Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal Page 9

  ‘I’ll grab Dr Henry when he’s finished. Oh, wait…he’s just there.’ They waited until the doctor sauntered over.

  Isabel took it from there. ‘I’m a bit worried about her, blood pressure’s skyrocketing—I think she’s pre-eclampsic; swollen feet… I need a urine sample but I don’t know how to ask. Kid’s sick and she’s scared for him—it’s not helping. And I have no idea where she’s from. What do you do about language barriers?’

  The doctor shrugged. ‘It happens all the time, we have a good network of translators. I’ll call one in.’ He turned to the mum. ‘Romania?’

  ‘Oui.’

  ‘She’s from Romania? Wow. That’s a long way from home. Who’s looking after you? Where do you live? Will she have to pay for her medical treatment? Because I don’t think she’ll be able to. I’m sorry, I have too many questions and none of them in French or Romanian. Pretty useless, really. I don’t even know her name.’

  Dr Henry gave her a big smile, because, really, who wouldn’t? ‘That’s okay, Dr Delamere, you care, it is enough. We have about twelve thousand homeless people in Paris and many of them are immigrants. But we also have good medical facilities to look after them, if we can reach them. Many are illegal aliens and don’t want to be caught, so they get lost. Or worse. She may have friends around outside—they often meet people from their home country and hang out with them. Or she may have no one. I didn’t see her come in with anyone. You?’

  Isabel shook her head. ‘No. She was on her own, and, in this state, that’s a very scary place to be.’

  Sean looked over at the kid and thought about Isabel all those years ago, on her own, dealing with the worst thing possible. That would be how this mum felt right now—even worse, she didn’t understand what was happening and couldn’t communicate. But she’d quietened down since Isabel had befriended her, so he wasn’t going anywhere. ‘So we’ll stay with them until we get her and the boy into a stable state.’

  ‘Are you sure? You don’t mind?’ Isabel was still holding the woman’s hand, which she stroked as mum gave a small sheepish smile. ‘We’ll stay with you. It’s okay. It’s okay.’ Then she turned to Sean. ‘Thank you. I know you had things planned.’

  Nah. Other than give her the best doctor award? The boat cruise would have to wait. ‘I’m not going anywhere apart from to check on Teo. I’ll be right here with you.’ His heart swelled just watching her compassion. So much for guarding his heart; where Isabel was concerned it seemed she was determined to blast it wide open.

  *

  Two hours later as they stepped out of the maternal and paediatric hospital onto the Rue de Sèvres, Isabel inhaled deeply and tried to stop the hurt in her heart. ‘Wow, that was an eye-opener. But thank you for staying. I don’t know how I’d have felt if we’d just left them all alone. By the sounds of it Marina lost contact with her friends when she got evicted.’ Thank God for Sean, too, because his quick thinking had stopped that boy deteriorating. ‘I’m going to go back to the hospital tomorrow to see how they’re doing.’

  ‘You know, you don’t have to. They’re quite safe now. In good hands, as we always roll out to our patients. And they are, so cheer up.’ He slipped his hand into hers, and she still didn’t know how to deal with this rapid turn of events. She was holding Sean Anderson’s hand, discussing patients, looking forward to spending a date…in Paris. She felt a surge in her heart that quickly evaporated. They’d done good, but she felt… She couldn’t put her finger on it. He must have sensed it because suddenly he asked, ‘You okay?’

  ‘No. No, I’m not okay. I mean, I should be, I know this stuff happens. But it’s still distressing to see. That poor woman, what kind of a future does she have? She lives on the streets of a city where she doesn’t even know the language. She’s going to be the mother of two kids under four. She has no easy access to medical care… Aaargh, it’s so unfair.’

  His warm hand squeezed hers. ‘You can’t make everyone better.’

  ‘I know. But I can help this one. I can make one difference today and that’s enough for me. But it still makes me so cross.’ Not least because there were so many little lives out there that needed saving.

