‘Yet!’ Jessie chortled.
‘Mary was the size of a house with Jessie early on, but she kept her figure until quite late on with you. You’ll probably be the same with the first,’ Bill recalled, frowning at his younger daughter as she stuffed another handful of bite-size delicacies into her mouth. ‘You’ll spoil your meal.’
They all assumed!
Of course they all assumed he
knew—why wouldn’t they? If Jo had been planning how to share this news with Liam, which she hadn’t, this particular route wouldn’t have been favourite! It was something she had been going to get around to eventually, of course, but not just yet. She had been a bit hazy about when the
right
time might be. One thing she knew for certain: it wasn’t now! Liam had taken an involuntary step away from her and his gaze inevitably dropped to her waist, which was still almost as trim as it had been.
‘Good God,’ he said in a strangled voice, ‘you’re pregnant!’
‘He doesn’t know,’ Jessie’s youthful voice piped up. ‘I thought you two told each other everything.’
‘Not everything, it would seem,’ Liam said grimly.
‘Well, now you know,’ Jo said casually. He wouldn’t necessarily assume. . .
She saw immediately that this faint hope had been misplaced. Also, her casual tone hadn’t gone down well at all; the white line around his compressed lips was a dead give-away.
‘Last but not least.’ His voice sounded strangely unfamiliar to Jo.
‘Can I get you a drink, Bill? I know you’re off duty, but I was hoping you’d look in on the foal before dinner,’ Pat Rafferty asked, blissfully ignorant of the storm clouds gathering. ‘Girls, what can I get you?’
‘Gin and tonic,’ said the imperturbable Jessie.
‘Give her a Coke, Pat,’ Bill interjected.
‘Worth a try.’ Jessie was philosophical.
‘How
could
you, Jo?’ Liam’s raw, throbbing words ripped through the normality of casual chatter.
Suddenly the whole room was looking from her to Liam with startled incomprehension. ‘I don’t want to talk about it now.’
Please no
scene.
He cruelly ignored the silent plea in her eyes. Why hadn’t she ever noticed how hard and yes—
cruel
his expression could be? There was something bordering on the austere in the hard-angled planes and contours of his face. She began to shiver and couldn’t stop—being intimidated by Liam of all people seemed a little crazy.
‘Come on, now, lad, I can see it’s a bit of a shock, but it’s not really any of our concern, is it?’ Pat said, placing a restraining hand on his son’s arm.
Liam’s eyes only left her face long enough to flicker briefly in his father’s direction. ‘I’d say my child is my concern, wouldn’t you?’
The instant’s silence was deafening and then suddenly everyone began talking at once.
‘I’m going to be a grandmother again,’ Maggie said faintly, sinking into a chair.
Jessie’s eyes were sparkling with interest. ‘I knew they shared
everything
but I didn’t know they shared
that
too!’ she whooped. ‘It gives a whole new meaning to “joined at the hip”.’
‘Jessica! That’s enough,’ her father barked.
‘Is this true, Liam?’ Pat asked slowly, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Ask Jo,’ Liam replied, his ice-blue eyes daring her to contradict him.
‘I’ll never forgive you for this as long as I live!’ she declared passionately.
‘That might not be very long,’ he shot back equally grimly.
Maggie surged to her feet and clapped her hands together. ‘I’m so happy,’ she declared, tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I always knew you two were meant for each other.’ She enfolded Jo in a warm embrace. ‘You two, at last. A grandmother, I can’t believe it.’
‘I’m having some difficulty adapting to it myself, Mother.’ He shot Jo a baleful look over Maggie’s shoulder.
Maggie released Jo only to clasp her son to her maternal bosom. ‘When are you getting married?’ she sniffed.
‘Married?’
Riding on the crest of his righteous anger, this question brought Liam down to earth with a bang, and Jo could hear the crash. The hypocritical pig, she fumed.
‘Yes, Liam,’ she asked innocently, ‘when
are
you going to make an honest woman of me?’
‘A wedding!’ Jessie squeaked, forgetting for a moment her teenage cool and general lack of interest. ‘Can I be bridesmaid?’
