Читать книгу Brought Together by Baby - Margaret McDonagh - Страница 8

‘I SEE.’ Gus had struggled to mask his bitter disappointment, hurt and confusion. ‘Why can’t Holly tell me herself?’

Julia had sighed, shaking her head. ‘That’s Holly for you. She gets in too deep and expects someone else—me—to do her dirty work.’

Irritation rose within him—not just because Holly had stood him up but because she had chosen not to do the decent thing and say so herself. Not to mention the fact that she had kept things from him … like the existence of a sister. Given that he’d opened up to her about his past as he’d never done with anyone else before, with Holly professing her understanding about why family was so important to him, it was even stranger that she’d declined to tell him the truth about her own. It seemed out of character for the Holly he knew. But maybe he didn’t know her after all. Wary and cautious, he’d begun re-establishing his protective guard, afraid his fledgling trust had been misplaced.

‘May I sit down?’

Julia’s query had cut through his thoughts. He’d wanted to say no, to be left alone so he could retreat to his room to think over Holly’s rejection—a rejection witnessed by colleagues present in the bar.

Sensing that he and Julia were being watched, Gus reluctantly succumbed to politeness. ‘Of course,’ he invited, waiting as she pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him before good manners drove him to prolong the awkward and unwanted encounter. ‘Would you like a drink?’

A smile curved her mouth. ‘Thanks. A vodka and orange, please.’

Gus rose to his feet, pausing with one hand resting on the table as light-headedness assailed him. He made his way to the bar, conscious of people looking at him, and along with Julia’s drink he was grateful for the glass of iced water the landlady gave him.

‘Still feeling rotten, Gus?’ the kindly woman asked him.

He nodded in assent, regretting it immediately when the headache hammering inside his skull intensified. ‘Unfortunately, yes,’ he admitted, managing a smile.

As he made his way back to his table Gus noticed Julia bending forward, apparently engrossed with something he couldn’t see. Before he could rejoin her he was waylaid by one of his colleagues, who was pulling on his coat and on the point of leaving.

‘Gus?’ Dr Trevor Wilkinson—a registrar, Strathlochan born and bred, who had recently returned to work in A&E following a long spell of illness—rested a hand on Gus’ arm, detaining him. ‘You don’t look well. The medication not helping?’

‘The pills have improved things. I just react badly to them,’ Gus admitted wryly, understanding for the first time why some patients complained that the side-effects of the medication they were prescribed were as bad as, or worse than, the condition with which they’d been diagnosed.

Trevor gestured to the glasses Gus was carrying. ‘You’d do better taking it easy on the alcohol, then!’

‘Mine’s water—I don’t drink.’

‘Good. You’ll need all your wits about you,’ the registrar advised cryptically.

Gus frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

‘You’re playing with fire,’ Trevor replied, lowering his voice so those nearby couldn’t hear. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Gus.’

The comments puzzled him, but Trevor was gone, edging through the crowd, before Gus could question him further.

Perplexed by the conversation, Gus returned to his table. Julia, still with her back to him, glanced round briefly, before making a couple of furtive movements out of his sight, but by the time he sat down and met her gaze she was smiling at him, the picture of innocence.

‘Thank you for this,’ she said, taking a sip of her drink.

Gus nodded, still nonplussed and knocked off-kilter by the events of the evening. Feeling too warm, he shifted along the banquette away from the heat of the log fire, his hand coming into contact with his mobile phone as he did so. He’d had no idea it had slipped from his pocket. Surreptitiously he checked the screen, but there were no tell-tale indications of missed calls or texts. What had he expected? That Julia was wrong and Holly had tried to contact him? Disenchanted, his hopes dashed, he refocused his attention on the unwanted companion opposite him.

‘What happened between you and Holly?’ he forced himself to ask, taking a long drink of ice-cold water.

Julia looked sad, but resigned, and the story she told him of her estrangement from her younger sister touched his heart, resonating as it did with his own lack of family. And he couldn’t help but be further disappointed in Holly. Not only had she listened to his explanation about his background but she’d professed her sorrow and understanding. She had even cried for him.

