HER MIRACLE TWINS (7 page)

* * *

She finished writing her end-of-the-day report and switched off her computer. They’d gradually treated all the patients from the RTA and the normal influx of patients. It had been a long day. A long day following a long night. She would have an early night tonight.

‘I thought I might find you here.’

Chantal looked up enquiringly as Michel walked in. ‘Did you want to see me?’

He perched on the edge of the desk. ‘I’ve been invited to a medical conference in Paris, which starts tomorrow. I had it pencilled in to go over and give a paper there on one of the days, but they’ve just contacted me to ask if I can be there from tomorrow and stay for the whole of the conference.’

‘One of the perks of the job,’ she observed dryly. ‘How long will you be in Paris?’

‘A couple of weeks, possibly longer. Actually, we’ll be working hard all the time.’

‘Of course you will. And who will be in charge of the department while you’re away?’

‘The staffing agency is attempting to find a consultant to replace me.’

She stood up. ‘I’m sure we’ll cope without you.’

‘I’m sure you will.’

In a way a break from constantly seeing Michel on a day-to-day basis was what she needed. She would find it hard and would miss him terribly. But at the back of her mind there was a problem that had been niggling her all day. She’d only admitted it to herself when she’d taken a short coffee break in the middle of the afternoon.

They’d made love last night using no protection. She knew the rhythms of her own body as she’d tested the most fertile period in her menstrual cycle before she’d got pregnant with Jacques.

And last night she’d been at her most fertile. If she’d conceived a child naturally, how would that affect their plan? If she’d conceived during their romantic lovemaking then their whole relationship would change, wouldn’t it?

‘Are you all right, Chantal?’

He was coming round the desk. She forced herself to stand so that she could escape while she was thinking rationally. If he came any closer, if he bent his head near to her as he was doing now...

‘I’ve had a long day, that’s all.’

She turned her cheek towards him so that they could say goodbye in the typically French way of a chaste kiss on both sides of the face.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she told him breathlessly as the touch of his lips disturbed her more than she’d anticipated.

‘Goodnight, Chantal,’ he said quietly as he reached the door before she did. He held it open for her. ‘Have a good evening.’

‘And you, Michel. I hope all goes well at the conference.’

He leaned against the door after she’d gone, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He was glad they’d been sensible just now. Even lightly touching her skin with his lips had disturbed him. Yes, he was going to need more self-control to ensure the original plan was going to work. It was just as well they were going to be separated for a couple of weeks. By the time he got back he would have completely forgotten their night of heavenly madness.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
S
SHE
LAY
in her lonely single bed in the medics quarters her thoughts turned to the wonderful night of passion she’d spent with Michel a few days ago. She remembered how they’d had to work together the next day. She’d forced herself to give all her attention and expertise to the patients she had treated. Then in the evening as she had been preparing to go off duty he had told her he had to be in Paris the next day for a conference.

In a way she felt relieved that they would have space between them for a couple of weeks. The brief discussion they’d had when they’d had breakfast together on the morning after their impromptu night of lovemaking had reinforced the idea that they should stick to their original plan. No commitment to each other, parents of convenience. It was easy to say but she was going to find it difficult to implement.

Even now, after just a few days of Michel’s absence in Paris, she found herself looking forward to his return. She realised that however she tried to think otherwise, the events of that evening had affected everything they’d planned.

They’d both agreed they wanted to keep their independence, their single status. They would make a baby together, be the most caring parents it was possible to be, given the unconventional circumstances and also the busy professional and domestic lives they would lead. But having thrown caution to the wind and spent the night together, it was difficult for her to forget.

She got out of bed and went over to the window. It was already after midnight but sleep was a long time coming tonight. Dim lights showed in all the wards. She could make out one of the operating theatres, lights blazing as an emergency operation was taking place. An ambulance was pulling up by the entrance to Emergency. One of the night porters and a nurse were already waiting. The hospital never slept, a bit like her at the moment.

She climbed back into bed, leaving the window wide open. There was no air-conditioning in her room. Even a single cotton sheet made her feel too warm. She wondered if Michel was sleeping peacefully in Paris or was he awake, worrying about their relationship? Maybe he was enjoying the bright lights of Paris. There was no reason why he shouldn’t. There was no place in her life for jealousy, she told herself firmly. They had no commitment to each other.

She sighed as the sound of an ambulance outside the hospital brought her back to the real world again. The last few days hadn’t been easy, especially when she felt as if she was in limbo with the possibility that she might be pregnant already.

They’d only meant to discuss creating a baby by donor insemination. They hadn’t meant to go the natural, romantic, intimate way. That usually meant committing to each other far more than they’d meant to do if they were to retain their independence.

