Misconception

by Rebecca Freeborn

  It wasn’t until sharp twinges pulled at her lower abdomen in the middle of an interview that Ali connected all of these things into one frightening conclusion. She almost dropped her phone, which she’d been using to record the interview.

  ‘Should I… go on?’ the interview subject prompted her.

  ‘Sorry. Yes.’ But she couldn’t absorb a word the subject was saying. She racked her brain to remember when she’d had her last period, but they’d become so irregular during her heavy drinking that she hadn’t paid too much attention to her cycle. It had been three weeks since the night with Tom.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to the subject. ‘I’m going to have to cut this short. Could I give you a call tomorrow to finish up the interview?’

  She rushed from the cafe and detoured via the nearest pharmacy, before returning to work and locking herself in a bathroom cubicle. Her heart thudded as she stared at the results window. The blood drained from her face as two parallel lines darkened from pale pink to almost red.

  * * *

  Ali fidgeted in her car outside Claudia’s house, delaying the inevitable. Her friend had called her not long after she’d reunited with Kayla, inviting her over for morning tea. Kayla’s car was already in the driveway, and Ali knew their kids would be inside, shouting and giggling. Happy.

  She placed a hand on her belly. Despite the telltale changes to her body, she was careful not to think of the thing inside her as a baby. It was just a bunch of cells, probably with a defective gene, or whatever it was that had caused her miscarriages.

  She still hadn’t told Tom. Odds were that she’d lose this one too, and that would only disrupt the new life Tom had been so keen to start. She couldn’t bring it up now. Perhaps, once it was over, she would let him know.

  Ali took a deep breath and got out of the car. The longer she waited here, the harder it would be to go in.

  Claudia looked tired but happy when she opened the door. She wore no make-up and her hair was tied up in a messy bun.

  ‘How are you?’ Ali said before Claudia could ask her. They shared an awkward hug.

  ‘We’re doing really well. Not getting much sleep, of course. But otherwise good.’ Claudia’s words came out all in a rush, as if she were torn between not wanting to gloat and seeming ungrateful.

  ‘Congratulations.’ Ali managed a smile. She wished she could run back to the car, but Claudia had already ushered her inside where Kayla sat holding the baby and supervising the older kids.

  ‘Hi Ali,’ she said. ‘How’s the job going?’

  Ali sat down beside her, trying to avoid looking at the baby. ‘Really well, actually. I’d forgotten how crazy that place was, but I’m enjoying it for the most part.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Kayla said. ‘Ooh, steady on, little one. They’re not operational anymore. Claud, I think you’re needed here.’

  Ali glanced reluctantly at the baby. She was burrowing her tiny face in Kayla’s chest and moving her head from side to side, blindly seeking sustenance. Claudia swooped in and lifted her out of Kayla’s arms, then settled on the couch and fumbled with the strap of her bra.

  ‘Sorry, Ali, I didn’t even get the chance to offer you a drink,’ she said with an apologetic grin.

  ‘That’s OK—’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Kayla broke in. ‘Tea or coffee, Ali?’

  ‘Tea, please,’ Ali said.

  Alone with Claudia and the baby, Ali clutched her hands together in her lap to stop them from trembling. Claudia smiled at her as she guided the baby onto her breast. Envy stung Ali. Her tender nipples tingled, as they had on and off since she’d discovered she was pregnant.

  Kayla returned juggling three cups of tea. She gave one to Ali and placed another on one of the upper shelves of the bookcase, out of reach of the other kids. Their conversation was stilted for a while. The baby was a giant wall between them. She fed for what seemed like forever before Claudia sat her up on her lap, supporting her chin with one hand and rubbing her back with the other.

  ‘She’s a good baby. Sleeps at all the right times, unlike Ellie and Jacob.’ Then her eyes met Ali’s and she looked away guiltily.

  ‘Please,’ Ali said. ‘You don’t need to tread on eggshells around me.’

  The other two exchanged nervous glances.

  ‘C’mon, guys,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to spontaneously combust. Now, are you going to let me hold that baby or what?’

