Tempted By Collection

On that first day she’d left, he’d come home from work late, sure that she would be gone, and had wandered into her room. He’d looked about—at the bed where she’d slept, at her empty wardrobe, at her empty drawers. For the time they’d been in his home they’d all been so full of her. The whole flat had been filled with her character, her smile, her laughter. She had managed to imbue the whole place with her spirit and energy and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever be able to look at the kitchen again without thinking about her there. His mind had been full of memories of her madly cooking some crazy recipe, whilst singing to the radio, dropping spoons or turning on the blender after forgetting to put on the lid. He’d never forget her burning toast and giving his damn smoke detectors more work than they’d had in years.

He’d moved away from the kitchen and his gaze had fallen on the sofa where they’d made love...

I panicked.

His emotions had been all over the place after they’d made love and the fact that he’d been second-guessing himself hadn’t helped matters. He had always been so sure of everything. Had always considered himself to be a clear, logical thinker. After all, with luck on his side, he could save a dying person—he could stem an arterial bleed; he could resuscitate someone. But now, he was flummoxed. Because he couldn’t figure out if he could know whether he was really in love.

It had been so clear-cut with Meredith. There’d been no hesitation there, no doubt. He’d just known. But with Naomi...it was like he couldn’t think straight with her around. She scrambled his thoughts and toyed with his emotions and he didn’t know whether he was coming or going!

Maybe that was love, too.

Maybe it was a different kind of love. Maybe he had been wrong about everything.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

He certainly knew how it felt to see Naomi doing everything in her power to not come into contact with him. To see her choosing alternate shifts and volunteering to be with the paramedics. Julia and Luke were great and they’d look after her, he knew that, but...

His chest actually hurt, physically, like his heart was constantly aching with pain. His stomach was all over the place, his concentration was shot.

Perhaps separation was a good thing?

Naomi wandered around her new flat, opening windows, letting in the air before she started yet another marathon cleaning session in the flat. Then she turned on the radio, whilst she dusted and scrubbed and cleaned.

It was difficult. Some of the grime was really ingrained and it made her feel sick to look at the state of the dirty water in the bucket she was using. Not that it took much to make her feel sick these days.

She’d noticed it only recently. Her tiredness. Her exhaustion at the end of every day. And then there was the nausea that came whenever she prepared anything to eat. Last night, she’d gone to make herself a tuna sandwich and as soon as she’d opened the tin, the smell had made her heave into the kitchen sink. It was then she’d first wondered if it was something other than pure exhaustion.

She was late, too. She’d never been late. Ever.

She’d bought herself a pregnancy-testing kit, but she hadn’t had the courage to use it yet. It had been three weeks since she had slept with Tom, but...

What would she do, if she were pregnant?

If Tom couldn’t even love her, she didn’t know how he would cope with a baby. Would he be able to love it? She hoped so, for the baby’s sake. They might not be together as a couple, but she would want him to have a role in their child’s life.

But then again, what would that be like for her? She knew immediately that it would be awful. Painful. She couldn’t imagine going through a pregnancy, wanting someone to be there to hold her hand through all the scans and tests, not to mention labour and delivery, but knowing the father it wasn’t an option.

She was getting carried away. She might not even be pregnant.

But a small part of her willed it to be true. She’d always wanted children, but she’d put that desire on hold during her marriage. Even though she’d known there wasn’t a chance of conceiving, every month that had rolled around, bringing with it her next period, had made her feel desperately sad.

She decided she wouldn’t take the test until she had cleaned the bathroom. The old avocado suite actually wasn’t too bad, but there was mould on the grouting and limescale everywhere. There was no way she would use this bathroom for something so monumental as finding out if she was pregnant, without it being clean to her standards.

She emptied the bucket of water down the sink, swirled it out with clean and then filled it once again. As she waited for the level to rise she took the pregnancy test out of her handbag and rested it on the sink.

First thing tomorrow you can tell me my future.

