Questions of Trust A Medical Romance - By Sam Archer Page 0,20

absolutely certain that was what you wanted.’

‘I know,’ she said. She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘But I’ve changed my mind.’

Even though she’d said them before, the words gripped his heart.

‘Why?’

‘Because I’ve had time to consider. Having Kelly with us in Paris the other weekend was wonderful. It made me realise I need her to grow up with me.’

‘You need her. What about what she needs?’

‘A child needs a mother.’

‘A father too.’

‘She’d have a father –’

‘Don’t you dare.’ Tom fought the urge to rise from his chair and jab a finger in her direction. ‘Don’t you dare suggest he could be her father.’

‘Andrew’s a loving, capable man.’

‘Yes, I know that. He certainly proved capable of loving you away from me, didn’t he?’ Tom let the bitterness soak through. ‘So what about the lifestyle you’d have to sacrifice with a child to weigh you down? No more jetting off to the Caribbean on a whim, no more guarantees of cosy, romantic nights when there are fevers to be attended to, bad dreams to be soothed away. Have you actually thought of any of that?’

He’d raised his voice at the end, unable to help himself. Rebecca didn’t flinch. She smoothed her exquisitely manicured hands down her thighs and said, ‘Andrew and I have considered this at great length. And we’ve come to the conclusion it’s what we want.’

‘Just like one of his business deals, is it? Cost-benefit ratios weighed up, risk analyses carried out…’

‘Now you’re just being childish, Tom.’

He slumped back in his chair, staring at her, at a loss for words. This is how it begins, he thought. The vicious back-and-forth sniping that damages a child for ever. The divorce eighteen months earlier had been terrible, more painful than Tom had ever imagined, but at least they’d avoided the nightmare of a custody battle. Rebecca, dazzled by the glamorous world her new man Andrew was whirling her into, had quite readily conceded that Kelly would live with Tom. Everything had been legally settled, and since then, whenever Rebecca had expressed a wish to have Kelly visit or even come away for a weekend, Tom had quite willingly agreed, thankful for the privilege of having his daughter live with him and more than magnanimous in granting visiting rights to her mother.

Then the phone call had come, several weeks earlier when he’d been in the playground talking to Chloe, and Rebecca had announced that she wanted sole custody, wanted Kelly to live with her and the new guy. Tom had hung up on her. She’d phoned again, and eventually they’d held a conversation of sorts, in which he made his position as clear as he could: over my dead body. Rebecca had texted him a few days ago, asking for a meeting, and he’d agreed, assuming as he’d told her earlier that she was going to bring out the legal papers.

‘You could visit,’ Rebecca said. ‘Often.’

He pictured it. The Sunday trips by car to London, the day of frenetic “fun” activities while his heart broke again and again every time he looked at his daughter. The agony of separation at the end, and the dreary slog back home, alone.

‘Forget it,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not going to happen.’

Rebecca drew a long breath. The last time Tom remembered her doing that was just before she announced to him she was having an affair with Andrew.

‘There’s something else,’ she said.

Tom waited.

She looked him full in the face. ‘Andrew and I are moving to France,’ she said. ‘We want Kelly to come with us.’

He was silent. The news might have floored him, but instead Tom felt numbed.

‘Then that’s clinched it,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to discuss this any further.’

‘Tom, you’d –’

‘You had your chance, Rebecca, and you passed it up. I’ve been more than reasonable in letting Kelly visit you over the last year and a half, both when we lived in London and since we moved. You can’t deny that. And I’m happy for that to continue. But for her to come and live with you, for her to move abroad… no.’

‘You’d better listen to what I have to say.’

He stood up. ‘This conversation, and this visit, is over. Please leave.’

Rebecca remained seated. ‘You can’t win this.’

‘Oh, but I can. And I will.’

‘I’ll get the lawyers involved if I have to.’

‘Do your worst.’

‘The courts will always look favourably on the mother in a case like this.’

‘Not if she’s already renounced custody once before.’

This time she did stand. She took a step forward. Almost as tall