  He bent and pressed his lips to hers, pulling up her collar around her ears to protect her from the icy wind. ‘There she is. That’s my girl. She’s back.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He ran a thumb down her cheek, making her shudder with warm fuzzies. Didn’t seem to matter what scenario they were in, he made her shiver with desire. No, more than that. She liked watching him work, liked his cool calmness and the way he put others first. Not many did that in the precious little downtime they had. Not many offered to spend a few hours in a soup kitchen instead of sitting in a plush hotel eating dainty finger food from silver platters. ‘There’s the old Izzy…the spunky girl who wants to save the world. She’s here. Don’t tell me that you’ve changed, that all your dreams are different, because they’re not.’

  Isabel didn’t want to admit anything, because right now she didn’t know what she wanted—from him. From this. From anything. ‘She was on her own and frightened. I’ve been there and I don’t recommend it. One thing I promised myself back then was that if I ever saw someone else going through a hard time I’d try to help.’ She looked up and down the busy street. ‘Er…where are we?’

  He shrugged. ‘Damned if I know. I was thinking we could go to the Louvre, but I fancy some fresh air after that little adventure. You? Fancy a walk down by the river? We can grab a taxi—look, there’s one.’ He stuck his hand out, told the driver where to head to then bundled her inside the warm car. The journey through the Parisian streets was halted a little by congestion. Snow had started to fall and the roads became chaotic.

  ‘Look! It’s snowing. My goodness, just look.’

  ‘Isabel Delamere, you’ve seen snow before.’

  ‘I know, plenty of times. But it’s just so perfect to be snowing while we’re here. It makes everything seem like a fairy tale.’ But then she thought about Teo and his flimsy cotton shirt and sandals and decided that whatever else she did in Paris she’d find him something decent to wear. A Christmas present. Because he wasn’t exactly living any kind of fairy tale at all.

  She looked out of the window and dragged a huge breath in. There was one thing she’d never confessed to anyone, one reason why she’d always hated and loved Christmas at the same time. Why she wanted to keep busy, why she’d offered to work, why she always tried to surround herself with people at this festive time and not dwell on what-might-have-beens and what-ifs.

  She brushed a threatening tear away from the corner of her eye and hoped Sean hadn’t noticed. She was getting too soft in her old age. Maybe it was seeing the little that Teo had and the fight in his mother. Or maybe it was being with Sean and feeling all these new emotions rattle through her that made her a little off balance.

  They were let out by Notre Dame cathedral. Isabel looked up at the grand façade of the famous building. ‘Amazing. I always wanted to come here. I’ve seen so many pictures of it, brochures in the hotel, I feel like I’m looking at something so familiar, it’s almost like I’ve been here before. Look—’ She pointed up at the huge rose window and the majestic arches. ‘It’s breathtaking.’

  ‘Do you want to go inside?’

  ‘No. Well…’ There was a small part of her that wanted, for some reason, to make a special commemoration of their newfound friendship. And of the child they’d both lost. Perhaps a candle? But she didn’t want to add something so solemn to the day. Didn’t want to dwell on how she felt about Sean, given that things were so uncertain between them. Another day, maybe, when they were on a more even footing. She gave him a bright smile. ‘No, let’s walk. I want to tramp along the riverside in the snow, and, if you’re not careful, hit you in the face with a snowball.’

  ‘I’d like to see you try.’

  She reached out and caught the falling snow in her hand, watched the snow melt on contact. ‘It’
s not snowball kind of snow.’

  ‘Never mind—I’m sure we can find something else for you to play with.’ Then he picked her up and twirled her round, pressing cold lips against hers. ‘You want to go straight back to the hotel? I know a good way we can get warm…’

  Oh, it was tempting. ‘Yes…but I’d like to spend some time out here. It’s like a wonderland. Look at that cathedral, all lit up. It’s amazing.’

  ‘In that case…’ He put his hand into one of her deep coat pockets. Didn’t find what he was looking for. So shoved his hand into the other one.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Gloves.’ He pulled out her woolly gloves and shrugged them onto her hands. ‘Now you’re appropriately dressed, which, I might add, is a shame. I liked you a lot better with your dress round your waist.’ He gave her a wink that started an ache down low in her belly and spread to a tingle across her breasts. ‘But I wouldn’t encourage that here—you’ll get frostbite. Later…definitely.’

