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‘I’m sorry.’ There was an expression she couldn’t read in his eyes, a certain woodenness in his movements as he gave a small smile. ‘I should have been more considerate, I guess…’
‘It’s no big deal.’ Catherine’s smile was equally false. ‘I’m probably being a bit precious.’
‘Catherine, if there is something you need to tell me…’
‘There isn’t.’ Tears were brimming now and she blinked them back, but not quickly enough for Rico’s shrewd glare.
‘When you say it’s due, what exactly do you mean?’
‘That it’s due.’
‘When?’
She swallowed hard, scared to tell him but too terrified to keep it in. ‘A few days ago.’ In an effort to stop her tears Catherine’s nose started to run, and a rather ungracious sniff was the only follow-up to her words. She couldn’t bear to look at him—couldn’t stand to see the knowing look in his eyes, the confirmation, if ever he’d needed it, that she had trapped him.
‘So you could be pregnant?’
‘I don’t know.’ Deliberately she kept her voice light. ‘I’m a few days late, and given all that’s happened—’
‘You must see a doctor.’
Catherine shook her head. ‘It’s too soon—too early…’
‘No!’ Still she couldn’t read his mood. His face was pale, but his gestures were decisive. Picking up the dress he had earlier discarded, he handed it to her. ‘I will telephone the surgery now and have the staff bring the car around. We need to know, Catherine.’
He didn’t wait for her response, assuming as he always did that Catherine would oblige, and left her standing as he marched out of the room. But Rico was right, Catherine admitted as she showered and quickly dressed. They did need to know. They needed to know where they stood—needed to work things out once and for all.
It was their first outing together since the funeral, and the mood in the car was just as lively. Time and again she opened her mouth to speak, to ask Rico about his take on this, but nerves overtook and she shrank back in her seat, staring instead at the parched gardens and trying to fathom her own feelings on the situation.
A baby was the last thing they needed. She knew that—knew their relationship, if you could call it that, was tenuous to say the least. And yet…
Glancing sideways, she took in his profile, her breath catching as it always did at the mere sight of him. It was so easy to remember being held by him, so easy to remember how he had adored her, the delicious place he had taken her to with his skilful lovemaking. That night was etched in her mind indelibly, but it took on more meaning now, and she dragged her eyes away from Rico, staring down at her stomach and trying to imagine a life within, her stomach swelling, ripe with Rico’s child. As mistimed as it was, as calculating as he might deem it, inexplicably it excited her.
‘We’re here.’
Waiting for the driver to open the door, she could scarcely catch her breath, and her legs were like jelly as she stepped out of the car. Clutching Rico’s hand, she walked into a large house, and it was nothing like any doctor’s surgery Catherine had ever seen. But this was Rico’s world, she reminded herself. No crowded waiting rooms for him. No thumbing through ten-year-old magazines or catching a cold from your fellow patients. Instead they were whisked through to an office, where they sat in massive leather seats behind a huge mahogany desk and a doctor introduced himself—a doctor who was as assured and confident as Rico, and, Catherine noted with relief, who didn’t appear to be intimidated by him.
‘Rico, it is good to see you!’ Malcolm Sellers shook hands, smiling at Catherine as he did so. ‘And this must be your lovely new wife.’ He sat down. ‘I was actually about to call you, Rico. Have the police been in touch with you, Catherine?’
Frowning, she shook her head. ‘I haven’t been home since the funeral—but why would they…?’
‘Why have you been calling, Malcolm?’ Rico’s question was direct, and Catherine was grateful for it.
‘The autopsy results are in.’ He let the news sink in for a moment before carrying on. ‘Naturally I don’t have Janey’s results, but with your permission, Catherine, I can ring and have them sent over, if you would like to go through them both together?’
‘That is not what we’re here for.’ Rico’s accent sounded more pronounced and, turning, Catherine saw his hands gripping the sides of the chair, his knuckles white under the strain. ‘We are here for another matter entirely.’
‘Even so,’ Sellers pushed, ‘it might be better for you both to go through the findings with me. There’s going to be an inquest, and knowing the results prior to that might make things just a touch easier when hearing the whole thing played out in court.’
‘We are not here to discuss our siblings, Malcolm. When we choose to do so will make an appointment.’
‘If that’s the way you want it.’ Malcolm Sellers sounded resigned, and Catherine guessed he was all too used to Rico’s stubbornness. ‘But if you do have any questions then you know I’m always here. Now—’ he forced a smile ‘—who’s the patient?’
‘Catherine,’ Rico answered even as she opened her mouth to do so. ‘We would like to arrange some tests.’
‘What sort of tests?’ Dr Sellers’s eyes were on her, but again it was Rico who answered.
‘A pregnancy test.’