Had they been crocodile tears? It appeared so. If Holly had understood, surely she would have told him about Julia. In one night the only woman he’d ever believed himself in love with had rejected him publicly in front of their colleagues, and he had discovered she had also lied to him by omission. What else didn’t he know about her?

Hurt, upset and confused, he drained his glass before leaning back and closing his eyes. His head was pounding. The virus and the pills were still affecting him, leaving him feeling hot and cold at the same time, his whole body aching, and occasional waves of nausea gripping his stomach.

‘Are you all right?’ Julia asked with concern.

‘I’m sorry.’ He might be a loner, and unused to socialising, but he disliked rudeness, and guilt assailed him for his lack of manners. Gus gave himself a mental shake. ‘I’ve not been feeling too good.’

Julia rose elegantly to her feet and picked up his empty glass. ‘Let me get you another drink. Unless you’d rather have a coffee or something to eat?’

‘No!’ His negative response was swift, the very thought of coffee and food causing his stomach to rebel once more. ‘Just water. Thanks.’

Julia soon returned, this time choosing to sit next to him on the banquette. Disconcerted, Gus nevertheless welcomed the glass of water she handed him, which this time had twists of lemon and lime in it.

‘Thanks,’ he murmured, taking a long drink. It tasted a bit odd, but he was thirsty enough to ignore it—although he did set the citrus slices aside.

‘If it’s any consolation, Gus, it isn’t you. Holly’s shy of commitment. This is by no means the first time that she’s led a man on and given him false hope,’ Julia informed him sadly, the scarlet-tipped fingers of one hand coming to rest on his jean-clad thigh. ‘I think it stems from her engagement all those years ago.’

Diverting his attention from her unwanted touch, Julia’s latest revelation delivered another hammer blow. Gus reeled, turning to Julia in shock.

‘Holly was very young—still a teenager,’ she continued, looking into his eyes, her own gleaming large and wistful. ‘She and Euan were childhood sweethearts—Euan was besotted with her. At the eleventh hour Holly dumped him. Aside from the embarrassment of cancelling arrangements, returning presents and explaining to everyone, Euan was devastated.’ She paused a moment, her expression sombre. ‘There was no reasoning with Holly. She refused to talk with Euan again. Since then she’s done what she’s doing with you … allowed men to get close, only to back off when they want to take things further.’

The engagement was another thing Holly had failed to tell him about. Why? If he was to believe her sister, it was all Holly’s fault. He didn’t want it to be true … it was contrary to all he had thought Holly to be. But after this evening he couldn’t help but wonder who Holly really was and if she’d fooled him completely.

Gus ran a hand through his hair in agitation, wishing his head would clear as he struggled to reconcile what Julia had told him with the Holly he had thought he knew. Feeling increasingly fuzzy-headed and out of sorts, he took another drink.

‘Poor Gus,’ Julia sympathised, leaning closer and resting her arm around his shoulder. ‘This is the last thing you need when you’re feeling so ill. Holly should be here, caring for you.’

‘I’m OK,’ he refuted, frowning in confusion as he heard himself slurring the words. What was wrong with him? He felt worse now than when the virus had been at its most virulent.

With a wry laugh, Julia gave him a hug. ‘Sure you are.’

‘I’m used to being alone.’

‘Me, too,’ Julia confided, all trace of humour gone. ‘And that’s so sad … for both of us.’ She paused, head tilted to one side as she studied him. ‘You should be in bed, Gus. Come on, I’ll help you to your room.’

Finding it difficult to focus on anything, Gus felt too ill to argue. He craved the sanctuary of his room, and allowed Julia to assist him as he summoned his last reserves of energy and struggled to his feet, swaying alarmingly. Julia remained at his side, holding him steady, and he draped an arm around her to brace himself.

He vaguely remembered walking unsteadily out of the bar, but he had no recollection of the journey down the pub’s corridor, nor the arrival at his room. Nor did he have any memories of what had happened next. Only that he’d woken in the morning with a thudding headache, horrified to find that not only was Julia real, and not a figment of his fevered imagination, but she was curled up next to him in bed … and both of them were naked.

