The Baby of Their Dreams (Contemporary Medical Romance) (5 page)

They said nothing but their kisses were deep and tender but whatever they were finding was invaded, whatever the moment had meant it was gone.

‘Ayuda!’

No, Cat didn’t know Spanish, but a cry for help she was familiar with and she swung around.

‘Necesito ayuda...’

Dominic was already swimming over to an elderly man who was waving his arms. Beside him on a pedalo there was a woman who was sitting up but even from here Cat could see she was in trouble. She was clutching her chest and leaning forward.

Others were coming over to assist and Dominic was calling out to a woman standing on the beach to call for an ambulance.

He called for Cat to go to shore. ‘In my backpack!’ he shouted. ‘There’s a pack...’

At least someone was organised today.

Cat raced up the beach as a group of men steered the pedalo in and then carried the woman to the shore.

She was still sitting up, Cat noted as she shook the contents of his backpack out.

There it was, a small pack, but as she went to stuff the contents she had tipped out back inside, her hand closed on a small bump in his wallet.

A circular bump.

She shook her head and ran back towards the gathered crowd.

‘Thanks...’

She opened the pack. There were gloves, a mouthguard and airway... There was even a small kit for IV access and she watched his very steady hands slip a needle in, all the while reassuring the woman, who was clammy and sweaty, that she would be okay.

It should feel very different to be out in the middle of nowhere rather than in the calm efficiency of the emergency department, yet he had everything under control—a few beachgoers were holding their towels to shade the woman from the fierce afternoon sun and Dominic wiped her face with a cloth soaked in bottled water and spoke calming words in Spanish.

Cat noticed he was holding the woman’s wrist as he spoke, keeping a constant watch on her pulse. As she glanced down at Dominic’s hand Cat wondered if she had been blind or simply not looked, because now she could see the slight pinkness of a ring mark on his suntanned skin.

She felt a bit sick.

In the distance she could hear sirens and, even if the worst happened now and the lady went into cardiac arrest, assistance and equipment were just a few moments away.

The paramedics were just as efficient as they were back home and rather more used to retrieving heavy patients from a sun-drenched sandy beach than they would be in London.

They spoke at length with Dominic as they did the ECG tracing and administered analgesia and generally made the woman more comfortable before transferring her onto the stretcher.

The men all carried the stretcher up the beach until they let the legs down on the stony ground.

Her heart was racing, not from the mild drama but from what she had thought she had felt.

A wedding ring?

Surely not, Cat thought.

But why not? another voice in her head asked.

Why the hell not?

‘Let’s grab our things and head back,’ Dominic said, and she nodded and tried not to shrug him off as his arm went around her waist.

She didn’t know what to say to him. She just didn’t know how to speak.

‘You’ve caught the sun,’ he commented as they drove back to the hotel.

‘I know,’ she said. Her shoulders were stinging but not as much as her thoughts.

‘Are you okay?’ Dominic checked.

‘Of course.’ She cleared her throat. ‘It was just a bit upsetting.’

‘What?’ He glanced over. ‘She had chest pain.’

Oh, that’s right.
Cat remembered the man she had disliked before she had completely fallen under his spell. He was arrogant, dismissive and rather mean.

‘It’s different without all the equipment...’

He didn’t comment. Chest pain was such a routine part of his day and he’d assumed it was the same for her.

‘She’ll be fine,’ he said, but she couldn’t answer.

They were back in the elevators and she went to push the button for her floor but his hand stopped her and he pushed his.

Arrogant bastard, Cat thought this time.

Still, she wanted to be sure so she went with him to his hotel room and, completely at ease, he dropped his clothes and headed for the shower.

She didn’t join him.

He washed off the sand and was glad that she hadn’t come in. He needed to think.

Was he going to ask again that she stay awhile longer?

And if she couldn’t, was he going to ask to see her again?

‘What time is your flight?’ he called from the shower.

‘Seven,’ she answered, and then she did something most uncharacteristic for her. She wasn’t a nosy person yet she was about this.

She went into his bag and pulled out his wallet and opened it, and she didn’t need to dig for the ring to find her answer. She pulled out a photo instead.

Cat knew her fashion and, yep, this was pretty recent.

Dominic made a lovely groom.

He also made a very dark lover because she jumped when she heard his voice.

‘I wish you hadn’t done that, Cat.’

