Accidental Baby

‘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.