Loe raamatut: «Her Baby Out of the Blue»

CHAPTER TWO

‘EXCUSE me?’

Jane whisked the curtain shut behind her. Mandy was watching but hopefully she had been too far away to hear that extraordinary introduction. She turned back to what now felt like a small space. There was a narrow bed and a single chair beside it. A baby’s car seat with a handle was on the floor beside the chair and it had a bag inside it with what looked like a nappy poking through the zip. The rest of the space was taken up by a very large man holding a very small baby. Jane glared at the man.

‘What did you just say?’

‘This is Sophie,’ the stranger repeated patiently. At least he spoke more quietly this time. Maybe Jane’s horrified whisper had made him realise his mistake.

‘Sophie McKenzie,’ he continued. ‘I’m Dylan McKenzie. My older brother was Josh and he was married to—’

‘Izzy,’ Jane finished for him, her tone hollow.

A tiny silence fell in which the name seemed to hang in the air despite the busy sounds from outside the curtain. A patient groaning in the next cubicle. A child shrieking a little further away. The rattle of an IV trolley going past and the general paging system requesting a doctor in Resus 1 immediately.

Izzy. Jane’s best friend. At times wild, always passionate, the life of any party. The person she’d loved enough to go way further than an extra mile for. Her fellow student, flatmate…the sister she’d never had.

Dylan was watching her. He had dark blue eyes, Jane thought irrelevantly. And black hair and fair skin. Irish colouring but his accent was Scottish. Josh had been Scottish, too. Working abroad as a registrar when he’d met Izzy and they’d fallen madly in love.

‘The love of my life,’ Izzy had said more than once. ‘My soulmate. This is death-till-we-part stuff, Janey.’

The expression in those dark blue eyes looked horribly like…sympathy.

‘Where is she?’ Jane’s voice came out sounding strange. A kind of soft croak. She knew, dammit. This was why the emails had stopped and the phone messages hadn’t been returned. She still had to ask. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I’m so sorry.’ The accent became stronger as his voice dropped. ‘But Izzy died. A month ago now.’

Jane gasped. A moment ago all those sounds around them had been quite intelligible. A familiar cacophony Jane was so used to she could just pick what she needed to hear from it. Now those sounds became a buzz that pressed in on her ears like waves. Rushing in and then receding. She had no idea she was swaying on her feet until she felt her arm gripped firmly.

‘Sit down,’ came the command.

Jane sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair beside the bed.

‘Put your head down,’ the voice continued. ‘Should I call someone for you?’

‘N-no!’ The buzzing receded enough for Jane’s mind to grasp something solid. The knowledge that this was very personal.

Private business.

She put a hand over her eyes. Took a breath and then another. Then she dropped the hand and looked up.

‘I’m sorry,’ Dylan said again.

He meant it. If he hadn’t had a baby in his arms, Jane was sure he would have hugged her. Not that she would have welcomed a hug from a complete stranger, of course. She stared at him for a moment longer. Why did she have the ridiculous disappointment that he was holding that baby, then?

‘I think,’ she said slowly, ‘that you’d better tell me everything.’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

Jane gave her head a tiny shake. ‘No, not here.’

He looked over his shoulder, as though he could see through the curtain to the noisy, crowded area it screened. ‘Fair enough. Where?’

‘My office, I suppose.’

‘Now?’

‘Do you have the time?’

A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and for a moment his whole face lightened. ‘I’ve travelled all the way from Edinburgh for this, hen. I’ve all the time in the world.’ He raised a black eyebrow. ‘More to the point, have you the time?’

‘I’ll find it.’Jane stood up carefully, trying to push back the devastating news she had just received. Not Izzy. Oh, God! She couldn’t deal with it just yet. Thank goodness her training and her job enabled the kind of self-control she needed rather badly right now. ‘Come with me.’

Mandy was still watching from behind the triage desk. She stared at Jane.

‘Are you all right, Dr Walters?’

‘Of course.’

‘Is there anything…?’

Mandy was clearly disconcerted. Did she look that awful? Jane pulled off the disposable hat and ran her hand over her head to check that her hair was still mostly confined in the neat braid. The nurse’s gaze slid past her to Dylan, who had the baby on one arm and the car seat and bag in his other hand. ‘Your backpack…?’

‘Could I leave it with you just for now?’

Mandy was getting one of those killer smiles. Jane could tell by the way the nurse breathed out in what looked like a soft sigh. ‘Sure. It’s out of the way in the ambulance bay locker.’

‘There is something you could do, Mandy.’ Jane was pleased to hear her voice sounding almost normal. ‘Page my registrar and tell him to start the ward round without me. I’ll catch up with the post-ops later. For anything urgent, I can be paged.’

