The Midwife's Christmas Baby

Instead, to cover up his guilt and confusion, he snapped at her. ‘So what was it? The Pill didn’t work?’

She flinched. ‘I’m not on the Pill.’

What? He could hardly believe what he was hearing. ‘You led me to believe you were.’ So, in a way, she’d been as devious as Justine. Clearly his judgement was incredibly poor when it came to relationships.

‘I didn’t say I was on the Pill.’

‘You hinted at it.’ He remembered it very clearly. ‘You said I didn’t need a condom. Why would you say that unless you were taking the Pill?’

‘Well, that lets you very nicely off the hook, doesn’t it? Because it’s all my fault. That’s fine. I accept the entire blame for the situation.’ She screwed the cap back on the water bottle. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Darrington, I’m not expecting anything from you. I just thought you had the right to know about the baby.’ She stood up. ‘I’m officially off duty right now, so I’m going home.’

‘Wait. Ella.’ He blew out a breath. ‘You’ve just told me you’re expecting my baby. At least give me time to process the news. And what do you mean, you’re not expecting anything from me? As the baby’s father, of course I’ll support you financially.’ Just as he’d supported Justine when he’d thought that she was pregnant with his baby. A Darrington always did the right thing.

‘I don’t want your money.’

‘Tough. Because I have no intention of letting you go through this unsupported and on your own.’ He stared at her. One thing he was very sure about: this time he wasn’t going to have fatherhood snatched away from him. This time he was exercising his rights, and he was going to have choices. ‘It’s my baby, too, Ella. So that means I get a say. In everything.’

‘I never had you pegged as an overbearing bully,’ she said, ‘but you’re behaving like one right now. I’m telling you about the baby purely out of courtesy, and I know you’re not interested in being with me so I don’t expect anything from you. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve already told you I’m off duty and I want to go home. Goodnight.’

This time, she walked out.

By the time Oliver had gathered his thoughts enough to think of going after her, Ella was nowhere to be seen.

Great.

If he ran after her now, everybody would notice. The last thing either of them needed right now was to have the hospital speculating about their relationship—or, worse still, actually guessing that Ella was pregnant with his baby.

He needed time to think about this. To get used to the idea. To work out exactly what he was going to do.

So much for thinking that he and Ella could smooth over what had happened that night and try to repair their working relationship. Her bombshell had just changed everything. And right at that moment he didn’t have a clue what to do next, or even what to think. She hadn’t even told him why she hadn’t been on the Pill, and he needed to get to the bottom of that. His head was spinning.

He’d finish all the admin here and then go for a run to clear his head. And then, maybe, he’d be able to work out the best way forward. For all three of them.

The run cleared his head a bit. But then the reality slammed home. He was going to be a father.

Oliver took a deep breath. He’d been here before, but this time he had no doubts at all. The baby was his, and so was the responsibility. OK, so she’d told him he didn’t need to use protection, and that had turned out not to be true—but it took two to make a baby. Plus Ella’s family lived hundreds of miles away in Ireland; although her best friend lived in Cheltenham, it basically meant that Ella was on her own. She and the baby needed him to step up to the plate and be responsible.

He could start by making sure that she was taking folic acid and eating properly. Which was hard in the early stages, when you had morning sickness and couldn’t face the smell or taste of certain foods. He now knew the smell of coffee was a trigger for her, so he needed to find something that was bland, yet nutritious and tempting at the same time. Decaffeinated tea might be easier for her than coffee; he knew she usually drank tea at work. And maybe some fresh strawberries, pasteurised yoghurt and granola.

He dropped in to the supermarket on his way home, trying to ignore the piped Christmassy music and the stacks of Christmas chocolates and goodies displayed throughout the shop. Right now it didn’t feel much like Christmas. It felt as if the world had been shaken upside down and he wasn’t quite sure what day it was. Though he rather thought he might need some kind of Christmas miracle right now.

