A Marriage Meant To Be

Callie thanked her for the information and set off for the phone. She could only imagine the feelings of guilt that were driving the poor woman to set up some sort of refuge, but directing Steph to somewhere that could fold before the end of her pregnancy might not be the best course.

Fifteen minutes later she had to admit that she was out of options and started to dial the number written on the bottom of the list in the receptionist’s neat script. The sight of the woman’s surname startled her for a moment and brought back one of her worst memories from the time she had been doing her rotation in Obs and Gyn.

‘Yeah?’ said a bored voice when the phone was answered, the sound barely audible over the racket going on in the background.

‘Is that The Place to Go?’ Callie asked, wondering if she’d misdialled.

‘Yeah,’ said the same bored voice.

‘Is Mrs Keeley there?’

‘Who? Oh, you mean Marian. Nah. She had to take Jess to ’ ospital. ’Er waters broke,’ she offered, with the first glimpse of real emotion in her voice.

‘Which hospital did they go to?’ Callie asked over a superstitious shiver when she heard the woman’s first name. What were the chances that there were two people called Marian Keeley who had each lost a pregnant teenage daughter? What were the chances that she would be the one who had provided the spark that had made Callie decide between specialising in Obs and Gyn and A and E?

‘She’s taken ’er to City. It’s where we all go when it’s time,’ said the laconic voice on the other end of the line. ‘Can I take a message? I dunno when she’ll be back, mind. Babies can take hours to be born sometimes. And it can hurt a lot, too,’ she added with an audible edge of fear to her voice.

‘That’s why they give you gas and air to breathe,’ Callie said matter-of-factly. ‘To take the pain away.’

‘You’ve got kids?’ she interrupted, almost eagerly.

‘No, but I’m a—’

‘Well, what would you know about it, then?’ the girl snapped, and Callie was left with the dial tone burring in her ear.

‘That went well,’ she muttered wryly as she replaced the receiver and made her way back towards the curtained cubicles.

‘Come with me, Callie,’ Steph said as soon as she caught sight of her. ‘They’re taking me up to the place where they do scans.’

Callie hadn’t done anything about finding herself accommodation for the night yet, but she couldn’t bring herself to rebuff the youngster, not when she was the closest thing she had to a friend.

She let Steph’s nervous chatter wash over her as she rationalised that she could always book into a hotel for one night, even if it meant she had to start looking for a job sooner rather than later. Also, if they were going up to the antenatal department for the ultrasound, it might be close enough to the labour ward for her to see if she could make contact with Marian Keeley.

‘Callie! Look!’ Steph exclaimed a little while later as she saw the indistinct image appear on the screen. All her fear and disappointment seemed to have been banished by that one shadowy impression with its tiny heart beating so valiantly. ‘It’s the baby! My baby!’ she whispered, with a mixture of fear and awe as the being growing inside her became real for the first time. ‘Look! It’s moving!’

It felt as if a giant vice was being tightened inexorably around Callie’s heart. She could remember all too clearly her own terrified joy when she’d seen her baby’s heart beating, and for the first time had allowed herself to hope that she and Con would finally have their miracle.

‘Would you like a picture to keep?’ the technician asked.

The intense look of longing that swept across the youngster’ s face was a far cry from the resigned defensiveness she’d worn as a shield when Callie had first met her. Her ‘Yes! Please,’ was every bit as fervent as Callie’s had been, and she had no doubt that it would be evidence of a precious memory, as her own early scans had been.

Then, she’d been amazed how different it had been to look at the scan of her own child rather than that of a patient. With professional distance between them, she’d been able to look at the images analytically; when it had been her own baby, she’d demanded, ‘Is the baby all right?’ every bit as anxiously as any other expectant mother.

‘Everything looks fine so far,’ the voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘No sign that your accident did any damage to the baby or to the placenta.’

‘So that means I can go?’ Steph said, although Callie thought she could detect a little less eagerness in the words than before. Perhaps the young girl was actually feeling the reassurance of having so much professional help around her.

‘Not until the morning,’ the midwife who had been assigned to Steph said firmly. ‘Although it was brief, you did suffer some loss of consciousness, so we’d like to keep you under observation for a while just as a precaution. In your case, that’s more important because of the baby. Anyway,’ she added cheerfully, ‘it will give you a chance to look us over and get to know us before you come in for the real thing.’

It was another half an hour before Steph was settled in the small four-room ward with two heavily pregnant companions, and Callie was glad to see that both of them were so eager for the novelty of a new person to talk to that they weren’t about to let her young friend’s defensive prickles put them off.

Callie had almost forgotten about contacting Marian Keeley until she was leaving the antenatal side of the department. She’d turned into the reception area and couldn’t help glancing through the safety glass panel in the doors that divided the mothers with babies from those without.

Right at the other end of the corridor she caught sight of a bustle as several people in theatre scrubs were rushing towards the door with the sign for the delivery room hanging above it.

‘Jess’s baby?’ she murmured aloud, and wondered if there was any way she could find out without asking the staff to break patient confidentiality. If the baby had already arrived, she might have missed her chance to meet the woman she hoped would have a suitable place for Steph. If Jess was still in labour, she might still be able to speak to her.

