Читать книгу Adopted: One Baby - NATASHA OAKLEY, Natasha Oakley - Страница 6

RAFE’S eyes narrowed, but other than that he schooled his features not to react. It was, after all, none of his business.

Even so, he couldn’t help but have an opinion on a statement like that. It was repulsive.

And it was going to shock anyone who heard it. The general assumption was that she’d want to take on the care of her sister’s baby. Even Ellie thought it… and she knew Lorna better than most.

But clearly not well enough.

The uptight blonde seemed to have no intention of doing anything that might conflict with the way she’d arranged her life. He might have some sympathy for her not wanting the responsibility of a child—he’d avoided it himself—but he couldn’t like it.

Selfishness was unattractive. Always. And with a motherless baby girl needing someone to love and nurture her he thought it inexcusable. Family was everything. And anything else was always going to be a poor alternative.

‘I don’t know anything about babies.’ She brushed a hand across her face, clearly defensive. ‘I don’t like them. And they don’t like me.’

Rafe said nothing. What was there to say? He didn’t know a great deal about babies himself. Time bombs waiting to explode, he thought them. But…

This was an exceptional situation. Under these circumstances, surely one would simply get on with it?

He looked at her curiously. Lorna had to be colder than ice to seriously contemplate putting her sister’s daughter in foster care. Because that was what her refusal would mean. Did she realise that?

‘I’m sorry,’ Ellie said, returning and shutting the door. ‘Everything’s fine with Baby Benjamin. How are you feeling?’

‘B-better. Much better.’

Lorna didn’t look in Rafe’s direction again. No doubt ashamed. And with reason.

‘Good.’

Rafe took in his sister’s warm smile, and the real concern in her face as she looked at her friend—he didn’t understand it. Normally she valued kindness over and above any other virtue. If Lorna were that cold, why did Ellie like her so much? And she did. Lorna Drummond was one of the few people Ellie had conscientiously kept in touch with over the years.

He looked at the nervous twitch of Lorna’s hands, the tight hold of her mouth. She was tighter than a bowstring. Beyond grief, he thought. Frightened.

‘Why don’t you slip your cardigan off?’ Ellie suggested, sitting down and pulling a pile of papers towards her. ‘It’s kept very warm in here for the babies. Then… we’d better get the business side of this out of the way, so I can introduce you to your niece.’

Rafe stood up and held out his hand for Lorna’s empty teacup. She passed it over with the merest flick of a look in his direction.

‘I’ll wait downstairs in the Bistro for you,’ he said, with a glance at his sister as he set the cup and saucer on the table. ‘There’s no hurry.’

He turned in time to see Lorna pull at the oyster-pink ribbon holding her cardigan together. Like her skirt, the cardigan shrieked money. Whatever else Ms Drummond was, she wasn’t financially challenged. No reason there for her to refuse to care for her sister’s baby.

Ellie was going to be disappointed. And he hated to see her rose-tinted view of humanity challenged.

‘Thanks, Rafe.’ His sister smiled, first at him and then at the woman opposite. ‘My car is at the garage, and since Rafe has nothing to do…’

‘But serve you,’ he agreed smoothly, picking up his jacket.

Perhaps he was being too hasty in judging Lorna? She’d only said she didn’t want to take on responsibility for her sister’s baby, not that she wouldn’t.

There was no doubt it would be a steep learning curve for her. Not that he imagined for one second much of the actual care would be done by her. Not exactly the ‘yummy mummy’ type, Ms Drummond.

‘I’ll see you later.’ He nodded at Lorna. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you. Again.’

The door clicked shut.

Ellie smiled. ‘Rafe’s been very good to me since Steve left. And it’s so nice to have him near again rather than travelling all over. He’s just bought a place on the outskirts of Framley…’

Lorna couldn’t think what there was on the outskirts of Framley, baring Priory Manor, but she wasn’t particularly interested in where he’d bought a house. She was just glad he’d left and taken his disturbing presence with him.

Rafe McKinnion seemed to have the ability to fill a room simply by being in it. And it made her uncomfortable. He’d always made her feel uncomfortable. Right back when he’d been the boy every girl had secretly hoped would take them behind the bike sheds. A little bit bad… and a whole lot fascinating.

‘I’m so sorry about Vikki. I know you two weren’t close, but…’ Ellie trailed off and reached for a brown file among the pile of papers on her desk. ‘Had you spoken to her recently?’

