Kitabı oku: «A Family Worth Waiting For: The Midwife's Miracle Baby», sayfa 3

He had the most expressive eyes Claire had ever seen. If he felt it or thought it, it was right there for the world to see. He’d obviously never had anything to hide. Claire envied him that.

‘Nonsense,’ she said, moving away. ‘Anyone would have done the same thing.’

‘No, Claire, they wouldn’t.’ His voice was serious.

‘Goodbye, Campbell.’

Claire turned on her heel and left him standing in the corridor. He smiled at her dismissal but wasn’t that easily perturbed. He followed her into the commonroom, catching up with her just as she had opened the fridge door and was rummaging around inside it. Her very appealing bottom was all he could see of her. He lounged in the doorway, allowing his male appreciation full rein. Soon enough she would dash it all with her shrewish tongue.

‘Alone at last,’ he said from the doorway.

Claire hit her head on a shelf and cursed under her breath. ‘Do you mind?’ she snapped. ‘I thought you’d gone. You scared the living daylights out of me.’ She rubbed her head.

‘Sorry,’ he said, trying to look suitably chastised.

Claire sat at the dining table, ignoring him. She opened her lunchbox as he pulled up a chair opposite.

‘Why don’t you date, Claire?’

So unexpected was his question that Claire nearly choked on the carrot stick she’d been eating. She coughed and spluttered and Campbell poured her a drink of water from the glass pitcher sitting in the middle of the table.

‘Thank you,’ she said in a raspy voice, taking a gulp of water. ‘Is it so hard to believe that some women don’t want to be in a relationship?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘Well, then, I guess I’m one of them.’

‘There’s a difference between not wanting to and choosing not to, Claire.’

‘Oh, yeah? How?’

‘Well, not wanting to indicates lack of interest. Choosing not to is a conscious decision that never allows for the possibility of something happening. It’s choosing with your head.’

‘Oh, I get it. You think I should choose with my heart.’ Sarcasm laced her voice.

‘I think you should listen to your heart. Don’t just ignore it because you decided once upon a time that you weren’t going to date.’

‘And if I did listen to my heart? What makes you think it’d lead me to you?’

‘Ah, that’s easy.’ He grinned a cheeky, schoolboy grin. ‘I’m irresistible.’

‘Oh, really.’

‘Just ask my mum.’

‘Oh, I’m sure to get an unbiased opinion there,’ she said sarcastically.

‘Hmm, you’re right,’ he mused thoughtfully, stealing a carrot stick from Claire’s lunchbox. ‘On second thoughts, ask my sisters. They have absolutely no illusions about me and they still think I’m irresistible.’

Campbell grinned again and stole a cherry tomato this time.

‘Hey,’ she protested feebly, growing weaker at the intimacy of him helping himself to her lunch.

‘I’m starving,’ he cajoled, and closed his eyes and sighed rapturously as he bit into the ripe, red flesh. ‘Hmm. This tomato is delicious. So flavoursome.’

‘My father grows them,’ she said, distracted by his moan of enjoyment and the slow trickle of juice leaving the corner of his mouth.

Campbell opened his eyes and caught Claire staring. She was watching his chin where he could feel some juice trekking slowly downwards. Her stare was so intense and hungry he couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d reached over and unzipped his fly. In fact, she might as well have, from the way his body was reacting.

‘Claire, if you’re trying to convince me that you don’t want me, staring at me like that isn’t the way to go about it.’

His words registered on a superficial level only. They didn’t penetrate her intense concentration. She knew she shouldn’t be looking but the juice drew her gaze like a moth to flame.

‘Claire,’ he whispered hoarsely.

It was a ragged, desperate sound that succeeded where his words hadn’t. She gasped slightly, dragging her eyes away, shocked at her behaviour. It was practically X-rated. Her hand trembled as she passed him a paper napkin and tried to deny how bereft she felt that he was the one wiping the errant juice away and not her.

Oh, God, get a grip. What was the matter with her? Why did this man get to her so much?

‘Is it because of him?’

‘Him who?’ she asked, wary again.

‘The man you dated years ago who broke your heart. Or so the story goes.’

‘Been snooping, Campbell?’

‘No, not at all. It’s amazing the stuff people will tell you.’

‘Mind your own business,’ she snapped, rising to wash her dishes at the sink.

