Читать книгу Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2 - Kate Hardy - Страница 18

‘SLOWLY’ meant frustratingly slowly, Melinda discovered. She’d drafted a statement for the press, with Dragan’s agreement, that they were ‘just good friends’. Which meant that in Penhally they couldn’t even hold hands or kiss each other goodnight. In a way, it went with Dragan’s insistence on taking things slowly, getting to know each other again—but she ached for their old, more physical relationship. She missed waking up in his arms, having breakfast with him.

Well, maybe not so much breakfast.

She’d lost her appetite, and even the scent of toast had turned her stomach.

Or maybe it was her period coming. She’d always been peculiarly sensitive to smells just before—

She stopped dead.

No.

She couldn’t possibly be pregnant. She and Dragan had only made love without protection that one time—the night before she’d gone back to Contarini. And it had been her safe time. Some couples tried for years and years to get pregnant; the chances of her falling pregnant on just that one night were low.

All the same, she couldn’t shift the thought from her head.

Thank heaven today was Saturday and she was only working in the morning—which meant she could drive out to Newquay in the afternoon, where she could be safely anonymous. There was something she most definitely didn’t want to buy in the village—the last thing she needed right now was gossip.

After surgery, she deliberately took a route through the back roads, knowing she’d be able to lose the paparazzi in the high-walled narrow lanes with all their twists and turns and little by-roads—months of living and working here meant she knew the roads so well that she no longer needed the map she kept in the glove box. Once in Newquay, she parked and browsed through a few shops, just in case she was still being followed. The second she was sure she was alone and unwatched, she bought a pregnancy test in the supermarket. The little cardboard box felt as if it was burning a hole in the boot of her car all the way back to Penhally. And she was careful to keep a very tight hold of her shopping bags when she carried them up to the flat—if she dropped them and the test spilled out, the paparazzi would go bananas.

Results in one minute. Just what she needed.

She read the instructions swiftly and did the test. And watched as the first line turned blue: good, the test was working.

And then she watched in horror as a blue line appeared in the second window.

Positive.

She was pregnant.

Expecting Dragan’s child.

Oh, Dio.

Two weeks ago, if someone had told her she and Dragan were going to have a baby, she would have been shocked but delighted. But now life was a whole lot more complicated. Her relationship with Dragan still wasn’t quite what it had been before she’d returned to Contarini, and she wasn’t sure how he’d take the news. Would it make things right between them again when he learned that they were going to have their own family?

And then there were her parents. She had no idea how they would react to the news. Would her mother be like a normal grandmother, forgive everything the second she held the warm weight of the baby and breathed in that special newborn scent? Or would her parents decide she was bringing shame on her royal lineage—for being pregnant and unmarried?

And when the press found out about this they’d have a field day.

She needed to tell Dragan first.

But she needed to know for sure before she told him. Because this would really rock his world—they hadn’t talked about having children, so she had no idea how he’d react. Delight at the idea of having a family of his own again? Or would it send him running scared?

She had to take this carefully.

Maybe the test was wrong. Maybe she’d done something incorrectly.

Luckily she’d bought a double pack. She drank water. Lots of it. Repeated the test. And watched the two blue lines slowly, slowly appear.

OK. Definitely pregnant. But how pregnant?

There was one person who might be able to tell her. One of her best friends in the village was a midwife: and Melinda knew Chloe would be discreet. She dialled the number. It rang and rang, and Melinda was just about to give up when she suddenly heard a familiar voice. ‘Hello?’

‘Chloe? It’s Melinda. Um, are you busy?’

‘Nothing I can’t can a break from. Are you all right?’

‘Ye-es. I don’t really want to talk about this on the phone.’

‘Got you. I’ll be there in a minute.’

‘You’re wonderful. Thanks. I’ll put the kettle on.’

But when Chloe arrived and noticed that Melinda was drinking water rather than coffee, she raised an eyebrow. ‘This isn’t just a girly chat, is it?’

‘No,’ Melinda admitted. ‘Though can you promise me you won’t say a word to anyone?’

Chloe’s eyes widened. ‘Of course I won’t! Apart from patient confidentiality, you know I’m not like that.’

Melinda winced. ‘I’m sorry. I know you won’t. I didn’t mean to…to make you feel bad. It’s just this paparazzi thing getting to me and my mouth isn’t acting in synch with my brain.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘I’m pregnant, Chloe.’

‘Are you sure? When’s the baby due?’

‘I don’t know. That’s what I was hoping you might be able to tell me.’

‘When was your last period?’ Chloe asked.

‘Two weeks ago.’

‘Then you can’t be pregnant, Melinda—you’re only halfway through your cycle.’

‘That’s what I thought. But lately I’ve been feeling as if I want to howl my eyes out—and I’ve never been the leaky tap type.’