‘Can I help you?’ said the young midwife, who emerged from the room just the other side of the doors and pushed one of them open to speak to her. ‘It’s husbands only at the moment. General visiting hours don’t start until seven, after the evening meal is over.’

‘It was one of your visitors I was hoping to catch,’ Callie said with a smile. ‘I’m looking for Marian Keeley. She came in with Jess…’

‘Ah, you’re one of Marian’s new volunteers, are you?’ she said with a sudden welcoming smile. ‘Come in and have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting for her. She shouldn’t be long now. Jess is already pushing and…’

At the far end of the corridor there was the sound of a faint wail and her smile grew even wider.

‘Oh, I do love that sound!’ she exclaimed as she beckoned Callie into the room behind her. ‘I’ve delivered dozens already, but it still gives me a thrill. I’m Jenny, by the way. How do you take your coffee? Milk and sugar? I’ll make one for Marian as soon as she’s settled Jess onto the ward.’

‘I’m Callie,’ she offered distractedly, her innate honesty urging her to confess that she wasn’t one of Marian’s volunteers, but what could she say? That she’d never met the woman? That might not be true if she was the same Marian Keeley she’d met nearly two years ago. ‘Milk with just the tiniest bit of sugar would be perfect,’ she said in the end, deciding that explanations could wait until she came face to face with the refuge’s owner.

‘Surely you’re not watching your weight. You certainly don’t need to,’ chatted the young woman as she spooned instant coffee into two mugs and waited for the kettle to boil.

‘Trying to cut down on my coffee intake by making it less palatable,’ Callie admitted wryly. ‘At one time I was drinking it black and nearly thick enough to stand a spoon up.’ It had been one way of getting through the brutal regime that doctors put themselves through to qualify and she’d virtually become addicted to the stuff. Then she’d heard that it could be a factor for couples experiencing difficulty in conceiving and was definitely frowned on for pregnant mums and had completely cut it out of her diet.

Even though it had been nearly five months since she’d lost her precious baby she hadn’t returned to her former coffee intake, feeling as if it would be some sort of admission that she’d given up all hopes of motherhood.

‘How do you stand on the subject of biscuits—chocolate biscuits, to be precise?’ Jenny asked as she held up a rather posh tin. ‘A gift from some very happy parents.’

‘Biscuits are definitely one of the major food groups and chocolate is essential for the existence of civilisation,’ Callie declared solemnly, then grinned as she beckoned the tin closer.

‘Is this a private party or is there room for one more?’ said a voice at the door. ‘I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’

‘Marian!’ Jenny said as she leapt to her feet, but Callie hadn’t needed the unintentional introduction. The woman in the doorway was someone she’d never forgotten even though she no longer resembled the grief-ridden fury she’d last encountered.

She saw the moment that the bereaved woman recognised her and braced herself for another tirade.

‘Dr Lowell!’ she gasped and stared at her open-mouthed for several startled seconds before hurrying into the room. To Callie’s utter amazement the woman bent to throw her arms around her for a fervent hug. ‘Oh, Dr Lowell, I’m so glad to see you. I tried to contact you at the hospital but they said you weren’t on Maternity any more and I’ve felt so guilty…so guilty for what I said to you that day…And it wasn’t your fault…I knew it wasn’t your fault…That you’d done your best to save Lisa…That it was my fault if it was anyone’s that she’d gone off like that, and—’

‘Hey, Marian, slow down,’ said Jenny, clearly stunned by the woman’s unexpected reaction to her visitor. ‘What’s going on here? Callie said she was one of your volunteers.’

‘Actually, I didn’t…’ Callie began, unhappy with the implication that she’d lied, even though she knew she hadn’t corrected the midwife’s mistaken assumption. Marian’s voice overrode hers easily.

‘I should be so lucky!’ she exclaimed with a dramatic roll of her eyes as she slumped into the nearest chair, clearly well at home in the room. ‘Jenny, I don’t know whether she’s said anything, but this is the doctor I was telling you about a little while ago. She was there when my Lisa died. She and her husband were the ones who saved my granddaughter’s life.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘I’M SORRY, sir, but there’s nothing I can do,’ said the policeman in a world-weary tone totally at odds with his youthful appearance. ‘From what you’ve told me, your wife left home of her own accord and—’

‘But you don’t understand,’ Con interrupted, on the verge of screaming with frustration at yet another example of bureaucratic stonewalling. ‘She suffered a traumatic loss not many weeks ago. Our baby was stillborn. This is totally uncharacteristic for her. She would never walk out on our marriage or her job like this. Never.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but…’

The polite half-smile was so infuriating, making him feel as if the man was patronising him for being concerned. ‘Don’t you care that something dreadful may have happened to her? That she might even try to commit suicide or—?’

‘That would be more in your line, Doctor,’ he interrupted flatly. ‘Depression isn’t a legal matter so much as a medical one. Legally, if your wife decides to walk away, there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it other than to list her as a missing person after forty-eight hours.’

