The Wedding. Caroline Anderson

wagged and leant up against her leg, tongue lolling and a big smile on his face, and Kate clipped his lead on.

      ‘Come on, you big hussy. That’s enough flirting,’ Nick said, and put him in his crate in the back of his estate car—much, much easier to transport him in—and they drove back to the barn and introduced him to the house.

      ‘It’s a good job they don’t mind pets here,’ she said, wondering how much damage he would do, but he hadn’t wrecked anything at home yet, and she hoped if he settled here quickly, there wouldn’t be a problem.

      ‘Can you put him in the crate, if necessary?’ Nick asked, reading her mind, and she nodded.

      ‘Yes, but I hardly ever use it, he’s been so good. And I’ve got him a new rope toy to play with. That might keep him occupied.’

      They took him out and let him run around in the garden, and he christened a few of the bushes and came back inside, flopping down in a patch of sunshine on the wooden floor of the dining room and watching them from under his eyebrows as they made a pot of tea.

      ‘We mustn’t forget to take this back,’ Kate said, checking the charge on the games console while Nick poured the tea, and while she waited for it to cool and stared at the view, he cut them thick slices of the lemon drizzle cake and put one down in front of her.

      ‘I’ll be like a house,’ she protested, but he just smiled.

      ‘You haven’t put an ounce on in years,’ he told her. ‘You work too hard.’

      ‘Well, I’m not working now.’

      ‘No, but you haven’t been eating in the hospital.’

      ‘That’s rubbish, I’ve been eating junk food! Except for the pie last night, and that was hardly low calorie.’

      ‘It was good, though, and let’s face it, a little weight on you won’t hurt. You’ll just get curvier, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve got a beautiful body, Kate. Be proud of it.’

      She met his eyes and saw the heat flicker in them before he banked it, and she felt tears clog her throat. He didn’t know what he was talking about. Maybe once, but not any more. Not since her surgery.

      She looked away. ‘I’d rather not gain if I can avoid it,’ she said, ‘so I hope you’re planning something low calorie for supper.’

      ‘Not tonight,’ he said with a wry laugh. ‘Tonight is Ben’s chilli, but I’ll cut down on the oil and it’s extralean steak mince. And kidney beans are good for you. Anyway, you’ll love it, it’s a great recipe—assuming I can pull it off.’

      She raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t it a bit ambitious for you?’ she asked, glad to get off the topic of her body. ‘I mean, I know you’re trying to spoil me, but we all know you’re the king of the ready meals aisle.’

      He laughed and picked up his cake. ‘I don’t know. We’ll see, won’t we?’ He took a bite of the cake and put it down, then stared back out of the window, his smile fading. A quiet sigh eased from his body, and he turned to her, his eyes troubled.

      ‘How are we going to tell him, Kate?’ he asked softly.

      She gave a helpless little shrug. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

      

      In the end, it was easy.

      Jem was sitting up in his bed when they arrived, waiting for them. They gave him the games console and settled themselves down, Kate on the armchair by the bed where he sat during the day when he was allowed out, and Nick on a hard plastic chair facing them, so they could both see him.

      There was a child in a bed near Jem who was having a blood transfusion, and he looked around, his eyes tracking to his drip and up to the bag of blood running slowly into him. He watched it drip for a moment, then said thoughtfully, ‘I wonder who my blood came from?’

      She saw Nick stiffen slightly, and their eyes met. Was this it? The time? She felt her heart thump against her ribs, and he gave her an imperceptible nod.

      ‘It could have been Uncle Nick,’ she said quietly. ‘Or Jack. They took some from both of them. You’re B-negative—it’s a fairly rare blood group and they’d run out, and you have to have the same otherwise it makes you very ill.’

      ‘And you’re the same as me?’ he asked, looking straight at Nick.

      She saw his jaw clench. ‘Yes.’

      ‘That was lucky. Are you the same, Mum?’

      She shook her head. ‘No.’ His head swivelled back to Nick. ‘So how did they know we were the same?’

      ‘They tested you. I know mine, because I give blood regularly. So does Jack.’ He hesitated, then said carefully, ‘You inherit the genes that determine your blood group from one or other of your parents,’ he said, and then waited.

      Jem frowned. ‘So—my dad must have been B-negative, too, then?’

      ‘Yes.’

      It wasn’t strictly true. His father could have been AB, but they both knew he wasn’t, and thankfully Nick didn’t complicate it any more than it already was. Because the essence of it was already registering, Kate could see.

      ‘And it’s rare?’ Jem was saying, a little frown pleating his brow, and she saw the muscle in Nick’s jaw flicker again.

      ‘Yes. Yes, it’s rare. Less than three in a hundred people.’

      The frown deepened, and his eyes swivelled to Kate’s. ‘That’s weird.’

      ‘Not really.’ She could feel her heart pounding, and she swallowed before continuing, ‘Jem, there’s something you need to know, something I should have told you before.’

      She saw the light dawn in his eyes, and he turned his head slowly back to Nick and stared at him hard. ‘Are you my father?’ he asked, his voice flat.

      She saw Nick’s throat work, and he nodded slightly. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘Yes, I am.’

      For an endless moment he just stared at Nick in silence, and Kate could see the pulse beating in his throat.

      ‘But—how? I thought—Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you tell me my dad was dead?’ he asked, turning back to Kate and spearing her with accusing eyes. ‘I thought I didn’t have a father, but if Uncle Nick’s my father, I could have had a dad all my life! Why didn’t you tell me?’

      Her stomach knotted into a ball at the look in his eyes. ‘I couldn’t. Nick was married, he had a family, and I didn’t think making them all sad would make us any happier, and it wouldn’t have helped us. We had each other, Jem. We were all right—’

      ‘No, we weren’t! I didn’t have a dad. I wanted a dad—I’ve always wanted a dad. But I thought he was dead, and all the time he was alive and you didn’t tell me! If I hadn’t had the accident, if I hadn’t needed his blood, would you have told me? Ever?’

      She swallowed down the tears. ‘Of course I would. I always knew I’d have to tell you one day when the time was right, I just didn’t know when that would be. We’ve been trying to work out how to do it without hurting you.’

      He stared reproachfully at her, then at Nick again, and asked him a question she’d asked herself over and over. ‘Why don’t you want to be my dad?’

      Nick flinched as if he’d been kicked in the gut. ‘I do.’

      ‘You don’t,’ Jem said firmly. ‘When we were on the beach flying the kite, ages ago, after Christmas last year, that American lady said I was like my father, and I laughed, and you said you couldn’t do this and stormed off. I didn’t understand, but that was it, wasn’t it? She realised you were my dad, and you didn’t want me to know, so you walked away, because you don’t want to be my father.’