Healed By The Midwife's Kiss. Fiona McArthur
tangled if he didn’t tie it back but he couldn’t bring himself to get it cut. His gorgeous little buttercup with her fine-spun headache of hair.
‘Mum, Mum, Mum,’ Piper chirped.
The last thing he needed to hear at this moment. ‘Oh, baby, don’t. Please.’
She squirmed and the baby voice drifted up to him. Uncertain. ‘Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad?’
Pull yourself together. He lifted his head and looked into the soft dimpled face so close to his. ‘Yes. Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.’ He carried her into the waves to dangle her feet and she wriggled happily. He concentrated on his fingers holding her as he swept her ankles through the waves and the foam ran up her knees as she squealed in delight. Guilt swamped him all over again. ‘You can say Mum, Mum, Mum any time, my darling. Of course you can. Daddy’s being silly.’ Stupid!
Piper gurgled with laughter. ‘Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.’ Finn could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces again and any lingering thoughts of Catrina the midwife washed into the sea with the grains of sand stuck to Piper’s feet.
Trina
THE EARLY-MORNING SUNBEAM poked Trina in the eye with an unfamiliar exuberance and she groaned and threw her hand up to cover her face. Who left the curtains open? Only one answer to that. The twinge of morning memory and loss made her breath hitch and she forced herself to breathe calmly.
Saturday morning. Scuba lesson. She groaned again and all the doubts and fears from last week came rushing back to twist her stomach. Why had she said she wanted to do this again? Why the need to push herself to extremes she didn’t feel comfortable with?
She flung the bedclothes back and swung her legs. The floor was warmed a little under her feet from the sun. That too seemed different.
Okay. Why was she fighting this? This was a new chapter in her life. Same book. She wasn’t removing any of the pages—just going forward.
She squinted at the morning beams painting the inside of her one-room croft in golden stripes and decided they were quite lovely. Not worth groaning about at all.
She padded across to the uncurtained double doors looking out over the ocean and decided the light streaming in shone still a little too bright until she’d made an Earl Grey to start the day and turned her back.
As she busied herself in the tiny kitchen nook, she pondered on yesterday and the advances she’d made towards holding a sensible conversation with an eligible male. Though technically she guessed he wasn’t eligible. But probably safe to practise on, as long as he was okay with it.
Not that she had any long-term intentions but she’d done all right. Beaten the bogeyman, and so had he. That made it a little easier. And no doubt different for him, as his wife had chosen to go. How on earth could a woman leave her baby? And why would she leave Finlay? That too was a teensy worry.
Trina thought back to where she’d been a year ago. Still in a black fog with a bright shiny mask on her face for work.
She didn’t believe that time healed all wounds, but maybe it scabbed over some of the deeper lacerations. The problem with losing your true love was they were never really gone, always hovering, a comfort, and an ache that flared into pain that burned right through you.
Boy, did she recognise the symptoms of reluctantly dipping a toe into the real world after the misty haze of deep grief. There were some aspects of her loss of Ed that would never disappear but in other ways she could, and would, live a happy life. She didn’t think that Finlay Foley had reached that stage yet. Which was a tiny shame.
But she’d better get on and prepare for her scuba lesson. She’d eat when she came back.
By the time Trina left her croft on the cliff she knew she’d be late if she didn’t hurry and her steps skipped as she descended to the beach with her towel and specially fitted snorkelling mask. That was one good thing about living right on the beach—she didn’t need to carry much because home was always a few steps away.
The path stopped at the sand and Trina began walking quickly around the headland. She’d glanced once towards the curve of the bay but no Finlay and Piper there, no sign of him, so tall and broad and unmistakable, so no golden-haired Piper on his back either, and fancifully it felt strange to be hurrying away without seeing them.
She forced herself to look forward again and concentrated on the scuba lessons she’d learnt last week from old Tom, running through the procedures.
‘Nice even breathing through the mouthpiece; no holding your breath. This is how to replace a regulator in your mouth if it gets knocked out. This is how to control the speed of your ascent and descent by letting air in and out via the buoyancy control, so your ears don’t hurt. Nothing to be nervous about. We’ll go as slow as you need.’
Two hours later as she walked home in a much more desultory fashion a glow of pride warmed her as she remembered old Tom’s quiet pleasure in her. ‘You’re a natural,’ he’d told her.
A natural scuba diver? Who would have known? But today he’d taken her to the little island just off the beach and they’d dived slowly around the tiny inlets and rocks and seen colourful fish, delicate submarine plant life that swayed with the rhythm of the ocean, once a small stingray and one slightly larger shark, and it had all been Technicolor brilliant. Exciting. And, to her absolute delight, she’d loved it.
Her mind danced with snapshots of the morning and she didn’t see the man and little girl sitting in a shallow rock pool under the cliff until she was almost upon them.
‘Oh. You. Hello,’ she stammered as she was jerked out of her happy reveries.
‘Good morning, Catrina,’ Finlay said. Though how on earth he could remain nonchalant while sitting in a sandy-bottom indent in the rock where the water barely covered his outstretched legs, she had no idea. ‘You look very pleased with yourself.’
She regarded them. She liked the way they looked—so calm and happy, Piper dressed in her frilly pink swimsuit that covered her arms and legs. And she liked the way he called her Catrina. Ed had always called her Trina and she wasn’t ready for another man to shorten her name. ‘Good morning to you, Finlay.’
‘Finn. Please. I’m usually Finn. Don’t know why I was so formal yesterday.’
‘Finn.’ She nodded and smiled down at Piper. ‘Hello, Piper. What can you see in the rock pool?’
The little girl turned her big green eyes back to the water. Pointed one plump finger. ‘Fiss,’ Piper said and Finn’s eyes widened.
His mouth opened and closed just like the word his daughter had almost mouthed.
‘She said fish!’ His eyes were alight with wonder and the huge smile on his face made Trina want to hug him to celebrate the moment of pure joy untinged by bitterness. ‘I can’t believe she said fish.’
‘Clever girl,’ Trina said and battled not to laugh out loud. She’d thought it had been more like a mumbled fiss. But she was sure her father knew better. Her mouth struggled to remain serious. In the end she giggled. Giggled? Again? What the heck?
She’d never been a giggler but this guy made her smiles turn into noises she cringed at.
To hide her idiotic response she said, ‘I’ve seen fish too, Piper.’
Finn glanced at her mask. ‘You’ve been snorkelling?’
Trina spread her arms and said with solemn pride, almost dramatically, ‘I have been scuba diving.’
‘Have you? Go you. I used to love to scuba.’ He glanced around. ‘Would you like to join us in our pool? There’s no lifeguard except me but if you promise not to run or dive we’ll let you share.’
Trina scanned the area too.