‘Fantastic. Yes, I got that. You’ve said it three times already. What I really want to hear is all the things you’re not saying.’ Patrick’s mouth tightened and his eyes were suddenly searching. ‘Is this about us?’
‘Us?’ How was she supposed to respond to that? OK, so definitely not like Hayley. She tried to work out what a twenty-first-century woman would say. What would Diane, her stepsister, say? ‘It was fun while it lasted, Patrick. But we both knew it wasn’t practical in the long term. We both have our own lives to lead. You have the children.’
‘I thought you liked the children.’ Patrick’s tone was cautious. ‘I was under the impression you liked them quite a lot.’
‘They’re gorgeous!’ Rubbish answer, Hayley, she thought to herself. You’re thinking like yourself, not like Diane. With a huge effort she forced herself to say words that were so alien it was almost impossible to voice them. ‘But I don’t know how you do it, Patrick. I mean, you have no time to yourself. No time to chill out. They’re always there!’
And she loved that. She really loved that.
‘Yes.’ His voice was strangely flat and he released her suddenly. ‘They are always there.’
‘And I suppose I’m just used to being single. Needing my space.’ Oh, God, she was useless at this. Utterly useless. And she needed to get out of here before she blew it totally. ‘Well, anyway, talking of space—I must go and take a bath. A long soaky bath. It’s been a long day.’
His gaze didn’t shift from her face and Hayley was suddenly terrified that she had Pregnant written on her forehead.
He was an obstetrician, for goodness’ sake, and a skilled one at that. What if he could diagnose pregnancy from a distance?
Why didn’t he say something?
She carried on babbling. ‘I might not join you this evening if you don’t mind.’ For a start, she wasn’t sure she could make it through the evening without sobbing, and on top of that she needed to start acting like a woman who found children a bit much. ‘I’m in the middle of a really good book. I might just sprawl on the bed—you know, veg out, generally relax and do nothing.’
Still he didn’t respond and still his gaze didn’t shift from her face. It was as if he was looking for something.
‘The casserole should be ready by now and I did baked potatoes.’ Her voice tailed off under the intensity of his blue gaze. ‘So, I’ll say goodnight, then, just in
case I don’t see you later.’
She slunk towards the door, heard Alfie crying and fought a desperate urge to go to him. How could she go to him when she’d just claimed that she wanted a child-free evening? But the fact that she couldn’t comfort the little boy—the fact that she was the cause of his tears—made everything even worse.
She was doing it for them, Hayley reminded herself miserably when she eventually slid into the bath and let the tears fall freely.
She was doing it for them.
In the long run, it would be better.
CHAPTER NINE
‘SHE’S leaving? Why would she leave? What did you do to her?’ Maggie stood in front of Patrick’s desk like a sergeant major in a court-martial.
‘Maggie.’ He dragged his gaze from the computer screen. ‘I don’t have time for this now.’
‘Then make time, Patrick Buchannan, because if you let that girl leave this unit, I swear I’ll resign too!’
Patrick sighed. ‘I know she’s a good midwife, but I can’t force her to take a job here.’
‘But she’s leaving because of you! And I want to know why!’
‘I don’t know why!’ Exploding with tension and frustration, Patrick rose to his feet and paced to the far end of his office. ‘Damn it, Maggie, I don’t know why!’
Maggie looked startled. ‘You don’t? I assumed—’
‘You assumed what? That we’d had a row?’ Patrick gave a bitter laugh and turned to stare out of the window. The day was bleak and cold and totally in keeping with his current mood. ‘I wish we had had a row. At least then I would have known what it was about. But this is—’
‘Something happened yesterday in the clinic.’ Maggie sat down in Patrick’s chair, a frown on her face. ‘She came bouncing in, told me that she was in love with you and then she—’
‘Wait a minute.’ Patrick turned, his gaze sharp. ‘She told you she was in love with me?’
‘Yes. Well, virtually. Yes, definitely. Patrick, she’s crazy about you. Surely you don’t need me to tell you that.’