Читать книгу A Family Worth Waiting For - Josie Metcalfe - Страница 10

TRYING to ignore the man walking next to her on the way to the centre was impossible. Damn it all! Why couldn’t he be old and fat and balding with bad breath and an even worse toupee? Instead, the man who turned out to be her saviour was as sexy as hell, with hair and green eyes you could fall into. The fact that he also resembled someone who had hurt her badly ten years ago was a whole other distraction.

Claire was very confused. How had this man got under her skin on such short acquaintance? Was it the Shane factor? No. This reaction was completely new. Not even with Shane had she felt so instantly and acutely aware of a man. Whatever the reason, Claire knew it all added up to one thing—danger.

Pushing aside her confusion and the prickle of unease she could feel all the way up her spine, she concentrated on the joy at showing off her ‘baby’. Confidence and pride added a spring to her step.

‘Here we are,’ she announced, as she retrieved a set of keys from her pocket and opened the double swing doors. The sign above said, WELCOME TO ST JUDE’S BIRTH CENTRE. He preceded her and Claire couldn’t contain the thrill of excitement that always hit her when she walked through the doors. It was her dream, the culmination of a year’s work.

‘This place used to be one of the postnatal wards until it was shut down a few years ago. We’ve taken over the first two bays on either side of the corridor. It’s my hope that one day the centre will need the entire ward area.’

‘You’re ambitious.’ He smiled. ‘I like that.’

‘No, not really,’ she continued, ‘I just want to see the beds made available. We already have a waiting list. I don’t want to see our numbers restricted by space constraints.’

Claire opened the door to the first birthing suite. It was spacious, taking up an entire bay which once would have held six beds. A large, low, queen-sized bed was neatly made up with a bedspread that matched the bright, attractive curtains. Beside it a mobile crib, complete with a warming blanket, was ready to receive a newborn.

There was also a sofa which converted into a double bed and next to it a bar fridge, as well as tea- and coffee-making facilities. Behind it was a bathroom with a shower cubicle and a toilet. Against the far wall was a bathtub. Two trolleys stood against available wall space. They had covers that matched the curtains to disguise their medical purpose. One was for linen and the other carried equipment, which was used at the moment the baby entered the outside world.

Every effort had been made to create a homey atmosphere. It was as far removed from standard hospital accommodation as you could get.

‘As you can see, there’s plenty of room for whatever support team the couple wishes. The double bed allows for partners to stay with the new mum if they want.’

‘What’s the policy on siblings?’

‘If that’s what the parents want, that’s fine, as long as there is a support person solely to look after the older child or children.’

He nodded his approval and Claire beamed.

‘You planning some water births?’ he asked.

Claire laughed. ‘Can you see the board agreeing to that? I thought I did a good enough job getting them to agree to the centre.’

‘I’ve delivered a few. In the right circumstances, it’s a wonderful experience.’

Claire was becoming more impressed with Campbell’s grasp of modern birth practices. Perhaps he wasn’t insane after all. Professionally he seemed completely compos mentis.

‘Water births would be fantastic, but maybe down the track a bit. One step at a time. I really pushed for the baths. Water is too often overlooked for pain relief. So many women find the warmth and buoyancy an incredible help. The plumbing was the most expensive part of the conversion.’

‘It’s been really well thought-out. The room looks … peaceful.’ He followed up his compliment with a broad grin.

It had been exactly what they had hoped to achieve. So often babies were born into bright, noisy environments. Part of the centre philosophy was to create a peaceful, harmonious atmosphere. Claire soaked up his positive comments like any mother proud of her baby. She felt weak from the full force of his smile.

‘The other room is a mirror image of this one,’ she said, indicating the closed door. ‘Across this side,’ she said, walking into the room opposite, ‘is our office area.’ The room held three desks. ‘Two desks for the four midwives and one for our receptionist. And in here …’ she opened a large built-in cupboard near the door ‘… is the resuscitation trolley and other medical equipment in case of emergency. The laughing gas is kept in here also.’

Campbell pulled the trolley out of its alcove. He removed the green cloth that covered the top and checked everything. She watched his large hands run over the array of first-line emergency drugs, the selection of breathing tubes and masks. His long fingers opened the drawers and checked the oxygen and suction hanging off the side of the trolley.

‘Everything’s here I would ever need in an emergency,’ he said approvingly, and Claire felt like she had passed some kind of test.

‘The other room is a staffroom-cum-commonroom. We’ll use it to eat our lunch or whatever, and clients can use it to make themselves a cuppa while they’re waiting to be seen. We’re also planning on running our own antenatal classes. This room will be perfect for that.’

It was spacious enough. There was a sink with a jug and coffee and tea things and a microwave near the entry. A round table with four chairs stood nearby. Over by the window were a couple of comfortable lounges. A bookshelf on the wall held a variety of midwifery and birth-related books and journals.

