HER MIRACLE TWINS (9 page)

Rather brusquely he asked her if she would like a croissant to dip in her coffee in that disgustingly messy way.

She grinned. ‘You remembered! Of course I do. Especially if someone else is going to sort out my bed after I’ve gone. What time is the train?’

He told her. ‘So we’ll have to get a move on.’

She swallowed a piece of croissant which had just the right amount of coffee soaked into it. ‘Michel, thank you for taking care of me last night. I don’t like sleeping alone in a hotel. I felt very safe and I slept like a log.’

‘Of course you did,’ he told her, wishing she didn’t look so beautiful this morning. He’d have to be a robot not to want to take her in his arms again.

He stood up. ‘I’ll go and use the bathroom.’

‘You can have it all to yourself. Throw me a robe and I’ll disappear next door.’

* * *

The train was about to depart. Michel raced down the platform, having told Chantal to walk slowly.

He was holding out his hand to help her up the step. ‘Take your time.’

She was glad they were travelling in first class. So much more comfortable. Michel took out his laptop and became immersed in writing up notes from the conference. Even though she’d slept all night she still felt tired. Good for the baby, she told herself as she closed her eyes.

* * *

As they headed for work Michel told her to take her lunch break before reporting for duty. He was carrying her small overnight bag. ‘I’ll have this taken up to your room. But have lunch first before you go up for a nap.’

‘Michel, I slept on the train.’

‘Well, have a lie-down, then. I don’t want to see you on duty before two o clock and that’s an order.’

As she watched him disappearing into Emergency she found herself wishing he wouldn’t use that phrase! At times it amused her. She knew he only said it for a bit of fun but she hated it when he turned back into her ultra-efficient boss. She wanted the real Michel back again. She needed that warm, comforting, sexy man. The man she was trying not to fall in love with.

Because if that happened her life would change for ever and she didn’t want that to happen, did she?

CHAPTER NINE

D
URING
THE
WEEKS
that followed her obstetric appointment in Paris with Sebastian she found herself looking forward to the next appointment when she would see the scan, the technological proof that she was indeed carrying a baby. She’d seen many scans during her professional life but the excitement of seeing that image on screen would be mind-blowing for her. And also for Michel, who’d insisted he wouldn’t miss it for anything. It was in his diary and he’d rescheduled his professional commitments where necessary.

As she waited for her patient to return from X-Ray she couldn’t help wishing that Michel would be a bit more relaxed about her prenatal care. She tried to remind herself that when he fussed over her—because that was what it felt like to be told she had to take a break or she must eat lunch—she knew he was worrying about the child she was carrying. His child was all-important to him. She was merely the vessel that was carrying the baby. Well, that’s what they’d agreed, wasn’t it?

But she realised she’d broken the rules when she’d spent the night at the hotel in Paris. But the care and affection he’d shown her was his way of caring for their unborn child. She had to keep reminding herself it was their child that was important to him and not allow his concern for her welfare to overwhelm her.

Or maybe she should have a word with him. He probably didn’t realise how much it was getting on her nerves. Or perhaps she should blame it on her hormones, which made her oversensitive?

The opportunity to speak about it came sooner than she’d anticipated.

A young nurse looked into her cubicle. ‘Dr Winstone, we’ve got a child in the next cubicle with spots all over his back. Would you have a look at him for me?’

The curtain was closed again and she distinctly heard Michel speaking to the nurse in his professional director voice. She waited, not wanting to interfere.

Seconds later he came into the cubicle. ‘Chantal. I’ve told nurse to ask someone else to check the child’s spots. Obviously, in your condition you mustn’t treat any case that might be infectious.’

‘Michel, you’ve got to stop trying to wrap me in cotton wool!’

She hadn’t meant to lose her temper but now he really knew how she felt. ‘Our colleagues are beginning to talk about us. They’re asking questions about our relationship. Take that heavy man with the hernia you stopped me from treating in case I tried to move him onto his side. I know you took over and treated him yourself but that’s not the point!’

‘So what is the point you’re trying to make?’ he asked patiently. He told himself he had to make allowances for her condition. Pregnant women were prone to being over-sensitive. He would listen and try to calm her down. ‘It’s not good for the baby if you upset yourself like this.’

She took a deep breath. He’d made it quite plain that everything was for the good of the baby. He wasn’t thinking about her as a person. That shouldn’t annoy her, given the terms of their agreement, but it did.

She lowered her voice. ‘The point I’m trying to make, Michel, is that everybody will soon know we’re having a baby together. We can’t keep it a secret. Our baby will grow bigger and bigger and then it will arrive, and at that point...’

‘Don’t patronise me. I understand the situation better than you do.’

