HER MIRACLE TWINS (8 page)

‘Well, I’m sure we’ve given Sebastian something to think about today.’

She smiled as she remembered the learned obstetrician’s face as he’d tried to conduct a rational discussion with them.

She turned to look at Michel. ‘Sebastian is a family man. He couldn’t see why we were being so clinical about the process of conception. To him the best way to get pregnant is the natural way. He has to help too many couples who can’t conceive naturally. He can’t think why we’re not totally delighted.’

Michel was staring at her now, thinking that if only they could both get rid of the emotional baggage from their past lives their relationship would be so much easier.

‘Let’s go back to the hotel,’ he said gently, holding out his hand towards her. ‘We need to talk.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HEY
WALKED
SLOWLY
back along the leafy path that gave them shade from the hot sun before turning into the road leading in the direction of the hotel. There was no need for conversation. Both of them were lost in their own thoughts. Michel was holding her hand firmly as if he was afraid she might fall on the rough causeway. It was a new experience for him to have an unborn child in his care that wasn’t a patient of his. A baby that he’d created, with the help of this beautiful woman beside him.

It had been an out of this world experience that he was trying hard to forget now. He knew the original plan was the best course of action. He must keep reminding himself that fatherhood was all he wanted.

Chantal was also thinking about the wonder of being pregnant again. She’d known the joy of carrying her first unborn child but that had lasted only three months. She was remembering how she’d had a completely different outlook on life, a feeling of responsibility to another human being. That was coming back to her now. Especially since Sebastian had confirmed her pregnancy. Michel had been over the moon when she’d emerged from the examination room.

He tightened his grip on her hand as they began to cross the road. She turned her head and smiled up at him.

‘I know what you’re going through,’ she said gently as they crossed to the other side.

‘Do you? I doubt it.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I’ve just learned that I’m going to be a father and the responsibility is overwhelming.’

‘That’s what I mean. I felt exactly the same with my first pregnancy. But that was short-lived and a totally different situation from this. I thought I had a partner who would stand by me. I was wrong. But there are definitely two of us committed to being good parents to our child this time, right?’

He fell silent again as the possibility of losing Chantal in childbirth taunted him. That was rare in countries where medical care was advanced, but it should never be discounted. He realised his strong feelings for Chantal were intensifying the more he was with her. That was only natural when she was going to be the mother of his baby.

She stood still at the top of one of the side roads. ‘I’d like to take a slight detour to show you my apartment.’

‘That would be interesting. Is it let to someone else at the moment?

They were already walking down the Rue de l’Assomption. ‘No. My mother bought two apartments next to each other when I passed my final medical exams and I became financially independent for the first time in my life.’

‘It looks as if it’s a pricey sort of area around here.’

‘It is, but we were very lucky. My mother had been paying rent for several years on one of the apartments. She scrimped and saved to pay the rent, telling me that it was important she bring up her daughter in a good neighbourhood. She became head of department in the prestigious
lycée
where she was teaching and the salary increase helped enormously. I was also a pupil there so it was a perfect arrangement for a mother bringing up her daughter by herself.’

‘Your mother sounds like a remarkable woman.’

‘Oh, she is! That’s why I knew I could do the same if I had a child by myself.’

His grip on her hand tightened. ‘But you won’t be by yourself. I’ll be there as part of the parenting partnership. Always remember we’re in this together, Chantal.’

‘Yes, of course we are.’

As she stood in front of the tall, prestigious building where she lived, she felt a moment of panic at the enormity of agreeing to have a baby with someone who would be committed to the baby but not to her. There were so many possible pitfalls along the way.

As she looked up towards her apartment on the fourth floor she had a sudden longing to hide away up there until she knew exactly what it would be like to go through with this unpredictable, unconventional plan. Her apartment could be her bolthole if things got too difficult. She could always return there if ever she felt overwhelmed by future circumstances.

The concierge had come to the door to check on the couple looking up at the apartments. He walked down the steps as soon as he recognised Chantal and they chatted for a short time. She told him her mother was enjoying her holiday. As for herself, she was happy at the hospital she was working in on the coast near Le Touquet. No, she didn’t have time to call in because she and her colleague were in a hurry.