It was quite a walk to Dr Walters’s office.

A silent walk apart from the occasional greeting directed at the woman half a step ahead of Dylan.

‘Dr Walters.’

‘Jane! How are you?’

She acknowledged the greetings but her step never wavered. Her back was straight, her gaze fixed on a point well ahead of them and her stride determined enough for Dylan’s long legs to move at a comfortable pace.

He stole more than one sideways glance. This Jane Walters was considerably more pale than she had been when he had first set eyes on her, but was that the only indication she might be upset? Were her features always this set?

Ice Queen sprang to mind.

Except it didn’t quite fit.

Dylan had met his sister-in-law some time ago now. Last Christmas, when the couple had arrived back in Scotland. Izzy had been a delight. So vibrant. So full of life and laughter, and she had talked about Jane all the time. Her very best friend that she missed terribly. The person who was going to be so excited when—if the miracle really happened.

The miracle had happened.

But right now Dylan found he couldn’t imagine Jane Walters getting excited about anything. Pleased, perhaps. Satisfied, certainly. The notion that excitement could dent the aura of control—power, even—that emanated from this slim figure he was following was quite bizarre.

She was important here, that was obvious. She might be oblivious to the quick glances and smiles that advertised respect but Dylan wasn’t. He knew the kind of hierarchy that existed in hospitals only too well and he knew he was walking with royalty.

And if he hadn’t picked it up on the journey, he couldn’t have missed the information from the office he was ushered into. By the standards of most hospitals, it was palatial. With a view to the beautiful city park that bordered the hospital grounds. A glimpse of the river even.

There was a wall completely covered with framed diplomas and postgraduate degrees and floor-to-ceiling shelving with meticulously filed stacks of medical journals and a wealth of reference books. The blotter on the surface of the large desk was unsullied by any doodling and the chair was tidily pushed in. Jane didn’t go to that side of her desk, however. She stopped beside one of the two comfortable armchairs that flanked a coffee table.

‘Have a seat,’ she directed. ‘Um…does the baby need anything?’

‘Her name’s Sophie.’ Dylan’s smile felt forced. God, he was tired. ‘And no, she’s fine for the moment. I fed and changed her while we were waiting in Emergency.’

‘Right.’ Jane sat on the edge of the other chair, which made her look uncomfortable. Her hands were curled into loose fists and the skin around her nose and mouth was pale enough to be of concern.

She looked terrible, Dylan decided. He was studying her face as she raised her gaze and then he couldn’t look away. She had an unusual eye colour. Green? Brown? He couldn’t tell because the pupils were large. She looked…grief-stricken.

‘What happened?’ A tiny catch in her voice added to his impression. ‘Was it a complication of childbirth?’

‘No. That all went perfectly. They were taking Sophie home from the hospital a few days after the birth and there was an accident on the M1. Izzy was killed instantly. Josh…broke his neck. He survived in the spinal unit for three weeks but died of respiratory complications.’ Dylan had to pause for a moment. ‘Actually,’ he added softly, ‘I think he died of a broken heart.’

‘And the…? And Sophie? She was in the car?’

‘She was in her new state-of-the-art car seat.’ Dylan tilted his head to where he’d left the items he had carried with him on the floor beside his chair. ‘She’s fine.’ He looked down at the tiny face he could see in the folds of soft blanket. His arms tightened a little and something huge squeezed his heart. ‘Better than fine,’ he added. ‘She’s perfect.’

Jane wasn’t looking at Sophie. She was staring at her hands, now tightly clasped in her lap.

‘I knew something was wrong. Izzy had been hinting at a surprise and, at first, I thought they were planning a visit back to Christchurch. I’ve been half expecting to open my door and find them there, laughing at me. It’s never been this long without an email or phone call. I’ve rung so many times.’

‘I got the message you left last week.’

‘Why didn’t you contact me, then? Why didn’t someone call me as soon as it had happened?’ There was anger in her voice now. ‘Josh knew how close Izzy and I were. He must have known I’d want to be there for…for her funeral. I was the only real family Izzy had.’

‘Izzy was a McKenzie,’ Dylan said steadily. ‘My sister-in-law. My brother’s wife. My father’s daughter-in-law. The only daughter he ever had. We were her family. And we all loved her.’

Eyebrows a shade or two darker than the rich golden brown of Jane’s hair were lowered into a scowl. She didn’t like that.

‘Josh was too ill that first week,’ Dylan continued. ‘On a ventilator in the intensive care unit. My father was distraught. I had to make all the arrangements. All the decisions.’

