The wait to speak with Heath was endless, and she couldn’t go to Willow because, as well as working on her, they were working intensely on the tiny infant in the next cot. Ben thought his job was agony at times, but when the other baby’s parents arrived, pale and shocked and visibly terrified, he wouldn’t have been Heath or the charge nurse for a million dollars. Unlike Celeste, they got to hold their baby straight away.
Because it was already too late.
* * *
‘We’re concerned about Celeste,’ Heath said.
Ben had sat with Celeste until Heath had taken them through Willow’s X-rays and blood results and asked all the questions that Celeste was just too overwhelmed to ask, but would surely regret not asking later. Until finally she was taken in to sit with Willow.
‘I’m not Willow’s father,’ Ben interrupted.
‘Her partner?’
‘No.’ Ben shook his head.
‘I’m sorry.’ Heath frowned. ‘Only Bron said that you’d been in a few times at night to see Willow.’
For the first time in his adult life Ben was coming close to blushing—he felt as if he’d been caught out doing something wrong. Oh, he’d only been up a handful of times—and never when Celeste was around. He’d just wanted to see for himself how the baby was doing.
Clearly, it had been noted!
‘I’m a doctor here.’ Ben cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘And as I said, Celeste’s a friend. I pop in occasionally to check on the baby. I delivered her...’
‘I see.’ But obviously he didn’t.
‘You said you were concerned about her?’ Ben pursued.
‘Look, I thought you were her partner. I’m sorry, my mistake—it’s been a long night,’ Heath said.
Ben realised that if he wanted to, he could just walk away now—ignore the slight indiscretion, say goodnight to Celeste and just fall into bed for what remained of the night. But he didn’t want to.
‘We’re very good friends,’ Ben said. ‘If I can help in any way...’
‘She just needs a break. It’s exceptionally unfortunate that Willow got sick on the one night we’d persuaded her to go home. And with the baby dying in the next cot she’s hyper-vigilant now,’ Heath explained. ‘It’s common with mothers in her situation, but sadly tonight has done nothing to help with that.’
‘What can I do?’ Ben asked.
‘It’s not simply an overnight thing,’ Heath said, standing up and shaking Ben’s hand before heading back out to the unit. ‘She needs regular support, needs to be encouraged to take a break every now and then—once Willow’s better, of course.’
Which meant getting further involved with mother and child—which Ben definitely didn’t want to do. So instead he offered her more practicality as he said goodnight to Celeste. ‘Give me your keys. I’ll sort out the car for you.’
‘I’ll sort it out myself tomorrow,’ she said.
‘Celeste.’ He wasn’t arguing or debating the point. ‘You need your car to work, for Willow’s sake. So give me your keys, and if it’s the battery I’ll charge it or get a new one, and if it’s something else...’ He saw her eyes close in utter despair, as the water rose ever higher. He wanted to pull her out, to wrench her from the rising tide, except he was so very scared to.
Scared to love her.
Except somehow he already did.
Only the problem wasn’t Celeste.
It was Willow.
CHAPTER NINE
HE WAS UP at six, on a rare day off. He had boxes to unpack and a kitchen to paint, but instead he wandered down the road, Celeste’s car keys in hand. He’d have a look at the car, have a run on the beach and then he’d sort out the boxes. Ben opened the garage and after turning the key in the ignition the car grumbled into noisy life—so it wasn’t the battery.
At eight he called the mobile mechanic.
‘Do you want my advice?’ The mechanic stared at what could loosely be called an engine and frowned heavily.
‘No.’ Ben gave a grimace. ‘Just fix it, get it roadworthy, please.’
‘The tyres are bald...’
‘Get decent second-hand ones,’ Ben said, because against that pile of scrap, four gleaming new ones would stand out far too much.
It took the whole day, but by six he was dropping her keys back at the hospital for her.
‘How’s Willow doing?’ he asked her.
‘A bit better, thanks.’ Celeste looked completely wiped out. Her hair needed washing and there were huge charcoal smudges beneath her eyes, as if she’d been wearing black eyeliner and rubbed them, except she hadn’t worn make-up for weeks. ‘The first of her blood cultures should be back soon, but she hasn’t had a temperature since lunchtime.’
‘What about her blood gases?’ he queried.
‘They’re better.’ She shook her head in confusion. She wasn’t thinking as a nurse but as a mum, listening to the doctors and the special care staff. ‘She’s to stay on oxygen...’
He wanted more information, wanted to speak with the neonatologist, to see the baby’s X-rays and blood results for himself.
‘I got to hold her,’ she told him tremulously.
His demands had no place here, so instead he smiled. ‘That’s good news.’
‘Mum’s in with her now.’
All he could do was take her to the canteen and buy her a hot chocolate and some cereal from the machine, and only when he handed her the car keys did Celeste remember what he was doing here. He wasn’t actually here to find out about Willow at all.
‘What was wrong with it?’ she wanted to know.
‘It needed a new battery.’ And a starter motor and brake discs and pads and muffler and... But he chose not to elaborate any further.
‘How much was it? There’s a cash machine here,’ she said.
‘It wasn’t much. We’ll sort it out when Willow’s better,’ Ben said easily.With a baby that sick, Celeste needed a car that started first time every time, Ben told himself. And he was saving his sanity too, he decided. At least he wouldn’t be getting woken up at two a.m. any more...
Except he actually hadn’t minded.
If the truth be known, he would have hated to have found out from someone else the next day what had happened.
He’d hardly slept in twenty-four hours but, despite that fact, his mind suddenly seemed clear.
Celeste needed a friend—a real one—and maybe he could be that for while, maybe he could be there for her, at least till Willow came home.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Ben said. ‘Once Willow’s better, how about a day out?’
‘Where?’ she asked.
‘On the water,’ Ben suggested, but she immediately shook her head.
‘What if something happened? It would take too long to get here,’ she protested anxiously.
‘We’re not crossing the equator, just taking a ride out on the bay! We could have lunch.’
‘I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.’ She shook her head.
‘Don’t say no,’ Ben said. ‘Just think about it.’
* * *
She didn’t think about it.
There was way too much else to think about.
As Willow got over what had turned out to be a nasty bout of pneumonia and started to regularly put on weight, discharge day started looming. Celeste’s milk supply had finally completely dried up and, regretfully for Celeste, Willow was now taking a bottle, but at least it did give her a little bit more freedom and meant she could get back to the flat every now and then—or even visit the doctor for herself!
‘Celeste?’
Ben passed her as he was walking through the main entrance corridor. Amidst a hub of people and cafés and a gift shop, there was Celeste, as white as a sheet, and in her own vague world.
‘Celeste...’ He tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. ‘Is everything okay?’
She visibly made an effort to concentrate. ‘Fine,’ she finally answered.
‘Willow?’
‘She’s good,’ Celeste said without the usual elaboration of the past few weeks. Normally she gushed over every milestone, and Ben saw her lick dry lips.
‘You?’
‘I’m bit queasy,’ she admitted. ‘I was going to get a drink but there’s a huge queue.’
‘Go and sit down, I’ll get you one.’ That she didn’t argue told Ben she really wasn’t feeling well.
Of course there was a queue at the café, but he could be arrogant enough at times and he ignored it, going straight to the front and getting two bottles of water and a bottle of juice—oh, and a muffin.
‘Here.’ He put his wares on the table and Celeste took a long drink of water.