by Susan Lewis
Wishing she knew what she felt, Julia merely looked down at her hands.
Fen glanced at her watch. 'I'm sorry, but I have to get back to the office,' she said. 'We can talk again tonight, if you like.'
'I've taken up so much of your time already.' 'It's one of the blessings about having your children in school all week and your husband working all hours,' Fen replied, going to put on her coat, 'you have plenty of evenings to yourself.' After tugging on her boots she straightened up and said, 'I'll bring something decadent home, shall I, like fish and chips or pizza?' Then seeing Julia's expression, she smiled. 'No appetite?' Julia shook her head.
'That'll probably change once the cravings kick in.'
Not even wanting to think that far ahead, Julia got up to see her out.
'Listen,' Fen said, before opening the door, 'why don't you make an appointment to see a doctor? You won't have to commit to anything, it'll just be for a chat, so he can tell you what a termination actually involves. Maybe then, you'll be in a better position to decide.'
'You could be right,' Julia agreed. 'Do you know anyone?'
'Around here I know everyone, and there's an excellent private clinic just outside Truro. I'm on first-name terms with a couple of the doctors there, so I'll make the appointment for you, if you like. I'll even come with you, but I won't be free
now until Saturday morning. Can you wait that long?'
'For something like this I could wait for ever,' Julia responded dryly, 'but a day and a half's fine.'
'Will you tell Josh?'
Julia's heart turned over. 'I don't know what I'll tell Josh,' she answered. 'I just know I've never been good at keeping secrets from him.'
'Well, to quote your own father,' Fen said, hugging her, 'sometimes secrets are best left untold.'
After she'd gone Julia went to check the messages on the machine, even though she knew there were none. A quick dial of 1471 told her that the last caller hadn't been Josh, but he'd let her know this morning, before she'd done the test, that he might not have time to speak again until this evening.
She picked up her mobile to check that for messages too, but though there was nothing new, there was still the text that had come from Shannon earlier saying good morning. That had been quite a breakthrough, since it was the first unprompted communication she'd made in weeks.
Since it was still not quite two o'clock, and Josh hadn't mentioned meeting anyone for lunch, she took a chance that he might be working through, and dialled his direct number. She wasn't sure what she intended to say, she simply felt the need to hear his voice.
'Hi darling,' he said, when he heard hers. 'You beat me to it. I was just about to ring you. Vanessa Keyes left a message earlier, wanting to know if we're going to take tickets for the Christmas ball this year.'
Julia's heart started a dull, horrible thud. 'Do you want to?' she asked.
'We usually do,' he replied, 'but if you'd rather not...'
'No, it's not that. Did she mention anything about dinner next week?'
'Yes, actually, she did. I said we were still up for it, but...'
'I think we should cancel,' she said, and tensed in readiness for his explosion.
But it didn't come. Instead he said, 'Julia, please tell me what's going on. Is he there with you? Is that what this is about?'
'No!' she cried. 'He's not in my life any more.' Then realising that wasn't strictly true, she said, 'I don't want him, I want you.'
'Then why are you still there? You're hiding something from me, that much is clear, so for God's sake tell me what it is.'
'I can't, Josh. I'm sorry, I just can't.' 'Julia, I'm going out of my mind here. You can't keep doing this. I have to know what's happening ...'
'Nothing's happening. I swear it.' 'Then why won't you come back?' 'Because ...' Her breath caught on a sob. 'I'm sorry, I don't know how to tell you this ...' 'Just say it!'
She took a breath and closed her eyes tightly, as though somehow that would hold the devastation back from the words. It was impossible though, and she knew it, so in the end, unable to put him through any more confusion and doubt, whilst aware she was about to push him into a far worse
hell, she braced herself and said, 'I'm pregnant, Josh. I'm going to have a baby.'
