The Benefits of Passion

by Catherine Fox

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Listen, come back anyway. If you’re not pregnant we’ll need to find out what’s making you sick, won’t we? You’re a student? Which college?’

  ‘Coverdale Hall.’

  The doctor’s biro paused. ‘Isn’t that the . . . ?’

  ‘The theological college. Yes.’ Annie blushed scarlet. Was this foretaste of the mortification that lay ahead?’

  ‘Well, do that test and come back for a chat.’ She crossed to Annie and gave her arm a pat. ‘Goodbye.’

  Oh, God help me! Annie was out on the street not knowing which way to turn. A chemist. But I might meet someone I know. She walked up the road, then turned and began to walk back. What shall I do? She tried to calm herself. You probably aren’t pregnant. Will wouldn’t have made a mistake like that. She remembered his face when he said condoms weren’t half as inconvenient as an unwanted pregnancy. Go to Newcastle and buy a kit. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.

  She caught a train and made her way to the big anonymous Boots, blushing furiously as she bought the kit. She felt sure everyone in the ladies’ would hear the rustling packet and know. I’m just doing this to set my mind at rest. There was the little stick thingy to wee on. Her fingers trembled till she almost dropped it. Simply hold the indicator in your flow of urine, urged the instructions brightly. A blue line shows that you are pregnant. She did as she was told, peeing haltingly, then waiting, not daring to look. The second hand crawled round her watch. One minute. One minute thirty seconds, forty, fifty. She could bear it no more.

  There was the blue line. Annie doubled over and vomited wretchedly.

  CHAPTER 20

  Don’t let it be true! Somehow she stumbled out of the shopping centre and hurried blindly along the street. It was raining and she had no coat. Before long she was soaked to the skin but she kept walking, walking, as though by doing so she might arrive at an answer. The rainy streets made no sense. Where was she? For a moment she lost herself and thought she was a student in Cambridge again with finals a day away.

  Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day

  And make me travel forth without my cloak?

  Please help me, please help me! Her friends’ faces crowded in on her. Shock, disbelief, disappointment. Ted. Isobel. Muriel. And Edward. Oh, God, Edward! A passer-by turned and looked at her and Annie realized she had cried out. She hurried on. I can’t face them. I’ll have to get rid of it. Her voice cried out again and she clapped a hand over her mouth. I can’t. The poor thing. The little thing clinging to her against all the odds. I’m all it has.

  What if Will tries to make me have an abortion? Wait – he was against abortion. Except in extreme circumstances. But this was extreme. She quailed at the thought of him. He’d be furious. He’d blame her. But it’s not my fault! She was his worst nightmare – the demanding, accusing, pregnant ex-lover. I won’t tell him. I’ll manage. I’ll find somewhere to live. I’ve got my savings. I can get a teaching job. I’ll manage somehow.

  But the shame! The streets might have been lined with all the people she’d ever known. People who would find out. People she would have to face and tell. The college staff. The students. Her mother. Her bishop. She passed their staring faces. Oh, God, let it not be true! And the people she didn’t know. They wouldn’t just look at her and think she’d been careless or unlucky. She was an ordinand. She was insignificant, but she was still an ordinand. People expected more of the clergy and judged more harshly. An unmarried pregnant ordinand. It was the stuff of tabloid headlines.

  The rain suddenly became torrential. Shoppers ran for cover. Annie continued to walk. If only she had someone to turn to. If only she could run to Will. She stopped her furious walking. What if he heard about it second-hand from Edward? The rain slapped down, hissing on to the pavement, throwing up bubbles on the streaming road. Go to him, urged a voice. Go to him. It’s Wednesday afternoon, she thought. He’ll be in. She turned and hurried to the metro and waited for a train.

  It was still raining as she walked the half-mile from the station to his house. Her lips mumbled and rehearsed what she would say. The streets were empty, everyone driven inside by the rain. She went past the dripping privet hedge and in through his gate. What if he’s not there? But his shape moved behind the glass in the door. He opened before she could ring.

