Together Apart

by Natalie K. Martin

  I’d kept my eyes closed until the sonographer squeezed the ice-cold gel onto my stomach. For some unknown reason, I opened my eyes. Maybe it was some kind of sick way of torturing myself, but even up until that point, I still had no doubts. She twiddled some buttons, and the monitor flickered into life, and I wondered how many other women had lain on that bed before me. Thousands, probably. I couldn’t help but think of what their circumstances might have been. Were they all like me? Were they in relationships or single? Happy or sad? Relieved or doubtful?

  Even now, I don’t know why I turned my head towards the monitor when she rubbed the probe thing over my nonexistent bump, but I did, and out of the fuzziness, the image came to life. I wanted to tear my eyes away, but I couldn’t. I could see it, and I could hear the sonar-like sound of its heartbeat echoing in the room. It was the loudest thing I’d ever heard in my life. It was so quick and steady that it felt like I was being deafened with it.

  The sonographer didn’t speak as she took notes, but I saw her eyebrows knitting together, and then she picked up the phone to call in a doctor. Something was clearly wrong, and for a second I thought I’d miscarried. I don’t know why I thought that. I’d heard the baby’s heartbeat myself, but when the doctor came in and looked at the screen, I still expected to hear that I’d lost it. I wasn’t prepared for what he actually said.

  I was carrying twins. Or, technically, I had been carrying twins. They could only detect one heartbeat, but there was a second foetus that had stopped growing at around eight weeks. The other baby was fine, and they put my pregnancy at a day under thirteen weeks.

  I completely lost my voice. I couldn’t speak. I could hardly even breathe; my throat had completely closed up. My own heartbeat was pounding in my ears, and my stomach wouldn’t stop turning. The idea of one baby was bad enough, let alone two, but knowing that I’d lost one is something I still can’t get my head around.

  It’s like imagining life without Claire. It’s simply inconceivable, and even thinking about it gives me a physical ache so bad, it makes me feel like throwing up. I couldn’t imagine my life without her in it, no matter how distant we sometimes are.

  Until this morning, I thought I was carrying one baby, and terminating that one would have been hard enough. Now it turns out there were two – or had been. One had died and the other lived. The idea of terminating the surviving twin is one I don’t know how to deal with. I wish I could tell Adam. Maybe I should. He already knows something’s going on. I don’t know if I can deal with this on my own, but how do I tell him I’ll be aborting his child, especially now that I’ve lost one of them already?

  And if all that wasn’t enough, I stopped in at the supermarket on the way home to get some painkillers and bumped into Jenny. She was colder than ice when she saw me, and she told me that Adam had already moved on. She didn’t say anything more than that, but it was the way she said it. There was no doubt about what she meant. He’s slept with someone else. I almost threw up on her shoes when she said that, but what could I say back? That I still love him, and by the way, I’m carrying his child? Hardly. Still, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what she said. I keep picturing him kissing some faceless woman. I have no right to be angry with him, but I am. I’m angry that he’s apparently moved on so quickly. It was like she reached into my chest and crumbled my heart into a billion pieces when she told me.

  I just want all this to be over.

  26.

  5 November

  I think I got about an hour’s sleep last night and I really wish I hadn’t. I dreamt I was in labour. It was awful. I wasn’t in any pain. My whole body felt numb, but I could feel a tugging sensation. It reminded me of when I had my wisdom teeth out, feeling something being ripped from my body.

  I was lying on a bed, and my belly was swollen to epic proportions, much more than could ever be possible for a human, and when I looked down, I saw the baby moving. My skin was rippling and stretching as the bulge swarmed around in my belly like an alien trying to burst its way out. A group of midwives were standing around the room with their arms crossed, looking at me like I was the most disgusting thing they’d ever seen – it was etched all over their faces. And standing in the middle of them all was Adam. I was calling out to him, begging him to forgive me, but I couldn’t get the words out. The words clogged up in my throat, choking me. The feeling of panic was so real.

  Then the baby came. And then another. And another. Baby after baby, after baby. They plopped out of me, blue and lifeless, piling up on the hospital bed. Every single one of them was dead. I don’t know how many there were – they just kept coming and coming. Nobody would help me, and eventually Adam and the midwives left the room, leaving me with an ever-growing pile of dead babies. Then one of them turned its head towards me and opened its eyes. They were black. No irises, no nothing. Just endless black holes, and that’s when I woke up.

  My heart was pounding so much I thought it would leap right out of my chest. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my throat so hard it made me feel sick. My T-shirt was stuck to my body with sweat, like a second skin, and my hair had tangled itself around my neck. I must have been thrashing about pretty badly.

  I don’t need to be a psychiatrist to know what the dream meant. I know it was the guilt that triggered it. When I came back from the clinic yesterday, I lay on my bed thinking about the twin that had survived. I wondered whether it knew that it was suddenly by itself in there. Whether it felt lonely.

