his chest bloomed with a nameless ache. Was that love? Surely that was impossible. How could he feel an instant bond with a baby he didn’t even want? But it brought home to him how much joy had gone out of his life. First Holly, then Emma.
Billy stopped sucking. His eyes closed briefly and his chest heaved with a gusty sigh. Then he opened his eyes again and resumed feeding. He gazed up at Darcy sleepily, his eyelids heavy. Trusting. Darcy held out a baby finger and Billy casually wrapped his tiny fingers around it and hung on. Darcy’s vision blurred.
“Just don’t get used to me being around long-term because that’s no part of your mother’s plan.”
* * *
EMMA WOKE UP in her marriage bed. Wonderingly, she smoothed her fingers over the handmade coverlet of muted greens traced with dark red she and Darcy had chosen together from a market stall in Mornington.
Just for a moment she wanted to believe the past couple of years were nothing more than a horrible dream. She closed her eyes, picturing Darcy in the kitchen making coffee and Holly softly babbling to herself in her room down the hall. In a moment she would get up, pick Holly out of her cot and head to the kitchen for breakfast. Outside, a warm spring sun would be shining and the sliding doors open onto the deck where bees were busy in the flowering shrubs. Darcy would kiss her and tell her that instead of watching the grand final football game with the guys he would rather go on a picnic with her and Holly—
The baby cried.
The dream evaporated.
Her eyes opened. The pillow next to hers was plump and empty, the other side of the bed not slept in. The furnishings were familiar, but the room itself, white walls and dark wood trim, she’d never seen before.
Where was she? Through the window she could see a huge gum tree and the flat roofs of buildings. Oh, right. Darcy’s apartment over the pub. He must have brought them here. Muted sounds drifted up through the heating vents, the clink of beer glasses being stacked, the quiet murmur of conversation, the TV.
The nightmare of reality came flooding back. Her fever, Billy’s colic, her unfinished term paper...
Billy was crying in the room next to hers. She had to get up. Somehow she had to find the strength and the will to nurse him. She pushed the coverlet back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her head spun as she weakly pushed herself to a sitting position. Her thin camisole was damp with perspiration and her pulse was racing. Every joint and muscle ached.
Darcy had been amazing yesterday—was it yesterday?—bathing Billy and feeding him. She never would have thought Darcy capable of such—well, she couldn’t call it competence, but he’d managed, somehow, and done so with surprising tenderness. No, she wouldn’t have thought that possible given he didn’t want anything to do with Billy. Yet in a crisis he’d stepped up.
Billy’s cries became louder, more insistent.
Today would be different. She couldn’t rely on Darcy to keep on taking care of Billy. He needed to be downstairs in the pub, tending to his customers. The pub would be his first priority, as always.
“I’m coming, Billy.” Stifling a groan, she slowly pushed herself off the bed and stood, swaying dizzily. She tried to take a step, stumbled against the nightstand and fell onto the bed. Head bowed, knees on elbows, she tried to gather the strength for another attempt.
Miraculously, the crying stopped.
Huh? Billy never stopped once he’d started, not until he was picked up and fed. Sometimes not even then.
Something must be wrong. Maybe he’d fallen, though she hadn’t heard a thump. Where had Darcy put him to bed? Oh, God, maybe he’d choked. Maybe—
The door opened. Darcy had Billy in his arms and was feeding him from a bottle. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” She was so startled to see Darcy with the baby she hardly knew what she was saying. Penetrating the fog of her illness was a sharp stab of joy at seeing Darcy holding his son. Never in a million years would she have chosen to get this sick, but maybe her illness would have a silver lining.
“Can you manage him for a while?” Darcy said. “It’s lunchtime and Kirsty hasn’t come in yet.”
She nodded and climbed beneath the covers. He walked over and laid Billy in her arms, taking a moment to adjust him