Read Brought Together by Baby Online
Authors: Margaret McDonagh
‘There are so many things to think about…things to do that haven’t even occurred to me yet,’ he admitted, barely realising that in his tiredness he was slipping back into the old habit of confiding in Holly.
‘I know. And it isn’t easy. I’m so sorry, Gus. I wish you didn’t have to face all this.’ Understanding vied with the anxiety in her eyes. ‘I had to take care of all the formalities alone after my mum died, so I know what it’s like.’
‘And Julia?’
Holly looked down, hiding her expression from him. ‘She wasn’t around at the time.’
‘Not for her own mother?’
He failed to mask his disbelief, and this time Holly’s lashes lifted, her startled gaze clashing with his. ‘You didn’t know?’
‘Know what?’ he asked in puzzlement.
‘Julia and I were half-sisters,’ she explained, surprising him anew.
And yet it immediately made so much sense. He forced himself to concentrate as Holly continued.
‘Julia’s mum Marie died when Julia was three. Dad met and married my mother soon afterwards, and within the year they had me. It must have been a huge upheaval for a little girl, not understanding where her mother had gone or why the father she doted on hadn’t as much time for her.’
‘And then a new woman and a new baby came along in quick succession?’ he added, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
‘Exactly,’ Holly agreed with a small, sad smile, evidently hurting for the little girl her sister had once been. ‘It’s not surprising Julia’s nose was put out of joint.’
It explained a great deal, and Gus wondered what lasting effects those early years had had on Julia. And on her relationship with Holly. It was clear he had much yet to discover, and it threw him into even greater confusion.
‘Let me know if you’d like some company while you’re dealing with the official paperwork and things,’ Holly volunteered, reclaiming his attention. ‘And if there’s anything else I can do to help…’
‘Thanks.’
He shouldn’t take Holly up on her offer. The less time he spent in her company the better—especially while he reinforced his defences ready for when Max came home and Holly moved in. But his new responsibilities weighed heavily upon him, and the prospect of making all the decisions, including funeral arrangements, was unappealing. He was used to being alone. He always had been. But whatever difficulties lay between Holly and himself—and, as he was discovering, between Holly and Julia—she still had a right to be involved in organising the funeral.
‘It’s not only the official stuff. There’ll be preparations for Max,’ Holly added.
Gus nodded. ‘I thought I had another month to get ready. There’s so much to do. I haven’t started the nursery yet,’ he confessed, declining to mention the number of times Julia had changed her mind about what she wanted.
‘I have time off. I’d be happy to paint Max’s room,’ Holly offered tentatively.
He’d be mad to turn her down, Gus knew. He needed all the help he could get. But…Stifling a sigh, he ran a hand through his wayward hair. It seemed pointless, worrying about spending time in her company when he’d agreed for her to move into his house. However temporarily. It was the most sensible option, and the best thing for Max, but that didn’t make him like it.
‘If you don’t want me to—’
‘No, I do.’ Holly’s words brought his rushed denial. He needed the help, and if he planned well he could ensure he was out when she was there. ‘I’d appreciate it—thanks.’
She smiled shyly. ‘OK. Have you any idea how you want the nursery to be?’
‘Not really. It was Julia’s domain—’ He broke off and they looked at each other, the silence tense as reality sank in. ‘You do what you think is best.’
With the atmosphere between them less adversarial than it had been in months, Gus rose to his feet. He hated leaving Max, even briefly, but he needed a shower and a change of clothes. His stomach rumbled, making him realise how long it was since he’d eaten.
‘I won’t be long,’ he said, feeling awkward again.
Holly glanced round and gave a distracted nod before refocusing on Max. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
No. They were stuck with each other…for the time being.
As he walked away, Gus reflected on the vagaries of Fate and how quickly life could change. Julia had sparked off a chain of events that had ended tragically for her yet miraculously had delivered him his son. But it had also brought Holly back into his life. And he had no idea what the future held in store—for either of them.
CHAPTER SIX
A
S HE
poured milk into three mugs of tea, Gus looked back on the last couple of days. They’d passed in a blur of activity, with meetings, shopping and preparations, on top of spending as much time with Max as possible. He was glad of the hectic whirl…it gave him little time to brood over things.