  ‘Annie! God, you’re soaked. Come in.’ She saw his ravishing smile and staggered across the threshold. ‘I was going to give you till Saturday, then –’ He broke off. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Her voice uttered another strange moan. ‘I’m pregnant, Will!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I did a test. I’m pregnant.’

  They stared at one another wildly.

  ‘Shit.’

  She shivered, trying to wipe the rain from her face with her sodden sleeve.

  He had his hands in his hair as though he was about to pull it out. ‘Oh, Shit.’

  ‘I . . . I just wanted you to know.’ She groped for her prepared words. ‘I’m not going to make any demands on you.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’

  ‘Because you didn’t plan . . . I know it’s not convenient –’

  ‘It was convenient for me to have sex. Why should I escape the consequences?’

  ‘But . . .’

  He shook himself. ‘What am I doing? You’re soaked. I’ll get a towel. Go and put the kettle on.’

  He joined her in the kitchen a moment later and helped her peel off her wet clothes. She clutched his dressing gown round her, ashamed to let him see her naked body. He handed her a towel.

  ‘Sit down.’ He stood frowning and biting his lip. ‘You’re quite sure, Annie?’

  She nodded. ‘Unless the test –’

  ‘No. They’re accurate.’ His hands went to his hair again. She looked away at the rain trickling down the steamed-up window. ‘God, Annie, I’m so sorry. Your training – what will you do?’

  ‘I’ll resign.’ She caught an expression on his face and couldn’t help crying, ‘I know you think I didn’t want to be ordained, but I did! I was going to come and explain. I’d chosen . . .’

  ‘And now this. Jesus. Have you considered having an abortion?’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t! I’m sorry! Please don’t try to persuade me.’

  ‘Ssh. It’s all right. I wouldn’t dream . . .’ He knelt in front of her and took her hands. ‘Look, I’m here if you need me. If you need a place to stay. Or money. Or moral support. Anything.’

  ‘I’ll have to tell so many people!’

  ‘Well, not yet. It’s early days, Annie. There’s a one in four chance of miscarrying in the first three months.’ He was slipping into his professional manner. ‘I wonder how far on you are. Can I see if I can feel anything?’

  She lay down on the floor. He has to ask now if he can touch me. For the second time that day a set of hands worked their way down her stomach. His expression was remote and thoughtful. She banished the memory of his savage face the last time she’d lain on that hard cold floor.

  He shook his head. ‘They’ll be able to fix your dates by scan. Go and see your doctor.’ He leant back against the cooker wearily.

  She sat up, wrapping the dressing gown close again. ‘I’ll have to tell my bishop,’ she said.

  ‘OK. Who is he?’

  ‘Henry Melville.’

  ‘Fuck.’ He flushed scarlet.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s my bloody godfather.’

  Annie stifled a giggle. They sat on his kitchen floor laughing. A moment later they were both in tears.

  ‘Jesus, what a mess,’ he said. ‘No such thing as a free fuck. I just thought I’d have all the fun and none of the responsibility for once. Selfish bastard.’

  ‘Don’t. It’s not your fault.’

  ‘It was a mistake, wasn’t it? All that sex with no commitment. I was never sure you liked me, even.’

  ‘But I did!’ she protested. ‘I do.’ I love you. I love you.

  ‘
Yeah, well.’ They were silent for a while. Then she saw it dawning on him: I’m going to be a father. She felt a jolt of something that might have been joy, saw it mirrored in his face. But it passed. She sat listening to the miserable drumming of the rain and started to feel sick again.

  Annie spent the rest of the afternoon asleep on Will’s sofa while her clothes dried. He drove her to the station. She caught a train and walked back to college. He had advised her to tell only one or two close friends and the Warden, and to wait till the end of term before trying to make any decisions. It was only two weeks away. Annie was relieved to have someone else telling her what to do. She felt stunned and directionless. They’ll all come back after the summer vacation, she thought. They’ll find out one by one what’s happened to me. Or perhaps the Warden will make an announcement. At least she would be spared the staring and whispering and the sudden silences when she entered a room.

  Annie, where the hell are you? What’s going on? Edward. His big handwriting almost filled the message board on her door. She panicked. He’d bully the truth out of her and storm off to confront Will. She stood wringing her hands. Ted. She’d go to Ted.