  Claudia’s brow was slightly creased as she handed the baby over, and Ali tried to look reassuring as she cradled her in her arms. The baby looked up at her, grey-blue eyes blinking and unfocused. She smacked her lips a few times, grunting contentedly after her feed. Her hands and feet twitched with no control, but soon she settled and her big eyes began to close.

  Pain sliced through Ali with exquisite slowness, searing her throat and bringing tears to her eyes. She could feel Claudia’s and Kayla’s gazes, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the baby. She stroked her tiny cheek with one finger. ‘Hey, Alice.’ A tear dripped onto her tiny face, and the baby screwed up her nose in response. Ali laughed and cried.

  ‘I named her after you, you know,’ Claudia said, and Ali looked up in surprise. ‘I already liked the name, of course. But it was because of you that it went to the top of the list.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ali whispered.

  She looked back down at the baby. Alice’s eyes fluttered open and gazed sleepily up at her. A wave of love rushed through Ali, almost painful in its intensity. Not for the newborn that lay in her arms, although she certainly felt something for her. It was for the beginnings of the child hidden deep inside her belly. It was useless to try to deny its existence.

  Later, when she was back in the car, still outside Claudia’s house, she called Amelia’s office and made an appointment.

  Before

  Ali took Tom’s hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze as they stepped through the doors of the fertility clinic for their first ultrasound. ‘Stop stressing. It’s going to be OK.’

  But she could feel her own chin quivering as she tried to smile. She was just as nervous as he was, and with good reason. At seven weeks, this was the furthest any of her pregnancies had gone. The fact that this one had been conceived with the help of fertility treatment did nothing to ease her worry.

  The waiting room was almost full of women and a few nervy-looking men. No one ever made eye contact in this room. Ali had noticed it immediately when she’d first come here. Each woman jealously guarded her fragile hope, perhaps embarrassed at the possibility of being recognised, or ashamed of being in this situation at all.

  Ali and Tom sat down on adjacent chairs, their fingers still linked. A pile of magazines sat on the table in the middle of the room, but neither of them took one. Ali focused on the swirls in the carpet beneath her feet until the fertility doctor they’d been seeing called them through.

  ‘Sorry to keep you waiting!’ she said as she led them up the hallway. ‘Are you ready to see that baby of yours?’

  The room was clinical grey and white, separated in the middle by a long blue curtain pulled back to reveal the reclining bed. The ultrasound screen sat beyond, showing an inverted triangle of shadowy grey and black.

  The doctor ushered them towards the bed and pulled the curtain across, sending the metal rings singing along the overhead rail. Ali grasped Tom’s hand and they watched the screen with silent intensity until finally the doctor pointed at it. ‘There’s your baby.’

  Ali gazed at the white blob. It looked like a baked bean. Then she noticed tiny, spidery bits wriggling at the top of the bean, and with a rush of awe she realised they were arms and legs.

  ‘And that,’ the doctor said, pointing to a little blinking spot in the middle of the bean, ‘is your baby’s heart, beating nice and strong.’

  Sensations stronger than Ali had ever felt before washed through her body. Astonishment. Wonder. Love. Fear. She turned to Tom, her eyes brimming with tears. Together, they watched their baby w
ith its tiny arms and tiny legs and its tiny, blinking heart, and Ali knew nothing would ever be the same again.

  Ali

  ‘Alison, I’m so pleased to see you again,’ Amelia said when she called Ali into her room. ‘I’m glad you changed your mind.’

  ‘I didn’t, exactly,’ Ali said. ‘It wasn’t planned. I never thought I’d get this far, to tell you the truth.’

  ‘Tom must be so happy! He couldn’t make it today?’

  ‘Ah, no. He’s at work.’ Ali looked away to hide her guilt at the half-lie.

  ‘What a shame,’ Amelia said. ‘Oh well, plenty of time for that. Let’s take a look at how your baby’s growing, and we’ll deal with the paperwork afterwards.’

