Bound by Their Babies
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Caroline Anderson
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19,9K
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10
Prologue
June
‘HI, EM. I’VE just come out of Theatre and found two missed calls, and I tried the house phone and got no reply. Where are you? Are you OK?’
Jake heard a soft laugh, then a little gasp, and his pulse shifted a notch.
‘Em? Talk to me!’
‘I’m in labour, but I can’t do this. I need you, Jake...’ Another little gasp. ‘I’m in Maternity Reception—’
She broke off breathlessly, the contraction obviously peaking, and his heart went into overdrive.
‘I’ll be right there,’ he promised, and sliding his phone back into his pocket, he told a colleague to page the registrar to take over from him and headed for the lift at a run, his heart hammering.
Crazy. There was no reason for him to react like this. He was an obstetrician, for heaven’s sake! He spent his life surrounded by women in labour, but this was different. This was Emily, his dearest, oldest, closest friend, and he’d promised he’d be there for her. Not as an obstetrician but as her birth partner, and that was much harder because it wasn’t his place to be there, it was Pete’s.
But Pete, her husband of eleven years, the father of her baby, couldn’t be here with her today or any other day. The man who’d had everything any man could want—everything he himself wanted—had lost it all for ever in a cruel twist of fate, and now all Emily had was Jake.
How could he possibly take Pete’s place?
The lift was on a go-slow, and he drummed his fingers on the door, wishing he’d taken the stairs. Come on, come on...
The doors finally hissed open, and there she was, leaning against the window opposite and breathing with soft, light huffs.
‘I’m here, Em, I’ve got you,’ he murmured, and laid his hand on the small of her back and rubbed firmly, and she moaned softly and leant into him, rocking from foot to foot as he stared out into the darkness and waited for the contraction to ease.
The first hint of dawn was just appearing on the horizon, a thin sliver of grey pushing back the night. New day, new life...
‘How are you doing?’ he asked, when the huffing stopped and she straightened up.
‘Awful.’ She turned and met his eyes, her own pinched with fear as she took his hands and hung on. ‘It’s not due for two weeks, how can I be in labour? I’m just not ready, Jake.’
Which made two of them. ‘Yes, you are. You know babies, Em. They come when they come, but at least you’re here now and I didn’t have a thirty-mile drive in the middle of the night to get to you.’
‘Oh, don’t! I thought you were being silly making me move in with you this week. I so nearly didn’t come. I didn’t think there was any need yet, and now I just can’t believe it’s happening.’
‘I can, so I’m really glad you finally listened to me—and you’ll be fine,’ he promised rashly. ‘You’re fit and well—’
‘Don’t give me that. I’m an obstetrician too, I know all the things that can go wrong, and fit and well’s got nothing to do with it.’
‘And you also know the odds, which are slim,’ he said calmly, even though his heart was still pounding. ‘You’ll be fine, Emily. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.’
‘You can’t say that.’
‘I can. I have,’ he told her, mentally crossing his fingers, because this baby was her last link with Pete, and absolutely nothing could be allowed to break that link. ‘Come on, let’s get you upstairs and admit you. Can you walk, or do you want a wheelchair?’
‘Walk. It’s easier.’
‘OK.’ He led her to the lift, and somebody was holding the doors. Liv, one of their most trusted midwives, and he felt a surge of relief as he flashed her a smile.
‘Hi, Liv. This is Emily—the friend I told you about? Em, Liv’s a senior midwife and she’s amazing.’
‘And you’re a smooth talker,’ Liv said with a laugh. ‘Hi, Emily, it’s good to meet you. I’ll come up with you, get you settled in. Want me to stay for the delivery?’ she added to Jake, and he nodded.
‘That would be great if you can,’ he said, as Emily turned into his arms, gripped his shoulders and moaned softly. ‘It’s OK, Em. Just breathe, in and out, nice and light,’ he coaxed gently, and felt the soft huff of her breath drift against the open V of his scrubs. ‘That’s it, well done, you’re doing really well.’
‘Two minutes forty,’ Liv murmured, and he nodded. They were coming thick and fast. No wonder she was struggling.
The lift pinged, and the grip on his shoulders eased.
‘Are we there?’
‘Yes. Come on, let’s get you comfortable.’
* * *
They felt like the longest two hours of his life, Em’s contractions blurring into each other in an untidy avalanche punctuated by calm reassurance and steady progress reports from Liv.
He was so glad Liv had stayed with them. He trusted her, and in this situation he felt so out of his depth it was absurd, but Liv was calm and in control and she handled it brilliantly while he tried to stop being a doctor and did what he could to help Em.
He rubbed her back, he held her hand, he walked her round, he held her, rocked her, mopped her brow, and then at last he lifted up the squalling, slippery little body of her son and laid him against the bare skin of her breast, his eyes blinded by tears as he tucked a warm towel around the baby.