‘Oh, come on, Claire,’ he persisted. ‘If I’m paying the price for his sins, surely I deserve to know why.’

‘Campbell!’ She let her exasperation show.

‘OK. I’ll leave you be if you tell me.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I promise. Cross my heart.’

She turned to assess the honesty of his statement. He looked sincere and … it was way too good a deal to pass up. His relentless pursuit was annoying. Really, it was. And pointless. And as difficult as she found even breathing when he was near, she couldn’t be with him. They had no future.

‘All right.’ Her shoulders sagged and she came back and sat at the table. ‘We were young. No, correction, I was young. A third-year student nurse. Shane was a resident. We were in love, or at least … I was in love with him. He said he wanted to marry me and then some … stuff happened to do with my family and he … he dumped me.’

Campbell sat in silence as she laid out the bones of something that had obviously been such a big part of her life. Her complete lack of emotion as she gave just the facts spoke volumes about her hurt.

‘How old were you?’

‘Twenty.’

Campbell covered her hands with his. ‘What stuff?’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ she said quietly, and removed her hands. She wasn’t going to tell a virtual stranger things that even now were too painful to think about.

‘Shane was a fool.’ Campbell’s voice held an edge of contempt.

She met his gaze and read the compassion in his emerald depths. Easy to say when he didn’t know the half of it.

‘No. It hurt for a long time but I think I’d have done the same thing if our situations had been reversed.’

It had been a traumatic chapter in her life. Her mother being diagnosed with Huntington’s disease had been a gut-wrenching time. Not to mention the real possibility that the disease could have been inherited by herself. The last thing she had needed had been her finance deserting her in her hour of need. But he had.

It’d taken the better part of a year to get over Shane’s betrayal. But with the passing of time, Claire had been able to see his side. It had been a tough call for someone in their prime, like Shane, to confront the possibility of his fiancée falling prey to a debilitating genetic illness. The hurt had dissipated but the determination not to make the same mistake with someone else lingered.

‘I don’t care what it was. If he’d really loved you, he’d have stayed.’

Claire shook her head sadly. Some things were too big, too awful to deal with. She knew that too well. ‘You, Dr Deane,’ she said, injecting a light teasing quality into her voice, ‘are a romantic.’

‘Guilty as charged,’ he grinned. ‘So, how about tonight?’

‘Campbell! You promised.’

‘Sorry, I lied. I had my fingers crossed behind my back.’

‘You tricked me.’ She glowered and marched back to the sink.

‘You can’t give up on men because of one stupid guy. I won’t let you. It’s not fair to compare me to him. Give me a chance, I’ll prove to you that we’re not all the same.’

‘Campbell,’ she sighed, turning to face him, ‘it’s not just about Shane. There are other reasons …’ Big reasons. ‘He just helped to put everything into perspective.’

‘I’m never going to give up, Claire. You may as well surrender now.’

‘I’ve been pursued by some determined men, Campbell. I’ve never surrendered.’

‘Honey, trust me. I bring new meaning to determined.’

‘Well, bring it on, honey. But be prepared to lose.’

The instant her challenge was out Claire wished she could retract it. Damn him. Damn him for goading her into throwing down the gauntlet.

Campbell grinned. He felt an energy zinging through his body and revelled in how good and alive it made him feel. She made him feel. His pager beeped and he checked the message. ‘Labour Ward. One of my ladies is in. I asked them to page me when she was ready to deliver.’

He walked slowly towards her as he talked, stopping a hand’s length away. His gaze captured hers for a long moment.

‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he said quietly, and walked away.

* * *

As it turned out, Claire reluctantly made her way to his office a few hours later with a document that required his signature urgently so she could send it off with the last courier run. Martin had been on the phone to her, harassing her about how important it was to have the document on the Minister’s desk by close of business.

Internal mail would have been way too slow and the document too urgent and sensitive to trust to this not always reliable service.

Although Claire had resigned herself to doing the job personally, she approached Campbell’s office with a great deal of trepidation, the subtle challenge in his last words resonating in her head.

His door was closed and her hand shook as she knocked softly. Claire found herself wishing he’d left for the day, despite Martin’s dire warnings, but his command to enter dashed the fantasy.

‘Oh … sorry,’ said Claire, taking in the two people sitting on the other side of Campbell’s desk. ‘I didn’t realise you had clients …’

‘Claire.’ Campbell half stood, pleasure and surprise registering on his face. ‘Come in.’