Con stabbed his fingers through his hair, tempted to pull it out in handfuls. He knew how fragile Callie was at the moment. He’d been devastated when they’d been told their precious baby’s heart wasn’t beating any more; he could only imagine how much worse it must have felt to her, knowing that the child she’d sheltered inside her own body had died before it could be born.

He’d been tiptoeing around on eggshells while he’d waited for her to sort things out in her head…waited for her to be ready to come and talk to him about her feelings the way she always had…at least, the way she always had until now.

Being patient had been a struggle for him. It was an intrinsic part of his character that he’d always gone after what he wanted…the way he had when he’d met Callie for the first time. He’d known the moment he’d seen her that he was attracted to her and within minutes of speaking to her had started a determined campaign to persuade her that they were perfect for each other.

And they had been, in spite of everything that life had thrown at them…at least, that was what he’d believed.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that she would just walk away from him…from their marriage.

‘Sir?’ prompted the duty constable in a slightly more conciliatory tone. ‘Sometimes people feel they just have to go away when they need some time to themselves…time to think. Often they’ll get in contact with another member of the family or a friend. It might be worthwhile making a list of your wife’s family and close friends and giving them all a call.’

Callie would hate that, Con thought as he trudged wearily out of the police station. She was an intensely private person and if she found out that he’d been telling all and sundry that she’d…what? Blown a fuse? Gone crazy? Well, she really would go crazy then.

As for that note she’d left him…Why on earth would he want to divorce the only woman he’d ever loved? The whole idea was completely…crazy.

There was only one person that he could go to and that was Martin Nimmo. Not only had he known the man since they’d been at school together, but his old friend had gone into law and had handled any legal matters that he and Callie had needed from time to time. He had absolutely no intention of following her instructions, but if Callie’s depression had her confused enough to think of such a thing, then at some stage she would be getting in contact with Martin.

‘Hi, Martin, it’s Callie,’ she said, her heart a lead weight in her chest as she contemplated the irrevocable step she was taking. Would Con have already been in contact with his old friend to set things in motion?

‘Hey, beautiful!’ he exclaimed. ‘I haven’t heard from the two of you in ages. I hope you’re ringing to invite me for another of your delicious home-cooked meals.’

‘N-not exactly,’ she stammered, surprised just how hard one simple phone call could be. ‘I—I wondered if Con has been in contact with you yet?’

‘No…As I said, I haven’t heard from either of you in…’ He stopped suddenly. ‘Callie? What’s the matter? You sound strange. Has something happened? Is Con all right? Are you?’

‘W-we’re all right…sort of,’ she said with a hitch in her voice as tears threatened. Martin was one of the few people who knew just how long the two of them had been trying to start their family. ‘I—I mean, we haven’t had any accidents or anything. It’s just…Con’ll be contacting you soon to do whatever you need to do to sort out about the divorce.’

‘Divorce?’ he echoed in disbelief, then burst out laughing. ‘Oh, very funny, Callie. You had me going there for a minute. If there’s any couple not likely to divorce it’s you and Con. So, why did you ring? Is it that invitation for a poor bachelor otherwise condemned to a diet of junk food?’

‘Martin, I’m not joking,’ Callie said as the tears started slipping down her cheeks. ‘I’ve moved out of the house…moved away completely so I won’t be an embarrassment to him when he—’

‘Callie, what the hell’s going on?’ he interrupted sharply, no laughter in his voice now. ‘You’re crazy about the guy and he loves you, too. What—?’

‘Not any m-more,’ she hiccuped, fighting the gathering flood of tears. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in touch again as soon as I’m settled somewhere, so you’ll know where to send the papers.’

‘Damn the papers!’ he snapped, clearly rattled. ‘Callie, talk to me. Tell me what’s been going on. Something must have been, to get the two of you in such a state. And it must all be a monumental misunderstanding because there’s no way—’

‘I’m sorry, Martin, but I—I just can’t…can’t talk about it,’ she interrupted, hating to be rude to someone who had been a good friend to both of them, but this was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. ‘Speak to Con. He’ll tell you all about it.’

This had definitely not been one of her better ideas, she realised as she tried to mop up her tears without letting Martin know she was crying or attracting too much attention from the people around her.

She’d been waiting for Marian to say her farewells to Jess and the new baby before she drove Callie to see her new venture, and she’d decided to make use of the time by contacting Martin. She obviously should have waited until she was somewhere more private than a telephone kiosk that was little more than a clear plastic bubble.

‘I—I’ll call you in a little while,’ she promised before she fumbled the receiver into its cradle and sobbed.

A persistent tapping beside her head had her hastily smearing the tears away with both hands before she turned to face the elderly gentleman standing nearby.

‘Are you all right, missy?’ he asked in concerned tones. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘There’s nothing anyone can do,’ she said bleakly before she could put a curb on her tongue. ‘I’m sorry. That was rude,’ she apologised swiftly when he blinked at the rebuff. ‘I’m all right, really. I just…had some bad news and…’

‘Take yourself home and make yourself a cup of tea,’ he advised kindly, giving her arm a pat with a gnarled, blue-veined hand. ‘I find that even if it doesn’t make the problem go away, it sometimes makes it easier to cope with.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.