The Baby Swap Miracle (8 page)

‘What’s wrong?’ A slow smile dawned on her face, and she looked up and met his eyes, her tender expression bringing a lump to his throat.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she said softly. ‘It’s starting to get really active, and it—it just stops me in my tracks sometimes.’ She coloured slightly, and then held out a hand to him. ‘Do you want to feel it?’

Did he? He’d been desperate to at first, but now he wasn’t sure. There was a part of him that was longing to lay his hand over his child, but another part that was afraid of such intimate contact with Emelia, because he knew it would complicate things even further. But he got up, on legs that felt suddenly rubbery and uncooperative, and sat down beside her. She took his hand and pressed it to the smooth little curve, and he felt something move under his palm. Almost a fluttering, barely discernible and yet unmistakeable.

His baby. His baby, growing inside her, and there was something shockingly intimate about it, shockingly
right
.

He let his breath out on a huff of amazement and met her eyes, and something happened then, some incredible sense of connection, of belonging, and he leant in closer,
drawing her wordlessly against him and pressing his lips to her hair.

The baby shifted again, and he chuckled softly, amazed at the sensation. ‘That must be so weird,’ he murmured a little gruffly.

‘It is. It’s really strange at first, but wonderful.’

‘It’s incredible. So strong for something so tiny.’

His fingers were splayed over her bump, his thumb almost grazing the underside of her breast, his fingers perilously close to forbidden territory. He shifted his hand again, and she nearly whimpered. It would be so easy to pretend this was real, to fall into the cosy little trap and let him take over, let him look after her as he was obviously wanting to do.

And maybe—she’d seen the way he looked at her from time to time. She’d thought it was because of the baby, but thinking about it, he’d looked at her like that before, when they’d met on other occasions at the clinic. So maybe she hadn’t misread it at all. Maybe he did want her, for herself and not just for the child. Could she trust it? Could it really be so simple?

Probably not. He’d already told her he was more cautious now, and she was about to pull back when he lifted his hand and eased away, saving her the trouble.

‘It seems to have gone back to sleep,’ he said, his voice scratchy and strange, and he retreated before he did something really, really stupid like kiss her.

Because he’d been
this close
…

‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ she said softly, her eyes slightly unfocused. ‘It feels so
real
now! It’s sort of been a bit theoretical, you know? A bit—I don’t know, almost as if it was happening to somebody else, but now—now it really feels like mine.’

Her eyes filled with tears, and he closed his own, her face too painful to watch.

She was thinking of James. He was sure she was, thinking of the man who should have been here with her, feeling the baby move, sharing the moment. Not a random stranger linked to her forever by an inadvertent error which had cost her more than anyone could ever know.

There was no amount of compensation that could make up for what she’d lost, and nothing he could do to make up for the fact that the baby would be his and not James’. But he could make her life easier, and he could care for her, and he would love his child—because it was his, too, as much as hers—to the end of his days.

But not Emelia. She was off limits, and she was staying that way. He’d given up dreaming.

‘I’m going to do some paperwork,’ he said brusquely, and getting to his feet, he walked out, leaving Daisy torn between her new friend who was sitting by a plateful of biscuits, or the man who’d fed her and walked her and played with her since she was tiny. No contest.

She stayed with the biscuits, and he went alone.

Alone, the way he wanted it, the way he liked it.

It was safer that way.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HEY
went the next morning to collect her things, in the big four-wheel-drive estate car he’d bought when he’d moved to the house. It had been used for any number of things, but this was one he’d never anticipated—collecting the possessions of a woman who was carrying his child.

He glanced across at her, and she gave him a fleeting smile. She looked tense, a little uneasy. Not hard to work out why.

It was about thirty-five miles to her in-laws’, and as the miles rolled by, she became more tense and withdrawn. And he was concerned. He could see how much she was dreading it, but she’d insisted on doing it herself. He wondered now if she’d changed her mind.

‘Are you OK with this?’ he asked quietly, as he pulled up in the street close to the house she indicated.

‘I have to be. I’ll just say as little as possible, because if I open my mouth, I’m afraid I may not shut it.’