The silence that followed was more excruciating than anything she'd ever known in her life. She could see him sitting at his desk, taking almost no time to figure out that the baby couldn't be his, then reeling from all the implications that would come crowding in on him. She could hardly bear to think of his pain, or to know what was going through his mind, yet she would almost welcome his anger, anything rather than this awful, terrible, silence. But it stretched on and on, until eventually she realised he'd hung up.
After putting the phone down Josh continued to sit at his desk. The echo of her words was still there, along with the reality of their meaning, but he was holding it all at a distance, afraid to let it in, for fear of what he might do once he did.
He got up and walked to the window, and as he gazed down into the street he found himself imagining scenarios he'd never dreamt himself capable of, for he'd never been a violent man, but the thought of the Italian's child inside his wife ... He recoiled from the horror of it, then hearing Marina returning from lunch, he picked up his coat and left, with no idea of where he was going. He only knew that he couldn't carry on with this day as though his entire future hadn't just been blown apart.
Once in the car he headed for the Cromwell Road, and for one wild moment he considered following it out to the M4, then the M5 and all the way down to Cornwall. But what would he do
when he got there? He could change nothing, and for now it was best that he didn't see her.
As he pulled up in Abbotsbury Road, alongside Holland Park, his mobile started to ring. Seeing it was her, he turned the phone off and stepped out of the car.
The park was almost deserted, just a few hardy dog-walkers, and a couple of mothers trundling pushchairs along the leaf-strewn paths. He walked around the Orangerie, then in through the arcades with their Victorian picnic frescoes, and on to the pond where he sat down on a bench and welcomed the bite of the wind, as though its icy edge might anaesthetise what was going on inside him.
For a long time he merely stared through the glistening cascades of a fountain to the grand windows of the Belvedere restaurant, where they'd celebrated several anniversaries over the years. He hadn't proposed to her there, he'd done that one hot summer's night at The Gate cinema in Notting Hill, during The Year of Living Dangerously.
'Would you fancy doing that with only me for the rest of your life?' he'd whispered as Mel Gibson got it on with Sigourney Weaver in the back of a car.
'Yes,' she'd whispered back without missing a beat.
A few minutes later, after the crucial moment was over, they'd annoyed everyone by getting up and creeping along the row, until she began telling people that he'd just proposed and she'd accepted. They'd left a lot of smiling faces behind them that night, but the one he would always remember was
hers, as he'd made love to her later, under the stars in this very park.
Now he wondered if he'd ever make love to her again. The idea that he might not folded around his insides as though to close him down altogether. He tried to focus his thoughts elsewhere, but there was nowhere else, only her and their children, everything in the world that mattered to him. He found himself remembering her when she was carrying Shannon and Dan, the womanly swell of her and how he'd never been able to get enough of looking at her. He recalled the many times he'd found her asleep while feeding them, and the love and pride he'd felt while standing watching her, almost unable to believe that this beautiful woman and delicate little child were really his.
Unlike so many men he'd never felt pushed out by his children, probably because she hadn't allowed it to happen, nor had he ever been bored or irritated by family demands. They were the very centre of his life, what gave it meaning and purpose; though of co
urse, he and Julia had had their difficulties and challenges, and the fury with which they sometimes fought could occasionally even outdo the passion with which they made love. Thinking now of how deeply sensual and erotic their intimate life had always been, how demanding, and completely fulfilling, made it hard to understand how they'd come to this. Yet he knew very well that had he not turned to Sylvia, it was very unlikely Julia would be carrying another man's child.
So much pain and jealousy was churning inside him, and fear, and more urges to violence. He'd
always considered her body exclusively his, never to be touched by anyone but him, as his was for her. It was hard to accept how badly they'd let each other down, but he was to blame. None of it would have happened had he not yielded to Sylvia's suggestion, convincing himself that it would do no harm. Well, he was paying for it now, with a price so bitter that he could only wonder what his life would be worth after she'd taken the children and gone to her Italian, which was presumably what she'd do once their marriage was over.
