The Nurse by J. Corrigan (list of ebook readers txt) 📕

‘She needs to grow up and get her life together,’ I said, lifting my head to look at him. ‘And sort out her stuff… with you.’

‘You’re right, she does. And she is. I think it got worse after her divorce.’ He leaned down and grabbed hold of my foot, giving it a quick massage. It felt good.

I’d lost all sympathy for Abigail, although I was looking forward to meeting Zakaria in Morocco once the baby was born. The old man had written to Daniel (he refused to use the phone, and didn’t even have one), and two of the letters included sections he’d written for me to read.

Daniel got up. ‘Right, I’ve got paperwork to do for Bluefields. Off to the study for an hour.’

I remained on the floor, thinking. We’d had a good Christmas and had spent the day itself with my mum and Sam. The only other person at the dinner table had been Mrs Finsbury, who still came to clean the house once a week (I always looked forward to Thursdays); she’d come at Christmas without her son, who was, despite Daniel’s help with a decent solicitor, spending Christmas inside. I’d felt sorry for the unknown non-law-abiding Rob. Being inside a prison would kill me.

Finally I managed to get up from the floor. I walked into the hallway and through to the big lounge, where I sat down clumsily on the lime-coloured sofa. God, I was so uncomfortable. I’d be glad when the baby came. Patting my stomach, I sank further into the plump cushions. It’s all going to be good, little one. I loved my baby more than I despised myself for not being in the final year of my training, but September wasn’t that far away, and that was when we’d decided I’d pick up my studies again. Daniel had suggested a nanny, which I’d told him I didn’t want. We’ll figure it out, he’d said. I knew, though, that a September restart was just a dream on my part, and his, but neither of us said that out loud.

Hauling myself up very slowly, I made my way upstairs to our baby’s room. On entering, I checked the Winnie-the-Pooh clock ticking placidly on the rose-pink wall. Just after eleven. Closing the door, I went to sit in the rocker, admiring the crib Daniel had made. He’d spent hours in his workshop, and I smiled thinking about it.

I was meeting Casey later in the afternoon at the local pool for our weekly swim. She said she looked forward to our meets just to see my huge stomach. My due date was still three days away, but I was so big I couldn’t see myself lasting that long. Mark had said he suspected an earlier birthday for my child.

I heard the nursery door open. Daniel.

‘You okay?’

‘I’m good.’

‘Do you need a lift to the swimming baths later?’

‘It’s fine I’ll get the bus.’

‘Rose, you can hardly walk ten metres.’

I grinned. ‘I know.’ I looked down at my belly. All up front, as the strangers liked to tell me.

He crouched down, putting his hands on the top of the mound, and nuzzled my ear. ‘How’s Samira?’

‘Waiting for her swim.’ We’d already agreed on a name. Moroccan in origin and Daniel’s idea, but I did really like it. In Zakaria’s last letter, he’d told me he loved the name – it was his great-grandmother’s apparently. I’d tried to work out old Samira’s relationship to our Samira, and thought it was three ‘greats’. ‘Doing lots of swimming inside Mum, I’d imagine,’ I carried on.

His hand slipped over my bump and downwards, easily finding its way into the top of my elasticated trousers, his fingers rubbing softly at my pubic bone. ‘Rose, you’re beautiful. I love you like this. Big and pregnant.’

I let out a sigh. During the past few weeks my libido had been sky-high, or was it just Daniel who did that to me? Despite our disagreements about Abigail, Ed and the man from Mussels, and the grief about my course, I was in love, and still in lust. I was having a baby, I had Daniel, and even my relationship with my mother had improved.

He pulled his hand away and rested his head on my shoulder. ‘I didn’t know it would be like this.’

I turned. ‘Like what?’

‘The way I feel.’

I placed my hand on his hardness. ‘Like this?’

‘You’ve bewitched me,’ he groaned.

He helped me up and we lay down on the floor. Clumsily I turned on my side on the long, soft fibres of the rug, feeling the warmth from the torrent of winter sun that cascaded in through the window and onto my face. He pulled at the elastic of my maternity trousers. I heard him taking off his own, and he moved behind me, pushing forwards a little. Then, warmth in between my legs.

I wouldn’t be going swimming with Casey later. My waters had broken. Samira would soon be welcomed into her new world, and I was so happy. So very happy.

‘My baby is ready,’ Daniel whispered.

‘Our baby.’

He turned his head away and got up. ‘I meant you’re ready, Rose.’

I didn’t move as the first wave of pain began to ricochet through my body. Daniel had already left the room, to call all the relevant people.

He never called me baby. Babe occasionally, but never baby.

45

It felt as if Daniel was gone for hours. From Samira’s room I could hear his barked instructions, although I couldn’t make out the words, and when another contraction overtook me, I stopped trying to do so.

Finally he returned, and with him holding me upright we made our way downstairs and into the car. A stab of pain, and he started the engine, driving too quickly out of the entrance. There was a sickening crunch of metal as he caught the side of the MG on the brick pillar.

Mark was waiting outside when we got to Bluefields, flanked by Cam. He smiled broadly, as if the event should be savoured, and I