‘No. It’s OK. I’ll come back.’

‘No. Don’t go. Stay. Actually, you’ve probably got some advice for Kay and Col.’ He pulled up a chair next to the couple and she reluctantly sat down as he introduced her. ‘Kay’s pregnant with her second baby. They have a little boy who’s three and has cystic fibrosis.’

Claire was pleased now for the seat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He wanted her to give advice on a genetic illness? He didn’t know it, but he couldn’t have picked a better person!

Claire’s heart went out to the young couple. What terrible things they must have faced over the last three years, and now to have to confront the possibility of their new baby inheriting CF as well.

Every cell in her body rebelled at being part of this conversation. She wanted to get up and run. It was just way too close to home. She felt her heart beating painfully in her chest and was surprised they couldn’t hear it in the room.

‘Now … where were we?’ He turned back to his clients. ‘Oh, yes, the options. Well, you’re only eight weeks so we can still investigate the baby’s CF status with a special test called chorionic villi sampling. I can make an appointment for you right now,’ he said, picking up the phone.

‘Actually, no, Campbell, that won’t be necessary,’ said Col. ‘We’ve talked about it and we’ve decided not to do that.’

‘Ah … OK. Can I ask why?’

‘We’ve had all the genetic counselling. We know we have a one in four chance of this baby inheriting CF, and we’re OK with that. Obviously we don’t wish it for our baby but if it happens, we’ll deal with it.’

‘Well, sure. It’s your choice and you’re obviously well informed, but a test at this early stage gives you options.’

‘If we tested now and the baby was positive, we wouldn’t be doing anything about it, so what’s the point? We’ll wait for the results of the heel prick after the baby’s born, and in the meantime we’ll be doing a lot of wishing and hoping and praying,’ said Kay.

Claire admired her quiet resolve. It obviously wasn’t easy for them. They were holding on tight to each other’s hands as if one of them might fall if they let go.

Claire felt a pang and realised she envied their closeness. She gave herself a mental shake. This was crazy! When had this happened? Why would she feel jealous of this couple’s relationship? It didn’t make sense. But, then, a lot of things had changed since Campbell had entered her life—damn him!

Claire glanced across the desk at the man responsible for awakening feelings and emotions she doubted she’d ever felt before. She wanted to be angry with him but his obvious concern for this couple’s plight softened her anger—double damn him!

While Claire understood totally where Kay and Col were coming from and empathised with their plight, she could tell Campbell didn’t agree. He was being very professional. Not pushing. Trying only to keep them as informed as possible. But Claire could read him like a book.

She knew how hard it was for some health professionals, particularly doctors, to take a step back sometimes. If there was a problem, they wanted to fix it or at least investigate it to the hilt in an attempt to fix it. They were healers. Doctors didn’t like to sit back and not have the answers.

And then came the question she most dreaded.

‘What do you think, Claire?’ he asked earnestly, his green eyes begging her to support him.

She swallowed, her throat dry, trying to collect her thoughts on a subject she’d thought about every day for the last ten years.

‘I think …’ she started slowly, clearing her throat, ‘I think … Kay and Col know better than anyone what’s at stake, and they’ve obviously thought about it—a lot. You’ve done your bit, informing them of their choices, but ultimately the decision is theirs.’

‘Campbell, we appreciate what you’re trying to say. Really we do, but we’ve made up our mind.’

‘All right, then.’ Campbell smiled and stood and shook their hands. Claire stood also. ‘It was great talking to you both and I’ll see you again in four weeks. But, please, if you have any questions in the meantime, don’t hesitate to contact me, OK?’

Claire watched Campbell as he showed his clients out, courteous and professional to the end. But Claire saw dissatisfaction in every line of his body. She knew what he was thinking, she had witnessed it often enough. He felt he had failed.

‘Damn it,’ he swore softly as he paced over to his window.

‘You don’t approve,’ Claire said, not wanting to hear his answer. Anything he said next she couldn’t fail to take personally. It was too close to home.

‘They don’t need my approval Claire, I know that. It’s just …’ He raked his fingers through his glorious hair and turned to face her. ‘I think they’re going to go ahead and have a baby in the blind hope that it’s not inflicted with an awful disease which, in reality, it has a very high chance of inheriting.’