She woke suddenly, with trepidation. Amazingly, she’d slept quite well. The exhaustion she’d been feeling had hit her hard last night, after a whole afternoon spent cleaning and scrubbing.

Her stomach roiled as she sat up in bed. Could this be morning sickness? Naomi knew it was possible for a person to believe something with so much conviction that they could convince themselves that they had an illness. It was called psychosomatic disorder. Was it possible that she was wishing so hard that she was pregnant, that she was making herself feel sick?

More importantly, did she really want Tom’s baby so badly?

She knew the answer was yes. She did want this baby. And she couldn’t think of a better man to be the father. Tom was clever and kind and considerate. He would hopefully be a loving parent, even if he couldn’t love Naomi. Even if there could never be any relationship between them as a couple, she couldn’t imagine him turning his child away.

She stood up and headed for the bathroom. She knew what she needed to do, but she still read the instructions thoroughly, before following them exactly, and then she laid the test stick on the toilet cistern and waited.

Thirty seconds. She had thirty seconds to wait before she could find out if her life had changed. If it had, she felt sure she could turn it into a positive change. She would make this flat work for her. Make her job work for her, too, until she had to go on maternity leave. With this change, her life could be bright again. Being a single mother was nothing strange these days.

See? I can make myself believe I’ll be happy.

Still, a small voice and a large ache in her heart told her that she would never be truly happy without Tom’s love. She could tell herself as many times as she liked that this would turn out all right, but until that moment came she knew she would be miserable.

Be realistic, she thought. Be honest. You want Tom, too.

Yes, she admitted to herself. She did want him. Even now. Even after all this time that they’d spent apart, she was still haunted by the memory of him, of the way he’d kissed her, made her feel, made her laugh. The way he’d made her feel warm and safe inside.

She loved him. It was an inescapable fact. And whether she was carrying his child or not, she knew she could never have him.

Naomi picked up the test and stared at the result. It was positive. She was pregnant. With Tom’s baby.

Never had she ever imagined that she wouldn’t be thrilled at discovering she was pregnant. But with the news suddenly in front of her, she only sat there stunned, tears streaming down her face.

She stayed there for ages, just holding the stick in her hands and staring at it. Outside, she could hear the early-morning bustle of traffic—the honking of horns, the sounds of reversing lorries, people calling out in the street. For everyone else, life was carrying on as normal.

But for Naomi, it was as if time had stood still. She kept wondering how she would tell him. What the look on his face would be. He had told her he would never be able to love someone else.

Please, Tom. Be the man that I know that you are and tell me that you’ll love our child.

It was now mid-April and Naomi knew she ought to be over the moon. Deep down inside, somewhere, she felt sure she was rejoicing. It was just that at the moment she felt numb, as if she was still in shock. She would have to tell Tom sooner or later. He had a right to know. Perhaps the best place would be at the Spring Ball in a few days’ time? It would be neutral ground and they would be surrounded by people, so his reaction would have to be measured and controlled. They could discuss the issue calmly over a nice glass of champagne.

Oops—no. No alcohol for me.

Fruit juice, then. She picked up the phone and called her local GP surgery. She’d need to see the doctor, and organise getting some folic acid. The doctor would get her registered with a midwife and arrange the first visit once she had got past the first trimester.

She was relieved she hadn’t forgotten everything about her maternity training. She could almost pretend that everything was well with the world.

She hoped Tom would take the news calmly and that he would be able to take responsibility and love their child. She didn’t like to think about what it might mean if he wasn’t able to. Maybe she didn’t know him at all.

Surely she hadn’t read him wrong. Tom couldn’t fail to be a good father, surely. He was charming and dependable and caring. Caring for others was in his DNA. He was a doctor, for crying out loud, and a damned good one on top of that. He loved his work, making sure that others were okay.

An image of him cradling a child in his arms came unbidden to her and she felt an ache deep in the pit of her stomach. She allowed herself to imagine him looking at that child with such intense love.