  ‘Is that a promise?’ Suddenly she found herself looking forward to later.

  As they trudged across the square in snow that had started to stick the street lights flickered into life. Looking up, Isabel watched the swirl of the flakes as they danced around her. Sean wrapped an arm round her shoulder and she hugged into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. They walked in silence for a few minutes, crossed through the souvenir stalls, round the side of the cathedral to a garden. ‘If you want we can walk through the Latin Quarter…the Left Bank. We can cross over there.’ Sean pointed to the left, past a large fountain and through the gardens. ‘Or over there.’ To the right.

  ‘It’s prettier through the gardens.’ And it was; snow tickled the tree branches, coating each leaf like ice frosting.

  As they walked Sean began to talk, his voice surprisingly serious. ‘Isabel, is it hard for you to do your job after what you went through?’

  ‘It’s hard when I see a young frightened kid having a baby, hard when I see a difficult birth, but it’s made me more resolved to help, to strive for a happier outcome.’ It was actually quite a relief that they were side by side as they talked, so he couldn’t see the pain she knew was in her face. Couldn’t see the need for him to hold her. And yes, it hurts like hell when things don’t work. She still shed a tear for the young mums; she felt the righteous anger when a baby didn’t make it. She still felt the kind of pain that Marina had voiced earlier. Would it be different if she’d never been pregnant, never had that chance? She didn’t know. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I’ll be honest with you—I had a different feeling in there with Teo and Marina. Watching her trying to feed him and failing gave me a gut ache like I’ve never had before. I felt her pain. Viscerally. I needed him to eat. I was willing the kid on. Sure, I’m driven to help them all, but this was different.’

  ‘Empathy? You’ve always had empathy, Sean.’

  ‘It was more than that. This was like a weird force in me.’ He turned to her. ‘You know I’d have done anything to help you, don’t you? I’d have fought for that baby with everything I had.’

  ‘I know.’

  He was speaking so quietly now she had to strain to hear him. ‘I wish I’d been there.’

  ‘I know. Me too.’ Her heart twisted. She tiptoed up and kissed him, hoping that whatever he felt could somehow be kissed away. She doubted it, but he pressed his lips to hers and held her close, his eyes closed, reverent. And he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her as if she were a lifeline. An intense kiss that shook her to her soul, had her falling, tumbling into warmth. And even when there was no breath left they stood and held each other, listened to the distant traffic, to people laughing. People living their lives. People sharing, kissing, loving—taking a chance. When she eventually stepped away she felt as if a small part of her heart had been pieced back together again.

  And shaken a little by the ferocity of it all.

  It comforted her to have him close, but it scared her too. It was happening so quickly—they’d fallen so fast. She could lose herself in him, she thought, in us. She could let herself go. But what would that be like, in the end? Would it last? Or would she have to piece herself back together all over again?

  That was something she couldn’t contemplate. But, for now, he was here and she wanted him to know how she felt. ‘I’m sorry, Sean, for the way I treated you. You’re a decent, smart and sexy guy. I did bad by you, I should have been honest instead of selfishly hiding myself away.’

  ‘You did what you had to do to cope. I understand.’ They walked a little further through the tree-lined park leaving footprints in the snow, large and small behind them. Then, ‘His name?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Her heart thumped.

  Sean looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, I have to know. What was his name? Did you ever think about giving him one?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And did you give it to him? Did you tell him what his name was? Did he hear it?’

  ‘Yes. I told him his name. I told him I loved him. I told him I was sorry.’ I cried it out to the skies and whispered it to the silence. ‘But then they took him away…and…I never got to hold him again.’

  His lips a thin line, Sean dragged her to him. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It was a long time ago.’ Her throat was thick with hurt, words were hard to find, even more difficult to speak. And her chest felt blown wide open.

  Wrapped in his arms, she stood for a moment looking up at Sean, at his earnest face. The smooth line of strong jaw, the turmoil in his eyes. She hadn’t wanted to put it there. Her gaze was drawn skywards to the fading light and the dance of snowflakes as they fluttered around them shrouding the cathedral in a magical white blanket.