  She went to his room, praying he’d be in and that she wouldn’t meet Edward on the way. She knocked and Ted called her in. ‘Annie! Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.’ Her face crumpled. She knotted her hands together. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked gently.

  ‘I’m pregnant.’ Without a word he held out his arms to her. She rushed into them and cried brokenly on his chest while he rocked her like a little child. ‘You’re not surprised,’ she got out at last.

  ‘Well, I’d begun to wonder. Dr Sex, I presume?’

  ‘You knew.’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I saw you with him at Newcastle station once. And you seemed to vanish on Wednesday afternoons.’

  ‘You never said anything.’

  He sighed. ‘I couldn’t decide whether it was my business.’ If I’d said something this might never have happened. She could sense he was accusing himself. ‘Have you told William?’ She nodded. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Um . . .’

  ‘Ah. My Sankey box runneth over.’

  He doesn’t like him. ‘He was very good about it.’ She saw Ted thinking. So I should hope. ‘I mean, if there’s anything I need, he said . . . Money, you know. A place to stay . . .’ Her voice pleaded with him. ‘Ted, it was all over between us. I can’t expect him to . . . to . . . He’ll do everything he can. I’m sure he will. I’m not asking . . .’ She trailed off.

  ‘What will you do, Annie?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She started to cry again and he hugged her close. ‘Will says not to tell too many people. In case I lose the baby.’ He nodded. She felt his beard tickle her forehead. ‘Edward!’ she yelped, suddenly remembering. ‘He’ll want to know what the doctor said!’

  ‘Well, tell him you’re all right, but you’d rather not go into the details with him.’

  ‘But he’ll have to know in the end. Everyone will.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Oh, Ted, I’m sorry, she wanted to say. ‘I thought you’d be shocked. Disapproving.’

  ‘There’s not much point, is there? You know what I think – sex is for marriage. Or for commitment, at any rate.’

  ‘That’s what Will said, more or less. He said it was all a big mistake.’

  ‘Did he now.’

  ‘Please don’t think badly of him,’ begged Annie. ‘He’s . . .’ But what was he?

  ‘Well, if there’s anything I can do, Annie.’

  ‘Thanks. You could . . . pray for me. I’ve got to go and see Tubby now.’

  ‘Yoicks!’ said Ted, improvising a new episode of Tubby of Tuckerman Hall. ‘Bally old bun in the oven? What mouldy old beastly rotten luck! Have a gobstopper.’

  ‘Stop it!’ pleaded Annie, giggling against her will. He gave her another hug and she went. She pictured his shoulders sagging after he shut the door. Oh, Annie, he would be thinking as he shook his head sadly. Annie, Annie, Annie.

  Tubby wasn’t in his office, so Annie crossed the street to his house to see if he was there. Megs opened the door and Annie backed off, realizing it was Tuckerman tea-time. Megs could be fierce in defence of quality family time, but on this occasion she invited Annie in and gave her a cup of mango tea. Tubby must have told her something, thought Annie, as she entered the land of flying fishfingers.

  ‘Do you want some honey in it? We don’t have sugar,’ said Megs, pushing a sticky jar towards her. Annie shook her head. Sweet Justice, said the label. Honey from more than one country.

  The noise was immense. Annie couldn’t decide if they’d run out of sugar or if they never had any on principle. Megs was spooning something wholesome into the smallest Tuckerperson. The older three sat round the table playing with their food and pretending to vomit mouthfuls back on to their plates. Annie inhaled some of her perfumed tea. Megs seemed to inhabit a non-stop Joyce Grenfell sketch.

  ‘Let’s see who can finish first, shall we? Look! Timmy’s almost finished already.’ She turned to Annie. ‘David won’t be – Bottom down, Lucy. BOTTOM DOWN! Or there’ll be no yoghurt. David’s just on the phone to – No hitting, James, no, “sorry” is not enough – on the phone to Pauline about the – the – He won’t be a moment.’

  About the – Annie never discovered what Tubby and Pauline were discussing. Megs’s speech was littered with missing nouns.

