A Marriage Meant To Be. Josie Metcalfe

evening meal is over.’

      ‘It was one of your visitors I was hoping to catch,’ Callie said with a smile. ‘I’m looking for Marian Keeley. She came in with Jess…’

      ‘Ah, you’re one of Marian’s new volunteers, are you?’ she said with a sudden welcoming smile. ‘Come in and have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting for her. She shouldn’t be long now. Jess is already pushing and…’

      At the far end of the corridor there was the sound of a faint wail and her smile grew even wider.

      ‘Oh, I do love that sound!’ she exclaimed as she beckoned Callie into the room behind her. ‘I’ve delivered dozens already, but it still gives me a thrill. I’m Jenny, by the way. How do you take your coffee? Milk and sugar? I’ll make one for Marian as soon as she’s settled Jess onto the ward.’

      ‘I’m Callie,’ she offered distractedly, her innate honesty urging her to confess that she wasn’t one of Marian’s volunteers, but what could she say? That she’d never met the woman? That might not be true if she was the same Marian Keeley she’d met nearly two years ago. ‘Milk with just the tiniest bit of sugar would be perfect,’ she said in the end, deciding that explanations could wait until she came face to face with the refuge’s owner.

      ‘Surely you’re not watching your weight. You certainly don’t need to,’ chatted the young woman as she spooned instant coffee into two mugs and waited for the kettle to boil.

      ‘Trying to cut down on my coffee intake by making it less palatable,’ Callie admitted wryly. ‘At one time I was drinking it black and nearly thick enough to stand a spoon up.’ It had been one way of getting through the brutal regime that doctors put themselves through to qualify and she’d virtually become addicted to the stuff. Then she’d heard that it could be a factor for couples experiencing difficulty in conceiving and was definitely frowned on for pregnant mums and had completely cut it out of her diet.

      Even though it had been nearly five months since she’d lost her precious baby she hadn’t returned to her former coffee intake, feeling as if it would be some sort of admission that she’d given up all hopes of motherhood.

      ‘How do you stand on the subject of biscuits—chocolate biscuits, to be precise?’ Jenny asked as she held up a rather posh tin. ‘A gift from some very happy parents.’

      ‘Biscuits are definitely one of the major food groups and chocolate is essential for the existence of civilisation,’ Callie declared solemnly, then grinned as she beckoned the tin closer.

      ‘Is this a private party or is there room for one more?’ said a voice at the door. ‘I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’

      ‘Marian!’ Jenny said as she leapt to her feet, but Callie hadn’t needed the unintentional introduction. The woman in the doorway was someone she’d never forgotten even though she no longer resembled the grief-ridden fury she’d last encountered.

      She saw the moment that the bereaved woman recognised her and braced herself for another tirade.

      ‘Dr Lowell!’ she gasped and stared at her open-mouthed for several startled seconds before hurrying into the room. To Callie’s utter amazement the woman bent to throw her arms around her for a fervent hug. ‘Oh, Dr Lowell, I’m so glad to see you. I tried to contact you at the hospital but they said you weren’t on Maternity any more and I’ve felt so guilty…so guilty for what I said to you that day…And it wasn’t your fault…I knew it wasn’t your fault…That you’d done your best to save Lisa…That it was my fault if it was anyone’s that she’d gone off like that, and—’

      ‘Hey, Marian, slow down,’ said Jenny, clearly stunned by the woman’s unexpected reaction to her visitor. ‘What’s going on here? Callie said she was one of your volunteers.’

      ‘Actually, I didn’t…’ Callie began, unhappy with the implication that she’d lied, even though she knew she hadn’t corrected the midwife’s mistaken assumption. Marian’s voice overrode hers easily.

      ‘I should be so lucky!’ she exclaimed with a dramatic roll of her eyes as she slumped into the nearest chair, clearly well at home in the room. ‘Jenny, I don’t know whether she’s said anything, but this is the doctor I was telling you about a little while ago. She was there when my Lisa died. She and her husband were the ones who saved my granddaughter’s life.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘I’M SORRY, sir, but there’s nothing I can do,’ said the policeman in a world-weary tone totally at odds with his youthful appearance. ‘From what you’ve told me, your wife left home of her own accord and—’

      ‘But you don’t understand,’ Con interrupted, on the verge of screaming with frustration at yet another example of bureaucratic stonewalling. ‘She suffered a traumatic loss not many weeks ago. Our baby was stillborn. This is totally uncharacteristic for her. She would never walk out on our marriage or her job like this. Never.’

      ‘I’m sorry, sir, but…’

      The polite half-smile was so infuriating, making him feel as if the man was patronising him for being concerned. ‘Don’t you care that something dreadful may have happened to her? That she might even try to commit suicide or—?’

      ‘That would be more in your line, Doctor,’ he interrupted flatly. ‘Depression isn’t a legal matter so much as a medical one. Legally, if your wife decides to walk away, there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it other than to list her as a missing person after forty-eight hours.’

      Con stabbed his fingers through his hair, tempted to pull it out in handfuls. He knew how fragile Callie was at the moment. He’d been devastated when they’d been told their precious baby’s heart wasn’t beating any more; he could only imagine how much worse it must have felt to her, knowing that the child she’d sheltered inside her own body had died before it could be born.

      He’d been tiptoeing around on eggshells while he’d waited for her to sort things out in her head…waited for her to be ready to come and talk to him about her feelings the way she always had…at least, the way she always had until now.

      Being patient had been a struggle for him. It was an intrinsic part of his character that he’d always gone after what he wanted…the way he had when he’d met Callie for the first time. He’d known the moment he’d seen her that he was attracted to her and within minutes of speaking to her had started a determined campaign to persuade her that they were perfect for each other.

      And they had been, in spite of everything that life had thrown at them…at least, that was what he’d believed.

      Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that she would just walk away from him…from their marriage.

      ‘Sir?’ prompted the duty constable in a slightly more conciliatory tone. ‘Sometimes people feel they just have to go away when they need some time to themselves…time to think. Often they’ll get in contact with another member of the family or a friend. It might be worthwhile making a list of your wife’s family and close friends and giving them all a call.’

      Callie would hate that, Con thought as he trudged wearily out of the police station. She was an intensely private person and if she found out that he’d been telling all and sundry that she’d…what? Blown a fuse? Gone crazy? Well, she really would go crazy then.

      As for that note she’d left him…Why on earth would he want to divorce the only woman he’d ever loved? The whole idea was completely…crazy.

      There was only one person that he could go to and that was Martin Nimmo. Not only had he known the man since they’d been at school together, but his old friend had gone into law and had handled any legal matters that he and Callie had needed from time to time. He had absolutely no intention of following her instructions, but if Callie’s depression had her confused enough to think of such a thing, then at some stage she would be getting in contact with Martin.