Baby on Board: Secret Baby, Surprise Parents / Her Baby Wish / Keeping Her Baby's Secret. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ he’d had nothing, Grace thought. At least her mother did, occasionally, put in an appearance. It was disruptive, unsettling, but it was better than the nothingness that Josh had been left with when his parents had chosen to follow their own desires.

      ‘Michael would have been happy to know that you finally made your dream trip,’ she told him.

      ‘Yes, he would. He wanted everyone to be happy. While I suspect all I wanted to do was make him feel bad…’

      ‘No…’ Her hand was on his arm before she could even think about it, but he stared at the floor as if unable to meet her gaze. ‘Why would he feel bad? You were there. You were thinking of him.’ Then, ‘Did it match the vision?’

      ‘The mountains were beyond anything I could describe, Grace. They made everything else seem so small, so unimportant. I wanted to tell him that. Tell him…’

      ‘He knows, Josh,’ she said, swallowing down the ache in her throat. ‘He knows.’

      ‘You think?’ Josh forced himself to look up, face her. ‘I should have been here. I can’t bear the thought of you having to go through all this on your own….’

      ‘I wasn’t on my own. Everyone helped. Toby was wonderful.’

      Toby.

      Josh felt his guts twist at the name.

      Toby Makepeace. Her ideal man. Reliable. Solid. Always here.

      ‘Michael’s partners took care of all the arrangements for the funeral. And once your father arrived and took charge—’

      ‘He’s here?’

      ‘He flew back straight after the funeral. There was some big debate at the European Parliament that he couldn’t miss.’

      About to make some comment about his father’s priorities, he thought better of it. Who was he to criticise?

      And my mother? Has she raced back to the toy boy in Japan?’

      ‘She’s staying with friends in London.’

      ‘Waiting for the will to be read,’ he said heavily.

      ‘Josh!’ Then, ‘She said she’d come back when you got here. I sent her a text.’

      ‘I refer to the answer I gave earlier.’ Then he shook his head. His issues with his family were solely his concern. ‘I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.’ He pushed his parents from his mind and said, ‘Thank you for sticking with it, Grace. Not just leaving a message with the Sydney office.’

      ‘I wanted to tell you myself, although if I’d realised how long it would take…’

      ‘It must have felt like a year.’

      ‘A lifetime.’ Then, quickly, ‘Your staff were terrific, by the way. Will you thank them for me? If I’d thought about it, I’d have anticipated resistance to handing out contact numbers to someone they don’t know.’

      ‘Of course they know you,’ he said. ‘Do you think I don’t talk about you all?’ Then, almost as if he were embarrassed by this brief outburst, ‘Besides, they have an any time, anywhere list.’

      ‘And I’m on that?’

      ‘We both know that the only time you’d ever call me would be with news I had to hear.’

      Once Grace would have laughed at that.

      If only he knew how many times she’d picked up the phone, her hand on the fast dial number, not to speak to him, but simply to hear his voice. How she’d longed to go back to the way it had once been, when they had been friends… teased one another… told one another everything.

      Almost everything.

      ‘Grace—’

      ‘I’m going to miss Michael so much,’ she said quickly. Taking a step back from the memory of a night that had changed everything. When she’d thrown all that away. ‘There wasn’t a kinder, sweeter—’

      ‘Don’t.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, then, gathering himself, he opened them and looked straight at her. ‘Don’t put him on a pedestal, Grace. Michael wasn’t perfect. He had his faults like the rest of us.’

      Grace was too angry to answer him. Even now he wouldn’t let go of whatever had been driving him…

      Instead, she held Posie close as she got to her feet, supporting her head with her hand. Then, when she didn’t stir, she laid her in the crib beside her chair.

      For a moment her tiny arms and legs waved as if searching for her warmth and her face creased up, as if she was about to cry. Grace laid her hand on her tummy until, reassured by the contact, the baby finally relaxed.

      Once she was settled, Grace crossed to the kettle, turned it on, not because she wanted something to drink, but because anything was better than doing nothing.

      ‘Your flat is ready for you,’ she said, glancing at him. ‘The bed’s made up and you’ll find the basics in your fridge. It’s too late to do anything today and I’m sure you need to catch up on your sleep.’

      ‘I’ll hang on for a while. The sooner I slot back into this time zone, the sooner I’ll beat the jet lag.’

      ‘Is that right? As someone whose only trip overseas was the Isle of Man, I’ll have to take your word for it.’

      ‘The Isle of Man isn’t overseas, Grace.’

      ‘Isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘I wouldn’t advise walking there.’

      That earned her one of those smiles that never failed to light up her insides and, feeling instantly guilty, she looked away.

      ‘There’s a casserole in the oven and I’m just about to eat. I’m not sure what meal time you’re on but, if you’re serious about keeping local hours, you’d be wise to join me.’

      He shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry.’

      ‘Oddly enough,’ she said, ‘neither am I, but unlike you I can’t indulge in the luxury of missing meals.’

      She stopped herself. His body clock must be all over the place and while snapping at him might make her feel better, would certainly help distract her from an almost irresistible urge to throw caution to the winds, fling herself at him and beg him to make it better, it wasn’t fair on him.

      ‘Look, why don’t you go and take a shower? Maybe have a shave?’ she suggested. ‘See how you feel then?’

      He ran a hand over his chin. ‘You don’t like the beard?’

      ‘Beard?’ Under the pretext of assessing the short dark beard that covered his firm chin, cheeks hollowed with exhaustion, she indulged herself in a long look. Finally shaking her head as if in disbelief, she said, ‘Are you telling me that the stubble is deliberate?’

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