Marion Lennox - His Secret Love-Child

‘I’m sorry, Charles,’ he said at last, and Charles gave a bitter laugh.

‘You should be sorry, you lucky sod. I can’t have kids, and if you know how much that hurts… But you. You have a son appear out of the blue and you don’t make the slightest effort to keep him.’

That was a bit much. ‘Hey, Charles, I asked her to marry me,’ he protested. ‘I want to marry her. She needs me. She’s diabetic, a single mum, trying to raise a kid by herself…’

‘And that’s how you proposed.’

‘Of course it is.’

‘You’re a fool.’

‘What?’

‘I had a proposal once,’ Charles said, the pain on his face replaced by a look of reflection. ‘A nurse. Abigail. Abby. I went out with her a few times and we had a ball. I even thought I was in love. And then before I got around to proposing, she proposed for me. She said she wanted to spend the rest of her life caring for me. That she thought I was really brave, the way I faced life, and I had so much courage and she’d never let anything hurt me again. She said she loved me. And you know what? I ran a mile.’

Cal stilled. ‘You’re saying…’

‘I’m saying need’s no basis for a marriage. If ever I fall for anyone, it will have be someone who needs me as much as I need her. Do you see that, Cal?’

‘Yeah, but-’

‘But you won’t let yourself go there. Because of your past.’

‘You know, I really should get myself my own house,’ Cal said, raking his hair in disbelief. ‘You and Hamish and Emily and Grace. And who else? Even Mrs Grubb’s had a go at me. Let’s sort out Cal’s problems.’

‘Well, you won’t sort them out yourself.’

‘I don’t have any problems.’

‘Yeah, you do. You have a kid out there who’s desperate for a dad, and you have a fantastic woman who you’ve held in your heart for years…’

‘I don’t need her.’

‘The household says you do,’ Charles said with a wry grin. ‘And who are you to go against the decision of your housemates? You’d be a very brave man to try. Now, tell me about this planned swimming pool of yours. Hamish says you need Wetherby money. How are we going to organise that?’

She should have organised to leave tomorrow, Gina thought over and over again as the night stretched out. She was lying in bed and she could hear people out in the living room. They were playing billiards. Cal was there. She could hear his voice, raised in protest at something Hamish was saying, laughing with Emily, and there was such a surge of longing in her heart that it was all she could do not to get up and join them.

Did they know how lucky they were-to have such friends?

She’d told Cal she was going home to Idaho to her family and friends, but in truth her family and her friends were few and far between. Paul’s illness had isolated them. Friends had dropped away and Paul’s mother had died. Gina’s parents were divorced and remarried with more children and grandchildren, and Gina was only a tiny part of their lives.

The laughter from the living room was unbearable.

Maybe she should marry Cal, she thought bleakly. It’d be better than going back to Idaho. And maybe it could work. Maybe in time…

Maybe in time she’d break her heart. To love with Cal but to never be allowed close. To always be the taker. The dependent one.

No.

So she should leave now.

But she’d thought the baby might need her and so she’d promised to stay and now she’d told Bruce she’d come with him on his crocodile-hunting expedition, and she’d told CJ and he was wearing Bruce’s hat and he was so excited…

Bruce was definitely interested.

So what? She wasn’t interested. Not while Cal was alive in the world.

It was an impossible situation. Crazy.

One more day. One day spent hunting crocodiles and then it would be over.

It would never be over and she knew it.

Midnight. Cal was staring down at Lucky’s incubator, watching the tiny chest rise and fall. Over and over. One tiny baby taking the first step toward living.

He slipped his hand through an incubator port and touched the tiny hand. The little fist opened and the fingers clung around his finger.

‘He’s fantastic.’

He was startled but he didn’t jerk. Not with that tiny hand holding him with such trust. It was Emily coming up behind him.

‘Your dog’s blocking the entrance to Casualty,’ Emily told him. ‘I thought I’d find you here.’

‘He’s not my dog.’

‘CJ says he is,’ Emily said, and smiled. She looked down at the baby and her smile faded. ‘Poor little one.’

‘He’ll live.’

‘But where’s his mother? His family? He has no one.’

‘He’s tough,’ Cal said, trying not to let the sensation of one tiny hand clutching his finger make him sound emotional. ‘He’s a survivor. You don’t need people to survive.’

‘Of course you do,’ Emily said, startled. ‘We need to find him a foster-family. They’ll have to be the best. Special people to love a special little boy.’

‘He’ll survive,’ Cal said again into the stillness, and Em shook her head.

‘There’s survival and survival, Cal. We need to find this little one someone who’ll love him to bits.’ She smiled. ‘What about you?’

‘Me?’

‘Well, you’re in adoption mode. First Rudolph and now…’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I’m not being ridiculous,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘If you can’t have CJ…well, I think a son is just who you need.’

‘I don’t need anyone.’

‘Now, why do I think that’s a nonsense?’ she said. She watched as he reluctantly released the grip of those tiny fingers. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I thought I’d check-’

‘Hamish and I are well able to look after him and Gina’s only a call away.’

‘I thought-’

‘You thought your bedroom seemed really, really empty,’ Emily said softly. ‘Well, mine is, too. It’s a really bleak feeling but it’s something we’re going to have to get used to. Meanwhile, can I suggest you go remove your mutt from the door of Casualty before someone falls over him and sues the hospital for zillions? We’ve all had just about as much drama as we can stand in the last few days-and then some.’

‘She won’t talk to me. She’s got her head in the pillow and she won’t even look up when I go in.’ Jim sounded as shaken as his daughter and Honey pulled out a kitchen chair and motioned him into it.

‘Hush. You’re not to upset yourself.’

‘But what’s going on?’

‘She’s menstrual and she has the flu,’ Honey told him. Then because he clearly wasn’t satisfied she added a rider. ‘And she’s been thinking of the boy you sent away. Dwelling on it. What she needs is something to take her mind off it but it’s a bit hard where we are.’

‘Why is she thinking about him now?’ Jim was astounded. ‘I thought she’d forgotten all about him.’

‘When you’re feeling poorly, things mount up in your head.’

‘That’s why she won’t talk to me. She blames me.’

‘She knows why you hate the Wetherbys,’ Honey told him. ‘We all do. She doesn’t blame you. It was just unfortunate. For her to fall for him…’

‘Then why isn’t she talking to me?’

‘She’s not talking to anyone,’ Honey said miserably. ‘I guess we have to sit back and wait for her to get better. All by herself.’

Breakfast at the house was very, very strained. There were six medics sitting around the breakfast table. The huge toaster on the sideboard was working overtime; they were onto their second pot of marmalade but there wasn’t a lot of conversation. Everyone was watching Gina and Cal-and Gina and Cal were very carefully trying not to look at each other.