  When Adam came back from work, he knocked on the bedroom door, and I pretended to be asleep. I couldn’t face him. I didn’t move from the bed. I didn’t eat. I didn’t watch the television. I didn’t even text Claire like I’d promised. It was like I was in a trance, and after waking up from that awful nightmare, I lay looking out of the skylight window, watching the night sky become lighter and lighter, until I heard Adam get up for work. I know I have to tell him. He’s not stupid. I’m sure he’s already guessed the truth, and it wouldn’t be fair on him to keep him hanging on. Morally, telling him would be the right thing to do, but I don’t want to keep it. And telling him that will kill him, just like it’s killing me. The nightmare I had has been playing in my head all day. I’m so sick of carrying this feeling around. I felt it about Richard, and now I’m feeling it about Adam.

  It’s Richard’s memorial on Monday, and after being convinced I didn’t want to go, I’m now thinking that maybe I should pay my respects and say goodbye. He was such a huge part of my life, and I can’t help feeling that all this is some kind of sign. It has to be more than just coincidence that I found out about Richard’s death and my pregnancy in the space of a couple of days. Maybe going will do something to help me move on. All I know is that I have to do something and, if I don’t go, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.

  27.

  Adam diverted Jenny’s call. He was the only person left in the office, and if he had any hope in hell of leaving before seven, he needed to concentrate. No doubt she wanted to find out if he’d spoken to Carl about her and Nick. He’d debrief her later.

  He sighed and turned his attention back to his computer screen. He frowned, reading the dilapidation report. It wasn’t unusual for an apartment to need a few repairs when a tenant vacated, but this was ridiculous. They’d put a hole the size of a basketball in the wall, and the bathroom was dotted with cracked tiles. His mobile rang again, and he groaned in frustration before answering.

  ‘Jen, this really isn’t a good time. I’ve got a ton of work to do – can I call you back later?’

  ‘Oh, good. You’re not at home yet.’

  ‘No, I’m still in the office.’ He pulled his eyebrows together. ‘Why?’

  ‘I think I did something bad.’

  ‘What?’ he replied warily.

  ‘I ran into Sarah at the supermarket the other day.’

  ‘Oh great.’ No doubt Jenny would have given
Sarah a piece of her mind. ‘And?’

  ‘I might have let it slip that you pulled when we went out.’

  ‘You did what? For fuck sake, Jenny.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just so angry with her. It just slipped out.’

  ‘Bullshit.’ He turned away from the computer screen. ‘Things like that don’t just slip out. What the hell were you playing at?’

  He shook his head. Sure, he was a single man, but with the complications between him and Sarah, this was something that didn’t need to be added to the mix – not when she was carrying the baby he desperately wanted her to keep.

  ‘I didn’t actually say that you had; I just said that you were doing a lot better and you’d moved on.’

  ‘You had no right to say that,’ Adam shouted, getting up from his desk. ‘You have no idea what you’ve done.’

  ‘I said I was sorry,’ Jenny snapped down the phone.

  ‘No, you’re not. You never liked her anyway.’

  ‘That’s not true, and you know it.’

  He scowled, gripping the phone. ‘Just stay out of my business, Jenny.’

  He hung up the phone, kicked the filing cabinet and swore to the empty room. Just when it had looked like things couldn’t get any worse.

  Adam put his key in the lock and sighed. Sarah had been spending more and more time in her room, and now that he’d spoken to Jenny, he understood why. If she was pregnant, then finding out he’d already slept with someone else would hardly have her doing star jumps around the room, whether they were together or not. Jenny was one of his closest friends, and as much as he loved her, he knew what she could be like. She’d been angry at Sarah from the moment Adam had told her about their break-up, and he doubted she’d have given Sarah the news with a coating of sugar.

  He frowned as he closed the door behind him. The air was filled with the scent of spices. Lamb tagine. He was certain of it. It was one of Sarah’s favourite meals.

  He chucked his bag onto his bed before going into the kitchen. The table was laid out with placemats and wine glasses. Had he slipped through a wormhole into a parallel universe?

  Sarah was stood by the cooker, spooning a little of the meat into her mouth. After her run-in with Jenny, she was probably about to lace his food with arsenic.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, removing his tie.

  He looked at the kitchen. Sarah was the messiest cook he’d ever seen. Every surface was littered with bowls, kitchen paper and various packets of herbs and spices.

  ‘We need to talk,’ she said. The determination in her voice unnerved him. It was something he hadn’t heard in a long time. Maybe he was about to get some answers.

  As the flavours burst on his tongue, he couldn’t help but think back to the first time she had cooked this for him. It was the weekend they’d moved into the flat, and after spending the morning walking around John Lewis picking up rugs and cushions, she’d prepared a Moroccan feast: cinnamon and pumpkin soup, lamb tagine with couscous and spiced vegetables, followed by fruit in ginger syrup with cardamom yoghurt. He’d never tasted anything so good. It had been an idyllic weekend, and back then it felt like anything was possible. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that everything was how it used to be. That they were a normal couple enjoying a nice meal. He could almost believe they were back together. Almost. Why was she being so nice?

  Adam swallowed his lamb and looked at her. ‘What’s this all about, Sarah?’

