Kitabı oku: «A Family Worth Waiting For», sayfa 6

CHAPTER FIVE

CLAIRE woke at 4.30 to the first signs of the encroaching dawn. Campbell’s hand rested, heavy and warm, on her flat stomach. She looked into his face, relaxed in slumber, his hair flopping in his eyes, and remembered how it had looked last night, animated with passion. She suppressed the urge to kiss his, oh so tempting mouth. That would probably wake him, and Claire had to get going.

Her mother would be awake in an hour and it was imperative that she be home. Claire always tried to be there first thing, to attend to her mother’s personal needs. It allowed her father, who got up twice a night to change Mary’s position, to get as much sleep as possible before he began his long day caring for his wife. It also preserved her dignity—what was left of it.

As she gazed on Campbell’s sleeping face, her heart contracted with an emotion too frightening to analyse. Thinking about her mother was just the bucket of cold water she needed to bring her back to reality. Last night had been a mistake. She should have been stronger.

It wasn’t fair to become involved with him when she knew that one day she might end up like her mother. She didn’t want Campbell to have to go through what her father was now going through—no one should have to.

And what if he didn’t want to? Shane had wasted no time in leaving after the bombshell had hit. And he had been in love with her—supposedly. She couldn’t bear being rejected like that again.

And what about Campbell’s desire to have children and his feelings about bringing children into the world when a genetic illness existed? Her decision to remain childless would deny him the baby he yearned for, and he’d made it quite plain that he wouldn’t want one with mutant genes anyway.

No. It was better this way. There were too many reasons they couldn’t be together. Claire gently removed his arm and slid out from under the sheet. She gathered her clothes in the semi-gloom and quickly put them on. Campbell didn’t stir. It took every ounce of her self-control to walk away.

* * *

Campbell knew the instant he woke up that he was alone. Somehow he wasn’t surprised. Disappointed was a better word. Being with Claire had been fantastic. Not just the sex. It was about more than that. Snuggling close as they’d drifted off to sleep had somehow seemed natural. Right. It would have been perfect to have woken up and been able to reach out and touch her. Talk to her. Tell her he loved her.

Yes, Campbell thought, rolling onto his back, he loved her. There was no sense denying it or trying to wrap it up any other way. Holding her, kissing her, making love to her last night had cemented his realisation. He had fallen for her hard. He basked in the truth.

But did she love him? Somehow he suspected that it was still too early in their relationship for Claire. So could she, or rather would she, allow herself to love him, too?

The afterglow that he’d woken with was starting to fade as the questions kept coming. How should he proceed? What he wanted to do was make a huge romantic declaration. He loved her and he wanted to share his feelings with her. Hell, he wanted to shout it to the world.

But the sensible part of him urged caution. It had been a long, hard slog getting her to agree to a date, and that had only eventuated because he’d shamelessly taken advantage of her at a weak moment. Getting her to fall in love with him was a big call.

Campbell acknowledged he was going to have to be patient. Not one of his best traits. But if that’s what it required, he was willing to give it a go. He’d woo her slowly, subtly, and before she knew it she’d be declaring her undying love. He needed a plan.

He puzzled over it for a few minutes, formulating a recipe for success. Yes, he mused, it was all about the three Ps. Patience. Persistence. Presence. The last one particularly. It would be important to see her as much as possible. Show her the time of her life, make her see what she’d been missing all these years.

Not just lots of sex, although that’d be nice. No. It was about more than that. It was about having fun together, laughing, talking, sharing. Lovers’ stuff. And no pressure. Just always being there until she couldn’t recall what life had been like without him. Until she said those three little words.

* * *

‘Good morning, Shirley,’ Claire greeted the new mother as she entered the room.

‘Hello, Claire. Goodness, what have you been up to? You’re glowing!’

Claire blushed. She felt like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

‘You should talk.’ She grinned at her client. ‘I could see your I’ve-just-had-a-baby glow from the car park.’

