Bound By Their Babies: Bound by Their Babies

He nodded. ‘I know. Don’t worry, I know. She could have just brought her up to Maternity, where she would have been safe. Maybe she would have done if Ben hadn’t been there, but she should have spoken to me, handed her over, done it properly, not just dumped her like she dumps everything when she realises it’s not what she thought it was going to be.

‘That was exactly what she did with me when she changed her mind and decided she didn’t like Yoxburgh after all and didn’t want to live here. Too cold, too windy, too far from her friends. And apparently I was too obsessed with my job, which I can understand, and you’re probably right about her holding out for happy ever after, but—to leave your own daughter like that? I could never do that, and for the life of me I can’t imagine what I saw in her.’

She smiled wryly at him. ‘It’s not rocket science, Jake. You were lonely, and she was there. And I’ve seen photos, she’s lovely.’

‘No. No, you’re lovely,’ he said emphatically—so emphatically that she felt her eyes widen. ‘Honest and straightforward, decent, kind, thoughtful, considerate, and you’ll put yourself out for a friend.’

‘Well, of course I would—’

‘No, not of course. Not like you have. For God’s sake, Emily, you’ve just given up everything to help me. That wouldn’t have occurred to Jo. Sure, she’s pretty, but she can’t commit to anything, not even her own daughter, and as soon as the going gets tough, she’s off. I don’t suppose she even stopped to work out how I was going to juggle caring for Matilda with earning a living so I could put a roof over her head. She just—went.’

‘Did you ever look at the CCTV?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Ben got them to create a copy of the recordings, just in case I want to take her to court, but as I don’t have a way of doing that it doesn’t seem relevant, and anyway, I haven’t exactly had time. Besides, what’s it going to tell me? Nothing I don’t already know.’

‘No, I guess not. I’m so sorry it didn’t work for you.’

He threw her a bitter smile. ‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault I had such a massive error of judgement, but Matilda’s fine and so am I, and thanks to you and this job share I can see light at the end of the tunnel. And for what it’s worth, you’re beautiful. Right, coronation chicken, BLT or half each?’

* * *

The doorbell rang at eight that evening, and it was Ben, with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of Prosecco.

‘Just to say well done and to welcome you to the team,’ he said, kissing Emily’s cheek.

‘Are you sure it’s not to apologise for grilling us like kippers in the interviews?’ Jake asked drily from behind her, but Ben just shrugged.

‘Got to be done,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘and you both came out of it very well, so I wouldn’t let it worry you. Anyway, I won’t hold you up, I just wanted to give you these. And Daisy says if you’re ever at a loose end, either of you, she’s always looking for another adult to talk to, so give her a call and you can have a play-date with the children. And she does mean it.’

‘I might well do that,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve heard so much about her. And thank you, for the flowers and the Prosecco, but most of all for doing so much to make this happen. We’re both really grateful.’

‘My pleasure. I should give you a guided tour of the hospital, really.’

She smiled. ‘I’ve sort of had one. Don’t forget I road-tested the facilities when I had Zach, so it’s not a totally unknown quantity. And I’m sure Jake’ll help me find my feet.’

‘I’m sure he will. And I really hope this works for you both, because you’ve obviously thought it through very thoroughly, so it deserves to. And any problems, any time, my door’s always open. And I mean that. If you need help, ask.’

He kissed her cheek again, shook hands with Jake and went out, and Jake looked from her to the Prosecco.

‘Shall we celebrate?’ he asked, and she thought of all the things she’d given up—her job, her friends, her house...

No, not her friends. Jake was and always had been the only friend who really mattered to her. And the house wasn’t hers, either, it was hers and Pete’s. It had felt like a prison at times, but it had also been her sanctuary and she’d thought losing it would be hard, but when she’d gone there the other night it hadn’t felt like home any more, as if that part of her life was done.

And this—this was her new life, here with Jake and yet not with him. It was odd, unsettling, a little confusing, but it wasn’t for ever and Jake was making sacrifices, too. It wasn’t a one-way street—

‘Em?’

Putting the negatives aside and concentrating on the very many positives, she looked into Jake’s serious, searching eyes and found a smile.

‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘Yes, let’s celebrate.’

He popped the cork, poured two glasses and handed her one. ‘To the future,’ he said, and she lifted her glass.

‘To the future,’ she echoed, and shut the door firmly on the past.

* * *

It took until the end of the following week to sort out the contracts and shuffle patient appointments to accommodate their new arrangement, and in that time Jake moved all his stuff from the bathroom to the downstairs shower room, decorated the bathroom and started on the room that would be Zach’s, ready for him to move into.

It was just a quick coat of paint, but it made him feel slightly better about the sacrifices Em was having to make.

‘You don’t have to do this for me,’ she said, bringing him tea after she’d fed Zach and settled him for the night.

‘Yes, I do.’ He put the brush down, got off the ladder and took the mug from her. ‘I want you to feel at home, and I’ve been in your home, and it’s beautiful, and this place is a mess.’

‘It’s a glorious mess. Our house is dull in comparison.’

Our house.

He looked away. ‘I didn’t think it was dull. I thought it was lovely.’

‘It is, but it hasn’t got the high ceilings or the original fireplaces or any of the other things the Victorians were so good at.’

‘What, like the rattling windows and the leaky roof and the fact that the floor’s slightly wonky in the kitchen because the back of the house has sunk?’

She grinned at him. ‘It’s all part of its charm.’

He snorted. ‘It’s nearly summer, Em. You wait till the winter. You might want to reassess when the wind’s shrieking off the North Sea and pouring in round the edges of the window frames.’

‘Oh, you paint such a glorious picture! We can wear thick jumpers and snuggle up under fleecy blankets. And anyway, fresh air’s good for you. So, what can I do?’

‘Keep me company,’ he said, trying not to think about snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket. ‘Cutting in round the edge is boring.’

‘Want me to roller the walls?’

‘Be my guest,’ he said, so she joined in and they finished Zach’s bedroom together, and all the time he reminded himself that it should have been Pete doing it. Pete painting their baby’s bedroom with her. Pete snuggling up with her under a fleecy blanket—

‘Right, we’re done. I’m going to wash this lot before the paint ruins them.’

‘Want a hand?’

‘No, you’re all right,’ he said, suddenly feeling the need for space, because it was beginning to dawn on him that, for the next several years at least, he was going to be sharing every detail of his house, his work, his life with another man’s woman.

The woman he loved, he finally admitted to himself. The only woman he’d ever really loved, the woman he wanted with all his heart. How the hell had it taken him so long to work out how much she meant to him? All those wasted years—and now he’d be living and working alongside her, with her and yet not with her, and it was going to be way, way tougher than he’d realised...

* * *

The contracts signed, they went to her house that weekend before she started work on the Monday, and while the children played on the floor with Zach’s toys, Jake dismantled the cot and loaded it into his car, together with all Zach’s clothes and toys and all the baby equipment she hadn’t already taken over there. While he did that she packed up all the food in the kitchen, throwing out the dregs of packets, the oddments of jam and chutney in the fridge, the last few bags of green tea that had been all Pete would drink in his last days, lurking in the back of the cupboard behind some out-of-date coffee beans.