She imagined him turning to her with the same look in his eyes, and drawing her towards him...

She dashed the image from her mind. She couldn’t think of him in that way any more. She couldn’t think of him in her arms. Holding her close.

It was all such a mess! She would wait until the evening of the ball and then she would tell him about the baby. She’d agreed to go with Stefan as a friend, not as a date, so she was sure she’d be able to slip away and find Tom.

That was assuming he was going to the ball!

CHAPTER TEN

IT WAS THE next weekend and Naomi had arranged to go shopping for her ball gown with Jackie. They went to a variety of stores on the busy London streets, searching for something that appealed. There were rack upon rack of lovely dresses in all colours, shapes and sizes, but still nothing had leapt out at Naomi.

She had been fighting off her exhaustion all morning, sipping from a carton of banana milkshake to stop the pangs of sickness from overwhelming her as they shopped. She didn’t want Jackie to suspect she was pregnant, before she’d had a chance to tell Tom. It was only right that he found out first.

Jackie had managed to find her gown in the first store they went into. It was a beautiful off-the-shoulder scarlet dress, quite figure-hugging all the way to her knees, where it suddenly flowed outwards freely. The bodice was highlighted by small diamanté stones and it had looked gorgeous on her as she’d stood on the small podium and twirled in front of the mirror, so that Naomi could see it fully.

‘It looks gorgeous on you, Jackie.’

‘Oh, thanks. You know people have always said that red is my colour.’

Jackie had stepped down and wriggled back behind the curtain to get changed into her normal clothes.

‘They’re right. You looked great,’ Naomi had added.

Her friend had peered around the curtain at her. ‘Pity we can’t say the same for you.’

‘What?’

‘What’s going on between you and Tom? One minute you’re flatmates, all nice and cosy, and the best of friends, the next you can barely tolerate breathing the same air as him.’

Naomi had briefly seen a vision of herself in Tom’s arms, feeling cherished and adored and loved. Then she’d pushed the image away. He hadn’t thought about it the same way. ‘We had a difference in opinion.’

‘What about?’

‘I’d rather not talk about it. I’ve moved on.’

‘You’ve moved flat! Stefan tells me you’re in his block now. How’s that working out for you?’

It’s horrible, she’d thought. I hate that flat. It’s not home. It’s not me!

‘Yeah, it’s good.’

‘It sounds like a lot of work from what Stefan tells me. You need a hand?’

‘Er...maybe. Yeah. We could have one of those wallpaper-stripping parties.’

Jackie had swished the curtain open, dressed in her normal clothes once again. ‘Please tell me you don’t have a woodchip nightmare?’

Naomi had nodded and laughed when she’d seen the look of horror on her friend’s face. ‘I do.’

‘Oh, shoot. That’s such a delight to remove!’

Jackie had paid for her dress and, once it had been wrapped in tissue paper, boxed and bagged, they’d headed out of the shop.

Now they were trying yet another store, still searching for something for Naomi.

‘How’s A&E?’ she asked as they wandered. ‘What am I missing?’

‘Not much. You should know—you bring in half the cases! How are you enjoying your time with the paramedics?’

‘It’s good. Interesting, but...’

‘It’s not A&E.’

‘No.’

‘Do you miss it?’

She nodded.

‘You miss Tom, too, don’t you?’

Naomi tried not to make eye contact with her friend, but Jackie was persistent. She stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at her. ‘Naomi!’

‘Yes! Yes, I do.’

‘Even though you were only flatmates?’

She coloured.

‘I knew it! I knew there was more to it than what you were letting on! What happened?’

‘I don’t really want to talk about it. It upsets me. Please, Jackie. Don’t say anything to anyone. Least of all Stefan. He’s such a gossip.’

Jackie threaded her arm through Naomi’s. ‘My lips are sealed. But, you know, I will say one thing.’

‘What?’