Shirley laughed and Claire breathed a sigh of relief that she’d successfully turned the conversation back to Shirley.

‘Davy get you up much?’

‘A few times,’ Shirley confirmed.

‘Is he feeding well?’ Claire sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the sleeping baby’s head.

‘Seems to be. He’s attached much better than the other three ever did. Maybe I’ve finally got the hang of it.’ She laughed.

‘Where’s Graham? Didn’t he stay?’

‘No, he went home with the kids early last night. He’ll be back to pick me up around lunchtime. That should be OK, shouldn’t it?’

‘Don’t see why not.’ Claire smiled. ‘Why don’t you put him down and I’ll check how you’re doing?’

Shirley placed the sleeping baby in his clear plastic crib and lay down on the bed. Claire took her temperature, pulse and blood pressure and then gently palpated Shirley’s abdomen.

‘Tummy’s going down nicely,’ Claire confirmed. ‘How’s your loss?’

‘Still heavy,’ said Shirley, used to such personal questions.

‘Any afterpains?’

‘Initially, yes! But Graham got me a hot pack, which helped. They’re a bloody nuisance. After all you go through with labour, you’d think that’d be it but, oh, no!’

Claire smiled and agreed with Shirley. Some women, more commonly those who were on their second or subsequent babies, found these pains, caused by the contracting uterus, even worse than labour. Most found them uncomfortable, like heavy period pains, but a few even needed pain relief when they occurred.

‘Well, I’ll have whoever’s on call for Paediatrics come and check little Davy over, and then you should be able to go.’

‘What about his day-three heel prick? Will they do that at the clinic?’

‘You can, but the hospital has a community midwife service that can do that for you. I’ll call them on Monday and they’ll come out to your home and do the heel prick there. You’ll also be able to talk to them about any concerns.’

Claire left Shirley to shower and pack. She wandered into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, her mind completely preoccupied with the events of last night. She took the tea into her office and sat down at her desk, staring absently out the window.

She worried her bottom lip as snippets of their conversation and flashes of their love-making came to her unbidden. It had been a wonderful evening. Perfect in every way. Except for the fact that it should never have happened.

Goodness only knew what Campbell was thinking about it all. Would he assume there was more to come? Would he expect that? She could hardly blame him if he did. What if he thought they were now a couple?

Claire took a sip of her lukewarm tea. Had she really been staring into space that long? She put her cup down and firmly pushed her thoughts aside. She had a lot to do to organise Shirley’s and Davy’s discharge.

She made a note in her diary for Monday to organise with the community midwifery service a home visit to Shirley. Next, she paged the paediatric registrar covering for the weekend. He answered promptly and agreed to come straight away. Claire collected the paperwork together, writing her own notes and filling in the discharge form.

‘Hi, Claire.’

She’d been so preoccupied with her work she hadn’t heard the swing doors open. ‘Hi, William. I was so pleased when it was you who answered the page.’

Dr William Casey and Claire had known each other for many years. They had a good relationship, which had flourished, despite her rejection of his advances when they’d first met. He was very easygoing and had taken it in his stride.

‘Only one more year of this awful shift work and then private practice here I come.’

Claire laughed. William had wanted to be a paediatrician for ever and had been steadily working towards that goal.

‘You’re not selling out, are you?’ she mocked.

‘Claire, Claire, Claire,’ he tsked. ‘You really have problems with the establishment, don’t you?’

‘Nah. Getting too old for that now.’ She laughed.

William stood up straighter in the doorway, his eyes narrowing, speculation causing them to gleam.

‘Something’s not right,’ he mused. ‘You look … different.’

‘Different?’ she enquired, trying not to blush. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Yes, you look like you’ve just been … Oh, my God! He did it, didn’t he? He won. He wore you down. Campbell, the old dog! Well, well, well.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, William,’ Claire blustered, trying to look affronted.

