babe,’ Babette crowed. ‘I never expected you to take it this badly. I told Andy it was too soon. I hope it isn’t going to be too much for you, seeing us together at the charity ball on Saturday night?’
Saskia fought it, but the darkness was closing in. Fast.
‘It’s not about you or Andy, Babette,’ she muttered, as her mind fought to battle that little bit longer. ‘I need you to get a doctor.’
‘You don’t need to pretend with me. I understand, babe. Perhaps it’s better that you don’t come...’
Through her blurring eyes Saskia could see that the woman was practically beside herself with joy at the idea that her engagement was causing Saskia such pain.
‘No, Babette,’ Saskia managed. ‘You really don’t understand. I need you to get a doctor. I’m pregnant.’
She just about heard Babette’s shocked intake of breath as her head spun again.
And was that the floor coming up to meet her?
Abruptly, two strong hands grabbed her shoulders. Heat from a body was behind her back. An unmistakably citrusy, woodsy male scent filled her nostrils. And then she was being swept up into the oddly familiar arms of a hulk of a man, and nestled against his shoulder as he carried her down the corridor.
Malachi.
Her mind railed even as her body slumped against him, and by the time she came round fully they were in an on-call room and Malachi was sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling her head, a plastic cup of water in his other hand.
Saskia groaned inwardly.
‘Stop squirming, zvyozdochka,’ he commanded gruffly. ‘You’ll hit your head if you fall backwards.’
Reluctantly, she obeyed, taking another sip of the proffered water, then another, letting her mind stop whirling and twirling like the teacups ride at a theme park. As if water could somehow dampen all that heat and desire which she was sure still swirled around them even now.
At least he had the grace to stand up and move to the chair next to her, instead of being so close on the bed that it felt as though her entire left side was on fire.
It seemed like an age before she could shift position again, moving her legs to swing them carefully over the edge.
‘Better?’ he asked.
‘Better.’ She bobbed her head tentatively. Then, when it felt okay, she nodded a little more confidently. ‘Thanks.’
But he didn’t move. Neither of them did.
How much had he heard?
For several long moments a kind of tenseness swirled around them. Saskia waited for him to mention her pregnancy, but he didn’t. Clearly he hadn’t caught her last comment to Babette.
An odd sense of deflation rolled through her. She should probably be happy he hadn’t overheard—that would have been no way for him to find out. But at least it would have taken the decision out of her hands; it would have meant she didn’t have to sit here frantically trying to work out what to say and how to phrase it. Or even when to say it.
Her brain whirred. Whatever she said, though, dropping such a bombshell right now, in an on-call room during a busy shift, wasn’t the way to do it. And that wasn’t just an excuse. She would do it. Just not here, not now, and not like this.
‘Anyway, I can’t lie around here all day. I have patients to see,’ Saskia began, forcing out an attempt at a jolly little laugh and placing her fists on the hard mattress to push herself to a standing position. Suddenly a tiny rod of hope punched through her. ‘Although...you didn’t come here to see me, did you?’
He didn’t answer immediately, and it felt as though the air had suddenly been sucked from the room. Something dense and heavy was threatening to close over her, and before she could stop herself she began to babble.
‘It’s just...well, with not seeing you at Care to Play these last few months, I was beginning to wonder if you’ve been avoiding me. You know...after that weekend. What we did. Together.’
She tried for another jolly laugh, but it sounded as stilted and awkward as she felt.
Malachi hesitated. It was only the briefest of moments, but Saskia caught it nonetheless. Her heart launched itself at her ribs, slamming against her with painful force. It had been one thing to suspect it, but having it confirmed scraped at her much more deeply and painfully than it had any right to do.
And still she stood, rooted to the spot as he stared at her with a closed expression that said far more than any words could have.
The silence pressed on until she couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘I should go. Forget I said anything. I didn’t intend to make things...’
‘There’s a patient called Izzy here.’ His voice was clipped. Distant. ‘She came in today after falling off a climbing frame. I just brought her mother in.’
Saskia snapped her head up.
‘That’s my patient.’
The seven-year-old girl had been brought into Resus several hours ago, where she’d been seen by Malachi’s neurosurgeon brother, Sol, and Anouk, after she’d fallen from a rope climbing apparatus in the local park. Sol had told her that someone would be bringing Izzy’s mother—who was an MS sufferer—in as soon as possible. She just hadn’t realised that someone would be Malachi.
‘So Izzy is a young carer from Care to Play? I didn’t realise...’ She faltered under the intensity of his gaze. ‘I mean, I haven’t seen her there before.’
‘You haven’t been going that long.’
‘No...true. But Sol never told me it would be you bringing her mother in.’
‘He has no reason to think you and I know each other.’ Malachi shrugged.
He couldn’t know how much that dismissive gesture cut her.
‘How is Izzy, anyway?’ he asked abruptly, his concern evident.
Saskia felt another stab of something she didn’t care to identify. She forced it aside and made herself focus. In all her years as a doctor she’d never felt so torn before.
The young girl had landed on her face and her head and suffered loss of consciousness. Along with a laceration over one eye, and the loss of a couple of teeth, their main concern had been internal bleeds, so she’d been sent for a head and neck scan, with the possibility of a broken jaw. Fortunately the CT scan had come back as clear as they could have hoped, along with all the other tests they had run.
But she couldn’t tell Malachi any of that. Not when he wasn’t technically anything more than her patient’s mum’s lift in.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t discuss this with you,’ she apologised. ‘I need to speak to Izzy’s mum.’
‘Of course,’ he confirmed instantly.
