Jack's Baby

Maurice’s question broke through the glaze of horror in his mind. They were looking quizzically at him. Had he missed something? Apart from a nine-month pregnancy?

“Sorry.” He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard. “I was just thinking how great the three of you look together.”

Ingrid laughed. “Time you found yourself a wife and started a family, Jack.”

Join the club. They all said that. Once they were caught in the family trap, it was as though anyone who was free of it was an offensive reminder of what they’d given up. The hell of it was he might very well have a child somewhere on this ward, a child whose mother had decided was better off fatherless than having Jack in their lives.

“Aren’t you thirty-something?” Ingrid persisted.

“Darling, I’m forty,” Maurice reminded her. “Age has nothing to do with it. If I hadn’t met you, I’d still be a freewheeling bachelor like Jack.”

Jack didn’t want to be a freewheeling bachelor. He wanted Nina. He didn’t care if she came with a child. He wanted Nina. The need and desire for her burgeoned out of the emptiness that had haunted the past eight months, growing with compelling force, overpowering all his objections to babies.

A little scrap of humanity like the one in Ingrid’s arms couldn’t beat him. He’d learn how to handle the child. He’d never had a problem handling anything once he set his mind to it. If Nina needed proof of that, he’d give it to her.

Babies were probably only destructive monsters because parents allowed them to take over. Jack was made of sterner stuff. Having seen the damage babies wrought on relationships, he could take protective steps and save Nina and himself a lot of unnecessary stress. It was all a matter of attitude and organisation.

What he needed was a plan.

He also needed definite facts instead of suppositions. A plan could very quickly come unstuck if he didn’t have his facts right. Therefore, step one was to grab a nurse and make a few pertinent inquiries.

“You know, Jack—” Ingrid eyed him speculatively “—I have a few girlfriends you might enjoy meeting.”

The good old matchmaking trick.

Jack smiled. He didn’t even have to force it. His heart had lifted with a swelling sense of purpose. “Actually, Ingrid, I’m on my way to meet a lady I’m very interested in. If you and Maurice will excuse me…It’s a delight to see you so happy, and I hope the new son and heir thrives as he should under your loving care. He’s sure to be a great kid.”

Pleasure all around.

Having delivered his benevolent performance, Jack was well-wished on his way. In truth, he was feeling benevolent towards Maurice and Ingrid. Even their baby. They’d done him a great favour. If it wasn’t for them he wouldn’t have come here, wouldn’t have seen Nina and put two and two together.

Only in this case, two and two were going to make three. Jack had no compunction about changing the mathematics of the situation. He was determined on being counted in, not out.

CHAPTER FOUR

VISITING hours had ended ten minutes ago. Nevertheless, Nina apprehensively checked the ward corridor, glancing swiftly to both right and left, confirming an all clear before scooting out of the elevator. It was only fifteen metres to her room. She covered the distance as fast as she could without actually running. Hearing Sally’s cheerful voice still rattling away was an assurance that everything was normal.

No-one called out her name. Jack didn’t suddenly emerge from one of the rooms in front of her. She reached her door, and with a thundering sense of being home free swung into the room and quickly closed the door behind her, safeguarding against a casual glance inside from any passer-by.

“There you are,” Sally said with satisfaction. “I was about to send out a search party.”

“Sorry.” Nina turned to her friend, flashing an appeasing smile, and the world tilted as Jack filled her vision, Jack cradling her baby in the crook of his arm. She feebly fumbled for the door, instinctively seeking support, feeling herself sway alarmingly.

“Are you okay?” Anxious question from Sally.

“Here! Quick!” Jack, commanding.

Double vision. Two Jacks bundling babies into two Sallys’ arms, furniture wavering all over the place. Nina closed her eyes. Too difficult to get things straight. Hopelessly dizzy.

Strong arms hooking around her, scooping her off her feet, carrying her, sitting her on the side of the bed, holding her safe, thrusting her head down. “Deep breaths, Nina. Sally, put the kid in its bassinette and pour Nina a glass of water.”

The kid.

A murderous haze billowed into Nina’s fuzzy mind. Her baby—the baby who’d grown inside her for nine long, miserable, l

onely months—dismissed as a kid! If she had the strength, she’d put her hands around Jack’s neck and strangle him. How dared he come in here, after all he’d said, and actually hold the child he didn’t want, pretending he didn’t mind?

The kid. Not the baby. Not our daughter. The kid. That said it all to Nina. He probably hadn’t even asked what sex the baby was. Didn’t care. Her heart pumped with furious vigour, clearing her head so fast she didn’t need the glass of water Sally pressed into her hand.