‘Well done, Em. Well done. Clever girl.’
‘What is it?’
‘A boy,’ he said, his voice catching. He swallowed hard and tried again. ‘It’s a boy.’
Her head was bent so he couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see her fingers, the tender, sure curve of them over the baby’s head, the loving touch of a mother soothing her baby in those momentous moments after birth.
She pressed her lips to the baby’s head. ‘Hello, little one,’ she murmured, her voice a caress. ‘Welcome to the world.’
He was quiet now, his eyes fixed on his mother’s, tiny fingers curled around hers, and Jake’s throat was so clogged he couldn’t speak, but he squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at him and smiled, her eyes shimmering in the slanting light of the early morning sun.
‘We did it,’ she said softly, her voice incredulous. ‘We actually did it.’
‘No, you did it,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘You’ve been so brave through all of this. Pete would be really proud of you.’
A tear slid down her cheek, and she gave a tiny nod and kissed the baby again.
‘He’s lovely and pink,’ Liv said with a smile, and Jake stepped back and made room for her to do her job. His presence was redundant now, and he just wanted to get out into the fresh air and sort out his feelings, because they were all over the place and some of them had no business being there at all.
‘Apgar score ten at one minute,’ Liv was saying to the other midwife, and he turned to the basin and washed his hands on autopilot, his emotions flayed.
It was fourteen months since Matilda had been born last April at his old hospital on the other side of Suffolk, but it could have been yesterday. It was the only other time he’d been at what felt like the wrong end of a delivery bed, and he’d been shocked at how emotional he’d been when his tiny daughter had been put in his arms, and how much he’d instantly loved her.
He’d only just started here at Yoxburgh Park Hospital then and Jo had refused to move with him, but he’d been there for Matilda’s birth, heard her first cry, been there to hold her, to bond with her, and he spent as much time with her now as he could.
It didn’t feel like enough, but at least he was alive. At least he knew his precious, darling Tilly, and she knew him. Pete would never know his son. The nearest he’d got was a grainy ultrasound image of a tiny foetus taken shortly before he’d died. Now Em was alone, and her little boy would never know his father. That gutted Jake, but he’d always be there for them, whenever he could. He’d promised Pete, and that promise to a dying man was unbreakable.
He went back to Em and stroked her damp, tangled blonde hair gently. ‘I’ll see you later. Give me a call when you’re all tidied up, and I’ll come back.’
Her mouth opened—on a protest?—and then closed again, and she gave him a fleeting smile and nodded. ‘Go and get a coffee or something. I’m not going anywhere fast.’
‘OK. Look after them for me, Liv.’
He gave Em a smile no steadier than her own, shunted the door out of the way and went out into the corridor.
It was deserted, thankfully, because right then he just needed to be alone. He headed for the lift, strode down the corridor to the Park Café as it opened, picked up a cappuccino with an extra shot and went outside, sucking in the fresh air.
It was still cool, only seven o’clock, but it was going to be a gorgeous summer’s day and he found an unoccupied bench and sat sipping his coffee in the slanting post-dawn sunshine, letting the tension ease out of him.
He’d been so tense at times during Em’s labour—totally illogically because it had been utterly straightforward, but he had been, anyway. She’d been through so much with Pete in the last few years and he’d felt so responsible for her care and safety during her labour, so duty-bound to make sure that nothing bad happened either to Pete’s baby or to Emily herself.
He’d worried until he’d heard that first cry, but not for the baby so much as for Emily and what it would have done to her if anything had gone wrong. If the baby hadn’t made it...
He’d been much more detached about Jo when she was in labour—partly, he had to admit, because he’d never really been in love with her. Not that he was in love with Em, not that he’d ever admit to, even to himself, and certainly not to her, although he’d come close to it years ago after the wedding of mutual friends. It was shortly after she’d met Pete, and after the wedding wound up they’d walked back to their hotel and she’d gone to his room for coffee and things had got a little out of control.
Maybe it was the champagne, maybe it was the music, maybe just the whole soppy romantic thing of it, but before he’d known what had happened they’d been on the brink of making love. Then her phone had pinged with a text from Pete, and it had acted like a bucket of cold water over both of them, stopping them in their tracks.
She’d fled to her room and they’d never mentioned it again in all these years, but it had been the moment when he realised the full extent of his feelings for her. Feelings she hadn’t reciprocated, because she’d gone straight back to Pete the following day and he’d had to learn to live with it.
He’d buried those feelings for her so deep he’d almost forgotten them, but he still loved her deeply as a friend, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, or her for him. She meant the world to him. She was his best, his dearest, most loyal and honest friend, and he’d be lost without her.