She turned over in her bed as she considered the implications. If, in fact, she was pregnant already, that could have a significant effect on their future relationship.

Sleep came eventually but in the morning she had to admit that she was finding these restless nights were depleting her strength. Maybe when her period came she could relax again.

If it comes
, said the small nagging voice in her head.

* * *

She made sure she was totally professional and efficient during the time Michel was in Paris. The replacement director was good at his job, very helpful and easy to work with. She didn’t have time to worry about her personal life as the days passed very quickly. It was only at night she found herself worrying about her relationship with Michel.

She told herself there was nothing she could do about it until he came back from Paris, which would be within the next few days. Michel had phoned to say he and a few of his colleagues were extending their time in Paris for professional reasons. And why not?

The day her period was due came. No period. Not surprising, considering the way she was worrying. She told herself to relax. Two weeks had passed since she’d spent the night with Michel. She would nip out during her lunch-break and pick up a pregnancy kit at the pharmacy.

That evening she shut herself in her small bathroom.

She stared at the thin blue line. Positive. It could be a mistake, but it was unlikely. Modern pregnancy tests were almost one hundred per cent accurate. She had a gut feeling that it was correct. If they’d been planning natural conception on that fateful night, they couldn’t have made more effort.

Her initial reaction was that she should phone Michel on his mobile. She reached for hers as she pulled on her slippers then stopped herself from making the call. He would be back from Paris soon. It would be better to tell him face to face. He could be having a night out to celebrate the end of the conference. He wouldn’t want her babbling something over the phone about...

Her ring tone was playing. She checked. It was Michel.

She took a deep breath. ‘Michel, you must be telepathic. I was just going to call you.’

‘Anything in particular?’

It was so good to hear his voice again. ‘Just checking when you’re coming back. We need to talk.’

‘Well, that’s why I’m calling. I’m still working tomorrow morning with a couple of colleagues, tying up loose ends, speaking to the press—that sort of thing. I wondered if you could come over on the train so we could visit your clinic? Do you think you could make an appointment?’

‘I could try.’

Her mind was jumping around all over the place. It would be reassuring for her to see her friend and former colleague Sebastian, the director of the clinic. He was an obstetrician/gynaecologist who would give them good advice about the dilemma they’d brought upon themselves. She felt so confused. Maybe it was her pregnancy hormones kicking in but she couldn’t think straight. Half of her was completely thrilled about her pregnancy while the other half, the sensible half, was worrying about all the implications.

‘Will your boss give you a couple of days off?’

‘A couple of days?’

‘Well, you’ll need to stay the night and we can travel back together the next morning. In fact, if you can’t get an appointment at the clinic tomorrow afternoon, try for the following morning. OK? I’ve got to go, Chantal.’

She could hear voices in the background and music as he gave her details of where they should meet. She wasn’t jealous of him enjoying an evening in Paris, was she? Jealousy where their relationship was concerned must be ruled out at all costs.

She cut the connection and phoned the clinic in Paris.

* * *

Paris was always exciting when she arrived after being away for a while. As she stepped off the train and made her way through the crowds the indescribable hub of sound enveloped her. The sights and sounds and even the smell of Paris were unique. She still thought of it as coming home. Her little apartment in the sixteenth arrondissement would be empty.

While she’d been on the train she’d phoned her mother, who was taking an extended vacation near Bordeaux, to tell her she was going to Paris for a couple of days and would call in to see her and probably stay the night. Did her mother want her to send on her mail? Not necessary. Apparently the concierge was already sending everything for her.

The good thing about her mother was that she didn’t ask probing questions. Never had. She just let her daughter get on with her life. As soon as she’d gone into her teens she’d felt independent—until Jacques had come along. And now there was Michel. Totally different situations to deal with. She shouldn’t compare them.

* * *

She hurried down the steps of the Metro. The intense warmth and stuffiness of the Metro got worse the lower she went. It was great in winter but overwhelming on a hot summer day like this. Jumping on the train as the doors were about to close, she felt the welcome rush of air-conditioning. That was better.

She’d always liked jumping on to the Metro and setting off on a journey. Her mother had allowed her to travel by herself from her early teens, having coached her about possible dangers from an early age when they’d travelled together.

It had always been exciting to be travelling by herself. Another step in her independence had been when, soon after she’d qualified as a doctor, her mother had bought the apartment next to her own and given it to Chantal.

It seemed to her that after the years of financial struggle her mother had experienced she loved to take care of her only child. She’d been a teacher all her life but now in her retirement, with a decent pension and a chunk of savings, she could afford to be generous. Chantal felt truly blessed to have such a mother.