‘You’ve done a great job, Claire.’ His easy compliment massaged her ego.

‘It wasn’t just me. Four of us worked on the project and set the centre up. I was just the one delegated to deal with all the red-tape stuff.’ She grimaced and screwed up her nose.

‘Because … you’re so good at it?’

Claire laughed. ‘No. Because it was my idea and that was all the reason they needed to make me do it. You should meet the others in the next few weeks.’

‘How about you have dinner with me tonight and fill me in on how you envisage the centre will run?’

Claire wasn’t fooled by his innocent smile. Same motive as before, just disguised in a different wrapper. Who was she kidding? If her life were at all normal then she’d have jumped at the chance. He was, after all, a very attractive man. But there was so much about her life that was complicated.

It was far easier to deny herself completely than to suffer the inevitable heartache. That was the mantra she lived by. Despite this, Claire felt a flutter in her chest that was an entirely new experience for her. Why? She hardly knew the man!

‘Take a seat.’ Claire indicated behind him. ‘I’ll fill you in now.’

He laughed but pulled up a chair anyway. Claire continued.

‘Pregnant women, when they first make contact with the hospital, will be offered our service. If they decide it’s for them, they’ll have their initial consultation with you. If they’re suitable, you’ll refer them to us. All their subsequent appointments will be with us. We’ll see them every four weeks until twenty-eight weeks, and then every fortnight until thirty-six and then weekly until they deliver. Same as usual. If they haven’t delivered by forty weeks then you’ll see them again to check everything’s OK.’

‘Right. I assume it’s short stay? How long do they stay after the baby is born?’

‘Twenty-four hours generally. Each case will be different, of course. It’ll also be influenced by demand. If women wish to stay longer, they’ll be transferred to one of the postnatal wards. The hospital’s Community Midwifery Service will follow up the women who choose early discharge. Then we see them here again six weeks later.’

‘Very good.’ He nodded. ‘But what about the birth? What pain relief do you offer? What’s the procedure if complications develop?’

‘We offer gas and pethidine, although we’d prefer to try alternatives first.’

‘Such as?’

‘Heat, massage, positioning, water. However, if the client wants something stronger, or if complications develop, we transfer them to Labour Ward. We continue to be their midwives and will still deliver their babies, and then they come back to the birth centre afterwards, depending on their level of intervention.’

Campbell continued to fire questions at Claire. She answered them in full.

‘One more question, Sister West.’ He smiled, his green eyes glittering with mirth.

‘Yes?’ she replied warily.

‘Do you like Thai or would you prefer Indian?’

Claire groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘Neither.’

‘Italian?’

‘I’m not going to go to dinner with you, Campbell. Quit asking.’

‘I never quit. My mother says I’m the most stubborn person she knows.’

‘Well, I think you’ve just met your match.’

‘I’m not going to go away, Claire. I won’t give up.’

‘Always get what you want, huh?’

‘No, not always. I’ve just never wanted anything so much before.’ Campbell’s pager beeped and he whisked it off his belt, frustration marring his handsome face. ‘Saved by the bell, Claire West. I’ve got to go. Labour Ward needs me.’

Claire stood, grateful that he was finally leaving and that she’d be able to breathe properly again. He stood at the same time and suddenly their bodies were a whisper away from touching. She wanted to close the gap so badly, she had to look down to cover the surprising reaction his proximity had caused. Something was wrong—she’d known him for less than two hours! This shouldn’t be happening.

‘This isn’t over.’ The low timbre of his voice slid down her spine as he pressed two fingers beneath her chin and raised her head. ‘It’s just the beginning.’

She held her breath and stood very still, watching his green eyes glitter with promise. And then he was gone and Claire sagged into the chair, relieved to be alone.

Well, his mother was right. Claire had never met someone so determined. If he pursued her as relentlessly as he had today, how long could she hold out against his resolve? Especially when she knew, deep down, that if the circumstances of her life had been different, she wouldn’t have hesitated.

Claire couldn’t deny she was attracted to Campbell, and it had been a long time since she’d felt that about a man. It had been a long time since she’d even been with a man. And many had tried. One or two had even been quite persistent. But despite their ardour, she’d been unmoved.

It had been easy to stick to her guns when the men in question had done nothing for her. But Campbell was a real enigma. Could she honestly say she was indifferent to him?

Claire shook herself. It didn’t matter. She was still bound by her no-relationship policy and it was one she must adhere to, no matter what artillery he used to try and persuade her.

She might be appealing to him now, but Claire knew from bitter experience that initial attraction waned. She need only think of Shane to be reminded of that. Campbell didn’t know it, but she was doing this for his own good.