He hesitated for a second, then reached out and squeezed her hand. Just briefly, but she turned her head and met his eyes, and he felt as if she’d shown him the deepest, most intimate recesses of her soul. And it robbed his breath.

‘Emelia—stay here,’ he urged, shocked at the pain and anger and betrayal he’d seen there. ‘Let me get the stuff.
You can go for a walk or something. Just tell me where it is, so I know what I’m looking for, and I’ll deal with them.’

She looked away, so, so tempted by his offer, but knowing she had to do this herself. ‘I never have to see them again,’ she said. ‘I can manage.’

Although she wasn’t sure she could. And the first step was to let go of Sam’s warm, strong hand which she seemed to be holding again, so he could turn into the drive.

She freed her fingers and unclipped her seat belt, then got out and walked towards the front door. They were expecting her, but it was still a few moments before Brian opened the door, and she was grateful for Sam’s strong, silent presence behind her when he did.

‘Julia’s out,’ he said, looking uncomfortable. ‘She couldn’t face seeing you.’

‘And you could?’ she said softly, knowing he’d been complicit, even if it hadn’t been his idea, but then she cut herself off with a little shake of her head. ‘Look, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve just come to collect my things, and then I’ll go. This is Sam, by the way. He’s a friend of a friend. He’s got an estate car and he said he’d give me a hand.’

It was all true, but not the blatant, most glaring truth which she was reluctant to reveal. Brian swallowed it, anyway, and offered his help, but Sam refused.

‘That’s all right, I’m sure we can manage.’

‘Don’t let her lift anything.’

She caught the icy look Sam gave her father-in-law, saw him pale and step back. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he muttered, and went off in the direction of the kitchen. Relieved, Emelia led Sam through to the annexe bedroom and looked around. Nothing had been touched—except the diary. It was missing. And his watch and pen, but not his wedding ring, she realised.

It was as if Julia had wanted to cut Emelia out of their lives by choosing to ignore their son’s marriage, and in a moment of defiance, she picked up the ring and slipped it into her pocket. It was hers, after all. She’d bought it, she’d given it to him. And she had no intention of forgetting the man she’d loved with all her heart.

She opened the wardrobe, and Sam watched her thoughtfully as she studied the contents. He’d seen her hesitate, seen her pick up the ring and lift her chin defiantly as she’d put it in her pocket.

And he’d seen the pain in her eyes as she’d turned.

‘OK, is this it?’ he asked, breaking the endless silence, and she nodded.

‘Yes. Everything at this end. There’s a side door we can use to take it out.’

‘OK. You go and sit in the car, I’ll do this.’

‘No, I’m OK,’ she said, but she sat down, anyway, on the bed, her fingers absently pleating the cover as he carried the bags and boxes and hangers of clothes out to the car. The packing was a bit haphazard, to say the least, but it didn’t take long to load. It probably would have fitted in her car, at a pinch, he thought. There was something incredibly sad about that small pile of her possessions, and he stood back and looked at it and wondered how after a lengthy relationship she had so little to show for it.

Shaking his head slowly, he went back into the house and found her sitting where he’d left her. ‘All done.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, but she didn’t move, just looked around, her eyes empty.

‘I’ll be in the car,’ he said, giving her space to make her farewells, and she nodded.

‘I should say goodbye.’

She locked the door after him, and walked slowly back
to the kitchen. Brian was sitting at the table waiting, his face drawn.

‘Got everything?’ he asked, and she nodded.

Then, despite her best intentions, found herself unable to ignore the elephant in the room.

‘She had no right to do that, either to me or to him, and neither did you,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve put me through hell, Brian. It was bad enough losing James. To know you and Julia deceived us both like that—it’s beyond immoral. You should be ashamed.’

He ducked his head. ‘I am. We are. But we thought, a child—’

‘You thought a child would replace your son, which shows how little you really knew him, because you could never replace him. He was unique. We’re all unique. You should have respected that and concentrated on loving him instead of scheming to keep a bit of him alive for your own selfish ends.’

