She would have been happy to never lay eyes on Sam Strachan again. After the events of the summer there was a distinct possibility that she would do him some permanent damage if she did. Who could blame her? After all he had taken off to New York without so much as a second glance, taking their daughter with him. Contact between the waring pair had been limited to occasions where he had answered the telephone instead of Grace, or he'd been around whilst she was facetiming her daughter and they had to exchange pleasantries so as not to alert her daughter to the deep sense of loathing she now had for the man.
Yet now she found herself on a cold February night stood in arrivals of Heathrow Airport waiting for him to emerge through the doors with Grace. There was no mistaking her excitement at seeing Grace, she had missed her daughter more than she could articulate since she had been in New York but that didn't make the thought of seeing Sam any easier. She'd also had little time to prepare for the visit, Grace had phoned her just a few hours previously from the airport to say they were coming to visit, she had begged her mother to meet them at the airport. Naturally she had obliged, not wanting to set the visit from her daughter off on the wrong foot. But she was terrified all the same, for she had a secret, a secret she had been keeping from both Grace and Sam for quite some time now. A secret she would no longer be able to keep hidden once they arrived.
As she saw people beginning to appear through the doors she readjusted her clothing once more. The oversized coat and scarf working well in combination to mask for now her extended abdomen. Her eyes scanned the hordes of people, searching out the one person she wanted to see. Eventually as the crowds began to tail off, she saw her. Her perfect miniature. A beaming smile appeared on both females faces as their eyes locked. Immediately Grace dropped the suitcase she held in her hand, hoping her father would pick them up, she sprinted as fast as her feet would carry her in the direction of her mother, throwing herself into her arms. Connie's eyes pricked with tears at the progress her daughter had made since her accident as she wrapped her arms tightly around her, kissing the top of her head, "I've missed you so much Gracie" she murmured into her hair. Before she had the chance to say anything more, Grace had wriggled backwards slightly, the young girl's hands moving around to either side of her mother's swollen stomach.
"Mum?" she looked up questioningly. Connie's hands positioned themselves over Grace's gently guiding them to the location she could feel her unborn baby wriggling inside of her. A gasp escaped her daughter's lips as she too felt the movements from within.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, you're not mad, are you? I didn't know how to tell you over the phone." Connie asked, the truth being that she'd wanted to keep the news from Sam for as long as possible so had found herself in turn unable to tell her eldest child.
"I'm not mad. But I'm glad I know now." Once again, she threw her arms around her Mother. Looking over her shoulder to her father who was now close by. Subconsciously Connie moved her scarf once more, hoping to disguise her bump again, but Sam had already clocked it.
He too had been dreading seeing Connie but being powerless to his daughter's persuasive techniques he had agreed for them to visit the UK for her to see her Mother. He was fully aware that the moment he laid eyes on Connie the love he felt for her would come rushing back. The love he feared admitting was there. He knew it was the reason he had run away once more to America. His mind raced as he took in the features of her face. She looked magnificent, she was glowing. Then he saw it, her rounded abdomen. Questions raced through his mind, but he didn't let them escape, they could wait, for now.
"Dad, look," Grace shifted the scarf which was now covering her mother's stomach. "I'm going to be a big sister."
"Congratulations, Connie." He smiled slightly, taking in the size of her bump. His mind running overtime equating it to when she was pregnant with Grace, the question of if the baby could be his consuming him.
"Er, thank you." She responded, her hand subconsciously travelling to her bump before she quickly changed the subject and turned her attention back to Grace. "Shall we head to the car, you must be very tired after the flight. I always find travelling so exhausting." Her arm slipped around her daughter's back as she turned her towards the airport doors and began to walk.
The drive back to Holby was uneventful. So much remained unsaid between Sam and Connie. He found his eyes kept resting on her, on her stomach. He was desperate to ask her about the baby but hadn't wanted to in front of Grace. As they finally pulled on driveway she glanced into the rear-view mirror, seeing that Grace was fast asleep behind her. Leaving Sam to manage the bags himself she carefully helped her daughter from the car and up to her bedroom. The same bedroom that had not changed a bit since she had left all those months previously.
As Grace snuggled down into her duvet, Connie perched on the bed beside her. Gently she stroked her hair off her face as she leant down to kiss her. "Sleep well little one." She sat for a while watching her whilst she stroked her bump, she told herself she was staying put because she missed Grace and wanted to enjoy having her there, but in truth, it was because she was avoiding the inevitable conversation she was going to have to have with Sam.
As she eventually descended the stairs she was met by him in her hallway. "Connie, we need to talk." She firmly shook her head at him, walking away into her kitchen.
"We do. You… you're" he gestured towards her, losing the confidence from his voice.
"Yes Sam, I'm pregnant," she turned to face him, her hands protectively covering her bump as she felt her son, move once again inside her, "But I don't see what it has to do with you."
"Is it mine?" he asked, as his eyes met hers.
"No." she lied, turning away from him once more, not wanting to see his face. She looked down to her stomach, she couldn't bear to tell him the baby was his, for she feared he would take him away from her, just like he had taken Grace. This baby was her second chance. This time she was going to get it right.
"Look at me in the eyes, Connie… and tell me the baby isn't mine." He pressed.
As she turned her eyes glistened, she struggled to remain in control as her eyes met his, her hands clasped tightly to her stomach. "He's my baby."
"But is he mine too?"
"No!" she insisted, before her tone softened "The baby isn't yours." She watched as he nodded dejectedly as he left the room, guilt sitting itself firmly in the pit of her stomach.