Читать книгу The Gift of a Child - Sue MacKay - Страница 8

MITCH KNEW HE was hallucinating. Too many strong coffees. Had to be. Nothing else would explain why he thought he saw Jodi Hawke standing here in his office. He shut his eyes tight, concentrated on removing that unnerving image from his brain. Slowly raised his eyelids. There. Leaning against his door. Jodi Hawke. No, not leaning. More like melting into the door, becoming a part of it. As in an attempt to remain upright.

A Jodi lookalike, then. The Jodi he’d known had had more confidence than a one-hundred-metre sprinter. Through narrowed eyes, he studied this apparition. Worn jeans hung loosely off her hips. A shapeless, faded cotton jersey bagged from her breasts and over her tummy, while scuffed trainers on her feet completed the strange picture.

The Jodi he remembered had been a fashionista. She’d certainly never gone for the ragdoll effect. And she’d definitely never been quiet, let alone silent.

God, what had been in those coffees? Definitely something weird and potent. His eyes drooped shut as the need to continue sleeping washed over him. It had been a big day made huge after a multi-car pile-up on the motorway. He’d attended to five seriously injured people, not to mention the usual number of patients continuously filing through the department. No wonder he was exhausted and seeing things. Then a nag set up in his skull. Wasn’t he supposed to be going somewhere?

‘Mitchell,’ squeaked the lookalike.

Jodi never squeaked. Through sheer willpower he did not move, not even an eyelid. Until his mouth let him down, demanding, ‘Tell me this is a joke.’ A very sick joke. But there’d be no reply. He was hallucinating.

‘Mitch, damn you. Look at me.’

He snapped forward so fast his neck clicked and his eyes opened into a wide stare. His feet hit the floor with a thump. ‘You’re real.’ He knew that voice, had heard it against his chest in the heat of passion, had felt it lash him in anger.

‘What else would I be?’ Her eyes bored into him, unrelenting in their determination to get his attention.

She certainly had that in spades. What was she doing here? Should he be worried? Nah, couldn’t see any reason for that. But after three years she just waltzes in through his door and tells him what to do? No way, sunshine. ‘A bad dream.’

She winced, and a whole ton of emotions blinked out at him from those unnerving eyes. Anger, hurt, shock, caution. But the overriding one appeared to be fear. Jodi was afraid of him? That had him standing upright faster than a bullet train. Nothing was making any sense. They hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for so long there was nothing between them now; not good or bad. Yet now she looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but here with him. Odd since she had been the one to walk in unannounced.

Even in the deep quiet of night, when nothing stirred except his memory, he’d never believed Jodi would want him back. Jumping the gun a bit, aren’t you? She’s probably passing through and decided to look you up for old times’ sake. As if. It had hurt beyond comprehension when she’d kicked him out and before he’d left Dunedin he’d often started towards her place to beg for a second chance, only to back off, knowing Jodi would give him most things but never that.

So why was she here? She didn’t do casual. Whatever had brought her through his door must be serious.

Apprehension crawled up his back. Somehow he managed to drawl with feigned nonchalance, ‘Jodi, long time no see.’ Three years five months, to be nearly exact. Tension overlaid tension in his weary body. And he’d thought he’d forgotten all about her. Forgotten making love with her in the long grass above the beach in summer. Forgotten how her laugh always made him feel he could slay dragons. But he’d been kidding himself. Big time.

Now his gaze was back to cruising, checking out that wacky, totally unstylish hair, the eyes that weren’t bordered with a pail of war paint, the non-lipsticked lips bruised where she must’ve nibbled for hours. So she still did that.

What had happened to this woman? He struggled to recognise her for who she’d been. A bright, sparkly woman with a figure any model would die for and the accessories to match. An intern adored by patients and staff alike. The only woman he’d even considered doing something way out with—as in settling down and buying the picket fence with. Everything he remembered about her had disappeared. All gone. Replaced by a stranger. Or so it seemed.

‘What brings you to Auckland? I presume you’re still living down south.’

‘Yes, I am.’ She still leaned against the door. ‘At least, I did until today.’

‘You’re on the move? Anywhere exciting?’ What the hell’s this got to do with me?

‘I don’t know about exciting. But I’m shifting to Auckland for a while.’ She choked over that last word. Tears glittered on her eyelashes.

Oh, God, she hadn’t taken a job in ED? Here? In his department? No, don’t be daft. Who would’ve sanctioned that if not him? Think about it. She wasn’t trained to work in an emergency department. The tension in his belly backed off a notch. So, what was her visit about? Had she really turned up for a chat about old times? Nah, not at this hour of the night.