‘That that man cares for you beyond belief. He’s miserable now; he’s like a robot again. He’s acting just the way he did after his wife died. I don’t know what he’s done to upset you, Naomi, but he loves you. You mark my words.’

She stared straight ahead.

No, he doesn’t.

It didn’t matter what Jackie said. Tom didn’t love her. He’d told her he was incapable of it. He’d said he didn’t believe in a second chance at love.

You mark my words...he loves you...

She smiled sadly. If only that were true. It was nice of Jackie to say that, but Naomi didn’t need to hear it. It only gave her false hope. But she wouldn’t be able to cope if she went to him and told him that she loved him and he threw it back in her face. If it were true, and Jackie were right, then it needed to come from Tom. And Naomi already knew that would never happen.

Jackie said no more about Tom as they continued to shop. And eventually, Naomi found a wonderful dress in midnight blue. It was ankle-length, one-shouldered, and it had a beautiful black lace overlay around the waist. They found a gorgeous red clutch to contrast with it, which wasn’t hugely expensive. Naomi decided this would be her last extravagance. All her future funds would have to go towards the flat and things for the baby. But this dress would be her swansong to being a single woman. After this, if all went well, she would be a single mother. She briefly wondered what Vincent would have said, if he could have seen her. She hoped that he would have been proud.

She was suddenly glad she was going to the ball. It was a fitting way to end this current chapter in her life.

‘I’ve probably made a mistake in accepting Stefan’s invite,’ she confessed to Jackie.

‘Stefan is full of himself. But he’s a decent guy underneath all that rubbish he doles out.’

Naomi twirled in front of the mirror in her dress, eyeing the gown and trying to see if her pregnancy showed, which of course it didn’t—it was still early days. Thank goodness. No one would guess her secret. No one would tell Tom until she’d had the chance to see him first.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TOM WAS HARD at work in A&E. Unable to cope with the maelstrom of thoughts in his head about Naomi, he’d sought solace the way he had used to do, treating the sick and injured.

So far that day he’d seen a cardiac arrest, a tree surgeon who had fallen over twenty feet onto his back, some victims from a bad road-traffic accident and a query stroke victim.

Work had been the only way he’d been able to make himself feel better after Meredith’s death. And so he’d expected his work to have the same effect after everything that had happened with Naomi.

But it wasn’t working. His head was still in a spin. He wasn’t his normal calm, polite self. Instead, he was being terse. Curt. His temper felt extremely short and every time he caught himself snapping at someone, he would inwardly berate himself.

All he could think about was Naomi.

His neat, stable little world had crumpled in on itself. He could barely keep himself upright. He could barely keep putting one foot in front of the other, without thinking about her, wishing that he’d acted differently, wishing it all could have ended differently.

He’d sworn to himself after Meredith had died that he’d never again go through that pain of losing someone that he loved. He’d promised never to expose himself to that all-consuming grief that he’d experienced once before.

But wasn’t he suffering now anyway? He was certainly already in pain. And was that because he loved Naomi? Was he feeling this pain and uncertainty, all because he was denying himself the woman that he loved?

His brow rumpled in thought. If he admitted to himself that perhaps he did love Naomi, then what would happen? He didn’t know if there was any point in telling her. He’d already messed her around once, upset her, so he doubted she’d want to listen to him now. It was too late. He’d already told her he couldn’t love another.

He winced as he recalled his words.

If Naomi had any sense, she would run a mile. He’d used her. Unwittingly maybe. Naively, perhaps. But still, she’d said he had opened her eyes to possibilities in her life. That he’d made her realise a need for love that she’d closed the door on, just as he had. She’d just opened that door earlier than he had. She’d been ready to cope with it, ready to risk love again.

The question was...was he ready?

He was suffering so much now, because there was so much distance between them, when what he really wanted was the opposite. He’d imposed a self-built barrier of fear. And just as he’d done that, she too had tried to protect herself by moving away from him.

