Risk of a Lifetime (Mills & Boon Medical) (17 page)

‘No.’

The word seemed to tear a hole in him, but it had to be said. He had to stop this thing right here, right now, before it destroyed him.

There was a heartbeat of silence before she spoke, and then her voice was quiet and matter-of-fact. ‘No, as in not tonight, or, no, as in never again?’

He forced himself to turn his head and look her in the eye. It was the least she deserved after her unstinting support of the past two and a half weeks. More.

‘No as in never again,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m sorry. We’re getting in too deep, Annie, and we’re both going to get hurt.’

Hell, what was he talking about? They were already hurting, but it was too late to turn the clock back. The damage was done.

She held his eyes steadily. ‘We don’t have to get hurt. It doesn’t have to be goodbye.’

‘No! There’s no way we’re doing this. No way I’m going to let you end up in the same position as Marnie—’

‘Have you spoken to her about it?’ she asked calmly, as if her world wasn’t falling apart around her ears. ‘Asked her how she feels? Because she wouldn’t change a minute of their lives together.’

He turned his head away. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see the love there, just waiting for him to say the word. It was ripping him apart.

‘We aren’t them. They didn’t have a choice. She didn’t know.’

‘And if she had? If they’d known they both carried the gene? They still would have married. They might not have had children, but they still would have married and shared their lives together right to the end, because they loved each other. And you know that’s true. And, anyway, it’s only speculation. You might not get it.’

His chest felt tight, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. ‘I don’t want to talk about this here,’ he said abruptly. ‘We’re at work. I can’t do it.’

He got up and walked away, his coffee barely touched, the muffin and banana lying on the bench beside her.

She finished her coffee slowly, picked up his food and took it and the coffee in to him. He was working at the desk, and she put them down beside him.

‘Here. You left these behind.’

And without saying another word, she walked off and tackled the next patient in the queue.

* * *

The next few days were strained.

Thursday was better, because he was off, and from Friday to Sunday she was off, too.

And on the Saturday evening, three weeks to the day after his grandfather had died, she realised her period was late.

Almost a week late. And she was never late. Ever. Well, only once.

She made an excuse to her mother about needing some fresh air, went out to the supermarket, bought a test and phoned Ed.

‘Are you at home?’

‘No. Why?’

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Can it wait till Monday?’

‘No. It can’t.’

She heard him sigh. ‘I’m at Marnie’s, doing some gardening. Come now, meet me at the beach hut.’

She drove to the car park on the cliff, walked down the steps and arrived at the beach hut just as he did. He was sweaty, dirty, covered in tiny bits of grass, and it was obviously the last place he wanted to be.

‘Will this take long?’

She glanced at the hut, still locked as if he didn’t want to open the Pandora’s box of memories it contained. The night he’d made love to her. The night his grandfather had died and she’d stood and held him for almost an hour in silence.

‘Not necessarily. My period’s late.’

He went chalk-white and grabbed the metal railings, bracing himself against them as if he’d been punched in the gut. She could hear the rasp of his breath, see the heaving of his shoulders as he struggled to take in the implications. And then finally he straightened and stared out to sea, his face a rigid mask.

‘How late?’

‘Five days. And I’m never late.’

He swore savagely under his breath and turned to face her, his eyes tortured. ‘This can’t happen, Annie. It can’t. The risk—’

‘You don’t even know if there is a risk.’

He sucked in his breath and recoiled, but he didn’t answer. How could he? Without getting the test results, he had no idea if he’d passed on this awful gene to the child she might be carrying. Even the thought made him want to weep for it.

Had the gene expanded? Did he even carry it? He didn’t know, and, dammit, he didn’t
want
to know, but if she was pregnant—

‘Have you done a pregnancy test?’

‘No. I’ve bought one. I’ve got it with me.’

‘Do it now. There are loos just along here.’

She followed him, and he stood outside, arms folded, heart pounding, while she went into the cubicle and closed the door. She came out a few moments later with a white wand in her hand, and they stood together and watched it.

One line.

Just one.