He stamped on the flare of sympathy that drawn face caused, and parked his backside back on his chair. Stretching his legs under the desk, he started at the beginning. ‘You arrived today and already you’re knocking on my door? Do you need a job? Because I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m overstaffed as it is.’

‘No, I don’t need a job.’ She swallowed. ‘Actually, I will do at some point but that’s not why I’m here.’

There was a relief. But the tension gripping his muscles didn’t relax at all. ‘So this is a social call?’

Another swallow. Then her tongue moistened her lips. And that fear in her eyes grew. ‘No,’ she croaked.

Mitch studied her carefully as a sense of falling over the edge of a cliff began expanding deep inside him. Jodi hadn’t spoken more than two sentences to him—and, yes, he remembered what they’d been, word for word—from the day she’d put his packed bags on the front doorstep of the flat they’d shared and said goodbye. Even his explanations about helping seriously injured people hadn’t softened her stance. Neither had telling her he needed just another year of putting in long hours and then he’d be set for life, would have the career he wanted and a whole lot more time for her. In the end he’d swallowed the hurt, sucked up his pride, and got on with his life. Like he did with most things. Except his brother.

But Jodi’s departure from his life had hurt far more than he could’ve ever imagined. What had started out as fun had turned into something deeper but, being him, he’d realised that far too late. After he’d lost her. So really she’d done him a favour, saved him from himself. It had been his only foray into something resembling a proper relationship and he’d sucked at it. As he’d known he would. But he’d have liked the opportunity to rectify his mistakes.

But Jodi Hawke didn’t do second chances.

Besides, he knew all about the fickleness of relationships. All relationships, not just the boyfriend/girlfriend ones. Hell, Jodi was just one in a line of people who’d hurt him by disappearing out of his life. Which was why he did the moving on, usually quite quickly. Easier to protect himself that way. But he’d been in love with Jodi—as close to being in love as he’d ever been before or since—and had hung around too long, thinking it might work out. That she might be the one to see past his disillusionment. Of course he hadn’t done anything to try to keep her.

The break-up had been behind his speedy move up to Auckland. He couldn’t stand the thought of bumping into her at any corner within the hospital, in any bar or nightclub in town. Shifting cities had turned into a wise career move that had helped him clear his horrendous student loan and buy himself a modest house. And he’d shown his brother he was also capable of having an outstanding career.

Damn it. Jodi did this to him in a matter of minutes. Brought back the heartache, the guilt and doubts.

Someone knocked on the door and Jodi shot across the room looking completely flustered. Mitch shook his head at her. What the hell was wrong? This timidity was so not Jodi. Something terrible must’ve happened to her in the intervening years. His heart rolled. He might be wary about seeing her again, but if anyone had hurt her they’d better watch out, be prepared to answer to him.

‘Hey, Mitch—oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you had company. I’ll catch you some other time.’ Aaron might be talking to him but his eyes were fixed on Jodi.

Mitch shook his head again, and focused on the guy who ran the night shift in ED. ‘Is everything all right in the department?’ Hopefully it was ripping busy and he could get out of here, go to work and forget his unwanted visitor. Problem or no problem.

Aaron waved a hand through the air. ‘All good, no worries. I was going to read over the terms of the TV company’s visit next week, nothing important.’

How was that for an understatement? None of his staff, including Aaron, were happy about the documentary a national television company was making about life in a busy emergency department, and it fell to him to make it work, even when he agreed with his staff. Visitors in the unit, especially ones the board forced on them, were a pain in the butt, getting in the way, asking crazy questions, upsetting staff and patients. ‘I’ll catch up with you tomorrow sometime.’

‘Sure.’ Aaron took one more appraising look at Jodi before glancing at his watch. ‘You should’ve clocked off hours ago, Mitch. We don’t need you hanging around taking up space.’

Mitch grimaced. Thanks, pal. Go ahead and make Jodi welcome while you’re at it, why don’t you? ‘I’ve got other things to attend to first.’

Aaron raised his eyebrows. ‘Yeah, sure. Weren’t you going to Samantha’s party?’

The party. That’s what had been niggling at his half-baked brain about the time he’d seen Jodi slumped against his door. ‘I’ll be on my way in a moment.’

‘You won’t have missed much. Sam’s parties don’t usually crank up until near midnight.’ Aaron glanced at Jodi, back to him, fixing him with a not-your-usual-type look before slipping out of the office and closing the door noisily.

