Still, they had been before and he had always managed to talk Lucinda round. He didn’t foresee any difficulties this time either.
‘I have just been telling Robina that it’s impossible. We’re a working unit. We certainly don’t have time to appear on a TV show. God, is there no aspect of life that reality TV doesn’t want to ferret around in?’
‘Niall,’ Lucinda said warningly, ‘you and I need to talk about this. And as for people ferreting around, as you so elegantly put it, Robina’s a doctor and completely professional. She’s not going to go about this in an insensitive manner. You know that.’
Robina stood, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from her beautifully cut Chanel suit. Every inch the professional media woman, Niall thought. Looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But there had been times lately when he’d thought he’d seen naked pain in the depths of her deep brown eyes.
‘Why don’t I leave you two to discuss it? I need to get back to the office. We can speak later.’
As she bent to drop a kiss on Lucinda’s cheek, Niall studied Robina surreptitiously. Her closely cropped dark hair, long neck and high cheekbones, along with her chocolate skin, all added to the exotic look known to thousands, if not millions, of viewers. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was stunning. At least five-ten, she was slim, recently almost painfully so. If she had chosen a life as a model, Niall had no doubt she would have been equally successful.
Robina walked around to Niall’s side of the desk and bending, kissed him on the cheek.
‘I’ll see you at home, darling. Try not to be too late. You know Ella won’t go to sleep unless she can kiss you goodnight. Make sure he leaves on time, won’t you, Lucinda?’
And with that, Niall watched his wife sweep out the door.
‘Robina gets more beautiful every day,’ Lucinda said wistfully. ‘How she manages it, looking after a young child with a full-time job and her writing, is beyond me. She must be some kind of superwoman! I hear she has a new book coming out in the spring.’
The last thing Niall wanted to talk about was his wife and her career, particularly since she hadn’t even mentioned until now that her company was thinking of doing a documentary in his unit. There was no doubt in his mind that the two women had been planning the project long before he had been told about it, and he was furious. How had Robina managed to get to Lucinda without him knowing? Robina must have known damn well he would oppose the project, and not just for the reasons he’d outlined earlier. For her even to be thinking about doing the documentary was crazy. It was far too soon and far too close to home. But that was probably why she had gone directly to Lucinda. The unit’s general manager didn’t know about the baby and even if she did, it wouldn’t have crossed her mind that he and Robina hadn’t discussed the documentary beforehand. Neither could Lucinda even guess that he and his wife were barely on speaking terms these days, and that the kiss Robina had deposited on his cheek had all been part of the façade they kept up in front of others.
‘What in God’s name made you think I would agree to this?’ he said, trying to keep the anger from his voice. ‘We should have discussed it before you set up the meeting with Robina.’
Lucinda looked at him warily. ‘Money,’ she said flatly. ‘Real Life Productions will be paying a lot for this. Money that we could use either for research or to help sponsor more women into the programme.’
Niall hated the funding aspect of the unit, hated anything that took him away from his patients or his research, and was only too happy to leave the finances of the unit in her capable hands.
‘I was sure you and Robina had talked about this.’ Lucinda’s grey eyes were puzzled. ‘Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone ahead with the meeting. I assumed when Robina came to me that you must have agreed in principle.’
Niall returned her gaze steadily. The last thing he was prepared to discuss was his personal life.
‘Money isn’t the only issue here,’ he said evasively. ‘I see no reason why we should be selling our soul to the devil, and believe me that’s exactly what we’d be doing. We’d be exploiting the very women who come to us for help.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t see it that way. Not at all.’ Lucinda regarded him severely and Niall groaned when he saw the determination in her eyes. ‘We do need the money, Niall. You are always waiving fees.’ She threw up her hands anticipating his protest. ‘And I support you. But we can’t keep doing it. If we don’t generate some extra funding, and soon, we’ll have to start turning away all non-paying patients, and neither you nor I want to do that.’
Niall was stunned. He’d had no idea that the unit was in financial difficulty.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’ he demanded. ‘You and I are supposed to be partners.’
‘I tried to tell you.’ Lucinda drew a weary hand across her brow. ‘But it is so hard to pin you down these days. You are always so damned preoccupied with one thing or another.’
Niall looked at her sharply. Her eyes looked hollow; her mouth pinched with fatigue. He felt a pang of guilt. Why hadn’t he noticed? But even as he thought the question he knew the answer—because he had been too busy trying to block out everything except his work.
‘The trouble is, Niall, between your patients and your research, it’s almost impossible these days to catch you so we can have a discussion about the business side of things.’
Niall knew she was right. He had little patience for the business side of things, as she put it, at the best of times. And lately, well, he’d had other stuff on his mind. But nevertheless he should have noticed that something was wrong. He shouldn’t have let Lucinda carry the burden on her own. The trouble was that he had become used to her taking care of the financial aspects of running the unit and had been only too happy to let her get on with it. He felt a fresh spasm of guilt.
‘We can find the extra funding from elsewhere, from my own pocket if necessary.’
Lucinda half smiled. ‘I appreciate the sentiment, but your pocket—generous as it’s been—isn’t enough any more. The kind of money we need has to come from ongoing investment. The kind of investment that would come from a documentary such as the one your wife, or at least the company she represents, is proposing. But,’ she continued, ‘that aside, I would never even consider it, not even for millions of pounds, if I didn’t think it was a good idea. But I have to agree with Robina. Infertility is something so many women suffer from, and I think it is in the public interest to inform a wider audience of the reality. As for your concerns, I’m sure Robina has told you that only patients who are willing to share their experiences on TV will appear and we will, of course, ask them to sign the appropriate waivers. It will be an inconvenience to us, I admit that, but there must be ways we can minimise the disruption. At least say you’ll think about it.’
Niall stood and crossed over to the older woman. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. ‘I’ve been selfish,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry about funding on your own. Why don’t you give me a copy of the latest financial forecast and I’ll look at it over the weekend? Then we will talk again,’ he promised. ‘But in the meantime I have a clinic about to start. Could we discuss this again on Monday?’
Lucinda nodded and then smiled up at him. ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘don’t beat yourself up. If you weren’t so obsessed with work, the clinic wouldn’t have such a fine reputation.’