He concentrated on picking out things he thought might tempt Ella to eat, and added a box of vitamins specially formulated for pregnant women. Then he came to the large stand of flowers by the tills. Did Ella even like flowers? He didn’t have a clue. He knew some women hated cut flowers, preferring to let them bloom in a garden or on an indoor plant. And there was the scent issue. Something as strong as lilies might set off her morning sickness.

But it would be a gesture. A start. A way of showing her that he wanted to be on the same side. Maybe something not over-the-top and showy, like the large bouquets sprinkled with artificial snow and glitter. Something a little smaller and bright and cheerful with no scent, like the bunch of sunny yellow gerbera. Although he didn’t have a vase at home, he could stick them in a large glass of water overnight so they’d still look nice in the morning. Hopefully Ella would like them.

Then maybe tomorrow they could talk sensibly about their options. Hopefully Ella would tell him what she really wanted. She’d said that she was only telling him about the baby out of courtesy, but did she really mean that? Did she want him to be part of the baby’s life—part of her life? Or did she really mean to do what their colleague Sienna seemed to be doing, and go it alone?

And what did he want?

Since Justine’s betrayal, Oliver had major trust issues when it came to relationships. He didn’t date seriously. He hadn’t even wanted a proper relationship, thinking that the risks of getting hurt again were too high. But the fact that Ella was expecting his baby changed that. He knew he definitely wanted to be a part of his child’s life.

And Ella? He’d fought against his attraction towards her for months, keeping it strictly professional between them at work. Then, the night of the charity ball, he’d danced with her; it had felt so right to hold her in his arms. To kiss her, when he’d driven her home. To make love with her, losing himself inside her.

If he was honest with himself, he wanted to do it again. And more. He wanted to wake up with her curled in his arms. Being with Ella had made him feel that the world was full of sunshine. That snatched evening was the first time he’d felt really connected with anyone for years. He could actually see them as a family: Ella nursing the baby at the kitchen table, chatting to him about his day when he got home from work. Going to the park, with himself pushing the pram and Ella by his side—maybe with a little dog, too. Reading a bedtime story to the baby together and doing all the voices between them.

They could give their baby the kind of childhood he hadn’t had. One filled with warmth and love.

But then reality slammed in. Did she feel the same way about him? Did she want to make a family with him, or did she just want financial support, the way Justine had? OK, so she didn’t know who his parents were, and she’d said earlier that she didn’t want his money—but was it true?

Had it meant anything to her, giving him her virginity? Or had it all just been a nuisance to her, an embarrassment, something she wanted to get rid of and he’d happened to be in a convenient place to do her a favour? And why had she been so adamant that they didn’t need contraception—especially as it now turned out that she hadn’t been on the Pill?

He didn’t have a clue. In normal circumstances, that would be a difficult conversation to have. With pregnancy hormones clouding the issue, it was going to be even harder.

Tomorrow.

He’d sleep on it and hope that the right words would lodge themselves in his head by tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

ON SUNDAY MORNING, Oliver drove over to the pretty little square where Ella’s flat was and rang her doorbell.

She opened the door wearing pyjamas, sleepy-eyed and with her hair all mussed. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he said.

‘It’s almost half-past nine, so it’s my bad,’ she said wryly. ‘What do you want?’

He held up the recyclable shopping bag. ‘I brought breakfast. I thought maybe we could talk.’

‘Breakfast?’

‘And these.’ He handed her the gerbera. ‘I hope you like them.’

Unexpectedly, her beautiful green eyes filled with tears. ‘Oliver, they’re gorgeous. I love yellow flowers. Thank you. Though you really didn’t have to do that.’

‘I wanted to,’ he admitted. And right now, seeing her all warm and sleepy, he really wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close and tell her that he’d protect her from the world.

Except he wasn’t sure how she’d react, and he knew he needed to take this slowly and carefully until he had a better idea of what was going on in her head. He wasn’t going to end up in the same place he’d been after Justine, where he’d been in love with her but she hadn’t loved him back.

