‘Aw, bless him. You know, he’s going to have a great life that wee one – despite the traumatic start. Anyway, tell Tress I send my best.’
‘I will do.’ He checked his watch. ‘In fact, I might go drop in on her now, since we’ve finished early. I’ve got some time to spare.’The Clydesidestudio was only a ten-minute walk away and she’d probably be about to go on her lunch break just now. Or, if not, she could maybe stop for a coffee. He thought about phoning, but he wanted to tell her in person that Anya had resurfaced. This affected Tress too. Anya had been her friend before they’d discovered she was also Max’s mistress. It was a tangled web, and Tress was the only other person who truly got it and who felt the same pain. She deserved to know straight from him what was going on.
He got up, grabbed his bag and jacket, and June stepped back from the door to let him past. ‘You know, Dr Clark…’ she always switched to his formal name when she was in a professional setting or teasing him. No one else was around, so he guessed she was going for the latter. He wasn’t wrong. ‘I watched that programme that was on last night about Shania Twain. Do you know that…’
He didn’t stick around to hear the rest.
8
KELI
Her shift had been relentlessly busy and Keli welcomed every second of the distraction. There were twenty-eight patients between the ten rooms on the ward and Keli had checked in on all of them, bringing herself up to speed before Dr McVitie was ready for his rounds, which then kept her busy for another hour. Dr McVitie was old-school, abrupt, sharp, but the nurses on the ward forgave his gruffness because he was a brilliant doctor who genuinely cared about his patients.
It was almost noon by the time she got a minute to pause and check her phone.
The first thing she did was text Noah.
Are you ok? What happened? If you need me, just holler.
She waited to see if the three dots appeared, showing he was replying, but nothing. Assuming Anya hadn’t kidnapped him, he’d still be in clinic. She decided to wait a while and then text back, but just as she had that thought, a text dropped in.
All okay. Will explain later. Just heading to see Tress. Thanks for being my bodyguard. Nx
Relieved, and trying not to let curiosity compel her to phone him right now and demand full information, she fired off a quick reply.
Bodyguarding services available any time. Love you. Kx
She pressed send, then checked the rest of her notifications.
One missed called from her mum, immediately followed by a text.
Keli, this is your mother. If you don’t send proof of life in the next hour, I’m arranging a search party.
There was a second text message straight after that one.
Also, don’t forget to come for dinner. And make sure your brother comes too. You both need to eat.
She was a twenty-nine-year-old woman who’d been living on her own since she went to college at eighteen. Noah was almost forty, a medical professional with a pretty dedicated workout regime, yet their mum still thought they could keel over at any moment if they didn’t have her home cooking at least twice a week.
Realising that her mum might just be serious, Keli quickly typed back.
I’m fine, Mum, and really sorry I’ve been MIA – it’s been hectic. Will be there for dinner tonight. Love you xx
The reply was immediate.
Search party called off. Love you too.
Keli swallowed down the lump that had just formed in her throat. They were lucky to have their parents and she never forgot that. No matter what, her mum would stand by her and be supportive, but the nerves under her skin still prickled at the thought of telling her she could be pregnant to a man who’d very obviously ended their relationship – even if he hadn’t had the balls to tell her that to her face. Not because her mum would disapprove, but because she’d be highly likely to use her crack interrogation skills to make Keli tell her every detail about this guy, then storm his place of work and forcefully give him her opinion of his behaviour.
Keli knew she should probably do the same thing, but what was the point? He’d made his feelings clear by the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from him for the last month. At first, she’d wondered if there was something wrong with his phone. Maybe her texts weren’t getting through. She’d called him, but it went to voicemail every time. She had a vague idea of where he lived, although she’d never been there. Somehow, it had always seemed easier for them to hang out at her place. He’d told her he had family staying with him for a few months while their house was being renovated and that he’d invite her over as soon as they were gone. And yes, in hindsight she realised how shady that sounded, but he’d been so plausible, so utterly fucking believable, that she’d fallen for it all. And that, right there, was what she didn’t want to admit to anyone. Her mum had brought her up to value her worth, to be strong and smart, yet she’d fallen for his bullshit and his charm when she should have known so much better.
Without thinking, her fingers crossed the screen to Instagram. That’s how she knew that he was intentionally avoiding her. He’d blocked her on social media, and she’d had to resort to signing in under a new email address to see his posts. And there they still were. Almost every day. Him looking ‘just out of bed sexy’, drinking coffee in the morning. A late-evening walk with his dog along the river. His life was just carrying on as normal while hers was spinning like an emotional tumble dryer. Hurt. Sadness. Anger. Disgust. Disdain. And then finally acceptance, which was blown away in a heartbeat a few days ago when, after yet another bout of inexplicable nausea, she’d realised her period was late. Her first reaction was that it must just be stress. Anxiety. Utter fricking heartbreak that someone she’d thought had been so special had clearly been playing her all along. And besides, they’d taken precautions. Condoms. And they’d used them religiously. Okay, apart from that one time that it had burst, and they hadn’t realised until…
‘Are you okay?’ Yvie leaned on the top of the desk and interrupted her thoughts.
‘I’m fine – just texting my mother before she sends out a search party.’
‘Wise move. Can you do me a favour please? Dr McVitie wants a rush on this swab for Mrs McDandy in bed 16 – fancy dropping it down to the lab? I’d go, but I don’t trust myself not to detour to the café for a ginger slice and a bacon roll, and I’m on day two of my diet.’
