Ella laughed. ‘Oh, I miss you both so much.’
‘You’ll be home in a couple of weeks for Christmas,’ Roisin said, ‘and we can give you a proper hug then. Are you keeping well in yourself?’
‘Just a bit of morning sickness.’
‘You need crackers by your bedside,’ Roisin began, then laughed. ‘Hark at me trying to give a midwife advice on pregnancy.’
‘You’re my Mam,’ Ella said. ‘Of course you’ll tell me, and when I get home you know I want to know everything about when you were pregnant with me.’
‘She’ll talk the hind leg off a donkey,’ Joe said.
‘As if you won’t, too, Joe O’Brien,’ Roisin teased back.
‘You sort things out with your young man,’ Joe said, ‘and you bring him home with you for Christmas so we can give him a proper welcome to the family.’
‘I’ll try,’ Ella said. And she knew her parents meant it. They’d definitely welcome Oliver. Her ‘young man’. She couldn’t help smiling. If only. ‘I love you, Da. And you, Mam.’
‘We love you, too,’ Roisin said. ‘Can we have a copy of that photo—our first picture of our grandbaby?’
‘I’ll scan it in and send it tonight,’ Ella promised. ‘As soon as we’ve finished our video call.’
‘Good night, darling,’ Roisin said. ‘And you call us any time, you hear?’
‘I hear. Love you,’ Ella said, and ended the call.
It had made her homesick, and she was tearful again by the time she scanned in the photograph and emailed it over to her parents. Part of her wanted to call Oliver and ask him to come with her to Ireland for Christmas; but he probably already had plans. Plans that wouldn’t include her. She’d just have to take this whole thing day by day, and hope that things would get easier between them.
Oliver brooded about the situation with Ella and the baby for the rest of Tuesday. It didn’t help when he had a text from his mother, asking him if he could please confirm whether he was going to come to the drinks party at Darrington Hall on Thursday night.
He hadn’t been to his parents’ annual pre-Christmas drinks party for years. But maybe it was time he tried to thaw out his relationship with his family. Particularly as he was about to become a father.
How would his family react to the news? He had no idea. Would they expect him to settle down? Would they try to use the baby as an excuse to make him leave the hospital and spend his time working with his brother, instead of doing the job he’d trained for years and years to do? Would it be the thing that brought them back together again? Or would their awkward relationship be like a marriage under strain and crack even further under the extra pressure of a baby?
It was all such a mess.
It would help if he knew what Ella wanted. Did she regret what had happened between them? Or would she be prepared to try and make a life together?
He didn’t have a clue.
And he didn’t even know how to begin to ask.
BY WEDNESDAY MORNING, the frustration was too much for Oliver. Usually he was self-contained, but right now he really needed to talk this over, preferably with someone he could trust to keep this to themselves.
The best person he could think of was Sebastian. Prince Sebastian Falco of Montanari had been one of his best friends since they’d met during Seb’s first week at university, when Oliver had been nearing the end of his medical degree; they’d hit it off immediately, despite the four-year difference in their ages. Given his position as the heir to the kingdom of Montanari, Sebastian knew about the importance of privacy. And it didn’t matter that Sebastian and Oliver hadn’t actually seen each other for a few months; they always picked up their friendship exactly where they’d left off.
Oliver looked at the scan photograph again, then picked up his mobile phone and called Sebastian’s private number.
To his relief the prince answered immediately. ‘Hello, Olly. How are you?’
All over the place. Not that Oliver was going to admit it. ‘Fine, fine,’ he fibbed. ‘Seb, have I caught you in the middle of something, or do you have a few minutes?’
‘I’ve probably got about ten minutes,’ Sebastian said ruefully, ‘and then I really do have to be in a meeting. It’s good to hear from you, Olly. How are things?’
‘Complicated,’ Oliver said wryly.
‘Would this be as in female complications?’ Sebastian asked. ‘Or is it the new job?’
‘Both—and thank you for the case of champagne, by the way.’
‘It’s the least I could do,’ Sebastian said. ‘So what are these complications? I take it that’s why you’re ringing me—to get an impartial point of view?’
‘And a bit of perspective.’ Oliver blew out a breath. He really didn’t know where to start. Or maybe he should just do the whole mixed-up lot at once. ‘It’s crazy at work, what with the winter vomiting virus wiping out half the staff, and Sienna’s going on maternity leave any day now. And I’m going to be a father.’
There was silence on the other end of the line.
‘Seb? Are you still there?’
Was his friend really that shocked by the news of Oliver’s impending fatherhood? Oh, hell. That didn’t bode well for his family’s reaction. Sebastian was much more laid back than Oliver’s parents.
‘Sorry, Olly. Someone needed me for a second. You were saying, half of your department’s having babies?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Not half of us—that’s the virus wiping everyone out—though it does feel as if everyone’s going on leave. Just Sienna. Obviously you know her from when she did the training at the hospital for you.’
‘Yes. She did a good job—thank you for recommending her.’
There was something in Sebastian’s voice that Oliver couldn’t quite work out. Or maybe it wasn’t the best line. He didn’t always get great mobile phone reception in his office.
‘So Sienna got married when she came back to England?’ Sebastian asked.
‘No, she’s still single. But she knows we’re all there for her and she’s got a very willing rota of babysitters when the baby arrives. It’s due somewhere around the beginning of February.’
‘I see.’ There was a pause. ‘So you’re going to be a dad. Should I be offering congratulations or commiserations?’
‘Both,’ Oliver said wryly. ‘Though at least this one’s definitely mine.’
‘Not a repeat of Justine, then.’
Trust Sebastian to come straight to the point. It was one of the things that Oliver appreciated about his friend: his ability to focus on the important thing and cut through all the irrelevancies. ‘No. And Ella’s nothing like Justine. She’s open and honest. And very independent.’
‘So she won’t let you boss her about.’
Oliver knew his friend was teasing him—or was he? Was he really as overbearing and bossy as Ella said he was?
‘When’s the baby due?’ Sebastian asked.
‘In