‘Well, that makes things easier,’ said Bex. There was no response from Megan. ‘I’ve got an appointment with the doctor later this morning. I’m going to ask to be referred for a termination.’
Megan’s head whipped round. ‘You what?’
‘It’s the only way if it’s going to make you so unhappy.’
‘Like killing a baby is going to make things better.’
‘It’s not a baby – not yet.’
‘It is. I don’t care what you say, I’ve read stuff in magazines, I’ve seen pictures and you can’t.’ Megan’s voice was getting shrill.
Bex was tempted to tell Megan that she could; that it wasn’t Megan’s decision to make, but maybe now wasn’t the moment to have the conversation when things were all too raw. She wished she hadn’t put off making an appointment for so long. She wished she’d gone to see Dr Connolly as soon as she had a suspicion of what was going on – before Miles and Megan had found out; when it was only her decision to make. If only… if only…
Bex crossed the room and sat on the end of Megan’s bed. ‘I don’t have to see the doctor today,’ she said, quietly. ‘I can cancel the appointment. I… I thought…’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I thought.’
‘You thought you could get away with it, without me finding out,’ said Megan.
‘Maybe.’
Megan curled up and looked at the wall again. ‘I don’t know how you can live with yourself.’ She whipped her head round. ‘How could you have done that to Dad? How could you have done?’
‘It doesn’t mean I don’t love your father any the less. You can love more than one person at a time – just like I love you and the boys.’
‘Huh.’ There was silence for a few seconds. ‘So, do you love Miles?’
Bex was startled. It was a question she hadn’t even really asked herself. ‘He’s a good man. I’m very fond of him.’
‘Well, that’s obvious given that you slept with him.’
Bex wanted to tell Megan that it hadn’t been like that and nor was she a nun. Being a widow didn’t mean an automatic vow of celibacy; Richard was only a memory now and she couldn’t have sex with a memory, be held by a memory, be kissed by a memory…
‘Look,’ she said. ‘If you’d like, I can cancel today’s appointment and maybe, when we’ve both had a chance to calm down, we can talk about it. There’s no desperate urgency – I’m only about six or seven weeks pregnant.’
‘But you’ve made your mind up, haven’t you? You want rid of it.’
‘I thought it would be better for you… in the long run. And you’re right, I didn’t want you to find out. I thought I could sort all of this by myself except, somehow, someone blabbed my news all over the town. Until then I thought it was going to be my body, my decision.’
‘And the baby? Doesn’t the baby get a vote?’
‘I think there are quite enough people with a vote already,’ said Bex. She changed the subject. ‘Do you want something for your headache?’
‘Yeah, please.’
Bex went down to her bathroom, got a couple of ibuprofen out of her medicine cabinet and filled a glass with water. She returned to Megan’s room and put them on the bedside table. ‘I’ll go and ring the doctor; postpone seeing him until we’ve had time to talk.’
‘Whatever,’ said Megan who was back facing the wall again.
Wearily, Bex returned downstairs and rang the surgery. The receptionist didn’t sound best pleased that Bex didn’t want her appointment. ‘But at least you’ve had the common courtesy to let us know,’ she said. ‘Precious few do.’
Bex ended the call and mulled over her conversation with Megan and tried to decide which would upset her stepdaughter the least: to carry on with the pregnancy or to have a termination? Talk about being on the horns of a dilemma. She made herself a cup of tea and had a desultory tidy-up of the downstairs which mostly involved collecting up all the Lego bricks from the four corners of the sitting room and beyond, after the boys’ rumbustious game with their friends the previous evening.
She was killing time making a shopping list, before her shift at the pub, when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
‘Oh,’ said Megan. ‘You’re still here.’
‘I don’t start till eleven thirty,’ said Bex. ‘Can I get you anything?’
Megan shook her head.
‘How’s the headache?’
‘A bit better.’
‘I’m glad.’ An awkward silence followed. ‘Do you feel better enough to go back to school?’