‘I think Jo and I need to discuss these things in private.’
‘Oh, yes, you’re very big on private now, aren’t you? Pity you didn’t think of that earlier. We don’t need to discuss anything, Liam Rafferty, because I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!’ she concluded with enough passion to compensate for lack of originality. ‘This is
my
baby. I’m sorry, Aunt Maggie,’ she said as the older woman burst into tears again. ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ she shouted, turning on Liam. ‘It’s all your fault!’
‘Don’t think I’m not aware of that fact.’
Jo’s head came up with a snap. ‘I knew it!’ she said with grim satisfaction. ‘I just
knew
you’d say that. Well, let me tell you, Liam, the last thing I need at the moment is a speech about your shortcomings. I’m not interested in talking about liability or blame. I want this baby, not because it’s my responsibility, but because. . . because I love it!’ She clamped her hand over her trembling lips as her shaking voice became totally suspended by tears.
‘Oh, God, Jo.’ The anger died from Liam’s face leaving a conflict of emotions in its place. ‘Can we use the study, Dad?’
‘Of course, son. Just you go gently, or you’ll have me to answer to,’ Pat rumbled stiffly.
Anger flashed in his son’s eyes. ‘What do you think I am?’ Pat lifted one eloquent eyebrow and Liam grated his teeth. ‘I get the message. Will you talk to me, Jo?’
Her chin came up to a defiant angle and she glared at him through a sheen of unshed tears. ‘If I must,’ she muttered ungraciously.
Liam walked straight to the bureau in the study and reached for the half-empty bottle of his father’s favourite malt. ‘Want one?’ he asked. He paused, glass mid-air. ‘I forgot. . . ’ His eyes touched her middle and he visibly flinched.
‘Are you going to get drunk?’
‘It hadn’t occurred to me, but now you mention it. . . ’
‘Well, if you’re going to be flippant,’ she snapped defensively.
‘Flippant,’ he said, draining the shallow layer of amber liquid on the bottom of the glass, ‘is the last thing I feel. Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Jo? You wrote to me about everything else: work, the new wallpaper in your bathroom, your latest cookery class. I suppose it didn’t occur to you I might be interested to learn I’m about to be a father.’
She winced at the sarcasm in his voice. ‘You seem very sure it’s yours. Sure enough to announce it to our joint families,’ she reminded him bitterly.
There was a slash of colour across the slope of his sharply defined cheek-bones as he spoke. ‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ he acknowledged reluctantly, ‘but to say it was a shock might be the understatement of the century. As for it not being mine, the only other candidate I know of is Justin Wood, and the man isn’t capable of making that sort of mistake. He’s got the spontaneity of a computer.’
His sneering evaluation made her blood boil. ‘Pardon me if I don’t share your disdain for caution under the circumstances.’
Liam’s head went back as though she’d struck him. ‘I don’t make a habit of acting so recklessly,’ he grated from between clenched teeth.
Jo gave a sigh; this was getting them nowhere. ‘I know that, Liam,’ she said, wiping the back of her hand across her brow and feeling the light sheen of perspiration there. ‘Will you stop pacing? It’s making me dizzy.’
He was acting like a caged animal and that was probably what he felt like. Maybe one day Liam would reach the point in his life when he wanted to think about families and stability, but this wasn’t that point. I don’t want an unwilling captive, Liam, she wanted to say.
‘I’m the father.’ His blue eyes didn’t waver from hers as he sat down beside her on the old leather chesterfield.
She nodded solemnly and willed the emotional tears not to fall. ‘Don’t do that,’ she pleaded, wincing as the flexed joints of his interlocked fingers snapped. He looked at her blankly. ‘You’ll get arthritis.’ She reached out and touched his hand.
A faint movement of his lips disturbed the solemnity of his expression as he regarded her small hand against his darker skin. ‘Sounds like an old wives’ tale rather than scientific fact to me, Jo.’
