Expecting Miracle Twins (7 page)

When the painting was finished, she stood back, cuddling Brutus, and she examined the picture of Molly, the good little witch, silhouetted at her bedroom window, looking impossibly small and lonely.

Mattie was surprised by how poignant the picture seemed, and she smiled, satisfied with the effect. She really liked Molly’s vulnerability and she knew her young readers would enjoy the secret knowledge that this skinny little girl was really a good witch, with super-powers that could help all the needy people in the houses below.

She only hoped she could find a similar strength in herself.

Jake sat in the mess hall at the mine site, lost in thought, wondering what Mattie was doing now. In his mind he could see her walking with Brutus along the path beside the bay, with the wind in her hair, her blue eyes sparkling.

He could see her working on a painting, her face serene yet completely focused. He could see her as she’d looked when she’d lain in bed beside him and he could remember the taste of her, the smell of her skin, the silky softness of her hair when he wound it around his fingers.

He could hear her musical voice, see the silver sparkle of her tears…

‘Hey, Jake. There you are!’

Will Carruthers came through the doorway and helped himself to coffee, which he still preferred, even though most of the men drank the locally brewed Mongolian tea.
Will brought his mug to Jake’s table and grinned at him. ‘Good to see you, mate. How was your leave?’

‘Not bad.’ Jake was valiantly trying to shut down thoughts of Mattie.

Will’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do I detect a distinct lack of enthusiasm?’

‘Sorry. I was miles away.’

‘Dreaming about the hordes of beautiful women you left behind?’ Will grinned again, but when Jake made no response he tried a different tack. ‘Was everything in order at the flat?’

‘Yes, absolutely.’ Finally, Jake remembered his manners. ‘Honestly, Will, thanks for letting me use your flat. It was fantastic. Terrific decor. Fabulous location. Oh, and I brought you a gift from the Duty Free. I’ll drop it over to your
ger
tonight.’

Will grinned. ‘Sounds like it’s a bottle of my favourite refreshment.’

‘More like three bottles,’ Jake said, then he stared into the depths of his tea mug. He couldn’t help it—he had to drag Mattie into the conversation. ‘I suppose you know there was someone else staying at the flat.’

‘Really? Who was it?’

‘Mattie Carey.’

Will’s eyes almost popped out of his head. ‘Mattie was there at the same time as you?’

‘She arrived a couple of days after me.’

‘But I thought she wasn’t due in Sydney until the fifth. Weren’t you supposed to be gone by then? You said you were heading off to Japan to go skiing.’

Jake shook his head. ‘Other way around. I went skiing first, and then I went to Sydney.’

‘Oops.’ Will smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I got that mixed
up.’ He shot his friend a shrewd sideways glance. ‘So how did it work out? Did you get on OK with Mattie?’

Jake was pleased that he managed to sound offhand. ‘She was fine. She’s an easy person to get along with.’

‘Yeah, she would be.’ Will chuckled. ‘Good old Saint Matilda.’

Jake’s flippancy vanished. ‘Is that what you call her?’

‘I meant it in the nicest possible way.’ Will, watching Jake closely, back-pedalled fast. ‘We all love Mattie. She’s my sister’s best friend, has been since forever. I think Gina and Mattie met in kindergarten.’

In the awkward silence that followed, Will sent Jake another sideways glance. ‘I don’t suppose Mattie mentioned why she’s moved to Sydney?’

Jake shrugged. ‘Not really. I thought she just wanted to work on her book.’ He noticed the cautious tension in Will’s face. ‘Why do you ask? Was there another reason?’

Will shook his head, took a deep swig of coffee. When he lowered the mug, his face was as blank as a poker player’s.

‘So why did you ask if I knew anything?’ Jake persisted.

‘I was simply making conversation, man.’

Jake didn’t believe him. He knew there was a chance that his perspective was skewed, but he was convinced now that Will knew something else about Mattie. A problem.

What could it be? Why else had she come to Sydney, other than to work on her book? Then again, why would she need to come to Sydney just to work on a children’s story?

He thought back to when she’d first arrived. She’d said she had appointments.

A cold chill skittered down his spine. ‘Mattie’s not in Sydney to see doctors, is she? She’s not ill?’

‘No, mate. Keep your shirt on.’ Will rolled his eyes, as if he was clearly convinced that his best mate had lost the plot. ‘Mattie Carey is as healthy as a horse.’

‘Then what did you mean? Why did you ask if I knew why she’d come to Sydney?’

