the evening. Feeling too warm, he shifted along the banquette away from the heat of the log fire, his hand coming into contact with his mobile phone as he did so. He’d had no idea it had slipped from his pocket. Surreptitiously he checked the screen, but there were no tell-tale indications of missed calls or texts. What had he expected? That Julia was wrong and Holly had tried to contact him? Disenchanted, his hopes dashed, he refocused his attention on the unwanted companion opposite him.
‘What happened between you and Holly?’ he forced himself to ask, taking a long drink of ice-cold water.
Julia looked sad, but resigned, and the story she told him of her estrangement from her younger sister touched his heart, resonating as it did with his own lack of family. And he couldn’t help but be further disappointed in Holly. Not only had she listened to his explanation about his background but she’d professed her sorrow and understanding. She had even cried for him.
Had they been crocodile tears? It appeared so. If Holly had understood, surely she would have told him about Julia. In one night the only woman he’d ever believed himself in love with had rejected him publicly in front of their colleagues, and he had discovered she had also lied to him by omission. What else didn’t he know about her?
Hurt, upset and confused, he drained his glass before leaning back and closing his eyes. His head was pounding. The virus and the pills were still affecting him, leaving him feeling hot and cold at the same time, his whole body aching, and occasional waves of nausea gripping his stomach.
‘Are you all right?’ Julia asked with concern.
‘I’m sorry.’ He might be a loner, and unused to socialising, but he disliked rudeness, and guilt assailed him for his lack of manners. Gus gave himself a mental shake. ‘I’ve not been feeling too good.’
Julia rose elegantly to her feet and picked up his empty glass. ‘Let me get you another drink. Unless you’d rather have a coffee or something to eat?’
‘No!’ His negative response was swift, the very thought of coffee and food causing his stomach to rebel once more. ‘Just water. Thanks.’
Julia soon returned, this time choosing to sit next to him on the banquette. Disconcerted, Gus nevertheless welcomed the glass of water she handed him, which this time had twists of lemon and lime in it.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured, taking a long drink. It tasted a bit odd, but he was thirsty enough to ignore it—although he did set the citrus slices aside.
‘If it’s any consolation, Gus, it isn’t you. Holly’s shy of commitment. This is by no means the first time that she’s led a man on and given him false hope,’ Julia informed him sadly, the scarlet-tipped fingers of one hand coming to rest on his jean-clad thigh. ‘I think it stems from her engagement all those years ago.’
Diverting his attention from her unwanted touch, Julia’s latest revelation delivered another hammer blow. Gus reeled, turning to Julia in shock.
‘Holly was very young—still a teenager,’ she continued, looking into his eyes, her own gleaming large and wistful. ‘She and Euan were childhood sweethearts—Euan was besotted with her. At the eleventh hour Holly dumped him. Aside from the embarrassment of cancelling arrangements, returning presents and explaining to everyone, Euan was devastated.’ She paused a moment, her expression sombre. ‘There was no reasoning with Holly. She refused to talk with Euan again. Since then she’s done what she’s doing with you … allowed men to get close, only to back off when they want to take things further.’
The engagement was another thing Holly had failed to tell him about. Why? If he was to believe her sister, it was all Holly’s fault. He didn’t want it to be true … it was contrary to all he had thought Holly to be. But after this evening he couldn’t help but wonder who Holly really was and if she’d fooled him completely.
Gus ran a hand through his hair in agitation, wishing his head would clear as he struggled to reconcile what Julia had told him with the Holly he had thought he knew. Feeling increasingly fuzzy-headed and out of sorts, he took another drink.
‘Poor Gus,’ Julia sympathised, leaning closer and resting her arm around his shoulder. ‘This is the last thing you need when you’re feeling so ill. Holly should be here, caring for you.’
‘I’m OK,’ he refuted, frowning in confusion as he heard himself slurring the words. What was wrong with him? He felt worse now than when the virus had been at its most virulent.
With a wry laugh, Julia gave him a hug. ‘Sure you are.’
‘I’m used to being alone.’
‘Me, too,’ Julia confided, all trace of humour gone. ‘And that’s so sad … for both of us.’ She paused, head tilted to one side as she studied him. ‘You should be in bed, Gus. Come on, I’ll help you to your room.’
Finding it difficult to focus on anything, Gus felt too ill to argue. He craved the sanctuary of his room, and allowed Julia to assist him as he summoned his last reserves of energy and struggled to his feet, swaying alarmingly. Julia remained at his side, holding him steady, and he draped an arm around her to brace himself.
He vaguely remembered walking unsteadily out of the bar, but he had no recollection of the journey down the pub’s corridor, nor the arrival at his room. Nor did he have any memories of what had happened next. Only that he’d woken in the morning with a thudding headache, horrified to find that not only was Julia real, and not a figment of his fevered imagination, but she was curled up next to him in bed … and both of them were naked.
Edging away from her, he’d flung an arm across his sore eyes and stifled a groan, a rush of confusion, guilt and self-disgust sweeping through him. The virus, pills and disappointment over Holly’s rejection were not sufficient excuses for his behaviour. And he’d compounded that bad behaviour by pretending to be asleep when Julia stirred so he wouldn’t have to face her. Thankfully she’d seemed as keen as he to avoid a post-mortem as she’d risen and swiftly dressed before quietly letting herself out of his room.
He hadn’t wanted to talk with Julia, but that had been as nothing compared to his reluctance at the thought of seeing Holly—of not only dealing with what he had done, but confronting her about her rejection and the various things she had kept from him. A fresh wave of nausea had assailed him.
Illness had kept him in bed and away from work for another twenty-four hours. Had he known in advance how terrible his return to A&E and the scene with Holly were going to be, he might have stayed in bed for ever.
He’d certainly had no idea how horribly that wretched night would come back to haunt him, destroying his relationship with Holly and resulting in the announcement that Julia was expecting his child. An announcement that had led him into an unwanted, loveless marriage with only months to prepare for his unexpected role as a father.
It had terrified him
It still did, he acknowledged, reality slamming him back to the present. For now he had to push all the pain and emotion of the past from his mind and focus on the baby. His baby—for whom he had sacrificed himself and endured months of unhappiness.
With Julia.
Without Holly.
He listened as Shaun Haggerty responded to Holly’s suggestion about the baby’s prematurity. ‘We will, of course, continue to observe him closely.’
‘You said there was another problem?’ Gus prompted, grateful they were moving on from the awkward issue of conception.
‘Yes.’ The consultant opened a file, glancing at something before looking up again, apology in his eyes. ‘I don’t like to press you on such things at this distressing time, but my concern is your son’s health. So I need to ask … Was your wife drinking during her pregnancy?’
Gus sat back in shock, totally unprepared for the question. ‘No! Absolutely not,’ he refuted, a sick feeling in his stomach.
There was much about Julia he didn’t know. There had been