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The next morning, as soon as I open my eyes, I know I’m in trouble.
I barely make it to the bathroom before I throw up, vomiting whatever’s left in my stomach into the toilet. I retch and I retch. When I’m finally done, I rinse out my mouth and sink onto the toilet seat.
I sit with my head in my hands for a few minutes. Then I get up, go into the bedroom, and retrieve my purse. I take it into the bathroom and extract the pregnancy test I bought yesterday, and read the instructions. Apparently it’s ninety-nine percent accurate.
With shaking hands, I take off the wrapper and pee on the stick. Then I let it sit there while I wash my hands.
After the longest three minutes in the history of mankind, I check the result. In the box is one clear word.
Pregnant.
I sink back onto the toilet seat. I knew, of course. My cycle is a little longer than average, but even for me, forty-two days is extreme. Realistically, I’m around ten days late.
I’d hoped that all the hassle of the past week—the grief and shock following Maddie’s death, and the stress of looking after Kathy and dealing with Cam—might have been the reason I was late. But I should have known better. All week, I’ve been hoping my period might appear, hoping that the symptoms—sore breasts, tiredness—were just a sign of PMS. But deep down, I knew.
And now I’m in love with one guy and pregnant by another. I don’t love Cam anymore. I’m convinced of that. But it’s not just about me now. I have to think about the baby.
I wouldn’t want to bring up another man’s child. Henry’s words ring in my head. Ever since he said that I’ve felt a sense of futility settle deep inside me. He’s not going to want me if I’m having Cam’s baby. He isn’t a choice for me anymore. My choice is now Cam or nobody. Stay with a guy in a broken relationship. Or bring up the baby on my own.
And now I start crying for real.
*
I ring Alex and call in sick. He’s concerned, but obviously hears the emotion in my voice and doesn’t press me. “Take as long as you want,” he says, “and let us know if we can do anything.”
Half an hour later, I get a text from Henry. Hey, Alex said you’re unwell. How are you doing?
I can’t keep ignoring him, so I message him back. Yeah, just a bit under the weather, that’s all. J.
I send it before I can add a kiss.
He doesn’t come back.
I cry again.
*
I get up and go through to the kitchen. Roy’s there, eating a slice of toast and drinking a cup of tea, but when I walk in, he picks it up and leaves the room. Heart sinking, I put more toast on, butter a slice and make a cup of tea, and take it through to Kathy. She’s awake, lying there pale and listless.
“When’s Cam coming home?” she asks.
“Soon,” I promise. “A day or two.”
“I miss him,” she whispers.
“Yeah, well, it won’t be long now.”
“You do still love him, don’t you?” she asks me.
I stare at her, shocked by her query, and unsure how to answer. I don’t want to upset her, but I’m not going to lie. “Don’t you worry about that,” I tell her. “Eat your toast and then let’s see about getting you up and about.” I leave the room before she can push me further.
Cam messages me mid-morning to tell me that Em is home and doing well. Alan is being released Wednesday, and he wants to wait so he can bring him home too. So he’s booked a flight home for Thursday.
I don’t want to wait that long, but I don’t have a choice. I feel bad for making him come home when Alan and Em could probably do with him staying there, but I need to talk to him, and I need him to be here and sort his parents out. So I stop myself from doing what I’d normally do—tell him to stay as long as he needs—and just text back Thank you, see you then.
*
In the end, I speak to Alex and decide to take the whole week off. Most of the staff don’t start until next week, and my deputy, Claire, is happy to start the ball rolling for me and begin scheduling appointments, so it’s not absolutely necessary that I go in. I need to sort myself out first. I need to speak to Henry. More than anything, I want to talk to him. But this is Cam’s baby, and I owe it to him to tell him first. I need to see his reaction, and then I can decide what I’m going to do.