As the train drew to a halt at Ranelagh station she was still thinking about what a success her mother had made of her life. Bringing up a child as a single mother had been tough. Chantal was glad her mother could now afford to take long holidays like the one she was enjoying at the moment in Arcachon on the coast near Bordeaux.

She emerged from the stuffy depths of the Metro and turned along the Avenue Mozart. She knew the sixteenth arrondissement from her childhood. Her mother had taught at the Lycée Molière and so they’d based themselves in an apartment nearby.

She had no problem finding the name of the hotel Michel had given her. She gave his name to the concierge, who handed the internal phone to her when he’d established contact.

Michel arrived in the lobby shortly after they’d spoken. She could feel the nervous tension between them as they exchanged chaste kisses on the cheek, like distant friends meeting after a long period of time.

‘Have you had lunch?’

‘A snack on the train.’

‘Do we have an appointment at the clinic?’

She nodded. ‘Three o’clock.’ She handed him the address. ‘It’s not far. Would you like to walk and get some fresh air? It’s a lovely day out there and I’ve been cooped up on trains all morning.’

She was beginning to feel quite faint. She took a deep breath.

He put a hand on the back of her waist as they went out into the street. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine.’

He took hold of her hand as they walked together. She began to feel stronger. She decided she wouldn’t tell him about the pregnancy test while they were walking. They had plenty of time before their appointment. There would be time to find an opportunity before they went in to see Sebastian.

After several streets with high-rise apartments that blocked out the sunshine they came to the edge of the Bois de Boulogne. The sun filtered through the leaves of the majestic trees towering above them as they skirted along the roadside path.

She pointed out the clinic in the distance. The closer they got the more it began to look like a private house.

‘That’s exactly what it is. Sebastian and his wife Susanne have lived there all their married life. They brought up four children there and now there’s often a sprinkling of grandchildren playing in the garden.’

Michel looked around him as they were ushered into a comfortable waiting room. It didn’t seem like a clinic. A welcoming sort of place. He smiled his approval at Chantal.

‘I’m glad you chose somewhere far away from our hospital,’ he whispered as they sank down into a couple of squashy armchairs.

‘Absolutely,’ she whispered back. There was another couple across the other side of the room within earshot. She hoped they would go in soon so that she could tell Michel her news. The burden of her secret was beginning to make her nervous. The sooner they could discuss the implications, the better.

The door to the consulting room opened and Sebastian came out, smiling broadly as he extended his hand towards them. ‘Chantal, so good to see you.’

As she introduced Michel she saw a second consulting-room door open and the other couple were being ushered in. Of course Sebastian would employ other doctors to work with him nowadays. Too late to break her news to Michel now.

‘So fill me in about what you’ve been up to since we last met.’

She leaned forward in the armchair and looked across at Sebastian. As succinctly as possible she explained that she and Michel were good friends and colleagues who, having lost their partners, regretted the fact that they weren’t parents and had decided to explore the possibility of having a baby together through donor insemination.

‘So you want to obviate the normal course of having a sexual relationship and a commitment to each other?’

‘Exactly!’ Michel leaned forward now they’d got that out of the way. ‘I will be the sperm donor and Chantal will carry the baby. We do have our reasons.’

Sebastian smiled reassuringly. ‘I don’t need to know your reasons unless you want to discuss them with me.’

He waited to give them a few moments to consider his words.

Chantal knew this was where she had to intervene. The fact that she was already pregnant was overwhelming her.

‘There’s something I have to tell you before we go any further, Sebastian. It’s a very recent development but extremely relevant.’

She was desperately aware that both men were staring at her now.

Michel’s face was a total enigma. As he looked at her fumbling uneasily with her words he suddenly had a blinding flash of intuition. He knew the truth.

He swallowed hard as she managed to speak again.

‘I’m already pregnant!’

* * *

It was so good to be walking along the leafy footpath again. They’d spoken very little to each other since her announcement. At first Sebastian had been overjoyed at what she told him, saying that solved their problem didn’t it?

Both she and Michel had affirmed that they would have to rethink their relationship. Somewhat bewildered, Sebastian had suggested they go away and come back to see him in when Chantal was about three months pregnant. By that time he could scan Chantal’s abdomen and everything would be clearer, relationships, prenatal care and so forth. He’d had only one question to ask regarding the conception. Was Michel the father of this child?

As Chantal sat down on a wooden bench with a view of the Lac Superieur, the larger of the two lakes in the Bois de Boulogne, she could see a man sweating hard as he rowed past. His sweetheart, lover, wife, whatever, was fanning herself with a magazine in the back of the boat. Romance was everywhere in the summer.