Of course, he wouldn't let her take Shannon and Dan, nor would Shannon be willing to go once she knew the truth, though the thought gave him no comfort at all, for the last thing he wanted was to tear her and Julia apart. As mother and daughter they belonged together. As a family they all did, and it was his role, his duty to see that they stayed that way. It was what he wanted more than anything, but he only had to think of her getting bigger and bigger as the months passed, filling out with a child that wasn't his, to know he couldn't do it. Maybe some men could, but he wasn't one of them. Even looking at her would be hard, while living every day with the truth, lying next to her in bed each night, sometimes attempting to make love to her as though everything was normal, would be virtually impossible. And once the child was born, he could no more imagine himself taking care of it as his own than he could accept the idea of its father ever coming to visit. He didn't have it in him to be that kind of man, nor was he going to pretend he did.
So the only answer, if she wanted to save their marriage, was for her to get rid of the child now, but she'd know that already, and though he might desperately want to demand it, he knew he had no rights here. And even if he did try to force her, what then? They'd no doubt end up with the hideous situation of her never being able to forgive him, so what kind of marriage would that leave them with?
In the end, needing to escape this nightmare pattern of thoughts, he got to his feet and started back to the car. His limbs were stiff with cold, his insides tense with suppressed emotion, but as he walked he barely noticed his discomfort. All he knew was the mounting despondency inside him, for whichever way he looked at it, whether she kept the baby or not, he could see virtually no chance of them making it now.
There were several messages on his mobile when he got back to the car, mostly from Marina, but none from Julia, which disappointed him, though he was still far from ready to talk. He wondered what she was doing now, and how she was. Clearly she wouldn't be in a happy frame of mind, for no matter how strong her feelings might be for the Italian, nothing would ever convince him they were stronger than those for Shannon and Dan.
By eight o'clock that evening he still hadn't spoken to her, nor was he any keener to do so. He merely returned home from work, so worn out by the constant fight with his emotions that it was all he could do to pour himself a drink and not snap his mother's head off when she complained that
dinner would be spoiled if they didn't all sit down right away. The last thing he wanted was to eat, but he could feel the children's eyes on him, and knew they were sensing his mood. Somehow he forced himself to join in their chat, and even managed to ask a few questions about their day, but it didn't take long for silence to fall. He was hardly even aware of it until the telephone rang, and Dan leapt up, shouting, 'It'll probably be Mum.'
Josh ate some food then, and kept his eyes on the muted TV screen up on the wall. He knew Shannon was watching him, so he winked at her, and tried to eat some more.
'Shannon, it's Gilly,' Dan said. 'She wants to know if you're still going shopping on Saturday, because if you are ...'
'No, I'm not,' Shannon snapped. Dan said into the phone, 'No, she's not,' and hung up.
'Not going shopping?' Emma clucked, helping herself to more beans. 'Doesn't sound like you, Shannon.'
'We're going to Cornwall,' Shannon stated, looking straight at her father.
Josh glanced at his mother, then at Dan, who was watching him too.
'Dad, you said!' Shannon cried, obviously sensing a change of plan. 'We all agreed, didn't we Dan? You were there.' 'Yes, I was there,' Dan confirmed. 'OK, OK,' Josh said. There was still Friday to get through yet, so time to think up an excuse not to go, and if Julia was intending to come back here, well, maybe she'd like to think again, because now
the initial shock was wearing off, a very deep, and very dangerous anger was starting to set in. In fact, just to make sure she was in no doubt of the way he was feeling, the instant he could snatch a few moments alone he sent her a text saying, unless you do the right thing, consider our marriage dead.
So much dread was building inside Julia, as Fen pulled off the main road and drove up to the front of the clinic, that she was very close to saying they should turn back. It was only the reminder that nothing was going to happen today, that it was merely a consultation, so there was really no reason to be this uptight, that stopped her. She just needed to get out of the car and make herself walk up to the front of this long white building, surrounded by carefully tended flower beds, which appeared as benign as the gently sloping hills fanning out behind it. It had an air about it that made it seem almost inviting, though there was not a single part of her that walked willingly up to the revolving front doors, or that entered a reception that was so elegantly furnished it could almost have been fronting a five-star hotel.