Not that her honesty was always an asset. There were times you didn’t want to be told you were being an idiot, but she’d never been wrong.
He’d met her in freshers’ week, when she’d found him handcuffed to the railings outside university halls at six in the morning, stark naked and horribly hungover, next to a pile of dew-soaked clothes carefully placed just out of reach. She’d been heading out for a run when she’d seen him, and she’d found the key taped to the fence beside his clothes and set him free, but not before she’d lectured his ear off.
In between laughing herself silly.
He’d loved her from that moment, through all the ups and downs of med school, their first clinical placements—dammit, he’d even walked her down the aisle to marry Pete, knowing he had cancer, knowing how hard it would be for her, but knowing, too, that he had to be there for her no matter what.
And he had been. Still was, always would be.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out and read the text with a chuckle.
Safe to come back now. The messy stuff is over. In a side room.
He drained his cold coffee, dropped the cup in a bin on the way past and went up to see her.
She was sitting up cross-legged in bed breastfeeding the baby, and it hit him like a brick. Jo had never done that—said it didn’t work for her, which had saddened him, but she’d made it clear that it wasn’t his decision and in the end he was just grateful she’d gone through with the pregnancy at all.
He shoved the thought aside and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to Emily’s forehead, breathing in the fresh scent of shampoo. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘OK. I feel much better now I’ve had a shower.’ She caught hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. ‘Thank you for getting me through it. I was so scared.’
He wrapped his hands around hers. ‘Silly girl. I told you I’d look after you, and I won’t stop just because you’ve had the baby now. You know I’m here for you for as long as you need me, don’t you? And I’m not just saying that.’
‘Oh, Jake...’
Her eyes welled, and he leant over and hugged her carefully before detaching himself and stepping back, creating some much-needed distance. ‘So, how’s the feeding going?’
‘Oh, he’s a natural, apparently. He certainly knows what he wants and goes for it—that’s good, according to Liv, although you could have fooled me,’ she added with a wry smile.
He chuckled. ‘It is good, and you’ll soon both settle into it.’ He dropped into the chair beside her bed and stifled a yawn.
‘Tired?’
‘A bit. Long night, with all this added excitement at the end of it, but see? I told you nothing would go wrong.’
Her smile faded. ‘Nothing else, you mean? I suppose never getting to meet his father is enough. We were probably owed a break.’
‘Yes, I think you were,’ he said softly, then after a slight pause, ‘Have you thought of a name?’
‘Zachary—Zach. Pete liked it, and he always said if we had a boy he’d want to call him that, so I said I would. Zachary Peter, for him, and Jacob.’ She smiled again and held his eyes. ‘For my best friend.’
‘Wow.’ He swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘That means a lot, Em. Thank you.’
‘It’s the least I could do. I couldn’t have done this without you, Jake—any of it. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane since Pete’s cancer came back.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’ve been amazing. You’ve done incredibly well.’
‘Hardly. I’ve just got through it one day at a time, didn’t have a choice.’ She looked down at her baby, fast asleep now, and a little worried frown crossed her face. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to have to go back to work and leave him.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t have to worry about that now. You’ve only just had him. There’s plenty of time.’
‘I know, but it doesn’t stop me worrying about how I’ll juggle a baby and my job. I can’t just ignore the future.’
He reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry about money, Em,’ he said firmly. ‘It’ll sort itself out, and if it doesn’t, I’ll help you.’
‘How? You’re already supporting Jo and Matilda. You can’t run three households, Jake, and anyway, it’s not just money, it’s my career. I’m the sole breadwinner, have been for ages, but I worked hard to get where I am and I can’t afford to neglect it.’
He dug out a smile. ‘We’ll find a way. Just concentrate on the baby. He’s the most important thing, and the only thing you need to worry about at the moment. The rest will sort itself out. In the meantime, I’ve got two post-op patients to see and then I’m done, so I’ll go and get the house ready and come back for you.’
* * *
He made up the little crib he’d used for Matilda, put flowers in his sitting room to welcome her home, and went back with the car seat from her pram to find her ready to go.
‘Here—have a cuddle while I put my cardi on,’ she said, and he put the baby seat down on the bed and took Zach from her, settling him easily in the crook of an elbow and staring down at him with an odd sensation in his chest.
‘Hello, little guy,’ he murmured, his finger tracing the line of his tiny nose while that annoying lump reappeared in his throat. ‘Gosh, you’re like your daddy.’
‘That’s what his parents said. I sent them a photo. I’m so pleased for them that they haven’t lost all of him.’
And neither had Em. He swallowed the lump again and put his feelings back where they belonged, deep below the surface.
‘Come on, then. Time to go home,’ he said, clipping the baby into the seat, but his words echoed in the quiet room and he had to remind himself that, for them at least, his house wasn’t home, and he’d do well to remember it.