‘You had no right to exclude me.’

‘I’m sorry.’And he was. He hadn’t bargained on this. The grief he could feel. Jane had been just a name. An entity a world away from the tragedy he’d been dealing with. He hated that he was causing her so much pain. ‘There was someone else who had to take priority in all the decisions I made.’ He glanced down again and his voice softened. ‘This wee lassie.’

Dylan looked up and waited until Jane met his gaze. ‘Your daughter,’ he added.

‘No!’ Jane shot up as though her chair had scorched her. ‘You’ve made a mistake. There’s no way this child is mine.’

Dylan had to look up a lot further this time but he remained sitting. He had to try and stay calm. This was a shock for her, he reminded himself. She needed time. She needed to see Sophie. Really look at her. Touch her. And then she would feel the way he did. That nothing mattered except for what was going to be best for this precious baby.

Was she distracting herself from grief for her friend by launching herself into denial? She was certainly focused. Controlled. Attributes she needed, no doubt, in order to perform her job. He needed to be controlled himself. Stick to the facts if he could and not let emotion take over.

‘My understanding is that you donated the eggs that Josh and Izzy used for their IVF treatments.’

Jane’s breath came out in an exasperated huff. ‘Yes…but that was more than two years ago. The treatments failed. Both of them. Izzy was too upset to think about doing it again. That’s why they decided to go back to Scotland. To start a new life.’ Jane had turned and was pacing towards the bookshelves. She whirled back to face Dylan. ‘I was there. We were all upset that it hadn’t worked but I didn’t offer to provide any more eggs and Izzy didn’t ask.’

‘There was a final embryo. When they were tying up loose ends before they left the country, they contacted the fertility clinic and were told about it and asked to make a decision about whether to keep it or not. I don’t know why it had been kept and not used in the earlier attempts. Josh said something about its viability being in question.’

‘There were only four viable embryos. Two got implanted with each attempt. Both attempts failed. That was the end of it.’

Dylan nodded. He could understand why Jane was so adamant. ‘That’s what they thought as well but apparently there was the extra one. The odds of the implantation being successful were minimal but they decided to use it so they wouldn’t be left wondering.’

‘No.’ Jane shook her head decisively. ‘Izzy would have told me.’

‘She didn’t think it would work. She didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes, especially her own. She thought if she and Josh were the only people to know, it would be easier to deal with another failure. She had the implantation procedure and that was it as far as they were concerned. They’d tried their best and it was time to put it all behind them and start a new life.’

A flash of pain appeared to mix with the anger and sheer disbelief on Jane’s face. Was she feeling shut out? Distressed that her best friend could have kept such a secret from her?

‘She would have told me when she knew she was pregnant.’

‘She couldn’t believe it to start with. Didn’t she lose a baby the first time? At about eight or nine weeks?’

Jane gave a single nod.

‘They waited until they thought it was safe and then they waited because they wanted to surprise you.’

‘How do you know so much about this?’

Yes. There was jealousy there. And pain. A lot of pain. Not really an ice queen, then, despite her attempts to appear perfectly in control.

‘Josh was my brother,’ Dylan said gently. ‘He was a few years older than me but we were very close. We lost Mum when we were quite young and there was just the three of us. Josh was like another parent as well as my best mate.’

He drew in a ragged breath. No more tears, he told himself. Not here. Not in front of her. Please.

‘He came out of Intensive Care and I had two weeks sitting beside his bed in the spinal unit. Sleeping beside it. Dad and I took turns but it was too hard on my father so I stayed virtually the whole time.’

He had to sniff. To clear his throat. ‘There was nothing to do apart from hold his hand and talk. To let him meet his daughter. To let him grieve for Izzy—the love of his life. And to grieve for the future he was never going to have.’

The pain in his voice was palpable.

Jane had never had a sibling but she’d had her chosen sister, Izzy. How would it have been to have been sitting with her for weeks if her beloved Josh was gone? With them both knowing that even if she survived she would be unable to look after the baby she had longed for so desperately?

It was unimaginable. Jane’s heart went out to this man sitting here with the baby. Swallowing the painful lump in her throat, Jane moved slowly back to the empty chair and sat down.

‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes as she sighed. Words could be so inadequate at times. ‘It must have been terrible for you. Josh was…he was a lovely guy.’

‘You knew him?’ The tone of surprise was squashed. ‘Of course you did, with you and Izzy being so close.’

‘We lived together. Josh moved in with us within a few days of meeting Izzy.’ Jane found a smile. ‘It really was a case of love at first sight.’

‘I would have come for the wedding if I’d been invited.’