* * *

‘Ready for the last patient, Campbell?’ Sister Andrea Marshall asked, poking her head around his office door. She’d been nurse in charge of Obstetric Outpatients for the last five years. She had been at St Jude’s for as long as Claire, and they had done their midwifery training together.

He stretched and smiled at her, noting her keen interest. She’d been flirting with him all morning. A month ago he wouldn’t have hesitated but, since meeting Claire, all other women had ceased to exist. Still, her interest was flattering to his increasingly deflated ego. A harmless flirtation with a busty blonde was exactly the right medicine.

‘Sure, Andrea, send her in,’ he said, his mind distracted by the challenge Claire presented.

That she had been avoiding him, and quite successfully too, hadn’t escaped his notice. Still, he was prepared to wait. All good things came to those who waited. Didn’t they? And with the birth centre officially opened last week, Campbell knew she wouldn’t be able to shun him for ever.

Andrea ushered in his patient and handed him the chart.

‘Hello, Mrs Craven. I’m Campbell Deane. Congratulations on your pregnancy. Twenty weeks already.’ He smiled and shook his patient’s hand, noting the area of darkened pigmentation across her face, which was common in pregnancy and caused by hormonal changes.

‘Call me Lex, please.’

‘So, you’re planning on having the baby here at St Jude’s,’ he said, flicking through the chart.

‘Yes, Dr Deane, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Please, call me Campbell.’ He’d never been comfortable with the blind reverence afforded to doctors. His mother had always taught him that respect should be earned. He didn’t consider that what he did for a living automatically made him better than the next person. We’re all just cogs in a wheel, his mother, a midwife herself, insisted. Besides, his four sisters, three of them nurses and one a GP, were always ready to cut him down to size should he let his position go to his head.

‘I got a phone call last week from the receptionist at the birth centre—I’m in! I’m so excited.’ Her dark, wavy hair bounced as she laughed.

Campbell joined her, noting her glow of excitement. ‘Well, congratulations again.’

‘Thanks. I’ve really wanted to have my baby there ever since I heard about it.’

‘Oh, yes? And why’s that?’

‘Well, I’ve read so much about active birth and I really like the philosophy. I’ve bought and borrowed every book there is on the subject. The whole concept of a birth centre is fantastic. Kind of like a home birth but with medical back-up if you need it.’

‘I think we need to put you in charge of advertising.’ He laughed. ‘You sound like an ideal candidate. Have you thought about how you’re going to cope with the pain?’

‘I’d like the baby to be in the best possible shape when it arrives, so drug-free is my ultimate aim. I’ll try all the alternatives first. But I’m flexible. You hear enough horror labour stories to know it’s going to hurt.’

‘Good for you. I think flexibility is definitely the key.’

‘The receptionist said I needed to see you first and get a referral.’

‘That’s right, so let’s do it. Hop up on the examination bed over there.’ Campbell walked to the door and called to Andrea, who was sorting through a mountain of charts. ‘Andrea’s going to stay while I examine you. Blood pressure first.’

He pulled the cuff down from the wall and quickly took Lex’s BP. ‘Perfect,’ he said, smiling. Next he asked her to slip her skirt down slightly so he could feel her abdomen. ‘Sorry, cold hands,’ he apologised in advance. What was it with hospitals? The air-conditioning always seemed set at freezing.

Campbell shut his eyes as he gently probed Lex’s abdomen, feeling for her burgeoning uterus. He found the top and Andrea handed him a tape measure. He measured the distance from her pubic bone to the where his hand was. Twenty weeks exactly.

‘Would you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ she said with a laugh.

Andrea gave him a hand-held Doppler. It was similar in appearance to a transistor radio. He squeezed a daub of gel on Lex’s abdomen and turned the machine on. He fiddled with the volume control and turned it down until the noise was less jarring. Manipulating the transducer through the gel, he quickly located the steady whop, whop, whop of the baby’s heart.

They were all silent as the noise filled the office. Campbell loved this part. The sounds of new life never ceased to amaze him. The miracle of it all. This was why he’d become an obstetrician. He grinned at Lex and saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

‘What a beautiful noise,’ he said.

‘One hundred and sixty-four,’ said Andrea, who had counted the beats.

‘Excellent,’ said Campbell, switching off the machine and wiping gel off Lex.

He left Andrea to help her straighten up, walking back to his desk to peruse her chart once more.

‘Swabs are negative. Blood tests unremarkable. Haemoglobin good. Any foetal movements yet?’

‘I’ve been feeling fluttering for a couple of weeks now.’

‘Good,’ he said, writing in the notes. ‘Any concerns?’

‘Nope.’ She shook her head.

‘All right, then. You can give the birth centre a ring and organise an appointment for four weeks.’

