WHEN Judith’s clock showed one in the morning and her phone was still obstinately silent, she gave up trying to read and turned off her bedside light. Kieran wasn’t going to ring now. Maybe Charlie really wasn’t well, and by the time Kieran had finished checking over his nephew and reassuring Tess, he’d probably thought it was too late to ring.
Judith yearned to ring him. Just to hear his voice. But she knew it wouldn’t be fair to divide his loyalties. She’d see him in the morning. They could talk then.
But he didn’t turn up for his shift. So something was definitely wrong. Kieran was on the same duty roster as her, and apart from his very first day he’d always been a good five or ten minutes early.
‘Our revered consultant not in today?’ Judith asked Daisy, hoping her voice sounded a lot more casual than she felt.
‘Dunno. I haven’t heard anything,’ Daisy replied.
Judith didn’t dare probe any more in case it started the hospital rumour mill. Maybe Charlie was sick. Maybe Kieran was sick.
At her break, she decided to take a chance and ring him at home. If Tess answered, Jude could always claim it was to do with work.
The phone rang one, twice, three times. Then the answering-machine recording started playing. It was halfway through when the receiver was picked up. ‘Hello?’
A female voice. Not one she recognised. Judith’s pulse quickened. What was going on? ‘Hello. Could I speak to Kieran Bailey, please?’
‘I’m afraid he’s not here.’
So where was he? Jude decided to stick to her original plan. ‘It’s Judith, from work. He didn’t turn up this morning so I was just checking he was OK—there are some nasty bugs going round.’ There weren’t, but it was the only thing she could think of to say.
‘He’s OK.’ There was a suspicious wobble in the woman’s voice.
A nasty thought hit Jude. ‘Charlie’s not ill, is he?’
‘Not Charlie.’ There was a sound like a muffled sob. ‘It’s Tess. She…’ There was a shuddering breath. ‘My little girl took an overdose last night.’
‘Oh, no.’ Judith’s stomach lurched. So that was why Tess hadn’t answered the phone last night. She’d been sitting alone and miserable and desperate, and she’d taken the final step.
Then it sank in what the woman had said. My little girl. Tess’s mother. Kieran’s mother. Here, to pick up the pieces. If it wasn’t already too late. What had Tess taken? Was she dead? Had Kieran found her in time? Had the overdose left her with irreversible damage to her liver, her kidneys, her heart, her lungs…? ‘Is she—is Tess going to be all right, Mrs Bailey?’ Judith asked shakily.
‘I think so. She’s still in hospital. Kieran’s with her on the ward.’
Kieran. He must be feeling like hell. He’d had a fight with Tess before he’d gone out. No doubt he was blaming himself—for not seeing how low Tess was, for rowing with her, for going out and leaving her on her own.
‘I’m so sorry. Look, if there’s anything I can do…’ Anything. Though what she really wanted was to rush to Kieran’s side. To comfort him, hold him, reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, that his little sister would be OK and everything would work out just fine.
‘Who is it again?’
‘Judith Powell. I’m Kieran’s…’ She stopped herself saying ‘girlfriend’ just in time. ‘Registrar.’
‘I’ll tell him you called.’
‘Is it all right if I go to see Tess and take her some flowers?’ Something pretty and cheerful to brighten up her surroundings.
‘If you want to. She’s on the women’s general ward.’
‘Thank you.’
Judith skipped lunch and went straight to the hospital shop to buy flowers. But when she got to the women’s general ward, the sister informed her that Tess already had the maximum number of visitors—more than that, actually, but they were making allowances for the baby.
Kieran, his mother and Charlie, Judith guessed. And she wasn’t family. Didn’t have any status, really. She was Kieran’s secret girlfriend. Something squeezed at her heart. She shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t her place to intrude.
But how she wanted to be side by side with Kieran, holding his hand. Getting to know Tess, too, letting her know that she had a friend who’d be there for her, who’d listen without judging.
Though it would look strange, coming from someone who was supposed to be merely a colleague. If she insisted on going in, she’d make things worse for Kieran. Step up the pressure. And he already had enough to deal with. She had to put him first—no matter how sad or angry or miserable or frustrated she felt, this wasn’t the time or the place to do anything about it.
‘Could I, um, leave these for Tess?’ she asked, holding the flowers she’d bought.
‘Of course. Who shall I say they’re from?’
‘Judith Powell—I work with her brother. Maybe I can pop back later and see how she is?’
‘Sure.’
Though by the time Judith’s shift was over, she felt drained—and too apprehensive to go back to the general ward. If Kieran had wanted her to be there, he’d have got a message to her somehow—even if it was only an acknowledgement of the flowers.
