Free The Baby Verdict by Cathy Williams

less-than-stunning picture she presented with her runny, red nose and her hair flopping every which way as though it hadn’t seen a comb in years.
    â€˜How are you feeling?’ he asked, and her scowl deepened. It was eleven-thirty in the morning, she was still in her pyjamas and dressing gown, the kitchen was proudly sporting dishes that had not been washed for two days. It seemed a particularly stupid question. ‘Everyone’s very concerned about you. They seem to have been under the illusion that you have an in-built immunity to ill health.’ He grinned slightly. ‘Naturally I rushed over because if that’s the case you’re about to go down in medical history. There could be a fortune in it for you.’
    â€˜I feel the way I look,’ she told him, pulling her robe tighter around her and reaching behind with one hand to try and get her hair into some sort of order. ‘Congratulations, by the way. I read several versions of it in the newspapers.’ She gave him a wry look. ‘Not that it would take a genius to work out what the outcome had been. You’ll have to be careful not to blind people with your high spirits.’
    â€˜Mind if I come in? It’s freezing out here. Won’t do your cold any good at all if you have to stand by an open door having a conversation with me.’
    Come in? A social call? He stared at her, refusing to be willed away, until she eventually stood aside to let him in, then she shoved the door shut behind her.
    â€˜I’m not good with people when I’m ill,’ she told his back as he headed in the direction of the sitting room, for all the world as though he belonged there. ‘I’m snappy, short-tempered and I’d really rather just be left alone to get on with my recuperation.’ She stood with her hands on her hips and watched as he removed his jacket, dropped it inelegantly on the coffee-table, and then settled into a chair.
    â€˜Yes, quite a victory.’ He didn’t pause to let her answer. ‘As you couldn’t make it to the court, I thought I’d drop by to congratulate you personally on the result.’
    â€˜I didn’t do it on my own,’ Jessica informed him, thawing slightly but still not enough to view his presence in the house with warmth. ‘We all worked very hard to make sure that it got resolved as quickly as possible.’
    â€˜And I have congratulated them all myself.’
    â€˜Right That’s very good of you.’ She paused and sneezed, fishing a tissue out of the pocket of her dressing gown.
    â€˜Have you been to a doctor?’
    He wasn’t going to oblige by vanishing through the front door. Jessica reluctantly sat down on the sofa and tucked her feet underneath her.
    She would never have admitted it in a million years, but the thought of being seen by him in all her snuffling lack of glory was enough to make her cringe with self-consciousness. She had always maintained that the body was infinitely less important than the mind, but right now she would have given her right arm to at least have had the foresight to have changed into normal clothes earlier on. Instead of blearily thinking that it involved just too much effort.
    â€˜Doctors can’t do anything for viruses,’ she said. ‘You just have to wait for them to take their course.’
    â€˜You look a wreck.’
    â€˜Oh, thank you very much,’ Jessica replied, knowing that it was perfectly true, but nonetheless not caring for his observation. ‘It did occur to me when I got up this morning that I should camouflage my red nose under six layers of cleverly applied make-up, but my eyes were watering too much for me to see what I was doing, and I gave up halfway through. ’Course, if I’d known that I was going to be bombarded with visitors, I might have persisted in my efforts.’
    â€˜Tut-tut. You certainly weren’t kidding when you said that all good humour