‘Beth’s had a fall. I’m ringing on her phone because when the ambulance came I forgot mine but Beth’s was in her handbag.’
Blow whose phone he was using. ‘Where are you? What’s happened?’ she said urgently. ‘Is Beth badly hurt?’
‘We’re at the hospital. Beth fell down the cellar steps earlier. Why the hell she went down there without telling me I don’t know; apparently she wanted to sort the last of the packing cases we stored down there when we moved. It had something in she wanted for the baby’s room. The first I knew I heard her scream—’ His voice broke, then he went on, ‘She landed awkwardly, Willow. They—they think the baby’s coming.’
A month early. Endeavouring to keep the alarm out of her voice, she said quickly, ‘It might be a false labour, Peter. A reaction to the fall. Things might calm down. They often do.’
‘No, we thought that at first but now they’re pretty sure it’s coming. Her waters have broken and everything.’
‘Three or four weeks early is nothing these days,’ she said reassuringly, ‘and babies are tougher than you think. It’ll be fine, I know it will. Beth’s healthy so don’t worry.’
‘She’s asking for you. Is there any chance of you coming to the hospital tonight? She…she needs you with her, Willow.’
She didn’t have to think about it. ‘Absolutely. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll leave straight away.’
‘Drive carefully though, the roads are already getting pretty bad,’ Peter said worriedly. ‘When you get here, go to the maternity reception and they’ll direct you. OK? I’ll tell them you’re coming and explain so there won’t be any problems.’
‘That’s fine. Now get back to Beth and hold her hand, and don’t forget to give her my love and tell her I’m on my way.’
‘Thanks, Willow.’ His voice was husky. ‘I appreciate it.’
She stared at the phone for a stunned moment once the call had finished, and then leapt into action. Five minutes later she was dressed in warmer clothes, the fire was banked down and the guard was in place, and everything was off that needed to be off.
When she opened the front door and the force of the wind threatened to tear it out of her fingers, she realised how bad the storm had become. Already the snow was inches thick and it showed no signs of abating, just the opposite.
Pulling her hat more firmly over her ears, she staggered to the car, wondering if she was going to be able to get out of the lane, let alone all the way to the hospital. In the event she needn’t have worried. The engine was as dead as a dodo.
She tried everything, including crying, praying and finally stamping her feet and screaming like a two-year-old. It was after this she accepted she was going nowhere in this car tonight. She would have to phone for a taxi. It was going to cost a small fortune but it wasn’t the time to count the cost. Beth needed her. Whatever it took, she was going to get to that hospital. ‘Hold on, Beth,’ she prayed. ‘I’m coming.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
MORGAN sat staring down at the papers on his desk. He’d been sitting in the same position for a while, his mind replaying for the umpteenth time the whole disastrous last conversation with Willow. In fact ever since he’d got home and immediately gone to his study, telling Kitty he had some urgent financial reports to look through, he’d been dissecting every word, every gesture, every glance they’d exchanged. It had been a relief when Kitty and Jim had turned in early due to the weather, and he’d had the house to himself. He appreciated Kitty’s motherly concern for his welfare, but there was the odd occasion when he was very thankful their flat was situated over the garages and separate from the main house, and this was one of them. He couldn’t stand her fussing tonight.
He scowled at the inoffensive papers. He didn’t know how Kitty knew he’d fed most of his supper to the dogs, but she’d looked at the empty plate and then at him and asked him point blank if he and Willow had had an argument. He’d snapped at her then, something he felt guilty about now.
Moving restlessly, he rose to his feet and went to stand by the fire, his back to the flames. She was a good woman, Kitty. Gentle, kind. If he’d been placed with someone like her as a boy, his childhood would have been different.
Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself, for crying out loud. Self-contempt brought him straightening his shoulders before he bent to pick up another log to throw on the fire.
He’d been lucky. Overall, he’d been very lucky to get to where he was now. He’d worked hard, of course, but then so did lots of folk who never got the break he’d got. One of his friends had said he’d got the Midas touch where business was concerned, and maybe he had. It had enabled him to rise in the world, to become more wealthy and successful than he had ever dreamed of in his youth, and he had dreamed plenty.