'Are you OK?' Fen asked, after she'd given her name to the receptionist.
Julia nodded, though she knew that the strain must show in her face, as it did in the tightness of the hand that was clutching her mobile phone. She'd erased the text from Josh just after it had arrived, but it was still upsetting her, even though she understood his anger. She kept hoping he'd call or text again, but there had been no more
communication between them since that message, and she wasn't even sure what she wanted him to say.
'You'll like Edmund,' Fen told her as they settled into a pair of wing chairs. 'He's a lovely man and an excellent doctor. I handled his divorce, so I got to know him reasonably well, and I can tell you, anyone who'd put up for more than twenty years with the shrew of a wife he was detaching from is a saint indeed.'
Julia smiled weakly, then tensed even harder as a bolt of nerves came out of nowhere to turn her stomach inside out. She couldn't go through with this, she just couldn't. She took a breath and was about to get up, when she reminded herself again that she wasn't here to make a final decision. The relief that followed was so profound that had she been thinking straight she'd probably have conceded, right then, that she was going to keep the baby.
'Fen, how lovely to see you. How are you?'
Julia looked up as Fen rose to her feet to greet a short, stocky man with springy grey hair, half- moon specs and a smile so warm and sincere that there was no mistaking his affection for his feisty lawyer.
'I'm very well, Edmund,' she said, taking his hand between both of hers. 'Thank you for slotting us in at such short notice. I know how in demand you are.'
'But always available for you, you know that,' he twinkled.
Fen blushed and laughed, then turned to introduce Julia.
'How do you do?' Julia said, her mouth so dry and her throat so tight it was hard to get the words out.
His eyes seemed to close in on hers a little, as though guessing how she was feeling, and in a tone that made her relax a little, he said, 'I understand we're just going to have a chat today.'
Julia nodded.
'Excellent,' He smiled. 'Would you like t
o come along through?'
After glancing at Fen, who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, she followed him along a plushly carpeted hallway towards a spiral staircase that created an intriguing centrepiece for a large picture window behind it. However, she barely noticed it, she was too busy imagining how she'd feel if it were all actually about to happen, if she were on her way to an anaesthetic right now, but strangely, unlike a few minutes ago, nothing seemed to be registering. She switched her mind to another scene which saw her leaving here, no longer pregnant, but she wasn't clear how she'd feel about that either. She thought of Josh, Shannon, Dan, Rico, then Josh again. She wished he was here, but of course it was madness to think he ever would be.
'Here we are,' Dr Harris said, pushing open a door that bore his name on a shiny chrome plaque. 'Can I ask the nurse to bring you a coffee?'
'No, I'm fine thanks,' she responded.
'Then why don't we make ourselves comfortable over here?' he said, steering her away from his desk towards a pair of two-seater sofas.
She sat down stiffly, then realising she was still
clutching her phone, as though it were some kind of lifeline to Josh, she quickly turned it off and popped it in her bag.
'So,' he said, sitting down too, 'it would seem that we have a surprise pregnancy.'
Appreciating the euphemism, she attempted to sound droll as she said, 'That's certainly one way of putting it.'
His eyes twinkled, but then he was serious again. 'And you're considering a termination?' 'Just considering. I haven't made a decision yet.' He nodded. 'Well, before we go any further, are you aware of the medical and legal guidelines covering a termination?'
'I think so,' she answered. 'It has to be signed off by two doctors, and it can't be carried out after twenty-four weeks.'
'That's correct, but there are other criteria that have to be taken into consideration, such as the reason for the termination.'
She tried to swallow, but her throat had turned dry again.
'Would I be correct in assuming that the baby isn't your husband's?' he prompted gently.