CHAPTER NINE

‘I’M AFRAID there could be one or two complications.’

Campion stared at the specialist.

‘What kind of complications?’ she croaked, her rebellious stomach heaving.

It had been like this ever since Christmas, and now, on a bleak, freezing cold January day, she had just received very definite confirmation that she was pregnant.

‘A vitamin deficiency—nothing that can’t be put right, but I’m afraid your pregnancy won’t be easy. Of course,’ he looked down at his immaculate desk and then back at her, ‘you could always go for a termination.’

It took several seconds for the words to sink through, but, when they did, she was horrified.

Abort Guy’s baby? Never!

‘No! No, I don’t want to do that.’

‘No, I can see that. Well, if you’re sensible,’ he paused and looked hard at her, ‘if you eat and rest properly… Of course, we’ll have to monitor your progress. The baby’s due in August. It’s January now. You’re going to have to take things very quietly for the next six weeks.’ Unspoken, but there none the less, was the threat of a possible miscarriage.

Campion listened as he talked about tests and vitamins, but her mind was only half on what he was saying.

She had known before, of course, that she was pregnant, but she had not known until now how much she wanted her child. She would do anything, anything to protect its fragile hold on life.

‘You work as a writer. Writers forget to eat, they become absorbed in what they’re doing. It might be a good idea if you stopped work for the next six weeks. Do you live alone?’

Campion nodded.

‘Mmm… Do you have any family? A friend you could stay with?’

So he didn’t trust her to obey him on her own.

‘No family. Some friends, but…’

Tactfully, he had said nothing about her baby’s father, other than to ask for medical details, which she hadn’t been able to supply.

‘I shall be perfectly all right on my own,’ she told him brightly, preparing to leave.

But would she? Her flat depressed her. A London flat was no place in which to bring up a child. A child needed a home—a proper home.

So…she could work just as easily outside London. She could find herself a small house somewhere.

The specialist had given her several information sheets to read. She made herself a cup of coffee—decaffeinated now, for the baby’s sake—and sat down to read them.

The ring on the doorbell surprised her. She wasn’t expecting any visitors. She went to answer it, surprised to see Lucy outside.

Her friend, now well into her pregnancy, really was blooming. Campion felt drained and lifeless in comparison.

‘I came up to London to do some shopping. I haven’t heard from you for ages, and so I decided—’ She broke off and stared at the leaflets. ‘Campion, what on earth’s all this stuff? My God! You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’

Common sense warned her to deny it, but her mind didn’t seem to work very quickly these days.

Lucy sat down and stared at her. ‘It’s Guy’s, isn’t it? You’re having his child. Oh, Campion, why didn’t you tell me?’

Ridiculously, Campion was crying. She seemed to cry a lot these days—hormones, she supposed.

‘Does he know? Have you told him? Will you tell him?’

‘No, no and no again,’ she sniffed. ‘It was an accident, more my fault than Guy’s.’ She blushed when she saw the way Lucy was looking at her. ‘I want this baby, Lucy,’ she added quietly, not really knowing what impelled her to say the words out loud.

Lucy wasn’t listening to her. She had picked up one of the information sheets, and she was reading it with a frown.

‘Something’s wrong, isn’t it?’ she demanded. ‘You’re not well…’

Campion measured her chances of deceiving her, and decided that they were too slim.

‘A vitamin deficiency. The specialist says I should be all right, but I’ve got to give up work for six weeks, and then… What on earth are you doing?’ she demanded, as Lucy got up and went into her bedroom. She followed her and watched as she opened cupboards and drawers.

‘Lucy!’ she protested.

‘You’re coming home with me right now. No, don’t argue! I’m not leaving you here on your own.’ She turned to her, her expression unusually fierce.

‘I’ve lost one child, Campion. I wouldn’t want anyone to have that experience, least of all you. Come home with me. We’ll be company for one another.’

‘I…I can’t! What will Howard say?’

‘He’ll be delighted. He’s got to spend some time in the States. He’ll feel much happier about leaving me if he knows I’ve got you for company, and we can talk babies all day long if we feel like it. Mrs T will be in her element with two of us to boss around!’

She oughtn’t to give in so weakly, but the temptation was too much to resist.

* * *

‘Why won’t you tell Guy?’ Lucy asked her when they were both sitting in the Rolls. Paul had expressed no surprise at being informed that Campion was going home with them.

‘He wouldn’t want to know.’

‘Oh, God, that insecurity complex of yours! He wanted you, Campion. He made love to you.’

‘No, he didn’t want me,’ Campion told her quietly, slowly repeating what she had overheard.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Lucy said flatly. ‘Guy would never do anything like that.’

‘But he did,’ Campion told her gently. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over, finished…’ She leaned back against the leather upholstery and closed her eyes.

Seeing her exhaustion and frail hold on her self-control, Lucy fell silent. Now wasn’t the time, and Campion hadn’t the strength. Perhaps later…

* * *

Campion told Helena that she was taking a sabbatical, and that she would be in touch with her later in the year. She also told her that she had decided against entering into another contract with Adam Hart.