His silence told her the one thing she didn’t want to face: she didn’t belong.
At eight o’clock that evening, when Kieran still hadn’t phoned her, Judith started really worrying. Was Tess’s condition more serious than the sister had let on? What had Tess taken? Was it something that could mean days before the final effects were known?
And was Kieran all right? If he’d been at Tess’s bedside since the moment he’d found her, he couldn’t have had much sleep, apart from dozing in the visitor’s chair. He probably hadn’t eaten anything either—maybe a sandwich from the canteen’s trolley service, but not enough to keep his strength up. Guilt dragged at her. She should be doing something positive, something to help, not sitting here and feeling sorry for herself. She dialled the hospital’s number and asked to be put through to the ward where Tess was.
‘Hello, Women’s General, Staff Nurse speaking.’
‘Hello. I wondered if you could tell me how Tess Bailey is, please?’
‘Are you a relative?’
There had been enough lies. ‘No,’ Judith said.
‘She’s comfortable.’
Judith had said the same thing too many times to enquirers at Maternity to be happy with the response. ‘Comfortable’ could mean just about anything. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, and hung up.
She had to find out somehow. She could call Kieran, but he was probably at the hospital. She didn’t really want to leave a message on his answering-machine, and his mobile phone would be switched off while he was on the ward. Besides, she didn’t want to put any extra pressure on him. He’d be worried sick about his sister and he didn’t need his girlfriend whining for attention.
That left her with one option.
Waiting. Until he was ready to tell her.
On Friday, Kieran was back at work. Judith restrained herself from rushing in to ask what was going on, but eventually armed herself with a couple of files and rapped on his door. ‘Morning. Got a moment?’
‘Of course.’
His voice was cool, but she didn’t let it faze her. She closed the door behind her and dropped all pretence of her visit being about work. ‘How’s Tess?’
‘She’ll live. No thanks to us.’
She frowned. ‘What?’
‘She tried to kill herself because of us.’
‘Oh, God, no.’ She dropped the files on his desk, moved to stand next to him and slid her arms round his shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He shrugged her away. ‘Just leave it, Jude.’
‘I can’t. What happened?’
‘I think my mother’s already told you,’ he said shortly.
She sighed. ‘OK, so maybe I shouldn’t have called you at home. But I was worried about you when you didn’t turn up at work yesterday.’
‘I left a message that there was a family problem and I’d be in today.’
‘No one told me.’ Though why should they? She was only his registrar.
His eyes were dark and his face was grim. She could imagine the guilt that was eating him up inside. ‘Kieran, it’s not your fault that Tess—’
‘But it’s not—’ she began.
‘Judith, even if you’re not busy, I am.’
At the look of disgust on his face, she recoiled as if he’d slapped her. Surely she was the one person he knew he could always talk to? But he’d made it clear that he didn’t want to talk.
And he also didn’t want her anywhere near him.
She picked up her files and left his office without another word. Outwardly, she was a competent obstetric registrar. Inwardly, she felt as if someone had put her down in the middle of a frozen landscape, a place where everything looked the same as far as the eye could see, and there were no signs to show her the way back home. Lost and alone, with nowhere to go. She’d been so sure that Kieran loved her, just as she loved him. That they could face anything, as long as they were together.
But she’d been wrong. So wrong. It hurt so much that her emotions had gone into deep freeze. Kieran didn’t want comfort—not from her, at any rate. He’d shut himself away behind a wall that was so high and so deep she didn’t even know where to start trying to find a way through it.
And even if she did, there were no guarantees that he’d let her get close.
He was curt with her for the rest of the day, even when they ended up working on an emergency case of a prolapsed cord, where the baby’s umbilical cord was particularly long and part of it had passed through the entrance to the mother’s uterus. If the cord was pressed between the baby’s head and the mother’s body, the blood flow through the cord would be restricted, so the baby wouldn’t get enough oxygen and would become distressed—and might even die.
As soon as Judith realised what was happening, she sent Daisy to fetch Kieran and bleep for an anaesthetist for an emergency section—the baby’s head wasn’t far down enough in Maxine’s pelvis for her to risk doing a forceps delivery. She got Maxine to kneel and put her head down and push her bottom in the air to slow things down, then pushed the baby’s head back up during contractions to make sure there wasn’t any extra pressure on the cord.
The little girl was born safely but Kieran barely acknowledged the way Judith had managed the situation, saving the baby’s life. He simply stalked off and shut himself in his office again.
