by L. S. Pullen
I leave the doctors surgery in a haze of disbelief. How is it possible to be both excited and yet terrified at the same time? The thought of telling anyone, of saying it out loud, knowing the questions that’ll follow—who is the father?
She told me I’m high risk, and maybe, just for now, I want to keep this news to myself. I don’t want this bubble to burst.
I take a seat on an empty bench just inside the park opposite; my hand covers my stomach, and a nervous smile floods my face. I haven’t been back to my church since everything fell apart at the seams and my life changed irrevocably.
Maybe I was angry at God for a long time, but it was no more his fault than it was mine. My faith, although altered, hasn’t ceased; I still believe in a higher being, that there’s more out there than we can ever understand.
Right now, at this moment, I do believe miracles are possible. I send up a silent prayer. Please let me go full term. I can be a good mother.
I wipe away the trail of happy tears and smile to myself. I can do this.
Chapter 21
Sophie
Buzzing vibrates on my kitchen counter, the phone gyrating on the surface with each vibration. I’m tempted to ignore it, but then I see it’s Charlie.
“Hello?” I breathe out when I answer.
“Hey, how’re you feeling?”
My stomach shifts, I stutter my response, “Fine, why do you ask?”
“Flick said you hadn't been feeling well.”
I let out a puff of air. “Oh, yeah. Just a stomach bug, nothing to worry about.”
“Well I’m about, do you want me to grab you anything? I can bring soup or something…”
My emotions are heightened. It’s my hormones, I’m sure of it, but his kindness sends a spike of guilt down my spine.
“Soph?”
“Oh, sorry. No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”
“I thought I could pop around. I grabbed a DVD and thought we could catch up?”
I hear the hopefulness in his voice and look at my watch. “Haven't you got work?”
“Not today, nope.”
“Okay, that sounds like a plan.”
“Nice, I’ll be round in about an hour.”
“See you then.”
I pace, bite at my thumbnail. What the heck was I thinking to agree to him coming over? The truth is, ever since the break-in, I haven’t felt as comfortable being home alone. I’d never admit it to anyone. They may not say it, but I know they worry about me. At least I listened to Charlie and let him talk me into getting an alarm fitted, makes me feel a little better, but I still have this weird feeling I’m being watched.
I study the room. It was partly furnished when I moved in. I couldn’t afford to stay on at Simons once he moved. He would’ve insisted on paying for me, but I couldn’t allow that—not with a clear conscience. I look and feel like crap, and my lack of housekeeping of late is borderline deplorable. I’m not usually this bad. I frantically begin to clean up. The last thing I need is him to start getting suspicious or asking questions.
A knock sounds and I glance to the giant clock hanging on the wall. He’s a little early, but at least my house doesn’t still seem like a bomb went off.
I open the door but find no one there. I close the door, my skin prickles, and I shudder. My heart racing, I think maybe it was just my imagination, and no one knocked. I’m exhausted, that’s all.
I startle when I hear another knock and pause, my whole body on high alert. Another knock sounds.
I stand there in the hallway and clear my throat before calling out. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
I let out a massive sigh before opening the door. Charlie’s smile fades when he sees my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just some kids playing knock down ginger, I think.”
“A what down ginger?”
Sometimes I wonder if he ever had a typical childhood experience.
“Charlie, it’s a game. You dare your friend to knock on someone’s front door and then run away before they open it without getting caught.”
He gives me a blank expression, and I sigh. “I heard a knock at the door and thought it was you. But when I opened it, no one was there. Never mind…” I step aside, allowing him to enter.
He pulls his arm from behind his back and hands me a mixed bouquet and a kinder egg. My cheeks heat as I take them, my hand slightly trembling at the unexpected gesture.
“Thank you.”
He nods, staring down at our feet. I follow his gaze.
There between us, face down, is an envelope. He bends down to pick it up, and passes it to me, closing the door behind him.
“I’ll just go put these in some water. Do you want a tea?”
“It’s cool, I’ll make it,” he says, following me into the kitchen and going straight to the kettle. He lifts it to check the water before popping it back down and flicking the switch on.
I pull out a vase from the cupboard and fill it halfway with water. I grab the scissors from the drawer, trim the stems before poking them into the vase, and spreading them out. I smile, satisfied, and place them in the middle of the table.
He stares at me with a smile on his face, which I return before I pick the envelope up. The folded sheet of paper inside, scrawled in red ink reads, Doctors what's that for? The clap? You whore.
The smile slips off my face. I feel sick to my stomach, and my hands begin to shake. I fold it in half, toss into the drawer, and slam it shut.
“What's the matter?”
I shake my head, unable to answer.
“Let me see it.” He steps into my space. Leaning around me, he pulls open the drawer and grabs hold of the paper.
He grinds his jaw. “It's him, isn't it?”
I shrug, but it’s him. The writing, his tell-tale scrawl.
“I think we should take this to the police.”
He’s probably right. I know he’s right, especially after the break-in. “I can’t deal with that, not right now.”
He lets out a sigh. “Has there be any others?”