He stood with a towel around his waist, watching as she tucked the photo back in. In his mind he was conflicted.

Tell her.

No.

Because then the bubble burst and everything they had found this weekend dispersed.

Yes, he could explain.

He simply wasn’t ready to.

If he was going to tell her, then it would be in his own time.

And their time had run out.

He didn’t like a snoop.

‘Do you know what, Dominic?’ She looked up at him. The delicious scent of him, fresh from the shower, was reaching her now and she practically held her breath as she gave a grim smile. ‘I wish I hadn’t done that either.’

She tossed the wallet on the bed and walked past him.

And he held open the door and let her out.

CHAPTER FIVE

C
AT
ARRIVED
BACK
at Gatwick Airport and, of course, because she didn’t need it now, her suitcase was amongst the first to come out.

Instead of driving home, though, she found herself on a search of the shops and thankfully found Gemma’s dress.

They met in the canteen on Monday morning and Cat got back her photo while Gemma received the second version of the white dress.

‘Thank you so much for this.’ Gemma beamed as she peered into the bag. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I know I probably shouldn’t wear white for the christening...’

‘It’s not a wedding,’ Cat said. ‘You don’t have to worry about offending the bride.’

She looked at the dress as Gemma pulled out a corner and she felt her throat go tight. Hers, she knew, should have been thrown straight into the garbage but instead she’d thrown it into the back of her wardrobe.

No,
she wanted to say to Gemma,
I did not have sexual relations with that married man.

Oh, help.

She most certainly had.

‘So how was it?’ Gemma asked.

‘It was great,’ Cat said. ‘Very informative.’

‘About what?’

‘Well,’ Cat attempted, ‘about things.’

‘And how was your talk?’

‘It went really well,’ she said, but all she could really remember of it was the moment Dominic had walked into the room and how he had stood with his arms folded at the back.

‘And how was the museum?’

Cat frowned.

‘You said you were going to do some sightseeing and go to the museum, maybe get a bit of inspiration for your bedroom.’

As Cat’s cheeks burned pink, she wondered if her friend was a witch.

‘Well, did you?’

‘Did I what?’

‘Get inspiration for the bedroom?’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’

‘And no shopping for stuffed donkeys, I see.’

‘I was working, Gemma.’

‘Of course you were.’ Gemma smirked.

She knew, Cat was quite sure.

Had she examined things more carefully at the time, some flags might have been raised. Perhaps it should have been obvious, Cat thought, that he was married. Yet his reluctance to share personal information hadn’t been an issue at the time; instead, it had felt as if they were chasing the same thing—fun, pleasure, grabbing the moment and running with it.

It had started to feel different at Collserola, though.

Cat couldn’t properly explain it but there she had started to want more than just the weekend. There, watching the sunrise, there had been a shift and she had felt him pensive beside her and for a moment, just a moment, she had felt as if time might not have been running out for them.

And that night, her second without him, Cat did what she’d tried not to because it hurt too much—she recalled their kiss in the sea. For a while there she’d thought she’d be staying.

Not for ever.

Just that something had been starting.

Something far bigger than either had expected to find.

Yet, as guilty as she felt about the weekend, Cat didn’t feel used—after all, she had gone along with the anonymity that had been offered. She had enjoyed embracing her femininity, going out and doing things she never would have done had Dominic not been there.

And, even though she did her level best to forget him, their time together could not be undone and it was as if he had set off a little chain reaction, because colour started coming back into her life.

The following Sunday Cat wore another new dress to the twins’ christening, a burnt orange and red paisley wraparound dress, and her hair was worn down and curly.

Glynn had rung to apologise and explain that his mother had been taken ill and Cat had had a difficult time explaining to him that, no, she wasn’t not coming to see him because of what had happened. ‘I like it curly, Glynn,’ Cat said. ‘Of course I’ll be in again...’

Just not yet.

For now she enjoyed having those two extra hours a week not having her hair yanked and blown smooth.

She stood at the font, looking at Gemma’s dress as she and Nigel juggled the twins, and wondering who on earth she was to offer guidance as a godmother, while knowing if that day ever came, then she would.

Oh, she doubted she would ever marry but she did believe in the sanctity of it and to think about what had happened made a curl of shame inside her that meant it was something she wouldn’t be discussing with Gemma.

