‘It’s not that sort of work,’ he lied, and felt a wave of resentment that Lucy was bringing them all to this. His fingers closed around the memory stick and he pulled it out and shut the drawer. ‘Got it. Right, sweetheart, I need to head off. You be good for Mummy, OK?’
‘I’m always good,’ she said reproachfully, and he hugged her, because it was true, she was a good girl and he loved her more than he could ever find the words.
‘It’s not for long,’ he said, mentally crossing his fingers as he bent to kiss her goodnight. ‘I’ll see you again in a day or two.’
‘Ring first,’ Lucy said from the doorway. She was standing there with Lottie, and the baby was leaning out towards him and grizzling, so he took her and hugged her tight, crushing the lump in his throat and gritting his teeth.
‘I’d better go,’ he said, handing Lottie back and ruffling Megan’s hair. ‘I’ll see you soon, guys.’
He let himself out, shutting the door behind him without collecting any of the clothes he’d meant to get, and all the way back to the motel he wrestled with the lump in his throat.
‘Right, where are we going for coffee?’
Coffee?
Lucy stared at Daisy, then shut her eyes. ‘Sorry, I’d forgotten. It’s been a bit …’
She bit her lip and looked away, and Daisy tutted and started to walk. ‘Come on, we’ll go back to mine. Ben bought some really nice coffee, and I made chocolate brownies yesterday. Sometimes a girl just needs chocolate.’
Lucy hesitated for a split second, then went with her. Ben and Daisy had moved recently to a lovely Victorian house a couple of streets away. She’d been itching to see it, but now, suddenly, it didn’t seem important any more. Nothing did, apart from Andy, but Daisy’s kindness called out to her, and she knew instinctively that anything she said would stay right there and she so needed a friend to talk to.
‘What about the buggy?’ she asked as Daisy opened the battered but beautiful old front door. ‘The wheels are a bit muddy but Lottie’s asleep.’
‘Oh, you’re fine. The floor’s tiled. Bring her in.’
Daisy let Thomas out of his buggy and headed for the kitchen, and Lucy left Lottie sleeping and followed her, staring around at the shabby, tatty grandeur of the lovely old house.
‘Excuse the mess, we’ve got quite a lot to do here,’ Daisy said with a grin, reaching for the kettle, then her smile softened. ‘Sit down and relax. You look shattered, Lucy.’
She sat, unwilling to talk about the mess her marriage was in and yet so desperate to pour it all out, to share the craziness that was her life right now.
Daisy put a cake tin on the table, plonked the cafetière down beside it with a couple of mugs and a jug of foamed hot milk, then sat Thomas in his high chair with a drink and a chunk of squidgy, gooey chocolate cake that Lucy just knew would go everywhere, but Daisy didn’t seem to care in the least.
‘Right,’ she said, settling down and smiling at Lucy. ‘Coffee?’
She let her breath out on a little huff and smiled. ‘Please. That would be lovely. And some of that. It looks really good.’
Daisy put the coffee down in front of her, handed her chocolate sprinkles and a massive chunk of brownie and then stirred her coffee thoughtfully.
‘Lucy, I don’t want to invade your privacy,’ she said gently after a pregnant silence, ‘but—if you want to unload, it won’t go any further, and I can see something’s wrong. Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Do?’ she asked, staring at Daisy and seeing concern in her eyes. They swam out of focus, and she looked quickly away. ‘I wish. We’re just—Andy’s really busy, and he’s been working stupid hours, and …’
‘And?’ Daisy prompted gently, and the floodgates opened.
‘They asked him to work on Sunday and he said yes, but he’d promised the kids he’d do something with them and I just flipped.’
‘Everyone needs a good row now and then,’ Daisy said pragmatically.
‘But it wasn’t a good row,’ she said, remembering the bitterness, the acrimony, the stubborn thrust of his jaw. ‘That would have been fine. This—this was an awful row, and I told him to go. I thought—I was just calling his bluff, but he went. He just—went. And I let him go, Daisy,’ she said, swiping at her nose because it was suddenly running and her eyes were welling and there was a sob just itching to get out if she’d only let it.
‘Oh, Lucy …’
Daisy wrapped her hand in hers and squeezed, and the simple gesture pushed Lucy over the brink. She felt the tears well over and splash down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop them, and with a muffled murmur Daisy hugged her gently and let her cry, then shoved a tissue in her hand and let her talk.
‘He just doesn’t seem the same. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel as if I don’t know him any more. He’s not who he was—and it’s since Lottie. I thought he wanted another baby, but ever since she was born he’s been really strange—distant, distracted, as if we aren’t really there half the time. And he’s got the most amazing sense of humour normally. He’s so funny, so sharp, and that’s just gone. It’s like living with a stranger.’
‘Ben said the ED’s been bedlam since James went on holiday, and I gather the maternity leave locum’s been a bit flaky.’
‘Flaky? Try downright skiving. She’s never there. That’s why I wasn’t at book club on Friday night. And instead of saying they should shut the department and send everyone to another ED, Andy just takes another shift, and then another one, and they walk all over him, because he can’t just let people down, but the kids—’
She broke off, biting her lip, and Daisy sighed and topped up her coffee. ‘Tough choices.’
‘Impossible,’ she went on. ‘The nearest ED is miles away, and time is so important, but so is family. You’re a doctor, you know what it’s like, the hypocritical oath that tells you to put everyone before your own, so we always seem to come last.’
‘Oh, tell me about it. I’ve threatened to kill Ben before now, but I’m just as bad. We were in Theatre delivering some twins the night before our wedding, and I really wonder what would have happened if they’d needed us on our wedding night.’
Lucy smiled wryly. ‘I do understand what it’s like for him. I know how it is, but—I just feel, if I don’t fight for our marriage, then who will? Not him, he didn’t even realise it’s going down the pan. And this stupid, stupid course he’s taken on—really, I could kill him for that, because of all the unnecessary things …’
‘What’s it on?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Something to do with stabilising patients with massive trauma—juggling acts, really. He gave me an assignment to proof-read the other week and I couldn’t understand a word of it. And I’m a doctor.’
Daisy tipped her head on one side thoughtfully. ‘Is he depressed?’
‘Daisy, I have no idea. I don’t think he’s got time to be depressed, but he’s exhausted, I know that, and Lottie’s not going through the night properly yet, and I’m starting work again in two weeks, and I …’
‘You’re at your wits’ end,’ Daisy filled in gently. ‘I can understand that. When’s the course finish?’
‘The exam’s on Friday week, and then it’s done. And James is back, and they had a new locum yesterday, Andy said, so maybe it’ll sort itself out, once the pressure’s off and we can all think straight. Well, that’s what I’m hoping,’