With Love From Cape Town. Joss Wood

And before Ella could protest further, he carried her out of the room and up the stairs.

      Robina sank into her favourite chair and stared into the fire. Whatever she and Niall felt about each other, however angry they were, they needed to make sure Ella was happy. It wasn’t fair to let the child sense that they were having problems. And for the little girl to worry it was her fault! That was unforgivable.

      In keeping with her mood, the wind hurled rain against the window and Robina wrapped her arms around her body in a bid to draw some warmth into her chilled soul.

      ‘She wants you to go up and say goodnight again.’ Niall’s voice came from the doorway. Despite his size he moved quietly.

      Robina eased herself out of her chair. ‘Of course,’ she said.

      But as she passed him he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop. The touch of his hand sent shock waves through her body. How long had it been since he had touched her?

      ‘If you want a divorce, I won’t stand in your way.’

      ‘Is that what you want?’ Robina said tiredly, not knowing if she had the strength to fight him any longer.

      ‘No, you know it isn’t.’ It sounded as if the words were being dragged from his lips. Her heart lifted. Did he still care? Enough not to want to let her go?

      ‘I don’t want my daughter to lose another mother—and you are her mother now. God knows, she’s known enough sadness in her short life already. I’d do anything to protect her.’

      Robina’s heart plummeted. Was that the only reason he wanted her to stay? For his daughter’s sake? Not for the first time, she wondered sadly if that was the real reason he had married her. Wasn’t that what he had just said? He wanted a home, and by that she assumed he meant someone to run it, and a family. Things hadn’t exactly turned out the way he had expected.

      ‘Neither do I want to cause Ella any more pain,’ she said sadly. ‘As she said, I promised her I would never leave her. You know I love her. So no, we’re married and we’ll stay married. I made my vows and I’ll stick by them. For better or for worse. We’ve had the better, let’s deal with the worse.’ She pulled her hand away. ‘Goodnight, Niall, I’ll see you at breakfast.’ Knowing that she was moments away from breaking down and that all she had left was her pride, she hurried away to the sanctuary of her room.

       Chapter Three

      ‘MOST of you have met my wife.’ Niall indicated Robina with a nod of his head. ‘And you all know why she is here.’

      There were a number of smiles and nods of recognition from around the room. It was the first day of filming and Robina and her cameraman, John, who would be doubling up as sound recordist, were sitting in on the clinic’s regular update meeting. Niall had told her that he was reluctantly—and he had emphasised the word reluctantly—agreeing to let filming go ahead, but he would stop it if he thought it was no longer in his patients’ best interests.

      ‘We meet once a week to discuss cases,’ Niall explained. ‘This gives everyone an opportunity to share any concerns they may have about patients’ treatment. It is also where we discuss the more complex cases and agree on a way forward.’ Niall folded his hands on the table and leaned forward.

      He looks so distant, Robina thought, at least when he looks at me. Dressed in his dark suit, his shirt blindingly white and with a dark blue tie, he was the epitome of the successful doctor and Robina was reminded of the first time she had seen him. He had seemed intimidating then too, at least until she had spent time with him and realised that under that formal, serious demeanour was a man who had a dry sense of humour, who was kind and thoughtful and who could make her pulse race like no other. Where had that man gone?

      She glanced around the room. There was an embryologist, whose name she hadn’t quite caught, Niall and one of the other doctors, a part-timer called Elaine, two specialist nurses, Sally and Mairi, as well as the nurse manager, Catriona. All the other staff were busy in the lab or seeing patients.

      ‘I would guess that not everyone is happy that we are being filmed, but now that we have agreed to go ahead, I know you will all do your best to make it as smooth as possible,’ Niall continued easily.

      He knows his staff will do whatever he asks, Robina thought as everyone nodded. They trusted him completely.

      ‘I’ve contacted all our patients who are either on treatment or scheduled for an appointment, asking whether they wish to take part,’ Catriona said. ‘And have passed the names of about ten patients to Robina.’ The older woman smiled at her. ‘For what it’s worth, I think it’s an excellent idea—as long as the patients are happy and as long as I don’t have to appear on camera.’

      ‘I don’t mind being filmed,’ Sally, the dark haired nurse with an impish grin, said, smoothing her hair, ‘I just worry I might say something daft.’

      ‘Don’t worry,’ Robina reassured her, ‘you’ll soon forget about the camera, believe me. And if you say something daft, we’ll edit it.’

      ‘I’m not appearing, if that’s okay,’ Mairi chipped in. ‘They say the camera puts on ten pounds, and with the extra weight I’m carrying already, I don’t think I could face it.’

      Everyone laughed and a spate of good-natured teasing broke out.

      ‘Can we move on?’ Niall said when everyone had settled again. ‘We have a number of cases to discuss before I have to check on my patients in the labour ward.’

      On top of his patients at the clinic, Niall still carried a full workload of obstetric cases. No wonder we hardly see each other, Robina thought sadly. Either she was working, or he was, and that included most evenings and weekends.

      ‘Annette is coming in for her seven-week scan this morning,’ Sally announced. ‘Keep your fingers crossed, everyone.’ The mood in the room turned sombre.

      ‘This is Annette’s third attempt,’ Catriona explained to Robina. ‘The first time the embryos didn’t implant, the second time, she had a positive pregnancy test, but her seven-week scan, the one we do to determine whether the pregnancy is ongoing, showed no evidence of a heartbeat. As you can imagine, she was distraught. She and her husband have agreed that this will be their last attempt—she was thrilled when this most recent pregnancy test was positive—but they are naturally extremely anxious. I think she might be one of the women who said they’d be happy to talk to you.’

      ‘Who’s doing the scan?’ Niall asked.

      ‘I am,’ replied Sally. ‘I looked after her through her other treatments.’ She chewed on her lower lip. ‘I don’t know how she’ll cope if we don’t find a heartbeat. And I will hate being the one that has to tell her.’

      ‘Let’s just wait and see,’ Catriona said soothingly. ‘There’s no point in getting ahead of ourselves.’

      ‘I have a patient I’d like to discuss,’ Niall said. ‘It is a difficult case and I’d like to know how everybody feels—particularly the embryologists—before I see this lady.’

      Everyone turned curious eyes on Niall.

      ‘I have been approached by a woman who wants us to carry out PGD—pre-implantation genetic diagnosis,’ he said to Robina, for the benefit of the camera. ‘She has a family history of breast cancer in the family and all the female relatives in her family have either died or have had the disease. As a precaution, she decided to have a prophylactic double mastectomy when she was eighteen, after genetic testing showed that she carried the variant BRCA1 gene.’

      There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a murmur of sympathy from around the room.

      ‘Now that Isabel has joined us…’ he smiled at the curly-haired embryologist sitting on his right ‘…we are