‘Not really.’
‘OK. Are you missing anything important?’
‘Nothing I can’t catch up with off Soph.’
‘Look… about what’s happened…’
‘What?’ Megan’s voice was sullen.
‘I never meant for anyone to find out.’
‘Really.’
‘Yes, really.’
‘So you didn’t think about, like, the morning-after pill.’
‘I thought Miles and I had been careful.’
Megan rolled her eyes. ‘Shit, Bex, you’re a grown-up. Didn’t you even think it might be a good idea – you know, just in case?’
Bex was aware of a growing resentment about being lectured by her stepdaughter about contraception but she battened it down. ‘Maybe in hindsight… But we are where we are.’
‘Up shit creek.’
Well, they agreed on something. Bex nodded. ‘Look, Megan, the reason I didn’t want you to find out was because I knew you’d be hurt… and probably angry.’
‘You’re not wrong there.’ Her tone of voice underlined her emotion.
‘And that’s why I thought that maybe… well, a termination would be for the best.’
‘For you, you mean.’
‘And you.’
‘Don’t you use me as an excuse. If you want to kill a baby, you go right ahead, but I’m having no part in this decision.’
‘You’d rather I kept it?’ Bex was confused.
‘As an alternative to what you’ve got planned – yes.’
*
Heather rang the bell of Olivia’s new house. She had no idea if Olivia would be in or not, not now her friend worked shifts up at the hotel. The door opened – good.
‘Hi, Olivia, is this a good time?’ said Heather.
‘Perfect. Come in. Lovely to see you. Apart from at church, our paths never seem to cross these days.’
‘I know. And I miss you on my committees.’ Six months ago, Heather wouldn’t have ever believed that she would say such a thing, but it was true. Olivia could be opinionated and stubborn but, boy, she got things done.
‘How’s the bell fund?’ said Olivia as she led the way through to the kitchen-diner.
‘Getting there. The Heritage Lottery Fund is looking very hopeful. Brian and I have to work out how we can involve the community but the schools and groups like the Scouts and Guides seem to be keen to learn about change-ringing and we’re planning on producing a booklet about the history of our bells so it’s all coming together.’
‘As long,’ said Olivia, ‘as you’re allowed to teach kids about change-ringing because, if that Osborne woman gets her way, your plans will go belly up.’
‘Don’t,’ groaned Heather. ‘But… talking of that Osborne woman, I thought she was going to wind up in the clink yesterday.’
‘No! Tell.’
Heather related the incident at the market. ‘She certainly knows how to make herself popular. First the bells, then the wind turbine, now making waves at the market… And what is happening about the turbine?’
‘It’s all legal,’ said Olivia, gloomily. ‘I guessed it would be and, as far as the council knows, the contractors will be arriving in the next few days to erect it. I’m rather hoping they’ll get it monumentally wrong and the whole thing falls on her roof in the first winter storm.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Heather. ‘It’s an idea. I’m not sure I can ask Brian to intercede on
your behalf, though.’
‘I don’t want anyone killed,’ added Olivia.
‘Absolutely not.’ Heather grinned.
‘And how’s my daughter?’
There was a momentary pause before Heather said, a bit too brightly, ‘Fine.’
‘Don’t lie,’ said Olivia. ‘Truthfully…?’
‘Challenging. She’s not the tidiest tenant.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Olivia.
‘Don’t be.’
‘I’ll have a word.’
‘No. She’s our problem now. Brian is going to talk to her, set down some house rules. We should have done it from the start.’
‘Good luck with that.’
‘You’re not to worry. We get the rent, it’s up to us to make it work.’
‘Kids, eh?’
‘And talking of kids, have you heard anything about Bex?’
‘Like what?’
‘I heard it from Amy that she’s expecting a baby.’
Olivia’s eyes popped. ‘No!’
‘Well… according to Amy…’
‘Even so, that’s not the sort of thing even Amy would come out with, without there being some basis of truth. Although, she did confide in Belinda that she thinks Ash might be gay because he’s so keen on acting.’