She loved Gemma and Nigel and their little family and she remembered Thomas’s christening and when they had been there for her.

Gemma must have been thinking of it too, because she gave her friend the nicest smile and later pulled her aside.

‘My parents are driving me crazy,’ Gemma said. ‘They want to know when we’re having the cake. I’m sure they want to go home.’

Cat smiled. Gemma’s parents loathed any change to their routine.

‘Are you okay, Cat?’

‘Of course.’

They told each other everything and she could have come up with some airy excuse, that today was hard because...

Only, she wouldn’t use Thomas as an excuse for not being able to meet her friend’s eyes.

‘What are you up to, Cat?’

‘I’m not up to anything.’

‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

For the first time since they’d been teenagers she lied properly to her friend.

‘Don’t be daft.’

And she got on with smiling and enjoying this very special day.

But over the next few weeks Cat threw herself into her work and studying for her exams, which were tough but no tougher than expected. It meant there was no time to catch up with Gemma.

And even when three weeks’ annual leave stretched ahead of her, she still avoided her friend.

Though she was starting to realise that she wouldn’t be able to avoid her for long.

Gemma texted.

Is everything okay?

Cat didn’t answer.

Gemma persisted.

Did we have an argument that I didn’t notice?

Finally Cat texted back.

Can I tell you when I’m ready?

Because she wasn’t just yet.

Of course.

No, she wasn’t quite ready, so she stripped walls and sanded back a mantelpiece and tried to face something she was avoiding.

When it proved too hard, she took herself to her favourite shop and spent a morning turning pages of wallpaper samples.

‘I think a silver grey,’ Cat said to Veronica, the owner, who was as obsessed with wallpaper as she was. ‘Perhaps with one wall in silver and the rest in a matt finish...’

Silver moonlight hues had appealed but as Veronica went to clear some space so they could put together samples she moved a book and suddenly it wasn’t those colours that Cat wanted.

‘I haven’t seen this,’ she said.

‘It’s only just in...’

‘Oh, my,’ Cat said. She could almost feel the pulse from the sample book as she turned the pages. It was like being walked blindfolded and then having it removed and finding herself standing in a spring park. Birds, butterflies and tree branches that stretched and flowers, endless flowers...

It reminded her of Collserola and that one magical morning and she certainly didn’t need such a constant reminder, except...

‘Would this be a feature wall?’ Cat checked, and then almost winced when the assistant pulled up some images on her computer screen.

Every wall was covered. In some of the images even the ceilings were papered. It was a sort of cross between a cheap Paris hotel and an enchanted wood.

‘This is so far removed from what I was planning,’ Cat said, and Veronica nodded.

‘You don’t want to know the price.’

‘I don’t,’ Cat said, and tried to get back to silver grey. ‘Have you got it in?’

‘I do, though it’s incredibly hard to get hold of. It was on a special order but the buyer couldn’t wait and went for something less...’

‘Less what?’ Cat asked. ‘Less migraine inducing, less...?’ She let out a breath. ‘Less sexy...?’

Yes, somehow it was sexy.

‘Just less,’ Veronica said.

It was sold to the guilty conscience that just wanted to revisit that gorgeous morning over and over again.

A time when the world had been absolutely beautiful.

Magical even.

The strange thing, Cat thought as she stepped back a full week later and surveyed her handiwork, the world still was.

Magical.

Instead of the muted tones for the bedroom she had chosen colour. And now, in autumn, she stood in the middle of summer and imagined this being her haven when winter came in.

Yes, that weekend had changed her in a way she was finally accepting.

‘Hey, Gemma.’ Cat called her friend, who had so patiently waited for the morose mood to pass by. ‘The bedroom’s finished.’

Gemma really was a brilliant friend. She came over within an hour, clutching a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and they did a walk through the house. Cat had a photo in each room of what it had looked like before she’d set to work and it was hard to believe now just how bad it had once been.

As she opened the bedroom door she watched her friend’s jaw drop in absolute amazement as she stepped in.

‘I want to live in your bedroom for ever,’ Gemma said.

‘Nigel might not be too pleased.’

‘He can come too,’ Gemma said. ‘Oh, my, it is beautiful. It’s just stunning. I can’t believe you’ve finished the house.’

‘I haven’t yet.’

‘Well, it looks pretty perfect to me. What do you still have left to do—the garden?’

‘No.’