‘Oh, thank you so much, Dr Deane … I mean Campbell. You don’t know how much this means to me.’ She jumped up and shook his hand vigorously. ‘Actually, I think I’ll go up there now. I haven’t seen it yet and I can make my appointment while I’m there.’

‘Good idea,’ said Campbell, grateful for this golden opportunity. Look out, Claire West. Here I come. ‘I’ll walk you there,’ he offered.

Lex Craven’s excited chatter occupied most of Campbell’s attention on the short walk. As they alighted from the lift on the fifth floor, Campbell listened less, becoming tuned into his body’s anticipation. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest and echoing in his ears.

His stomach growled, reminding him that it was almost two o’clock and he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Maybe he could persuade Claire to join him for some lunch? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

He saw her the second he walked through the doors. She had her back to him, talking to a client, and he noticed the easy way she held her body when she didn’t know he was around. She was too erect and straight when she talked to him. Like she was afraid that if she relaxed, even for a nanosecond, she might get too close.

He loved how her white uniform fitted her perfectly. It accentuated her lushness, flattering her curves and emphasising her cute derrière. It was a stark contrast to her rich olive skin and her midnight-black bob. Just watching her now, his fingers itched to feel its silky weight.

She turned to usher her very pregnant client to the door and spotted him. He watched with dismay as her clear brown gaze became muddied with caution.

‘Campbell,’ she said. ‘This is a surprise.’

Obviously not a pleasant one, he thought. In fact, looking at her expression, he felt about as welcome as a venomous snake.

‘I’ve bought Lex Craven for a visit. I’ve just given her a referral.’

Claire had to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. He was here professionally. She’d been very busy in the last couple of weeks, which, while tiring, had been advantageous. She’d seen him rarely and when it hadn’t been avoidable, her excuses to take her leave had been completely genuine. No matter how brief their contact, she never felt in control of herself around him. He made her feel … clumsy. Claire was terrified of clumsy.

‘How wonderful to meet you,’ said Claire, greeting their latest client with delight, temporarily forgetting her Campbell-induced anxiety. ‘Go on in and make yourself a cuppa,’ she said, indicating the commonroom. ‘I just need to have a quick word with Campbell.’

Campbell raised his eyebrows as Lex disappeared into the room. She wanted to chat? Was that good?

‘Campbell, I’d like you to meet Shirley Miller, one of our clients.’

‘A pleasure.’ He smiled and shook her hand. He hadn’t met her yet so his registrar must have seen her.

‘Shirley’s thirty-three weeks and her baby has just decided to go breech.’

‘Bit of a swimmer, hey?’ he joked lightly, and Shirley laughed.

‘My other three have been breech until the last four weeks.’

Ah. Fourth child, he thought. That explained her very large tummy. He would have put her closer to term.

‘Could you feel the position properly?’

‘Pretty sure it’s lying frank,’ she said.

‘Well, you’ve got a few weeks yet for the baby to turn.’

‘Here’s hoping,’ said Shirley, and held up crossed fingers. ‘I so want to have the baby here.’

‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it,’ he reassured her. ‘Did Claire give you some postures you can try at home to encourage the baby to turn?’

‘Sure did. I’m going home right now, before the kids get home, to try them out.’

She said her goodbyes and they watched her leave the premises.

‘She does understand she’ll have to deliver in the labour ward if the baby doesn’t turn?’

‘Of course, Campbell,’ Claire said testily, annoyed at her body’s response to his nearness. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t break any of your mates’ precious rules.’

‘No need to be so touchy,’ he teased, his green eyes sparkling. ‘I didn’t make the rules.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’re right. But one day, Campbell … one day I hope that we’ll be able to offer all kinds of births here.’

‘Amen to that,’ he said, hand on his heart.

‘Goodness, I can hear your cronies having apoplexy as we speak.’

He laughed heartily and his red-blonde hair flopped back. ‘C’mon, Claire. Even you’ve got to admit that breech presentation is potentially much more complicated.’

‘Potentially, sure. But you and I both know that Martin and his pals automatically think breech equals C-section.’

‘You think trial of labour first?’

‘Depends on the woman and the presenting part. There are too many variables. You can’t treat them all the same, as Martin and co do.’

‘They’re just scared, Claire. Haven’t you ever been scared?’

His question startled her. It was like he had seen right into her soul. Had she? About one thousand per cent more than anyone could know. She’d been scared for the last ten years.

‘We … we’re … not talking about me,’ she stuttered. His astuteness was unsettling.

‘Right.’ He grinned. ‘Shame … I’d much rather talk about you.’

‘Me?’

‘Us, actually.’ Campbell watched as fear and confusion reflected briefly in her eyes before she masked them behind a shutter of wariness.

‘Campbell.’ She rolled her eyes and took a step away from him. She couldn’t think when he was too close. ‘I thought you’d given up.’

