‘You’d make a good mother,’ said Hope. ‘You’re always so patient with Annelise, more so than me at times, and Stanley practically worshipped the ground you walked on.’
‘Perhaps it’s easier when the full responsibility is borne by another. I doubt I’d be that good as a real mother. I’d probably get the poor child into all sorts of scrapes, lead him or her totally astray. I think I’d also be worried about becoming bored.’
‘What an odd thing to say.’
Romily seemed to reflect on this. ‘I lose interest easily, that’s my problem. It’s why I never married until I did; previous boyfriends had bored me to tears in no time.’ She smiled. ‘Jack never did. We were two of a kind, always in need of some new challenge, the next big thrill. In many ways, I was his last challenge. And he,’ she added softly, ‘was my greatest.’
At the sadness in Romily’s voice, Hope squeezed her hand gently. Then, as another blood-curdling cry filled the air, she closed her eyes, not to block out her cousin’s suffering, but to focus her thoughts on willing Allegra through her ordeal.
When it went quiet again, she said, ‘Romily, would I be right in thinking that life at Island House must seem very dull for you now without Jack?’
‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. After all, having you and Allegra around has not been without its moments of drama.’
‘But you need more, don’t you? You’re not the kind of woman who sits at home waiting for something to happen; you’re proactive, not reactive.’
‘How very perceptive of you.’
‘I thought it when I first met you, the way you took charge of us all after the funeral. Especially the way you handled Arthur.’
‘It had the bonus of keeping me busy. Of not dwelling on Jack.’
‘But you can’t have us under your feet as a distraction for ever, can you?’
‘Is this you saying you want to move back to London? You mustn’t ever feel you have to leave, that you’ve outstayed your welcome. Who knows, maybe it will be me who leaves to go and do something more useful than I’m currently doing.’
‘I don’t think life would be half so much fun without you at Island House,’ said Hope. ‘And what,’ she added with a teasing smile, ‘would your charming wing commander do if you left? The man is clearly besotted with you. Do you care for him at all?’
‘He’s not my charming anything. But I’m happy for him to visit; he brightens up the day when he calls. Now tell me how your children’s book is coming along. Are you pleased with it?’
‘I’m afraid that without Stanley on hand, I find I’m at a slight loss. It’s almost as if he were my muse. Him and Bobby.’
‘What can you do to resolve matters?’
‘I don’t know. Other than wait for further inspiration.’
‘It’ll come. You just need to be patient. Don’t force it.’
Another howl of agonising distress made them both flinch. But unlike previous cries when poor Allegra had succumbed to yet another contraction, this one went on and on and chilled Hope to the core of her being. How could anyone go through that amount of suffering and survive?
An hour later Hope left for Island House to put Annelise to bed.
Alone in the waiting room, Romily thought how she had not been entirely truthful with Hope. She had indeed grown bored recently. On the home straight with her latest book, she was planning to apply to the ATA, just as Sarah had been nagging her to do ever since January. Her friend had written to her only yesterday urging to get on with her application. YOU’RE NEEDED! she had written in large capital letters, just in case Romily hadn’t got the message.
Romily had also been somewhat economical with the truth over the way she felt about not having children of her own. She had never before had much contact with young children and so had not thought that motherhood was something that would interest her. But then along had come Annelise and Stanley and their presence at Island House had provoked an emotion she had previously not experienced. She now strongly believed that she and Jack would have seriously considered the possibility of having children together one day, even so late in his life.
As for Hope teasing her about Tony Abbott, well the girl was way off the mark there. Once Tony had realised his error, which was due in part to Romily not putting him in the picture right away, he had become a very acceptable addition to the household. Having a man around occasionally helped to offset the balance of so many women living under one roof.
The appearance of a steel-grey-haired man in the waiting room interrupted her thoughts. ‘Mrs Devereux-Temple?’ he said, his expression severe. ‘I’m Dr Longman.’
Romily stood up hurriedly. ‘How is Allegra?’ she asked anxiously, aware that she hadn’t heard her cry out for a while now.
‘I’m afraid Mrs Hartley is very weak. Her labour was not without complication.’
‘But she’s all right, isn’t she?’
The man shook his head. ‘She’s weak,’ he repeated. ‘She’s lost a lot of blood.’
‘And the baby?’