He sounded…jealous? Jane had shared a special moment of his brother’s life that he’d been excluded from. She couldn’t feel sorry for him, surely, after what she’d been excluded from.

Maybe she could.

‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. A celebrant, a beach and a couple of surfers for witnesses. Izzy and Josh said it was the commitment to each other that mattered, not putting on a show for anyone else.’ Another smile tugged at her mouth even as something sad and raw twisted inside her. ‘We all wore jeans and we went paddling afterwards.’

‘In jeans? On a beach?’ Dylan shifted the baby in his arms and fished in the pocket of his well-worn leather jacket. A slightly crumpled photograph was produced. ‘Was that when this picture was taken?’

‘Yes.’ Jane had to press her lips together. She didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger. She needed to wind this interview up and have a little time to herself, hopefully, before her pager summoned her. ‘That…that was my official bridesmaid portrait.’

Dylan shook his head. ‘Why did it have to be so rushed? I would have come.’

‘It was kind of a celebration, I guess.’

‘Of what?’

Jane sighed. ‘Maybe resolution would be a better word. It had been a rather intense few weeks. Josh had proposed but Izzy refused to marry him and it was tearing her to pieces. Tearing us all to pieces.’

Dylan’s eyebrows rose. ‘I thought it was love at first sight? Why did she refuse?’

At least there was something Jane knew more about than Izzy’s brother-in-law.

‘She knew she couldn’t have babies and there was nothing Josh could say that would convince her it didn’t matter. Izzy could get very passionate about things. She had got it into her head that the only way she could show Josh how much she loved him was to have his baby.’

‘And why couldn’t she?’

‘Early menopause. Hit her at twenty-nine. Way before she met Josh. There was no warning, either, so she couldn’t try and harvest her own eggs and store them.’

‘So you stepped in and offered yours?’

‘Not exactly.’ He made it sound as if it had been a casual thing. An easy solution. ‘As I said, it was…intense.’ Fraught, more like. Izzy had made it seem that futures and friendships were on the line. ‘Izzy knew I was never going to have my own children. I—’

‘Why?’ The interruption was puzzled. ‘How did you know that for sure?’

‘Because I made a choice to have a career that doesn’t leave time to raise children, that’s why.’ Jane’s tone hardened. ‘Because my parents had full-on careers and I know what it’s like to be raised by parents who don’t have the time.’ Not that her upbringing was any of his business. ‘Yes, I got persuaded to help Izzy but, if I’m honest, I had doubts about it. There was an element of relief when it didn’t work.’

‘But it did work.’

As if to support the quiet statement, the baby in his arms stirred and squeaked.

I’m here, the noise said. I’m real.

‘I have her birth certificate if you’d like to see it.’

A cold prickle ran down Jane’s spine. ‘And that’s relevant because…?’

‘Because it has your name on it. As her mother.’

‘I’m not her mother!’

‘Biologically, you are. It was Josh who thought it was the best plan. We got legal advice and medical records as supportive evidence. You signed a consent to have your identity available.’

‘Only in case of a family medical history being needed. Or…a bone-marrow transplant or something.’ Jane stood up again. She needed to move. ‘This is ridiculous. I did not choose to have a child.’

Sophie squeaked more loudly. A grizzle that threatened to turn into a cry. Did she sense the rejection?

‘There’s lots of mothers out there who didn’t exactly choose to have a child.’The outrageous calm of Dylan’s voice showed he had absolutely no understanding of the implications of this situation. ‘They still bond with them when they arrive. They bring them up and they make good mothers.’

‘I have no intention of bonding with this baby.’ Oh, Lord, that sounded callous but it was the truth. ‘And I’m not about to have motherhood forced on me.’

Jane was pacing again. Towards her desk. Her nice tidy desk—as organised and precise as her life. There was the gold clock, the box of pens, a pad of sticky notes, another box with her business cards.

‘Here.’ Jane picked up one of the cards and marched back to present it to Dylan. ‘Here are my contact details. Call me tomorrow when I’ve had time to contact my solicitors. We’ll sort something out. A way I can contribute to this child’s welfare.’

‘That’s big of you.’ Dylan took the card and stuffed it into his pocket. He stood up, seemingly oblivious to the steady wail Sophie was now emitting. ‘But wee Sophie needs a bit more than money.’

‘It’s the best I can offer.’

‘I don’t agree.’

‘Look.’ The noise the baby was making was filling Jane’s head and making it impossible to think clearly. She had to escape. Find time to think about this. ‘She’s got you. You’re her uncle and you obviously care about her. I’ll help however I can but—’