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  The words fell from her mouth like a bomb falling from a plane, and for a few seconds all he could do was blink. It wasn’t entirely a shock, but after the way she’d been so reluctant to tell him anything, hearing her confirm it in such an abrupt way jolted his brain. It was as if he’d found that leaflet in a dream, and now reality hit him sharply in the face. She was pregnant.

  ‘About thirteen weeks I think, give or take.’

  He’d been right. She was having a baby. His baby. His imagination propelled forwards, and he pictured the two of them in the flat with a screaming baby. His pulse went into overdrive. The thought of dirty nappies, piles of laundry, sleepless nights and the end to his life as he knew it sent a chill through him. Of course he wanted children. He wanted a whole brood of them. Just not right now. And definitely not like this, with a woman who seemed to keep one secret after another.

  ‘I know it’s a bit of a shock, but before you start freaking out, you should know that I’m not going to keep it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His head was reeling – he couldn’t keep up with what was going on.

  ‘I’m going to have an abortion.’

  He opened his mouth and closed it again. She was going to have an abortion? How could she make a decision like that without even considering him?

  ‘And you didn’t think to ask for my opinion?’

  ‘I don’t expect you to understand, Adam, but I can’t have this baby,’ Sarah said. He raised his eyebrows at the strength in her voice.

  ‘What? I mean, I know things are messed up between us, but you know I’d help you raise it. You wouldn’t have to do it on your own, regardless of what’s going on with us. I’d never do that to you.’

  What was he saying? How had his mouth tricked his brain like that? He shook his head again, trying to untangle his thoughts. Only a few seconds ago, he’d been disturbingly close to crapping himself at the idea of becoming a dad. Now he was defending it.

  ‘I know you wouldn’t.’

  ‘So think again, then. You don’t have to have an abortion, Sarah.’

  ‘Adam, please. This is hard enough as it is,’ she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. ‘I don’t want it, and it’s not fair on either of us to keep it, not to mention on the baby itself.’

  He looked down at the food on their plates and shook his head. ‘You know, that’s exactly what you said when we got back from holiday. You said you couldn’t be with me anymore because it wasn’t fair. Are you ever going to tell me what that was about?’

  ‘This isn’t about you. It’s about me.’

  For a split second, a look passed across her face that told him she was deadly serious. Her usually bright eyes were as dull as dishwater, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears, but he didn’t care. This was too big to let go of.

  ‘This whole fucking thing has been about you, Sarah,’ he shouted and stood up from the table. ‘From the minute you turned me down, everything that’s happened has been about you, and now you’re telling me that your decision to abort our baby has nothing to do with me. Like my feelings don’t count for anything.’

  ‘I needed to figure things out for myself, and you’d have just confused me. I’ve made my mind up about this, and it has nothing to do with you.’

  ‘It’s my baby! Of course it does. How can you be so fucking heartless? You could have talked to me about it. I’d have supported your decision, but you could at least have let me have a say.’

  What was wrong with her? He’d really over-estimated her. She clearly wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was. His entire body prickled with a fury demanding to be unleashed as he tried with everything he had to contain it. How could she say this wasn’t about him? For all she knew, he might have actually supported her decision. He didn’t know what he wanted, but she could have at least considered him.

  They’d been together for almost a year and lived together for nearly six months. But listening to her now, it looked like she didn’t know him at all if she really thought he’d try to convince her to do something she didn’t want to do.

  ‘Adam, I’m sorry.’ Her voice cracked, and she gave in to full-on sobbing.

  He walked away from her and looked out of the window. Everything was normal out there, but his entire world had changed in less than five minutes.

  How could one woman throw so
many curveballs? She’d rejected his proposal, hinted at a secret she refused to tell him anything about, sprung a secret twin on him, told him she was pregnant and then told him she was getting rid of it without a second thought for his feelings. All this in the space of just shy of three months. He should have listened to his mates. He really was better off out of this.

  28.

  Adam drove on autopilot. He barely even registered where he was or where he was going. It didn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t stay in the flat a minute longer. She’d thrown the news about her being pregnant at him with such force and then clammed up straight away. After reading her diaries, it was obvious she could be open when she chose to be, which meant that she was deliberately holding back. Again.

  He focused on the rhythmic sounds in the car – the windscreen wipers swishing back and forth and the ticking of the indicator – anything to keep him from thinking about the mess he’d left behind. He drove past a sign showing a turning for Cockfosters and switched his turn signal on, indicating to take it. Matt didn’t live far away. He didn’t want to tell him about the baby – there was no point since Sarah was so hell-bent on getting rid of it – but he needed some company, and Jenny and Carl were too caustic for him to deal with today.

  Ten minutes later, he stepped through Matt’s front door. He’d called on the way, and luckily Matt was home. Adam had always thought the reason why Matt rarely had people at his house was because he preferred to go out himself to escape for a while. Matt would always say it was too chaotic, but whenever Adam would walk through the house bearing gifts for his goddaughter, he’d wonder what all the fuss was about. Everything was always neat and tidy, and Molly was always clean and nicely dressed. Stopping by unannounced shattered that illusion.