A porter was pushing his way through the curtains with her X-rayed patient.

‘See me in my office this evening before you go off duty, Dr Winstone,’ Michel said in a pseudo-stern tone as he left the cubicle.

The porter was looking perturbed by their exchange. ‘On the carpet tonight, are you, Chantal?’

‘Possibly,’ she said in her most professional voice as she took the X-rays from the nurse who’d accompanied her patient.

The patient raised his head. ‘So is my ankle broken, Doctor?’

She placed a cushion under the man’s head as she slotted the X-rays into the scanner on the wall. Pointing to the injured area, she showed him the shattered calcaneum, which had been badly crushed as he’d fallen from a tree in his garden and had taken his full weight on one leg.

She could see it would require expert pinning under general anaesthetic or with an epidural before the foot was put in a cast.

‘I’m going to ask one of the orthopaedic consultants to have a look at you. If you don’t mind waiting here a bit longer, Guillaume, I’ll have you seen as soon as I can.’

Guillaume grinned. ‘I’m not going anywhere, doctor. The branches on that tree will have to wait until I get out of here.’

Chantal smiled at him. He was a plucky man, hadn’t complained at all even though it had been obvious he’d been in pain when he’d arrived.

‘Take my advice and get a professional tree surgeon in.’

‘That’s what my wife said last week. Wish I’d listened to her.’

‘Where’s your wife now?’

‘Funnily enough, she’s on duty here in hospital. She’s a nurse on the children’s ward and hates to be disturbed when she’s on duty. Thinks it’s unprofessional if I phone her mobile, which is usually switched off anyway.’

‘Guillaume, you’ve got to let her know. With your permission I’ll contact the ward now and have her come down here.’

‘OK, got to face the music some time, I suppose.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘She’ll be so mad at me. I would have been fine if that ladder hadn’t twisted.’

Chantal was already speaking to the sister in charge of the children’s ward.

‘There, your wife is on her way, Guillaume, and I know you’ll find her very sympathetic. I’ve also arranged for a consultant to be with you as soon as he’s finished operating.’

Another nurse had just hurried into the cubicle.

‘Darling, I don’t believe it!’

Guillaume’s very concerned but flustered wife had arrived and was bending over her husband. ‘Are you OK? Oh, you shouldn’t have gone up that old ladder. I told you—’

She broke off in mid-flow and turned to Chantal. ‘Is my husband OK, Doctor?’

‘He’s fractured his calcaneum so I’ve referred him to one of our orthopaedic consultants who’ll be here shortly.’

‘Are those his X-rays?’

‘Yes.’

‘He’s going to need surgery, isn’t he?’

‘I would think so but that’s up to the consultant to decide.’

‘Of course.’

The distraught wife lavished attention on her husband, who seemed relieved that he wasn’t being reprimanded any more. In fact, Chantal could see he was positively enjoying his wife’s concern for him.

She waited until the consultant had arrived, assessed the patient and arranged to have him admitted to Orthopaedics for pre-op care.

* * *

Sitting at the computer at the end of her working day, she was typing in Guillaume’s details, having just made a call to Orthopaedics. The latest news from the ward was that her patient had had the ankle pinned under epidural and was sitting up in bed, enjoying the lavish attentions of his wife.

She heard the door opening and half turned to see who it was.

‘Ah, I believe you wanted to see me this evening, Dr Devine.’ She swung round from the computer to give him her full attention.

‘Chantal, you did realise I was joking this morning when you were treating Guillaume, didn’t you?’

‘Of course I did. But you had the porter worried. He asked me if I was on the carpet this evening.’

He smiled. ‘Have you anything more to report?’

She hesitated. She needed to clear the air, speak about their altercation while he was in a good mood. ‘Michel, I’ve got serious issues with the way you’ve been treating me since I became pregnant. I don’t mind you making fun of me but fussing about my delicate condition is definitely off limits.’

‘Not when you’re carrying my child,’ he said, quietly.

‘Our child!’

He sat down on the edge of the desk. ‘You really are annoyed with me, aren’t you? Look, it’s to be expected in the early days of pregnancy. Your hormones—’

‘There you go again.’ She lowered her voice. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my hormones.’

She stood up, folding her arms defensively in front of herself.

He strode across the room and drew her gently into his arms. For a few moments she resisted him, standing rigidly, arms like a shield in front of her. But one glance up at his amused expression broke her resolve.

‘Maybe I am being a bit over-sensitive,’ she conceded quietly.

He bent his head and kissed her, gently, persuasively, ready to agree to any terms she wanted to set if only he could make her happy again.