Edging away from her, he’d flung an arm across his sore eyes and stifled a groan, a rush of confusion, guilt and self-disgust sweeping through him. The virus, pills and disappointment over Holly’s rejection were not sufficient excuses for his behaviour. And he’d compounded that bad behaviour by pretending to be asleep when Julia stirred so he wouldn’t have to face her. Thankfully she’d seemed as keen as he to avoid a post-mortem as she’d risen and swiftly dressed before quietly letting herself out of his room.

He hadn’t wanted to talk with Julia, but that had been as nothing compared to his reluctance at the thought of seeing Holly—of not only dealing with what he had done, but confronting her about her rejection and the various things she had kept from him. A fresh wave of nausea had assailed him.

Illness had kept him in bed and away from work for another twenty-four hours. Had he known in advance how terrible his return to A&E and the scene with Holly were going to be, he might have stayed in bed for ever.

He’d certainly had no idea how horribly that wretched night would come back to haunt him, destroying his relationship with Holly and resulting in the announcement that Julia was expecting his child. An announcement that had led him into an unwanted, loveless marriage with only months to prepare for his unexpected role as a father.

It had terrified him

It still did, he acknowledged, reality slamming him back to the present. For now he had to push all the pain and emotion of the past from his mind and focus on the baby. His baby—for whom he had sacrificed himself and endured months of unhappiness.

With Julia.

Without Holly.

He listened as Shaun Haggerty responded to Holly’s suggestion about the baby’s prematurity. ‘We will, of course, continue to observe him closely.’

‘You said there was another problem?’ Gus prompted, grateful they were moving on from the awkward issue of conception.

‘Yes.’ The consultant opened a file, glancing at something before looking up again, apology in his eyes. ‘I don’t like to press you on such things at this distressing time, but my concern is your son’s health. So I need to ask … Was your wife drinking during her pregnancy?’

Gus sat back in shock, totally unprepared for the question. ‘No! Absolutely not,’ he refuted, a sick feeling in his stomach.

There was much about Julia he didn’t know. There had been times when her mercurial temper and unpredictable mood swings had made life especially difficult. But surely he would have noticed something so far amiss?

‘There’s no alcohol in the house. I don’t drink, and I never saw Julia drink after she knew she was expecting a child,’ he continued, feeling the gentle squeeze of Holly’s fingers. ‘She found pregnancy difficult—she was quite ill. And she gave up smoking, too. She knew her health was important for the baby.’

Or so he’d thought.

Mr Haggerty nodded and wrote a note in the file, but his frown remained. ‘I had to ask, Gus, I’m sorry. There was an almost empty bottle of gin in the car, and tests have revealed that Julia was more than three times over the drink-drive limit. We need to know if this was a one-off aberration or something that might have a longer-term effect on your baby. There’s no evidence of foetal alcohol syndrome, but we’re running tests to be on the safe side.’

Gus swore under his breath. He was stunned. And angry. Julia had relied on him to take her wherever she’d wanted to go, claiming she didn’t drive, so he had no idea why and how she’d taken his car—or where she’d been. The news that she’d been irresponsible enough to drink excessively before getting behind the wheel astounded and infuriated him. It was bad enough that she’d brought about her own injuries, but to risk the life of others, including her unborn child, was unforgivable.

He met Holly’s gaze and saw the dismay and concern in her sky-blue eyes. They both knew what long-term alcohol consumption could do to a growing baby, and he hoped with all his heart that Julia’s rash behaviour that day was the aberration the consultant suggested and nothing worse. His son had enough to battle against without inherited alcohol problems on top.

Whatever else had occurred between them, and however hard things had been in recent months, he knew he’d been diligent in his care of both Julia and the baby. But he hadn’t been there twenty-four hours a day. Nor had he been Julia’s keeper. He’d trusted her to keep her side of the bargain … that she’d do all she could to protect herself and their unborn child. Now that trust had been broken in the worst possible way.

‘I want to see my son,’ he announced gruffly, releasing Holly’s hand and rising impatiently to his feet.

‘Of course. And you will … very soon,’ the consultant placated him, gesturing back to the chair. ‘If you can bear with me a little longer, Gus? I know this isn’t easy for you, or for Holly, but I have to ask you about Julia.’