‘I don’t think they’re in denial over the risks, Campbell. I just think they’re prepared to roll the dice and go with their lot.’

‘What about the child? It’s the one that’s going to have to live with it.’

Despite understanding his sentiments, Claire could more than see the flip side. The fact that he couldn’t irritated her.

‘You think people with genetic illnesses can’t live normal, fulfilled lives?’

‘It’s a debilitating lung disease,’ he said, exasperation tinging his voice. ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you that. That child will spend the majority of its life either in hospital, taking meds or having physio and then dying too young.’

‘If he or she has it.’

‘If they take the test, they’ll know. It’ll buy them peace of mind.’

Having refused testing herself, Claire understood their reasons. How could knowing you or your child had a genetic disorder give you peace of mind?

‘Ignorance can be bliss, Campbell,’ said Claire, her voice stilted.

‘I’m just saying … if it were me, I’d want to know. If it were me, I would think twice about bringing a child into the world if there was a history of genetic disease.’

And there it was. His statement hit her square in the solar plexus. They were only words but they could sure wound. She almost staggered from their impact.

Claire knew what he meant, felt exactly the same way. Wasn’t that why she had chosen to never have a baby herself? Why she’d even denied herself a relationship, so the temptation to conceive would never be an issue?

But, still, his statement stung. Any flutterings of attraction she may have felt for Campbell she needed to well and truly quash. If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t want her. She couldn’t bear to be rejected twice.

‘But it’s not you—is it?’ Claire knew it wasn’t a decision anyone else could make for you.

‘No.’ His admission was tinged with regret. He was silent for a moment. ‘Anyway,’ he said, shaking his head and pushing away from the window, ‘You needed something?’

Claire admired his ability to change focus so quickly. She was having trouble processing their conversation. If she took nothing else away when she left the room, at least she knew where she really stood with him, even if he was completely oblivious to the fact.

‘Claire?’ he prompted, and she looked at him blankly. ‘Wait? Maybe you didn’t need anything? Maybe you’ve come to wave the white flag and go out to dinner with me?’

He laughed and she smiled despite the fog clogging her brain. He recovered easily after such a heavy conversation. He was too quick on his feet.

‘Sorry, just a signature,’ she said, handing him the document.

‘Alas,’ he mocked as he signed it and gave it back. ‘I haven’t forgotten your little challenge, Claire. In fact, I look forward to it.’

‘You’re wasting your time,’ she stated, more calmly than she felt, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

She made her way back to the birth centre in a haze of mixed emotions. Something was happening to her which she couldn’t define. It was new and unwelcome and scary and all Campbell Deane’s fault!

Before he’d come into her life she’d had clearly defined goals. Establish a birth centre. Make it strong and successful. Offer a real alternative to the women of Brisbane. Suddenly it didn’t feel enough. She wanted more.

At least she now knew his views on genetic illness. He’d unwittingly given her the perfect weapon. All she had to do was tell him the truth and watch his interest die. See him run for the hills. Just like Shane.

But she knew she wouldn’t. She’d made such a habit of concealing it she doubted she’d even know how to start. She didn’t want people to treat her differently. She might have to live with it hanging over her head but she refused to let this disease define her.

It was her deep, dark, family secret. Her business and hers alone. And now, thankfully, a constant reminder to give Campbell Deane a wide berth.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN Claire arrived at work the next morning a spectacular flower arrangement was waiting for her. ‘Let the games begin,’ she muttered to herself.

They were absolutely gorgeous. Claire knew they would have cost Campbell a fortune, with exotics like sprigs of wattle, grevillia, bird of paradise and dried rosellas. She fingered the card. Her impulse was to throw it in the bin but curiosity overwhelmed her. That they were from him was a foregone conclusion, but what words had he used to woo her? Romantic? Poetic? Flowery?

She glanced at the bold, black print. A gasp escaped involuntarily. Claire screwed it up and tossed it in her bin as if scalded.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN.

Was the man capable of reading her mind now? She didn’t like it that he’d chosen the same words she’d only just thought. She didn’t want to be on his wavelength.

Claire reeled in her frantic thoughts. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t going to happen. And if he thought that flowers would do it then he was sorely mistaken. Ignoring the part of her that loved, adored and appreciated things as beautiful as these flowers, she picked them up and marched them down to Obstetric Outpatients.