‘Nope. Just haven’t been able to track you down much.’

He stared pointedly at her and Claire felt her face warm. He knew that she’d been avoiding him.

‘I’ve been very busy,’ she said, sounding lame even to her own ears.

‘Have you had lunch?’

‘No.’

‘Let me buy you some. I’m starving.’

‘I’ve brought mine,’ she replied stiffly.

‘OK. I’ll watch. I like to watch.’

Claire stared at him incredulously. Was he serious? His expression was far from it. He looked like raucous laughter was only seconds away. He was winding her up.

She rolled her eyes and smiled grudgingly. ‘I’m going to show Lex around.’

‘I’ll wait for you at your desk.’

‘Don’t bother. I’m never going to agree to go out with you.’

‘We’ll see. Never say never.’ He grinned and ducked away before she had a chance to protest.

Claire would have screamed out loud if it hadn’t been for Lex in the next room. She wanted to stomp her foot so badly, it itched. Suppressing her childish impulses, she went to join Lex.

She felt herself relax as she gave their new client the grand tour. She answered all Lex’s questions and then went back to her desk to make an appointment. She ignored Campbell, who was poking around the office.

‘I understand you’re offering antenatal classes?’ asked Lex.

‘That’s right. You start them at about twenty-eight weeks. They’ll run every Wednesday night for four weeks. Would you like me to book you in?’

‘Yes, please.’

Claire retrieved the booking diary from her desk drawer, ignoring a muscled thigh she could see in her peripheral vision as Campbell lounged against her desk. She pencilled Lex and her husband in to start in eight weeks’ time.

As Claire bade her goodbye, Campbell joined her. ‘See you in four weeks,’ said Claire.

‘Actually, I might see you tomorrow. I’ve got my ultrasound at ten.’

‘Oh, what a shame you didn’t get an appointment for today. Save you coming back again tomorrow.’

‘It was the only one available this week, otherwise it was a couple of weeks’ wait. Unfortunately Brian is away until next week so he’s going to miss out.’

‘Is someone coming with you?’ Claire asked, noticing her client’s disappointment.

‘I really don’t have anyone else. No family nearby and we’ve only just moved to Brisbane so I don’t really know anybody yet.’

Claire could feel Lex’s sense of isolation and sympathised with her. ‘Ten o’clock, you say?’ She consulted her appointment book. ‘I’m free then—would you like some company?’

‘Oh, yes, please!’ Lex’s sigh of relief was audible. ‘I really didn’t want to go by myself.’

‘I’ll meet you there at ten tomorrow.’

They watched her leave with a new spring in her step.

‘That was a really nice thing to do.’ Campbell’s low voice intruded into Claire’s thoughts.

He’d come closer again. There were only a few millimetres separating them now. Appreciation sparked in his eyes. Nothing sexual. Just recognition of another person’s kind heart.

He had the most expressive eyes Claire had ever seen. If he felt it or thought it, it was right there for the world to see. He’d obviously never had anything to hide. Claire envied him that.

‘Nonsense,’ she said, moving away. ‘Anyone would have done the same thing.’

‘No, Claire, they wouldn’t.’ His voice was serious.

‘Goodbye, Campbell.’

Claire turned on her heel and left him standing in the corridor. He smiled at her dismissal but wasn’t that easily perturbed. He followed her into the commonroom, catching up with her just as she had opened the fridge door and was rummaging around inside it. Her very appealing bottom was all he could see of her. He lounged in the doorway, allowing his male appreciation full rein. Soon enough she would dash it all with her shrewish tongue.

‘Alone at last,’ he said from the doorway.

Claire hit her head on a shelf and cursed under her breath. ‘Do you mind?’ she snapped. ‘I thought you’d gone. You scared the living daylights out of me.’ She rubbed her head.

‘Sorry,’ he said, trying to look suitably chastised.

Claire sat at the dining table, ignoring him. She opened her lunchbox as he pulled up a chair opposite.

‘Why don’t you date, Claire?’

So unexpected was his question that Claire nearly choked on the carrot stick she’d been eating. She coughed and spluttered and Campbell poured her a drink of water from the glass pitcher sitting in the middle of the table.

‘Thank you,’ she said in a raspy voice, taking a gulp of water. ‘Is it so hard to believe that some women don’t want to be in a relationship?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘Well, then, I guess I’m one of them.’

‘There’s a difference between not wanting to and choosing not to, Claire.’

‘Oh, yeah? How?’

‘Well, not wanting to indicates lack of interest. Choosing not to is a conscious decision that never allows for the possibility of something happening. It’s choosing with your head.’

‘Oh, I get it. You think I should choose with my heart.’ Sarcasm laced her voice.