She turned, to find that Julia had come in and was standing behind her, ashen-faced and trembling. ‘Emelia, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly,’ she said brokenly. ‘Please forgive me.’

Emelia hesitated. It would be so easy to walk away and leave it like this, but Julia was right, they’d been out of their minds with grief and under those circumstances judgement could become skewed.

‘I’ll try,’ she promised, too hurt for anything but honesty. ‘You may have more trouble forgiving yourself.’

Julia nodded, sniffing to hold back the tears. ‘I left his ring for you,’ she said then. ‘I thought—you might have left it by mistake.’

She could feel it in her pocket, pressing into her thigh, and she slid her hand in and pulled it out and handed it to Julia.

‘You keep it. I don’t need it now,’ she said gently, and squeezed her hand. It tightened convulsively for a moment, then let her go.

Sam was waiting for her in the car, and as she closed the front door behind her, he got out and came round and opened the car door for her, his hand touching her shoulder gently.

‘All right?’ he asked, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she lied, trying to hold it together at least until they were off the drive. ‘Can we go?’

‘Sure.’

He slid behind the wheel, fired up the engine and pulled smoothly away without another word, as if he realised how hard she was finding it.

She blinked a few times, glanced back in the wing mirror at the receding house, and then fixed her eyes firmly ahead. That was what she should be concentrating on—the future. Not the past. The past was gone. Over.

‘Want a coffee?’

‘Not here. Let’s get right away first.’

He nodded and concentrated on the road, and as they cleared the town boundaries, she turned her head towards him and gave him a fleeting and probably rather wobbly smile.

‘Sorry. End of an era.’

His eyes were gentle and concerned, and he nodded. ‘I saw a woman go in. She looked a little upset. Was that Julia?’

‘Yes. I—um—I said more than I meant to, but maybe it was as well. We cleared the air. She asked me to forgive her.’

‘And did you?’

She gave a tiny shrug. ‘I said I’d try. I don’t know. I have
to let go, and to do that I have to forgive her, don’t I? You can forgive without excusing.’

‘I don’t know,’ he said quietly. ‘Sometimes you just have to move on in whatever way you can.’

It wasn’t a good time in my life.

Was that what he’d been doing when he’d bought the house? Moving on, in whatever way he could? Poor Sam—but he seemed confident he was doing the right thing now, so maybe she shouldn’t feel sorry for him, even if he had lost his dream…

When they got back he carried her things up to her bedroom for her, refusing to let her lift any of them, and when she started to put them away, he stopped her.

‘Leave that for now. I’m starving and we never did get coffee.’

‘Oh. Well, you go ahead, I’m not really hungry.’

‘Emelia—’

‘Please, Sam,’ she said, and then her voice cracked and the tears she’d been holding down for hours now spilt over and coursed down her face.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he murmured, and she felt him gather her up into his arms, cradling her face against his chest as he led her to the ottoman and sat down with his arms round her, rocking her gently as she cried.

It felt so good to be held by him, so safe. And today had been such an awful day…

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered unevenly. ‘It was just really hard. There were so many memories—’

‘I’m sure there were. You don’t need to apologise,’ he murmured gruffly, smoothing her hair with his hand and wishing there was something he could do to ease the pain she was feeling. But there wasn’t, because he was the cause of it, in a way, or at least the facilitator that had enabled the
clinic to make the mistake. Without him, she wouldn’t have become pregnant, and she and Julia and Brian would have parted company in a much more gentle way, without this tearing grief that was threatening to destroy them all.

All he could do was be there for her.

‘I’m sorry. I’m OK now,’ she said, easing away and swiping the tears from her cheeks. He pulled a tissue out of the box beside the bed and handed it to her, and watched with a frown as she mopped herself up. ‘What an idiot,’ she mumbled, feeling stupidly self-conscious now as he studied her.

‘You’re not an idiot,’ he said gruffly, dropping down onto his haunches in front of her and taking her hands in his. ‘You’re a brave and wonderful woman, and I’m immensely proud of the way you conducted yourself today. You were gracious and dignified, and it can’t have been easy.’