And why did she want Mark right now? Heaven forbid, she wasn’t somehow, in some unbelievably stupid way, rekindling feelings for him? No, she reassured herself, it was because, even though Mark was completely annoying, he knew her. He could rile her, but he also understood how to comfort her. And he knew about the baby. And he was dependable. The thought surprised her. Yes, Mark was, for all his faults, dependable, if you really needed him. And, right now, he was pretty much the only person she felt that way about.
‘Chloe?’ A nurse’s head popped around the door. ‘The taxi your dad ordered is here.’
‘What?’ Chloe was taken aback. ‘He’s not my dad.’
The nurse shrugged, uninterested. ‘Well, whoever he is, he’s come to collect you. You ready to go?’
Chloe nodded. The nurse came in with a wheelchair, then helped Chloe off the bed and into it. ‘Remember, straight into bed when you get home, okay?’ she said. ‘Now, here are your ultrasound pictures.’
Chloe took the proffered envelope as though it might explode in her hand. Then, gingerly, she pulled out the contents, and stared at the black and white outlines of her baby. She could make out a nose, a spine, even fingers. She laughed in wonder as her eyes moistened. It was the first time she had felt anything like happiness in weeks. ‘Hello, little one,’ she said, stroking her tummy while staring at the irrefutable evidence that there was another life inside her to think about now.
She pushed the pictures back into the envelope as David came in and spoke to the nurses, then was given her belongings. He looked smaller somehow in the hospital, and his crisp pinstriped suit stood out incongruously against the white jackets. It was as if he’d lost the ability to frighten her here, like she suddenly saw through the whole charade of power that was behind labels such as ‘boss’ and ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ and ‘doctor’. It reminded her of the first time she’d seen her mother in this way, stripped of the thin façade of parenthood that maintained the proper distance between mother and daughter, realising she was fallible after all. The image was disconcertingly incomplete, and Chloe shrugged it away quickly.
David took the handles of her chair, and she let him wheel her to the entranceway, feeling mortified, the silence between them not helping. At the taxi’s door she got up, swayed slightly, and he put a steady hand underneath her elbow to help her rebalance. She was aware of the hand and held that side of her body stiff, wanting to pull away but keen not to appear rude.
The silence continued on the journey, until they drew up at the house. All Chloe wanted was to exit the car as quickly as possible and run inside, locking the world out. But as she made to get out, so did David.
He followed her wordlessly up to the front door. Her hands trembled as she twisted the key, and she left the door open, aware of his presence behind her as she made her way up the hall.
Once in the kitchen, she tried to appear normal. ‘Tea?’ she enquired breezily.
‘Sit,’ David commanded, pointing to a chair. ‘I’ll do it. You’re meant to go to bed.’
He moved deftly to the sink and filled the pot. Chloe watched him, marvelling at his ease in an unfamiliar kitchen. She always felt awkward when in someone else’s territory, never sure of the correct mix of etiquette between unobtrusive and helpful.
‘I’m sorry, David,’ she said. ‘This is a terrible time for you to be out of the office.’
He held up a hand, turning to face her. ‘Here’s what I know. We are expecting great things from you and Mark Jameson, and over the past ten years you have never let us down…’
Chloe thought back to the law ball dance floor and the look on David’s face as he’d chastised them in his office afterwards, but didn’t remind him.
‘… and yet in the past few weeks you have both become creatures of scarcity, shall we say. You each have a look in your eyes akin to battery-farm chickens trapped in cages waiting for the electric current to reach them, and now I pick you up from hospital, where your husband is conspicuously absent, and I am told that the baby you are carrying is absolutely fine!’
He paused and shook his head in incredulity as Chloe stared at him. ‘Chloe, they said you are over four months pregnant – when were you going to tell us?’ Despite the admonition, David’s tone was surprisingly gentle.
He paused, taking a breath as if what was coming next would be the crux of it all. ‘Chloe, is this Mark’s child?’
Chloe stared aghast at David, remembering Mikaela asking the very same question, then Mark’s lips on hers, then Alex’s tight, distant expression. Her husband was in another country with a woman she’d only set eyes on twice; and she remembered again the looks on their faces when they’d first seen one another.
Her mind swam. It was all too much.
She burst into unstoppable, uncontrollable tears. She bent double, her arms wrapped around her stomach, frightened that this outburst would be the last straw for the fragile being trying to cling on inside her, but unable to control the great well of emotion that suddenly breached the walls she had been building and fortifying for the past few weeks. She was so tired of being angry. So tired of feeling out of control. So tired of spending each day on the very tip of a knife edge.
So tired.
She had even forgotten that she wasn’t alone, until strong arms came around her and pulled her in. At first she resisted, but then gradually she let herself fall against him, allowing her weight to lean on these arms that held her, until, after an age, she subsided into smaller snuffling sobs, entirely spent.
‘Chloe, Chloe…’ As she grew quieter, David pushed her back so he could see her face. She didn’t want to look up, the first trickles of embarrassment now finding a route through her emotions, and kept her eyes on the buttons of his shirt.
‘Chloe, you must talk to us. Of course we would be concerned, perhaps annoyed, and yes, we do have the business very much at heart as well, but we are just like you at the end of the day – just as capable as you are of screwing up every damn thing.’ She looked up and he gave her a smile and raised an eyebrow, and appeared pleased when she couldn’t help but give a small smile back.
‘Besides,’ David’s jaw clenched, ‘Mark is just as accountable for this as you are, and, from what I can see, he’s not giving you much support.’
‘No, no,’ Chloe said immediately. ‘It’s not that.’ All at once she wanted to laugh. ‘Thank god it’s not that! My husband is, in fact, the father of my child!’
David looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry, that was most presumptuous -’
Chloe cut him off, waving his apology away. ‘Don’t worry about it. But as for Mark, did Neil not tell you about Henry?’ she asked.
David sat back and sighed. ‘Oh, so that’s it, is it? Do you know what’s going on with Henry?’ He sounded weary.
Chloe shrugged. ‘No, and I’m not even sure that Mark does.’
David nodded and looked at his watch. ‘I might try to find Mark, then, when I head back, and see what’s what. I seem to be spending the day ensconced in the mysterious subterranean world of my staff, so I may as well carry on.
‘Now,’ he continued, looking at Chloe. ‘I’m going to have to go, but I don’t want you to be on your own. I want you to call someone.’
‘I will,’ she said, with no such intention.
‘Now, Chloe, while I’m here.’
‘I’ll call someone, I promise.’ She looked up at him indignantly. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘No,’ David replied. She waited for a smile to appear, but he just stared at her expectantly. She could already feel his role changing from that of her confidant back to her superior, and she got up and went to the side table, where both the phone and her address book lay.
She paused over the address book, mentally riffling through lists of names without even opening it. Who could she call? She discounted friends with small babies, friends with work commitments, friends who lived too far away. She didn’t want to go to someone else’s house; she wanted to stay right here and rest among her own things.