‘I’ve already forgotten. Chill, Jake. Forget I asked.’ Will looked annoyed and he stood and snatched up his cup. ‘The deal with the flat is nothing more than a friendly agreement. Mattie’s renting it for twelve months and I’m very happy to have such a reliable tenant.’

Five days before the embryo transfer, Mattie began to receive progesterone injections. Trips to the clinic became part of her daily routine, along with working on her paintings and walking Brutus. She also borrowed several books about pregnancy from the library and began to conscientiously prepare super-healthy meals.

She bought a terracotta pot of parsley to grow on the balcony, so she had a ready source of iron. She wanted to do everything just right, even though she never thought of this baby as hers.

The embryo had already been created in a test tube from Gina and Tom’s genetic material and Mattie saw herself as simply a glorified babysitter. Or perhaps a very fond aunt.

Whenever she felt slightly overawed by the task ahead, she focused on the fabulous and exciting moment in nine months’ time when she handed a sweet little baby to her best friends.

It was a relief that things were finally happening and, as the date for the embryo transfer drew closer, Gina kept in e-mail contact almost every day. Neither she nor Mattie
talked too much about the imminent pregnancy. Instead, they were just happy to keep in touch and to chat about Willowbank gossip, farming news, Mattie’s progress on her new book…

Mattie quickly put a stop to any discussion about Jake and so far she hadn’t replied to the e-mail he’d sent telling her about his journey and his first week settling back into life on the mine site.

Her reaction to it had been pure confusion. She was trying to ‘get over’ him and yet she’d been disappointed that he hadn’t written straight away. Then she’d been disappointed by the matter-of-fact tone of his e-mail.

She wished she’d never suggested that they write. It would have been so much cleaner if they’d simply parted at the airport.

Whenever she thought about replying, she was frozen by uncertainty. She kept hearing those fateful words.

You do know that I can’t promise you a future together, don’t you?

She read the e-mail again and again, trying to search for hidden meanings. How crazy. Was she going to go through months of worrying about Jake the way she had with Pete? She couldn’t face that again.

If she did decide to reply, it was hard to know what to say. She had to ask herself if it was right to behave as if her life was ticking along as usual, when the surrogacy was about to begin? She hated deceit of any kind.

However, there was a final reason she hadn’t written to Jake, one she hardly dared to contemplate, that caught her out at unexpected moments, especially in the middle of the night.

As she lay in the dark, she found herself wondering if her intense feelings for him could pose a threat to the surrogacy. It was foolish to think this way when she knew they had no real future, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never dreamed that the psychologist could be right and that she could meet someone like Jake before the baby was born.

And yet, here she was, wishing at times that she could keep her body for him.

But, in reality, if she was to have a man in her life at this point in time, she needed someone who would be there for her, no matter what—not a gorgeous, dangerous playboy.

She needed a man who was prepared to share her with the baby she carried, someone prepared to wait. Unfortunately, Jake Devlin couldn’t tick a single box in her list of vital requirements and so she’d better just get over him, for her own sake.

Jake stared glumly at his computer screen. He’d downloaded his e-mails and again there was nothing from Mattie.

He looked at the back of the card, where she’d neatly printed her e-mail address, and for the hundredth time he remembered their farewell and her tears, and the passion in her last kiss. He could have sworn that she’d planned to write to him and he’d anticipated a constant stream of messages filled with typical Mattie-style warmth.

What did this silence mean?

What had changed?

His conversation with Will on his return kept haunting him. He kept hearing Will’s harrowing question:
I don’t suppose Mattie mentioned why she’s moved to Sydney?

Jake had quizzed his friend about it again, but Will always shrugged it off, claiming that Jake had misinterpreted a casual enquiry.

‘What’s got into you, mate?’ Will had growled. ‘Do you realise you grill me about Mattie Carey every time we meet? You need another holiday. You’re way too tense.’

Perhaps Will was right. Jake knew he’d never been like this before. It was beyond crazy to be so uptight over a woman. He was usually trying to shake them off.

Ironically, as soon as he stopped expecting to hear from Mattie, an e-mail from her arrived in his in-box.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Hi Jake,

Greetings from sunny Sydney to deepest Mongolia.

I wanted to let you know that I brought Roy over here for morning tea today. We didn’t make billy tea, but we had damper and lamingtons and I sent him home with a big bouquet of gum leaves and a vase so he can keep them in his room. As you can imagine, he was as happy as a possum in a hollow log.

Oh, and I found a book in a second-hand shop about old drovers and stockmen. It’s full of photographs of the Outback and Roy loved it. He said to tell you he’s well. Actually, he said he was fighting fit, but I think that’s an exaggeration. And he sends his love.