That night, Judith rang his mobile but it was switched off. It stayed switched off for the whole of the weekend—while he was off duty—and although Judith rushed home after her shifts, the red light on her answering-machine stayed unlit. And every time she checked the number of the last person who’d called her, it was never his.
She dialled Zoe’s number three times on the Saturday, but hung up before the call was connected. It was the weekend. Zoe was barely back from honeymoon. How could Jude be selfish enough to drag her best friend away from her new husband, just to whine about how impossible Kieran was being?
She knew she could call her other best friend—Holly was only next door—but she also knew that Holly was working nights. Weekend nights were always the busiest in the emergency department, so what Holly needed after her shift was sleep, not coffee and trying to hide her yawns as she listened to Jude.
Particularly as she hadn’t told either of them what was really going on.
She’d just have to stop being silly and concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing. Working as a registrar in the maternity department of a busy London hospital. And Kieran would calm down over the weekend and start talking to her…wouldn’t he? Just give it forty-eight hours.
By the time Judith’s two days off began on Monday morning, she realised that Kieran wasn’t going to ring her. So Friday in his office hadn’t been just shock, hadn’t been a reaction that he’d get over. He wasn’t going to call her. Wasn’t going to let her comfort him. Because he associated her with the guilt he felt about what Tess had done, and that guilt was too strong for any other emotion to overcome it.
Guilt that she felt, too. He had a point. If they hadn’t kept their relationship from Tess, she wouldn’t have reacted so badly when she’d found out.
Knowing that Kieran was at work so it would be safe to visit Tess, Judith bought an armful of flowers and headed for London City General.
‘I understand if you don’t want to see me,’ she said quietly when she walked into Tess’s cubicle, ‘but I wanted to apologise in person. And to bring you these—not that they can even begin to make up for anything.’ She handed Tess the bouquet of flowers.
‘Thank you. They’re lovely,’ Tess said, smiling at her.
‘I swear, I never meant to hurt you, Tess. Neither of us did.’
‘Kee’s already told me.’ Tess bit her lip. ‘And I feel so stupid now.’
‘No. You were unhappy. Ill. And we should have seen that instead of being wrapped up in each other.’ Judith handed her a small gold box. ‘These are for you, too. The best pick-me-up I know.’
Tess looked inside. ‘Chocolates?’
‘Better than chocolate,’ Judith promised. ‘It’s gianduja. I should warn you, they, um, disappear rather quickly.’
‘You came to see me on your day off?’
Judith nodded. ‘It’s the least I can do, considering it’s my fault you’re in here.’
‘You didn’t exactly pour the vodka into the glass for me. Or hand me the paracetamol,’ Tess said wryly.
‘But I didn’t ring you when I said I would to invite you to join me, Zoe and Holly for a pizza.’
Tess shrugged. ‘It’s OK. I thought you were just being polite.’
‘No. I did mean it. I just…’ She’d just spent all her time thinking about Tess’s brother. Selfish in the extreme. Judith bit her lip. ‘How’s Charlie?’
‘Being spoiled rotten by my mum.’
‘Sorry, I should have thought to bring him something, too.’
Tess shook her head. ‘No need. But thanks anyway.’
‘I’ll, um, let you get some rest. Maybe I can come and see you again?’
‘I’d like that,’ Tess said.
Though Judith had a feeling that Kieran most definitely wouldn’t.
He didn’t ring her during her two days off. And on Wednesday, when she started the late shift, he was very cool towards her.
By the mid-afternoon break, she’d had enough. She banged on his office door and, without waiting for him to invite her in, marched in, closed the door behind her and leaned on it.
‘What?’ he asked, looking up and scowling.
‘You know what, Kieran. You’re freezing me out.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘You’re barely even civil to me on the ward. If you don’t want people talking about you, you’re going the wrong way about it.’
‘Right now, I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks.’
Including me? Judith asked silently. ‘I saw Tess on Monday.’
‘I know.’
She sighed. ‘Kieran, I know you’re worried about your sister and I’m trying to be patient, really I am, but you’re driving me crazy. I hate it that you’re shutting me out. Talk to me. I’m here for you and I’m not going to spread gossip. You know that.’
He said nothing.
If she’d had anything to throw at him, she would have lobbed it straight at his head—out of sheer frustration. Why did he have to be so stubborn and convinced that he could go it alone? ‘What about us?’ she asked.
His face was impassive and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His tone didn’t give much away either when he said quietly, ‘There is no us. Not any more.’
