Newborn on Her Doorstep

‘Kate!’

She wasn’t sure which of them shouted first, but as it became apparent that Nic had had no idea she was going to be there Lily felt flames of embarrassment lick up her cheeks, colouring her skin. Oh, Kate had some explaining to do.

Kate at least had the good grace to look sheepish when she emerged into the hallway.

‘What the hell is she doing here?’

Lily’s gaze snapped back to Nic at the anger in his voice and she felt herself physically recoil. She was as surprised to see him there as he was to find them both in the flat—Kate had promised her he would be out of town for at least a week yet—but the venom in his voice was unexpected and more than a little offensive.

‘Nic!’ Kate admonished. ‘Don’t talk about Lily like that. I promise you, I can explain. You’re not meant to be here.’

‘It’s my home, Kate. Where else would I be?’

‘Well, India, for a start. And then Bangladesh. And Rome. And...’

‘And I decided to spend a few weeks in the office before I go abroad again. I pushed some of my trips back. Not that I need to explain myself—I’m not the one who’s in the wrong here.’

He threw a look at Lily that was impossible to misinterpret.

‘Look...’ Kate was using her best lawyer voice, and Lily suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Nic. When she took that tone there was little doubt that she was going to get her own way.

But it didn’t matter how Kate was planning on sweet-talking her way out of ‘stretching the truth’, as she was bound to call it. There was no way she could stay here—not with the looks of pure anger that Nic was sending their way.

‘This is how I see things: Lily needs somewhere to stay. Rosie can’t go back to Lily’s as it has no kitchen, no back wall, isn’t warm or even watertight. You have a big, ridiculous apartment that was meant to be empty for at least the next week, and which even when you’re here has more available square footage than most detached family homes.’

Nic opened his mouth to argue, but Kate held up a hand, cutting him off.

‘You, Mr Humanitarian, having spent the last decade saving the world one child factory worker at a time, have the opportunity to practise what you preach here. Charity begins at home, you know.’

Lily rolled her eyes at the cliché, and from the corner of her eye caught just the hint of a smirk starting at the corner of Nic’s lips. When she built up the courage to look at him straight she saw that the tension had dropped from his face and he was smiling openly at his sister.

‘Oh, you’re good,’ he said. ‘Very good. I hope they’re paying you well.’

‘And I’m worth every penny,’ she confirmed. ‘Now, seeing as you’re home, I don’t want to step on any toes.’ She thrust the screwdriver into his hand and Nic had no choice but to take it. ‘I’ll leave you two to work out the details.’

And before Lily could pick up her jaw from the floor Kate had disappeared out of the front door, leaving her holding the baby and Nic staring at the screwdriver.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, rushing to put Rosie down in her pram and take the screwdriver from Nic’s hand. ‘She told me that you’d okayed it, but I should have guessed... I’ll pack our stuff up and order a cab and we’ll be out of your hair.’

Nic gave her a long look, and she watched, fascinated, as emotions chased over his face, first creasing his forehead and his eyes, then smoothing across his cheeks with something like resignation.

‘Where will you go?’

‘Oh...’ Lily flapped a hand, hoping that the distraction would cover the fact that she didn’t have a clue what her next move was. ‘Back to mine, of course. It’s not that bad. I’m sure I can come up with another plan.’

Nic rubbed his hand across his forehead.

‘What plan?’

‘A hotel,’ Lily said, improvising wildly. ‘Maybe a temporary rental.’

He let out a long sigh and shook his head slowly.

‘Stay here.’

‘Nic, I couldn’t—’

Lily started to speak, but Nic’s raised hand stopped her.

‘Kate’s right. You need a place to stay. I have loads of room here.’

A warm flood of relief passed through Lily. For a moment she’d thought that she might be out on the streets—worse, that she wouldn’t be able to provide Rosie with the home she so desperately needed. And it was the thought that Rosie needed somewhere safe to stay that had her swallowing her pride and nodding to agree with what was almost certainly a terrible idea.

‘Thank you. I promise we’ll keep out of your way.’

