Margaret McDonagh - Brought Together by Baby

He hadn’t wanted to talk with Julia, but that had been as nothing compared to his reluctance at the thought of seeing Holly—of not only dealing with what he had done, but confronting her about her rejection and the various things she had kept from him. A fresh wave of nausea had assailed him.

Illness had kept him in bed and away from work for another twenty-four hours. Had he known in advance how terrible his return to A&E and the scene with Holly were going to be, he might have stayed in bed for ever.

He’d certainly had no idea how horribly that wretched night would come back to haunt him, destroying his relationship with Holly and resulting in the announcement that Julia was expecting his child. An announcement that had led him into an unwanted, loveless marriage with only months to prepare for his unexpected role as a father.

It had terrified him

It still did, he acknowledged, reality slamming him back to the present. For now he had to push all the pain and emotion of the past from his mind and focus on the baby. His baby—for whom he had sacrificed himself and endured months of unhappiness.

With Julia.

Without Holly.

He listened as Shaun Haggerty responded to Holly’s suggestion about the baby’s prematurity. ‘We will, of course, continue to observe him closely.’

‘You said there was another problem?’ Gus prompted, grateful they were moving on from the awkward issue of conception.

‘Yes.’ The consultant opened a file, glancing at something before looking up again, apology in his eyes. ‘I don’t like to press you on such things at this distressing time, but my concern is your son’s health. So I need to ask … Was your wife drinking during her pregnancy?’

Gus sat back in shock, totally unprepared for the question. ‘No! Absolutely not,’ he refuted, a sick feeling in his stomach.

There was much about Julia he didn’t know. There had been times when her mercurial temper and unpredictable mood swings had made life especially difficult. But surely he would have noticed something so far amiss?

‘There’s no alcohol in the house. I don’t drink, and I never saw Julia drink after she knew she was expecting a child,’ he continued, feeling the gentle squeeze of Holly’s fingers. ‘She found pregnancy difficult—she was quite ill. And she gave up smoking, too. She knew her health was important for the baby.’

Or so he’d thought.

Mr Haggerty nodded and wrote a note in the file, but his frown remained. ‘I had to ask, Gus, I’m sorry. There was an almost empty bottle of gin in the car, and tests have revealed that Julia was more than three times over the drink-drive limit. We need to know if this was a one-off aberration or something that might have a longer-term effect on your baby. There’s no evidence of foetal alcohol syndrome, but we’re running tests to be on the safe side.’

Gus swore under his breath. He was stunned. And angry. Julia had relied on him to take her wherever she’d wanted to go, claiming she didn’t drive, so he had no idea why and how she’d taken his car—or where she’d been. The news that she’d been irresponsible enough to drink excessively before getting behind the wheel astounded and infuriated him. It was bad enough that she’d brought about her own injuries, but to risk the life of others, including her unborn child, was unforgivable.

He met Holly’s gaze and saw the dismay and concern in her sky-blue eyes. They both knew what long-term alcohol consumption could do to a growing baby, and he hoped with all his heart that Julia’s rash behaviour that day was the aberration the consultant suggested and nothing worse. His son had enough to battle against without inherited alcohol problems on top.

Whatever else had occurred between them, and however hard things had been in recent months, he knew he’d been diligent in his care of both Julia and the baby. But he hadn’t been there twenty-four hours a day. Nor had he been Julia’s keeper. He’d trusted her to keep her side of the bargain … that she’d do all she could to protect herself and their unborn child. Now that trust had been broken in the worst possible way.

‘I want to see my son,’ he announced gruffly, releasing Holly’s hand and rising impatiently to his feet.

‘Of course. And you will … very soon,’ the consultant placated him, gesturing back to the chair. ‘If you can bear with me a little longer, Gus? I know this isn’t easy for you, or for Holly, but I have to ask you about Julia.’

Unsettled, and overwhelmed by the myriad emotions fighting inside him, Gus reluctantly sat down again, feeling bereft without the comfort of Holly’s hand in his. He was alarmed that he’d felt the once-familiar kick in the gut and tingle down the spine when he’d looked at her. He felt guilty for his response to Holly, and even guiltier for begrudging Mr Haggerty the time he wanted to spend talking about Julia. On a human level he felt deep shock and sadness for her, but the only thing driving him on was a desperation to see his son.

He met Holly’s gaze, unable to read her thoughts. She was clearly deeply affected by events—her support had been genuine—but he was less able to gauge her feelings about her older sister. They’d not been close. He smothered a humourless laugh at the understatement. He understood little of the complex situation between the two women—a situation he’d been unwittingly drawn into.

Not that he was in any position to judge the level of Holly’s grief for Julia. He felt the pressing weight of guilt and shame as he forced himself to admit the truth. That whilst he would never have wished this tragedy on Julia, the primary rush of emotion he’d experienced was not grief, as everyone assumed, but relief.

Relief at being freed from the loveless, lonely marriage they’d endured these last months … months when they’d played their roles well enough to convince those around them that their relationship was real.

Holly had no idea what Gus was thinking, but when she felt the full force of his smoky green gaze on her she was unable to prevent a quiver of reaction. Her hand still tingled from his touch. She’d been unable to resist the urge to reach out to him, driven by the emotion in his voice when he’d learned about his son. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she recalled the way he’d responded, taking her hand, linking their fingers and holding on tight, creating a shared bond between them … one that had seemed so natural months ago but which now left her confused and puzzled.

Gus looked away, releasing her from his magnetic hold. A ragged breath whispered from her. Without the comfort of holding his hand she felt bereft and alone. The shock of all that had happened was taking its toll, and the tension between Gus and herself made everything more difficult. She was still angry at the way he’d so publicly rejected her and made her the centre of gossip. The pain and betrayal at the knowledge of Julia’s pregnancy had never lessened. Now the baby was here, having survived a traumatic birth, and she was swamped by a rush of conflicting emotions.

After months of attempting to put distance between them, the last thing she wanted was to spend time with Gus again, and yet her first instinct on learning of the tragedy had been to run to him. Clasping her shaking hands together, Holly glanced at Gus. They’d been united by events and a shared concern for the baby, and somehow she had to find a way of putting her jumbled feelings about Gus aside.

Gus remained silent and remote, so Holly forced herself to ask the question that was hanging in the air. ‘Wh-What about Julia?’

Mr Haggerty sighed and shook his head. ‘There’s no hope for her, I’m afraid. As I explained, her injuries were so severe that, had it not been for signs of life from the baby, she would have been declared dead at the scene of the accident. In order to save the baby and maintain his oxygen and blood-flow, she was placed on life support. We’d like your permission to turn that off. But first there’s the delicate issue of asking you to consider the possibility of organ donation. I appreciate how difficult it is, but you know time is critical. My advice, for what it’s worth, is to look to the future … to the miracle of this baby,’ the older man finished with sympathy.