‘Oh, I see. Not going to kiss and tell, huh? Don’t worry, Claire, your secret is safe with me.’

‘William,’ Claire sighed. ‘You’re the biggest gossip this hospital has ever known.’

‘Yeah, you’re right. Guess that’s bad luck for you.’ He laughed at her unimpressed face. ‘Got a baby for me?’

Claire was grateful for the change of subject and led him in to Shirley before she succumbed to the urge to throttle him.

A gossip he might be, but a more thorough doctor was hard to find. ‘Sorry to disturb you, little mate,’ he whispered to the baby as he picked him up out of his cot and unwrapped him.

Davy opened sleep-bleary eyes but didn’t look too cranky at the intrusion. Even when William flashed a torch in his eyes, checking for the red reflex of the cornea, he didn’t object. William assessed all five reflexes that newborns should have, and then flipped him on his tummy. He visually inspected, as well as physically checked, by running his finger down, Davy’s spine to make sure it was complete.

Davy did object when William performed the test for clicky hips. He howled and went a very impressive shade of red as William applied pressure through his little bent knees down into the hip joint.

‘Sorry, little mate,’ he soothed, rubbing the newborn’s tummy as he checked that both testicles were descended.

‘Good time for a feed,’ said Shirley. ‘If you’ve finished?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ William agreed. ‘Nothing like a full stomach after such a harrowing experience, hey, little man?’ William crooned as he handed Davy to his mother.

‘Has he passed urine yet?’

‘Several times,’ Shirley confirmed.

‘Any meconium yet?’

‘Oh, yes!’ Shirley laughed. ‘I’ve saved it for you if you want to check.’ She laughed again. Having done this for the fourth time, Shirley knew that black, tarry bowel motions were best left alone.

Mercifully William didn’t stay on after he passed little Davy for discharge. He left straight away but did manage a lewd wink at Claire before he shut the door.

She escaped to her office, once again cursing under her breath. Great, it was going to be around the hospital in five minutes flat. Of that Claire had no doubt. By the time Campbell got to work on Monday it’d be so blown out of proportion they’d be practically married. So much for one night of passion. No one was going to believe that was the extent of it.

Oh, well, Claire decided, rearranging the stuff on her desk, she’d weathered years of St Jude’s gossip before. She could do it again. Once people realised that she and Campbell weren’t an item, the talk would die down and be completely snuffed out once a juicier titbit came along.

Claire heard Shirley’s family arrive and went out to greet them. Graham had brought the other three kids and they were all very excited, jostling to be the first to hold their new baby brother.

While Graham supervised the children, Claire finalised things with Shirley.

‘Now, page me if there are any problems. That’s what I’m here for—all right?’

‘Sure thing,’ Shirley agreed, as she signed the discharge papers.

‘Here’s your appointment for your six-week check,’ said Claire, handing the card to her. ‘Expect a phone call on Monday about the heel prick. I’ll see you in six weeks, but remember—’

‘I know, any problems and you’ll be the first to know. I promise.’

‘Good.’ Claire grinned as she accepted Shirley’s hug of gratitude.

She saw them out the door. It was quite a noisy goodbye and Claire was still smiling when she shut the door and started on the clean-up in Shirley’s room.

Claire was making the bed, her last chore, when she heard the swing doors open.

‘Hello. Anyone here?’

Campbell’s voice reached out and touched her, even from the other side of the wall. She groaned inwardly. She wasn’t ready to face him just yet. She hadn’t had enough time to work out what to say to him.

She knew what had to be said but hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to face him so soon after having seen him naked. After he’d seen her naked. How could you tell someone that one night of mind-blowing sex was it and expect them to believe you? Because that was what she had to say. There could be no more.

Claire contemplated hiding somewhere, quickly scanning the room for a good position, but discarded the idea just as quickly. How juvenile! Never put off till tomorrow what you could do today. Right? She took a deep breath and went out to him.