“A couple.” I bite the inside of my cheek. The furious scowl on Charlie's face is enough to make me quiver. I try to avoid his penetrating gaze.
“Did you keep them? Where are they?” I tilt my head down, and he follows my line of sight back to the drawer.
“He can’t keep getting away with this. First, he breaks in, and now he’s what, stalking you?”
I don’t know what he sees when he looks at me, because he reaches out and takes me by the shoulders and pulls me to his chest. And just like that, breathing isn’t a struggle, and I feel grounded. There are only a handful of people who have the power to create a calm over me, and I don’t know when he became one of them. I wrap my arms around his waist and grip his shirt. The sound of his heartbeat lulls me to safety.
When I release my hold and drop my arms, he leans and kisses my forehead before turning back to the kettle. He gets out two cups, but I shake my head.
“I’m sticking to water, thanks.”
He puts the extra cup back and finishes making his tea, before pulling out the DVD from the carrier bag he’d left on the table.
“Memphis Belle,” I say aloud.
He lets out a chuckle. “Believe it or not, I do pay attention to you and Flick sometimes.”
As we head into the living room, and I sit down, he loads it into the player before sitting beside me. It’s a two-seater sofa, but it’s oversized, giving us both a nice amount of room. I don’t think I could concentrate if we were any closer.
He pulls the throw from the back of the sofa and places it over me.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a small smile.
“I’m here to take care of you, Soph, you’ve been ill. I want to make sure you’re okay,” he says, focusing on the TV.
I can’t help but think how he really would make a great boyfriend, and out of nowhere, from somewhere long ago buried, I feel a longing, a want I haven’t
felt before.
He points the remote and presses eject once the film has finished.
“Thirsty?” he asks.
“Yeah, you? What can I get you?”
He shakes his head. “I’m here to help you. What do you want? Tea?”
“No, I’ll just have herbal tea please.” And then my stomach lets out a low grumble.
“Hungry?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, my appetite’s been crap trying to get over this bug. Not sure what I can stomach.” I internally flinch at my lie…not a bug, my baby—our baby.
“I’ll figure it out,” he says.
The smell of toast drifts into the room, and my stomach grumbles again. It’s all-encompassing, homely and familiar.
When he comes in, he’s made me cheese on toast, and my taste buds salivate for the first time in days. I sit up as he places the tray in my lap.
“Thank you.”
As he loads another DVD I cut up the toast and take a mind-numbing bite, letting out an audible hum. When I open my eyes, he’s peering over his shoulder toward me with a pained expression on his face, shaking his head. He returns, pressing the remote and Underworld begins to play. At some point, he removes the tray from my lap. I pull my legs up underneath me, content and full for the first time in what feels like days.
Charlie
I must have fallen asleep. The film has long since finished and is back at the start menu. I peer over to Soph, she's out for the count.
“Hey, Soph, it’s late.”
She stirs but doesn’t fully wake. Damn, she’s exhausted; the slight grey tinge under her eyes makes me wonder if she’s been getting any sleep these past weeks. My heart squeezes. I stand and then reach down, taking her in the throw and all, bringing her into my arms.
She blinks her eyes open. “What?”
“I’m taking you to bed, Soph. You’re exhausted.”
She rests the side of her head on my shoulder, and I carefully navigate the stairs, taking her into her room. I gently place her down and glance around. She’s decorated in here since the break-in.
She muffles something to me, and I have to crouch down to hear her.
“Stay.” It’s the breath of a whisper. She scoots back towards the wall, and I kick off my trainers and lay down beside her. She moves into my side, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I’ve been trying to stay away, not wanting to keep pushing, but as much as I love our friendship, I don’t see why we can’t have that and so much more. Is it because she’s worried that I don’t know how to be in a relationship? Because for her, I can do it, entirely, without question, I can be monogamous.
I understand now what Nate meant now about his feelings for Felicity. I just never thought it would happen to me. All these years, I thought I was immune like I could will it away. I wipe the hair away from her face. She’s warm under my touch. She murmurs something in her sleep that I can't quite catch. All I can make out is something about her mum.
And then she moves closer to me. I wrap her a little tighter in my arms and listen to the sound of her breathing. The air around me pulsates with something I can’t decipher, but for now, I’m content being with her even if it’s just for a little while.
I’m jarred awake when I feel her crawl over me. Then she makes a wobbly dash out of the room. Discombobulated, I throw my legs over the edge of the bed. In a couple of strides, I am outside the bathroom where I can hear her being sick.
“Are you okay?” I call out.
She lets out a groan. As I push open the door, she goes to say something but then is leaning back over the toilet bowl. I scoop her hair out of the way. I used to do this for my mum when she was sick from the chemo. Even though she hated me seeing her like that, I didn’t care if it meant helping her.
Worry tightens in my gut. Please let this be a bug. I don’t know why I’m even thinking like this. When she’s finished, she drops the toilet lid and flushes before plonking down on the seat.
“Sorry about that,” she says, wiping her mouth with toilet tissue.
“Don't be.”
“You stayed?” Her eyes meet mine.