* * *

Lily stood in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, surveying the vast array of knobs and buttons on the espresso machine built into the kitchen wall. She’d already boiled the kettle, intimidated by the levers and chrome of the machine, but in the absence of a jar of good old instant coffee she was going to have to do battle with this beast. She tried the sleek-looking knob on the left—and jumped back from the torrent of steam that leapt from the nozzle hidden beneath. Thank God she’d left Rosie safely sleeping in their room.

A lightly haired forearm appeared over her shoulder and turned off the knob, shutting down the steam and leaving her red-faced and perspiring.

‘Here,’ Nic said, taking the cup from her hand. ‘Let me.’

‘Thanks.’ Lily handed over coffee responsibility gratefully, and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

Embarrassment sat in the air between them, and Lily’s mind couldn’t help but fly back to that kiss in the hospital. The way that Nic’s lips had pressed so firmly against hers, as if he was fighting himself even as he was kissing her. He’d known that it was a bad idea at the time—she was sure of that. And yet he’d done it anyway. Now they were living together—and apparently they were just going to ignore that it had happened. But even with them saying nothing, it was there, in the atmosphere between them, making them awkward with each other.

She wondered whether she should say something, try and clear the air, but then she heard a cry from the bedroom.

‘You go and get Rosie. I’ll sort the coffee.’

Was that an invitation? Were they going to sit down and drink a cup of coffee like civilised adults? And if they did would he bring up the kiss? Would she? Surely they couldn’t just carry on as if nothing had happened. It was making her clumsy around him, and she could never feel relaxed or at home unless they both loosened up. Maybe that was what he was hoping for. That he’d be able to make things awkward enough that she’d have no choice but to leave. Then he’d get his apartment back without having to be the big bad wolf in the story.

* * *

Lily had returned to the kitchen with the baby in one arm, and set about making up a bottle for her. Nic watched them carefully, knowing that a gentleman would offer to help, but finding himself not quite able to live up to that ideal.

‘It’s good we’ve got a chance to sit down and talk,’ he said as he carried their coffees over to the kitchen island. ‘I wanted to apologise for the other day. The...the kiss. And the way I left things. I know I was a bit abrupt.’

‘It’s fine—’ Lily started, but he held up a hand to stop her.

The memory of the confusion on her face had been haunting him, and he knew that if they were to live together, even if it was only temporarily, he had to make sure she knew exactly why that kiss had been such a mistake. Why she shouldn’t hope for or expect another.

They had only known each other for a few days, but after that parting shot at the hospital he wouldn’t be able to blame her if she’d misinterpreted things—if she’d read more into that kiss than he’d ever wanted to give. She deserved better than that...better than a man with his limitations. And with Rosie in her life she was going to have to demand more. Demand someone who would support her family life whatever happened. He’d already been tested on that front and found wanting. It was only fair that Lily knew where they both stood.

‘Please,’ he continued, ‘I want to explain.’

A line appeared between her brows, as if she had suddenly realised that this was a conversation neither of them would enjoy. The suggestion that she was hurt pained him physically, but he forced himself to continue—for both their sakes.

‘There’s no need to explain anything, but I’ll listen if you want me to.’

She glanced over at the counter, her edginess showing in the way she was fidgeting with her coffee cup. The anxious expression on her face told him so much. She’d guessed something of his history. Guessed, at least, how hard it was for him to be around Rosie. Had she seen how impossible it would be for them even to be friends?

Not that friends would ever have really worked, he mused, when the sight of her running a hand through her hair made him desperate to reach across and see if it felt as silky as it looked. When he’d lain awake every night since they’d last met remembering the feel of her lips under his, imagining the softness of her skin and the suppleness of her body.

He kept his eyes on Lily, never dropping them to the little girl in her arms, not risking the pain that would assault him if he even glanced at Rosie or acknowledged that she was there. The way Lily looked at him, her clear blue gaze, gave him no room to lie or evade. He knew that faced with that open, honest look he’d be able to speak nothing but the truth.

‘There’s something I need to tell you...’ he started.

His voice held the hint of a croak, and he felt the cold climbing his chest, wondered how on earth he was meant to get these words out. How he was meant to relive the darkest days of his life with this woman who a week ago had been a stranger.