Namely: Holly.
Whilst the reserve and awkwardness persisted, true to her word she’d remained constant in her support of him and her devotion to his son. Both he and Holly had been offered compassionate leave from the hospital. With the understanding and influence of their heads of department arrangements were being made to stagger their hours when they returned to work, cutting down the times they might need to ask friends to babysit.
That was in the future. The immediate priority was to prepare for Max’s homecoming. In the last two days, as well as shopping for supplies to decorate the nursery, they’d taken care of the official paperwork regarding Julia’s death and Max’s birth, and visited the funeral director to make arrangements to lay Julia to rest. Discovering that Holly was as keen as he to keep things simple had brought huge relief. The police had released Julia’s body, and they’d planned the funeral for Monday: both of them wanted to put that difficult event behind them before Max left the hospital.
Gus carried the mugs through to the living room and handed one to Holly and one to Officer Bruce Gourlay, the family liaison police officer assigned to them. Sitting down, Gus felt edgy and on high alert—partly due to Holly being in his home for the first time, and partly at waiting to hear if Bruce had answers to some of the questions about Julia’s accident.
‘Firstly I can tell you that technicians have examined your car and found no mechanical faults or defects…nothing to cause an accident,’ Bruce informed them. ‘There were no skid marks on the road. I’m sorry, but all the evidence suggests that under the influence of alcohol Julia either fell asleep at the wheel or her concentration was otherwise impaired.’
‘I can’t understand why she took the car.’ Gus frowned, shaking his head. ‘She must have taken the spare keys from my desk—it was no secret they were there—but anyway I didn’t think she had a licence.’
‘She did, but…’
As Holly’s words trailed off Gus looked at her, noting the way she set down her mug and clasped her hands in her lap, nibbling her lip in apparent uncertainty. Clearly she knew something. Something she felt uncomfortable revealing. But what? And if it was important why hadn’t she spoken up before?
‘But what?’ he prompted, trying not to let his impatience show.
‘Julia
did
have a driving licence, but she racked up penalty points on it,’ she informed them. A sigh escaped and she shook her head. ‘Last July she was stopped for drink-driving,’ she continued, her voice filled with emotion. ‘She lost her licence for twelve months, so she wouldn’t have been due to apply for a replacement until August or September—I don’t know the exact date. Whatever possessed her to drive, and
to drink—especially given her pregnancy? She must have known she wouldn’t have insurance while banned.’
An electric silence hummed in the room. As he digested Holly’s explanation Gus was aware once more of how little he had known his unfortunate wife. Or Holly. How many more things had the sisters hidden from him?
‘Does the name Dalziel mean anything to either of you?’ Bruce asked now, cutting across his introspection.
‘Not to me,’ Holly replied with a frown.
Gus shook his head. ‘Nor me. Why?’
‘We found an order of service sheet in Julia’s bag,’ the officer explained. ‘Paul Dalziel, a financier from Edinburgh, and his wife Claudia, were killed in a light plane crash nearly two weeks ago. Their joint funeral was held on Wednesday.’
The day Julia died, Gus realised immediately. ‘And is that where Julia had been?’
‘Yes,’ Bruce confirmed, reaching for the file that lay on the sofa cushion beside him. ‘The Dalziels’ three children, all young adults, didn’t recognise Julia, and have no idea of her connection to their parents. Witnesses at the funeral came forward in response to appeals for help with our enquiries and confirmed Julia was there.’
As the policeman opened the file and consulted the papers within Gus puzzled over the new information. Who were the Dalziels? And if they were so important to her why had Julia never mentioned them to him? Or to Holly, who appeared as much in the dark as he was? He had no answers, and frustration mounted.
Setting his mug aside, Bruce continued. ‘Julia was reported to have been extremely upset. Although no one remembers talking to her, several people recall her drinking heavily. They noticed, of course, in particular because she was heavily pregnant,’ he added with a shake of his head.
