Anne Mather - Loren's Baby

‘Yes.’

Laura grimaced. ‘So when are you taking him?’

‘I’m not. He wants to come here.’

Laura ran a hand over the swelling mound of her stomach and subsided into a chair with evident relief. ‘Heavens!’

Caryn forced a rueful smile. ‘Yes. I’d better see about tidying my place up.’

‘I didn’t mean that. And besides, it isn’t so bad.’

Caryn sighed. ‘It isn’t so good. But since Loren died … and having him …’ She tipped her head towards the pram from which direction a low gurgling sound could be heard.

Laura shook her head uncomprehendingly. ‘I don’t know how you can consider giving him away,’ she burst out unwillingly. ‘He’s adorable. And so sweet …’

‘Oh, Laura!’ Caryn shifted restlessly. ‘How can I keep him? I don’t earn enough to support him, for one thing. And who would look after him while I was at work? You can’t much longer, and then …’

‘But don’t you love him?’

‘There’s not much point, is there?’ murmured Caryn bitterly, getting up and walking across the room, coming to a halt reluctantly beside the folding pram. Of course he was sweet, she thought impatiently, as she saw the quiff of feathery fair hair, the plump little hands curling and uncurling, the softly pursed lips oozing dribbles down his chin. Laura was right—he was a good baby. But she had no time for babies.

The kettle whistled and Laura got up to make the tea, and returning to her seat Caryn reflected what good friends the Westons had been to her. Without their assistance, she could never have kept the baby this long, but she had been determined not to let the social services people take him. Not after what Loren had begged her to do.

And yet it hadn’t been easy, making up her mind to go and see Tristan Ross. For one thing, she had had to find out where he lived and whether he was there at the moment. He spent quite a lot of his time travelling, but fortunately Bob had had connections in the television industry, and he had supplied the information that when Ross returned from his present trip to Canada he was scheduled to do a series of programmes for a London television company.

Laura carried the tray of tea into the living room and set it down on a table near at hand. Caryn came to join her, and they each enjoyed the reviving flavour of the beverage.

Munching a biscuit, which she confessed she should not be eating, Laura asked when Tristan Ross intended to come to the flat.

‘I don’t know,’ Caryn admitted with a sigh. ‘But I gave him the phone number. I guess he’ll ring first and make an appointment. He’s used to doing that sort of thing.’

‘What was he like?’

Laura was intrigued, but Caryn just poured herself more tea and gave an offhand shrug of her shoulders. ‘You know what he’s like,’ she said. ‘You’ve seen him on television plenty of times.’

‘I know.’ Laura gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘But it’s different meeting someone, isn’t it?’

‘I’m not a fan,’ declared Caryn flatly, and her friend’s freckled face coloured unbecomingly.

‘I know that,’ she murmured uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t mean to suggest you were.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Laura.’ Caryn felt contrite. ‘Take no notice of me. I’m an ungrateful creature. And after all you’ve done for me …’ She made an effort to be objective. ‘He—well, he’s taller than you might imagine, and he’s certainly—well, sexy, I suppose.’

‘You could understand why Loren was so infatuated with him, then?’ asked Laura quietly.

‘Oh, yes.’ Caryn had to be honest, although it went against the grain to find excuses for him. ‘I should think she found him fascinating. Any—any impressionable woman would.’

‘But not you?’ suggested Laura dryly.

‘Me!’ Caryn looked affronted. ‘You must be joking!’

‘Why? That’s quite a solution to your problems, have you thought of that?’

‘What do you mean?’

Laura looked uncomfortable now. ‘Well, I—I just meant—him being the baby’s father, and you its aunt—perhaps you might—’

‘Get together, you mean?’ Caryn was horrified.

Laura’s colour came and went, but she stuck to her guns. ‘Well, why not? I mean, we all know—that is, you know Loren was prone to—exaggeration—’

‘Laura, what are you saying?’ Caryn stared at her. ‘Don’t you believe Tristan Ross is his —’ she indicated the pram, ‘——his father?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Laura was quick to protest. ‘I do, I do. Only—well, maybe it wasn’t as—maybe she—wanted it, too.’

Caryn heaved a heavy sigh. ‘I see.’ She moved her shoulders wearily. ‘Okay, I’ll accept that perhaps Loren did—encourage him.’ She lifted her head. ‘What girl wouldn’t, for heaven’s sake?’

‘You said you wouldn’t,’ Laura reminded her, and Caryn looked down into her teacup.

‘I know I did. And I meant it. But anyway, that still doesn’t change things. I think he sacked her when he suspected she was pregnant. Nothing can alter that. And when she wrote and told him, he ignored her letters.’

Laura nodded slowly. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ Then she looked at her friend. ‘I just can’t help thinking that you’re going to regret this.’

‘What?’

‘Giving—him away. Caryn, he is your nephew!’

‘He’s Tristan Ross’s son. He can do a lot more for him than I can.’

‘I can’t argue with that.’ Laura straightened her spine, wincing at her aching back. ‘I just wish that was our baby lying in the pram there. Without all the effort of having him.’

Caryn grinned, relaxing a little. ‘You don’t mean that. You’re loving every minute of it. I’ve never seen Bob so attentive.’

Laura smiled too. ‘No,’ she agreed happily. ‘He has been marvellous, hasn’t he? Do you know he went out the other night at half past eleven to get me some fish and chips?’

‘Fish and chips! At half past eleven!’ Caryn grimaced. ‘Oh, Laura, how could you?’

Laura giggled. ‘I don’t know. I was ravenous, that’s all. I had to eat fruit and crackers all the following day before I dared go to the clinic. I have to watch my blood pressure, you see.’

‘And having junior over there isn’t helping things, is it?’ remarked Caryn dryly. ‘Let’s hope his— daddy comes for him soon.’

Laura looked at her anxiously. ‘Let’s hope so,’ she sighed, but she didn’t sound convincing.

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