‘I know there’s something between us—at least I know that I’ve started to feel something for you. But I need you to know that I won’t act again on what I feel.’

He kept his voice deliberately flat, forcing the emotion from it as he’d had to do when faced with people living and working in inhuman conditions. And he looked down at the table, unable to bear her sympathetic scrutiny. Or what if he had read this wrong—what if there was nothing between them at all? What if he’d imagined the chemistry that kept drawing them together even as it hurt him? It wasn’t as if he’d even given her a chance to return his kiss. He risked a glance up at her. Her lip was caught between her teeth and the line had reappeared on her forehead. But he wasn’t sure what he was seeing on her face. Not clear disappointment. Definitely not surprise.

‘It’s fine, Nic. You don’t need to say any more.’

‘I do.’

He wanted her to know, wanted to acknowledge his feelings even if just this once. Wanted her to understand that it was nothing about her that was holding him back. And he wanted her to understand him in a way that he’d never wanted before. He’d never opened up and talked about what had happened. But now he had been faced with the consequences of the choices he’d made so many years ago he wanted to acknowledge what he had felt, what he felt now.

‘I want to explain. For you to understand. Look, it’s not you, Lily.’ He cringed when he heard for himself how clichéd that sounded. ‘It’s...it’s Rosie. It’s the way that you look at her. I won’t ever have children, Lily. And I know that I cannot be in a relationship—any relationship—because of that.’

‘Nic, we barely know each other. Don’t you think that you’re being—?’

He was thinking too far ahead. Of course he was. But if he didn’t put an end to this now he wasn’t sure how or if he ever could. What he had to say needed to be said out loud. He needed to hear it to make sure that he could never go back, never find himself getting closer to Lily and unable to get away.

‘Maybe. Maybe I’m jumping to a million different conclusions here, and maybe I’ve got this all wrong. But the thing is, Lily, I’m never going to want to have children. Ever. And I don’t think it would be right for me to leave you in any doubt about that, given your current situation.’

He allowed himself a quick look down at Rosie, and the painful clench of his heart at the sight of her round cheeks and intense concentration reminded him that he was doing the right thing. It was easier to say that it was because of the baby. Of course that was a big part of it. But there was more—there were things that he couldn’t say. Things that he had been ashamed of for so long that he wasn’t sure he could even bear to think of them properly, never mind share them with someone else.

‘Well, thanks for telling me.’

She was fiddling with her coffee cup again, stirring it rapidly, sloshing some of the rich dark liquid over the side. He’d offended her—and what else did he expect, just telling half the story? All he’d basically done so far was break up with a woman he wasn’t even dating.

‘Lily, I’m sorry I’m not making much sense. It’s just hard for me to talk about... The reason I don’t want children... I was a father once. I lost my son, and it broke my heart, and I know that I can never put myself at risk of going through that again.’

And if she was going to take this gamble, raise her sister’s child with no idea of what the future held, then she needed someone in her life she could rely on. Someone who would support her with whatever she needed. Who wouldn’t let her down. He hadn’t been able to do that when Max had died, hadn’t been the man his partner had needed, and he’d lost his girlfriend as well as his son.

A hush fell between them and Nic realised he had raised his voice until it was almost a shout. Lily dropped the bottle and Rosie gave a mew of discontent. But Nic’s eyes were all on Lily, watching her face as she realised what he had said, as the significance of his words sank in.

She reached out and touched his hand. He should have flinched away. It was the reason he had told her everything, after all. But he couldn’t. He turned his hand and grabbed hold of hers, anchoring himself to the present, saving himself from drowning in memories.

Now that he had told her, surely the danger was over. Now she would be as wary of these feelings as he was. He just wanted to finish this conversation—make sure that she knew that this wasn’t personal, it wasn’t about her. If Rosie had never turned up...if he’d never had a son... But there was no point thinking that way. No point in what-ifs and maybes.

* * *

‘Nic, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say, but I’d like to hear more about your son. If you want to talk about it.’