  Ali had been determined to remain calm, but as she climbed up onto the bed, she began to tremble. She’d tried so hard to remain detached from what was going on inside her, but now the thought of seeing nothing but an empty sac and no blinking heart was almost more than she could bear. She couldn’t even look at the ultrasound screen as Amelia moved the transducer over her lower belly. Several seconds passed and her heart began to harden in preparation for the expected words.

  ‘There we go,’ Amelia murmured. ‘A nice strong heartbeat.’

  Ali’s head shot up. ‘Really?’

  Amelia pointed at the little jellybean on the screen. ‘See, there’s the head, resting on the yolk sac like a pillow. And there’s the heart beating.’

  Ali zoned out as Amelia took measurements and calculated beats per minute. The baby was alive. Against all probabilities, she had a child growing inside her. She’d been given another chance.

  Tom

  Tom was sitting in front of the TV on one of his rare nights at home when Ali called. She seemed tense when he answered, and his own body stiffened in response.

  ‘How’s work?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s great. I’m working harder than I ever have before, but I get plenty of chances to play hard too. How about you?’

  ‘Much the same.’ She sounded a little flustered. ‘Although not playing so hard these days. Or at all, really.’

  Guilt flooded through Tom. He shouldn’t have mentioned that bit, but he’d had this stupid impulse to make it sound like he was so much happier than he actually was. ‘Well, you’ll be impressed to know I’m having dinner from a can tonight. It’s hard to get excited about cooking for one.’

  She laughed. ‘I’m still eating Hazel’s casseroles from the freezer.’

  ‘How is Hazel?’

  ‘Good. We have dinner together once a week.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve reconnected with her.’ Tom had always had a bit of a soft spot for Hazel, and it was a relief to know that Ali had someone to support her now he was gone.

  ‘Tom…’ She didn’t go on.

  Suspicion shot up Tom’s back. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I need to… I wanted to tell you—’

  Tom panicked. ‘What? Ali, what? Are you drinking again?’

  ‘No!’ She sounded upset.

  ‘Then what were you going to say?’

  ‘Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I was just calling to say hello. Sorry to disturb your night.’

  ‘Ali, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.’

  ‘It’s OK. I don’t blame you. I’d better go. Bye.’

  A hollow beep sounded in his ear before he had a chance to say anything else. Tom threw the phone down on the couch. He really was an idiot sometimes. She’d obviously wanted to say something important and he’d jumped straight down her throat and accused her of being back on the booze. Next time he spoke to her, he’d apologise properly. Next time, maybe he’d have the courage to tell her how much he missed her.

  Ali

  ‘What’s wrong, love?’

  Ali looked up from her plate. Hazel had brought dinner over for her, but she’d been pushing her food around with her fork and eating little.

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Come on,’ Hazel said. ‘I may not be in the running for mother of the year but even I can tell it’s not nothing.’

  Ali sighed. ‘There’s something I should’ve told someone. And I haven’t.’

  Hazel frowned. ‘Is this someone Tom?’

  Ali nodded.

  ‘Why haven’t you told him?’

  ‘I tried,’ Ali said. ‘But when I spoke to him, he was… he seems so happy in Sydney. This would only complicate things for him.’

  ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you,’ Hazel said gently. Ali bit her lip and nodded again, and Hazel clapped her hands in triumph. ‘Ha! I knew you two would get down to business that day.’

  Ali flushed. ‘Mum!’

  ‘What? Just because I’m your mum doesn’t mean I can’t talk about sex.’ She winked at Ali. ‘Maybe I’ll even get lucky again myself one day.’

  Ali put her hands over her ears. ‘Jesus, stop! Anyway, if you’d just stayed like I asked you to, this never would’ve happened.’

  Hazel laughed and hugged Ali. ‘Congratulations, love. But you have to tell Tom.’

  Ali sat back and sighed. ‘I know. But I keep expecting something to go wrong, so I’ve been putting it off.’

  ‘Tom would be back in a second if he knew.’

  ‘That’s the problem. He’s happy now. I don’t want to drag him back here out of some sense of obligation… or worse, crash his bachelor pad in Sydney.’

  ‘He’ll be thrilled.’