Unsettled, and overwhelmed by the myriad emotions fighting inside him, Gus reluctantly sat down again, feeling bereft without the comfort of Holly’s hand in his. He was alarmed that he’d felt the once-familiar kick in the gut and tingle down the spine when he’d looked at her. He felt guilty for his response to Holly, and even guiltier for begrudging Mr Haggerty the time he wanted to spend talking about Julia. On a human level he felt deep shock and sadness for her, but the only thing driving him on was a desperation to see his son.

He met Holly’s gaze, unable to read her thoughts. She was clearly deeply affected by events—her support had been genuine—but he was less able to gauge her feelings about her older sister. They’d not been close. He smothered a humourless laugh at the understatement. He understood little of the complex situation between the two women—a situation he’d been unwittingly drawn into.

Not that he was in any position to judge the level of Holly’s grief for Julia. He felt the pressing weight of guilt and shame as he forced himself to admit the truth. That whilst he would never have wished this tragedy on Julia, the primary rush of emotion he’d experienced was not grief, as everyone assumed, but relief.

Relief at being freed from the loveless, lonely marriage they’d endured these last months … months when they’d played their roles well enough to convince those around them that their relationship was real.

Holly had no idea what Gus was thinking, but when she felt the full force of his smoky green gaze on her she was unable to prevent a quiver of reaction. Her hand still tingled from his touch. She’d been unable to resist the urge to reach out to him, driven by the emotion in his voice when he’d learned about his son. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she recalled the way he’d responded, taking her hand, linking their fingers and holding on tight, creating a shared bond between them … one that had seemed so natural months ago but which now left her confused and puzzled.

Gus looked away, releasing her from his magnetic hold. A ragged breath whispered from her. Without the comfort of holding his hand she felt bereft and alone. The shock of all that had happened was taking its toll, and the tension between Gus and herself made everything more difficult. She was still angry at the way he’d so publicly rejected her and made her the centre of gossip. The pain and betrayal at the knowledge of Julia’s pregnancy had never lessened. Now the baby was here, having survived a traumatic birth, and she was swamped by a rush of conflicting emotions.

After months of attempting to put distance between them, the last thing she wanted was to spend time with Gus again, and yet her first instinct on learning of the tragedy had been to run to him. Clasping her shaking hands together, Holly glanced at Gus. They’d been united by events and a shared concern for the baby, and somehow she had to find a way of putting her jumbled feelings about Gus aside.

Gus remained silent and remote, so Holly forced herself to ask the question that was hanging in the air. ‘Wh-What about Julia?’

Mr Haggerty sighed and shook his head. ‘There’s no hope for her, I’m afraid. As I explained, her injuries were so severe that, had it not been for signs of life from the baby, she would have been declared dead at the scene of the accident. In order to save the baby and maintain his oxygen and blood-flow, she was placed on life support. We’d like your permission to turn that off. But first there’s the delicate issue of asking you to consider the possibility of organ donation. I appreciate how difficult it is, but you know time is critical. My advice, for what it’s worth, is to look to the future … to the miracle of this baby,’ the older man finished with sympathy.

‘Holly, what do you want to do?’ Gus asked gruffly, taking her by surprise by including her. ‘Did Julia express her views to you on donating?’

‘I know she didn’t carry a donor card, but we never discussed it. Personally I’m fully in favour of giving someone on the transplant waiting list the chance of a better life, but I’ll support whatever decision you make,’ she told him, conscious that helping others had never been a high priority for her sister.

‘Like Holly, I support the donor programme. Let’s hope that along with the baby some good can come from this tragedy.’ A silence stretched heavily for a long moment before Gus continued, his voice raw. ‘I think we should take medical advice and let Julia rest in peace.’

Holly was relieved they were on the same wavelength—on this, at least. ‘I agree. It’s the right thing to do, Gus.’

‘I know it isn’t an easy decision, but I hope the knowledge that other people’s lives will be saved might help a little,’ Mr Haggerty offered, scribbling notes in the file. ‘And I can assure you Julia will be treated with every care and respect.’