‘I think you should listen to your heart. Don’t just ignore it because you decided once upon a time that you weren’t going to date.’

‘And if I did listen to my heart? What makes you think it’d lead me to you?’

‘Ah, that’s easy.’ He grinned a cheeky, schoolboy grin. ‘I’m irresistible.’

‘Oh, really.’

‘Just ask my mum.’

‘Oh, I’m sure to get an unbiased opinion there,’ she said sarcastically.

‘Hmm, you’re right,’ he mused thoughtfully, stealing a carrot stick from Claire’s lunchbox. ‘On second thoughts, ask my sisters. They have absolutely no illusions about me and they still think I’m irresistible.’

Campbell grinned again and stole a cherry tomato this time.

‘Hey,’ she protested feebly, growing weaker at the intimacy of him helping himself to her lunch.

‘I’m starving,’ he cajoled, and closed his eyes and sighed rapturously as he bit into the ripe, red flesh. ‘Hmm. This tomato is delicious. So flavoursome.’

‘My father grows them,’ she said, distracted by his moan of enjoyment and the slow trickle of juice leaving the corner of his mouth.

Campbell opened his eyes and caught Claire staring. She was watching his chin where he could feel some juice trekking slowly downwards. Her stare was so intense and hungry he couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d reached over and unzipped his fly. In fact, she might as well have, from the way his body was reacting.

‘Claire, if you’re trying to convince me that you don’t want me, staring at me like that isn’t the way to go about it.’

His words registered on a superficial level only. They didn’t penetrate her intense concentration. She knew she shouldn’t be looking but the juice drew her gaze like a moth to flame.

‘Claire,’ he whispered hoarsely.

It was a ragged, desperate sound that succeeded where his words hadn’t. She gasped slightly, dragging her eyes away, shocked at her behaviour. It was practically X-rated. Her hand trembled as she passed him a paper napkin and tried to deny how bereft she felt that he was the one wiping the errant juice away and not her.

Oh, God, get a grip. What was the matter with her? Why did this man get to her so much?

‘Is it because of him?’

‘Him who?’ she asked, wary again.

‘The man you dated years ago who broke your heart. Or so the story goes.’

‘Been snooping, Campbell?’

‘No, not at all. It’s amazing the stuff people will tell you.’

‘Mind your own business,’ she snapped, rising to wash her dishes at the sink.

‘Oh, come on, Claire,’ he persisted. ‘If I’m paying the price for his sins, surely I deserve to know why.’

‘Campbell!’ She let her exasperation show.

‘OK. I’ll leave you be if you tell me.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I promise. Cross my heart.’

She turned to assess the honesty of his statement. He looked sincere and … it was way too good a deal to pass up. His relentless pursuit was annoying. Really, it was. And pointless. And as difficult as she found even breathing when he was near, she couldn’t be with him. They had no future.

‘All right.’ Her shoulders sagged and she came back and sat at the table. ‘We were young. No, correction, I was young. A third-year student nurse. Shane was a resident. We were in love, or at least … I was in love with him. He said he wanted to marry me and then some … stuff happened to do with my family and he … he dumped me.’

Campbell sat in silence as she laid out the bones of something that had obviously been such a big part of her life. Her complete lack of emotion as she gave just the facts spoke volumes about her hurt.

‘How old were you?’

‘Twenty.’

Campbell covered her hands with his. ‘What stuff?’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ she said quietly, and removed her hands. She wasn’t going to tell a virtual stranger things that even now were too painful to think about.

‘Shane was a fool.’ Campbell’s voice held an edge of contempt.

She met his gaze and read the compassion in his emerald depths. Easy to say when he didn’t know the half of it.

‘No. It hurt for a long time but I think I’d have done the same thing if our situations had been reversed.’

It had been a traumatic chapter in her life. Her mother being diagnosed with Huntington’s disease had been a gut-wrenching time. Not to mention the real possibility that the disease could have been inherited by herself. The last thing she had needed had been her finance deserting her in her hour of need. But he had.

It’d taken the better part of a year to get over Shane’s betrayal. But with the passing of time, Claire had been able to see his side. It had been a tough call for someone in their prime, like Shane, to confront the possibility of his fiancée falling prey to a debilitating genetic illness. The hurt had dissipated but the determination not to make the same mistake with someone else lingered.

‘I don’t care what it was. If he’d really loved you, he’d have stayed.’

Claire shook her head sadly. Some things were too big, too awful to deal with. She knew that too well. ‘You, Dr Deane,’ she said, injecting a light teasing quality into her voice, ‘are a romantic.’

‘Guilty as charged,’ he grinned. ‘So, how about tonight?’

‘Campbell! You promised.’

‘Sorry, I lied. I had my fingers crossed behind my back.’

‘You tricked me.’ She glowered and marched back to the sink.