‘Hi,’ she said quietly, coming to a halt in the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, feeling weak from her reaction to his presence. He was in casual mode again, looking even more delicious than last night, kind of rumpled and content. Damn her weak body! Claire had to grind her shoes into the floor to stop herself running into his arms.

‘Hi, yourself.’ He smiled.

They stared greedily for the longest time. Campbell moved towards her, reaching out. She very nearly gave in to the temptation. Heaven knew, she wanted to feel his body against hers so badly she ached.

But at the last moment sanity prevailed and she backed away from him into the room. It didn’t matter how much her body ached, she had to think with her head. There were things to say.

She crossed back to the bed and picked up the sheet, busying herself. Claire could feel the intensity of his gaze fill the distance between them.

‘I missed you this morning.’ His quiet voice broke into her activity.

‘Help me with this?’ She nodded for him to get the other side.

He crossed until he was opposite her. One bed and ten years of baggage between them.

‘We need to talk.’ Claire fussed, getting the corners just right as she spoke. ‘I’m really sorry—’

‘Please, don’t say you’re sorry last night happened.’

‘No. Campbell, I don’t mean … I’m not sorry about last night. I should be. I shouldn’t have let it happen, but … it did and, no, I’m not sorry.’

‘Oh, Claire.’ Campbell sat down heavily on the halfmade bed, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. ‘Don’t do that to me.’

‘What I was going to say,’ she said, sitting down on her side, ‘was that I’m sorry but the cat is out of the bag. As far as the hospital grapevine goes anyway.’

‘Already?’ Campbell whistled. ‘How did that happen? Were they looking through the keyhole?’

‘No.’ Claire laughed. ‘William Casey came and did the discharge check on little Davy. He guessed.’

‘Guessed?’

‘Yeah, I know. Crazy, isn’t it? He reckoned I looked different and put two and two together.’

‘Well, you do have that thoroughly kissed look.’

‘I … I do?’ Claire pressed a hand to her mouth.

‘Very much.’

Claire’s eyes dilated as his hungry gaze followed the movement of her hand to her lips. She felt as if a hand had grabbed her insides and was squeezing. She heard the texture of his breathing roughen and felt hers fall into sync.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway, Claire. Let them talk. Our relationship is our business.’

Claire stood up and moved over to the window. He’d just mentioned the R-word. This was what she had feared would happen. She sensed things would get out of hand if she didn’t put a stop to his fanciful thoughts right now. One roll in the hay did not a relationship make. Right?

‘It matters to me, Campbell.’

‘Why?’

‘Because … it was just one night.’ She turned to face him. ‘We don’t have a relationship. Last night was great. But wrong. I’m sorry if us sleeping together led you to believe differently. It shouldn’t have happened and it’s not going to happen again.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I’m not going to let it. I seriously don’t know what came over me last night, Campbell. But it doesn’t negate the reasons I have for not dating or getting involved. They still exist.’

‘So, what was last night, then?’

‘Last night was a serious error in judgement. A very pleasant one but … I guess I just didn’t expect to be so swept away. It’s been such a long time for me …’

‘So you used me last night?’ He stood and paced and Claire didn’t need to look at him to know he was angry.

‘No. It wasn’t like that!’

‘No? Seems to me I was a convenient body to ease years of sexual frustration.’

Claire felt wounded by Campbell’s unfair judgement of her. She had obviously hurt him, but he knew how to wound her just as effectively.

‘Look, we went on a date. I was very attracted to you—’

‘I know the feeling.’

‘I wasn’t thinking about the future. I wasn’t thinking at all. We were kissing and one thing led to another and … I was just feeling, Campbell. I wasn’t thinking. I never promised you a relationship. I never promised you a happily ever after.’

‘Well, pardon me if I assumed certain things while you were half-crazy with lust last night.’ His voice was icy.

‘Lust, Campbell. Lust. You said it.’