There were other publishers, and for now she had enough money to take care of both herself and her child comfortably for some time to come. Gradually, she was finding that she was becoming more and more self-absorbed, and more and more wrapped up in her coming child.

In March, she had a check-up. The specialist was pleased with her progress, and cautiously optimistic that the danger had been overcome.

At the end of the month, when the daffodils were budding and a cold, clean wind swept the sky, sending the clouds scudding like a busy broom, Howard came home for a brief stay.

Things were not going well with the American side of his business. He was in partnership with two Americans, and he was considering closing down that side of his operation.

On Saturday, Campion went out for a walk so that they could have some time together. She wasn’t looking forward to her eventual return to London, and she was now seriously considering buying a small house in the locality. Lucy lived in a very pleasant part of the world, as yet unspoiled by any rush of London commuters. Someone a long time ago had planted the park surrounding the house with a vast profusion of bulbs, and Campion paused to admire them as she strolled towards the gates.

Her ultimate destination was the village, almost a mile away, where she had promised Lucy that she would buy bread, and where she also wanted to call on the local estate agent.

The road from the house to the village was relatively quiet, the odd car sped past her, one even slowed down and as she glanced up she had a fleeting impression of a dark haired woman and several children crammed inside the large estate car.

She was tired when she reached the village. It was surprisingly hard work, struggling against the buffeting wind.

She sat down on a wooden seat to get her breath. A group of teenagers on bicycles were chatting outside the newsagent. A woman emerged with three children in tow, and Campion stiffened as she recognised Guy’s sister…Meg Drummond, she remembered.

This was a meeting she could not blame Lucy for.

She ducked her head instinctively, even though, as far as she knew, the other woman had no idea who she was—nor surely would want to speak to her if she did. But when she looked back, after what she judged was a suitable interval, she was horrified to see the woman walking determinedly towards her.

‘I have to talk to you,’ she announced without preamble. ‘I know who you are. Guy pointed you out to me at the children’s party. I can’t…’

She gasped as Campion stood up hurriedly, her coat catching in the breeze and blowing open to reveal the betraying swell of her body.

‘Guy was right!’ She drew away from Campion, as though she were in some way contaminated. ‘I didn’t think he could be.’ She sounded almost dazed. ‘I…he told me not to interfere. He said you were involved with someone else.’ She looked at Campion’s swollen stomach and then away again, and demanded fiercely, ‘Do you realise what you’ve done to him?’

Campion stared at her. ‘What I’ve done to him?’

‘Yes,’ the other woman said bitterly. ‘We used to tease him and tell him that he’d never fall in love, that he was too self-sufficient. Oh, God, how I wish that we’d been right!’

None of what she was hearing made sense. Campion turned to walk away, and gasped as cramp attacked her muscles. She couldn’t move. An intense feeling of panic and fear rushed through her, and the sky seemed to fall down towards her. She blinked unsteadily, and in the distance heard a woman say huskily, ‘Tom! Quick, run and get Daddy.’ And then the whole world turned black, and she was sucked down into warm darkness.

When she came round, she was sitting on the bench. A man held her wrist, measuring her pulse. Meg Drummond sat beside her, watching her with anxious, guilty eyes, and three identical pairs of grey eyes stared curiously at her.

‘See? She isn’t dead, after all. I told you she wasn’t,’ the tallest said scornfully to his siblings.

‘Tom, please! I’m so sorry…I didn’t…’

‘What my wife is trying to tell you,’ the man’s voice interrupted pleasantly, ‘is that she wants to apologise for her impulsive outburst. How do you feel?’

‘Fine, I’m fine,’ Campion lied mechanically. She wanted them all to go away. She wanted to be left alone in peace, without these reminders of Guy pressing in all around her. How like him his nephews were…or was the smallest one a girl? Hard to tell with that short hair and those jeans. She felt muzzy and weak; the thought of the walk back to the house made her quail.

‘Mmm…’ The man’s voice was professionally non-committal. He had to be a doctor.

‘How far advanced is your pregnancy?’

‘Four months.’ She said it without thinking.

‘Four months?’ Guy’s sister stared at her. ‘But—’ she broke off and said hurriedly to her husband. ‘Tait, I think we should give her a lift home. She isn’t in any fit state to walk.’

‘Yes, I agree.’ He released Campion’s wrist and smiled calmly at her. ‘My wife will stay with you while I get the car. Come on, kids.’

Her fascinated audience were obviously reluctant to leave but, as they did so, she heard the eldest one saying with relish, ‘She’ll get loads fatter than that before she has the baby. You should have seen Mum when she was having you…’

She was alone with Guy’s sister. How on earth had this happened? She had come out for a quiet walk, that was all.

‘It’s Guy’s baby, isn’t it?’

‘I thought we’d already established that,’ Campion said curtly.

The other woman frowned and then demanded, ‘Why haven’t you told him?’

Campion stared at her.

‘According to you, he already knows. Guy was right, you said,’ she reminded her.

‘Right?’ Meg looked confused, and then her mouth opened in a round ‘oh’ of enlightenment. ‘No, you misunderstood me. Guy doesn’t know you’re pregnant. He thinks…he thinks you’re involved with someone else. And so did I, until I heard you say you were four months gone.’

