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imagination, but she was curled up next to him in bed…and both of them were naked.
    Edging away from her, he’d flung an arm across his sore eyes and stifled a groan, a rush of confusion, guilt and self-disgust sweeping through him. The virus, pills and disappointment over Holly’s rejection were not sufficient excuses for his behaviour. And he’d compounded that bad behaviour by pretending to be asleep when Julia stirred so he wouldn’t have to face her. Thankfully she’d seemed as keen as he to avoid a post-mortem as she’d risen and swiftly dressed before quietly letting herself out of his room.
    He hadn’t wanted to talk with Julia, but that had been as nothing compared to his reluctance at the thought of seeingHolly—of not only dealing with what he had done, but confronting her about her rejection and the various things she had kept from him. A fresh wave of nausea had assailed him.
    Illness had kept him in bed and away from work for another twenty-four hours. Had he known in advance how terrible his return to A&E and the scene with Holly were going to be, he might have stayed in bed for ever.
    He’d certainly had no idea how horribly that wretched night would come back to haunt him, destroying his relationship with Holly and resulting in the announcement that Julia was expecting his child. An announcement that had led him into an unwanted, loveless marriage with only months to prepare for his unexpected role as a father.
    It had terrified him
    It still did, he acknowledged, reality slamming him back to the present. For now he had to push all the pain and emotion of the past from his mind and focus on the baby. His baby—for whom he had sacrificed himself and endured months of unhappiness.
    With Julia.
    Without Holly.
    He listened as Shaun Haggerty responded to Holly’s suggestion about the baby’s prematurity. ‘We will, of course, continue to observe him closely.’
    ‘You said there was another problem?’ Gus prompted, grateful they were moving on from the awkward issue of conception.
    ‘Yes.’ The consultant opened a file, glancing at something before looking up again, apology in his eyes. ‘I don’t like to press you on such things at this distressing time, but my concern is your son’s health. So I need to ask…Was your wife drinking during her pregnancy?’
    Gus sat back in shock, totally unprepared for the question. ‘No! Absolutely not,’ he refuted, a sick feeling in his stomach.
    There was much about Julia he didn’t know. There had been times when her mercurial temper and unpredictable mood swings had made life especially difficult. But surely he would have noticed something so far amiss?
    ‘There’s no alcohol in the house. I don’t drink, and I never saw Julia drink after she knew she was expecting a child,’ he continued, feeling the gentle squeeze of Holly’s fingers. ‘She found pregnancy difficult—she was quite ill. And she gave up smoking, too. She knew her health was important for the baby.’
    Or so he’d thought.
    Mr Haggerty nodded and wrote a note in the file, but his frown remained. ‘I had to ask, Gus, I’m sorry. There was an almost empty bottle of gin in the car, and tests have revealed that Julia was more than three times over the drink-drive limit. We need to know if this was a one-off aberration or something that might have a longer-term effect on your baby. There’s no evidence of foetal alcohol syndrome, but we’re running tests to be on the safe side.’
    Gus swore under his breath. He was stunned. And angry. Julia had relied on him to take her wherever she’d wanted to go, claiming she didn’t drive, so he had no idea why and how she’d taken his car—or where she’d been. The news that she’d been irresponsible enough to drink excessively before getting behind the wheel astounded and infuriated him. It was bad enough that she’d brought about her own injuries, but to risk the life of others, including her unborn child, was unforgivable.
    He