She dumped them in Andrea’s arms, ignoring her surprise and curiosity. ‘This place could do with some nice flowers to make it a little less hospital-like. Shove these in a few vases, will you?’

Andrea was well used to Claire’s private life being a taboo subject so she didn’t ask. They had become firm friends over the years despite Claire’s reticence over indulging too much personal information. Andrea knew that Shane had hurt her very badly, although Claire had never told her the reason for their break-up.

Before she could change her mind and snatch them back, Claire turned abruptly and left a stunned-looking Andrea in her wake. Mission accomplished, she sat down at her desk to review her day. Her concentration, however, was shot by the lingering scent of wattle.

‘Who were the flowers from?’ asked Pauline, entering the room and sitting at her desk. She was the centre’s receptionist.

‘Someone who hasn’t got the message yet,’ said Claire, her voice shorter and sharper than Pauline deserved.

‘What did you do with them?’

‘I gave them to Andrea down in Outpatients. It’s too clinical-looking down there.’

‘Claire,’ Pauline said, with all the exasperated patience of someone who was well used to Claire’s rejection of men. ‘Next time, I’ll have them. We could do with some around here, too.’ Pauline laughed at Claire’s unimpressed look. ‘What poor man are you trying to annihilate with your rejection this time?’

‘I wouldn’t worry about this one. He’s got pretty thick skin.’

‘Pretty big wallet, too, judging by that bouquet.’

She was right. Claire was beginning to regret her rash action. She had been too hell-bent on getting them as far away from her as possible to think very rationally. All she knew was that she’d desperately wanted to bury her head in them and inhale their bushy fragrance. And if she’d succumbed to that temptation, she doubted she’d have been able to give them away.

And then they’d be sitting here on her desk, a constant reminder of him. He may as well be sitting on her desk because she knew that’s all she’d be able to see when she looked at them. His smiling face, his red-blonde hair flopping in his eyes. Eyes that sparkled green and were so easy to read. His impressive physique …

She groaned and shook her head. No. She had done the right thing. Heaven knew, she was thinking about him enough now and the damn flowers were nowhere in sight. Despite her good intentions, too much of her time of late had been taken up by thoughts of Campbell. Her mind just kept wandering there of its own accord!

She made a determined effort to put him from her head and mentally braced herself for the day. She crossed her fingers and hoped that their paths wouldn’t cross.

A very expensive bunch of flowers was an impressive opening salvo in this cat-and-mouse game they were playing. It was certainly going to be followed up. Claire braced herself for that also.

At ten o’clock Claire wandered into the radiology department and found Lex Craven sitting there, reading a magazine.

‘How are you, Lex? Ready to see your baby?’ Claire sat down beside her client.

‘I’m so excited. I can’t wait. I hope they’re not running too late, I’m sure my bladder’s going to burst any moment.’

Claire laughed. A full bladder was required for the scan. It provided a clearer picture of the uterus and the baby within it. Patients were told to drink at least a litre of water prior to their appointment. A big ask for many pregnant women.

Luck was on Lex’s side when they were ushered in five minutes later. The radiologist, Darren, gave Lex a gown to change into.

‘How’s that baby of yours coming along, Darren? He must be six months old by now,’ Claire asked. She had looked after Darren and his wife in Labour Ward and had delivered their son.

‘Six months tomorrow. Impressive recall, Claire.’

Claire laughed. She did seem to have a photographic memory regarding the babies she had delivered. Claire was sure she could remember every baby she’d helped into the world. The moment of birth was so magical that each baby seemed to be indelibly imprinted into her memory bank. And if, occasionally, a birth did slip her mind, she only needed to refer to her scrapbook at home that had a picture and some basic information on all her deliveries. It was quite thick now, boasting over four hundred photos.

Lex rejoined them and climbed up onto the narrow bed. Darren pressed some buttons on the machine while Claire helped prepare Lex, exposing what was necessary and keeping everything else covered. Darren flicked a switch and killed the overhead lights.

‘OK. Let’s start. Goo first,’ he said, squeezing a generous daub of the warmed gel onto Lex’s tummy. A bright glow emitted from the screen and three pairs of eyes watched as the white static took form and shape as Darren applied the transducer and a twenty-week-old foetus filled the screen.

Claire took Lex’s hand as she glimpsed tears shimmering in her client’s eyes. Lex squeezed it gratefully and Claire didn’t bother to let go.

