A Family At Last. Carol Marinelli

both Diego and Megan, Izzy had heard from another mother, had stayed till the end.

      ‘I’ve been better,’ Megan admitted. ‘All I put that baby through and the parents too—and for what?’

      ‘Don’t,’ Izzy said, because they’d had these conversations before. Megan set impossible standards for herself, wanted to save each and every baby, and took it right to her heart when nature chose otherwise. ‘Look at Genevieve!’ Izzy said.

      ‘I know.’ Megan blew out a breath. ‘This really got to me, though, and Diego—he doesn’t normally get upset, but I guess finding out his dad’s so sick…’ Her voice trailed off, realising she was being indiscreet. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

      ‘I’m not going to tell him.’ Izzy felt her throat tighten. It was such a tightrope—they were all friends, all colleagues, all different things to each other. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

      Megan screwed her eyes closed. ‘Izzy, please don’t.’

      ‘Just because I’ve had a baby it doesn’t mean my brain’s softened. Nobody would tell me anything about Toby, forgetting the fact I delivered him, and now I’m not supposed to be told Diego’s father’s sick. I knew there was something wrong last night.’

      ‘He probably doesn’t want to worry you.’

      ‘Well, I am worried,’ Izzy said. ‘Is it bad?’

      Reluctantly Megan nodded but no more information was forthcoming and Izzy sat quietly for a moment with her thoughts. ‘I’ve had an offer on the house,’ Izzy said, ‘but they want a quick settlement. Thirty days.’

      ‘Ouch!’ Megan said. ‘Will you be able to find somewhere?’

      ‘Probably.’

      ‘What about your mum’s?’ Megan managed a smile at Izzy’s reaction. ‘Okay, bad idea.’

      ‘I think I should be concentrating on Tilia, not trying to find somewhere to live.’

      ‘There’s always Diego’s,’ Megan teased, adding when she saw Izzy close her eyes, ‘I was joking—I know it’s way too soon to even be thinking—’

      ‘But I do,’ Izzy admitted, and Megan’s eyes widened.

      ‘You hardly know each other.’

      ‘I know that.’ Izzy nodded. ‘I can’t stand being in the house, but I think it’s best for now…’ She was trying to be practical, logical, sensible. ‘I don’t want to force any decisions on us.’ She looked at her friend. ‘I’m trying to hold onto my heart here. I’m trying to just be in the now with him, but practically the day I met him I was knocked sideways. I felt it, this connection, this chemistry.’ She looked at Megan, who was frowning. ‘Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?’

      ‘No.’ Megan swallowed and then her voice was urgent. ‘Don’t sell your house.’ Megan, who normally was happy to sit and just listen, was practically hopping in her seat to give advice. ‘Izzy, Diego’s lovely and everything…’ She was struggling to give the right advice, tempted to tell Izzy to turn tail and run because she’d felt that way once too and look where it had left her. Love had swept in for Megan and left a trail of devastation that all these years on she was still struggling to come to terms with—pain so real that she still woke some nights in tears, still lived with the consequences and would till the day she left the earth. ‘Be careful, Izzy,’ Megan said, even if wasn’t the advice Izzy wanted. ‘Maybe you should have some time on your own. At least, don’t rush into anything with Diego—you’ve got Tilia to think of. Diego’s father’s sick, he could just up and go to Spain…’ And then Megan stopped herself, saw Izzy’s stunned expression and realised she had been too harsh, realised perhaps she was talking more about herself than her friend.

      ‘Izzy, don’t listen to me,’ Megan begged. ‘Who am I to give advice? I haven’t been in a relationship in ages, I’m married to my career.’ Megan swallowed. ‘And I don’t have a child. I’m the last person to tell you what you should be doing. Maybe speak to Jess…’ She was close to tears and feeling wretched. The last thing Megan had wanted to do was project her own bitterness onto Izzy, especially at such a vulnerable time, but the last few weeks had been hell for Megan—sheer hell. Since Josh had come to work at St Piran’s she was struggling to even think straight. ‘Maybe you should talk to Jess,’ Megan said again as her pager went off, summoning her to the children’s ward. She gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. ‘You’ll make the right choice.’ She turned to leave, but there he was, right there in front of her.

      ‘Megan…’ Josh said. ‘Did you get my message?’

      She went to walk on, but Josh was insistent.

      ‘Megan, we need to talk—there are things we need to discuss.’ He caught her wrist and Megan looked at his hand around hers, their first physical contact in years, and she couldn’t stand it because it was there, the chemistry, the reaction, her skin leaping at the memory of him, and it terrified her—it truly terrified her. She shook him off.

      ‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ Megan said.

      ‘There’s plenty,’ Josh insisted, and she felt herself waver, because there was so much to discuss but, worse, she knew that he felt her waver, knew they were still in sync. ‘Not here,’ Josh said, because heads in the corridor were turning.

      Megan grappled for control of her mind, held onto the pain he had caused as if it were a liferaft, because if she forgot for a moment she would sink back into his charm.

      And she remembered more, enough for a sneer to curl her lips.

      Then she let herself remember just a little bit more, enough to force harsh words from her lips.

      ‘Where, then, Josh?’ Megan spat. ‘Where should we meet?’ She watched as he ran a tongue over his lips, knew then he hadn’t thought this out, perhaps hadn’t expected her to agree. ‘There’s a nice restaurant on the foreshore,’ she sneered. ‘Oh, but we might be seen!’ she jeered. ‘How about Penhally, or is that too close? Maybe you could pop over to mine…’ She was blind with rage now, shaking just to stop herself from shouting. ‘You’re married, Josh, so, no, we can’t meet. You’re a married man.’ If she said it again, maybe if she said it enough times, she would come to accept it. ‘Which means there is absolutely nothing to discuss.’