Their Baby Bond. Amy Andrews

baby in a couple of months. It was no longer just about her. The baby deserved a stable home life. Not some male figure who had too much of his own baggage to commit to them. She had to think even harder about who she let in.

      ‘Let me out,’ she said, holding on to the last shred of her sanity.

      Will sighed, releasing her hair, and stepped away from her.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said, opening the door hastily and walking out into the cool air outside.

      Her office was suddenly hot. Stuffy. She couldn’t breathe. Lydia was hovering outside, and looked relieved when Lou appeared intact. Will took a moment to collect himself, and then stepped out of Lou’s office.

      ‘Help! I need help in here!’ came a raised voice from one of the bays.

      The voice held just the right note of panic, and they ran. Lou, Lydia, Peter and Will, with Lou reaching the bedside first. ‘What’s wrong, Kristy?’

      ‘I think she’s having an allergic reaction to the penicillin,’ said Kristy, her face pale.

      ‘Stop it,’ Will ordered as he looked down at the very frightened-looking child in question. The little girl was naked but for a nappy, and had large red welts forming all over her body before their eyes. Her lips were looking very puffy, and Will didn’t need a stethoscope to hear the wheezes coming from the lungs. Anaphylaxis.

      ‘I’ll get the resus trolley,’ said Peter.

      ‘Oxygen, adrenaline, phenergan, hydrocortisone and some ventolin,’ Will directed, as everyone sprang into action around him.

      Lou drew up and administered the drugs, Lydia attached a sats probe, Peter assembled the ventolin and Kristy took care of the oxygen.

      ‘How old is she? What’s her diagnosis?’ Will asked.

      ‘Erica’s eighteen months,’ Lou told him. ‘Cellulitis from a possum bite.’

      ‘Is this Erica’s first dose?’

      ‘Second,’ said Kristy.

      He nodded. That made sense. Often anaphylactic reactions weren’t seen until the second or subsequent exposure to the particular allergen. Will looked around for a stethoscope and found one being thrust into his hand by Lou. Efficient. He smiled at her gratefully.

      The wheezes had reduced markedly, and Will breathed a sigh of relief that they had halted the rapid progress of a condition that could have been fatal in minutes.

      ‘Let’s get her into the high dependency bay. We’ll special her for the next little while,’ said Lou.

      Her hands shook slightly as she helped push the cot to the bay opposite the nurse’s station. Thank God Will had been here. Having an experienced paediatrician in an emergency on Ward Two was a definite bonus.

      Will hung around while the nursing team got the little girl settled in her temporary locale.

      ‘Possum bite?’ he asked as they trooped back into the nurses’ station.

      ‘Camping with the family,’ explained Peter. ‘Tried to pat one of the friendly possums. It bit her arm.’

      ‘Ouch.’ Will winced.

      ‘Hey, Pete,’ said Lydia casually. ‘I’ve an idea. Why don’t you ask our new colleague about the shave?’ She nodded towards Will.

      Pete’s eyes lit up. ‘Good idea, Lydia. Brilliant. Just brilliant.’

      Pete smiled at Will and rubbed his hands together.

      Lydia gave him a baleful smile. ‘What?’ Will said warily.

      ‘Dr Galligher,’ said Pete, narrowing his eyes speculatively. ‘You do know what they say about bald men, don’t you?’

      Will nodded, still wary. ‘Ah, but is it true, Pete?’

      ‘Never had any complaints.’ Pete winked. ‘But seriously, Shave for a Cure is on in a few weeks, and I just need one more person to agree to have their hair cut.’

      ‘That’s for the Leukaemia Foundation?’ Will asked.

      Pete nodded. ‘I’ve been trying to convince Lou.’

      Will looked at Lou and her beautiful hair, completely horrified by Pete’s suggestion. Over my dead body! ‘That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,’ he said dismissively.

      ‘No, no,’ Pete said, shaking his head emphatically. ‘Think about it. That plait is famous in this hospital. It’s been part of the history here for years. We’d raise a fortune. People would come from all over the hospital to finally see Lou lose the plait.’

      ‘Sacrilege.’ Lydia shook her head.

      ‘Hear, hear,’ agreed Will, suddenly warming to Lydia again.

      ‘Yes, I can see the signs around the hospital now. “Come see our Lou lose her plait”,’ Pete said, staring at a point in mid-air and flicking his hands to emphasise each word.

      ‘Are you insane?’ asked Will incredulously. How could the man even think of cutting off Lou’s gorgeous locks?

      Lou listened to their conversation about herself and her hair, feeling suddenly invisible. Like a life support system for a head of hair.

      ‘Oh, come on, there wouldn’t be one person who hadn’t thought about snipping it off as she’s walked past all these years. And it would make such a glorious wig,’ Pete said, lifting Lou’s plait and examining the blend of colours.

      ‘Ah, excuse me—I am actually standing here in the same room,’ said Lou, bemused by their in-depth discussion.

      ‘The plait stays,’ Will said firmly.

      ‘Lou?’ Pete entreated, appealing to his boss one last time.

      Lou opened her mouth to graciously decline.

      ‘No, Pete,’ said Will, even more firmly this time. ‘Absolutely not.’

      Lou turned and raised her eyebrow at Will. She knew he’d always been obsessed with her hair, but this was ridiculous. He was looking at her as if he owned her hair. As if he owned her. She felt the early simmer of her blood pick up to a slow boil. Did he really think he actually had a say over what she did with her hair? Or any other part of her body? Did he think he could walk back in after a year and she’d just fall back into her old Will-worshipping ways?

      If she was going to hold on to herself and her sanity now Will was back, he had to know that their old dynamic was dead. No more following meekly wherever he led. I am over you, buddy boy. Time to draw a line in the sand.

      ‘I’ll do it,’ she said, talking to Pete, but looking pointedly at Will.

      ‘Oh, no,’ gasped Kristy.

      ‘Lou,’ warned Lydia.

      ‘Yes!’ Pete rubbed his hands together with glee and picked up a pen.

      ‘No. Don’t put her down. I’ll do it,’ Will instructed, still holding Lou’s gaze.

      Lou broke eye contact. ‘Do not listen to him. Long hair with a baby is not a good combination. I’m doing it.’

      ‘He doesn’t need you now,’ said Will, placing a stilling hand on Pete’s, hovering above an official form, pen poised. ‘I’ve already volunteered.’

      Everyone in the nurses’ station looked at Lou. She felt as if she was in a tennis match, her colleagues looking left and right as they lobbed the bone of contention between them.

      She shrugged. ‘You want to as well—fine. But I’m not changing my mind. He can have both of us,’ she said.

      ‘Lou,’ said Will, looking at the stubborn set of her chin, ‘you’re just trying to prove a point now. You don’t have to do this.’ Will realised