He breathed out a long sigh, his forehead pressed into the heels of his hands, but then he looked up to meet her gaze and she could see the pain, the loss, the confusion in his eyes.

‘It won’t change anything.’

She reached for his hand again, offering comfort, nothing more—however much she might want to.

‘I know, but if you want to talk then I’d like to listen.’

He stared at the counter a little longer, until eventually, with a slight shake of his head, he started to speak.

‘I was nineteen and naïve when I met this girl—Clare—at a university party. We hit it off, and soon we were living in each other’s pockets, spending all our time together. We were both in our first year, neither of us thinking about the future. We were having fun, and I thought I was falling in love with her.’

Lily was shocked at the strength of her jealousy over something that had happened a decade ago, and fought down the hint of nausea that his tale had provoked.

‘Well, we were young and silly and in love, and we took risks that we shouldn’t have.’

It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going but, knowing that the story had a tragic end, Lily felt a pall of dread as she waited for Nic’s next words.

‘When Clare told me she was pregnant I was shocked. I mean, a few months beforehand we’d been living with our parents, and now we were going to be parents ourselves... But as the shock wore off we got more and more excited—’

His voice finally broke, and Lily couldn’t help squeezing his hand. There was nothing sexual in it. Nothing romantic. All she wanted was to offer comfort, hope.

‘By the time the baby was due we’d moved in together, even started to talk about getting married. So there I was: nineteen, as good as engaged, and with a baby on the way.’

His eyes widened and his jaw slackened, as if he couldn’t understand how he had got from there to here—how the life that still lit up his face when he described it had disintegrated.

‘The day Max was born was the best of my life. As soon as I held him in my arms I knew that I loved him. Everyone tells you that happens, but you never believe them until you experience it. He was so perfect, this tiny human being. For three weeks we were the perfect little family. I washed him, changed his nappies, fed him, just sat there and breathed in his smell and watched him sleep. I’ve never been so intoxicated by another person. Never held anything so precious in my arms.’

His face should have glowed at that. He should have radiated happiness, talking about the very happiest time of his life. But already the demons were incoming, cracking his voice and lining his face, and Lily held her breath, bracing herself.

‘When he was three weeks old we woke one day to sunlight streaming into the bedroom and instantly knew that something was wrong. He’d not woken for his early feed. And when I went to his crib...’

He didn’t have to say it. All of a sudden Lily wished that he wouldn’t, that he would spare her this. But he hadn’t been spared; he hadn’t been shown mercy. He’d had his heart broken, his life torn apart in the most painful way imaginable. She couldn’t make herself want to share that pain with him, but she wanted to help ease it if she could. She’d do just about anything to lift that blanket of despair from his face.

‘He was gone. Already cold. I picked him up and shouted for Clare, held him in my arms until the ambulance arrived, but it was no good. Nothing I could have done would have helped him. They all told me that. They told me that for days and weeks afterwards. Until they started to forget. Or maybe they thought that I was forgetting. But I haven’t, Lily.’

For the first time since he’d started speaking he looked up and met her gaze head-on. There was solid determination there.

‘I can never forget. And when I see Rosie...’

It all became clear: the way he turned away from the baby, the way he flinched if he had to interact with her, the stricken look on his face the one time he’d had to hold her. Seeing Rosie—seeing any baby—brought him unimaginable pain. There could be no children in his future, no family. And so she completely understood why it was he was fighting this attraction. Why he pushed away from their chemistry, trying to protect himself. Knowing that there could never be anything between them didn’t make it easier, though. The finality of it hurt.

But there was one part of the story he hadn’t finished.

‘And... Clare?’

He dropped his head back into his hands and she knew that he was hiding tears. It was a couple of minutes before he could speak again.

‘We were broken,’ he said simply. ‘We tried for a while. But whatever it was that had brought us together—it died with our baby. She needed... I couldn’t... I saw her a couple of years ago, actually, in the supermarket, of all places, by the baked beans. We exchanged polite hellos, because what else could we say: Remember when we lost our son and our world fell apart and could never be put back together? Remember when you needed me to be there for you, to help you through your grief, and I couldn’t do it?

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