I don’t have much other news. I’m slowly knocking over the illustrations for the book and I’m afraid the coffee table never gets used as a coffee table any more.

I hope that French Canadian cook is feeding you well.
Are you still helping him out in the kitchen? Perhaps you should show him our recipe for pasta sauce?

Love from Brutus and Pavarotti,

Mattie xx

Jake was so relieved to hear from her that he swallowed his pride and wrote back straight away, but he kept the content deliberately light, just as she had. He told her about the party they’d had in the canteen for one of the team’s birthday. And how they’d tried to play Scrabble last night in three different languages—English, French and Russian. He thanked her for taking care of Roy. He didn’t mention a word about missing her.

Mattie replied the very next day and when he read her message he grinned. It was a single question:

What does the R in your name stand for? Robert? Roy? Rudolph? Rambo?

He wrote back that his middle name was Richard, named after his grandfather. And he asked about her middle name.

Mattie replied:

Middle name, Francesca, after my grandmother. Aren’t we predictable?

After that, they exchanged e-mails almost every day. They kept their messages short, light and amusing, never hinting at anything like deeper emotions, and Jake was happy.

Mattie was pleased, too. After much deliberation, she’d decided finally to reply to Jake’s e-mail. After all,
maybe they could remain friends, just keep in touch? She wouldn’t expect anything more.

It was best this way, Mattie decided, best that neither of them referred to that blissful night they’d spent in each other’s arms again.

It made it easier for her to avoid telling Jake the truth.

Problem was, she still felt horribly guilty about that. And she was left with a helpless longing she didn’t how to handle.

M
ATTIE
was grinning as she dialled Gina’s number.

‘Guess what, girlfriend? It worked.’

‘You mean—’

‘I mean the tests came back positive.’

‘Oh, my God! You mean we’re pregnant?’

‘Yep. We’re pregnant. Very pregnant.’

Gina screamed in Mattie’s ear. Then she began to gabble. ‘I can’t believe it’s actually happening. Oh, God, you’re so clever, Mattie. I’m crying. I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘I’m excited too. I’m so glad it’s really on the way. There’s going to be a baby.’

‘How do you feel?’

‘OK. Relieved. I’ve been fairly sure for the last few days, but the doctor didn’t want me to say anything to you until he was certain.’

‘So do you have symptoms? Can you tell me all about it?’

Patiently, Mattie told her best friend everything, how her breasts had become increasingly tender and she’d been feeling dreadfully tired. At first she’d been worried she was coming down with something, but then she’d started losing her breakfast and she
knew
.

‘Oh, Mattie, I still can’t take it in. I’m just so excited, but you poor thing. Is it too awful?’

‘It’s only yuck for about an hour a day. Most of the time, I feel pretty good. And I have the perfect excuse to take a daytime nap. The really good news is, the doctor’s very happy. He said the hormone levels are really strong. Like
really
strong.’

‘I see.’ Gina’s voice grew cautious. ‘That sounds like it means something.’

‘Well, yes. It’s nothing to panic about…but…um…there might be more than one baby.’

Gina screamed again. ‘Oh, my gosh—
two
! Do you mind if I hang up? I’ve got to go and find Tom.’

Mattie laughed. ‘Off you go. Give Tom my love.’

When she hung up the phone, she sank onto the sofa. Brutus jumped up beside her and she let him snuggle close.

‘Two babies, Brutus,’ she whispered. ‘I’m going to end up the size of a house.’

With her hand resting on her still flat tummy, she tried to imagine it filled with two lively full-term babies. Twins were a risk, the doctor had warned her when he’d transferred two embryos, but at the time she’d been happy to take the chance. One way or another, she’d wanted Gina and Tom to have a family.

But yikes. How would her figure ever recover? She couldn’t help wondering what Jake would think if he saw her, swollen and huge, but then she quickly dismissed that question.

Jake had only entered her life for a few short days and this was something that had been decided months ago. It was a private matter between herself and her oldest and dearest friends. Jake had no part in this.

If only that realisation didn’t make her feel so desperately lonely and sad.

I’m being selfish
…

She tried to remind herself that she’d been perfectly happy before she’d met Jake. And now her focus had to be positive. She had to concentrate on the wonderful gift she was carrying.

It was an amazing privilege to be able to do this for Gina and Tom. They were going to be fabulous parents and she was going to help them have the perfect little family they so thoroughly deserved.

Gina and Tom’s babies would have a happy and idyllic childhood on the farm, going to school in Willowbank, making friends with the local children.

