Читать книгу A Family At Last - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 4

‘SHE’S fine!’ a night nurse greeted her as Izzy dashed in at seven a.m.

She’d given Diego a fifteen-minute head start so they didn’t arrive together and it seemed to take ages for the intercom to answer when she buzzed, because the staff were all in handover.

Izzy felt guilty with pleasure and was sure there must be a penance to pay for having such a wonderful night, except Tilia was fine—completely adorable and wide awake. Chris, her nurse for the day, informed Izzy when she came out of handover that Tilia might even be ready for her first bath.

Izzy was glad to have Chris beside her, encouraging her.

Tilia seemed so small and slippery and she wouldn’t stop crying.

‘I thought they liked their bath,’ Izzy said.

‘Just rock her a little.’

Which Izzy did, and Tilia’s cries softened.

Her tufts of hair were shampooed and by the time Izzy had dried and dressed her, it was all sticking up and Izzy thought her heart would burst as she sat in the rocking chair and held her.

‘How soon do you think?’ Izzy asked the perpetual question.

‘When she’s taking all her feeds and just a bit bigger,’ Chris said. ‘She’s doing so well. I know you’re impatient to get her home, but she still needs top-ups and a little one like this…’ She took an exhausted Tilia from Izzy and popped her in her cot then put the saturation probe on her, checked her obs and popped a little hat on. ‘Even a bath wears them out. Why don’t you go down to the canteen and get some breakfast?’ Chris suggested, rightly guessing that Izzy hadn’t eaten.

‘Good idea,’ Izzy agreed. ‘I’ll go and see if Nicola wants to come down with me.’

‘Actually,’ Chris said gently, ‘maybe it’s best if you leave Nicola for now.’

‘Oh!’ Izzy waited for more information, only she wasn’t a doctor on duty here and there was no information forthcoming. ‘I’ll be at the canteen, then,’ Izzy said. ‘I’ve got my pager.’

She walked through the unit, her eyes drawn to Toby’s cot. There was Nicola and her husband, and Diego was sitting with them. His face was more serious than she had ever seen it and Izzy felt sick as Megan came into the unit and instead of waving to Izzy just gave a very brief nod and headed over to them.

It was the longest morning.

Tilia awoke at eleven but wouldn’t take her bottle and Izzy came close to crying, except she shook her head when Chris passed her a box of tissues.

‘You are allowed to cry.’

But it seemed so petty. Tilia was thriving, okay, a little slower than Izzy would like, but she was getting bigger and stronger every day and, anyway, Izzy knew, there was a lot more to cry over than that—and now just wasn’t the time to.

‘Hey, where’s Chris?’ Diego gave her a tired smile as he came in later to get an update.

‘Two minutes,’ Chris called from the sinks, where she was helping another mum with a bath.

‘How are you?’ Diego asked.

‘Good.’

Tilia?’

‘Misbehaving—she won’t take her feeds.’

‘She had a bath, though,’ Diego said, but she could tell he was distracted and who could blame him?

‘How’s Toby?’

‘He’s not good,’ Diego said. ‘I know you helped deliver him.’ He was walking a fine line. ‘We can talk another time.’

‘Sure.’

‘Two more minutes!’ Chris called again.

‘I’m going to be working late tonight.’ His voice was low. ‘I can give you a key if you want…’

‘I might go home tonight,’ Izzy said, hoping he wouldn’t take up her offer of an out. ‘I’m really tired and you’re working…’

Except he took it. ‘Sure.’

And then Chris was walking over, ready to bring Diego up to date with her charges, and Izzy didn’t see him again apart from the back of his shoulders for the rest of the day.

And that night, when she sat at home, she told herself she was being ridiculous—he was working late, he had every reason to be sombre, and she had been the one to say she’d prefer to go home, but, just as a mother could often pin-point the moment their child became sick long before the doctors were concerned even when the child itself said it was well, Izzy could sense change.

Even as she tried to leave the past where it belonged, she could sense a shift, could sense a black cloud forming, and it had hovered over Diego today.

‘Neonatal Unit—Diego speaking.’

‘It’s me.’ Izzy hadn’t really expected him to answer the phone. It was edging towards ten p.m., which meant he had done a double shift. ‘I was just ringing to check up on Tilia.’

‘She’s had a good night so far, I think,’ Diego said. ‘I’ll just have a word with the nurse who’s looking after her.’ And she sat there and held her breath as he did what all the nursing staff did when a mother rang at night to check on their baby. She could even hear his voice in the background and Izzy held her breath as he came to the phone. ‘She’s settled and she’s taken her bottle. You can relax, she’s having a good night.’

‘Thank you.’

He said goodnight, he was lovely and kind, but he was Nurse Unit Manager and that was all.

Something had changed.

Izzy just knew it.

The phone rang again and Izzy pounced on it, sure it was Diego, only it wasn’t, and she frowned at the vaguely familiar voice. ‘I’m sorry to trouble you. It’s just that you gave me your number. You’re the only one who seemed to understand it’s not as simple as just leaving…’

‘Evelyn?’

‘I can’t go on like this.’

‘Evelyn.’ Izzy kept her voice calmer than she felt. ‘Where are you now?’

‘I’m at home. He’s at the pub…’ Even if she wanted to dwell on Diego or Tilia, or to just go to bed, Izzy pushed it aside and listened. So badly she wanted to tell Evelyn to get out, to just pack her bags and go, but Izzy remembered how she had rushed it last time, knew that it was good Evelyn was taking this small step, so, instead of jumping in and fixing, Izzy bit her tongue and just listened, learning fast that sometimes it was the best you could do.

‘Are you okay?’ Izzy was quite sure Megan wasn’t. She had come and sat with her in the canteen and Izzy could tell she’d been crying, but, then, so had a lot of people.