Unsure what to say, I run the tap and wet a flannel before ringing it out and passing it to her.
She meekly wipes her face, and then says, “Thank you.”
“Can I get you anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, I think I just want to brush my teeth and take a shower.”
Taking that as my cue, I turn and leave her in the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
I glimpse my watch. It’s just after seven. I pull on my shoes and then go downstairs to wash up the plates and clean away the kitchen. I switch on the kettle.
When she comes down, she’s in a long towel dressing gown. “Thanks again for coming over. Sorry, I fell asleep.”
I wave it off. “That’s what friends are for. I should get going. Are you going to work today?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
She smiles weakly, and if I didn’t know better, I would say something else is going on with her, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. The echo of the clock from the living room invades the heavy silence. I feel a little uncomfortable openly staring at her like this. She at least appears more rested today.
“I’d best be off. I’ll text you later, okay?”
I lean down, kissing her cheek. It’s a physical fight to keep away from her lips. I step back and then turn to the hallway and walk to the front door. “Don’t forget to set this when you’re in alone, and when you leave,” I say.
“Yes, Dad,” she says in a pretty good Australian accent.
I laugh as I leave her standing at the door. Hopping down the front steps, I glance back, and she waves at me before closing it behind me.
Chapter 22
Charlie
I asked Flick to keep it quiet about meeting up with me today, but I’ve been researching something for a few weeks now, and I need her to help me pull it off.
“What do you think?’ I ask her as we survey the empty shop.
“Yeah, it’s kind of perfect, but I don’t know how she’ll feel about you being the beneficiary.”
“She’s too proud and headstrong for her own good. And if I can help make her dreams into a reality from the shadows, then I’m going to do it.”
“I hate the idea of lying to her,” she says, wringing her hands together.
“Listen, all I am is the landlord leasing the shop. The rest is on her. She’ll be the one who has to get this off the ground. It’ll be on her to make it work.”
I hand her the folder containing the contracts I had my solicitor draw up and let out a relieved breath when she takes them.
“You believe in her, don’t you?”
I nod.
She grabs my hand. “Tell me again why you two aren’t together?”
“Because she just wants to be friends,” I say with air quotes.
She eyes me with pity. “I'm not sure she knows what she wants.”
I wish that were true.
“Did she tell you about the dip shit sending her letters?”
Her face pales. “What?”
“That idiot has been posting her nasty letters.”
“You’re joking. I had no idea,” she says, looking both annoyed and worried. “Wait, how do you know about them?”
“I found one on her floor when I went to see her yesterday, and I saw how her face contorted when she read it. I didn’t give her a chance to stop me from reading it. And that’s not all. She was spooked when I got there—something about kids playing knock something ginger.”
She stares at me, confused for a few seconds then lets out a small laugh. “Oh, knock down ginger.”
I roll my eyes.
“What did it say?”
The more I think about it, the more my hackles begin to rise. “You sure you want to know?”
“Yes, I’m her best friend.”
�
�It said you went doctors, what have you got the clap, you whore?”
She clenches her fist. “What the fuck… why would he say shit like that? She’s wary of guys, but she seems to keep picking the idiots.”
Pacing, she becomes more furious. “She’s not a slag, Charlie. She doesn’t sleep with a different guy every week. And even if she did, that still wouldn’t make her a slag or a whore. It’s her fucking body. And it’s her choice.” Her breathing comes out harsh, and I blanch, slowly stepping toward her, palms up.
I take her shoulders in my hands. “Please don’t work yourself up. I’m struggling to hold my shit together as it is. I am this close to tracking the cunt down and gutting him,” I say, barely separating my finger from my thumb in front of her face.
A few stray tears escape her lids. I swipe them away and pull her into my chest. I’m an arsehole. She doesn’t need me making this shit worse.
Stepping back, she looks up at me. “Sorry, I’ll try and talk some sense into her about reporting it to the police.”
“Please. If she’ll listen to anyone, it’ll be you.”
Leaving her, I head straight to the gym and find Olly.
Gritting my teeth, I pull out my gear from the locker and get changed. He’s already waiting for me, holding up the rope for me to climb into the ring with him.
“You free to spar?” I ask before popping a guard in my mouth.
He gets a glint in his eye, holding up his fists. “Bring it on, Boss.”
Chapter 23
Sophie
I have my first scan today. Because I’m high risk, they recommended one at six weeks and then again at ten. How I’ve managed to keep this to myself is a surprise even to me.
When I saw Charlie’s concern for me when I was sick, the way he held my hair out of the way…had me desperately wanting to tell him.
But I didn’t.
So, for now, and the foreseeable future, I’m alone in this and more nervous than I can even comprehend right now.
It doesn’t help that the whole thing’s uncomfortable. A vaginal scan—just fantastic. I automatically tense, same as when I’ve had my smear tests. My body locks up. I stare at the grey ceiling, my heartbeat pulsing so loud I can hardly hear what the nurse is saying. It’s my nerves. They’re all over the place. She touches my arm, and I flinch involuntarily, my face beads with sweat.