A Family Worth Waiting For. Josie Metcalfe

A Family Worth Waiting For - Josie Metcalfe


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green eyes sparkling. ‘I didn’t make the rules.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’re right. But one day, Campbell … one day I hope that we’ll be able to offer all kinds of births here.’

      ‘Amen to that,’ he said, hand on his heart.

      ‘Goodness, I can hear your cronies having apoplexy as we speak.’

      He laughed heartily and his red-blonde hair flopped back. ‘C’mon, Claire. Even you’ve got to admit that breech presentation is potentially much more complicated.’

      ‘Potentially, sure. But you and I both know that Martin and his pals automatically think breech equals C-section.’

      ‘You think trial of labour first?’

      ‘Depends on the woman and the presenting part. There are too many variables. You can’t treat them all the same, as Martin and co do.’

      ‘They’re just scared, Claire. Haven’t you ever been scared?’

      His question startled her. It was like he had seen right into her soul. Had she? About one thousand per cent more than anyone could know. She’d been scared for the last ten years.

      ‘We … we’re … not talking about me,’ she stuttered. His astuteness was unsettling.

      ‘Right.’ He grinned. ‘Shame … I’d much rather talk about you.’

      ‘Me?’

      ‘Us, actually.’ Campbell watched as fear and confusion reflected briefly in her eyes before she masked them behind a shutter of wariness.

      ‘Campbell.’ She rolled her eyes and took a step away from him. She couldn’t think when he was too close. ‘I thought you’d given up.’

      ‘Nope. Just haven’t been able to track you down much.’

      He stared pointedly at her and Claire felt her face warm. He knew that she’d been avoiding him.

      ‘I’ve been very busy,’ she said, sounding lame even to her own ears.

      ‘Have you had lunch?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Let me buy you some. I’m starving.’

      ‘I’ve brought mine,’ she replied stiffly.

      ‘OK. I’ll watch. I like to watch.’

      Claire stared at him incredulously. Was he serious? His expression was far from it. He looked like raucous laughter was only seconds away. He was winding her up.

      She rolled her eyes and smiled grudgingly. ‘I’m going to show Lex around.’

      ‘I’ll wait for you at your desk.’

      ‘Don’t bother. I’m never going to agree to go out with you.’

      ‘We’ll see. Never say never.’ He grinned and ducked away before she had a chance to protest.

      Claire would have screamed out loud if it hadn’t been for Lex in the next room. She wanted to stomp her foot so badly, it itched. Suppressing her childish impulses, she went to join Lex.

      She felt herself relax as she gave their new client the grand tour. She answered all Lex’s questions and then went back to her desk to make an appointment. She ignored Campbell, who was poking around the office.

      ‘I understand you’re offering antenatal classes?’ asked Lex.

      ‘That’s right. You start them at about twenty-eight weeks. They’ll run every Wednesday night for four weeks. Would you like me to book you in?’

      ‘Yes, please.’

      Claire retrieved the booking diary from her desk drawer, ignoring a muscled thigh she could see in her peripheral vision as Campbell lounged against her desk. She pencilled Lex and her husband in to start in eight weeks’ time.

      As Claire bade her goodbye, Campbell joined her. ‘See you in four weeks,’ said Claire.

      ‘Actually, I might see you tomorrow. I’ve got my ultrasound at ten.’

      ‘Oh, what a shame you didn’t get an appointment for today. Save you coming back again tomorrow.’

      ‘It was the only one available this week, otherwise it was a couple of weeks’ wait. Unfortunately Brian is away until next week so he’s going to miss out.’

      ‘Is someone coming with you?’ Claire asked, noticing her client’s disappointment.

      ‘I really don’t have anyone else. No family nearby and we’ve only just moved to Brisbane so I don’t really know anybody yet.’

      Claire could feel Lex’s sense of isolation and sympathised with her. ‘Ten o’clock, you say?’ She consulted her appointment book. ‘I’m free then—would you like some company?’

      ‘Oh, yes, please!’ Lex’s sigh of relief was audible. ‘I really didn’t want to go by myself.’

      ‘I’ll meet you there at ten tomorrow.’

      They watched her leave with a new spring in her step.

      ‘That was a really nice thing to do.’ Campbell’s low voice intruded into Claire’s thoughts.

      He’d come closer again. There were only a few millimetres separating them now. Appreciation sparked in his eyes. Nothing sexual. Just recognition of another person’s kind heart.

      He had the most expressive eyes Claire had ever seen. If he felt it or thought it, it was right there for the world to see. He’d obviously never had anything to hide. Claire envied him that.

      ‘Nonsense,’ she said, moving away. ‘Anyone would have done the same thing.’

      ‘No, Claire, they wouldn’t.’ His voice was serious.

      ‘Goodbye, Campbell.’

      Claire turned on her heel and left him standing in the corridor. He smiled at her dismissal but wasn’t that easily perturbed. He followed her into the commonroom, catching up with her just as she had opened the fridge door and was rummaging around inside it. Her very appealing bottom was all he could see of her. He lounged in the doorway, allowing his male appreciation full rein. Soon enough she would dash it all with her shrewish tongue.

      ‘Alone at last,’ he said from the doorway.

      Claire hit her head on a shelf and cursed under her breath. ‘Do you mind?’ she snapped. ‘I thought you’d gone. You scared the living daylights out of me.’ She rubbed her head.

      ‘Sorry,’ he said, trying to look suitably chastised.

      Claire sat at the dining table, ignoring him. She opened her lunchbox as he pulled up a chair opposite.

      ‘Why don’t you date, Claire?’

      So unexpected was his question that Claire nearly choked on the carrot stick she’d been eating. She coughed and spluttered and Campbell poured her a drink of water from the glass pitcher sitting in the middle of the table.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said in a raspy voice, taking a gulp of water. ‘Is it so hard to believe that some women don’t want to be in a relationship?’

      ‘No, not at all.’

      ‘Well, then, I guess I’m one of them.’

      ‘There’s a difference between not wanting to and choosing not to, Claire.’

      ‘Oh, yeah? How?’

      ‘Well, not wanting to indicates lack of interest. Choosing not to is a conscious decision that never allows for the possibility of something happening. It’s choosing with your head.’

      ‘Oh, I get it. You think I should choose with my heart.’ Sarcasm laced her voice.

      ‘I


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