They’d both thought they had been protecting themselves, but in reality they hadn’t. They’d only caused themselves more hurt, because they’d believed that the alternative could only lead to pain.

But what if I allowed myself to love again? What if Naomi gave me another chance and said yes?

Tom looked down at his paperwork. There was still so much he needed to do. Yet the Spring Ball was just a few hours away and Naomi was going with Stefan. He was a decent nurse, but still... Stefan? The hospital Lothario? Tom couldn’t bear the idea.

He glanced at the clock, trying to make his decision.

Suddenly he knew exactly where he had to go.

Tom knelt in front of the headstone and laid the bunch of calla lilies on Meredith’s grave. Then he stood back and looked hard at the words and letters etched into the stone.

Meredith Williams

Beloved Wife

He cleared his throat.

‘Meredith? I need to tell you...that I love you. That I will always love you and there will always be a treasured space for you in my heart, but... I’ve met someone. Her name’s Naomi.’

His gaze drifted from his wife’s name to her photograph embedded in the stone within a golden heart. He looked at that smiling face, the twinkle in her eyes, remembering her as she’d beamed at the camera on that day so long ago.

‘You’d like her. She’s a nurse, like you. Spirited. Funny. Passionate. Caring.’ He sighed and his shoulders dropped as he looked up and past the other stones, across the empty field to the trees in the distance, gathering his thoughts. Gathering more words.

‘She means an awful lot to me and that surprised me because I didn’t think anyone could mean anything to me any more.’ He reached out to touch the cold stone. ‘I want to be with her. She may not want me, after the way I’ve treated her, but at least I’m thinking clearly now. I know what I want and I know that you, more than anyone else in the world, would want me to be happy. So I’m going to try.’

He stood there for a few more quiet moments, listening to the birds singing in the nearby trees, and spotted a squirrel scratching at the ground a few metres away. Even a rabbit had dared to venture out from the hedgerow, but it scurried away as soon as it noticed him.

Tom turned back to his wife’s picture and sucked in a deep breath. This was it. His decision. He was moving forward now. He couldn’t live his life the way he had for eight years. He’d been in limbo and it was all so clear to him now. Before Naomi had come into his life, and he’d just thought of himself as a widower, he had convinced himself that was it. That that was the way his life was going to be for the rest of his days. But he’d been wrong. He’d been so utterly wrong.

His feelings for Naomi had been so unexpected, so sudden. He had been like a man on death row who had been told that in actual fact he was being set free.

Naomi had set him free and he was no longer a prisoner. He’d done his time.

Tom gazed at Meredith’s picture. He didn’t feel sadness. He didn’t feel regret.

He felt content. Right.

He felt sure.

‘Goodbye, Meredith.’ He touched his fingers to the stone one final time and closed his eyes, feeling the soft breeze on his face, and it was as if he knew she was telling him it was okay. A smile reached his face.

Opening his eyes, he began to walk away.

He didn’t need to look back.

Naomi was getting ready for the ball. There was none of the excitement that she once would have had at the thought of such an event. Her dress was beautiful and Jackie had taken up her hair for her, which was now held in place by bejewelled pins. Looking in the mirror, as she finished her make-up, she felt she truly did look like the princess that Jackie had told her she would be.

But she didn’t feel like one. She didn’t feel the happiness she knew she ought to be feeling. After all, this was going to be her big goodbye, her first and last large event with the department. She’d decided that, after this, she would work out the months she had before she gave birth but then she would leave Welbeck. She would be the best mother to her child that she could be. She’d been given this opportunity, after all this time, and she was going to embrace it.

As she slipped on her heels and put on her bracelet and matching earrings, she tried to find the smile that had been missing from her face for so long.

She popped a small piece of ginger into her mouth. She’d been chewing on small pieces for a few days now. It seemed to help that awful sick feeling in her stomach that seemed to be there on a permanent basis. She took a deep breath.