‘OK, I’m just going to check the placenta first,’ he informed Lex, running the transducer around until he found what he was looking for. ‘Good position,’ he murmured. ‘Now, we start from the head and work down. I’ll be taking various measurements as I go.’

Darren explained what he was looking at as he went methodically from head to toe. He looked at the brain and took some measurements, satisfying himself that it was the right size. He checked other brain structures and calculated the diameter of the baby’s skull.

Next he looked at the face, paying particular attention to the mouth and lips, checking for any abnormality. It was a perfect face. Two eyes, two ears, one nose. He moved down further and found two lungs and then visualised the tiny, beating heart. Satisfied there were four chambers and all associated structures were present, he pressed a button and the room filled with the noise of the baby’s strong, regular heartbeat.

‘There’s the baby’s stomach,’ Darren informed them, as he moved lower.

‘Yeah right. I’ll have to take your word for that,’ said Lex with a laugh.

Claire knew exactly how she felt. Ultrasound was a specialised field and what was obviously a stomach to Darren looked like a blob of black and white fuzzy nothing to most other people. He found the liver and kidneys as well. The spinal column was thoroughly checked to make sure it was complete.

‘All intact,’ Darren murmured, as much to himself as to Claire and Lex.

The baby was active during the procedure, allowing them a good view of everything. Ten fingers and toes were all accounted for.

‘Do you want to know the sex?’ Darren asked.

‘Can you tell?’

‘Uh-huh.’

Lex looked at Claire questioningly. Claire shrugged noncommittally.

‘I didn’t want to. We discussed it and we wanted it to be a surprise. But … oh, gosh, I can’t believe how tempted I am.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ said Darren. ‘We were tempted, too.’

‘No. Don’t tell me. Brian will kill me if I found out.’

Darren took some measurements of the baby’s thighbone next. He entered the data into his machine. With all the other measurements he’d imput, it would now calculate the growth of the baby, its weight and its precise gestation.

Claire felt tears prick her eyes at the wonder of this developing life, still only half-developed in medical terms but already a fully formed little person being nurtured and protected in the safety of the womb. She felt an ache deep inside, an emptiness that she had suppressed for years, refusing suddenly to be quelled. Watching Lex’s baby on the screen, Claire felt a yearning begin and then intensify.

What was the matter with her? Babies had been part of her working life for over a decade. When had they started to get to her like this? At twenty, after her mother’s diagnosis, Claire knew she would never allow herself to bring a baby of her own into this world. It had been difficult to come to terms with, but she’d felt she hadn’t really had a choice.

Maybe she hadn’t taken the appropriate time to grieve? For someone who loved babies as desperately as Claire did, never achieving motherhood was a real loss. Losses needed to be mourned. She should have cried, but she hadn’t. She should have railed against the fates, but she hadn’t done that either. She’d felt immensely sad but had moved on with her life. Forged a career.

Was she doing it now? Grieving? Was that what was happening to her? And why now? What had happened to trigger it? And then Campbell poked his head in the door and something deep inside her knew it was him. He was responsible for this discontent. She shut her mind to it. She didn’t want to go there.

‘Here you all are,’ he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him, along with the bright outside lights that intruded into the darkened room.

‘Campbell,’ said Lex, delight in her voice. ‘Come and look at my beautiful baby.’

Campbell did as he’d been bidden and admired the ultrasound images, oblivious to Claire’s turmoil.

‘Beautiful. Absolutely, no doubt.’

Claire raised her head to discover him staring at her. His look immobilised her. Even breathing was difficult when he looked at her with such hunger. Claire blinked rapidly to dispel the moisture that had dewed her eyes. It was too late. He’d seen it. She could see his eyes narrow with concern. Even in the gloom he was very easy to read.

‘Looks like you’re spot on, Lex,’ Darren continued. He was so focused, Claire doubted he’d even registered Campbell’s presence. Pity she couldn’t say the same for herself. ‘Twenty weeks and one day, according to the calculations.’

With the scan over, Darren flicked the lights on and Claire helped Lex down from the narrow bed. She rushed off gratefully to relieve her full bladder. Darren left the room to retrieve the video recording for Lex. Campbell, his back to the wall, watched Claire.

‘Clinic smells nice today,’ he commented casually. ‘Wattle, I believe.’