‘Don’t knock old wives, they knew a thing or two.’ He turned his hands and her own were sandwiched between his. She looked up, startled. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Liam.’ The words came pouring out. ‘I wanted to, but it’s not the sort of thing you can add as a postscript to a letter, is it?’ Her eyes begged his understanding of the situation she’d found herself in. ‘What could you have done?
There’s no way I would have had an abortion. Whichever way you look at it this is my problem, not yours.’
Her first instinct had been to call him. All she’d wanted was his arms around her, his telling her it would be all right, as he’d done innumerable times at crisis points in the past. It hadn’t really mattered that it wouldn’t be true this time. Liam was the person she
always
ran to when she was in trouble. It had taken a lot of self-control not to pick up the phone or, better still, catch the first plane.
The transitory softening of Liam’s features was replaced by hard anger as she announced her view of the situation. ‘And do you think I’d have asked you to have an abortion? Is that the sort of man you think I am, Jo?’ He shook his head slowly in disbelief.
‘It was never an option so it doesn’t really matter what I think,’ she faltered under the weight of his anger.
‘It sure as hell matters to me!’
‘Liam, you’re hurting me.’
Liam looked down and was surprised to see her small, delicate hand still ruthlessly crushed between his fingers. ‘Sorry.’ He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling steeply, as he released her. ‘I won’t let you shut me out, Jo.’
‘Whatever made you think I’d try?’ she responded immediately. ‘Of course this is your child, and he or she will know it, and know you, Liam. My friendship with you has always been one of the most important things in my life,’ she said, her voice husky with emotion. ‘But we have to be practical. We didn’t plan this. You didn’t
want
to become a father, at least not to
my
child.’ The pain was sharp, and it went surprisingly deep, but she continued in a composed voice.
‘I know we can’t pretend it didn’t happen any more, but equally we can’t pretend we’re suddenly in love.’ She gave
a sad smile. ‘Even if it would make your mother a deliriously happy woman. I’m not trying to sideline you at all, Liam, only it’s not
your
body that’s involved in all this.’ She placed a protective hand over her belly. ‘There’s a limit to what you can do.’
Despite all these flawlessly logical arguments, Liam found himself unexpectedly assailed by a nagging sense of dissatisfaction. ‘You can’t do it all alone.’
Jo shrugged. ‘People do, and with a lot less family support than I have.’
‘What about after the. . . after the. . . ?’
‘Birth?’ she suggested. She watched him shake his head as though the idea still seemed incredible to him. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said kindly, ‘you’ll get used to the idea.’ Liam shot her a strange look. ‘I did,’ she continued. ‘I’m healthy and there’s no reason I can’t work right up to the last minute. Afterwards I’ve arranged to share a nanny—a three-way split, really, with friends of mine.’
‘You’ve really got this all worked out, haven’t you?’ He was looking at her as if he’d never actually seen her before.
‘Burying my head in the sand was never an option, Liam.’
‘Didn’t it occur to you I might want to help with the baby, afterwards?’
‘
You
?’ Laughter was a welcome release really from all the tension. ‘S. . . sorry—’ she hiccoughed ‘—we’ve got to be realistic here, Liam. Your lifestyle isn’t exactly conducive to child-rearing. You can’t just transport a baby around like hand baggage; there’s a bit more to it than that.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
‘All right, there’s no need to get huffy. One day you’ll
meet someone you’ll
want
to have a baby with. Maybe I will too.’ It could be that paragon did exist somewhere.
‘You’ve become an expert on the subject suddenly, then?’ he snarled rather unpleasantly.
‘I’ve read a lot.’
‘Ah,
read
,’ he drawled sarcastically. ‘My sister had read a lot,’ he recalled. ‘She threw her library in the bin when Liam was six months. Babies trash plans.’
Trust him to zero in on her unspoken doubts and fears. ‘I’m flexible.’
‘Flexible enough to hold down a job that gives you the social life of a nun?’ he enquired sceptically. ‘Isn’t it this year they promised you a partnership? Wasn’t that why you lost the inestimable Justin? You couldn’t spare enough time to polish his ego, how the hell are you going to look after a baby?’