‘Come in. I’ll put the kettle on.’ She ushered him through to her living room. ‘I’ll go and have a quick shower and get dressed, and then I’ll put those lovely flowers in water.’

‘You don’t have to change on my behalf.’

She gave him a speaking glance. ‘I can’t be sitting here at my kitchen table in pyjamas, with you all dressed up like a magazine model.’

‘Apart from the fact that I’m not all dressed up, I don’t mind if you stay in your pyjamas.’

‘Well, I do.’

He really didn’t want to sit around doing nothing. It wasn’t his style. He’d always preferred keeping busy. ‘Shall I make breakfast, then, while you’re showering?’

He could see that she was torn between insisting that it was her flat so it was her job to make breakfast, and letting him do something. ‘All right,’ she said finally. ‘I normally eat in the kitchen, if that’s all right with you.’

‘OK. I’ll see you when you’re ready.’

By the time Ella had showered and changed into jeans and a cute Christmassy sweater with a reindeer in a bow tie on the front, Oliver had laid two places at the tiny bistro table in her kitchen and had arranged everything on the table: freshly squeezed orange juice, granola, yoghurt and a bowl of hulled and washed strawberries. It looked amazing. And she couldn’t remember the last time anyone apart from her parents had made this kind of fuss over her. Right now she felt cherished—special—and it was a good feeling.

‘No coffee,’ he said.

‘Thanks. I really can’t bear the smell of it.’

‘And that’s why I held off on the croissants. Just in case they affected you, too.’ He gestured to the teapot. ‘The tea’s decaf—I thought it might be easier for you to manage.’

‘That’s so sweet.’ He’d made all this effort just for her, and her heart melted. ‘This all looks so nice. Thank you.’

‘I had to guess because I didn’t really know what kind of thing you like for breakfast.’

She blushed. ‘You didn’t stay for breakfast when... Well, you know.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Right at that moment, he looked just as embarrassed and awkward as she felt. She’d been stupid to bring up the issue.

‘I just wanted to do something nice for you,’ he said.

‘And I appreciate it,’ she said meaning it.

He poured her a mug of tea. ‘No sugar, right?’

She loved the fact that he’d actually noticed how she took her tea. ‘Right.’

‘So how are you feeling?’ he asked.

‘Mostly fine. Just as long as I avoid strong smells.’ She smiled. ‘And that should get better in about six weeks, or so I always tell my mums.’

‘It’s usually better by the second trimester,’ he agreed.

‘I thought Sienna was teasing me when she told me that tin cans actually smell when you’re pregnant,’ Ella said, ‘but she’s right. They do.’ She shuddered, and took a sip of the orange juice. ‘This is lovely. Thank you so much. I feel totally spoiled.’

‘It’s the least I could do.’ Again, Oliver could imagine having breakfast with Ella on Sunday mornings. A lazy breakfast, with toast and tea and the Sunday papers, and then taking the baby out together for a late-morning walk in the park... It shocked him to discover how much he actually wanted that.

A real relationship.

With Ella and their baby.

Thankfully she hadn’t noticed him mooning about, because she asked, ‘So is everything OK with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re settling in well to your new job?’

‘Just about,’ he said, smiling back at her. Maybe this was going to work out. They could at least make polite conversation. And they’d been friends before the masked ball. They respected each other as colleagues. He really believed they could salvage something from this now.

He kept the conversation going until they’d finished breakfast and he started clearing the table; then he noticed that there was still something left in the bag he’d brought with him. ‘Oh, I meant to give you this earlier.’ He took the box of vitamins from the bag and handed them to her.

She frowned. ‘What’s this?’

‘Folic acid—obviously now you know about the baby, you need to start taking it.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Her face shuttered. ‘Did it occur to you that I might already have bought a pregnancy vitamin supplement with folic acid?’

‘I—’ He stared at her. No. He hadn’t given it a second thought.

‘Oliver, I’m a midwife. It’d be a bit stupid of me to ignore my years of training about the best way for pregnant women to look after themselves and their babies, wouldn’t it?’

