Скачать книгу

Catherine had been rewarded by some very firm kicks, and from that point on she’d warmed to Ella.

      The O’Briens had instantly adopted Oliver as one of their own and, although Oliver had been wary about the first meeting between Roisin and Catherine, to his surprise they’d got on really well. Roisin was too straightforward for there to be any misunderstandings; and, once Catherine had discovered just how well Roisin played the piano, they’d bonded over a shared love of music and their future grandbaby.

      Prue and Ned had also had a son, a couple of weeks before Ella had Harry, so Oliver was no longer the ‘spare’. To his delight, having that pressure taken off meant that his parents had finally accepted what he did for a living. Catherine had even suggested that the next Darrington Christmas cocktail party should be a fundraiser for Teddy’s. She’d been backed by Ella, Prue and Roisin; and the O’Briens had come over from Ireland this week to help with the last-minute arrangements for the party.

      Life, Oliver thought, didn’t get any better than this.

      Knowing that his father and Joe were bringing in the luggage, and Catherine and Roisin were in the kitchen with the baby, he scooped Ella into his arms and swung her round before kissing her. ‘Hey. Happy Christmas. I love you.’

      She kissed him back. ‘Happy Christmas, Oliver. I love you, too.’ She smiled. ‘I thought last year I had the best present ever, when I found out that I was expecting our Harry, but I was wrong. Because this is the best present ever—our family, all together.’

      ‘Our family, all together,’ he agreed, and kissed her again.

No image description

       Midwife’s Mistletoe Baby

      Fiona McArthur

      Dedicated to my darling husband, Ian.

       Because I love you xx Fiona

       PROLOGUE

       March

      RAYNE WALTERS BREATHED a sigh of relief as he passed through immigration and then customs at Sydney airport, deftly texted—I’m through—and walked swiftly towards the exit. Simon would be quick to pick him up. Very efficient was Simon.

      He’d had that feeling of disaster closing in since the hiccough at LA when he’d thought he’d left it too late. But the customs officers had just hesitated and then frowned at him and waved him through.

      He needed to get to Simon, the one person he wanted to know the truth, before it all exploded in his face. Hopefully not until he made it back to the States. Though they were the same age, and the same height, Simon was like a brother and mentor when he’d needed to make life choices for good rather than fast decisions.

      But this choice was already made. He just wanted it not to come as a shock to the one other person whose good opinion mattered. He wasn’t looking forward to Simon’s reaction, and there would be anger, but the steps were already in motion.

      A silver car swung towards him. There he was. He lifted his hand and he could see Simon’s smile as he pulled over.

      ‘Good to see you, mate.’

      ‘You too.’ They’d never been demonstrative, Rayne had found it too hard——but their friendship in Simon’s formative years had been such a light in his grey days, and a few hilarious hell-bent nights, so that just seeing Simon made him feel better.

      They pulled out into the traffic and his friend spoke without looking at him. ‘So what’s so urgent you need to fly halfway around the world you couldn’t tell me on the phone? I can’t believe you’re going back tomorrow morning.’

      Rayne glanced at the heavy traffic and decided this mightn’t be a good time to distract Simon with his own impending disaster. Or was that just an excuse to put off the moment? ‘Can we wait till we get to your place?’

      He watched Simon frown and then nod. ‘Sure. Though Maeve’s there. She’s just had a break-up so I hope a sister in my house won’t cramp your style.’

      Maeve. Little Maeve, Geez. It was good to think of someone other than himself for a minute. She’d been hot as a teenager and he could imagine she’d be drop-dead gorgeous by now. All of Simon’s sisters were but he’d always had a soft spot for Maeve, the youngest. He’d bet, didn’t know why, that Maeve had a big front of confidence when, in fact, he’d suspected she was a lot softer than the rest of the strong females in the house.

      Though there’d been a few tricky moments when she’d made sure he knew she fancied him—not politic when you were years older than her. He’d got pretty good at not leaving Simon’s side while Maeve had been around. ‘I haven’t seen Maeve for maybe ten years. She was probably about fifteen and a self-assured little miss then.’

      ‘Most of the time she is. Still a marshmallow underneath, though. But she makes me laugh.’

      She’d made Rayne laugh too, but he’d never mentioned his avoidance techniques to Simon. He doubted Simon would have laughed at that. Rayne knew Simon thrived on protecting his sisters. It had never been said but the Keep away from my sisters sign was clearly planted between them. And Rayne respected that.

      ‘How are your parents?’ It was always odd, asking, because he’d only had his mum, and Simon had two sets of parents. Simon’s father, who Rayne had known as a kid, had turned out to be Simon’s stepdad and he remembered very well how bitter Simon had been about all the lies. Bitter enough to change his last name.

      But Simon’s mum had chosen to go with someone she’d thought could give her accidental child the life she wanted him to have, and had been very happy with Simon’s wealthy stepdad. Simon’s birth father hadn’t known of his son’s existence until Simon had accidentally found out and gone looking for him.

      No such fairy-tale for himself. ‘Your father is dead and not worth crying over,’ was all his mother had ever said.

      ‘You know Dad and Mum moved to Boston?’ Simon’s voice broke into his thoughts. ‘Dad’s bypass went well and Mum’s keeping us posted.’

      ‘Good stuff.’ Rayne glanced at his friend and enjoyed the smile that lit Simon’s face. Funnily, he’d never been jealous of Simon’s solid family background. Just glad that he could count this man as his friend and know he wouldn’t be judged. Except maybe in the next half-hour when he broke the news.

      Simon went on. ‘And Angus and the Lyrebird Lake contingent are great. I saw them all at Christmas.’ More smiles. He was glad it had all worked out for Simon.

      Then the question Rayne didn’t want. ‘And your mum? She been better since you moved her out to live with you?’ Another glance his way and he felt his face freeze as Simon looked at him.

      ‘Fine.’ If he started there then the whole thing would come out in the car and he just needed a few more minutes of soaking up the good vibes.

      Instead, they talked about work.

      About Simon’s antenatal breech clinic he was running at Sydney Central. He’d uncovered a passion for helping women avoid unnecessary Caesareans for breech babies when possible and was becoming one of the leaders in re-establishing the practice of experienced care for normal breech births.

      ‘So how’s your job going?’ Simon looked across. ‘Still the dream job, making fistloads of money doing what you love?’

      ‘Santa Monica’s great. The house is finished and looking great.’ Funny how unimportant that was in the big picture. ‘My boss wants me to think about becoming one of

Скачать книгу