He sent her a sideways glance so full of emotion she felt her sympathetic heart swell to bursting. He offered her a nod, as if to say thanks, but he didn’t speak. She was quite sure he couldn’t speak.
For some time they sat together, with their overcoats bundled on the bench beside them, before one of the hospital staff approached them, a youngish woman with bright red hair. ‘Mr Corrigan?’
Zac lifted his gaze slowly. ‘Yes?’
The woman’s eyes lit up with the predictable enthusiasm of just about any female who met Zac. ‘I’m Ruby Jones,’ she said, holding onto her bright smile despite his grimness. ‘I’m the social worker looking after your case.’
‘Right. I see.’ Zac was on his feet now. ‘I guess you want to speak to me about the...the child?’
‘Yes, certainly.’ Ruby Jones offered him another sparkling smile, which Chloe thought was totally inappropriate. ‘Am I right in imagining that you’d like to meet your niece?’
‘Meet her?’ Zac looked startled.
‘Yes, she’s just on the next floor in the maternity ward.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ He turned to Chloe. ‘You’ll come, too, won’t you?’
‘Yes, if you like.’
Ruby, the social worker, looked apologetic. ‘I’m afraid—in these situations, we usually only allow close family members into—’
‘Chloe is family,’ Zac intervened, sounding more like his usual authoritarian self.
Chloe stared at the floor, praying that she didn’t blush, but it was a shock to hear Zac describe her as family. She knew it was an expedient lie, but for a crazy moment her imagination went a little wild.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ruby sounded as flustered as Chloe felt. ‘I thought you mentioned a PA.’
Zac gave an impatient flick of his head. ‘Anyway, you couldn’t count this child’s close family on two fingers.’ He placed a commanding hand at Chloe’s elbow. ‘Come on.’
Chloe avoided making eye contact with Zac as the social worker led them to the lift, which they rode in silence to the next floor.
‘This way,’ Ruby said as they stepped out and she led them down a hallway smelling of antiseptic, past doorways that revealed glimpses of young women and bassinets. From all around were sounds of new babies crying and, somewhere in the distance, a floor polisher whined.
Zac looked gloomy, as if he was hating every minute.
‘Have you ever been in a maternity ward before?’ Chloe asked him out of the side of her mouth.
‘No, of course not. Have you?’
‘Once. Just to visit a friend,’ she added when she saw his startled glance.
Ahead of them, the social worker had stopped at a glass door and was talking to a nurse. She turned to them. ‘If you wait here at this door, we’ll wheel the baby over.’
Zac nodded unhappily.
Chloe said, ‘Thank you.’
As the two women disappeared, Zac let out a heavy sigh. His jaw jutted with dismal determination as he sank his hands deep into his trouser pockets. Chloe was tempted to reach out, to touch him again, to give his elbow an encouraging squeeze, but almost immediately the door opened and a little trolley was wheeled through.
She could see the bump of a tiny baby beneath a pink blanket, and a hint of dark hair. Beside her, she heard her boss gasp.
‘Oh, my God,’ he whispered.
The trolley was wheeled closer.
‘So here she is.’ The nurse was middle-aged and hearty and she gave Zac an encouraging smile. ‘She’s a proper little cutie, this one.’
Chloe couldn’t help taking a step closer. The nurse was right. The baby was incredibly cute. She was sound asleep and lying on her back, giving them a good view of her perfectly round little face and soft skin and her tiny nose—and, yes, her perfectly darling rosebud mouth—just as Chloe had imagined.
The baby gave a little stretch and one tiny hand came out from beneath the blanket, almost waving at them. There was a hospital bracelet around her wrinkled wrist. Chloe saw the name Corrigan written on it and a painful lump filled her throat.
Zac was staring at the baby with a kind of awestruck terror.
‘So what do you think of your niece, Mr Corrigan?’ asked Ruby, the social worker.
He gave a dazed shake of his head. ‘She’s tiny.’
‘Her birth weight was fine,’ the nurse said, sounding defensive, as if Zac had directly criticised her hospital. ‘At least seven pounds.’
The social worker chimed in again. ‘Would you like to hold her?’
Now Zac looked truly horrified. ‘But she’s asleep,’ he protested, keeping his hands rammed in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as if he wished he could escape. For Chloe, by contrast, the urge to pick the baby up and cuddle her was almost overwhelming, as the maternal yearnings that she’d learned to suppress came suddenly rushing back.
She saw a frowning look exchanged between the nurse and the social worker and she worried that this was some kind of test that Zac had to pass before they could consider handing the baby into his care.
‘Go on,’ Chloe urged him softly. ‘You should hold her for a moment. You won’t upset her. She probably won’t even wake up.’
* * *
Zac felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever felt so out of his depth. The nurse was peeling back the pink blanket to reveal a tiny baby wrapped tightly in another thinner blanket. This was going to happen. They were going to hand her to him and he couldn’t back out of it.
‘Our little newborns feel safer when they’re swaddled firmly like this. It also makes them easier to hold,’ the nurse said as she lifted the sleeping bundle.
Reluctantly, Zac drew his hands from his pockets and hoped they weren’t shaking.
‘Just relax,’ the nurse said as she placed the baby in his arms.
Relax? She had to be joking. It was all right for her. She did this every day. He was still getting over the agony of seeing Liv. And now he was so scared he might drop her baby...
She was in his arms.
He could feel the warmth of Liv’s baby reaching him through the thin wrap. Could feel her limbs wriggling. Oh, dear God, she was so real. Alive and breathing. He forced himself to look down into her little pink face, so different from the deathly white one he’d so recently witnessed...
And yet...the similarity was there...
He found