Walking off down the street, she knew the concierge had probably found her totally unlike her usual chatty self. But she didn’t want to inadvertently divulge any information about her new situation until she’d come to terms with it herself. As the months progressed her secret would be obvious to everyone.

‘I’ve got the apartment right next door to my mother’s,’ she told Michel, who was no longer holding her hand, sensing her desire to remain discreet in her own neighbourhood.

‘You’re very lucky to have such an arrangement in a neighbourhood like this.’

They turned the corner and walked more quickly along the Avenue Mozart back to their hotel. He took the keys to two rooms from the concierge at Reception. They went up in the lift.

‘You’ve got the room next door to mine. I was wondering if you’d like to go out this evening for supper.’

She hesitated. ‘To be honest, I’m feeling tired.’ she said. ‘I need a long soak in the bath before I make any plans.’

He smiled down at her. ‘Come and have a drink in my room when you feel rested. Take your time. I’ll order something from room service if you like.’

She went into her room and headed straight to her bathroom. Good, there was an enormous bath. Large fluffy towels. A nice long soak and she’d be a new woman.

Half an hour later she was in jeans and tee shirt, packed at the last minute in case she found herself in a casual situation during this flying visit. As she knocked on Michel’s door she realised she was now feeling so relaxed after her long soak that her feet were still bare. And she was wearing no make-up.

‘Goodness, Chantal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so casual.’

‘That’s because we’re staying in tonight.’ As she walked into his room she could smell that indefinable aroma of his aftershave. A decidedly sexy aroma she’d decided the last time he’d worn it. The night their baby had been conceived.

He looked into the small fridge. ‘What non-alcoholic drink would you like, Dr Winstone?’

‘OK, Dr Devine, I get the message. You don’t approve of alcohol for pregnant women, so you’re in luck. Neither do I. Not a drop shall pass my lips until I deliver our baby. Is that an orange juice I can spy in there?’

‘Yes, and it says it’s freshly squeezed, although I doubt it. Anyway, it’s the healthiest drink I can find.’

He carried the glass across to a small table by the window, plumping up the cushion in the armchair, waiting to check she was comfortably ensconced before he collected his own drink from the fridge. She felt a frisson of happiness running through her as she watched him.

They were both committed to the child she was carrying. But at this precise moment she found herself hoping Michel would play a big part in her life as well as the baby’s. The baby was growing inside her and Michel was growing on her. She told herself that her hormones were affecting the way she thought about the father of her child. These feelings she had for him were only natural. But she mustn’t get carried away. She had to stick to the plan they’d agreed on.

For one thing, Michel still loved Maxine. It was obvious to everyone who knew him at the hospital. He’d buried his heart with his wife. He didn’t want to move on. If she wanted their relationship to become a real one she couldn’t compete with a ghost.

The whole idea was that they should be good parents whilst retaining their independence. She’d had a real relationship with Jacques, who’d gone back to his wife. She knew this arrangement with Michel was ideal. She could have a child and still keep her independence.

She’d got over the spell of nostalgia that had struck her as she’d looked up at her apartment. Yes, it could be her bolthole if it became necessary but for tonight she’d settle for the two of them chilling out in their slippers or, in her case, barefoot.

Michel said it would be a good idea to have an early supper. Better for the baby and also he was planning they should catch an early train so they could be at the hospital by midday. She suggested something light for supper and they settled on chicken and salad. While they were waiting Michel called to reserve their train seats for the morning.

Chantal surveyed the well-presented supper when it arrived. The waiter was at pains to set it all out on a small table, spreading a crisp white cloth and placing a large napkin on her lap. She almost wished she’d made the effort to dress up.

‘I feel my old jeans don’t match the occasion,’ she said when the waiter had disappeared.

‘You’d look good in a sack.’

She laughed. ‘I didn’t have a sack so I pulled on the next best thing.’

* * *

She blinked as she found herself falling asleep in the chair. The waiter had already cleared away and she was feeling decidedly sleepy.

She stirred in her chair. ‘Time for me to go back to my room.’

‘Do you have to? I mean go back to your room? I’ve got two beds in my bedroom both with clean sheets on.’