‘You’re under a lot of stress right now,’ Chloe reminded her, ‘what with your brother dying and these photographers following you about. It’s not surprising you want to cry.’

‘And I’ve been feeling sick. And I’m off my food.’

‘Also symptoms of stress,’ Chloe said calmly.

‘And my sense of smell—it’s much stronger than usual.’ Melinda grimaced. ‘The thing is, Dragan and I…We took a risk once. The day before I went to Contarini. So I did a pregnancy test, just in case.’

‘And?’

Melinda took the test sticks from the worktop and handed them to her friend in silence.

Chloe stared at them. ‘These are just as reliable as the ones I can do, so that’s pretty conclusive.’ She took Melinda’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Well. Congratulations.’

‘I hope. Things still aren’t that good between me and Dragan. We’re taking it slowly.’ Melinda swallowed hard. ‘And you know what they say about people having a baby to patch up a relationship. It never works.’

‘Firstly, that’s not why you’re having this baby. And, secondly, Dragan loves you. He’s just a bit…well…mixed up at the moment. Not that I’ve said anything to him.’

Chloe was a total sweetheart and she’d never interfere, Melinda knew.

‘I need to tell him. But not until I know for sure how pregnant I am.’

Chloe looked thoughtful. ‘Your last period…was it lighter than usual?’

‘Yes.’ Melinda frowned. ‘Now I come to think of it, the last two were a bit light.’

‘Some women have a very light bleed for the first couple of months—it’s all to do with hormones settling down,’ Chloe said, ‘so you could be three months gone already. Did you have any spotting before the first light period?’

‘I’m really not sure. Why?’ Melinda went cold. ‘Does that mean there’s a problem?’

‘No, it just happens sometimes as the egg implants into the lining of the womb,’ Chloe explained. ‘Nothing to worry about at all.’

‘Can you do a scan?’

‘We don’t have the equipment at the surgery. You’ll have to go to St Piran for the ultrasound,’ Chloe said. ‘I can get you an appointment—and because you’re not sure of your dates and you might be three months already, they’ll fit you in pretty quickly. I’ll ring first thing on Monday morning and book you in—that is, if you want me to be your midwife?’

Melinda hugged her. ‘I’d love you to be my midwife—you’re one of my best friends and I know I’ll be in safe hands. Thank you, Chloe. I really appreciate this.’

‘Hey. That’s what friends are for.’ Chloe hugged her back. ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.’

Maybe.

But Melinda still felt the prickle of doubt all the way down her spine.

No more secrets.

Guilt flooded through Melinda. But this wasn’t a secret, exactly. Nobody knew, apart from Chloe—who wouldn’t say a word. Melinda was going to tell Dragan as soon as she knew when the baby was due. She’d make sure the time and the place were right—and she’d tell him.

But even so, she found herself picking at her meal when she went to a restaurant not far from Penhally with him on Sunday night.

And he noticed.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Just not that hungry,’ she prevaricated, pushing her plate away. ‘Sorry. I’m just a bit tired.’

‘I’ll pay the bill, then walk you back.’

It wasn’t exactly far. Just round the corner.

‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ she asked.

‘Better not.’ He moved his head very slightly in the direction of the photographer who was loitering in view of the door to her flat, reminding her that they were being watched.

It was a good thing, in a way, she thought. The smell of coffee really made her feel sick. But she missed the old days when Dragan would have carried her up the stairs to her bed. Or to his.

‘Dragan…’ She stopped. No, now wasn’t the time or the place.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Just I’m sorry I’m not good company tonight.’

‘Still not heard from Serena?’ he asked softly.

‘Yes. But there’s nothing to tell. Papà seems OK with the idea of finding an alternative solution, but Mamma…’ Melinda shook her head in exasperation.

Dragan smiled. ‘Could this be where you get your stubbornness?’

‘Very funny. I’m nothing like her.’ But she smiled back. ‘So do I get a kiss goodnight?’

‘“Just good friends” don’t kiss each other goodnight,’ he reminded her softly. ‘And we’ve already talked long enough for that photographer to get very interested. He’s just moved a bit closer.’

An added pressure on their relationship she could well do without. She sighed. ‘Goodnight, then.’

‘Goodnight.’

He waited while she unlocked the door, then smiled at her. ‘Get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.’

True. Once she had a date for her scan. And once she’d had the scan itself, it would be even better. ‘I have a day off tomorrow.’

‘Sleep in. It’ll do you good,’ he advised. ‘I’ll call you in the morning.’

Melinda had just stepped out of the shower the following morning when the phone shrilled.

She wrapped a towel around herself and hurried to answer it. Dragan? Or was it Chloe, with the news of the appointment? ‘Hello?’

