Hot Single Docs: London's Calling: 200 Harley Street: The Proud Italian / 200 Harley Street: American Surgeon in London / 200 Harley Street: The Soldier Prince. Lynne Marshall
fingers found a tangled part of his hair but he shoved them through the obstruction, welcoming the pain. ‘Can we ever get past this? What do we do now?’
‘I hope we can get past this.’ But Abbie’s smile was shaky. Unsure? ‘And now? I think we should go and spend some time with our daughter.’
It was Abbie who picked up the empty coffee cups and found a rubbish bin to put them in. She put on the soft cardigan she’d been carrying because there were a few clouds in the sky now and when the sunlight dimmed, the temperature dropped noticeably. The picnic feel to the day was gone. The date was over. They walked out of the Secret Garden and back through the main park in silence but it was a different kind of silence from the one when they’d first entered the park together.
Things were out in the open. Yes, their marriage was still on the line but it seemed that they both wanted to repair it, at least. Surely that was a good thing?
‘Maybe, one day soon,’ he said, ‘we’ll be able to bring Ella to the park. To show her the Secret Garden.’
‘I hope so,’ Abbie responded. ‘And we could take her to the zoo.’
‘To see the monkeys.’ The unenthusiastic tone made them both look at each other. And then they both smiled.
She understood. And if they did go to the zoo, she would know that it was a generous act on his part because those monkeys drove him pazzo.
He could feel his heart lift. The connection was there. And the love. Surely it was going to be possible to build a bridge over the troubled waters that still lay between them?
It had to be possible, Rafael decided as they went through the ornate iron gates and he raised his arm to flag down a taxi.
It was as simple as that, really.
GIFTS WERE STARTING to pile up in Ella’s room.
While the big pink bear was the frontrunner in the popularity stakes, everybody who looked after Ella was enjoying the growing stack of bright picture books and the toys, especially the board with the animal pictures and the buttons that made the appropriate noise for the animal when Ella pushed it. Her attempts to imitate the noises made them all laugh.
And Rafael had a new audience on which to try out his own animal noises.
‘This is a lion, Ella. Rrrroahhh... You’ll hear them when we take you to the zoo one day. You might even hear them at home. And this is a monkey. Eeek, eeek, eeek.’
The noises made both Ella and Abbie grin but they had yet to hear their little girl giggle again. What would it take?
‘You don’t have to bring a present every time you come, Rafe. You’re spoiling her.’
‘I want her to look forward to seeing me.’ But Rafael put the bag he was carrying today on the floor and leaned on the edge of the cot, watching as Abbie caught the small, waving arms and pushed them gently into the sleeves of her sleep suit.
‘Mum-mum-mum,’ Ella crowed.
‘That’s me.’ Abbie snapped some fastenings closed. ‘Mama. Can you say papa?’
Ella stared up at her, her eyes round.
‘Papa?’ she repeated encouragingly.
Ella grinned. ‘Mum-mum-mum.’
‘I think that’s the only word she knows.’ Rafael was also smiling but Abbie could sense his disappointment. She tried to distract him.
‘She’s pretty good at “no.” You should have heard her at lunchtime when I tried to persuade her to eat some carrots.’
‘She doesn’t like carrots?’
‘Not yet. Same with pumpkin.’
‘Maybe it’s the colour she doesn’t like.’
‘Hmm... You could be right.’ Abbie smiled and caught Rafael’s gaze. ‘It does clash with pink, doesn’t it?’
His answering smile was swift and, for a heartbeat, things felt good. There were more of these moments now, when it felt like there was a real connection between them again. The time they’d spent in the park together had been a good starting point but, even with more time with both of them here with Ella and more moments when they were in tune with each other, that distance between them didn’t appear to be shrinking.
Ella was the driving force behind Abbie’s motivation for trying to repair her marriage. She desperately wanted her daughter to grow up with a loving father in her life. For them all to make a real family. But the connection had to there between her parents, too. It had to be more than physical and it had to be strong enough to last the distance. While they were reaching out tentatively to see if they could find and build on that kind of connection, sadly it was Ella who was making things harder.
Oh, she loved the presents. And she loved seeing her daddy and having a cuddle. As long as she wasn’t tired. Or sore. Or hungry. Or had a dirty nappy or anything else that was making life a little less joyful. At those times, she only wanted Abbie.
Mum-mum-mum.
As the days passed it was obvious that Rafael was feeling excluded. It wasn’t just an Italian’s pride that was being dented. Any father would feel disheartened by the preference that Ella made crystal clear when it was needed. And it wasn’t something that Abbie could fix, was it? Rafael hadn’t been there for such a long time. A quarter of Ella’s life. Was it any wonder that the baby saw him as a visitor in her life? That she expected her mother to provide everything from food to comfort?
Abbie glanced at her watch. Any minute now and the nurse would arrive with Ella’s night-time bottle. And Rafael was here. She should let him feed her.
Maybe it was the biggest olive branch she could offer?
She couldn’t put it into words but when she picked Ella up and offered her to Rafe as the nurse came in with the bottle of warm milk, she could see that he understood how significant this was. The way his gaze held hers with a flash of surprise and then gratitude and then a flood of warmth that felt like pure love was enough to bring a huge lump to her throat.
Rafael sat down in the armchair with Ella in his arms. She was happy enough to lie there until she caught sight of the bottle. The hungry whimper was followed by her head craning so far sideways Abbie feared for her neck.
‘Mum-mum-mum...’ Small arms were reaching out for her.
Rafael chased her mouth with the teat of the bottle but Ella was having none of it. She arched her body into a stiff bow and her face went an alarming shade of red.
Abbie had to force herself not to scoop Ella out of her father’s arms. ‘Try again,’ she said above the noise Ella was starting to make. ‘She’ll get used to the idea of you feeding her in a minute.’
But Rafael shook his head. ‘I can’t bear to hear her this unhappy. You do it, Abbie.’ He stood up and all but shoved Ella into her arms.
It felt like defeat. Worse, even when Ella settled and started sucking hungrily, the joy of doing this was somehow diminished. Abbie could feel Rafael’s gaze on her, and she could feel his despair. And there seemed to be something accusing in the gaze Ella had fixed on her, too. She felt like the meat in a sandwich. All she was trying to do was stick the layers back together. Why was it so difficult?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly to Rafael.
He gave one of those eloquent shrugs. ‘It’s not your fault. Fiorella is a baby. All she knows is what she wants to make her happy.’
But Abbie knew what she wanted to make her happy, too. And it seemed as far away as ever.
‘I...um...thought I might come home tomorrow. After work.’
Rafael