‘Being a parent is the hardest thing in the world.’ She stroked her daughter’s hair with a gentle hand and instinctively Miranda knew what she was thinking. That her daughter was now a parent, too.
Angie sniffed. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mum.’
‘What do you want to do, love? Whatever you choose, we’ll support you.’
Miranda felt warmth and admiration spread through her. Lucky Angie, she thought to herself. Her mother wasn’t trying to take over or dictate. She was trying to help her daughter make grown-up decisions by herself.
‘I want to keep her.’ Angie looked at her mother uncertainly. ‘That’s stupid, isn’t it? I haven’t even seen her yet but I know I want to keep her. When I thought she was dead I couldn’t stop crying and now I know she’s alive—’
‘Why is it stupid?’ Her mother straightened her shoulders. ‘She’s our flesh and blood. There’ll be enough willing helpers, that’s for sure. Of course we’re going to keep her. She’s family.’
* * *
It was two o’clock by the time Jake managed to persuade Miranda to leave, and he was worried by how drained and exhausted she looked.
‘Are you all right? You haven’t said a word since we left the hospital.’ Knowing that she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, Jake made a mug of hot chocolate because he knew she loved it. ‘Drink this and then go to bed. I’ve already agreed with Ruth that you’re ha
ving tomorrow off. And just to make sure that you don’t lift a finger, I’m having tomorrow off, too. After tonight’s events, I think we both deserve it.’
‘OK.’ She didn’t seem to be listening to him. And she didn’t touch the hot chocolate—just stared into the mug and watched a skin form on the milk.
Deciding that sleep was the priority, he gently eased the mug from her hands and pulled her to her feet.
‘You need to go to bed.’ He led her up the stairs, opened her bedroom door and gently nudged her inside. ‘You did brilliantly with Angie, by the way. She’s going to be all right now.’
‘Is she? What about the baby?’
He frowned. ‘The baby is doing well, Miranda. Thanks to the fact that you discovered her so quickly, she’s going to be fine.’
‘But what sort of life will she have?’ Miranda turned to look at him and her dark eyes were huge and sad. ‘Goodnight, Jake.’ She closed the door, leaving him on the outside battling with a powerful inclination to go back inside and drag her into his arms.
He stared at the closed door, trying to work out what was going on in her mind.
What had she meant by that comment about the baby?
He ran a hand over the back of his neck, trying to decide what to do. She was tired, he reasoned, and pregnant women were always more emotional when they were tired.
The best thing was for her to have a good night’s sleep.
They could talk in the morning.
He strolled into his bedroom and glanced at the clock with a humourless laugh. It was already morning.
He went to bed and woke suddenly to darkness and the sound of noises coming from the kitchen.
Miranda?
Tugging on his jeans, he padded downstairs.
She was sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Her dark hair flopped forward, hiding her face from his view, but he knew from the movement of her shoulders that she was crying. He swore softly under his breath and went straight to her, dragging out the chair next to her and sitting down.
‘Miranda?’ He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. ‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’
For a long moment she didn’t answer and then she lifted her head and the pain in her eyes shocked him.
‘I just k-keep thinking about B-Bonnie.’ She hiccoughed and he frowned slightly as he stroked her shoulders gently.
‘Bonnie? But she’s fine, angel. Doing really well. Thanks to you.’