Lorna shook her head. ‘I sent her an e-mail last Christmas and she replied to it.’ Lorna rubbed a hand up her arm. ‘She must have been pregnant then, but she didn’t tell me.’

‘So you’ve no idea who the father might be?’

‘I’d long since stopped asking if she was seeing anyone.’ It had been too difficult. Vikki’s life had been so different from anything she would ever want for herself. ‘I should have tried harder. I could have helped her, perhaps.’

‘You weren’t to know she was expecting a baby. Not if she didn’t tell you.’

But she should have known. Wasn’t that the point? They’d been sisters. Sisters should share things, care about each other…

It was all too late now. Vikki was gone… and she felt numb about it. Why hadn’t she cried? There must be something lacking in her that she couldn’t cry for her own sister.

‘I don’t know how I feel.’ The words were wrenched out of her. ‘I haven’t cried. Not once.’

Ellie reached out and touched her hand. ‘Early days, hon. There’s no right or wrong way to feel, and there’s no use pretending you feel something if you don’t. Vikki was a difficult person to be close to.’

Lorna drew in a shaky breath. Glad beyond description that it was Ellie sitting the other side of the desk. Glad for the gentle touch on her hand and the understanding that shone from her eyes.

She sniffed—and she never sniffed. She looked round for her handbag, to find the small packet of tissues she always kept in the front zipped pocket. ‘What do I have to do here?’

‘Primarily, meet your niece. And I need some contact details from you…’

Lorna nodded. She felt so tired. Normally she was the type of woman who got things done, took control of situations, but here, now, she felt as if she was clawing through fog.

‘Where are you staying?’

‘Mum’s old house. Vikki lives—lived—there.’ She put her bag down on the floor. ‘I dropped my things off there before talking to the police.’

Ellie wrote down the address. ‘How much have the police been able to tell you about the accident?’

‘They don’t seem to know much about it yet. No other cars seem to have been involved. Vikki had no alcohol in her system.’ Lorna put a hand up to her temple and tried to remember exactly what she had been told. ‘They said one of the paramedics noticed Vikki was having contractions…’

Lorna felt her throat tighten. She couldn’t bear to think of Vikki trapped in the wreckage. It was too difficult, too graphic.

‘Vikki had an amniotic embolism,’ Ellie began, after a moment. Her voice had become matter-of-fact, exactly what Lorna needed. Facts appealed to the scientific part of her brain. She could deal with facts. Respond appropriately.

‘It’s rare—usually fatal for both mother and baby.’

‘Wh-what is it, exactly?’

‘It’s where—’ There was a hesitant knock at the door, and Ellie stopped. ‘Yes?’ It opened, and the student midwife entered carrying a plate of buttery toast. ‘Ah, thank you. You’ll probably feel much better when you’ve eaten something.’

Lorna smiled her thanks, even though she’d given up adding fat to her food more than three years ago. Future cholesterol issues seemed very insignificant right now.

The door shut and Ellie continued. ‘An amniotic embolism is where the amniotic fluid is forced into the mother’s bloodstream. As I’ve said, it’s incredibly rare, and usually fatal for both mother and baby.’

But not this time. This time the baby had survived. Lorna picked up a triangle of toast and took a bite.

‘Your niece is a little miracle. Baby Drummond, as we’ve been calling her, was born by emergency Caesarean section at 5:06 a.m. on the 26th. We’ve estimated her to be at about thirty-four weeks’ gestation, but Vikki didn’t seem to have had any antenatal care anywhere.’ Ellie looked down at her notes. ‘Baby scored three in the Apgar test—’

Lorna didn’t even try and understand what that meant. Three out of what? Five? Ten? She could tell from her friend’s expression that it wasn’t good.

‘But she’s now holding her own beautifully, and I imagine she’ll be discharged towards the end of the week. Maybe sooner. She really is doing that well.’ Ellie looked up. ‘Lorna?’

Lorna looked up too, with a start. ‘I’m sorry. I was trying to work out if I knew where Vikki might have been thirty-four weeks ago.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve got no idea. No use, am I?’

‘Concentrate on what you can do.’ Ellie smiled gently. ‘I think you need to see baby. She’s beautiful. You’re going to love her.’

From a distance. That was all she was capable of. She was all cared out. Surely Ellie knew that?

‘She’s a really good birth weight for a prem baby. Her biggest difficulty has been that she suffered severe birth asphyxia.’

Lorna tried to concentrate on what Ellie was saying, but it was desperately difficult. She obediently washed her hands once more, and walked towards the small ward of maybe six incubators. Or were they called cots? Plastic cots.

