Page 63 of One Day at a Time

‘Well, nobody wins the Wotsits,’ Candy announced, her face bursting with pride as she came over to the side of Sharon’s bed, just minutes after the midwife had given birth to little Ace Byrne. Sharon thought that his name made him sound like a Hollywood superstar, and he’d made a great start, because with a birth time of two minutes past midnight, he’d definitely been one of the first babies to be born in Scotland in the new year. He’d be in all the papers tomorrow morning.

Sharon reached over and gazed at her tiny son, in the incubator next to her bed. He was absolutely fine, and his vitals were strong, but he was six weeks premature, so they were keeping him in the incubator for a couple of days just to monitor him. Candy would be taking him up to the Neonatal Ward soon, but Sharon just wanted him to hear her voice for a little longer.

Candy stuck a thermometer in Sharon’s ear. ‘I hate to burst this bubble of bliss, pal, but what do you want me to do aboutdaddy dearest? He keeps coming up and down the corridor, because his wife is going to be a while yet.’

Sharon closed her eyes, and tried to suppress the groan as the post-birth hormones of euphoria fought against the dread of knowing that she was going to have to deal with him. Their affair had been brief. He’d told her he was separated from his wife and she’d believed him, at first. But later, she’d asked a mutual acquaintance if he was married and been told that he definitely was. That’s why she’d never told him about the baby. She wanted and needed nothing from him and she felt heartbroken that she’d been duped into a situation that could hurt another woman.

That had been confirmed tonight when he’d pitched up here with his wife, who was about to give birth at any minute. The irony was that she’d now learned they’d taken Candy’s antenatal class, the same one that Sharon would have led, if she hadn’t been pregnant. There must have been so many times over the last few months that they’d come close to bumping into each other here, and yet they never had.

For all the heartache, though, she couldn’t regret meeting him, because they’d had one failed condom, and the consequences of that was now lying in the glass box next to her bed, his tiny fingers curled around hers.

She knew, though, that the father at least deserved a conversation.

‘You’d better let him come in.’

‘Do you want me to stay?’ Candy asked, but Sharon shook her head.

‘No, it’s fine. It’s going like a fair out there, and in case you haven’t noticed, you’re now an extra midwife down.’

Sharon inhaled, exhaled, gently stroked her son’s fingers to give her strength as her child’s father came towards her.

‘Hi. I’m not… I’m not sure what to say. Congratulations?’ he began, as he stared at the tiny figure in the cot. He was usually so cool, so confident. It was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place. But now, Sharon thought she’d never seen him so rattled.

‘Thank you. And… well, to you to, I guess. This is Ace.’

‘And he’s mine?’

She nodded, unoffended. It was a completely understandable question given the circumstances. ‘He is.’

He didn’t exclaim. Didn’t panic. Didn’t swear. He just ran his fingers through his hair as he nodded.

‘And are you okay? Is he good? The incubator…’

‘He’s a little premature, but he’s going to be fine. We both are.’

He took that in.

‘I’d like to come back, if that’s okay. We obviously need to talk about this. But right now, I need to go and check on my wife.’

* * *

Sheena

12.43 a.m.

How many times was Gregor going to go out to that water fountain? If he said something about keeping himself hydrated one more time, Sheena gave herself permission to swear. Actually, to her absolute mortification, she’d already done plenty of swearing in the last hour. She just hoped that her beautiful boy, Flynn Gregor Carswell, hadn’t been listening.

His name had come from the Irish side of her heritage, her mum’s side. Even though her mum had lived in Scotland all her life, Sheena remembered childhood trips to Ireland to visit family there and vice versa. There had been no contact with Irishrelations for years, and almost all of them had passed now, but she felt it only fitting that she honour them by connecting them to her son.

Her son. As she stared at him now, nuzzled into her chest, she was absolutely awestruck. She’d only had this feeling once before in her life and now she was beyond grateful to be having it again. This time, she wasn’t sixteen. She hadn’t given in to her family’s demand that she have someone else raise her baby. This time, she was going to be his mum, and she was going to savour every single day they had together. She couldn’t make up for what happened last time, but she was going to try. This baby was both breaking her heart and healing it, and all she could do was try to forgive herself for last time and be the best mum she could be from now on.

‘I’m your mama,’ she whispered to him. ‘And you’re going to have the best life, I promise. And your dad… well, he’s out there hydrating because he’s a bit of a fitness freak, but he’s a good man, Flynn. You’re going to love him.’

As if summoned by her mention of him, Gregor chose that exact moment to come back into the room, but it was a different Gregor from the one that had left. That Gregor had been joyous and bursting with happiness after watching his child come into the world. This one was pale, and if Sheena had to describe his demeanour, she’d say he was shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted.

‘Gregor, what’s wrong. What is it?’ She felt panic begin to rise. It wasn’t the baby. Flynn was nestled to her chest and fast asleep so it couldn’t be that.

‘I… eh, I met someone out in the corridor. The last person I expected to see, to be honest, and it’s given me a bit of a shock. I need you to take a breath, Sheena. Because this might be difficult…’