‘I didn’t think you were that kind of woman.’

Claire’s head snapped up as his accusation hit home.

‘What? You mean the kind who indiscriminately sleeps with someone and then dumps them the next day? I’m sorry, I forgot that was a man’s prerogative.’

Campbell stopped pacing and pushed his hands through his hair. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said placatingly, rubbing his eyes. ‘That was unforgivable. Claire … I just want to be with you. Let me be with you.’

‘I don’t want to be with you,’ she said, turning away from him so he couldn’t see the lie reflected in her expression.

‘You’re a liar.’ His voice was calm. Emotionless.

‘Just go, Campbell,’ she said quietly.

‘This isn’t over, Claire,’ he warned. ‘Every time your head hits your pillow, you’re going to be thinking about me. About me inside you. I hope it drives you mad. As mad as it’s going drive me.’

Claire heard his footsteps retreat and it took all her willpower to stand her ground. Her arms shook with the effort of keeping them firmly planted on the window-sill. She would not call him back. It was better this way.

* * *

Later that day, Claire found herself back at the birth centre with another of her clients in labour.

The birth stretched into the night and she paged Barbara Willis, the night-shift midwife, to tell her not to bother coming in as she would stay until her patient had delivered.

Finally around three a.m. the tiny baby boy made its entry into the world, much to Claire’s delight and the mother’s relief. Baby Jonathon slept on obliviously as Claire fussed around, settling him into the mobile crib.

The first embers of dawn were glowing in the heavens when Claire finally left St Jude’s. She yawned as she pushed open the front door. Two nights with little sleep had really taken their toll. But her work wasn’t over yet.

Claire poked her head into her mother’s room. She was awake, as Claire knew she would be. ‘Hello, Mum,’ Claire said softly. She opened the curtains to admit the early morning sunshine. ‘How about I read you the paper and then I wash your hair?’

The pump that delivered hourly metered doses of a special nutritional formula into her mother’s feeding tube beeped that it was empty, and Claire switched it off. She opened the newspaper that had been on the front lawn and thumbed through it with one hand and stroked her mother’s hand with the other. Claire picked out stories she felt would interest her mother … had once interested her anyway.

She looked into her mother’s vacant, staring eyes. Who knew what went on inside her head any more? Speech had been difficult for a few years and non-existent for a year now. Did she understand? Claire wanted to believe that she did.

One thing was for sure, seeing her mother like this reinforced her reasons for rejecting Campbell. She’d definitely done the right thing.

Campbell … Would he be awake yet? Would he still be mad with her? Spending time with her mother like this always left her feeling flat. It was like looking into a mirror. She was scared for her mother and anxious of what would become of her father after …

It would have been so nice to go to Campbell, crawl into bed beside him and have him hold her until all her fears went away. To confide in him.

She shook herself. What was wrong with her? Surely years of denial had annihilated such temptations? Had sleeping with Campbell triggered these feelings? She should have known it’d be more complicated than just two people having sex. Intimacy was never that straightforward—that’s why she had avoided it!

She pushed these confusing thoughts aside as she lifted Mary onto the mobile shower chair with ease. Years of nursing had taught her to lift properly and, despite the nightly supplements, her mother had wasted away to practically nothing in the last year.

The en suite bathroom had been modified as her mother had become more dependent, so there was ample room for Claire to shower her mother and wash her hair. She chatted as she saw to her hygiene needs, prattling on about baby Jonathon and baby David.

Claire yearned to tell her about Campbell. Confide in her mother as daughters the world over usually did. But something held her back. Telling her mother made it seem like they were involved. And they weren’t.

All these thoughts whirred around in Claire’s head as she finally collapsed into bed a couple of hours later. Fortunately they weren’t enough to halt the pressing need for sleep. She closed her eyes and for the first time in a long time it was not her mother she dreamed about as sleep claimed her. It was Campbell.