And only two were filled. ‘This is Benjamin. He weighed two pounds fourteen ounces at birth, and is a real fighter. And this,’ she said moving along one, ‘is your niece.’

Lorna looked down at Vikki’s baby.

It was unbelievable. Her sister’s baby. Tiny. Hands so perfect. Skin almost translucent.

‘She wouldn’t be in Neonatal now if Vikki was here to look after her. She really has done tremendously well.’

‘Does she have to have the tube up her nose?’ Lorna asked, feeling… overwhelmed. By everything.

‘It’s a nasogastric tube. A feeding tube. If there are no complications I expect it’ll be removed in the next twenty-four hours. She’s taking all her feeds by hand now.’

A sharp pain ripped through Lorna’s head once more.

Vikki’s baby. There were photographs of Vikki with the same mop of dark hair. A small bundle of potential.

‘Do you know what Vikki wanted to call her?’

Lorna shook her head. She’d no idea. None. How awful was that? They’d never once discussed what they might call their children. Never talked about favourite names.

She couldn’t even do that for Vikki. She felt tears prickle behind her eyes.

‘No? Well, that was a silly question, really, if you didn’t know she was pregnant. But she needs a name, all the same.’ Ellie looked up from the sleeping baby. ‘What are you going to call her?’

‘Me?’

‘She can’t be Baby Drummond for ever.’

Lorna’s hand moved to rest against her stomach. A name? Vikki would probably have chosen something slightly alternative. Maybe Delilah… or Lola? Or…?

Her mind was a complete blank. She might not be the earth mother figure everyone was hoping for, but she wanted to get this right. A name stayed with you for life.

‘Choose something you like.’

‘Katherine.’ Her voice was husky. She’d no idea where that name had come from. Pulled from somewhere deep within her. ‘I’ll call her Katherine,’ she said, more firmly.

‘Nice.’ Ellie reached for a pen and wrote ‘Katherine’ on the notes hanging off the end of the bed, then leant over the cot. ‘Hello, Katherine. Your auntie is here, and you’ll soon be going home.’

‘She can’t go home with me.’ Lorna’s voice rang out, overloud. She hadn’t meant it to sound like that.

Ellie unbent and looked at her.

‘I—I want to make everything lovely for her. I do. But she can’t live with me.’

‘Lorna—’

‘I don’t know anything about babies.’ Her voice rose in a mixture of panic and desperation. ‘I’ve never even held one, and—’

‘There’s nothing that needs to be decided this moment,’ Ellie cut her off. ‘Don’t rush it. I’ll put you in touch with all the interested parties. Decisions can come later. Much later. You’ve got a lot to adjust to.’

But Lorna knew better. You couldn’t grow up with someone, share their secrets, and not know that if their situations had been reversed Ellie wouldn’t have hesitated. Katherine would have had a home, been loved.

‘There are lots of options for Katherine’s future. You’ll need to think carefully about them all. It’s important we get it right. She’s already lost her mum. That’s a tough start for anyone.’

Lorna glanced back at Katherine. She was sleeping. Her right hand was curled into a fist and resting against her cheek. ‘What will happen to her?’

‘If she doesn’t have a relative to take care of her, you mean?’

Lorna nodded.

‘Most probably she’ll be fostered while everyone makes every effort to find one.’

And if there aren’t any? Lorna didn’t need to ask the question out loud.

‘Eventually she’ll be put up for adoption. But not until everyone is certain her father isn’t going to step forward and claim her. There’s plenty of time.’

It was what she’d thought she wanted. All the way over on the plane. But it felt different when you were faced with a person not an ‘it’. Lorna brushed her hair back off her face, feeling the heat and the stress. Pain thumped through her temples. If she could just sleep. She was sure everything would be clearer then.

‘Did you come in by taxi?’ Ellie asked, watching her.

‘Yes.’

‘Then Rafe and I will take you home.’

Home. It had never really felt like a home. Not like Ellie’s. Ellie’s and Rafe’s. Their home had been full of comfy sofas, real coffee and walls of books. A wonderful, magical, warm place.

Their mother hadn’t screamed for constant attention or taken a cocktail of pills to keep her alive. And, unlike Lorna’s mum, she hadn’t relied on either of her children to run the house for her.

‘You don’t need to—’

‘We practically pass your front door.’

‘Will Rafe mind?’

Ellie laughed. ‘Why should he? I’ll take that as ayes, then.’