‘What?’ She could hardly take in what she’d just heard. Kieran was dumping her? But…he’d said he loved her. He’d said words to her that she knew he’d never said to anyone else. He loved her. She loved him. They both knew it. It was right between them. So why was he ending it?
Her head was spinning. Maybe she was in some weird parallel world. Maybe this was the most realistic nightmare she’d ever had—maybe she’d wake up and she’d be at home and the duvet would be on the floor and she’d be so relieved that her muscles wouldn’t work enough to let her pull the covers back over her.
But if it was a nightmare, why had his voice been so clear?
‘Why?’ she whispered.
His mouth thinned. ‘You know why. My sister tried to kill herself because of us.’
‘No. Tess tried to kill herself because she’d hit rock bottom.’
‘And I didn’t see how bad it was—because I wasn’t paying attention.’
Because he’d been thinking about her. It was written all over his face.
So it was her fault? He was blaming her? No. That wasn’t fair. What had happened to Tess was awful, but it was nobody’s fault. ‘You’re using Tess as an excuse. The real reason you don’t want to be with me is because you’re too screwed up to trust anyone or be in a relationship with anybody.’
Bile rose in her stomach as she realised she’d been right about him from the start. She’d picked another bad guy. If Kieran really loved her, he wouldn’t end it. He wouldn’t let her go. He’d let her comfort him.
But he didn’t make a single move to stop her when she walked away. He didn’t ring her later that night. And Judith realised at three o’clock next morning that Kieran wasn’t ever going to call. He simply didn’t care that her heart was breaking.
Work was awful for the next couple of weeks. Going in to the ward and pretending that she was her usual cheery self, when inside she wanted to howl, was the hardest thing Judith had ever done. But she loved it at London City General and she had no intention of moving hospitals just because she’d split up with Kieran. Besides, nobody at work had any idea of their relationship, so it wasn’t as if she was going to have to face all the misplaced sympathy. She’d get through it all just fine. And eventually she’d be able to walk into the ward without all her senses going onto red alert. She wouldn’t keep missing him. Keep wanting him.
What she didn’t bargain for were her best friends. One evening when she answered the door, Zoe and Holly virtually frogmarched her into her kitchen.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Aren’t you two supposed to be at Giovanni’s?’
‘With you,’ Holly said. ‘Except you called off. For the second time in a row. And you haven’t been seen anywhere near the local take-aways. I don’t believe you’ve suddenly decided that you like cooking, so clearly you’re not eating properly.’
‘And if you won’t come to Giovanni’s, Giovanni’s will come to you,’ Zoe informed her, waving two carrier bags at her.
Judith frowned. ‘Giovanni’s doesn’t do take-aways.’
‘They do when Holls puts her scary face on,’ Zoe said with a grin.
Virtually before Judith had time to blink, Holly had laid the table, Zoe had put the pizza, garlic bread and salad on plates, and the pair of them had shoved her into a chair and put a glass of wine in her hand.
‘Eat now, talk later,’ Zoe said.
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Judith lied.
‘We’ve known you too long for you to get away with that,’ Holly warned. ‘You’ve been too quiet when we’ve met you for lunch, too. So you’re going to tell us everything, after you’ve had some of Giovanni’s best.’
Judith sighed. ‘I give in.’
When Judith had cleared her plate and finished a portion of Giovanni’s special cheesecake, with ice cream on the side, Zoe put a jug of coffee before them, together with the remains of a box of gianduja from Jude’s fridge.
‘So. Talk,’ Zoe said.
‘There’s nothing wrong.’
‘Jude, I live next to you,’ Holly said.
Judith frowned. ‘And?’
‘And you’ve spent the last couple of weeks doing nothing but playing the piano.’
She winced. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise I was being so noisy. Oh, God. I didn’t wake you when you were on nights, did I?’
‘Don’t be silly. You’re not being a noisy neighbour and your music’s fabulous. But the stuff you’ve been playing is the stuff of heartbreak,’ Holly said.
‘It’s Kieran, isn’t it?’ Zoe asked.
Judith lifted her chin. She hadn’t even told her best friends about him. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘The fact that your face lit up every time he walked into the room,’ Zoe said. ‘The fact that you were singing to him—and don’t deny it. Brad said he noticed it too.’
Judith groaned. ‘Oh, hell. Is everybody talking about it?’
‘No. We just know you better than everyone else,’ Holly said. ‘Plus, when someone tries to look inconspicuous when they’re leaving your neighbour’s house at a strange time of night…’
Judith put her head in her hands. ‘Oh, no. I didn’t even think about that. You should have gone into law, Holls. You’d scare any criminal into confessing everything.’