‘Ash? Not if I’m any judge,’ said Heather.
‘No, I don’t think so either but you know what Amy’s like. If she can add up two and two and make seven and three quarters, she will. But even I don’t think Amy would make it up about Bex. And I saw Belinda the other morning and she said Bex hadn’t been well – a sick bug.’ She gave Heather a knowing look.
‘Goodness. And the thing is,’ said Heather, slowly, ‘what we don’t know is whether it’s a cause for celebration or not.’
‘No,’ said Olivia.
‘I was wondering… do you think I ought to pop round?’
‘On what pretext?’
‘Same as I used on you this morning – that I haven’t seen her for an age.’
‘I suppose. If she wants to talk she will, if not, you can blag a cuppa off her and have a bit of a chat. Go for it, I say.’
*
Bex banged on the door to the pub which was opened after a few seconds by Belinda.
‘So,’ said Bex, without preamble, stamping in with a scowl on her face, ‘Who did you tell?’
‘You’ve lost me,’ said Belinda, closing and locking the door.
‘About me being pregnant? Bert knew, he’d heard it off Mags and now both Miles and Megan know. And, knowing this town like I do, probably everyone else does.’ Her anger threatened to turn into tears.
Belinda’s forehead creased as she put her hands up. ‘Not me. I didn’t breathe a word, honest, and I certainly didn’t tell Mags.’
‘Well, someone did and as you are the only person on the planet who knew besides me…’
‘I don’t know how to make it any clearer, but I didn’t tell a soul. I wouldn’t. It’s not what friends do to each other.’
‘OK, I believe you.’ Although she wasn’t sure she did, because if it wasn’t Belinda, who the hell else was it?
‘And I’m sorry.’
‘Not as sorry as I am.’ Bex explained about the reaction of Miles and Megan.
‘Jeez,’ breathed Belinda. ‘Messy.’
‘That’s one word for it,’ agreed Bex. ‘“Absolute fucking disaster” are three more.’
Chapter 28
Megan heard her stepmother go out to work and came downstairs again. The analgesics had worked, her headache had almost disappeared and she was peckish. She mooched into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. She considered the contents – nothing much that didn’t need cooking. She picked out a lump of cheddar and then rummaged in the bread bin. A cheese and pickle sandwich would have to do. Not bothering with a plate or a chopping board she made her snack and, oblivious of the trail of crumbs that followed her, she went into the sitting room, flopped on the sofa and switched on the TV. Idly she flicked through the channels as she ate her sandwich – Jeez, the dross. She switched the TV off again, tossed the remote onto the table and slumped back on the cushions.
Her phone pinged. A text from Ashley.
Watkins wants 2 no if u feel well enough 2 come in after school. Wants 2 see us 2 discuss costumes.
If Megan were totally truthful with herself, she probably felt well enough to go back into school right now. Besides, there was nothing to do at home and the lessons timetabled for the afternoon were English and history – both of which she quite liked. She made her mind up, found her school bag and let herself back out of the house.
She signed back in at reception fifteen minutes later and went to the library to wait for the school bell to signal the start of the lunch break. She drifted over to the reference side of the library and looked at the books about child development. It wasn’t a subject she’d opted to take – choosing drama instead – but some of her friends were studying it. Megan had always argued that, with two much younger brothers, she’d seen quite enough of it at first hand to want to do it at school too. She’d been seven when Lewis had been born and, while it had been fun to have a proper ‘living doll’ to play with and help change and feed, the novelty had worn off quite fast – especially when his crying woke her up in the night. And now that almost six years had passed since Alfie’s arrival, her recollections of what it was like to have a baby in the house were a bit fuzzy. She picked a book off the shelf and flicked through it. The babies in the pictures were quite cute, she decided, before she slapped the book shut and shoved it back on the shelf. It didn’t matter how cute babies were – it didn’t alter the fact her stepmother had slept with Miles. Ugh.
