Their pregnancy gift, p.9
Their Pregnancy Gift, page 9
Neither of them had signed up for this.
But no way was he going to start a relationship where he could end up being a burden to his partner. He wasn’t selfish like his biological father. He’d been brought up by a kind, decent man, and he’d do the right thing by Dani and their baby.
He knew what he needed to do right now. She looked lonely and lost and defeated. He needed to reassure her. Hold her close, like she’d held him close when he’d felt lonely and lost and defeated. So he stood up, went over to her chair, scooped her up and sat down in her place, settling her on his lap with his arms wrapped round her. ‘Neither of us bargained for this,’ he said. ‘Neither of us has a clue what’s going to happen or what we do next. But I do know one thing: I’m not going to walk away from my responsibilities. I’ll be there for you and the baby.’
Tears formed in her eyes. ‘How? We’re not even a couple.’
‘And we can’t be, if I have Huntington’s. That’s not negotiable.’ He knew he was being stubborn and difficult, but he just couldn’t budge on that point. It was too important.
‘Alex, it could be years and years before you start to get symptoms. In that time, researchers could find a cure, or at least a way to manage the condition or slow it down.’
‘They can manage some of the symptoms now,’ he said dryly. ‘But you have to be realistic. Most people get forty years of good health before they start getting symptoms. I’m thirty-five. That gives me five years before it starts, Dani. Supposing I have it but I didn’t pass it on to the baby, and we go ahead with the pregnancy—the baby won’t even have started school by the time I start getting symptoms.’
‘If you have it,’ she said. ‘And that’s a fifty-fifty chance.’
‘You said it yourself—the risk of the baby having it is huge, and my risk is twice as high,’ he said softly. ‘And you need to be realistic about what could happen. I know this is all going to sound really bleak, but it needs facing.’ And the best way for her to do that was to hear directly it from him. ‘If Stephen passed the faulty gene to me, then I’ll need medication for mood swings and depression. I’ll need medication to manage involuntary movements, and occupational therapy to help me as my motor skills decline. I’ll need help managing my food, from turning everything into soup to eventually needing a PEG feed. And then there’s communication—speech difficulties are often one of the first things to occur, and the cognitive problems vary from moment to moment. I might be able to make an articulate request to you over breakfast, and then five minutes later I won’t be able to repeat it. I won’t have the words or anything approaching them. It’s going to be frustrating, both for me and anyone trying to communicate with me, and with the mood difficulties as well I might not be able to control an aggressive response,’ he warned.
‘Was that what it was like for Stephen?’ she asked.
Alex nodded. ‘His partner was really kind. He was at the stage where he couldn’t communicate very well and Catriona really helped me to talk to him. But I could see the strain on her, Dani. She loved him enough to stay, but seeing him decline a little bit more every single day and not being able to do anything to stop it—it was killing her.’ He blew out a breath. ‘The first time I saw Stephen, he could only really communicate with me via a picture board. The second time, he was having a good day and could manage a few words. But by the time I met him he needed full nursing care, Dani. He needed someone to wash him and dress him and feed him. He needed someone to lift him into a chair and push him around. He couldn’t do a single thing for himself. And I would really, really hate to be that helpless. To put that kind of burden on the woman I love.’ He held her close. ‘What I’m saying is that there’s a very real chance I don’t have a future. But in the meantime I’m going to do my best to be there for you and the baby. I’ll support you every step of the way for as long as I can.’
‘What if the baby has Huntington’s?’ she asked.
‘Right now we have a three in four chance of that not being the case.’
She didn’t say it, but he could see it in her eyes. That risk wasn’t anywhere near low enough.
‘I’ll ring my family doctor for an appointment tomorrow and I’ll ask him to refer me for testing,’ he said. ‘And we’re going to have to take this thing day by day. In a few weeks we might have to make a really horrible decision—but it’ll be an informed decision and we’ll talk it through and we’ll make that decision together.’ He leaned his forehead against hers. ‘In another life I wouldn’t be Stephen’s biological son, I’d be Will’s, and you and I would’ve planned this baby and both been thrilled about that pregnancy test. Or even if the baby wasn’t planned we would’ve been able to share the joy, once we’d got over the shock of the news. I’m so sorry I’ve taken that joy away from you.’
She stroked his face. ‘It’s not your fault.’
Oh, but it was. ‘I can’t promise you that the future’s going to be OK. Until we get the test results back, we won’t know anything for sure,’ he said. ‘But I promise you I’ll be there for you. Have you made an appointment yet with your GP?’
‘No. I wanted to talk to you first.’
He nodded. ‘If you want me to go with you, then I will.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ She paused. ‘If you want me to go with you to any of the genetics stuff, then I will. Because this goes both ways, Alex. You need as much support as I do.’
‘I can’t ask that of you.’
‘You’re not asking me. I’m telling you it’s how it is. We’re in this together.’
‘That’s the whole point. If I have Huntington’s, I don’t want to be a burden.’
‘And if you don’t?’
‘Then...’ He blew out a breath. ‘Then it’s a different matter.’
‘We might be parents next summer.’