‘Melinda, just what is all this about?’ Viviana asked crisply.

Melinda grimaced when she heard her mother’s voice. She really wasn’t in the mood for another fight. ‘Serena’s already told you. We worked it out between us.’

‘I don’t mean that. The headlines, child,’ Viviana said impatiently.

‘What headlines?’

‘You know very well which ones.’

‘Mamma, I haven’t seen a newspaper this morning.’

‘How long have you known that you are pregnant?’ her mother snapped.

‘I…’ Melinda was suddenly, horribly awake, as if someone had thrown a bucket of icy-cold water over her. ‘Pregnant?’

‘Unless the headlines are untrue, in which case we will be suing for libel.’

‘But…’ Melinda dragged in a breath. ‘I don’t understand how they could possibly know. I only found out myself the day before yesterday.’

‘So you are pregnant? How could you be so stupid?’ Viviana demanded.

Melinda put a protective hand on her abdomen. So much for Viviana being a delighted grandmother.

‘Unmarried and pregnant by a Croatian refugee!’ Viviana made an exclamation of contempt. ‘Well, you have your wish. We cannot possibly crown you queen of Contarini now. Even if you get rid of the baby, the scandal will stick to you and damage the monarchy. I thought Raffi was the reckless one, but you—you have gone even further!’

No ‘How are you feeling?’, Melinda thought. No ‘When’s the baby due?’. No ‘How’s the morning sickness?’. No interest in anything except the wretched monarchy.

Exactly the same way it had been for her entire life.

‘As far as we are concerned,’ Viviana said, ‘you are no longer our daughter.’

Melinda blinked. Had she just heard that right? ‘You’re disowning me?’

‘Given how little loyalty you have shown to us, why do you sound so surprised?’ Viviana said scornfully. ‘You are no longer part of our family. And I wish you well with your Croatian refugee.’ She spat the word as if it were an insult. And then she hung up.

Melinda stared at the phone in disbelief.

Her family had just disowned her.

And then something really horrible occurred to her.

If her mother had seen the papers…She had to reach Dragan before he saw them. She had to tell him the news before the paparazzi scooped her.

She glanced at the clock. Half past eight. Would he still be at home? Please, please don’t let him have left for the surgery yet. She called his mobile.

‘The mobile phone you are calling is switched off. Please leave a message or send a text.’

She couldn’t tell him the news by voicemail! ‘Dragan? It’s Melinda. If you pick this up before I speak to you, please ring me urgently. I need to talk to you. It’s really, really important.’ She hung up and tried the surgery number.

Engaged.

As it always was at this time on a Monday—the rush time after the weekend, when people who’d been feeling rough over the weekend rang to get an appointment to see the doctor.

Well, she’d redial as many times as she had to until she got through.

And she’d have to hope that she caught him before his first appointment.

The waiting room was practically silent.

This definitely wasn’t normal, Dragan thought. People usually chatted to each other; Penhally was a warm, friendly place, and the surgery here wasn’t the inner city waiting rooms full of silent strangers avoiding each other’s eyes.

‘What’s happened?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ Hazel mumbled, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

‘Have the press been harassing you again?’

She shook her head.

He glanced round at the waiting room; people shuffled in their seats and looked away. But the second he looked back at Hazel, he was aware of people staring at him. ‘Why is everyone staring at me?’ he asked softly.

She looked really embarrassed, and handed him the newspaper in silence.

The headline on the front page screamed at him: THE DOCTOR’S ROYAL LOVE-CHILD

And suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

It took a huge effort and every bit of concentration he possessed to walk into his consulting room. He stared at the page and read it over and over again, but he couldn’t take the words in.

Melinda was pregnant.

With his child.

And once again the press knew all about it before he did.

Why the hell hadn’t she told him?

So much for her promise of no more secrets.

She’d lied to him yet again.

Or was this some elaborate bluff, some excuse to get her out of being the queen of Contarini?

Or—even worse—had she planned the whole thing? Was this why she’d asked him to make love to her without protection the night before she’d gone away, knowing what her family would ask of her? She’d been so emphatic about it being her safe time. Had it been yet another layer of lies? Had she deliberately tried to get pregnant by a man she knew her family would never accept?

Feeling used and angry—and convinced now that Melinda had never really loved him at all—he picked up his mobile phone and speed-dialled her number.

It was engaged.

Great. Just great. His world had been turned upside down and shaken like a child’s snowglobe, and he couldn’t even talk to her about it.

To hell with the paparazzi and playing nice. He wanted answers. If he had to kick her door down to get them, he damned well would. Grimly, he keyed in a short message—a message he knew would get a reaction—and sent it to her mobile phone.

He flicked the intercom to let Hazel know he was ready for his first patient.

And then, after surgery, he’d have it out with Melinda.