The bell rang and Megan went off to meet her classmates as they exited from maths.
‘You feeling better?’ said Ashley as they walked along a corridor and headed for the canteen.
‘A bit. It was only a headache.’
‘Miss Watkins is well excited about the designs for the costumes the art department has come up with. She wants an extra meeting of the drama group tonight to get us measured up.’
Megan shrugged.
‘Aren’t you keen to see what we’ve got to wear?’ asked Ashley.
‘Not really.’
Ashley looked at her. ‘I don’t get you. Don’t you want to be in the panto, because you’re behaving like a right old wet weekend.’
Megan rounded on him. ‘I do! You’re just so self-obsessed with your part and being liberated and all arty and poncy you can’t see that everyone else’s lives aren’t all hunky-dory.’
Other kids streaming along the passageway stared at the pair in curiosity.
‘Me? Self-obsessed?’ shouted Ashley back at Megan.
‘You so are!’ she countered.
Sophie appeared at Megan’s elbow. ‘Come on, Megs, leave him.’ She tugged on Megan’s arm.
Megan gave Ashley a parting snarl and followed her friend.
‘Come on,’ repeated Sophie. ‘Let’s go and get some lunch.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Well, I am.’
As they reached the canteen the hubbub of voices became louder. The two girls joined the queue to be served.
‘So what was all that about?’ said Sophie as she pushed her tray along the counter.
‘Nothing.’
Sophie grabbed a plate of quiche and salad. ‘Nothing?’ She headed for the queue to pay. ‘You sure you’re not hungry?’
Megan shook her head. ‘I’ll bag a table.’
A few minutes later Sophie joined her and sat down next to her. ‘Look,’ she said, shovelling in a mouthful of cheese and onion tart, ‘I get that this panto is a shedload of work but you’ve got to look at the bigger picture. It’s going to be such fun to be up on that stage – performing to everyone.’ Sophie sighed enviously. ‘And you’re going to be the star. God, Megs, what I’d give to be in your shoes.’
‘You wouldn’t think that if you knew
.’
‘I’m not with you.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Morosely Megan picked a bit of tomato off Sophie’s plate.
‘So, it’s not the panto.’
Megan shook her head.
Sophie ate another mouthful. ‘You’re not getting bullied again, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, Megs. I can’t help if I don’t know what the matter is.’
‘You wouldn’t be able to help if you did know.’
‘Suit yourself.’ Sophie ate another mouthful and another. The silence stretched.
Megan could bear it no more. ‘It’s just…’
‘Just what?’
‘It’s Bex.’
Sophie put her fork down. ‘Shit, Megan, she’s not ill, is she?’
‘God, if only.’
Sophie glared at Megan. ‘Don’t say that. If you only knew… I mean, you know how hard it is for me and my mum.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.’
Sophie shook her head. ‘So?’
Megan leaned in towards Sophie and lowered her voice. ‘She’s expecting a baby.’
Sophie almost choked. ‘What?’
Megan nodded. ‘Which means she and Miles must have…’ She shuddered. ‘I mean, how could she? How could she go with someone? I thought she loved Dad.’ Megan’s eyes filled and she blinked back the tears.
Sophie didn’t know what to say so she put an arm around Megan and gave her a hug.
Across the room Ashley watched and wondered what was upsetting her so much.
*
The designs for the costumes that Miss Watkins presented to the cast after school were, they all agreed, pretty lush.
‘And the A-level textiles group have agreed to make them,’ she told her performers.
The children pored over the sheets of A4 cartridge paper, trying to imagine what they’d look like in them. Megan had three changes: the rags in the opening scenes, the ballgown and a wedding dress for the finale. Ashley and Dan, the other ugly sister, only had two costumes but both so outrageously over-the-top that they would be likely to steal any scene they appeared in. The other costumes, in comparison, were positively subfusc.
The Bells of Little Woodford Page 21