A new generation.

Mattie had such happy memories of her own schooldays with Gina and Tom and Will and Lucy. It was too long since the old ‘gang’ had been together. Perhaps there would be a gathering for the babies’ christening?

What fun!

And what about Jake
?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he could fit into that picture?

As always, when Mattie thought about Jake, she felt a painful jolt in the centre of her chest. There’d been no recent e-mails because he was away in the wilds of Mongolia on some kind of expedition, and she was shocked by how much she missed him. But she knew it was foolish to feel so attached when he’d told her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t fit into her future. She’d spent a couple of days with him and now they exchanged brief, chatty e-mails—it had been impossible to cut Jake off altogether. But it was barely the beginnings of a relationship.

Even so, she found it ridiculously easy to imagine Jake being absorbed into her circle of friends. He was already good friends with Will. And Mattie knew he would like her other friends and they would like him. She could picture them all sitting around a dinner table—at Gina and Tom’s perhaps.

In her imagination, she could picture it all—driving down to Willow Creek Farm with Jake, bringing wine and cheese from her favourite boutique deli, and arriving via the winding road that led through a grove of pines to Gina and Tom’s farmhouse.

They would be welcomed by Tom, wearing the black and white apron he always donned when he was helping in the kitchen. Jake, with his handsome looks and flashing dark eyes, would be a huge hit with the girls and the men would like his laid-back humour. Around the table, they would share stories and lots of laughter along with scrumptious food.

Yes, Jake would fit in very well. How perfect it could be.

But it’s impossible and I’m a fool to even think of it.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Hey there, Mattie.

I’m back at last after spending three weeks out in the wild wastes of Mongolia on a prospecting expedition. Won’t bore you with details, but it’s very acceptable to be back in a properly built ger with a comfortable bed and a fire at night.

Hope all’s well. Would you believe I miss you and Brutus and Pavarotti and your drawings of Molly?

How are you? A man needs details. How are you spending your days? What colour is your hair now? What movies have you seen?

More importantly, what colour are you wearing under your T-shirt?

Keep smiling,

Jake xx

Mattie read this and burst into tears.

She’d had a shocker of a day. A headache had started mid-morning and, because she was pregnant and couldn’t take tablets, there was nothing she could do but lie down with a cool cloth on her forehead. She’d sprinkled the cloth with drops of lavender oil, but now she was sick of the smell of lavender and her headache hadn’t budged.

Her waist was expanding exponentially. She felt fat and ugly and tired and miserable…and Jake was fantasising about her in sexy underwear. It was too much!

She let out a moan of pure self-pity and Brutus whimpered and looked up at her with eyes filled with concern.

‘Oh, Brutus,’ she sobbed, scooping him up for a cuddle. ‘What am I going to do about Jake?’

She knew for absolute certain now that she was carrying twins. She’d seen the ultrasound images and there they were—two little heads, two sets of arms and legs, swimming in their own little sacs. So cute! But already she’d had to buy maternity jeans and her breasts were so heavy now she’d had to buy maternity bras—horrid, hefty harnesses, only available in white, black or beige that made her feel like an ageing matron.

Meanwhile, Jake thought he was writing to a slim young woman who wore sexy lace and satin lingerie in a range of rainbow colours, a woman who had no commitments other than her writing deadlines.

She was a fraud, an impostor, a cheat!

With a helpless sigh, she set Brutus down and began to pace the floor, the little dog at her heels. What should she do? Should she reply? How
could
she reply honestly?

Oh, help. She couldn’t keep stringing Jake along like this. But should she simply drop the communication and let him assume that she’d lost interest?

She didn’t want to let him go.

I have to.

Tears fell again and she snatched up tissues and mopped her face. If only she didn’t have this headache, she could think more clearly. She went through to the kitchen and made a cup of camomile tea, which she took through to the lounge room. Curled on the sofa, she sipped the herbal brew and tried to think calmly.

OK. First, she was pregnant but she couldn’t tell Jake what was happening to her.

Why?

It’s a private matter and, anyway, he’s not serious about me. He’s already warned me there’s no chance of forever.

But couldn’t he change his mind? He seemed really keen when he was in Sydney.

Even if he was keen, the pregnancy would douse his passion in a heartbeat. He’s a playboy. A woman pregnant with someone else’s babies would send him running for the hills.

Too true. Mattie had enough emotional issues just coping with the surrogacy, without letting Jake mess with her head. He would never understand why she was doing this.

Bottom line, she didn’t want to be helplessly and miserably in love again. She didn’t want to feel vulnerable and endlessly anxious, the way she had with Pete.

