was a spur-of-the-moment thing. A celebrant, a beach and a couple of surfers for witnesses. Izzy and Josh said it was the commitment to each other that mattered, not putting on a show for anyone else.’ Another smile tugged at her mouth even as something sad and raw twisted inside her. ‘We all wore jeans and we went paddling afterwards.’
‘In jeans? On a beach?’ Dylan shifted the baby in his arms and fished in the pocket of his well-worn leather jacket. A slightly crumpled photograph was produced. ‘Was that when this picture was taken?’
‘Yes.’ Jane had to press her lips together. She didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger. She needed to wind this interview up and have a little time to herself, hopefully, before her pager summoned her. ‘That…that was my official bridesmaid portrait.’
Dylan shook his head. ‘Why did it have to be so rushed? I would have come.’
‘It was kind of a celebration, I guess.’
‘Of what?’
Jane sighed. ‘Maybe resolution would be a better word. It had been a rather intense few weeks. Josh had proposed but Izzy refused to marry him and it was tearing her to pieces. Tearing us all to pieces.’
Dylan’s eyebrows rose. ‘I thought it was love at first sight? Why did she refuse?’
At least there was something Jane knew more about than Izzy’s brother-in-law.
‘She knew she couldn’t have babies and there was nothing Josh could say that would convince her it didn’t matter. Izzy could get very passionate about things. She had got it into her head that the only way she could show Josh how much she loved him was to have his baby.’
‘And why couldn’t she?’
‘Early menopause. Hit her at twenty-nine. Way before she met Josh. There was no warning, either, so she couldn’t try and harvest her own eggs and store them.’
‘So you stepped in and offered yours?’
‘Not exactly.’ He made it sound as if it had been a casual thing. An easy solution. ‘As I said, it was…intense.’ Fraught, more like. Izzy had made it seem that futures and friendships were on the line. ‘Izzy knew I was never going to have my own children. I—’
‘Why?’ The interruption was puzzled. ‘How did you know that for sure?’
‘Because I made a choice to have a career that doesn’t leave time to raise children, that’s why.’ Jane’s tone hardened. ‘Because my parents had full-on careers and I know what it’s like to be raised by parents who don’t have the time.’ Not that her upbringing was any of his business. ‘Yes, I got persuaded to help Izzy but, if I’m honest, I had doubts about it. There was an element of relief when it didn’t work.’
‘But it did work.’
As if to support the quiet statement, the baby in his arms stirred and squeaked.
I’m here, the noise said. I’m real.
‘I have her birth certificate if you’d like to see it.’
A cold prickle ran down Jane’s spine. ‘And that’s relevant because…?’
‘Because it has your name on it. As her mother.’
‘I’m not her mother!’
‘Biologically, you are. It was Josh who thought it was the best plan. We got legal advice and medical records as supportive evidence. You signed a consent to have your identity available.’
‘Only in case of a family medical history being needed. Or…a bone-marrow transplant or something.’ Jane stood up again. She needed to move. ‘This is ridiculous. I did not choose to have a child.’
Sophie squeaked more loudly. A grizzle that threatened to turn into a cry. Did she sense the rejection?
‘There’s lots of mothers out there who didn’t exactly choose to have a child.’The outrageous calm of Dylan’s voice showed he had absolutely no understanding of the implications of this situation. ‘They still bond with them when they arrive. They bring them up and they make good mothers.’
‘I have no intention of bonding with this baby.’ Oh, Lord, that sounded callous but it was the truth. ‘And I’m not about to have motherhood forced on me.’
Jane was pacing again. Towards her desk. Her nice tidy desk—as organised and precise as her life. There was the gold clock, the box of pens, a pad of sticky notes, another box with her business cards.
‘Here.’ Jane picked up one of the cards and marched back to present it to Dylan. ‘Here are my contact details. Call me tomorrow when I’ve had time to contact my solicitors. We’ll sort something out. A way I can contribute to this child’s welfare.’
‘That’s big of you.’ Dylan took the card and stuffed it into his pocket. He stood up, seemingly oblivious to the steady wail Sophie was now emitting. ‘But wee Sophie needs a bit more than money.’
‘It’s the best I can offer.’
‘I don’t agree.’
‘Look.’ The noise the baby was making was filling Jane’s head and making it impossible to think clearly. She had to escape. Find time to think about this. ‘She’s got you. You’re her uncle and you obviously care about her. I’ll help however I can but—’
Along with the strident sound of a distressed baby came the insistent beeping of Jane’s pager. She was needed. Where she belonged. In the paediatric intensive care unit or the ward or an operating theatre. She had to escape and step back into her real life.
Away from this nightmare.
Jane turned, ready to pick up the telephone on her desk and find out where she was needed.
‘Oi!’
Jane’s jaw dropped. Her astonishment at such an inappropriate command was enough to actually make her turn back.
‘You made a choice,’ Dylan said, his voice low and dangerous. ‘You made it possible for this baby to come into the world. You have to take responsibility for that choice.’
‘But I told you. I—’
‘No.’ He was furious now, the word was ground out from a clenched jaw. ‘I won’t have it. Sophie deserves better than this. Sophie,’ he repeated, holding out the shrieking bundle. ‘Your daughter.’
She had no idea how it happened. It was all too fast and noisy and totally unexpected. There she was, facing an angry man and a baby making a sound that would scramble anyone’s brains, and a heartbeat later—here she was…
Holding that baby and watching incredulously as the man stormed out of her office.
CHAPTER THREE
HOW could he have done that?
Walked out and left
