Mum had warned me against marrying Patrick initially.

"It's too fast, sweetheart," she'd said, the concern practically leaping down the phone at me. "You barely know him. You've only been in England a few months."

"I know him well enough! Mum, I know what I'm doing. He's the One." My mum was a big believer in "The One", and was always consoling me in my heart-broken moments with "he's not the One, honey, don't worry."

Now she seemed less sure of herself. "Lara, I just don't want you to do anything hasty. You've only been dating the guy a few weeks, he sounds a bit… a bit irrational." He was that alright.

"He's wonderful, Mum, if you'd only meet him…" I pleaded. I'd gone through too much to have my parents put a downer on things. "We're both owed some leave, we could come and visit."

Eventually Mum had come around to it. She was utterly besotted with Patrick, and was practically knitting booties by the time we had to return home. I didn't want to shatter her illusions.

It wasn't just my mum. Other people thought we were moving very fast. People at work and friends from university all said it was a whirlwind romance. I didn't care. I didn't want to live without Patrick in my life for another single second if I could help it. I'd tried living without him, it just didn't work. But I could never have explained that to anyone.


Patrick's car rolled into the drive. I'd been waiting for it all afternoon, barely moving from the spot I was sitting on. I knew the sound of his engine so well; no one else had a car like Patrick. I was already standing as it came to a halt and I didn't hang around. I didn't want him knowing I'd been waiting for him. I took myself into the kitchen, where I'd set my laptop up hours ago to start writing a talk I was giving the following week for the hospital trust. So far I had "As SHO on the ED department…" A great start.

The key turned in the lock, and I forced myself not to run out to him. Instead, I stayed put. "Hi ya."

"Hey." His voice sounded strange, and strained. I couldn't quite place what was wrong. He was putting bags down in the hallway. No doubt I'd have to put them away later. I heard the television go on in the living room and then his footsteps down the hallway.

I turned in my chair to face him. "You're early."

"The traffic wasn't too bad for once." His face was grey. He looked awful.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." My mind jumped to conclusions. Maybe he had, maybe he had some second sight that meant that he could see Holly even though she was dead. I'd begun believing in even more outrageous things in the last few years.

He met my eyes and looked… guilty? He swallowed. "Lara, I don't want you to go mad. I just… I need to tell you something. It's not easy."

I frowned. "What? Tell me."

He took a deep breath. "I… I didn't tell you everything last night. I didn't mention… Oh, come with me." He beckoned me towards him, and like a fool, I followed him. Back down the hall and to the living room door. Where a small brown haired girl was sitting on our sofa, clutching a stuffed dog and watching a kids' show.

"Her name's Daisy. She's three."

I looked from her to Patrick and I knew it deep down before I even asked. "Is she…?"

Patrick nodded gravely. "She's mine."