After all, how could she expect to share this surrogacy
with a guy who’d openly claimed he had an allergy to commitment?

Heavens, why did she even hesitate when she had so many clear answers? Any way she looked at this, she only had one sensible option.

She should stop writing to Jake…let him go…

It was the only decent thing to do. And, given how easily he’d parted from his previous girlfriend, he probably wouldn’t be upset.

No doubt thousands of e-mail exchanges ended when one person fell silent.

No doubt the world was filled with thousands of broken hearts.

Jake switched off his computer, poured himself a measure of vodka and downed it in one fiery gulp. He poured another and downed it too, went to the small window and stared out at the other
gers
scattered over the barren ground. He saw lights burning in most of the tents but he wasn’t in the mood for company.

That in itself wasn’t surprising. He’d always been a loner, a self-sufficient outsider, who’d learned as a child to get along without company. But there was a difference between being alone and being lonely.

Tonight, as he looked out into the desert night, he could feel the almost forgotten loneliness of his childhood creeping back, sneaking beneath his defences. He was remembering again the long lonesome months after his mother’s breakdown, when she wouldn’t—couldn’t speak to him.

He flinched at the memory, working hard to dismiss the pain of her bewildering rejection. He’d adored his mother
but he’d learned even then, at the age of nine, that he could drown beneath the weight of such love.

More than one girlfriend had accused him of emotional bankruptcy, and he knew he’d deserved the accusation, but he’d learned the hard way to keep his heart safely under lock and key.

This was precisely why he’d told Mattie that he couldn’t offer any promises for the future.

So it didn’t make any kind of sense that his old anxieties were staging a comeback now, simply because he hadn’t heard from her in over a month.

He’d sent her three more e-mails and she hadn’t replied. He couldn’t believe how much he needed to hear from her, needed to know she was OK.

Will Carruthers could shed no light on her silence and in the end Jake knew there was only one thing to do. He had to ring the Sydney flat, had to hear her voice, to know at least that she wasn’t ill.

As he dialled through the international codes, then added the flat’s telephone number, he was ridiculously nervous—so damn nervous he was sweating. His hands were clammy and he felt sick, like a teenager trying to pluck up the courage to ask a girl on a first date.

When Mattie answered the phone his throat was dry and his voice as rough as gravel. ‘Hello, Mattie.’

‘Is that Jake?’

‘Yes. How are you?’

‘Are you still in Mongolia?’

She sounded shocked and scared. Why did she sound so unhappy?

‘Yes, I’m still here.’ What could he say now? The light banter of e-mails became downright stupid when said out
loud. ‘I haven’t heard from you for a while, so I thought I’d check in. How are you? Everything OK?’

‘Yes, fine.’ Her voice sounded anything but fine. ‘I…I’ve been really busy.’

Jake gritted his teeth. How the hell had he thought this call was a good idea?

What now? On the basis of one night of passion, he could hardly demand an explanation for Mattie’s silence.

‘How are you?’ he asked again and he sounded way too tense. ‘Are you well?’

‘I’m really well, Jake.’

‘You sound a bit…’ He paused, searching for the right word.

‘I’m a bit tired, that’s all. I…I’ve taken on some extra work and it…it’s keeping me really busy.’

‘So are you enjoying this work? Is it creative?’

He thought he heard a definite sigh.

‘Yes, Jake, it’s highly creative.’

This time, there was no mistaking her tone. It was most definitely let’s-drop-this-subject.

Jake wished he could see her. If he could look into her eyes, he might be able to see what she wasn’t telling him. He would know whether she was happy.

‘I’ve been in touch with Roy,’ she said. ‘I…I haven’t had time to visit him lately, but I ring him every week. He’s keeping well.’

‘That’s good to hear. Thanks for keeping an eye on him.’

‘How’s Will?’ she asked carefully.

‘Oh, he’s fighting fit. Actually, he’s on leave at the moment in California. He should be having a great time.’

‘Sounds like fun. Are you going somewhere like that for your next leave?’

Jake’s stomach hit the floor. This was a brush-off with no holds barred. Mattie was letting him know that she clearly didn’t expect to see him.

OK, so maybe he had dropped a strong warning when he’d farewelled her at the airport, but he felt differently now. He’d missed her. Maybe he’d even changed. He certainly wasn’t going to give in easily.

Swallowing his pride, he said, ‘I was wondering what would happen if I turned up on your doorstep.’

This was met by silence.

Jake held his breath, couldn’t believe how bad he felt.