coffee,’ he said.
‘Thanks. I really can’t bear the smell of it.’
‘And that’s why I held off on the croissants. Just in case they affected you, too.’ He gestured to the teapot. ‘The tea’s decaf—I thought it might be easier for you to manage.’
‘That’s so sweet.’ He’d made all this effort just for her, and her heart melted. ‘This all looks so nice. Thank you.’
‘I had to guess because I didn’t really know what kind of thing you like for breakfast.’
She blushed. ‘You didn’t stay for breakfast when... Well, you know.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Right at that moment, he looked just as embarrassed and awkward as she felt. She’d been stupid to bring up the issue.
‘I just wanted to do something nice for you,’ he said.
‘And I appreciate it,’ she said meaning it.
He poured her a mug of tea. ‘No sugar, right?’
She loved the fact that he’d actually noticed how she took her tea. ‘Right.’
‘So how are you feeling?’ he asked.
‘Mostly fine. Just as long as I avoid strong smells.’ She smiled. ‘And that should get better in about six weeks, or so I always tell my mums.’
‘It’s usually better by the second trimester,’ he agreed.
‘I thought Sienna was teasing me when she told me that tin cans actually smell when you’re pregnant,’ Ella said, ‘but she’s right. They do.’ She shuddered, and took a sip of the orange juice. ‘This is lovely. Thank you so much. I feel totally spoiled.’
* * *
‘It’s the least I could do.’ Again, Oliver could imagine having breakfast with Ella on Sunday mornings. A lazy breakfast, with toast and tea and the Sunday papers, and then taking the baby out together for a late-morning walk in the park... It shocked him to discover how much he actually wanted that.
A real relationship.
With Ella and their baby.
Thankfully she hadn’t noticed him mooning about, because she asked, ‘So is everything OK with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you’re settling in well to your new job?’
‘Just about,’ he said, smiling back at her. Maybe this was going to work out. They could at least make polite conversation. And they’d been friends before the masked ball. They respected each other as colleagues. He really believed they could salvage something from this now.
He kept the conversation going until they’d finished breakfast and he started clearing the table; then he noticed that there was still something left in the bag he’d brought with him. ‘Oh, I meant to give you this earlier.’ He took the box of vitamins from the bag and handed them to her.
She frowned. ‘What’s this?’
‘Folic acid—obviously now you know about the baby, you need to start taking it.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Her face shuttered. ‘Did it occur to you that I might already have bought a pregnancy vitamin supplement with folic acid?’
‘I—’ He stared at her. No. He hadn’t given it a second thought.
‘Oliver, I’m a midwife. It’d be a bit stupid of me to ignore my years of training about the best way for pregnant women to look after themselves and their babies, wouldn’t it?’
She sounded really put out, though he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. All he’d done was buy her some vitamins. ‘I was just trying to help. To look after you.’
‘To take over, more like,’ she said.
‘But—’
‘Do you think I’m suffering from “pregnancy brain” and I’m completely flaky?’ she asked. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘And, for your information, “pregnancy brain” is a total myth. I came across a piece on the news the other day that said actually women’s brains are sharper when they’re pregnant.’
What? Where was all this coming from? He didn’t understand. ‘Ella, I didn’t accuse you of anything of the sort.’
‘No, but you bought me folic acid without even thinking that I might already have some. There’s a huge difference between asking me if you can pick something up for me, and just presenting me with it as if I’m too stupid to have thought of it for myself.’
‘You’re overreacting.’
‘Am I?’ She folded her arms. ‘If this is how it’s going to be for the next seven and a half months, with you looking over my shoulder all the time and making decisions for me without even bothering to discuss things with me first...’ Again, she shook her head. ‘That’s really overbearing and that’s not what I want, Oliver. Actually, right now I think I’d like you to leave and give me some space.’
He stared at her in disbelief. ‘All I want to do is to protect you and the baby, and provide for you. How’s that being overbearing?’
* * *
Could he really not see it? Ella wondered. ‘It’s overbearing because you’re not discussing anything with me. You’ve made the decision already and you’re expecting me to just shut up and go along with it.’ She’d been there before: when everyone thought that little Ella wasn’t bright enough to train as a midwife. She hated the way Oliver seemed to be falling into those same attitudes and thinking he knew what was best for her. She’d had years of feeling undermined and useless, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. ‘And if you dare say that’s just pregnancy hormones making me grumpy, I’ll...I’ll...’ She was too angry to think of what she’d do next. So much for thinking he wanted to cherish her. What an idiot she was, letting herself fall a little more in love with a control freak who wanted to boss her around.
‘Ella, this is—’
‘I need some space. Thank you for the flowers and breakfast, because that was very nice of you, but I’d really like you to leave now. Please.’
‘What about the washing up?’
‘I think I might just about be capable of sorting that out for myself.’ She stood up and gestured to the doorway. ‘Would you give me some space, please?’
* * *
Maybe making a tactical retreat would be the best thing to do right now, Oliver thought. ‘All right.’
He wasn’t sure whether her reaction had made him more hurt or angry. He’d tried to do the right thing, but Ella was being totally unreasonable. He’d never called her intelligence into question. Why on earth would she think he had?
Despite
