53
Six MonthsLater
Jem
Swaddledand held against Ruby’s chest, a white blanket shielding her from the cameras, sleeps my beautiful baby girl. The commotion around us as we step from the hospital, and the tears that spring to Ruby’s eyes, surges my anger as I push through the bottom feeders trying to get their pictures.
I grip Ruby’s shoulders. This shouldn’t be happening. The car is parked somewhere close and we’re private. Obviously not private enough. Who bloody leaked this?
“What the fuck? Why are they all here?” I ask.
“Let them have a picture,” says Pippa.
When the latest member of Blue Phoenix’s PR entourage arrives at the hospital and informs us there’s some media interest, she wasn’t joking.
“No fucking way,” I growl. “She doesn’t belong to them; they’re not having her.”
“They might back off if you do,” she suggests.
“Yeah, right,” says Ruby, adjusting the blanket to ensure our daughter stays hidden.
“My car’s parked out the back of the hospital,” I say. “We should’ve just driven instead of Pippa sending someone to pick us up.”
“I don’t care. I just want to go home,” says Ruby, turning back to the building. Her pale face and wide eyes annoy me more—Ruby’s exhausted and doesn’t need this shit.
“You okay? Want me to take her?” I ask.
“We’re fine, Jem.” She ducks her head, allowing her hair to obscure her face as we head back inside.
“Deal with them!” I snap at Pippa and follow Ruby.
A couple of young nurses glance over as we head inside, and then turn back to their conversation. I guess they’re used to famous babies at the exclusive London hospital.
We expected media interest, but not getting mobbed the day after our baby’s birth. This proves again how Ruby and me should stay in our world and do things our way. Why the hell did I allow Blue Phoenix PR in to arrange things? The three of us should’ve snuck out in the first place.
Ruby hovers by the car in the July sunshine, red hair spilling across her short black summer dress, and I kiss her forehead before opening the door.
“I’ll put her in the seat.” I hold my arms out and Ruby gives a small shake of her head, gently placing our daughter into my arms. She makes a strange baby sound, lips moving as if dreaming and I kiss her head, rubbing my nose across the blonde wisps of hair.
“Stop sniffing your daughter and strap her into the car seat. I want to go home,” says Ruby softly.
Awkwardly, I attempt to push tiny arms through straps and figure out how to clip her safely inside. I catch myself against swearing and Ruby places a hand on mine. “I’ll do it.”
I rub my tired eyes, studying how Ruby fixes the seat, then stands back. Now her arms are free, I encompass Ruby in mine and hope I take some of her stress away. “How are you?”
“Not pregnant anymore, thank god. How are you?”
“Apart from the bruises on my arm and the abuse you yelled at me yesterday, I’m great.”
Ruby smiles her magic smile that lights my world. “Yeah, sorry, but I can assure you the birth hurt me a lot more than I hurt you.”
I twist Ruby’s hair from her shoulders and kiss her head, remembering how frightened I was for her yesterday. No way could I go through that and not break someone’s face. I think I’m lucky I escaped with only bruises. “I love you,” I whisper. “Both of you, forever. Our forever.”
“Careful, Jem, you’re moving close to romantic bullshit there.”
“Not bullshit, Ruby Tuesday.”
She hugs me tightly and the tension leaves her shoulders. “Just take us home.”