‘But we can’t do that. Either of us. Both girls have the right to know their genetic make-up. Chloe could perhaps need that more than Abby.’
A shiver of cold washed through her as she understood the implications of what he was trying to tell her. ‘Is Eloise’s heart condition hereditary?’
‘It’s possible for her to have inherited the same problem,’ he stated baldly. ‘But not likely.’
Lucy turned away as she felt the panic begin to rise up again. ‘I can’t bear this.’
‘We have to.’ Dominic caught her arm. ‘Our girls are only six. Far too little to deal with this. We’re the grownups here and we’re going to have to deal with it.’
His fingers held her arm still, preventing her from walking away. She could almost imagine the warmth from his hand was giving her strength. Passing from him to her. She turned back towards him. ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered.
‘If I could tell you everything’s going to be all right I would. But I don’t know that. I only know I’m going to do anything to protect Chloe and Abby from the consequences of this. I don’t want to sue the hospital. I don’t want any publicity.’
The mention of the word ‘publicity’ took the whole situation into another dimension. Lucy hadn’t had time to think about the full ramifications of what had happened. She’d heard the defensive tone in Dr Shorrock’s voice but it hadn’t registered with her as anything other than awkwardness. But, yes, they could sue the hospital for negligence. But if they did, what then? A tragic mix-up at an IVF clinic would have all the elements needed to shoot the story to front-page prominence.
And then she thought of Chloe. A bright, sunny little girl who was already having to live her life without her daddy. Who had so few memories of the man who’d loved her for the first five years of her life.
‘I don’t want any publicity either.’
The tension in Dominic’s face relaxed and he let go of her arm. ‘I’m sure the courts will do everything they can to protect the girls. They’re so young…I don’t want to make this any more difficult for you and your family than it already is—but we can’t pretend it hasn’t happened either. I imagine we’ll be asked to sign something that gives up all legal right to our biological children.’
Lucy frowned as she struggled to keep up with his conversation. He’d had longer to come to terms with the truth.
‘But I’d like to see her,’ he continued. ‘Maybe have a photograph. A letter at Christmas. I can’t make this situation right but I want my natural daughter to know I would have loved her. That I’ll be there for her if ever she needs me.’ His sincerity was tangible. ‘And you must want that too. For Abby? Don’t you?’
The little girl she didn’t know? Abby? Yes, she wanted Abby to know she’d have loved her. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I do want that.’
‘I think they’re too young to be told everything. If you let me see Chloe occasionally you can be certain I’ll never do anything to hurt her. I would just like to meet her. Talk to her for a little while so I can imagine her when I think about her.’
‘And Abby?’
He nodded. ‘I’d like her to know who you are. For you to be someone she likes so that when I have to tell her the truth she won’t feel abandoned. I want her to know I did everything I could to make things right for her.’
Lucy looked back the way they’d walked unseeingly. ‘I’d like to see Abby.’
‘Good.’
‘And you can meet Chloe. But later. I can’t do it now. Not now.’
His eyes softened and she felt the panic recede again. Dominic Grayling was a man to be trusted. The words popped into her head and they were comforting.
‘First you must have Chloe checked out. Let’s know what we are playing with.’
Lucy kept looking at his eyes, as though they were a life raft that was going to stop her being smashed against the jagged rocks. ‘She was a very healthy baby.’
‘That’s good, then, isn’t it? Let’s just make sure.’
‘I want to go home now.’
Dominic pulled a notepad from his pocket and finished filling out his name and address. ‘Here,’ he said, passing it across.
Dr Dominic Grayling. ‘You’re a doctor?’
‘Not of medicine. I did a PhD. May I have your address?’
Lucy kept staring at the paper. ‘Grayling. That’s what Dr Shorrock meant. I hadn’t realised before.’ She looked back up at him. ‘He said ‘‘possibly there was some confusion over the names’’. I’m Grayford.’
‘Yes.’
She sighed. ‘It doesn’t seem possible, does it?’ Taking his pen, she wrote swiftly. ‘We live in Shropshire.’
Dominic accepted the notebook back. ‘Will you be all right getting home? Is your husband in London with you?’
‘Michael? No.’ Lucy pulled her bag up on to her shoulder and pushed her hands down into the depths of her pockets. ‘Oh, no, Michael’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Michael died just before Chloe’s fifth birthday.’ She was really quite proud of the way she held her voice steady. ‘I understand how you feel about Abby. I really do. Chloe’s all I have too. I’m never going to let her go.’
CHAPTER TWO
LUCY glanced down at her watch and noticed with a jolt that it was already past seven. It was more than a jolt—she actually felt sick when she saw how late it was.
She’d meant to be so calm when she met Dominic again. She’d meant to be well groomed and in complete control but all her good intentions had turned to dust. Time had just flown by—in the way it always seemed to do when you knew there was something difficult ahead, she reflected as she searched out the small figure of her daughter in the middle of the play park. She was going to have to rush to be ready in time.
‘Five minutes, Clo, and then we need to go to Grandma’s,’ she called out as she stood up to pack away their picnic things.
It was doubtful whether Chloe heard. Her feet were taking her in the direction of the giant slide, her blonde hair streaming out behind her. Lucy smiled. Nothing troubled Chloe’s world and she was determined to keep it that way. Whatever Dominic Grayling had to say this evening. Whatever any court of law had to say on the subject, she’d keep her safe and happy.
‘Chloe, it’s time to go. Five more minutes and that’s it,’ she called again.
Turning to reach for the picnic mat she stilled, suddenly aware of a solitary figure watching them. Perhaps her imagination had conjured him up? She was late, but not that late. He shouldn’t be here. Not now. Dominic wouldn’t do this