He held out his hands to help her stand up. ‘I’m so sleepy I don’t mind where I sleep.’

He was standing at the door of his bedroom, holding out his hands invitingly now.

‘Come and have a look.’

He moved to take her hands as she stood up.

She looked into the bedroom. ‘This room does look more inviting than mine.’

He smiled. ‘Which bed would you like?’

‘I’ll have this one.’

‘If you open that drawer they’ve even provided a nightdress for the lady guest and pyjamas for the man.’

‘This hotel has certainly been upgraded since my schoolfriends and I walked past.’

She realised she was waking up now, talking quickly, feeling embarrassed that she’d practically invited herself into his bedroom. As she hurried into the bathroom she remembered how she’d told herself she mustn’t sleep with him tonight. She’d drunk only orange juice and bottled water this evening so it had been a conscious decision? She couldn’t justify it in any way except her own desire to be near him tonight. Blame it on her hormones again. She didn’t want to be alone if she could be near her baby’s father. Perfectly natural a mother-to-be should feel that way.

Having justified her desires to herself, she unwrapped the new toothbrush from its packet and scrubbed vigorously. Raising her eyes to the mirror, she saw her intense expression and decided to calm down. She’d made a baby with Michel. There was no need to be shy. She knew she hated sleeping by herself in a hotel. That was the only reason she’d wanted to stay with Michel, wasn’t it?

* * *

She was in her bed when he came out of the bathroom. He came across and sat on the edge of her bed.

They both started to speak at the same time and then burst out laughing.

‘You first,’ Michel said.

‘I was only going to say that I don’t think we should...’

‘So was I.’

‘What?’

He drew in his breath. ‘From a medical point of view I think you need to rest and get a good night’s sleep after your exhausting day.’

She smiled. ‘Exactly. I just didn’t want to sleep alone tonight so...’

‘Neither did I. Move over.’

She hesitated. He looked so sexy in his robe, his hair, still wet from the shower, was flopping over his face. She wanted his arms around her, to reassure her that all would be well. But if he put his arms around her...

Too late. She felt him draw her against his naked body.

‘Do you have to wear this scratchy, lacy thing?’ He was fumbling with the buttons.

She helped him. ‘But we mustn’t.’

‘Absolutely not! But a goodnight kiss won’t harm the baby.’

It was the longest, sexiest, most languorous kiss she could ever imagine. She wanted it to go on for ever. She wanted it to develop into something more, despite her earlier vow that they must never complicate things further by making love again.

It was a good thing that Michel had more will-power than she did.

With a large sigh, he dragged himself away. ‘Goodnight, Chantal.’

‘Don’t go,’ she whispered. ‘Just stay there. Hold me in your arms, nothing more.’

Michel took her in his arms again. He’d always thought of her as being strong, resilient, independent woman. But he sensed that being pregnant again, being in an unconventional situation and all the other problems she was having to deal with, had made her feel vulnerable, unsure of herself.

‘I’ll always be here when you need me,’ he whispered, as she curled herself against him. It was taking all his will-power not to make love to her. He remembered the way she’d clung to him when he’d been inside her on the night they’d made their baby. It was all he could do not to throw caution to the winds and but he had to stay strong.

* * *

Someone was tapping on the door. Michel shrugged into the robe he’d dropped on the floor beside the bed when he’d climbed in with Chantal.

He took the tray from the waiter at the door. Placing it on the bedside table he was pleased to see that the waiter had brought coffee and croissants, enough for two people. Chantal could smell coffee, hear someone pouring it. She opened her eyes then pulled herself up against the pillows so that she could accept the cup and saucer he was holding out for her.

He thought once again how young she looked without make-up. And without that tough exterior she tried to portray. That independence she insisted on. But he’d held her in his arms all night and sensed how vulnerable she really was, scared even. At one point she’d seemed to be having a nightmare. He’d cradled her like a baby, shushed her back to sleeping peacefully. She hadn’t woken.

He mustn’t start falling for her. She was proud of her independence. Wouldn’t surrender it to anyone. He must respect that. It was part of her tough personality. The personality that made her so endearing. He mustn’t become emotional about her just because she was carrying their baby.