Читать книгу Their One Night Baby - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

‘PREGNANT?’

Victoria watched as her father took off his glasses and cleaned them. And, as he did so, she remembered the time she had got her first period and it had been almost an identical reaction—slight bemusement, mild irritation, though more at the intrusion of conversation rather than what was actually being said.

Victoria sat in her father’s office at Riverside Hospital and waited. For what, she didn’t know.

She had read somewhere that some terrible parents made the most wonderful grandparents. That without the responsibility of parenthood, they enjoyed the experience. And she had hoped, truly hoped, that it might be the case here. That this might breathe some life into her relationship with her father.

Apparently not, if his cool reaction was anything to go by.

And Victoria knew deep down that there had been no real relationship with her father. At least, not the sort she wanted. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the function they had attended, despite Victoria having tried to call.

Her father was brilliant but completely self-absorbed.

Completely.

‘How far along are you?’ he asked.

It had been six weeks since her time with Dominic, and with the requisite two weeks added, Victoria knew her dates.

‘Eight weeks,’ she said.

‘Do you want it?’ Professor Christie asked.

He thought she was here to ask for a referral for an abortion, Victoria suddenly realised.

And he’d write her one, Victoria knew.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I very much want my baby.’

She stared at him but he was reading through some notes that lay on his desk.

‘What about the father?’ he asked, and looked up.

‘I haven’t told him yet. We’re not together or anything. He’s in Scotland.’ Victoria had heard that in passing. ‘On annual leave,’ she added to her father.

She was forewarned as to the response she might get from Dominic, when her father spoke next.

‘Well, he’s in for a pleasant surprise when he gets back.’

The sarcasm was evident in his voice and it told Victoria all she needed to know about her father’s thoughts on parenthood.

‘Victoria, you really need to give this some consideration. Being a single parent is hard work—I should know. It interferes in every aspect of your life. You’re the one who always bangs on about your career—think what it will do to that...’

She hadn’t seen him since the function and then it had been for an award for his career. Victoria didn’t bang on, as her father described it. Given he was a professor and specialised in Accident and Emergency and she was a paramedic, she had, on occasion, tried to find some common ground.

But there was none and there never had been.

There was no room in this narcissist’s world for anyone other than himself.

‘I can’t help you financially,’ he said, for Professor Christie had amassed a small collection of ex-wives.

‘I’ve never once asked you to.’

Victoria hadn’t.

She had left home as soon as she had finished school and had never asked her father for anything.

But she was about to.

She looked at her father and knew that really there was no point even being here. He did not want to be a part of her life, and the occasional public showing of his daughter was only when he was between wives.

‘Victoria, I need to get on.’

‘There is something I want...’ Victoria said, and he let out the little hiss of irritation that he always did when she asked for a moment more of his time. ‘I was hoping to have the baby at Paddington’s.’

Victoria had decided as she’d walked through the corridors of Riverside that she didn’t want her baby to be born here. There was nothing wrong with the hospital—she often brought patients here—but it felt bland to Victoria, and her father worked here too.

She felt closer to a building than her own parents. It was sad but true, and that was why she asked the favour.

‘They only take complicated cases,’ Professor Christie said.

‘Not always,’ Victoria refuted. And she didn’t point out that she’d been born there and that members of staff tended to choose, where possible, to have their child there, but she would not be fobbed off.

‘It’s closing.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Victoria said. ‘And if it does close before the baby comes along, then I’ll be referred elsewhere, but I’d really like to have my antenatal care there.’

As an adult she had never asked her father for anything, not one single thing. ‘Can you get me in there?’