’

She smiled. ‘I’ve sort of had one. Don’t forget I road-tested the facilities when I had Zach, so it’s not a totally unknown quantity. And I’m sure Jake’ll help me find my feet.’

‘I’m sure he will. And I really hope this works for you both, because you’ve obviously thought it through very thoroughly, so it deserves to. And any problems, any time, my door’s always open. And I mean that. If you need help, ask.’

He kissed her cheek again, shook hands with Jake and went out, and Jake looked from her to the Prosecco.

‘Shall we celebrate?’ he asked, and she thought of all the things she’d given up—her job, her friends, her house...

No, not her friends. Jake was and always had been the only friend who really mattered to her. And the house wasn’t hers, either, it was hers and Pete’s. It had felt like a prison at times, but it had also been her sanctuary and she’d thought losing it would be hard, but when she’d gone there the other night it hadn’t felt like home any more, as if that part of her life was done.

And this—this was her new life, here with Jake and yet not with him. It was odd, unsettling, a little confusing, but it wasn’t for ever and Jake was making sacrifices, too. It wasn’t a one-way street—

‘Em?’

Putting the negatives aside and concentrating on the very many positives, she looked into Jake’s serious, searching eyes and found a smile.

‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘Yes, let’s celebrate.’

He popped the cork, poured two glasses and handed her one. ‘To the future,’ he said, and she lifted her glass.

‘To the future,’ she echoed, and shut the door firmly on the past.

* * *

It took until the end of the following week to sort out the contracts and shuffle patient appointments to accommodate their new arrangement, and in that time Jake moved all his stuff from the bathroom to the downstairs shower room, decorated the bathroom and started on the room that would be Zach’s, ready for him to move into.

It was just a quick coat of paint, but it made him feel slightly better about the sacrifices Em was having to make.

‘You don’t have to do this for me,’ she said, bringing him tea after she’d fed Zach and settled him for the night.

‘Yes, I do.’ He put the brush down, got off the ladder and took the mug from her. ‘I want you to feel at home, and I’ve been in your home, and it’s beautiful, and this place is a mess.’

‘It’s a glorious mess. Our house is dull in comparison.’

Our house.

He looked away. ‘I didn’t think it was dull. I thought it was lovely.’

‘It is, but it hasn’t got the high ceilings or the original fireplaces or any of the other things the Victorians were so good at.’

‘What, like the rattling windows and the leaky roof and the fact that the floor’s slightly wonky in the kitchen because the back of the house has sunk?’

She grinned at him. ‘It’s all part of its charm.’

He snorted. ‘It’s nearly summer, Em. You wait till the winter. You might want to reassess when the wind’s shrieking off the North Sea and pouring in round the edges of the window frames.’

‘Oh, you paint such a glorious picture! We can wear thick jumpers and snuggle up under fleecy blankets. And anyway, fresh air’s good for you. So, what can I do?’

‘Keep me company,’ he said, trying not to think about snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket. ‘Cutting in round the edge is boring.’

‘Want me to roller the walls?’

‘Be my guest,’ he said, so she joined in and they finished Zach’s bedroom together, and all the time he reminded himself that it should have been Pete doing it. Pete painting their baby’s bedroom with her. Pete snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket—

‘Right, we’re done. I’m going to wash this lot before the paint ruins them.’

‘Want a hand?’

‘No, you’re all right,’ he said, suddenly feeling the need for space, because it was beginning to dawn on him that, for the next several years at least, he was going to be sharing every detail of his house, his work, his life with another man’s woman.

The woman he loved, he finally admitted to himself. The only woman he’d ever really loved, the woman he wanted with all his heart. How the hell had it taken him so long to work out how much she meant to him? All those wasted years—and now he’d be living and working alongside her, with her and yet not with her, and it was going to be way, way tougher than he’d realised...

* * *

The contracts signed, they went to her house that weekend before she started work on the Monday, and while the children played on the floor with Zach’s toys, Jake dismantled the cot and loaded it into his car, together with all Zach’s clothes and toys and all the baby equipment she hadn’t already taken over there. While he did that she packed up all the food in the kitchen, throwing out the dregs of packets, the oddments of jam and chutney in the fridge, the last few bags of green tea that had been all Pete would drink in his last days, lurking in the back of the cupboard behind some out-of-date coffee beans.