Whatever sympathy Gus had for Julia’s grief was overridden by his disgust and anger at the inexcusable way she’d risked their baby’s life—and the lives of other innocent people—by drink-driving. While banned. If only someone had challenged her, perhaps the tragedy would have been avoided. If only…
‘We also have an independent witness who had a lucky escape when he managed to avoid a collision with Julia shortly before the accident. Apparently she ran a red light and pulled out of a junction in front of him,’ Bruce explained. ‘He said she seemed severely emotionally distressed and wasn’t concentrating on the road. He immediately called the police to report the incident, giving the registration number and location, and was extremely concerned by Julia’s obvious lack of control.’
Gus was thankful that someone, at least, had tried to do something. It had been too late for the police to stop Julia before the accident. It was a miracle no one else had been hurt—or worse. Julia had paid the ultimate price. And he’d come far too close to losing his son.
The official accident report, Bruce went on, revealed that Julia hadn’t worn a seatbelt. Her judgement impaired, her reactions and decisions adversely affected by her emotional state and the alcohol, she hadn’t stood a chance. The miracle was Max. There Fate
had
been kind. Gus felt forever indebted to Frazer, Rick and the hospital specialists whose efforts had saved his baby’s life.
He had another issue to resolve, Gus realised, turning his attention to more mundane matters. His car was a write-off, and how would the insurance company react when they learned Julia had not only been driving without his permission but without a licence? Could he bear that financial hit along with everything else? He made a mental note to ask
the solicitor Holly had named, who was dealing with Julia’s affairs.
After Officer Gourlay had left, Gus felt restless. When he’d initially told Holly about the officer’s impending visit he’d proposed they go shopping for baby essentials afterwards, but that was the last thing he felt like doing now. He wanted to hold his son.
‘Go, Gus. We can shop another time,’ Holly offered with gentle understanding.
Her uncanny ability to read his thoughts scared him. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. This must be impossibly difficult for you.’ Her voice wavered, but she took a deep breath and smiled, changing the subject. ‘May I make a start on the nursery while you’re gone?’
‘Of course you can. I’d appreciate it.’
‘There’s nothing in particular you want done?’ she asked again.
‘No.’ It was one less thing to think about. ‘You decide.’
Holly’s smile tugged at his gut. ‘OK. I have some ideas.’
He pushed his curiosity away, grateful for the help and relieved she’d be working on it while he was out. Gus still felt uneasy in her presence. Part of him regretted agreeing to her moving in when Max came home, but his son came first. And, of course, he was enormously grateful for her kindness and support, however else she made him feel. In any case, he would continue to make whatever sacrifices were necessary to ensure his son’s happiness and security.
Max…Emotion welled within him. Through the stress of the past few days his son had kept him going. He was small, but the specialists were increasingly surprised by his strength and rapid recovery. Questions continued to arise about his date of conception. Gus frowned. If he hadn’t been one hundred
percent certain of the timing he might have had doubts himself, but it was the one thing he
was
positive about. He remembered nothing of the actual event, which increased his feelings of guilt and self-disgust, and he’d been paying for the mistake ever since. But all the trials, upsets and sacrifices had faded into insignificance the instant he’d seen Max and held his bruised little body in his arms for the first time.
The most important thing was that Max survived with as few long-term consequences as possible. And as each day passed it appeared his wish might come true. Max was remarkably resilient, responding well, feeding without problems, and the test results were encouraging—so much so that his son had been dubbed ‘the miracle baby’ by those involved in his care.
His
miracle baby.
Crossing to his desk, he took out a spare set of house keys. ‘You’ll need these, Holly.’
‘Thank you.’ She followed him into the hallway. ‘Give Max a cuddle from me. I’ll see him later.’
Gus hesitated and turned to her, struck by how young she looked, her face bare of make-up, a shaft of sunlight catching the soft waves of her hair and giving it a golden glow. He experienced the same shiver of awareness now that he’d felt the first time he saw her. She’d been unlike anyone he’d ever met before. And from day one she’d befriended him and taken him under her wing.
He never allowed people close—experience had taught him to trust no one but himself. Apart from Maxwell McTavish. So he’d been surprised when he’d bonded instantly with Holly, opening up to her as he never had with anyone before. Which had made her rejection even more agonising.