  ‘But the point is, I’d never know that for sure. He might always resent me for pulling him backwards.’

  Hazel raised her eyebrows. ‘So, what, you reckon it’ll be easier to wait until the baby comes out?’

  ‘I need more time.’

  Hazel’s face softened and she hugged Ali again. ‘I’m so happy for you, love.’

  Before

  Ali hadn’t arrived yet, so Tom ordered a beer and stood at the bar to wait for her. Even after three months together, the tingling anticipation of seeing her again buzzed through him.

  He was just finishing his beer when two women approached the bar. Tom could feel their glances on him as they ordered their drinks, but he busied himself with checking his phone. They sidled closer, drinks in their hands, and he flashed them a quick smile. Back when he’d been single, Tom had relished the attention he got from women, and he’d rarely had to pursue anyone. Even when he’d been in relationships, he’d enjoyed a bit of harmless flirting with other women. But things had been different since he’d met Ali. The flirting game felt hollow and childish.

  ‘Hard week at work?’ one of the women asked, and he reluctantly dragged his gaze up to meet hers. Her thick, bleached blonde hair hung over her shoulders, obscuring half her face.

  ‘Uh, yeah,’ he said. ‘You?’

  Her friend laughed, the kind of ringing laugh that demanded attention. ‘We’ve been here for a conference the last couple of days, so not exactly working.’

  ‘Plenty of playing, though.’ The blonde winked, and they both laughed.

  Tom forced his face to keep smiling. He looked around for Ali, willing her to walk in now and save him.

  ‘I’m Lena,’ the girl with the laugh said. ‘And this is Jodie.’

  ‘Tom.’

  Jodie flipped her long hair back over her shoulder. ‘What are you up to tonight, Tom?’

  Tom’s gaze scanned the crowd and relief rushed through him. She was here. Her eyes met his and she smirked when she saw his company.

  ‘Everyone told us Adelaide’s boring, but I bet you could show a couple of Perth girls a good time,’ Lena said, and the two of them laughed loudly.

  But Tom only had eyes for Ali. She had stopped now and was watching him, a teasing expression on her face. She wasn’t going to come and rescue him.

  ‘Sorry, ladies.’ Tom turned his body sideways to walk between the two women. ‘My girlfriend is here.’

  Tom

  It was halfway through autumn, but Sydney didn’t seem to want to loosen its grip on summer. Tom
spent most of his evenings out on the balcony, where he was afforded a sliver of a harbour view, with two bottles of beer and whatever takeaway he’d bought on the way home.

  When he’d called Ali to apologise for accusing her of drinking, she’d called him two days later, and it wasn’t long before they were speaking almost every night. Tom found his work days dragged by as he waited for the moment he could talk to her again. The attraction of going out every night had worn off, and with their conversations to look forward to, he didn’t feel quite so lonely.

  She sounded tired whenever she called, but the satisfied kind of tired that used to make her happy. Being a journalist again suited her. Part of him wished she was as miserable as he was so he’d have an excuse to tell her he still wanted to be with her. But he couldn’t ask her to uproot her life now that she’d finally become grounded again. So he didn’t speak of his feelings, and their conversations remained focused on their work. Nevertheless, every day Tom’s optimism grew that they would find a way back to each other.

  One evening, as soon as his colleagues had headed off, Tom escaped home to call Ali. He finally had the courage to ask her to come and visit him in Sydney for a weekend, but she instantly became evasive.

  ‘I often have to work on weekends,’ she said. ‘It’d be hard for me to get away.’

  Tom assured her there’d be no pressure, that he’d sleep on the couch or book her into a nearby hotel if she preferred, but she only sounded more uncomfortable. Tom was disappointed. No, he wasn’t just disappointed, he was angry. After the weeks of genial conversation, of building his hope that they would soon be reunited, he deserved more than lame excuses. She must have thought that to visit him would be some kind of regression. Obviously, she didn’t feel the same way as him. Maybe she’d met someone else. The idea made Tom’s insides burn. He cut the conversation short and left his apartment immediately.