Which told him that for her, if the baby didn’t have Huntington’s, a termination wasn’t an option. Though that was the way he felt, too. And now he knew he might be a father... He’d had a happy childhood. Idyllic, even. He’d grown up feeling loved, and he wanted the same for his own child. Yet how could he burden his child with having to watch his condition deteriorate, feeling helpless because there was nothing anyone could do to cure him? Wouldn’t the baby be better off not knowing him?
‘We might,’ he said guardedly.
‘And yet we barely know each other.’
Because the baby was an unexpected result from one night of comfort. They weren’t in love with each other. They were attracted to each other, and he knew he liked her. What he wasn’t sure about was what she thought about him. If she liked him, too, was that enough to make a solid relationship? And was that even what she wanted, or did she think they could work something out about the baby without having to live together and try to make a family?
‘I can’t promise you a future. Not right now,’ he said. ‘But we can do something about not knowing each other very well. I’ll start. I’m an only child, my dad’s a retired orthopod and my mum’s a part-time coffee shop manageress, and they live on the other side of London.’
‘I’m an only child, too,’ she said. ‘My mum’s a history teacher and my dad’s an accountant. They live in Surrey.’ She paused. ‘What else do you want to know?’
‘If you weren’t a doctor, what would you be?’
‘A forensic scientist,’ she said promptly, ‘and I’d be one of the ones who does facial reconstructions from skeletons.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s very specific.’
‘Mum’s a history teacher,’ she reminded him. ‘I guess I inherited her love of history. When I was really little, I wanted to be an archaeologist. I can remember going up to Northumbria on holiday and seeing Hadrian’s Wall and all the shoes and the letters at Vindolanda, and wondering what the people who lived there and wore the shoes and wrote the letters looked like. Then we went to Bamburgh and I was allowed to help the archaeologists in a little tiny bit of the dig. I didn’t actually find anything, but I loved being able to help, and the archaeologist made a bit of a pet of me and let me handle things they’d just found.’ She smiled. ‘There was this little bronze hippo that fitted into my palm. It was so amazing. And I spent the rest of the holiday digging holes in the beach, trying to find a hippo of my own.’
He could just imagine it, and it charmed him.
And he had to damp down the sudden surge of longing at the idea of having a daughter who looked like Dani and who dug holes in the beach, trying to find lost treasure. He couldn’t let himself bond with this baby. Not until they all knew where they stood.
‘We used to go to the beach on holiday, too, when I was small; but it was always Cornwall and always involved building sandcastles,’ he said. ‘My granddad—mum’s dad—loved military history, so they were never just your four basic buckets as towers with a little bit of wall in between. Our castles were always proper motte-and-bailey ones, with massive ramparts.’ He smiled back at her. ‘So I guess if I hadn’t been a doctor I might’ve ended up being a builder, the sort who restores ancient buildings.’
‘So there’s one thing we have in common, then. A love of history.’
‘And beaches.’ He paused. ‘Here’s another one for you. Dog or cat?’
‘Dog,’ she said promptly. ‘That was what I missed most about home when I was a student. I could talk to Mum and Dad, and send texts and photographs to their phones, but I really missed curling up with the dog when I was reading, or taking the dog out for a walk in the middle of a revision session to clear my head. I think that’s why I started running in the park; it meant if I went to a park that had a dog area I could stop and chat to the owners and make a fuss of their dogs.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Which is possibly a bit wet of me.’
‘No, it’s not.’ He liked this softer side of her. And he could just imagine her walking through the park, pushing a baby in a pram with a dog trotting alongside her. He shook himself mentally; he couldn’t let himself go too far along with that fantasy and imagine what their baby might be like, not when they still might have a hideous decision to make. He’d already had to pull himself back from the idea of having a daughter. ‘What sort of dog?’
‘A liver and white English springer spaniel, like the ones I grew up with,’ she said promptly. ‘What about you? Dog or cat?’
‘Dog,’ he said.
‘What sort?’
‘Golden retriever. Ours was big and soft and fluffy, and she thought she was a lapdog. So you’d have thirty kilos of dog sprawled on your lap, whether you wanted it or not.’ He smiled at the memory.
‘She sounds gorgeous,’ Dani said. ‘What was her name?’
‘Sally.’
‘Ours was Oscar,’ she said. ‘Mum and Dad decided not to replace him when he died. But I think they’ll get another when they retire. Maybe something smaller and less busy than a springer, but I think Mum really misses having a dog.’
It sounded as if Dani really missed having a dog, too. Had she had a dog with her husband, and her ex had claimed the dog as part of the divorce settlement? Alex didn’t want to rub salt in her wounds by asking. But it was another bit of common ground between them. The more he was finding out about her, the more he thought they might be compatible. That they might have a chance of a future together.
‘OK. We have history and dogs in common. And you’re a runner.’
‘From the way you just said that, I assume you’re not?’ she asked.
‘Not outdoors,’ he said. ‘I run on a treadmill as a warm-up at the gym, but I’d much rather do a weights session. It clears my head better.’
‘Give me cardio any day. Dance aerobics, or a bit of plyo—I’ve really missed not being able to do burpees and jumping onto a box.’ She smiled. ‘So we’re opposites on exercise. What else do you do for fun?’
