Joss Wood - With Love From Cape Town

‘It can be uncomfortable,’ Niall admitted. ‘That’s why we sedate you. But, I can promise you, you won’t remember a thing about it afterwards. You might be a little sore for a couple of hours, but we’ll give you something for the pain.’

He spent a few more minutes going over the same ground with the excited couple before he called in Mairi, who would be co-ordinating their treatment.

‘Mairi will answer any other questions you might have,’ Niall assured the couple, ‘but if you ever want to speak to me, you have my number.’

‘Thank you, Dr Ferguson.’ Eilidh was beaming and two bright spots of colour stained her cheeks. ‘I know there’s a chance treatment won’t work, but you have given us hope. That’s all we can ask for.’

When the couple had accompanied Mairi from the room, John made to follow, but Robina stopped him. ‘We’ll pick them up later through their treatment,’ she said, ‘but in the meantime, let’s give them some privacy.’

When John left the room in search of some coffee, Robina turned to Niall. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, ‘you kept everything very simple. I’m sure our viewers will appreciate that.’

Niall smiled wryly. ‘It’s the way I speak to all my patients,’ he said slowly. ‘My God, woman, don’t you know me at all?’

And there was the rub. She didn’t really know him or, for that matter, he her. Niall had always thought they would have the rest of their lives and had looked forward to years and years of learning about the complicated, complex woman who had agreed to become his wife. Instead, he thought bitterly, it had all started to go wrong almost as soon as they’d married. Truth was, things hadn’t being going well even before the miscarriage. He had been so busy at work, and Robina’s new career in the media had taken off like a bullet. At first he had shared her excitement about the job, even though it had meant postponing the honeymoon, which had somehow become permanently postponed.

He hadn’t realised how little he would see of her. How much her new job would take her away. Then when, to the delight of both of them, she had fallen pregnant, it had seemed that everything was going to work out fine. After the series finished she would take time off to prepare for their child. At last they could begin to be a family. But, boy, had he got that wrong! Whilst he’d assumed she’d spend less time at work, she had worked even harder, determined to establish her career before the baby arrived.

Two days before she had miscarried they had argued bitterly. Robina had returned home from London looking exhausted. She had barely managed to find the energy to eat and Niall was worried that she was losing weight.

‘You need to slow down, Robina. You can’t keep working at this pace.’ He tossed the words down like a gauntlet.

‘I will, soon. C’mon, Niall, you and I both know that pregnancy isn’t an illness. In Africa, women often keep working until days before the baby is born.’ She touched him gently on the cheek, but he grasped her hand and held it in his. He knew if he allowed her to touch him, he’d end up wanting to take her to bed. God knew, that was the one thing that was still okay, more than okay, between them.

‘You can’t keep burning the candles at both ends. You’re working on the show then on your book and they still want you to do public appearances. It’s too much.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you don’t think I should do the show?’ she retorted, a dangerous glint in her deep brown eyes.

‘Yes, that’s what I’m saying. It’s all too much. And what about after the baby is born? I thought we agreed you’d be staying at home to look after it and Ella.’

‘Did we?’ Her eyes deepened and her full, generous mouth tightened. ‘Is that why you married me, Niall? To provide a full-time mother for your child and any other children you might want? Because, and let me make this clear, I am not Mairead. I’m not the kind of woman to give up her career just to submit myself to my husband’s wishes.’

‘Leave Mairead out of this,’ he responded furiously.

‘But I can’t, can I? Not when she’s everywhere. I’m living in her house, married to her husband, looking after her child. How can I possibly leave her out of this?’ Suddenly a shadow crossed her eyes. ‘I know she was a wonderful woman. God knows, everyone tells me, and I can see it for myself.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re jealous of her. She’s dead, for God’s sake.’

‘I’m not jealous of her, Niall,’ Robina responded quietly, ‘I just can’t live up to her any longer. I will never be good at what she was. I can’t cook, I can’t sew, I’m not good at sports, all I am good at is my job. Please don’t take that away from me.’

But he refused to see what she was so desperately trying to tell him. That night they went to bed, but instead of reaching for each other, they lay stiffly side by side, neither prepared to give an inch. Two days later, she went into labour, losing their baby, a little boy, at 12 weeks. The memory of Robina’s face, tight with fear and pain, still tormented him. She had looked at him, needing him to do something, anything, to stop her losing the baby—but for the second time in his life, he had been powerless to help. The sadness in his wife’s eyes when she had known that there was nothing anyone could do had almost torn him apart. When he had tried to comfort her, she had turned away. Then, a few days later, she had been in ITU with an infection, fighting for her life, and he had been terrified he was about to lose her. Robina’s illness had brought back memories of Mairead and the gut-wrenching weeks and days leading up to his first wife’s death. He hadn’t been able to save Mairead and the thought he was going to lose Robina too had almost driven him mad with fear.

Not once had they spoken about their child or the fact that Robina was probably infertile. They had never shared their grief, or given or taken the slightest amount of comfort from one another, and one way or another their marriage had never recovered. When Robina had come home from hospital she had asked him to move into the spare room, saying that she wanted time and space on her own for a while. After a couple of weeks he had suggested he move back into their bed, but she had shaken her head and asked for more time. He didn’t ask her again and that was the way it had been ever since.

Niall dragged a hand through his hair. It was a mess. And for once in his life, he didn’t have a clue what to do.

Robina had been watching him in silence. He wondered what she was thinking.

‘Our baby would be due in a couple of weeks.’ Robina spoke softly, almost to herself. ‘Just about the anniversary of the day we met. Seeing baby Matthew just now…’ Her voice shook ‘…was so hard.’

The familiar mask he had become too used to seeing slipped for a moment. Right now she looked so vulnerable, so sad, so different from the public persona which was all he ever saw these days. For the first time in months he glimpsed the Robina he had met and fallen in love with. He wanted to gather her into his arms but he was afraid to break the spell. It was the first time she had mentioned the baby and Niall felt a surge of hope. Perhaps this documentary wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Not if it meant they would start talking. He sat in silence, waiting for her to continue, but just then there was a knock and Sally burst into the room.

‘Dr Ferguson, I need you to come and see one of our ladies. I think she might have OHSS.’

Niall was torn. He wanted to comfort his wife, seize the moment when she had opened up to him, but if Sally was right and the patient did have ovarian hyper stimulation syndrome, he needed to see her straight away. Although in the early stages the condition was fairly benign, it was still a potentially life-threatening illness.