got put through and was told that Emily was on a late shift today.
‘Maybe I am just worrying about nothing,’ Louise said.
‘Let us hope so.’
A baby was waking up and Tara, a night nurse, was just dashing off to do the morning obs.
‘I’ll get him.’
Louise picked up the little one and snuggled him in. ‘God, I love that smell,’ Louise said, inhaling the scent of the baby’s hair, then she looked over at Anton.
‘Did Saffron have a good night?’
She watched his lips move into a wry smile.
‘Not really,’ Anton said, and then added, ‘And her name is Saffarella.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ Louise said. ‘I got mixed up. Saffron’s the one you put in your rice to make it go yellow, isn’t it?’ Louise corrected herself. ‘Expensive stuff, costs a fortune and you only get a tiny—’
‘Louise,’ Anton warned, ‘I don’t know quite where you’re going there but, please, don’t be a bitch.’
‘I can’t help myself, Anton,’ Louise swiftly retorted. ‘If you get off with another woman in front of me then you’ll see my bitchy side.’
Anton actually grinned; she was so open that she fancied him, so relentless, so aaagggh, he thought as he sat there.
‘I didn’t get off, as you say, with Saffarella. We danced.’
‘Please,’ Louise scoffed.
Maybe he wanted to share the relief he had felt when he had just heard that she and Rory were only friends but, for whatever reason, he put her out of her misery too.
‘I took Saffarella back to the hotel she is staying at last night.’
He gave her an inch and, yep, Louise took a mile.
‘Really!’ Louise gave a delighted grin and covered the baby’s ears. ‘So you didn’t—’
‘Louise!’
‘The baby can’t hear, I’ve covered his ears. So you and she didn’t …?’
‘No, we didn’t.’
‘Did she sulk?’ Louise asked with glee, and he grimaced a touch at the memory of the car door slamming.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, poor Saffron, I mean Saffarella—now that I know you and she didn’t do anything, I can like her.’
They both smiled, though it was with a touch of regret because last night could have been such a nicer night.
‘Thanks so much,’ Tara said, coming over and looking at the baby. ‘He’s asleep now, Louise. You can put him back in his isolette.’
‘But I don’t want to,’ Louise said, looking down at the sleeping baby. He was all curled up in her arms, his knees were up and his ankles crossed as if he were still in the womb. His little feet were poking out of the baby blanket and Louise was stroking them.
‘They’re like kittens’ paws,’ Louise said, watching his teeny toes curl.
‘You are so seriously clucky,’ Tara said.
‘Oh, I’m more than clucky,’ Louise admitted. ‘I keep going over to the nativity scene just to pick up Baby Jesus. I have to have one.’
‘It will ruin your lingerie career,’ Tara warned, but Louise just laughed.
‘I’m sure pregnant women can and do wear fabulously sexy underwear—in fact, my agent’s going to speak to a couple of companies to see what sort of work they might have for me if I get pregnant.’
‘Surely you’re missing something if you want a baby …’ Tara said, referring to Louise’s lack of a love life, but now she had told her mum, now she’d told Rory and Emily knew too, Louise had decided it was time to start to let the world know.
‘No, I’m not missing anything.’ Louise smiled. ‘In fact, I might have to pay a visit to Anton.’
She was referring to the fact she’d found out he was a reproductive specialist too and he gave a wry smile at the ease of her double entendre.
‘I have an excellent record,’ Anton said.
‘So I’ve heard.’ Louise smirked.
Then Anton stopped the joking around and went to get back to his notes. ‘You don’t need to be rushing. How old are you?’
‘Thirty next year!’ Louise sighed.
‘Plenty of time. You don’t have to be thinking about it yet,’ Anton said, but it turned out that the ditzy Louise ran deep.
‘I think about it a lot,’ she admitted. ‘In all seriousness, Anton,’ she continued, as Tara headed off to do more obs, ‘I’m actually confused by the whole thing. I recently saw my GP but she just told me to come off the Pill for a few months.’
Anton frowned, fighting the urge to step in while not wanting to get involved with this aspect of Louise, so he was a little brusque in response. ‘The fertility centre at this hospital runs an information night for single women,’ Anton offered. ‘Your questions would be best answered there.’
‘I know they do,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve booked in for the next one but it’s not till February. That’s ages away.’
‘It will be here before you know it. As I said, there’s no rush.’
‘There might be, though,’ Louise said, and told him the truth. ‘A few years ago I found out I’d probably have problems getting pregnant. That’s why I’m off the Pill and trying to sort out my cycle. I know quite a bit but even I’m confused.’
‘You need a specialist. Perhaps see an ob/gyn and have him answer your questions, but I would think, from the little you’ve told me, that you would be referred to a fertility specialist. Certainly, if you are considering pregnancy, you need to get some base bloods down and an ultrasound.’
‘Can I come and see you?’ Louise was completely serious now. ‘Make an appointment, I mean, and then if I did get pregnant …’
‘There is a long wait to see me.’
‘Even for colleagues?’ Louise cheekily checked.
‘Especially for colleagues,’ Anton said, really not liking the way this conversation was going.
‘What about privately?’ Louise asked, and she was serious about that because all her money from modelling was going into her baby fund.
‘Louise.’ Anton was even brusquer now. ‘Why would you want to be a single mother?’
‘I’m