  The sound of bells ringing made her jump. She pulled away from him and started to walk again. As the light began to fade Isabel thought it was possibly the most beautiful place she’d ever visited. So serene through the gardens, the crisp crunch of snow the only real sound around them. Most of the tourists and hawkers had headed away, but a few stragglers remained. As they approached the stone bridge a man peeked out from behind a stall laden with postcards, mini Notre Dame cathedrals and paraphernalia.

  ‘Pour vous? Une serrure? A lock? You buy?’ His croaky voice made little sense.

  ‘Keep walking. I don’t know what he’s talking about.’ Isabel kept hold of Sean’s arm as they stepped onto the bridge. The last dying rays of sun bathing the cathedral in an eerie light. ‘Oh, my goodness. Look at that… What are they…? Are they locks?’ Thousands and thousands of locks of all shapes and sizes covered the metal railings all along the bridge. She peered closer. ‘They all have names on.’

  ‘They’re love locks, Izzy. Surely you’ve heard of them? People bring them here, write their names on the locks, attach them to the railings and toss the key into the Seine. Apparently if the key can’t be found, the love can never be broken…or something like that.’

  ‘“A 4 M…” “Marry Me…” “Love You Always…” “Ever Mine…” Oh, so sweet. But so many. There must be thousands.’

  ‘And more. Look, there’s another one just going on.’ Sean pointed to the far end of the bridge where a bride and groom were having their wedding photographs taken, the sunset-captured cathedral in the background. The groom kissed something in his hand and then pressed it against his wife’s lips and together they threw it into the gurgling water below.

  ‘Wait here.’ Sean left her side. She watched him jog back to the stallholder, who had almost finished packing up. From inside one of his bags he passed Sean something. Isabel’s heart began thumping. Surely not. Surely Sean wasn’t going to do something…something like… Looking over towards the bride and groom, she held her breath.

  What the hell was he doing?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IF HE LET them go, Sean reasoned as he walked back to Isabel, if he pretended these keys held the past and hurled all the lies and the hist
ory and the hurt into the river, then that would be the end of it, right? He would let it all sink to the silted bottom, drowned in everyone’s shared promises of everlasting love. Surely some of that would rub off onto him? Surely he’d be able to let her in? Surely he’d be able to stop thinking about it. Draw a line.

  Maybe it was that easy. Maybe having her was as easy as that.

  ‘Here.’ He handed her a marker pen the guy had sold him for way more than it was worth. But how much was the price of casting off these emotions and facing her renewed? ‘I want you to write our son’s name on this lock.’

  ‘What?’ Her eyes widened, although there was some relief there too—he couldn’t fathom why. ‘Okay, I just thought…oh, never mind.’

  ‘Write his name.’

  Her hands were trembling as she tried to take the top off the pen. He took it from her, pulled it off with his teeth and handed it back. She wrote wobbly letters across the bronze lock.

  Joshua.

  ‘I hope you like it.’ She was heaving great breaths while her whole body, his beautiful brave Isabel, shook.

  ‘Yeah. Yes, I do. It’s solid. Strong. It’s a good name for a fine boy.’ He’d had a son, and he’d been called Joshua. Sean’s chest felt as if it were being squeezed in a vice. Above and to the left of the boy’s name he wrote his own, to the right he wrote Isabel.

  Damn it, if his own hand wasn’t shaking too. Maybe it was the freezing weather.

  ‘He was due at Christmas, right?’ He’d done the maths. They’d only had sex a couple of times so by his reckoning their baby had probably been due around December.

  ‘Yes.’ She looked away, her eyes glittering. She gripped the top of the railings, for a moment he thought she might faint or tumble or scream, but she held her ground, staring into the distance along the river. Snow fell onto her shoulders, into her hair like tiny pearls. When she turned back her eyes were dry. ‘He would have been a Christmas baby. He would have been seventeen this year. All games consoles and mobile phones. Maybe a girlfriend. Definitely smart and handsome.’