They waited, and waited, but there was no change, and he felt the tension leave him like the air from a punctured balloon.

‘You’re not pregnant.’ His voice sounded hollow to his ears, distorted by the pounding of his heart. He waited for the relief to kick in, but for some reason it didn’t.

‘I didn’t get a positive test last time until I was two weeks late. Positive means you’re pregnant. Negative doesn’t mean you aren’t, it means pregnancy hormones haven’t been detected, but that could be because I’m not pregnant, or because the hormone levels aren’t yet high enough.’

‘But it could mean you aren’t pregnant. You might not be.’

‘No. I might not be. But I might be. And if I am, before you even ask the question, I’m having it, and I’m not having amniocentesis either. It’s too risky and it won’t change how I feel.’

‘No, this is our baby, it’s not just down to you,’ he said, feeling backed into a corner of a room he’d never wanted to enter.

‘I think you’ll find in law it is.’

He stared at her for a second, letting her words sink in, letting it all sink in. The ramifications of it were enormous, and as it hit him, he let out a shaky breath and shook his head.

‘Annie, why are we even talking about the law?’ he asked desperately. ‘This could be our child—’

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was in his arms, wrapped hard against his chest, her shoulders shaking as she gave in to her fears, and all he could think was,
How? How can she be pregnant? How could I have been so careless? When?

There was only one possible time, when he’d been so desperate, so distracted that he might have forgotten. The night before his grandfather had died.

His arms tightened convulsively. ‘I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’

‘It’s nobody’s fault.’

‘Yes, it is. I forgot—the night before he died, in the night. I forgot.’

‘So did I. It takes two, Ed. I’m not going to let you martyr yourself over this so don’t even think about it.’

She pushed away and looked up into his face. ‘You’re disgustingly sweaty, do you know that?’ she said, but she was smiling tenderly and she lifted a hand and wiped the dirt from his cheek as if he was a grubby child, and he turned his head and pressed his lips to her palm.

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘About the sweat?’

‘About not protecting you. About the baby.’

‘We don’t know yet if there is one.’

‘No. We don’t.’ He tilted back his head and let out a sigh, and she rested her head back on his sweaty chest and hugged him.

‘Why don’t we cross one bridge at a time?’ she suggested softly, and he nodded.

‘OK, but in the meantime be careful what you eat. No caffeine, no soft cheese or prawns, no unpasteurised milk products—’

‘No alcohol, no drugs. I do remember.’

‘Are you feeling sick?’

‘A bit, but that’s probably worry.’

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Yes. Have you?’

He nodded. ‘Look, why don’t I go back to Marnie’s and put the tools away and meet you back at my house?’

‘What for? Until we have an answer, this doesn’t change anything,’ she pointed out, but his defences were breached, and he wanted her. He wanted to hold her, and talk about the future, and plan for a baby they should never have conceived and who might not even exist—

He dropped his arms and moved away a fraction, distancing himself to make it easier. ‘No. You’re right. Well—I’ll see you on Monday, then. Let me know if there’s any change.’

They checked the wand again, but there was still only the one blue line, and it took him a moment to realise that the feeling washing over him was disappointment.

He took another step back, literally and metaphorically. ‘I need to go. Where are you parked?’

‘At the top.’

He nodded, and they walked back together in tense silence. He paused beside her car, waiting till she was behind the wheel.

‘I’ll see you on Monday,’ he repeated, and closing the door for her he turned on his heel and walked away.

* * *

She wasn’t pregnant.

Or, at least, not any more. She woke on Sunday morning with cramping pain, and by lunchtime she was bleeding heavily.

An early miscarriage? It could be. She never had problem periods. Four days, max, of nothing untoward. Not like this.

Her mother found her sitting on the edge of her bed in tears, and just hugged her.

‘Want to talk about it?’

She shook her head. What could she say to her? I think I’m having a miscarriage? She hadn’t even had a positive pregnancy test. It could just be a period.

‘Go and wash your face and freshen up. I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ her mother said.