‘You can’t give up on men because of one stupid guy. I won’t let you. It’s not fair to compare me to him. Give me a chance, I’ll prove to you that we’re not all the same.’

‘Campbell,’ she sighed, turning to face him, ‘it’s not just about Shane. There are other reasons …’ Big reasons. ‘He just helped to put everything into perspective.’

‘I’m never going to give up, Claire. You may as well surrender now.’

‘I’ve been pursued by some determined men, Campbell. I’ve never surrendered.’

‘Honey, trust me. I bring new meaning to determined.’

‘Well, bring it on, honey. But be prepared to lose.’

The instant her challenge was out Claire wished she could retract it. Damn him. Damn him for goading her into throwing down the gauntlet.

Campbell grinned. He felt an energy zinging through his body and revelled in how good and alive it made him feel. She made him feel. His pager beeped and he checked the message. ‘Labour Ward. One of my ladies is in. I asked them to page me when she was ready to deliver.’

He walked slowly towards her as he talked, stopping a hand’s length away. His gaze captured hers for a long moment.

‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he said quietly, and walked away.

* * *

As it turned out, Claire reluctantly made her way to his office a few hours later with a document that required his signature urgently so she could send it off with the last courier run. Martin had been on the phone to her, harassing her about how important it was to have the document on the Minister’s desk by close of business.

Internal mail would have been way too slow and the document too urgent and sensitive to trust to this not always reliable service.

Although Claire had resigned herself to doing the job personally, she approached Campbell’s office with a great deal of trepidation, the subtle challenge in his last words resonating in her head.

His door was closed and her hand shook as she knocked softly. Claire found herself wishing he’d left for the day, despite Martin’s dire warnings, but his command to enter dashed the fantasy.

‘Oh … sorry,’ said Claire, taking in the two people sitting on the other side of Campbell’s desk. ‘I didn’t realise you had clients …’

‘Claire.’ Campbell half stood, pleasure and surprise registering on his face. ‘Come in.’

‘No. It’s OK. I’ll come back.’

‘No. Don’t go. Stay. Actually, you’ve probably got some advice for Kay and Col.’ He pulled up a chair next to the couple and she reluctantly sat down as he introduced her. ‘Kay’s pregnant with her second baby. They have a little boy who’s three and has cystic fibrosis.’

Claire was pleased now for the seat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He wanted her to give advice on a genetic illness? He didn’t know it, but he couldn’t have picked a better person!

Claire’s heart went out to the young couple. What terrible things they must have faced over the last three years, and now to have to confront the possibility of their new baby inheriting CF as well.

Every cell in her body rebelled at being part of this conversation. She wanted to get up and run. It was just way too close to home. She felt her heart beating painfully in her chest and was surprised they couldn’t hear it in the room.

‘Now … where were we?’ He turned back to his clients. ‘Oh, yes, the options. Well, you’re only eight weeks so we can still investigate the baby’s CF status with a special test called chorionic villi sampling. I can make an appointment for you right now,’ he said, picking up the phone.

‘Actually, no, Campbell, that won’t be necessary,’ said Col. ‘We’ve talked about it and we’ve decided not to do that.’

‘Ah … OK. Can I ask why?’

‘We’ve had all the genetic counselling. We know we have a one in four chance of this baby inheriting CF, and we’re OK with that. Obviously we don’t wish it for our baby but if it happens, we’ll deal with it.’

‘Well, sure. It’s your choice and you’re obviously well informed, but a test at this early stage gives you options.’

‘If we tested now and the baby was positive, we wouldn’t be doing anything about it, so what’s the point? We’ll wait for the results of the heel prick after the baby’s born, and in the meantime we’ll be doing a lot of wishing and hoping and praying,’ said Kay.

Claire admired her quiet resolve. It obviously wasn’t easy for them. They were holding on tight to each other’s hands as if one of them might fall if they let go.

Claire felt a pang and realised she envied their closeness. She gave herself a mental shake. This was crazy! When had this happened? Why would she feel jealous of this couple’s relationship? It didn’t make sense. But, then, a lot of things had changed since Campbell had entered her life—damn him!

Claire glanced across the desk at the man responsible for awakening feelings and emotions she doubted she’d ever felt before. She wanted to be angry with him but his obvious concern for this couple’s plight softened her anger—double damn him!

While Claire understood totally where Kay and Col were coming from and empathised with their plight, she could tell Campbell didn’t agree. He was being very professional. Not pushing. Trying only to keep them as informed as possible. But Claire could read him like a book.

She knew how hard it was for some health professionals, particularly doctors, to take a step back sometimes. If there was a problem, they wanted to fix it or at least investigate it to the hilt in an attempt to fix it. They were healers. Doctors didn’t like to sit back and not have the answers.

