Brought Together by Baby (5 page)

With Julia.

Without Holly.

He listened as Shaun Haggerty responded to Holly’s suggestion about the baby’s prematurity. ‘We will, of course, continue to observe him closely.’

‘You said there was another problem?’ Gus prompted, grateful they were moving on from the awkward issue of conception.

‘Yes.’ The consultant opened a file, glancing at something before looking up again, apology in his eyes. ‘I don’t like to press you on such things at this distressing time, but my concern is your son’s health. So I need to ask…Was your wife drinking during her pregnancy?’

Gus sat back in shock, totally unprepared for the question. ‘No! Absolutely not,’ he refuted, a sick feeling in his stomach.

There was much about Julia he didn’t know. There had been times when her mercurial temper and unpredictable mood swings had made life especially difficult. But surely he would have noticed something so far amiss?

‘There’s no alcohol in the house. I don’t drink, and I never saw Julia drink after she knew she was expecting a child,’ he continued, feeling the gentle squeeze of Holly’s fingers. ‘She found pregnancy difficult—she was quite ill. And she gave up smoking, too. She knew her health was important for the baby.’

Or so he’d thought.

Mr Haggerty nodded and wrote a note in the file, but his frown remained. ‘I had to ask, Gus, I’m sorry. There was an almost empty bottle of gin in the car, and tests have revealed that Julia was more than three times over the drink-drive limit. We need to know if this was a one-off aberration or something that might have a longer-term effect on your baby. There’s no evidence of foetal alcohol syndrome, but we’re running tests to be on the safe side.’

Gus swore under his breath. He was stunned. And angry. Julia had relied on him to take her wherever she’d wanted to go, claiming she didn’t drive, so he had no idea why and how she’d taken his car—or where she’d been. The news that she’d been irresponsible enough to drink excessively before getting behind the wheel astounded and infuriated him. It was bad enough that she’d brought about her own injuries, but to risk the life of others, including her unborn child, was unforgivable.

He met Holly’s gaze and saw the dismay and concern in her sky-blue eyes. They both knew what long-term alcohol consumption could do to a growing baby, and he hoped with
all his heart that Julia’s rash behaviour that day
was
the aberration the consultant suggested and nothing worse. His son had enough to battle against without inherited alcohol problems on top.

Whatever else had occurred between them, and however hard things had been in recent months, he knew he’d been diligent in his care of both Julia and the baby. But he hadn’t been there twenty-four hours a day. Nor had he been Julia’s keeper. He’d trusted her to keep her side of the bargain…that she’d do all she could to protect herself and their unborn child. Now that trust had been broken in the worst possible way.

‘I want to see my son,’ he announced gruffly, releasing Holly’s hand and rising impatiently to his feet.

‘Of course. And you will…very soon,’ the consultant placated him, gesturing back to the chair. ‘If you can bear with me a little longer, Gus? I know this isn’t easy for you, or for Holly, but I have to ask you about Julia.’

Unsettled, and overwhelmed by the myriad emotions fighting inside him, Gus reluctantly sat down again, feeling bereft without the comfort of Holly’s hand in his. He was alarmed that he’d felt the once-familiar kick in the gut and tingle down the spine when he’d looked at her. He felt guilty for his response to Holly, and even guiltier for begrudging Mr Haggerty the time he wanted to spend talking about Julia. On a human level he felt deep shock and sadness for her, but the only thing driving him on was a desperation to see his son.

He met Holly’s gaze, unable to read her thoughts. She was clearly deeply affected by events—her support had been genuine—but he was less able to gauge her feelings about her older sister. They’d not been close. He smothered a humourless laugh at the understatement. He understood little of the
complex situation between the two women—a situation he’d been unwittingly drawn into.

Not that he was in any position to judge the level of Holly’s grief for Julia. He felt the pressing weight of guilt and shame as he forced himself to admit the truth. That whilst he would never have wished this tragedy on Julia, the primary rush of emotion he’d experienced was not grief, as everyone assumed, but relief.

Relief at being freed from the loveless, lonely marriage they’d endured these last months…months when they’d played their roles well enough to convince those around them that their relationship was real.

