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for privacy. ‘Jessica, now’s really not a good time; I came back from work because I don’t feel well.’
‘Oh!’ Jessica moved Lily to the other hip. ‘It’s just…’
Still Jessica followed her. They were at the bedroom door now, and Catherine’s stomach was cramping painfully.
‘Just what, Jessica?’ Her words came out too harsh and Catherine instantly regretted them, but she simply didn’t have the energy to take them back. She ached to lie on the bed, to close the door on the world, but still Jessica hovered.
‘It can wait…’ Jessica’s voice trailed off, and the young girl swallowed uncomfortably. ‘It doesn’t matter, Mrs Mancini. I’ll let you rest.’
She lay there in the vast lonely bed, trying to relax, trying to give her baby, if it was still there, its very last chance.
Something that wasn’t meant to be.
Malcolm Sellers’s words rang in her ears.
Everything around her seemed to be slipping away and she was powerless to stop it. This baby meant so much to her—a spark of hope, a bond that would bind her to the man she loved, something good and true and real to cling to—and now, as sure as the night followed day, she was losing it.
No!
From the ashes hope resurfaced, a tiny stirring of the strong woman she was. She would fight this, fight till it was over. Till someone actually told her that her child was gone she would cling on for dear life, do everything possible to protect the life within. Concentrating on keeping her breathing even, she ignored the cramping pain, drifting away to a place that was gentle and kind, melting into the solace she had glimpsed in Rico’s arms.
Somehow amidst the ruins she found the haven of sleep, her hands resting on her stomach, trying to hold her child within, fitful dreams causing her to cry out. As if in response she heard Rico’s footsteps on the stairs, the bedroom door opening on his pale tense face. Dr Sellers walked in behind him, and one look at the two men’s faces dashed her faintly flickering hopes there and then, told her it had all been in vain.
‘I’m sorry, Catherine.’ Dr Sellers was sitting on the bed, taking one of her pale hands in his. Her eyes darted to Rico, trying somehow to gauge his reaction. But he stared sternly ahead, his eyes fixedly avoiding hers, his jaw set in stone, muscles quilting around his face and his hands clenched by his sides as the verdict was delivered. ‘Your hormone levels have dropped since I took your blood last week. They’re supposed to go up,’ he added gently, as Catherine shook her head against the pillow, pulling her hand away and shielding her eyes with it, trying to block out a world that seemed to relish the dirt it dished out to her.
‘It’s called a blighted ovum, which means that there was a pregnancy, but only fleetingly. Quite simply, it never progressed beyond the very early stages. As I said in my office, sometimes this is nature’s way of letting go and, hard as it is, you have to remember that. It was simply not meant to be.’
Not meant to be.
He could have been talking about her and Rico.
A love that had surely been there, however fleetingly, but that quite simply couldn’t grow—no matter how she wanted it to, how she nurtured it, needed it. A love that wasn’t meant to be.
‘This is no one’s fault,’ Dr Sellers continued, pulling her hand down and trying to look her in the eye, but as her eyes shot to Rico he turned to him also. ‘Neither of you must blame yourselves or each other for what has happened.’
Wasted words.
One look at Rico and she knew she had lost him for ever. One look at his black coal-chip eyes staring stonily ahead and Catherine knew that quite simply it was over.
‘It’s not you I’m worried about.’
The recollection of his words taunted her now. The baby had been his priority and she had lost it for him—had followed her heart, ignoring her aching, tired body, and gone to work. Rico would never, ever forgive her.
If ever he had despised her that paled into insignificance now, as Dr Sellers left them alone. Rico was a distant figure, standing resolute and unreachable by the bed, and Catherine ached for him to sit beside her, to take her in his arms and tell her it was all okay.
‘Rico…’ It was all she could manage, but he didn’t respond to her lonely cry, just stared fixedly ahead.
Lily’s cries filled the hall, and they seemed to pierce her soul, a painful reminder of all she had lost. Rico pulled a blanket from the wardrobe, laid it over her, and for a second so small it was barely there he held her gaze, his eyes laced with pain, confusion, fear, even, and she ached to comfort him, for him to comfort her, for them to hold each other and weep for what they had just lost.
But just as quickly as he’d met her gaze he pulled away, his voice harsh and austere, a world away from the tenderness they had shared last night. ‘Try and sleep.’
‘Please don’t leave me.’
‘I have to go to Lily.’ Still he didn’t look at her, his voice as cold and removed as if he were addressing a stranger.
‘Jessica can take care of Lily for a moment.’
‘Jessica is at the shops,’ Rico responded briskly, but still Catherine persisted.
