Twins On Her Doorstep. Alison Roberts
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silence this time held an edge of shock. Curiosity, too, perhaps, but Finn wasn’t about to tell her anything else. With a huge effort he pushed himself to his feet.
‘This was a mistake,’ he said. Was it his imagination or were his words a little slurred? ‘I’m sorry.’
Why had he thought it was remotely the right thing to do? Because he’d felt guilty? He hadn’t needed Sophie to remind him that he’d broken ethical codes, if not the law, in getting the information he’d needed to track her down.
What had he thought might happen here? That he’d find a woman who already had her own family but had been altruistic enough to donate eggs to help someone else achieve the bliss of motherhood? That she’d instantly recognise the biological bond and welcome some new additions with open arms?
The way her mother seemed to have done?
Finn shook his head. Where had the mother taken the girls? He needed to find them and get out of here. But shaking his head had been a mistake. It triggered a spinning sensation that rapidly escalated. He tried to catch the edge of the desk to steady himself but only succeeded in knocking over the mug of tea that he’d never finished drinking. He watched the puddle of liquid spreading to reach a stack of medical journals as Sophie leapt to her feet.
‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I’m really sorry.’
And then he felt her arm go around his waist.
‘I don’t believe this,’ he heard her mutter as she looped his arm around her neck. ‘Not again…’
He was moving now. Towards the bed in the corner of this consulting room. He was being helped up the step and being turned so that he could sit and then lie down. The spinning hadn’t stopped but the pillow felt cool and soft.
So did Sophie’s hand against his forehead.
A soft touch, he thought. Nice…
‘What’s going on, Finn?’ There was no animosity in her tone now. She had a patient and she was determined to help him. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘Malaria… Had it once before but this is the first relapse. I’ve got the drugs I need…out in my car…laptop bag…’
‘Keys?’
‘In my pocket.’
He felt her hand against his hip and then the rattle of the keys being extracted; then, as the shivering kicked in, the weight of a woollen blanket being draped over his body.
‘Don’t move,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll be right back.’
THE PACKET OF TABLETS, a combination therapy for the treatment of malaria, was easy enough to find in the bag that Sophie carried back into her consultation room in North Cove’s medical centre.
Finding head space where she could even start trying to process this turn of events in her life was rather more difficult.
Impossible, even.
Her daughters? Hardly. The mother of those two little girls was a woman called Stella who’d chosen to bring them into existence. Who’d carried them in her belly for nine months and given birth to them.
It would be a different story if she’d had these babies herself and then given them up for adoption but her only contribution had been an egg donation. She’d given up some biological material to be used by someone who’d had need of it.
Like giving a blood donation. It had been made and that was the end of it.
So why did it feel as if an uncontrollable series of future events was only just beginning?
It was too huge even to know where to start.
And she had something more important to think about right now, in any case.
‘I’m not sure I’m happy to hand out drugs without making a clinical diagnosis,’ she told Finn.
He looked as though it was taking an effort to open his eyes. Such dark eyes, Sophie noticed, that it was hard to tell if his pupils were dilated or not. And, when his gaze touched hers again, there was something different about it. Because she knew why he was here, now?
No. Sophie suspected it would have been the same if they’d caught each other’s gaze on a street somewhere. There was something else here. A sense of connection. Recognition, even?
‘You’re not handing them out. They’re mine. I diagnosed myself. I’ve kept the drugs on hand ever since I contracted malaria in the first place. In case this happened.’
‘What about differential diagnoses?’
Finn sighed. ‘Such as?’
‘A viral illness like influenza. Sepsis. Food poisoning. Hepatitis…’ Sophie racked her brains. Malaria wasn’t a common illness in these parts. ‘Plague,’ she added.
Unexpectedly a corner of Finn’s mouth twitched. ‘It does kind of feel like plague at the moment, I have to confess.’
So he had a sense of humour? Even more unexpectedly, Sophie felt a twinge of liking this guy, closely followed by a wave of sympathy. He hadn’t actually come here with the intention of ruining her life, had he? He was faced with a massive problem and he’d been grasping at straws.
‘Even if your self-diagnosis is correct, it’s my job to decide whether you’re sick enough to be admitted to hospital.’ Sophie picked up her tympanic thermometer and fitted a plastic shield onto it. She smoothed back rather damp waves of his hair to find his ear hole. It was a perfectly normal thing to be doing, so why did it suddenly seem a little too personal? Intimate, even? Maybe her words were for herself as much as him. ‘Right now, you’re a patient in my medical practice.’
Finn submitted to having his temperature taken. ‘It was uncomplicated malaria the first time round. I don’t need to be admitted anywhere. I just need to take my medication and find somewhere to stay for a day or two. Until I’m fit to drive.’
Oh, yeah… He’d already realised that he’d made a mistake and he’d been intending to rectify it by leaving and taking the children with him. She had to admire that decision given that he’d said he was no more in a position to take on his orphaned nieces than she was.
But why had he only met them so recently? There was more to this story than she’d been given. Possibly because she hadn’t wanted to listen and had told him as much in no uncertain terms. She hadn’t wanted her heartstrings tugged, to get involved with this story at any meaningful level.
The thermometer beeped and Sophie glanced at the readout. ‘Forty point one,’ she announced. ‘That’s quite an impressive fever.’
‘Which will probably drop quite soon and then make a reappearance later.’ But Finn was pushing away the blanket she’d covered him with. ‘Would you have a glass of water available? I’d like to take my pills.’
‘Just a minute… I want to have a listen to your chest. And a feel of your tummy, if you don’t mind.’
Finn’s head dropped back against the pillow again. ‘It’s not necessary.’
‘You’re currently my patient,’ Sophie reminded him. ‘You don’t get to fall over in my consulting room and then tell me what is or isn’t necessary. Okay?’
He made no response but Sophie almost got the feeling that he was happy to comply. Maybe he was feeling so awful that being forced to get checked was almost a relief?
Malaria could have nasty complications. Fatal ones, such as cerebral oedema, organ failure and coma due to hypoglycaemia. This might be the first case of malaria that Sophie had come across but the professional part of her brain