* * *

Holly had no idea what Gus was thinking, but when she felt the full force of his smoky green gaze on her she was unable to prevent a quiver of reaction. Her hand still tingled from his touch. She’d been unable to resist the urge to reach out to him, driven by the emotion in his voice when he’d learned about his son. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she recalled the way he’d responded, taking her hand, linking their fingers and holding on tight, creating a shared bond between them…one that had seemed so natural months ago but which now left her confused and puzzled.

Gus looked away, releasing her from his magnetic hold. A ragged breath whispered from her. Without the comfort of holding his hand she felt bereft and alone. The shock of all that had happened was taking its toll, and the tension between Gus and herself made everything more difficult. She was still angry at the way he’d so publicly rejected her and made her the centre of gossip. The pain and betrayal at the knowledge of Julia’s pregnancy had never lessened. Now the baby was here, having survived a traumatic birth, and she was swamped by a rush of conflicting emotions.

After months of attempting to put distance between them, the last thing she wanted was to spend time with Gus again, and yet her first instinct on learning of the tragedy had been to run to him. Clasping her shaking hands together, Holly glanced at Gus. They’d been united by events and a shared concern for the baby, and somehow she had to find a way of putting her jumbled feelings about Gus aside.

Gus remained silent and remote, so Holly forced herself to ask the question that was hanging in the air. ‘Wh-What about Julia?’

Mr Haggerty sighed and shook his head. ‘There’s no hope for her, I’m afraid. As I explained, her injuries were so severe that, had it not been for signs of life from the baby, she would have been declared dead at the scene of the accident. In order to save the baby and maintain his oxygen and blood-flow, she was placed on life support. We’d like your permission to turn that off. But first there’s the delicate issue of asking you to consider the possibility of organ donation. I appreciate how difficult it is, but you know time is critical. My advice, for what it’s worth, is to look to the future…to the miracle of this baby,’ the older man finished with sympathy.

‘Holly, what do you want to do?’ Gus asked gruffly, taking her by surprise by including her. ‘Did Julia express her views to you on donating?’

‘I know she didn’t carry a donor card, but we never discussed it. Personally I’m fully in favour of giving someone on the transplant waiting list the chance of a better life, but I’ll support whatever decision you make,’ she told him, conscious that helping others had never been a high priority for her sister.

‘Like Holly, I support the donor programme. Let’s hope that along with the baby some good can come from this tragedy.’ A silence stretched heavily for a long moment before
Gus continued, his voice raw. ‘I think we should take medical advice and let Julia rest in peace.’

Holly was relieved they were on the same wavelength—on this, at least. ‘I agree. It’s the right thing to do, Gus.’

‘I know it isn’t an easy decision, but I hope the knowledge that other people’s lives will be saved might help a little,’ Mr Haggerty offered, scribbling notes in the file. ‘And I can assure you Julia will be treated with every care and respect.’

‘Thank you.’ Gus’s tone was stiff and guarded. ‘Will there need to be an official identification?’

Holly sucked in a breath. This was something she hadn’t thought about. She glanced at Gus but could read none of his emotions. What must this be doing to him? And how could he bear it if he had to identify Julia? There and then she decided that if he was called on to perform the task he would not be doing it alone. It was the last thing she wanted, but she would be there for him—even though his pain and grief over Julia twisted the knife ever more cruelly inside her.

‘As I said, the police will be speaking with you and helping you through the aftermath of this dreadful event. There’ll be a routine investigation, and you’ll be kept informed of the outcome,’ the consultant told them, rolling his pen in his fingers. ‘But you won’t be asked to identify her. The police are satisfied with the chain of evidence…and I’m sad to say the accident has rendered her facially unrecognisable.’

Although relieved that she and Gus would be spared one trauma, Holly wrestled with the disturbing reality of Julia’s injuries. What a tragic irony that in death her sister had lost the thing she’d most valued in life—her looks. She couldn’t bear to think of the horror Julia had experienced, or how much she might have known and suffered. However bad their relationship, however much Julia had hurt her, and however much she’d hated her sister’s betrayals—most recently and
painfully with Gus—she would never have wished such a devastating accident on her.

