was a touch embarrassed that she’d told her tale in front of him, but then, he wasn’t the first colleague that had heard the same. Part of her job, and the reason she loved it, was that you saw people at their most raw and could actually make a difference. It had just felt a little awkward and clearly Harry thought it an issue because a few moments after she’d sat down he knocked at her office door.
‘How’s she doing?’
‘Better,’ Marnie said. ‘The bleeding has stopped and the parents are a lot calmer. Her young man just arrived and George actually shook his hand.’
That wasn’t what Harry was there for.
‘I’m sorry for what I said yesterday,’ Harry said, and he sat down when Marnie really would have preferred a more fleeting visit.
‘It’s really not a problem—believe me I’ve heard that, or similar, many times before.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Harry said, then shook his head. ‘Not that that’s an excuse. I’ll be more careful when I say things like that in the future.’
‘Good.’ She gave a small smile; he really did look uncomfortable and that had never been her intention. ‘Harry, I don’t broadcast what happened to me to everyone but, on the other hand, I don’t hide it either. I am a mother, I had a son. I felt today that it was appropriate that I tell those parents what had happened to me before they marched into Emily and made exactly the same mistake my parents made…’
‘A lot of parents do.’
‘Well, hopefully Emily’s parents shan’t now,’ Marnie said. ‘I certainly didn’t tell them to make you feel uncomfortable.’
‘They didn’t take it well, then?’ Harry asked. ‘Your parents?’
‘No.’ Marnie hesitated. Normally she’d add something sharp here, like, ‘Just because you know about it doesn’t mean that I want to discuss it.’ Except today, right now, she did. Maybe it was because Harry, given he had lost his wife, surely knew grief. Or maybe it was just with Declan’s birthday coming up and Ronan hinting that her mother was upset, it had all been brought to the surface.
Then she looked up to his green eyes that were waiting patiently and realised that maybe it was just because it was Harry. ‘They’re very strict,’ Marnie said. ‘Or rather they were when we were younger. My mum went crazy when she found out. She said that it would kill my granny and my father…’ She gave a tight smile. ‘Though not till he’d killed the baby’s father.’ Marnie closed her eyes at the weary memory of that time. ‘All the usual stuff.’
‘Like?’
‘I’m sure you can guess.’ Marnie gave a tight shrug. ‘She also made it very clear that she didn’t think I should keep my baby. Anyway, a few months later when my son was on the neonatal unit, the person I wanted was my mum but at the same time I didn’t want her. We can’t discuss it, even now.’
‘Have you tried?’
‘Nope.’ Marnie shook her head. ‘And I won’t be trying either.’ She looked at Harry. ‘It couldn’t end nicely.’ Marnie felt uncomfortable now; the only person she really discussed Declan with was her friend Siobhan and, feeling she’d said more than enough, Marnie changed the subject. ‘I’m just very glad that Emily’s father didn’t march in and vent his spleen. She had a big abruption, and she could start bleeding again any time soon,’ Marnie said. ‘That baby’s far from safe.’ She wanted to stop talking about it, she wanted to just end the conversation, to dismiss Harry and get on with her day, except Marnie felt her nose redden and Harry saw a flash of tears in her eyes.
‘Marnie…’ Harry was struggling for words—he was used to death, both personally and professionally, and had it been anyone else he’d have stood, gone over, but it was Marnie, and he didn’t. Not because he didn’t want to, more because of how much he did.
‘It’s fine.’ Marnie filled the silence. ‘I’m fine. It was all just a bit too close to home.’ She blew out a breath. ‘It’s his birthday coming up.’
‘Look, do you want to…?’ Harry’s voice trailed off as there was a knock at the door.
‘Matthew!’ Harry noticed that she flushed a little as a rather well-dressed man entered. ‘What are you doing here?’ Marnie asked.
‘I had a client nearby,’ Matthew said. ‘I thought I might see if you were free for lunch. Oh, and I wanted to tell you in person that I got the tickets.’ He handed an envelope to Marnie. ‘Opening night, don’t ask me how I got them!’
‘Oh!’ Marnie’s anger at having her workspace invaded was temporarily thwarted because, more than anything, she loved the ballet and the opening night had sold out the day the tickets had been released. ‘Wow!’
‘It might be better if you look after them,’ Matthew said, not even bothering to introduce himself to Harry, who had already made up his mind that he didn’t like him.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Harry said, and walked out.
Harry wasn’t sure if he was jealous of Marnie’s freedom or just plain jealous—Harry had been very close to suggesting they leave the department and get lunch.
Stupid idea, Harry, he told himself. Those days were long gone—he kept things well away from work.
A moment or so later he looked up from a patient and saw them walking out of the department, Matthew sliding a hand around Marnie’s waist.
He didn’t like that and neither did Marnie—she wriggled out of Matthew’s embrace and it was clear she was cross.
‘Are you going to show me where you live?’ Matthew asked as she got into his car and he started the engine.
‘Sure,’ Marnie said, her tongue firmly in her cheek. ‘My brother Ronan is over for a couple of days. You can say hi if you like…’
‘Maybe not, then.’
Sitting in a bayside café a little while later, Marnie told him that she was far from impressed.
‘Why would you drop in on me at work?’ Marnie asked.
‘I told you—I was in the area and I wanted to give you the tickets for the ballet or I’d end up losing them. I’m going straight from here to the airport.’
Marnie refused to buy it. ‘Until recently I lived a stone’s throw from your office and I would never have dropped in on you!’ She was angry, very angry—part of the loose arrangement they had was that there would be no popping in. She and Matthew went out now and then. They were social and, yes, they slept together, but they did not invade each other’s lives and that was the way Marnie wanted it. ‘Whatever possessed you?’
‘Okay, okay,’ Matthew said, deciding against suggesting that she call in sick this afternoon. ‘I shan’t stop by again.’ He watched as Marnie’s hand, which had just dipped her bread in oil, paused over the salt. ‘I wouldn’t want to disturb anything.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You and your colleague looked very cosy.’
‘We
