The Midwife's Child

‘It’s incredible…’ She wandered round his huge living room, staring at the squashy inviting sofas and the stunning prints on the walls. Despite her anxieties, she gave a chuckle and he looked up as he closed the fridge door, a bottle of white wine in his hand.

‘What’s funny?’

‘The thought of Toby on your white sofas.’ She giggled, her dark eyes dancing. ‘I think you might change your mind about having us as house guests once he wakes up.’

Jed grinned in appreciation and yanked the cork out of the bottle. ‘Well, I might ban muddy wellies but apart from that I’ll take my chances.’

‘You’re a brave man, then,’ Brooke said dryly, taking a glass of wine with a smile of thanks. ‘Toby is a real little boy, I’m afraid, without much respect for cleanliness, but you should know that by now, having seen him in action at your parents’ house.’

‘It’s not a showpiece, Brooke,’ he protested mildly, sinking into one of the sofas and stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘The house is meant to be lived in.’

She tried not to look at the firm muscle of his strong thighs or the breadth of his shoulders. He had an incredible physique. If she hadn’t known how gentle he could be, his size would have been quite intimidating.

‘Are you hungry?’ He was watching her closely and she shook her head, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts. Having him so close was torture. She was desperate to touch him. Desperate. But she couldn’t…

‘I’m still full from lunch.’ Her voice was husky and she gave him a slightly shy smile. ‘Your mum’s birthday cake is the best and she serves giant portions.’

He laughed. ‘Well, that’s true enough. She’s used to feeding hungry men. You must want something to eat—I’ve got some nice cheese and some French bread. Does that appeal?’

‘Delicious. I’ll do it.’ Brooke sprang up and walked towards the kitchen, anxious to put some distance between them. The temptation to touch him was so strong she was afraid she might do something stupid.

‘You’re very jumpy.’ He stood up and followed her, his eyes searching. ‘Is something wrong?’

She rummaged in the fridge, hiding her face. ‘Nothing. I’m fine. Brie and Dolcelatte?’

‘Sounds good.’ He cut some French bread and tossed it into a basket, adding butter and fruit to a tray. ‘Let’s eat in front of the fire. It’s such a foul night I need the comfort, and I bet you do, too.’

For the first time she realised that he’d lit the fire and it was now blazing merrily, the focal point for the huge living room.

He pulled up a table and moved one of the sofas closer, giving Brooke no choice but to sit down next to him. She sat as near the edge of the sofa as she could, and if he noticed, he didn’t comment.

‘So, talk to me, Brooke.’ He handed her a plate filled with different bits and pieces and did the same for himself.

She put the plate on her knee and stared at him. ‘Talk to you?’

‘Yes. Over the past weeks we’ve talked about lots of things, but never details.’ His firm mouth twitched slightly and he handed her a knife. ‘I want details.’

‘What sort of details?’

‘Well, let’s start with Toby.’ He ate some grapes and spread some soft cheese onto his bread. ‘What was he like as a baby? Did he go to playgroup? What was he interested in? Animals? Tractors?’

Brooke smiled. ‘Well, both of those.’ Haltingly at first she started to talk, filling him in on Toby’s life from birth until his first day at school, painting a vivid picture of life with a lively little boy.

Jed listened carefully, occasionally refilling her wineglass or asking the odd question, but otherwise silent and attentive.

‘And what about your delivery? What was that like?’

‘Jed, for goodness’ sake!’ Brooke flushed with embarrassment and Jed laughed softly.

‘I can’t believe you’re shy. We made him together, Brooke! Surely it’s not that much of a personal question?’

It seemed very personal and she blushed even deeper as she filled him in on the details of her labour, which had fortunately been relatively trouble-free, despite Toby’s prematurity.

‘Did you feed him yourself?’

‘Yes, although obviously he was tube-fed for the first few weeks in Special Care. I expressed milk at first and then once he learned to suck I fed him myself.’

‘Good for you.’ Jed’s eyes were warm. ‘Lots of women with babies in Special Care have a problem getting them to breast-feed.’