Toby had passed away last night and both Diego and Megan, Izzy had heard from another mother, had stayed till the end.

‘I’ve been better,’ Megan admitted. ‘All I put that baby through and the parents too—and for what?’

‘Don’t,’ Izzy said, because they’d had these conversations before. Megan set impossible standards for herself, wanted to save each and every baby, and took it right to her heart when nature chose otherwise. ‘Look at Genevieve!’ Izzy said.

‘I know.’ Megan blew out a breath. ‘This really got to me, though, and Diego—he doesn’t normally get upset, but I guess finding out his dad’s so sick…’ Her voice trailed off, realising she was being indiscreet. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘I’m not going to tell him.’ Izzy felt her throat tighten. It was such a tightrope—they were all friends, all colleagues, all different things to each other. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

Megan screwed her eyes closed. ‘Izzy, please don’t.’

‘Just because I’ve had a baby it doesn’t mean my brain’s softened. Nobody would tell me anything about Toby, forgetting the fact I delivered him, and now I’m not supposed to be told Diego’s father’s sick. I knew there was something wrong last night.’

‘He probably doesn’t want to worry you.’

‘Well, I am worried,’ Izzy said. ‘Is it bad?’

Reluctantly Megan nodded but no more information was forthcoming and Izzy sat quietly for a moment with her thoughts. ‘I’ve had an offer on the house,’ Izzy said, ‘but they want a quick settlement. Thirty days.’

‘Ouch!’ Megan said. ‘Will you be able to find somewhere?’

‘Probably.’

‘What about your mum’s?’ Megan managed a smile at Izzy’s reaction. ‘Okay, bad idea.’

‘I think I should be concentrating on Tilia, not trying to find somewhere to live.’

‘There’s always Diego’s,’ Megan teased, adding when she saw Izzy close her eyes, ‘I was joking—I know it’s way too soon to even be thinking—’

‘But I do,’ Izzy admitted, and Megan’s eyes widened.

‘You hardly know each other.’

‘I know that.’ Izzy nodded. ‘I can’t stand being in the house, but I think it’s best for now…’ She was trying to be practical, logical, sensible. ‘I don’t want to force any decisions on us.’ She looked at her friend. ‘I’m trying to hold onto my heart here. I’m trying to just be in the now with him, but practically the day I met him I was knocked sideways. I felt it, this connection, this chemistry.’ She looked at Megan, who was frowning. ‘Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?’

‘No.’ Megan swallowed and then her voice was urgent. ‘Don’t sell your house.’ Megan, who normally was happy to sit and just listen, was practically hopping in her seat to give advice. ‘Izzy, Diego’s lovely and everything…’ She was struggling to give the right advice, tempted to tell Izzy to turn tail and run because she’d felt that way once too and look where it had left her. Love had swept in for Megan and left a trail of devastation that all these years on she was still struggling to come to terms with—pain so real that she still woke some nights in tears, still lived with the consequences and would till the day she left the earth. ‘Be careful, Izzy,’ Megan said, even if wasn’t the advice Izzy wanted. ‘Maybe you should have some time on your own. At least, don’t rush into anything with Diego—you’ve got Tilia to think of. Diego’s father’s sick, he could just up and go to Spain…’ And then Megan stopped herself, saw Izzy’s stunned expression and realised she had been too harsh, realised perhaps she was talking more about herself than her friend.

‘Izzy, don’t listen to me,’ Megan begged. ‘Who am I to give advice? I haven’t been in a relationship in ages, I’m married to my career.’ Megan swallowed. ‘And I don’t have a child. I’m the last person to tell you what you should be doing. Maybe speak to Jess…’ She was close to tears and feeling wretched. The last thing Megan had wanted to do was project her own bitterness onto Izzy, especially at such a vulnerable time, but the last few weeks had been hell for Megan—sheer hell. Since Josh had come to work at St Piran’s she was struggling to even think straight. ‘Maybe you should talk to Jess,’ Megan said again as her pager went off, summoning her to the children’s ward. She gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. ‘You’ll make the right choice.’ She turned to leave, but there he was, right there in front of her.

‘Megan…’ Josh said. ‘Did you get my message?’

She went to walk on, but Josh was insistent.

‘Megan, we need to talk—there are things we need to discuss.’ He caught her wrist and Megan looked at his hand around hers, their first physical contact in years, and she couldn’t stand it because it was there, the chemistry, the reaction, her skin leaping at the memory of him, and it terrified her—it truly terrified her. She shook him off.

‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ Megan said.

‘There’s plenty,’ Josh insisted, and she felt herself waver, because there was so much to discuss but, worse, she knew that he felt her waver, knew they were still in sync. ‘Not here,’ Josh said, because heads in the corridor were turning.

Megan grappled for control of her mind, held onto the pain he had caused as if it were a liferaft, because if she forgot for a moment she would sink back into his charm.

And she remembered more, enough for a sneer to curl her lips.

Then she let herself remember just a little bit more, enough to force harsh words from her lips.

‘Where, then, Josh?’ Megan spat. ‘Where should we meet?’ She watched as he ran a tongue over his lips, knew then he hadn’t thought this out, perhaps hadn’t expected her to agree. ‘There’s a nice restaurant on the foreshore,’ she sneered. ‘Oh, but we might be seen!’ she jeered. ‘How about Penhally, or is that too close? Maybe you could pop over to mine…’ She was blind with rage now, shaking just to stop herself from shouting. ‘You’re married, Josh, so, no, we can’t meet. You’re a married man.’ If she said it again, maybe if she said it enough times, she would come to accept it. ‘Which means there is absolutely nothing to discuss.’