  ‘So how’s your – STOP BANGING – how’s your course going?’

  ‘Well, all right. I’m –’

  ‘Good boy! Just one more mouthful . . .’

  It was clear that Megs perceived a thread of continuity running through the conversation, but it eluded Annie. This will be me next year, she thought, swallowed alive by motherhood, unable to have three coherent exchanges of adult small talk. Perhaps in the end you became hardened to the constant bombardment of your attention. She imagined Megs saying to Tubby later, Well, I had a nice chat with Annie. By now the little Tuckerpeople were chanting Annie poo, Annie bum as Megs was trying to talk about fair trading, something Annie was in favour of, except when she was talking to Megs.

  ‘. . . which helps the local people produce their own – Stop that now! ONE. TWO.’

  They fell silent in the nick of time before the fearsome THREE was uttered.

  Tubby arrived and rescued Annie. They retreated to his chaotic study. He shifted some books and files and waved her into a chair. Annie had forgotten a handkerchief and glanced around for a box of tissues. Perhaps Megs forbade the use of paper hankies.

  ‘Have you recovered from this morning?’ asked Tubby, sitting down.

  ‘Um . . . yes.’

  ‘You saw the doctor?’ he prompted encouragingly.

  She nodded and hunted pointlessly around her pocket for a tissue. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been very foolish,’ she burst out.

  He handed her a roll of recycled pink loo paper and waited, although she knew he must have guessed.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m pregnant.’ She sniffed.

  His hand clasped hers tight. ‘Thank you for telling me.’ He went on waiting while she wept into strip after strip of disintegrating pink paper.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’ve let everyone down. I –’

  His hand clasped hers again. ‘Never mind all that. It’s you I’m concerned about. How are you coping?’

  She gestured helplessly.

  ‘Do you mind awfully telling me who the father is?’ he asked, after a while.

  ‘Nobody in college.’ She’d spared him that, at least. ‘It’s . . . it’s a friend of Edward’s. He’s a doctor in Bishopside.’ Tubby nodded. She saw she would have to say more. ‘We, um, had an affair. Earlier this term. I know it was wrong. It was all over. And now . . .’ She began to weep again.

  ‘Have you told him?’ Tubby asked.

  She nodded. ‘He . . . he’s prepared to support me. Financially. Not . . .’

  ‘Marriage isn’t on the cards?’<
br />
  She shook her head. ‘Edward doesn’t know!’ she blurted.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Tubby. He took his heavy glasses off and she noticed again how beautiful his eyes were. He rubbed them. She watched him sizing up the weight of the burden, steadying himself to shoulder it. He sighed and put his glasses back on.

  ‘Well, a lecture would be completely out of order. You’re not the first student who’s slipped up – golly, no – and you won’t be the last, I dare say. But there are obvious consequences we’re going to have to think about.’ There was a silence. ‘Bath time!’ sang Megs in the distance. The consequences seemed to tower over Annie. ‘I think I’m going to have to urge you to take a break in your training.’

  ‘I’ll resign,’ she said hurriedly.

  He raised a hand. ‘Hold your horses. Let’s think this through properly.’ They waited while he thought. ‘The other members of staff are going to have to know. And the Principal will want to have a chat with you, I expect.’ Annie nodded miserably. ‘Would you like me to have a word with your bishop?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘I want to spare you the ordeal of the whole college talking about you. You’ll have enough on your plate without that.’ She nodded again. ‘People are going to be jolly condemning, I’m afraid, Annie. I just want you to know we’ll do everything we can to support you. Do you have a spiritual director?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I’d like you to see someone.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘I’ll fix it up. In the meantime, why not go and have another chat with Pauline? I’ll put her in the picture.’ Annie nodded. She couldn’t argue. He was being so good about it all.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I . . .’

  ‘Take it to God,’ said Tubby gently. ‘Take it to God, Annie.’

  ‘Where have you been?’ asked Edward as she crept into her seat for College Eucharist. ‘What did the doctor say?’

  ‘I’m all right,’ she mumbled.

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Eh? Eh?’

  ‘Nothing serious. I just don’t want to discuss it.’