Gemma followed Cat out of the master bedroom and down the hallway that no longer creaked when you walked, and she frowned as Cat opened up the guest bedroom.

It had a dark wooden bed that was dressed in white linen. There was a gorgeous bookcase next to the open fire. On the mantelpiece were beautiful ornaments. Every last piece had been chosen with care.

‘But it’s already perfect,’ Gemma said.

‘I’m going to make it into a nursery.

‘Will it sell better if you do?

‘No, I’ve decided against selling.’

‘So why are you making it into...?’ The penny was slowly dropping and a rather stunned Gemma halted and turned to her friend.

Yes, there was magic in nature.

‘You’re pregnant?’

* * *

There was a long stretch of silence.

Gemma was an obstetrician and she was used to women finding themselves rather unexpectedly pregnant.

It seemed today, though, that it was the doctor who was more surprised.

She was.

Cat had spent the past few weeks fighting the idea and then getting used to it. A private person, she revealed only when she was ready.

And tonight she was.

‘How long have you known?’ Gemma asked.

‘A couple of weeks after the twins were christened,’ Cat said. ‘I tried to put it out of my mind, what with my exams and everything. I decided to work out how I felt when I was on leave.’

‘And how do you feel?’ Gemma asked, struggling to put back on her obstetrician’s hat.

‘Well, I’m going to be terrified until I have the tests and get all the results back...’

‘The chances of it happening again are minimal,’ Gemma said.

‘I know they are.’

‘But you shan’t relax till they’re in.’ Gemma smiled gently and Cat nodded. ‘Apart from that, how do you feel?’

‘I still don’t know,’ Cat admitted. ‘I don’t know if I’m happy or worried or anything really.’

‘You know that I’m here for you, whatever you decide.’

‘I do and even if I haven’t been ready to speak about it till now, it’s helped a lot to know that.’

Gemma opened the champagne.

For herself.

She didn’t even bother with a glass!

‘What about Rick? How did he take it?’

‘It isn’t Rick’s.’

‘Then who—’

‘I don’t want to discuss that.’

‘Now, hold on a minute,’ Gemma said. ‘You’re not my patient yet—you’re my friend so we
are
going to discuss that. What happened in Spain?’

‘How do you know that it was in Spain?’

‘Because you’ve been different since then, and also you don’t top up your tan by sitting in a hotel room.’

‘Yes, it was then,’ Cat admitted. ‘I met someone but it was never going to be going anywhere. It was supposed to be a bit of fun, a weekend of no consequence...’ She gave a wry smile. ‘We were careful...’

‘You have no idea how many times I hear that a day,’ Gemma said.

‘We used condoms.’

‘Note the plural,’ Gemma said. ‘Was it a sex-fest, then?’

‘I guess.’

‘You dirty girl.’ Gemma grinned.

‘Okay, I can tell you what happened now.’ And so she told Gemma all about the hair appointment that hadn’t happened and the missing luggage. ‘I ended up wearing your dress for the presentation,’ Cat explained. ‘I felt like a fish out of water at first but then I started to enjoy myself. I felt a bit like my old self. Anyway, he made it very clear from the start that he was only interested in the weekend and nothing more...’ Cat thought about the moment when he had asked her to stay on for longer but she shoved that aside. It didn’t matter now. ‘At first I was going to tell him to get lost, he’s not my usual type at all, but then...’ She shrugged. ‘I decided that a weekend of no-strings fun was better than six months of starting out all hopeful and then slowly finding out that a relationship wasn’t working.’

‘And was it?’

‘For a while,’ Cat said.

‘So, what’s his name?’

‘Dominic,’ she replied.

‘And have you told him about the baby?’ Gemma asked.

‘He’s married.’ Cat made herself say it. They stood in the spare room that would soon be a nursery in silence. It was Cat who broke it. ‘I’m sorry, Gemma...’

‘You don’t have to say sorry to me,’ Gemma said. ‘After all, it wasn’t Nigel who you slept with.’

‘I know, but even so.’ There were tears in Cat’s eyes. She still couldn’t quite believe how careless she’d been. ‘I didn’t know that he was married right until the end—the bastard had taken off his ring and tucked it in his wallet. I probably didn’t ask enough questions,’ she admitted. ‘He seemed very direct to me. He didn’t seem the sort of person who would cheat, which says a lot about my gauge for guys...’