“I want to speak to my solicitor.”
“Of course, sir. As soon as we reach the station.”
When Charles arrived at the constabulary he proved quite incapable of walking in a straight line and refused to provide a blood sample.
“I am the Conservative MP for Sussex Downs.”
Which will not help you, Fiona thought, but he was past listening and only demanded that she phone the family solicitor at Speechly, Bircham and Soames.
After lan Kimmins had spoken first gently, then firmly to Charles his client eventually cooperated with the police.
Once Charles had completed his written statement Fiona drove him home, praying that his stupidity would pass unnoticed by the press the following day.
Andrew even bought a football but hid it from Louise.
As the months passed Louise’s slight frame expanded alarmingly. Andrew would rest his head on the bulge and listen for the heartbeat. “It’s a scrum-half,” he declared.
“Perhaps she’s a center forward,” Louise suggested, “and will want to emulate the distaff side of the family.”
“If he has to be a center forward he will play for Hearts,” Andrew assured her.
“Male chauvinist pig,” she called to his back as he headed off to the Commons that morning. Andrew toyed with the names of Jamie, Robert, Hector, and lain and had settled on Robert before he had reached Westminster. On arrival at New Palace Yard he hailed the policeman on the gate and was surprised to see the familiar figure immediately rush toward him.
Andrew wound down the window. “What’s the problem, officer?”
“Your wife’s been taken to St. Mary’s, Paddington, sir. Emergency wing.”
Andrew would have broken the speed limit all the way to Marble Arch if it hadn’t been for the traffic. He kept praying he would be there in time, but he couldn’t help remembering that Louise was only six months pregnant. When he arrived the doctor on duty would not allow him to see her.
“How is Louise?” were Andrew’s first words.
The young doctor hesitated, then said, “Your wife’s fine, but I’m afraid she’s lost the baby.”
Andrew felt his whole body go limp. “Thank God she’s all right,” he said.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you see her until she has come out of sedation.”
“Of course, Doctor,” said Andrew, glancing at the lapel badge on her white coat.
“But I can see no reason why you shouldn’t have more children in the future,” she added gently, before he had the chance to ask the question.
Andrew smiled with relief and began pacing up and down the corridor, unaware of the passing of time, until the doctor returned and said it would now be all right for him to see his wife.
“I hope you’re not too disappointed?” were Louise’s first words when eventually he was allowed to see her.
“Don’t be
silly—we’ll have a dozen before we’re through,” he said, taking her hand.
She tried to laugh. “Do you know my doctor’s husband?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” said Andrew.
“Simon Kerslake.”
“Good heavens, yes. Very capable fellow. Look aye, lass,” said Andrew, putting on a deep brogue, “you’ll be a new woman after a couple of days’ rest, I’ll guarantee it.”
“And if I’m not?”