Second Chance With The Single Mum. Annie ClaydonЧитать онлайн книгу.
to be removed, and since the other was partially blocked, she’d be unlikely to ever conceive again. And now she had to go out there and persuade Alistair that she could work with him, and he should give Anya the chance she so badly needed. Raina splashed cool water onto her cheeks, dabbing them dry with a tissue from her bag.
She’d thought that Alistair might spend the time choosing a sandwich, but instead he was holding two cups of takeaway coffee. Putting one into her hand, he gestured towards the door.
‘Would you mind if we walked? I’ve been shut up inside all morning...’
‘Walking would be nice.’ At least it would give her something to do with her feet. And the coffee would give her something to do with her hands. All she needed to worry about now was her tongue. She took a sip of the coffee. Plenty of frothed milk and a little sugar. It should be no surprise that Alistair remembered the way she liked it, but still it was a shock, reminding Raina of the scale of the task she’d taken on. Being with Alistair would be an exercise in remembering all the things she’d tried so hard to forget.
* * *
Alistair had almost jumped out of his skin when he’d seen Raina. How many times had he thought he’d glimpsed her in a crowd, and then looked again to find it wasn’t her? But this was no ghost.
Alistair guessed that if she’d had any options that didn’t involve him, she would have taken them. He should remember that. Despite her obvious agitation, she looked well. When he’d last seen her she’d had rings of fatigue under her eyes, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. But now she was more the way he’d first seen her, a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who’d taken his breath away. Divorce clearly suited her.
It was a bitter thought. It knocked him off balance even more than the music in the coffee shop, which rendered him almost completely deaf and had changed his mind about sitting down to talk. He needed to be able to hear everything that Raina was saying.
The pavement was only a little better, but if they avoided the main roads, the traffic noise wouldn’t be too distracting. If he stayed on her left side, then his ‘good’ ear could catch most of what she said.
‘You’ve read about the project on our website?’ Of course she had. Raina was nothing if not thorough.
She nodded a yes, maybe voicing it too, and Alistair slowed his pace to a stroll. Watching the words form on her lips would help fill in the gaps in his hearing.
‘Then you’ll know that this project marks the start of a new and important expansion in the activities of The Watchlight Trust. Up till now, our primary focus has been on helping people in the accident and rescue services, but we’ve always known that many of the techniques we use have a much wider application. My co-director, Gabriel DeMarco, and I have been working towards realising that potential for some time now.’
He was practically quoting from the website, and she’d read that already. But in a world that had suddenly turned upside down he might be forgiven for finding a few solid facts reassuring.
‘Our development team is currently housed in our offices, and we have medical services based at our own clinic next door. Our long-term aim is to create a separate division of the charity, whose remit is to explore innovative technologies and make them available to patients.’
‘It’s a bold step. And one that will benefit a lot of people.’
Alistair had thought so too. And then sudden hearing loss had turned his working day into a miasma of half-heard sentences, a constant struggle to keep up. Gabriel had done his best to help, but it had only made Alistair feel even more useless, relegated to standing by and watching while others made the bold steps that it took to realise the project that meant so much to him.
But now he had a purpose. Raina was unaware of the nature of the challenge she’d thrown at him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t rise to it and find a way to help her.
‘We’re still refining our product and procedures, and we’re hoping to be able to learn with the parents and children we select for the pilot project.’
‘I’d welcome the chance to learn, and to contribute as much as I’m able as well.’
Staring at her lips had its disadvantages. He could make out what she was saying better, but it reminded Alistair of all the other times he’d studied her face. Locked in each other’s arms, immersed in each other...
Enough! There was no going back, and the present was more than enough to deal with. Alistair forced his thoughts back to the child. She was what mattered.
‘Has your daughter been fitted with a prosthetic yet?’
‘Yes, six months ago. It took some time for it to be made, and the first one she was given didn’t fit properly, so we had to wait again for it to be adjusted. By the time we did get it right, Anya was determined she didn’t want it, however much we tried to encourage her. 3D printing is a much faster and more flexible process and I think it may be more appropriate for Anya’s needs.’
‘So tell me why you think she should have one.’ Alistair stopped walking, facing her so that he could concentrate on Raina’s answer. It was the question he’d asked every parent and he’d received a variety of replies.
Raina smiled, suddenly sure of herself. ‘I don’t think she should do anything. I want her to have a choice about if and when she uses a prosthetic, and she won’t have that choice unless she learns what she can do with one. She’s starting to reach out into the world, and I want her to know about the different options she has.’
Raina pressed her lips together, tilting her jaw slightly. The look was so familiar to him that Alistair had to swallow a smile. Raina had made up her mind, and she was challenging him to disagree, but what she wanted for her daughter was exactly in line with his own thinking.
‘That’s our approach too. We believe that the speed and low cost of 3D pr0.inting can help us address some of the issues involved with children who have previously rejected prosthetics, but we’re not limiting our expectations to any one outcome.’
‘Neither am I. I just want...’ A car roared past, drowning out the rest of the sentence.
‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you.’
‘I want Anya to be happy and fulfilled. That’s the only expectation I’m not giving up on.’
He should have known that, without having to ask. Raina was a good doctor, and she never gave up on anyone. How could she be expected to give up on her own daughter?
Alistair started to walk again, and their route took them onto the main road, which ran along the bank of the Thames. He motioned Raina towards the crossing, noticing that her lips were moving and wondering if she was saying anything of any importance. He decided not to ask. He’d save the I didn’t hear for when he knew it was needed.
The wide pavement on the other side of the road was bordered by the river, and Alistair looked for a quiet place that they might sit. His head was buzzing, and he’d made his way towards a bench, standing in the shadow of Cleopatra’s Needle, before he realised where they were.
‘I have half an hour. Can you meet me on the bench by the river?’
One or the other of them had brought coffee then, too. They had been young doctors working long shifts and they’d needed the caffeine and the fresh air almost as much as they’d needed the love that had been in each other’s eyes.
It was too late to move now. Raina had sat down next to him, sipping the last dregs of her coffee. He shifted around on the bench so that he was facing her.
‘We’re hoping to involve parents very closely in this project. Would that be a problem for you time-wise?’
Raina shook her head. ‘I’ve taken a few years off work to care for Anya. She’s my only priority, and I can spend as much time as it takes to make this a success.’
She’d had such a promising