‘Someone else?’ Campion struggled to sit up, and then sank back on to the bench, as she realised she was still too weak to support herself properly.

‘How could he think that?’ she began, and then flushed, remembering their brief verbal exchange at the party.

‘Tait’s here with the car. We can talk later. I’m Margaret, by the way, Guy’s sister.’

‘Yes, I know. One of the twins.’

‘Yes.’

Somehow or other, room was made for Campion in the car. She was feeling dizzy again, and it was a relief to lean back and close her eyes.

It wasn’t far back to the house, and with a bit of luck she might be able to make it to her room without either Mrs Timmins or Lucy guessing what had happened.

She opened her eyes. The drive seemed to be taking a long time. Alarm jolted through her as she stared at her unfamiliar surroundings.

She gripped the back of the front passenger seat and Margaret turned round.

‘We’re taking you home with us,’ she said quickly. ‘It seems best…’

Best? For whom? She didn’t want to go home with them.

‘Please, I’d rather…’

Margaret had turned up the radio, and either wasn’t aware or didn’t want to be aware of her protest. This was kidnap, Campion told herself. She could sue them—and then her stomach lurched protestingly as the car hit a dip in the road. Tait, seeing her expression in his driving mirror, increased his speed slightly.

The car turned into the drive of a modern, well built house and stopped.

‘Straight upstairs, I think, Meg,’ Campion heard Tait saying calmly to his wife, as he helped her out of the car.

She caught the look of mingled panic and guilt that crossed the other woman’s face, and her husband’s quick, negative shake of his head, and fear clutched at her.

Her baby—she was going to lose her baby! She must have said it out loud, because Tait told her soothingly, ‘Nothing of the kind! Four-month babies aren’t that easy to lose, and if it’s got the French blood in its veins…’

Nevertheless, he was quick to examine her once she was upstairs and, in her anxiety for her unborn child, Campion was forced to tell him about her specialist’s fears.

‘Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine. I’ll ring your friends and let them know—’

‘That you—I’ve been kidnapped,’ she supplied bitterly.

‘Yes. I’m sorry about that, but you see…’

But Campion wasn’t listening. She had drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the events of the afternoon.

Downstairs, Meg asked her husband anxiously, ‘Is she going to be all right? If anything happens, I’ll never forgive myself.’

‘You shouldn’t have interfered, Meg—but yes, I think she’ll be OK,’ he told her, relenting when he saw her worried face.

‘When I think of how angry I was! You see, I thought she’d just turned her back on Guy, and that the baby…’

‘Guy’s a grown man, Meg. You can’t run his life for him. He wouldn’t thank you for interfering. You know that.’

‘But it’s so obvious that she loves him, and he thinks—he thinks she’s involved with someone else!’

Tait had come to the same conclusion but, unlike his impetuous wife, he did not believe in interfering in the lives of others.

‘I’d better go and ring her friends.’

When she came back, half an hour later, Meg looked pleased and rather bemused.

‘You’ll never guess what happened!’ she told him. ‘I couldn’t believe it myself at first…’

‘It must be far-fetched, then,’ her husband agreed drily.

* * *

‘Yes, very unfortunate indeed.’

Meg was disappointed. She had expected more of a reaction than that. ‘Well, we’re going to have to do something. You must see that.’

‘No, Meg,’ Tait told her firmly, adding, ‘what I do see is that we have a young woman upstairs, who’s four months pregnant, and who is not at all well. Any shocks at this time…’ He saw her face fall, and said gently, ‘I know you mean well, Meg, but have you thought? Guy might not be as thrilled to discover that he’s going to be a father as you seem to think.’

Campion, standing in the passage outside the kitchen door, heard every word. Odd that she should feel such pain when, after all, they did nothing other than confirm everything she had thought herself.

‘You mean, I mustn’t tell him,’ Meg said wistfully.

‘I don’t think it would be very wise, or very fair, do you? If, as you say, he’s already left for the States… He’ll be there for close on two months, and then we’re all flying out to Canada for the wedding.’

‘But he ought to know,’ she protested stubbornly.

‘Meg,’ he took hold of both her hands in his own, ‘have you thought that there’s nothing to stop Guy from getting in touch with Campion if he wishes to do so?’

‘He thinks she’s involved with someone else.’

There was a tiny silence, and Campion felt her heart pound.

‘I know what you’re trying to tell me, Tait,’ she heard Meg saying shakily at last, ‘but you’re wrong, I know you’re wrong. It’s all Sandra’s fault…I’ve never liked her.’

‘I thought she was your best friend,’ Tait responded drily.

‘That was before! Tait, what are we going to do about Campion?’

‘Nothing. There’s nothing we can do,’ he told her firmly. ‘Both she and Guy are adults, Meg. We can’t interfere.’

Very quietly, Campion went back to her room.

So, now she knew. Like her, Guy’s brother-in-law believed that Guy was glad to be free of their relationship, and that he wouldn’t welcome the news that she was carrying his child.