Deborah Crombie - Necessary as Blood

The next thing Gemma knew, Duncan was lifting Charlotte from her arms, and the room had grown dim. She reached out, making a little sound of protest, but Duncan said, “Shhh. Betty’s here. Go back to sleep.”

But now the space beside her seemed empty, and she felt oddly bereft. Voices drifted up the stairs, then the front door slammed-Toby’s doing, no doubt. Gemma sat up, switching on the light against the dusk, trying to bring back the remnants of an interrupted dream.

The phone rang and she swore. Whatever it had been, the fragment of clarity was gone. The ringing went on. Duncan and the boys must still be outside talking to Betty, Gemma thought. She stretched towards the nightstand and picked up the handset.

When Duncan came upstairs a few minutes later, she was still crying. The tears had come unexpectedly, uncontrollably, when she’d hung up the phone, and she had been horrified to find herself sobbing.

“Gemma! What’s happened?” He hurried to her and sat down on the bed, peering at her anxiously. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. No,” she said, on a hiccup. “I mean, it’s not me. That was Jack. Winnie’s not doing well. They’ve admitted her to hospital. Enforced bed rest, and the baby’s not due for another month.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Duncan handed her a tissue from the nightstand and she blew her nose. “But she’ll be okay,” he said, “now they’re looking after her.”

“They’ve managed to stop the contractions, but her blood pressure’s up…I can’t bear thinking they might lose the baby-not Jack and Winnie, after everything they’ve been through. And not after-Yesterday, the hospital-” She couldn’t finish.

He pulled her to him gently and stroked her back. “Oh, love, I know,” he said, and his voice was rough. “But try not to worry. Are you sure you feel all right?”

Gemma gave a strangled laugh. “I think this stupid head injury is making me daft. I never cry like this.” She pulled away so that she could look at him. “And the worst thing is, it’s not just because I’m worried about Winnie. Part of it is just because I’m selfish. I so wanted Winnie and Jack to be here for the wedding, and now it seems everything’s gone wrong…”

He glanced away, his face very still. When he spoke, his voice was flat, colorless. “I understand if you don’t want to go through with it, Gemma.”

“No, no,” she said, taking his hand and rubbing her thumb across the fine skin between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s not that at all.” He looked at her then, but she wasn’t sure she could read the expression in his gray eyes. “The thing is…” She struggled to find the words. “I just want us to go on as we are. I don’t want to get married. I want to be married. It’s the wedding I can’t cope with, and my bloody family. But I can’t bear to disappoint my mum, and I’m so afraid…I’m so afraid she won’t-”

“Oh, Gemma.” This time he pulled her to him so tightly it hurt her head, but she didn’t protest. His heart beat beneath her ear, and she thought she felt him tremble.

“I’m so sorry, love,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no. Don’t you worry about anything. We’ll sort something out, and I’ll deal with your sister.” His tone made her glad she wasn’t Cyn. “If we have to, we’ll take your mum with us and run away to Gretna Green.”

“That would be very romantic,” she said, managing a sniffled laugh.

“Well, I’m sure that as brilliant detectives, we can come up with some solution that will make you and your mother happy.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “And I-I don’t care if we have a wedding on Mars. I just want to be with you.”

Kincaid stood in the kitchen, trying to collect himself enough to make Gemma another cup of tea and something to eat-simple enough tasks-but he found he was staring at the refrigerator and the teakettle as if they were alien artifacts.

The house seemed unnaturally quiet-Betty had taken the boys home with her for a bit, saying she needed help with the frames for the costumes she was making, but had whispered to him that she just wanted to give Gemma a bit of peace.

But it was he who had been given the respite by the children’s absence. It had allowed him to think, allowed him to admit for the first time, even to himself, how terrified he had been that he might lose Gemma, how afraid he’d been that she’d come to regret her impulsive proposal. He’d felt as if she were slipping away from him, and he hadn’t known how to stop it.

When he’d gone up to get Charlotte, he’d stood for a long moment, watching Gemma sleep with the child beside her, and he’d realized that now he simply couldn’t imagine his life without their oddly cobbled-together family. And then doubt had assailed him-he’d wondered if Gemma would ever be entirely willing to commit herself to them, or if there would always be some secret core in her heart that refused to yield.

And then she’d admitted, at last, how much she still grieved for the child they had lost. And she had cried. It meant, perhaps, that she could heal-that they could both heal, and that their loss would not separate them, but bind them closer.

But that thought brought him back to the problem at hand. What in bloody hell was he going to do about the wedding? He’d promised her he would sort it out, but he hadn’t the foggiest how he was going to do it. Maybe Gretna Green wasn’t such a bad idea…

The trill of the phone broke his reverie, galvanizing him. He lunged for it, hoping it hadn’t disturbed Gemma, hoping it wasn’t Jack with more bad news.

But to his relief it was Hazel, asking about Gemma. “I was worried about her yesterday,” she said. “I’ve been thinking I shouldn’t have let her drive home.”

“And I was an idiot. I should have seen she needed to go to hospital. I should have insisted the minute I saw that bruise. She could have-” He stopped, unwilling to articulate what might have happened. Instead, he told Hazel that the doctor had ordered Gemma to rest for a few days, and then about Winnie and Jack.

“Duncan, are you sure Gemma’s all right? Emotionally, I mean?” Hazel added, a bit hesitantly. “It’s just that yesterday she seemed awfully worried about her mum and stressed about the wedding…Her sister-”

“Oh, I’m going to have a word with Cynthia. She’s going to mind her own business or she’s going to have to deal with me. But if Gemma and I get married in a registry office, without family-which seems the only manageable solution-and then Vi…gets worse, Cyn will have already convinced Gemma that it’s her fault. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Gemma’s family bugger this. I just can’t work out exactly what to do.”

“It’s difficult, yes,” Hazel said slowly. “But I think I might have an idea.”

A trio of Bangladeshi girls came up the street towards us, chewing gum and smiling and chatting amongst themselves. They were dressed modestly in long black coats, loose trousers, and hijabs, but they also wore make-up and lipstick and their nails were manicured and polished.

– Tarquin Hall, Salaam Brick Lane

The enforced idleness had not been as bad as Gemma had expected, because either Betty or Wesley had managed to bring Charlotte for visits every day, and Melody had kept her updated on work. Her guv’nor had sent her flowers, and rung Kincaid to give him the mickey, threatening to run him in on assault.

But by Thursday she’d been chafing at the bit, and after getting a release from the doctor that afternoon, she charged into the office on Friday morning with a zeal that had her staff groaning in mock dismay.