He shrugged. ‘Video games.’
She groaned. ‘Don’t tell me—the shoot-’em-up type?’
‘’Fraid so. You?’
‘I’m not really a gamer. Though I do like sudoku puzzles. That’s my usual vice before bed—three puzzles.’
‘Mine’s cryptic crosswords at the breakfast table,’ he said. ‘How about reading?
‘Crime novels. Preferably ones with a forensic scientist, though there’s a series I really love with a forensic archaeologist,’ she said. ‘You?’
‘Thrillers. I’m a big Lee Child fan,’ he said.
‘So we’re sort of on the same page,’ she said with a smile.
He groaned. ‘I’m ignoring that terrible pun.’
‘What, not even the glimmer of a smile, Dr Morgan?’ She batted her eyelashes at him.
Alex couldn’t help smiling. In other circumstances, he would’ve kissed her. But he needed to keep a little distance between them. Even though that probably counted as shutting the stable door when the horse had run to the other side of the country, given that right now she was pregnant with his baby.
‘I’ve got another one. Foodie or not bothered?’ she asked.
‘Eating out, I’d probably go for the foodie option,’ he said. ‘Eating in... I tend to cook very simple things that don’t take a lot of time.’ He looked at her. ‘Though I noticed there’s a shelf of cookery books in your kitchen, so I’m guessing you’re foodie all the way.’
‘Yup. I buy pomegranate molasses and actually use it,’ she said. ‘It’s another thing that relaxed me when I was a student. Cooking something complicated, so I had to concentrate on that and let all the stuff I’d revised percolate into my brain, or else I’d burn dinner.’ She grinned. ‘It was great. I’d cook for everyone, we’d share the costs—and because I cooked it meant I could weasel out of doing the washing up. Wins all round.’
God, he really liked this woman.
Please let the test results be on their side. Because he was beginning to think that a life with Dani would be a very good life indeed.
‘How about music?’ he asked.
‘Anything I can sing along to. You?’
‘Indie rock,’ he said. ‘And blues guitar—Dad loves Peter Green, so I grew up with that and John Mayall playing in the car.’
‘Sounds good. Another one for you: theatre or cinema?’ she asked.
‘Cinema, and I like suspense movies,’ he said. ‘You?’
‘Both. Because I really, really like musicals, and they’re awesome on stage.’
He looked at her, surprised. ‘Seriously?’
‘I’m word-perfect on Mamma Mia! and Grease,’ she said with a grin. ‘Come with me next time one of them’s on in the West End.’
‘Can’t. I’ll be babysitting.’ The words came out before he could stop them.
‘Nice excuse,’ she said. And then her smile faded as she clearly realised what he meant.
Babysitting their baby.
Except they didn’t know whether their baby was going to have the bad gene. Or what they’d decide to do.
‘How is this going to work out, Alex?’ she asked.
He sighed. ‘I haven’t a clue. Once we’ve got the test results, we’ll have a better idea of what our real options are. Until then, I guess we have to take it day by day and try not to think about it.’ He stroked her face. ‘All that stuff people say about a problem shared being a problem halved—that’s not true. In our case it’s a problem doubled.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault. It’s circumstances,’ he said.
‘It’s not your fault either,’ she said, as if guessing what was in his head.
He rather thought it was, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her. Instead, he said, ‘So are you getting any kind of early pregnancy symptoms?’
‘Yes and no.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I was just feeling a bit under the weather. I thought maybe I was going down with a bug, because that was the only reason I could think of why I wouldn’t fancy celebrating Hayley’s run with coffee and pastries; but then on the way home it occurred to me that my period was two weeks late. With the build-up to the race, and being busy at work, and having that wretched walking cast, I’d completely lost track of the date. I did the pregnancy test to prove to myself that I was being totally unreasonable and ridiculous—that I was just late because I was busy and stressed.’
‘Except you got the result you weren’t expecting.’
‘And I didn’t know how you were going to react—especially in the circumstances.’
‘I’m still getting used to the idea,’ he said. And it was growing on him. Scarily so. He needed to keep the brakes on until he knew what the situation was with his own health. ‘But you and the baby are my responsibility. That’s not going to change.’
‘I’m an adult. I’m responsible for myself,’ she said.
‘What I mean is I’ll support you,’ he said. ‘Whatever decisions we have to make, we’ll make them together.’
* * *
Dani liked the fact that Alex had immediately accepted his share of responsibility for the situation. The fact that he’d support her with the baby.
But what about them?
Did their relationship stand a chance? She knew he’d keep her stubbornly at a distance until he’d got the result back of his own genetic test—hadn’t he broken his engagement for exactly that reason?—but, if the test was negative, did they have a chance to make a real go of things between them?
The more she got to know him, the more she liked him.
And she was definitely attracted to him.
But she’d made that mistake with Leo. She’d fallen in love with a man who’d fallen very quickly out of love with her. If she let herself fall for Alex, what if he ended up feeling the same way about her that Leo had? What if he thought she was bossy and impossible and couldn’t stand to be with her? What if he tried to love her and couldn’t—because the truth was that she was unloveable? She really didn’t want to risk her heart again.
