Darcy was sitting glumly in the hospital canteen, listening to the clangs of pots and pans and ching of plate on plate from the kitchen. He had been nursing the same acrid cup of vending-machine coffee for the last hour, waiting for the staff to change over, so he could once again try to get up to the wards to see Maria. He needed to explain things, make her understand why he left. He hadn’t meant to make her so ill, but obviously the stress and strain of losing him had just proved too much. He had tried to explain this to the doctors, but of course they wouldn’t speak to him with Cassie interfering. He understood she was looking out for her friend, but still, did she realise that what Maria needed to get better was him? She was angry, sure, but still, they were going to be married. They could sort it all out, get back on track. His mother would have to understand, and given the news column inches they had been getting, perhaps she would relent, finally accept Maria as a good choice. The pressure sometimes was intolerable, but Darcy had soon realised that being without Maria was even worse. He took another swig of coffee and shuddered at the taste. The canteen had started serving breakfast now, and he could see coffee on the menu. Anything had to be better than the swill they sold in the machines. He would have to remember to mention it to his mother, for a future project.
He joined the queue, pulling up his jacket collar to try to stay hidden from the other people. Thankfully, at this hour, the canteen only had the odd exhausted and distracted-looking visitor in it, and a few tired hospital workers. Two nurses were ahead of him in the queue, chattering away to each other.
‘So what happened then, in the end?’ the nurse with long black hair tied into a French braid asked her friend, who had short red hair – shocking red in fact.
‘You should have seen it! Vic from security came and tossed him out.’
Darcy’s ears pricked up, and he hunkered his frame down in on itself. Thankfully there were a couple of people between them, equally caught up in their own thoughts.
‘Damn, that poor girl. What’s he even doing here anyway? Come back for the engagement ring or something? Cheap git.’
He wanted to tell them that, of course, she still had the ring, and he didn’t want it back, but he just shuffled with the queue, trying his best to blend in and earwig.
‘I know, right? I hope that big bloke who brought her in knocks him out. I think they’re together. He likes her anyway, I can tell.’
Darcy bristled. What big man? Darcy had assumed one of the journalists had phoned an ambulance, or Lynn. Was this who they meant? He hadn’t seen anyone hanging around, other than himself. Unless… there was that big pushy git from the shop that day, the electrician. He clenched his jaw, remembering seeing them together that day, his hands on her. They’d looked so comfortable with each other. Too comfortable.
‘Oh well, that’s nice. She deserves it.’
‘I know, but—’ she dropped to a whisper now ‘—she’s pregnant. Don’t tell anyone, or I’ll be shot at dawn!’
The nurse’s companion gasped, and her friend shushed her. ‘I mean it, Karen, you can’t tell anyone! If it got out, I’d lose my job. Her solicitor friend is some kind of crazy woman who threatened to sue anyone who opened their mouth.’
Karen nodded at her friend, wide-eyed.
‘I promise I won’t, Shar. What’s she gonna do?’
‘Shar’ sighed sadly. ‘I don’t know, love. Men are total shits, aren’t they?’
Karen nodded vigorously. ‘Yep, that’s why I have Brutus. I tell you, dogs are much more loyal. A dog walker, a place by the fire and a belly rub, and he gives me no hassle. Better off without them.’ Shar nodded and they bought their grapefruit and muesli and moved to a table. Darcy was already leaving, hugging the walls at the sides of the canteen to avoid being seen.
Pregnant? he thought to himself. I’m going to be a father! The thought of what his mother would say, and the idea of having a baby seat in the back of his Porsche, had him running for the car park faster than Jack Flash. He needed time to digest this piece of news. Time to make a plan. What would his mother say? She had managed to spin the story of the jilting to suit the Burgess empire, but that suited her ends anyway, as she had never wanted the marriage to go ahead. His cold feet had been a delight to her, but this? Having a baby with a woman she didn’t like, out of wedlock? After he had jilted her and gone on honeymoon with a mystery woman? This would take a PR whitewash, and no amount of spin could magically make a baby disappear. An heir to the Burgess empire. Imagine if it was a boy!
He pictured his mother, taking in the news, and decided to keep quiet. Just for now. He would keep a distance, watch from afar. Let Maria get better, get back to her life. Maybe then she would contact him herself, to talk about it. Then they could decide together.
Maria was a rational person, she would see sense. She knew what it was like to lose a parent, so surely she wouldn’t deprive her child of one? And even before it was born? She just wasn’t like that. Then, once he was there, at her side, it would only be a matter of time before they were back together. Then they could marry, and the whole thing would be put to bed. His mother would have to accept her then, given that his blood ran through her child. Their blood. Burgess blood. The little mite would be the next leader of the Harrogate tea empire. Little Darcy Junior. If it was a boy, of course. It might be a girl, which was fine. She could maybe take over her mother’s little business. That would keep Maria happy, and then they could keep trying, till little Darcy Junior came along.
There, it was all arranged. By the time Darcy had left the car park to go and shower and sleep at home, he had arranged the next fifty years of Maria’s life, and that of her many offspring.