HATE leaving her—she was a bit fretful in the night. I’m afraid she might be coming down with something.’ Abby reluctantly handed her daughter over to Karen, the nursery nurse who ran the hospital crèche. ‘Maybe I should have kept her at home, but they’re so short-staffed on the ward that I just couldn’t do it to them, and—’
‘Abby, stop worrying!’ Karen interrupted her gently and settled Rosa on her hip, her expression sympathetic and mildly amused. ‘She looks perfectly healthy to me. I know you feel guilty about working but you don’t need to. There are plenty of single mothers in the world and plenty of them have to work. She has a really great time here and you’re a brilliant mother. The best I know.’
Was she?
Abby bit her lip, painfully aware that Karen didn’t know the whole truth of Rosa’s conception.
It was a part of her life that she never discussed with anyone.
And although it was true that there were plenty of single mothers in the world, there were surely very few in her situation. And because she never forgot that she’d chosen this life for Rosa, she was doubly determined to be the very best mother that she could be.
‘It’s so hard for you, being on you own. You must feel so lonely sometimes,’ Karen said gently. ‘I know you don’t like talking about it, but do you ever think of contacting her father?’
‘No.’ Abby shook her head.
How could she? Because she’d been so desperate to have a baby, she’d chosen to do so without the traditional support of a man. Rosa’s conception had been arranged with clinical efficiency and total secrecy, and she had absolutely no idea who the father was.
And that knowledge nagged at her constantly despite the fact that the pain of her own childhood had left deep scars and she was only too aware that having two parents was no guarantee of childhood bliss. She’d been sent to boarding school at the age of seven by workaholic parents keen to relieve themselves of a child they’d never wanted, so she knew better than anyone that two parents didn’t necessarily make a happy family.
But that didn’t stop her feeling guilty that she’d deprived Rosa of a father.
‘You never talk about it and you’re always so self-contained and independent.’ Karen sighed. ‘He must have hurt you so much.’
Abby bit her lip, unable to correct the misconception without giving away her secret. The truth was that Rosa’s father hadn’t hurt her at all. She didn’t even know him. All she knew was what her friend Lucia had told her. That the donor was Italian and very clever. And as for being independent, well, she’d had to be. Unlike most of her peers, her parents had never been there for her so she’d learned to take care of herself.
‘How’s little Thomas Wood?’ Karen settled Rosa more comfortably on her hip and changed the subject neatly. ‘When’s he going for his op?’
‘Tomorrow.’ Abby pulled a face and handed over a bag containing all Rosa’s things for the day. ‘That’s the other reason I felt I had to work today. I need to give his parents some support. They’re terrified.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ Karen shook her head, her expression sombre. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how it must feel to see your five-month-old baby going for open-heart surgery.’
‘Yes.’ Abby leaned forward to kiss her daughter one more time. ‘Still, Thomas is luckier than some. We’ve got an Italian surgeon arriving today to spend a few months on the unit until they appoint someone permanently. He’s supposed to be one of the best there is and he’s going to be teaching and working on the wards for a while. He’s doing Thomas’s operation. With an audience of thousands, from what I can gather. I hope he’s got steady hands.’
She stroked a hand over Rosa’s head, marvelling at how silky her dark hair was. ‘You promise to call me if you’re worried about her? Even if she’s just a bit off colour—’
‘For crying out loud, Abby!’ Karen gave her an exasperated look and waved a hand towards the door. ‘Just go, will you? She’ll be fine!’
Abby gave a faltering smile, cast a last longing look at her daughter and then forced herself to leave the brightly decorated crèche and make her way up to the paediatric surgical ward where she worked. As usual she had a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.
She hated leaving Rosa so much.
It was like a physical wrench that didn’t seem to get any easier with time. Given the chance, she would have spent every moment of every day just playing with her daughter and cuddling her but circumstances made that impossible. She had to work. Fortunately she loved her job and knew how lucky she was to work on such a respected unit. She found the field of paediatric cardiac surgery stimulating and absorbing and she knew that once she arrived on the ward she’d put thoughts of Rosa to one side and concentrate instead on the sick children and worried parents who needed her care.
And in a way Karen was right, she reassured herself firmly as she pressed the button for the lift. Plenty of parents worked and their children didn’t suffer for it.
She took comfort from the fact that Rosa was a happy, sociable child and being with the other children in the crèche provided her with an important source of stimulation.
As the lift doors opened she straightened her uniform and checked that her long blonde hair was securely fastened.
‘Hi, Abby.’ Heather, the ward sister, greeted her with a warm smile and gestured towards the side room. ‘The Woods are biting their nails to the quick in there. Fortunately we’re well staffed today so you should be able to concentrate on them and give them all the support they need.’ She glanced around furtively and lowered her voice. ‘And maybe you’d better check they understand everything that’s happening. Mr Forster had a brief chat with them before he left but you know what he was like, poor thing. He never had any time for the parents and he was hopeless at explaining anything. They looked more confused when he came out than they did when he went in.’
Abby gave a wry smile. One of their consultants, Mr Forster, had just taken early retirement on the grounds of ill health, but it was widely rumoured that he had just been finding the job too stressful. It was certainly true that he’d always been hopeless at explaining. He used the same terminology that he used with his medical team so his patients never understood him. ‘Perhaps the new surgeon will set an example.’
‘Let’s hope so. Thomas should be first on the list tomorrow and our Italian whiz-kid should be up later to talk to them.’
Abby’s blue eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Whiz-kid’ seemed a strange description for someone with such an awesome reputation who was doubtless crusty and grey-haired. She’d never met the man in question but she was sure that he’d long ago outgrown the ‘whiz-kid’ title.
Making her way to the side room, she tapped on the door and walked in.
Lorna Wood had Thomas on her lap and he was dozing quietly.
‘Hi, there.’ Abby’s voice was hushed so that she didn’t disturb the baby and Lorna looked up, her face pale.
‘Oh, Abby, I’m so pleased to see you.’
‘How are you doing?’
Not