She sounded really put out, though he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. All he’d done was buy her some vitamins. ‘I was just trying to help. To look after you.’

‘To take over, more like,’ she said.

‘But—’

‘Do you think I’m suffering from “pregnancy brain” and I’m completely flaky?’ she asked. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘And, for your information, “pregnancy brain” is a total myth. I came across a piece on the news the other day that said actually women’s brains are sharper when they’re pregnant.’

What? Where was all this coming from? He didn’t understand. ‘Ella, I didn’t accuse you of anything of the sort.’

‘No, but you bought me folic acid without even thinking that I might already have some. There’s a huge difference between asking me if you can pick something up for me, and just presenting me with it as if I’m too stupid to have thought of it for myself.’

‘You’re overreacting.’

‘Am I?’ She folded her arms. ‘If this is how it’s going to be for the next seven and a half months, with you looking over my shoulder all the time and making decisions for me without even bothering to discuss things with me first...’ Again, she shook her head. ‘That’s really overbearing and that’s not what I want, Oliver. Actually, right now I think I’d like you to leave and give me some space.’

He stared at her in disbelief. ‘All I want to do is to protect you and the baby, and provide for you. How’s that being overbearing?’

Could he really not see it? Ella wondered. ‘It’s overbearing because you’re not discussing anything with me. You’ve made the decision already and you’re expecting me to just shut up and go along with it.’ She’d been there before: when everyone thought that little Ella wasn’t bright enough to train as a midwife. She hated the way Oliver seemed to be falling into those same attitudes and thinking he knew what was best for her. She’d had years of feeling undermined and useless, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. ‘And if you dare say that’s just pregnancy hormones making me grumpy, I’ll...I’ll...’ She was too angry to think of what she’d do next. So much for thinking he wanted to cherish her. What an idiot she was, letting herself fall a little more in love with a control freak who wanted to boss her around.

‘Ella, this is—’

‘I need some space. Thank you for the flowers and breakfast, because that was very nice of you, but I’d really like you to leave now. Please.’

‘What about the washing up?’

‘I think I might just about be capable of sorting that out for myself.’ She stood up and gestured to the doorway. ‘Would you give me some space, please?’

Maybe making a tactical retreat would be the best thing to do right now, Oliver thought. ‘All right.’

He wasn’t sure whether her reaction had made him more hurt or angry. He’d tried to do the right thing, but Ella was being totally unreasonable. He’d never called her intelligence into question. Why on earth would she think he had?

Despite her protests, he was pretty sure that pregnancy hormones were affecting her mood.

He’d try to talk to her again later and hope that she’d be in a better frame of mind. More receptive.

Going to the gym and pounding the treadmill didn’t help. Neither did going to his office and spending a couple of hours catching up on paperwork.

Was he really being overbearing and making decisions without asking her? Oliver wondered.

A simple box of vitamins really shouldn’t cause this much trouble.

Justine had been more than happy for him to make a fuss of her and buy things for her while she was pregnant. Then again, she’d had her reasons. But Ella was seriously independent. Brave enough to travel to London at the age of eighteen to study midwifery, so far from her family home in Ireland that she wouldn’t be able to just pop home for the weekend like most of the other students could. And she’d be brave enough to bring up this baby on her own.

Except she didn’t have to.

He wanted to be there. For her and for the baby.

He didn’t want to tell her about Justine—not just yet—but he could try to build a bridge. Try to see things from Ella’s point of view.

It didn’t take him long to drive back to her flat.

This time, when she answered the doorbell, she didn’t smile.

‘Hear me out?’ he asked. ‘Please?’

She said nothing, but at least she didn’t slam the door in his face. ‘I was going to get you flowers as an apology, but I already bought you flowers this morning and I don’t want you to think I’m going over the top—especially as you already think I’m being overbearing. I had no idea what to get you. I don’t know what you like, so I just...’ Oliver hated feeling so clueless and awkward. Normally he was in charge and he knew everything would go smoothly. This was way out of his comfort zone.

‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t need you to buy me things.’

Another difference between Ella and the women he usually dated: they expected presents. Expensive presents.

‘The most important thing is that I’m sorry for being bossy. I don’t mean to be and I’ll try not to be. But,’ he said, ‘old habits die hard, and I can’t promise that I won’t mess up in the future.’

Her face softened, then, as if she understood the jumble of thoughts filling his head, and she stepped back from the doorway. ‘Come in and I’ll make some tea—and, for the record, I’m perfectly capable of filling a kettle with water and boiling it.’

‘I know,’ he said. He’d got the message that Ella liked her independence. ‘But is there anything I can do to help?’

‘Just sit down and let me do it myself.’

He waited on the sofa in the living room, feeling more and more antsy as the seconds passed.

Finally, she came in with two mugs of tea.

‘Thank you,’ he said, accepting one of the mugs.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement and sat down at her desk rather than next to him on the sofa. Making a point, he supposed.

‘It must be difficult for you, being in this situation,’ she said.

That was an understatement. She didn’t know anything about the memories it was bringing back, and right at the moment it wasn’t something he wanted to share. ‘It’s not exactly a picnic for you, either,’ he said, trying to see it from her point of view. ‘All I need to do is to get my head round this properly.’ All. He was struggling enough with that. ‘But it’s worse for you because you get all the morning sickness and what have you as well.’

‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she said dryly.

‘Ella, I want to be there for you and the baby.’

‘I understand that. But it doesn’t give you the right to push me around.’

He hadn’t been trying to push her around, but he didn’t want to argue. Now was probably not the right time to ask difficult questions about the contraception issue, either. He wanted to get their relationship on a less rocky footing, first. Instead, he asked carefully, ‘So have you thought about what kind of care you want, and whether you want to book in at Teddy’s or if you’d rather go somewhere else?’

‘I know all the staff at Teddy’s and I know I’ll get the best care there, so it makes sense to book in to our department,’ she said. ‘Though it does mean everyone’s going to know. And at a really early stage.’

‘Is that a problem?’

She looked thoughtful. ‘I guess not—I mean, everyone’s been great about Sienna. After the initial gossip, wondering who the baby’s father is.’

‘Would you prefer people not to know I’m the baby’s father?’

‘I don’t want people thinking I slept with you to get an advantage at work.’

He smiled. ‘Ella, nobody would ever think that of you. You work hard enough for two people as it is.’ He paused. ‘What about a scan?’

‘I already know I’m about seven weeks.’

‘Which is about the right time for a dating scan—not that I disbelieve you on the dates, just...’

She nodded. ‘Though it’ll mean people will know now, not later on.’

‘Yes, and they’ll cut you a bit of slack—this is the stage where you’re likely to feel really tired and need a break.’

‘I’ll still be part of the team, and being pregnant doesn’t alter that.’

Why was she being so difficult about this? ‘I’m not saying that you’re not part of the team—just that maybe you could cut back a bit on your shifts for a while.’

Her face darkened. ‘No.’

‘Ella—’

‘I said before, please don’t push me around. You’re not my keeper, Oliver.’

‘I know. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you.’

‘Because I’m not bright enough to know what’s best for me?’

‘No, of course not.’ He didn’t get why she was being so prickly. ‘Ella, is there something you’re not telling me?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You and me—we’ve always got on well. Until—well.’ He didn’t want to embarrass her by putting it into words.

But she clearly wanted to face it head-on. ‘Until we slept together.’

‘I feel guilty about that. You’re not the sort who does one-night stands—and I took your virginity.’

‘Which isn’t an issue.’

‘It is for me.’

She looked confused. ‘Why?’

‘Because it makes me feel dishonourable.’

She scoffed. ‘Oh, get over yourself, Oliver. What are you, the Lord of the Manor?’

Not far off it. But he needed to get back on reasonable terms with her before he dropped that particular bombshell. ‘I’m sorry. I did warn you I’d mess up on the control freakery stuff.’