‘Thank you.’ Gus’s tone was stiff and guarded. ‘Will there need to be an official identification?’

Holly sucked in a breath. This was something she hadn’t thought about. She glanced at Gus but could read none of his emotions. What must this be doing to him? And how could he bear it if he had to identify Julia? There and then she decided that if he was called on to perform the task he would not be doing it alone. It was the last thing she wanted, but she would be there for him—even though his pain and grief over Julia twisted the knife ever more cruelly inside her.

‘As I said, the police will be speaking with you and helping you through the aftermath of this dreadful event. There’ll be a routine investigation, and you’ll be kept informed of the outcome,’ the consultant told them, rolling his pen in his fingers. ‘But you won’t be asked to identify her. The police are satisfied with the chain of evidence … and I’m sad to say the accident has rendered her facially unrecognisable.’

Although relieved that she and Gus would be spared one trauma, Holly wrestled with the disturbing reality of Julia’s injuries. What a tragic irony that in death her sister had lost the thing she’d most valued in life—her looks. She couldn’t bear to think of the horror Julia had experienced, or how much she might have known and suffered. However bad their relationship, however much Julia had hurt her, and however much she’d hated her sister’s betrayals—most recently and painfully with Gus—she would never have wished such a devastating accident on her.

‘Does Julia have any unique distinguishing marks?’

Mr Haggerty’s question drew Holly from her thoughts. To her surprise Gus remained silent, his gaze averted, and realising he must be in shock, and had no intention of answering, she spoke up. ‘There’s her tattoo.’

‘A tattoo? Can you describe it?’ the consultant asked, raising one thick dark eyebrow.

‘Julia had it done at sixteen as an act of rebellion,’ Holly explained. A shiver ran through her as she recalled the uproar her sister had joyfully provoked over the tattoo. ‘There were big rows—especially with our father. It’s of a mouth—scarlet lips, shaped as if blowing a kiss—and there are words around it.’

‘What words? And where is the tattoo?’ Mr Haggerty queried, making notes.

A soft bloom of colour pinkened her cheeks. ‘It’s on her right buttock, and the words read “Kiss my butt”,’ she admitted with a nervous laugh, her blush deepening.

‘Very distinctive,’ Mr Haggerty replied, with a small smile of his own.

The brief moment of unexpected and embarrassed humour failed to lessen the tension that hung in the room, and Holly felt increasingly conscious of Gus’s brooding presence. Gus, who had hurt her so badly and who, despite everything, she could not abandon, even though his grief for her sister and the reality of their baby only magnified her own pain.

Holly jumped as the shrill sound of a pager broke the silence.

‘That’s mine,’ Mr Haggerty confirmed. ‘Excuse me a moment.’

As he reached for the phone on the desk and made a quick call Holly met Gus’s gaze, her heart squeezing at the distant, withdrawn look in his gorgeous green eyes. The chasm between them seemed more intimidating than ever. The days ahead would be difficult, and with no idea what the future held in store she felt anxious and uncertain.

‘There’ll be other questions, I’m sure, but I think we’ve covered all we need to for now,’ the consultant said softly, putting down the phone and closing the file. ‘That was my registrar calling from PICU. They’ve finished the current tests and the baby is now settled and stable.’

‘Thank God.’

Gus’s heartfelt words and the shimmer of moisture in his eyes made Holly’s chest tighten. Her voice wavered as she asked the question she knew Gus wanted answered as urgently as she did. ‘Can we see him now?’

‘Of course,’ Mr Haggerty allowed, standing up and rounding the desk.

As Gus rose swiftly to his feet Holly followed suit, disconcerted by the frown he shot towards her. What was he thinking? Was he cross about the moment of laughter over Julia’s tattoo? Or didn’t he want her to see the baby? Filled with stubborn determination, she raised her chin in challenge. However difficult it proved to be, and however much it deepened her own pain and sense of emptiness, no one—not even Gus—would keep her from her nephew.

After offering his condolences and his continuing support, Mr Haggerty shook their hands. Then, smiling broadly for the first time, he opened the door and issued the longed-for invitation.

‘Gus, it’s time for you to meet your son.’