Closing Jodi in with Mitch. Again. He sucked air, steadied that shaky feeling in his stomach and tried for normal. ‘Want to tell me why you’re here? Because, as you heard, I am busy. I’m meant to be somewhere else.’

She didn’t even say, ‘When aren’t you?’ Which he admitted she had every right to do, that having been the crux of their break-up way back then. Instead, she surprised him. ‘Mitch, can we go somewhere to talk?’ Her gaze clashed with his and she didn’t back off. Something resembling the strength he’d always associated with her slipped into her gaze, pushing that fear sideways. ‘Somewhere quiet where no one will interrupt us.’

There was a warning in her voice that gave him the impression that something terrible was coming. Yet for the life of him he couldn’t imagine what. Whatever it was obviously wouldn’t wait. Which made him want to stall her for as long as possible. He didn’t want to hear her out. Opening his mouth to say no, he said, ‘Just give me a minute while I grab some coffees and tell the night staff to leave us alone. We’ll be undisturbed in here. I see no need to leave the hospital.’ Except those gathering clouds in her eyes.

‘I think you’d prefer to hear what I have to say somewhere else, neutral territory if you like.’ Her bottom lip trembled. ‘With no one you know likely to burst in on us.’

‘As you heard, I’m going out tonight.’ He nodded at his overnight bag against the far wall. ‘I need to shower and change so I’d prefer to get this over right here. Whatever this is.’ Why did he feel such a heel? Could it be the pain darkening those toffee-coloured orbs? Did he have some lingering feelings for her? No, definitely not. Crazy idea. But he should cut her some slack, at least until he’d heard her out. They’d lived together for six months so he owed her that much. ‘So, do you want coffee?’

‘No, thanks. Nothing.’ She dropped onto the spare chair. The fingers she interlaced were white. She looked so tiny, all shrunk in on herself, and when she lifted her head to face him he gasped.

‘Jodi?’ Her eyes stood out like snooker balls against her colourless cheeks. Was she ill? Please, not that. Anything but that. His heart lurched and he had to fight the urge to wrap her up in his arms. Shelter her from whatever was troubling her so much. ‘What’s wrong?’

She swallowed, opened her mouth, and whispered, ‘We have a son. You have a son.’

Wrong, wrong, wrong. That was not how she had meant to inform him. What had happened to easing into telling him about Jamie? She’d been going to explain the situation carefully, one thing at a time, not hit him over the head with a baseball bat. Now he’d never hear her through. The arguments were already building in his eyes.

Nausea roiled up and she gripped the sides of the chair, forcing her stomach to behave. Her teeth bit down hard on her lip, creating pain to focus on. There was nothing she could do to take the words back. There would be no starting again. No second chance. So get on with it, tell him the rest.

He was staring at her as though she’d gone crazy, his head moving from side to side in denial. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘It’s true.’ Again nausea threatened, stronger this time. She had to get this over, tell him everything. But he was already saying something.

‘Jodi, Jodi. I don’t know what’s behind this but your outrageous idea won’t get you anywhere.’ When she opened her mouth to reply he talked right over her. ‘It’s been done before.’

‘What?’

‘You’re not the first woman to try using her child to get me to set her up in a lifestyle she thought was her right.’

‘What?’

‘Last year a nurse from the surgical ward insisted I was the father of her unborn child. Wanted to get married in a hurry before everyone noticed. What she really wanted was the wedding, my wage packet and the supposed fancy house. She played me for a fool. She lied, she lost.’

Where was the rubbish bin? Every office had one somewhere. Her hand over her mouth, Jodi frantically looked around as her stomach threatened to evict the few chicken nuggets she’d eaten earlier.

‘Hey, Jodi? Oh, hell. Here.’ A plastic receptacle appeared under her nose. A hand pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her over the bin.

Don’t be sick. Don’t. Swallowing the bile in her mouth, she slowly counted to ten, fighting her stomach. Sweat broke out on her forehead. Her hands were clammy. Breathe. In, out. In, out. The nausea began to recede. But she daren’t pull back from that bin just yet. ‘I’m sorry.’

Why was she apologising? And for what? Feeling ill? Because another woman had done the dirty on him? For giving him the news no man liked to hear? She’d hardly started. He hadn’t heard the worst yet. He still didn’t know about Jamie’s illness. That’s when he’d take her seriously. And really hate her. Because he’d understand what she wanted from him.

She lost the argument with her stomach.