‘Does Julia have any unique distinguishing marks?’

Mr Haggerty’s question drew Holly from her thoughts. To her surprise Gus remained silent, his gaze averted, and realising he must be in shock, and had no intention of answering, she spoke up. ‘There’s her tattoo.’

‘A tattoo? Can you describe it?’ the consultant asked, raising one thick dark eyebrow.

‘Julia had it done at sixteen as an act of rebellion,’ Holly explained. A shiver ran through her as she recalled the uproar her sister had joyfully provoked over the tattoo. ‘There were big rows—especially with our father. It’s of a mouth—scarlet lips, shaped as if blowing a kiss—and there are words around it.’

‘What words? And where is the tattoo?’ Mr Haggerty queried, making notes.

A soft bloom of colour pinkened her cheeks. ‘It’s on her right buttock, and the words read
“Kiss my butt”
,’ she admitted with a nervous laugh, her blush deepening.

‘Very distinctive,’ Mr Haggerty replied, with a small smile of his own.

The brief moment of unexpected and embarrassed humour failed to lessen the tension that hung in the room, and Holly felt increasingly conscious of Gus’s brooding presence. Gus, who had hurt her so badly and who, despite everything, she could not abandon, even though his grief for her sister and the reality of their baby only magnified her own pain.

Holly jumped as the shrill sound of a pager broke the silence.

‘That’s mine,’ Mr Haggerty confirmed. ‘Excuse me a moment.’

As he reached for the phone on the desk and made a quick
call Holly met Gus’s gaze, her heart squeezing at the distant, withdrawn look in his gorgeous green eyes. The chasm between them seemed more intimidating than ever. The days ahead would be difficult, and with no idea what the future held in store she felt anxious and uncertain.

‘There’ll be other questions, I’m sure, but I think we’ve covered all we need to for now,’ the consultant said softly, putting down the phone and closing the file. ‘That was my registrar calling from PICU. They’ve finished the current tests and the baby is now settled and stable.’

‘Thank God.’

Gus’s heartfelt words and the shimmer of moisture in his eyes made Holly’s chest tighten. Her voice wavered as she asked the question she knew Gus wanted answered as urgently as she did. ‘Can we see him now?’

‘Of course,’ Mr Haggerty allowed, standing up and rounding the desk.

As Gus rose swiftly to his feet Holly followed suit, disconcerted by the frown he shot towards her. What was he thinking? Was he cross about the moment of laughter over Julia’s tattoo? Or didn’t he want her to see the baby? Filled with stubborn determination, she raised her chin in challenge. However difficult it proved to be, and however much it deepened her own pain and sense of emptiness, no one—not even Gus—would keep her from her nephew.

After offering his condolences and his continuing support, Mr Haggerty shook their hands. Then, smiling broadly for the first time, he opened the door and issued the longed-for invitation.

‘Gus, it’s time for you to meet your son.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘H
E IS
so
beautiful.’

Gus couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that formed at the awed reverence in Holly’s softly spoken words—words she had repeated countless times since they’d entered the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit and met his son.

His son
.

He would never forget the moment he’d looked at and held his child for the first time. He’d thought his heart would burst right out of his chest, and his eyes had stung with uncharacteristic tears. That the baby was stable and robust enough to be picked up had been a joyful surprise. At first he’d been terrified of hurting or dropping him, his hands seeming too large and clumsy, but he’d soon adjusted and had felt the same kind of awe and amazement Holly had expressed.

He’d also experienced an immediate welling of love. It had never happened to him before and, given his background, he’d never expected it to. He was accustomed to being alone, so when he’d come to Strathlochan the previous August and had met Holly he’d been shocked by his feelings for her and the way he’d been able to talk to her. He’d opened up to her as he never had with anyone else and, for a time, he’d dared to believe their instinctive friendship would lead to something more intimate and permanent.

But he’d been wrong.

So wrong.

He wished he could blame Holly for everything, but whilst it was true she’d lied to him, kept things from him and rejected him, he was solely responsible for his actions from the moment Julia had walked up to his table.