She went into the bathroom, dithered for a moment and then tried the second test in the packet, convinced it would still be negative, and it showed a faint, very faint second line.

She had been pregnant. Had been. Past tense. It was just the circulating hormones still in her bloodstream. Or had she had a threatened miscarriage, and the baby might still be clinging on? A little glimmer of hope dawned, but by nine that evening, she was sure she’d miscarried. She’d had clots, heavy bleeding and cramping pain, and she felt a sense of utter desolation.

Oh, well, at least Ed would be pleased. Not to mention ecstatic.

She’d tell him in the morning, but for now all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and howl her eyes out.

* * *

He didn’t sleep that night, or the following night.

He was too busy thinking, all the available options going round and round in his head—but there was only one option truly open to him, because if she was pregnant he couldn’t bear the suspense for the next eighteen or more years until his own son or daughter was old enough to be allowed to take the test.

An unborn foetus could be tested, and Annie had said no.

But what if the child never wanted the answer? What if it was a case of waiting for the onset of HD, either in him or in his child? He would be on tenterhooks for years, until either he or his child showed symptoms.

For the first time he had an insight into what Marnie and his brother were going through with him, and he felt sick.

No. If Annie was pregnant, there was only one option open to him, one he’d been avoiding for years.

He had to get the test results. Annie had been right when she’d accused him of running from the truth. He was. He was trying to outrun reality, and it might just have caught up with him.

It hadn’t. He walked into the department on Monday morning and bumped into Annie. She was waiting for him, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed.

‘Good news,’ she said, but her smile was wobbly and her eyes suddenly glazed and she turned away and walked off.

He ran after her, catching her arm and turning her back to face him. ‘Talk to me. What’s happened?’

‘Do you really need me to spell it out for you?’ she said sarcastically, and tugged her arm to free it.

He let her go, his heart heavy. Damn. Oddly, it didn’t feel like good news, and judging by the look on her face it hadn’t been good news for her either.

She’d wanted to have his child—dammit, he’d wanted her to have his child, and she wasn’t going to. No baby to look forward to, no reason to be with her, to stay with her and marry her and have it all. Nothing. Because she wasn’t pregnant after all, and just like that the dream had just slipped through his fingers like sand.

The realisation of all he’d lost, all he’d been hoping for, hit him like a brick wall and he had to remind himself to breathe.

God, he hadn’t even realised how much he’d wanted it—

‘Ed? Annie’s not feeling great. I think you should come.’

It was Kate, and he followed her swiftly down the corridor to the little staffroom he hardly ever used. She was in there, curled up on a chair, arms wrapped round her abdomen, rocking gently.

‘I’ll deal with it,’ he said, and he shooed Kate out and closed the door and sat down beside her.

‘Annie?’

‘I’m all right,’ she said, but she was as white as a sheet and he knew she wasn’t.

‘That’s bull. What’s going on? You look awful.’

She lifted her tear-stained face and met his eyes. ‘I’m having a miscarriage,’ she said brokenly. ‘I had a positive test yesterday, very faint. And I was bleeding heavily. I still am.’

Oh, dear God.

Her face crumpled, and he wrapped her gently in his arms and cradled her against his side, and she sobbed as if her heart was broken.

Maybe it was. His own felt torn in two, one half relieved, the other devastated at the loss of a child he’d never even known they’d conceived. Not
known
. Suspected, but not known. And he’d thought he hadn’t wanted it. Worse, he’d let her think he hadn’t wanted it.

Guilt, remorse and grief swamped him, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight against the sting of tears. ‘You shouldn’t be here, you need to go home. Is your mother there?’

She nodded.

‘Good. I’ll check you over and make sure you don’t need admitting and then I’ll take you home. We’re quiet at the moment. I’ll find a side room and do a scan and some obs. Come on.’

He helped her to her feet and steered her to an empty room and checked her over, but she was fine.

There was no sign of a foetus that he could see, although it was a bit early to tell, but there wasn’t an ectopic pregnancy, which had been his main worry. And her blood pressure and oxygen saturation were fine.