‘We’re only nagging because we love you,’ Zoe said, gently pulling Judith’s hands away from her face. ‘What went wrong?’
Judith told them about Tess. About how Kieran had given up on their relationship at its first serious test.
‘And you’re still in love with him?’ Holly asked.
‘But he doesn’t love me.’ Judith shrugged. ‘I’m a big girl. I’ll get over it. Pass me some gianduja.’
‘Jude, maybe you ought to give it another go. Talk to him,’ Zoe counselled.
‘I’ve already tried that. He’s not interested. And I’m not going to make him despise me by being pathetic and whining and refusing to admit that it’s over.’ Judith unwrapped another piece of gianduja. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Though her words had a hollow ring to them.
Judith threw all her energies into work. And when Margot asked her to have a chat with one of the new mums, who was complaining of tenderness in her left leg, Judith didn’t even need to look anything up in her handbook.
‘Hi, Kerry. How’s little Ned?’
‘He’s doing fine, thanks,’ Kerry said with a smile.
‘Gorgeous boy. You’re going to be a heartbreaker,’ Judith said, stroking the baby’s cheek. ‘Kerry, Margot says your leg feels a bit funny. Can I take a look?’
‘Sure.’ Kerry shifted so that Judith could examine her left leg. ‘I feel a bit silly, making a fuss.’
‘Not at all.’ Kerry’s leg felt slightly hot to the touch and looked slightly puffy. ‘Does it hurt here?’ Judith asked.
‘It’s a bit tender. Nothing like giving birth, of course.’
‘But you still shouldn’t have to put up with it. Kerry, I’m going to send you for an ultrasound scan just to check your leg out—it’s possible that there’s a blood clot there.’
‘You mean, like some people get when they’ve been on a plane?’
Judith nodded. ‘We know about it so it shouldn’t be a problem.’ Kerry was at a higher risk of VTE, as she was thirty-seven, overweight and hadn’t been on her feet much since the birth. ‘I’m going to give you some heparin just to help thin your blood a little bit—what we call anticoagulant therapy—and if the scan confirms it, I’ll be able to do something more.’
Venous thromboembolism or VTE—a blood clot in a vein—could occur at any stage of pregnancy, but the highest risk was in the couple of days after the birth. If Judith left the suspected VTE without doing anything about it, the clot could go into the lungs. If it did this and became a pulmonary embolism, it could cause breathing problems, collapse and even death.
‘Before I start you on the heparin, I’m going to do some blood tests so I know what’s going on.’ She took a sample. ‘Margot, can you get this off to the lab for Us and Es, full blood count, coag screen, thrombophilia screen and LFTs?’ Testing the urea, electrolytes and liver function would show if there were any problems with Kerry’s lungs or liver, when it would be dangerous to give her anticoagulants.
‘What happens if the scan shows a clot?’
‘We’ll give you heparin for a few weeks and it should disperse the clot,’ Judith explained. ‘We’ll check you at the end of the course to see how things are going and if you need to continue with the treatment. It’s also a good idea for you to wear an elastic compression stocking on your left leg—I’m afraid that’ll be for quite a lot longer, maybe as long as two years.’
‘Two years?’
‘Wear trousers all the time,’ Judith advised with a smile. ‘Better to commit a few fashion sins than take risks with your health.’
Kerry nodded.
‘I’ll be back to see you when you’ve had your scan and your blood test results are back,’ Judith promised.
Her diagnosis turned out to be spot on, so she arranged a loading dose of heparin and a continuous IV infusion, with daily blood tests and the lab results to come straight to her.
That was one thing Kieran had done for her, she thought as she changed at the end of her shift. Nowadays she didn’t panic—she just got on with her job. He’d given her self-confidence. Professionally.
Personally, it was another matter. Without even realising it, she began singing, ‘I’ll never fall in love again’.
‘You OK, Jude?’ Louise asked, coming in.
‘I’m fine, Lulu.’
‘Bit of a mournful song, isn’t it?’
Judith shrugged. ‘I’m just practising a new set for the fundraisers. Heartbreakers always bring in more donations.’
‘Now you’re talking. We could do with another colour Doppler,’ Louise said with a smile.
In the corridor outside, Kieran turned away as soon as Judith stopped singing. She could have been singing for him—because he was never going to fall in love again. Judith was his one and only. But after what had happened, it just wasn’t possible for them to be together. He’d only end up hurting her—just like he’d hurt Tess—because he was so damned selfish. Just like his father.
So he was never, ever going to fall in love again.