Consequences of a Hot Havana Night

If only this was Jimmy’s baby it would all be so much simpler...

‘Kitty—’

She knew her expression must have changed, and that he’d noticed. She could hear it in his voice. But, striving to keep her own voice on an even keel, she cut him off. ‘What time is the scan?’

He stared at her, and for a few half-seconds she thought he was going to rewind the conversation, but after a brief silence he said, ‘Eleven o’clock.’

‘Okay. I’ll be ready.’ They were inside the ho

use now, and she glanced pointedly upstairs. ‘I’m feeling a little tired, so I’m going to go and have a lie-down.’

He stepped back. ‘Then I’ll let you go. I’ll see you at eleven.’

And, turning, he walked away from her towards the kitchen.

She watched him disappear. If he had turned he would have seen the way her eyes followed him. But he didn’t turn and, feeling a stab of betrayal that was as baffling as it was painful, she turned and began climbing up the stairs.

* * *

Kitty was relieved to discover that the clinic César had chosen looked more like an upmarket hotel than a private hospital. In the car on the way over she had been tense, her stomach knotting as memories of the numerous trips she’d made to hospital with Jimmy kept floating into her mind, but the foyer was clean and modern, and the smiling staff were dressed to match the decor in varying shades of taupe and cream.

And now she was lying on a bed, her bare stomach covered in gel, as the female sonographer moved the probe over her skin, tilting it from one side to the other, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her.

‘There we are,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s your baby.’

Kitty glanced up at the screen and felt her heart contract. The sonographer spoke very good English, which was lucky. Because had she been speaking Spanish, it would have been easy for her to think that something had got lost in translation.

Her breathing was suddenly out of time. She could hardly believe it. The baby was tiny, but it was real. She really was pregnant. It was extraordinary, impossible, miraculous. But, like all real miracles, it was undeniable.

‘And this is the head...that’s a leg and a foot...and that’s the heartbeat.’

The sonographer was smiling at her and she smiled back dazedly. She’d held that positive test in her hand, but up until this moment she hadn’t believed it was actually happening, hadn’t wanted to believe it was true for fear of disappointment. But it was true. Finally it had happened. And she felt so blissfully and unconditionally happy that it was as though her whole body was filled with light.

‘Is everything okay?’ she said quietly.

The other woman nodded.

‘Baby’s CRL is just under three centimetres, so I think we’re looking at about nine weeks. When you see Dr Moreno you can discuss booking a second scan. We’ll be able to see a lot more detail then, but right now everything looks great. Now, I’m guessing you’ll want a photo?’

Kitty found her voice. ‘Yes, please—and thank you.’

Her eyes found César. Since shaking hands with the sonographer he hadn’t said a word, but she had expected him to echo her thanks, to see a reciprocal joy on his face. Only he didn’t speak. He just kept staring at the screen, his expression intense, his eyes fixed on the shifting image.

She was about to prompt him when a low but distinctive buzzing filled the small room.

‘Sorry, I need to take this.’

He didn’t sound sorry and, glancing over, she saw that he didn’t look it either.

Pulling out his phone, he stood up. ‘Excuse me. José, gracias por llamarme...’

Watching the door close behind him, she felt a slippery rush of panic. She’d pictured this moment inside her head so many times in the past, and it wasn’t supposed to look like this.

Her heart was suddenly too big for her chest. But why had she ever thought this would work with him? She didn’t know this man, so how could she begin to know how he would react to anything? More importantly, how could she expect to bring up a child with him?

* * *

Picking up his coffee cup, César glanced at the darkening sky. The air was hot and sticky. It was going to rain—and it needed to rain to break the tension in the air.