And then came the question she most dreaded.

‘What do you think, Claire?’ he asked earnestly, his green eyes begging her to support him.

She swallowed, her throat dry, trying to collect her thoughts on a subject she’d thought about every day for the last ten years.

‘I think …’ she started slowly, clearing her throat, ‘I think … Kay and Col know better than anyone what’s at stake, and they’ve obviously thought about it—a lot. You’ve done your bit, informing them of their choices, but ultimately the decision is theirs.’

‘Campbell, we appreciate what you’re trying to say. Really we do, but we’ve made up our mind.’

‘All right, then.’ Campbell smiled and stood and shook their hands. Claire stood also. ‘It was great talking to you both and I’ll see you again in four weeks. But, please, if you have any questions in the meantime, don’t hesitate to contact me, OK?’

Claire watched Campbell as he showed his clients out, courteous and professional to the end. But Claire saw dissatisfaction in every line of his body. She knew what he was thinking, she had witnessed it often enough. He felt he had failed.

‘Damn it,’ he swore softly as he paced over to his window.

‘You don’t approve,’ Claire said, not wanting to hear his answer. Anything he said next she couldn’t fail to take personally. It was too close to home.

‘They don’t need my approval Claire, I know that. It’s just …’ He raked his fingers through his glorious hair and turned to face her. ‘I think they’re going to go ahead and have a baby in the blind hope that it’s not inflicted with an awful disease which, in reality, it has a very high chance of inheriting.’

‘I don’t think they’re in denial over the risks, Campbell. I just think they’re prepared to roll the dice and go with their lot.’

‘What about the child? It’s the one that’s going to have to live with it.’

Despite understanding his sentiments, Claire could more than see the flip side. The fact that he couldn’t irritated her.

‘You think people with genetic illnesses can’t live normal, fulfilled lives?’

‘It’s a debilitating lung disease,’ he said, exasperation tinging his voice. ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you that. That child will spend the majority of its life either in hospital, taking meds or having physio and then dying too young.’

‘If he or she has it.’

‘If they take the test, they’ll know. It’ll buy them peace of mind.’

Having refused testing herself, Claire understood their reasons. How could knowing you or your child had a genetic disorder give you peace of mind?

‘Ignorance can be bliss, Campbell,’ said Claire, her voice stilted.

‘I’m just saying … if it were me, I’d want to know. If it were me, I would think twice about bringing a child into the world if there was a history of genetic disease.’

And there it was. His statement hit her square in the solar plexus. They were only words but they could sure wound. She almost staggered from their impact.

Claire knew what he meant, felt exactly the same way. Wasn’t that why she had chosen to never have a baby herself? Why she’d even denied herself a relationship, so the temptation to conceive would never be an issue?

But, still, his statement stung. Any flutterings of attraction she may have felt for Campbell she needed to well and truly quash. If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t want her. She couldn’t bear to be rejected twice.

‘But it’s not you—is it?’ Claire knew it wasn’t a decision anyone else could make for you.

‘No.’ His admission was tinged with regret. He was silent for a moment. ‘Anyway,’ he said, shaking his head and pushing away from the window, ‘You needed something?’

Claire admired his ability to change focus so quickly. She was having trouble processing their conversation. If she took nothing else away when she left the room, at least she knew where she really stood with him, even if he was completely oblivious to the fact.

‘Claire?’ he prompted, and she looked at him blankly. ‘Wait? Maybe you didn’t need anything? Maybe you’ve come to wave the white flag and go out to dinner with me?’

He laughed and she smiled despite the fog clogging her brain. He recovered easily after such a heavy conversation. He was too quick on his feet.

‘Sorry, just a signature,’ she said, handing him the document.

‘Alas,’ he mocked as he signed it and gave it back. ‘I haven’t forgotten your little challenge, Claire. In fact, I look forward to it.’

‘You’re wasting your time,’ she stated, more calmly than she felt, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

She made her way back to the birth centre in a haze of mixed emotions. Something was happening to her which she couldn’t define. It was new and unwelcome and scary and all Campbell Deane’s fault!

Before he’d come into her life she’d had clearly defined goals. Establish a birth centre. Make it strong and successful. Offer a real alternative to the women of Brisbane. Suddenly it didn’t feel enough. She wanted more.

At least she now knew his views on genetic illness. He’d unwittingly given her the perfect weapon. All she had to do was tell him the truth and watch his interest die. See him run for the hills. Just like Shane.

But she knew she wouldn’t. She’d made such a habit of concealing it she doubted she’d even know how to start. She didn’t want people to treat her differently. She might have to live with it hanging over her head but she refused to let this disease define her.

It was her deep, dark, family secret. Her business and hers alone. And now, thankfully, a constant reminder to give Campbell Deane a wide berth.