As he considered the enormity of what she was doing, carrying this baby for him, he found it impossible not to hold her more closely and tenderly against him. He was hoping she wouldn’t interpret his tenderness as being too possessive. He released her from his arms just in case he’d got it wrong again.

‘So remind me, what’s the date of the scan? I know it’s in my diary. Next week, isn’t it?’

‘Next Wednesday.’

‘We’ll have to make it a day trip. I’ve got an important meeting on Thursday. Could you get the scan around two in the afternoon?’

‘I’ve already booked one-thirty.’

‘Excellent. And, Chantal...? ‘ He hesitated.

‘Yes?’

‘Any time you find me patronising or fussing too much, please tell me at once. Don’t bottle it up. Keep the lines of communication open. It’s only because I’m concerned about our precious baby.’

She smiled up at him. She had such strong feelings for him now. Stronger than they should be.

* * *

The following Wednesday they had a snack on the train so that they could go straight over to see Sebastian. Michel was planning to take her out to dinner somewhere this evening when they got back to St Martin sur Mer. A celebration once they’d seen the scan. Please let it be a celebration, he thought briefly, before banishing the awful thought that it could be otherwise. How on earth did other fathers cope with all the anxiety of pregnancy? As a doctor he should be more laid-back than he was, able to face the outcome of all health situations.

* * *

As Sebastian waited for them in his consulting room he couldn’t help worrying about his former medical colleague. He’d known Chantal since she’d been a medical student and knew about her trauma last year with Jacques. That fly-by-night doctor who’d spent most of his medical career moving around from hospital to hospital on temporary contracts. The scoundrel had led Chantal to believe all his lies about being single, unattached, in love with her, wanting to marry her.

The entire medical staff who’d worked with Chantal in Paris had been scandalised when the story of Jacques’s deception had spread around the grapevine. Everyone had been sympathetic to her but, being the feisty woman she was, sympathy hadn’t been what she’d wanted. She’d given in her notice and got herself a position in Emergency at the Hôpital de la Plage, back to her family roots so that she could forget the man who’d betrayed her.

He remembered giving her a glowing reference. The Hôpital de la Plage was a prestigious hospital. There were always many applicants when a post became vacant. He’d had no hesitation in recommending her. The hospital board in Paris hadn’t wanted her to leave. They’d hoped she would reconsider her position with them as she had been in line for promotion. But Sebastian had explained the whole sordid story of Jacques’s deception.

He’d laid it on thick and had taken great delight in the fact that when Jacques’s contract had come up for renewal, his well-timed explanation of the odious man’s deception had been one of the reasons the board had refused to renew his contract.

‘Your patient is here now,’ his receptionist told him over the intercom.

‘Make them comfortable in the waiting room. I’ll call them in shortly.’

He was still checking the notes in front of him and found himself hoping fervently that Chantal knew what she was doing. He’d had time to make enquiries about her latest boyfriend and had heard nothing but good reports from those in the medical fraternity who’d worked with him. He was a high flyer, excellent at his work, highly intelligent, exceptional at diagnosing difficult cases.

He was a widower who’d been devoted to his wife but unlikely to commit himself to marriage a second time. That worried him a great deal. His wife Susanne, whom he consulted on affairs of the heart, had expressed her concern. She’d advised him to keep an eye on Chantal and make sure she didn’t get hurt again.

He went across to open the door, a confident smile in place to reassure Chantal.

‘Do come in. How was the journey? You sit here, Chantal, where I can see you. Now, how have you been since I saw you?’

Michel felt very much sidelined. There was an obvious bond of friendship between Chantal and Sebastian. That was good from the point of view that he would take special care of her. He himself had to realise that he’d done very little towards creating this pregnancy and what he’d achieved had been from a purely natural and immensely wonderful experience. So, for once in his life he had to learn to take a back seat.

There was some discussion about blood tests and haemoglobin levels. Sebastian was pleased with her general good health. He touched briefly on Chantal’s miscarriage, which had happened the previous September.

Yes, his records showed that she’d had a spontaneous miscarriage thought to have been triggered by the stress of the situation she’d found herself in. Subsequently she’d had a D and C to make sure that the inside of the uterus was healthy again and would be viable for any future pregnancy.

Chantal listened impassively to Sebastian recapping her medical history. She wanted to forget the past and move on to this pregnancy. So precious because she’d never expected it would happen to her again.

Michel was relieved to hear that she’d been well cared for after the miscarriage but he was also anxious to see the scan of their baby.

A nurse came in from the treatment room to say she was ready to do the scan whenever required.

Michel placed his hand on Chantal’s waist as they walked into the treatment room together. She found the touch of his hand reassuring. They were in this together. He was being protective towards her. If anything showed up on the ultrasound that was a problem, she could take it if Michel was with her.