by Kate Hardy
Thankfully they were so busy that she didn’t have time to think about it during her shift; but there was only one way to prove to herself that her missed period was just a blip, caused by a change in routine or stress or whatever. She couldn’t be pregnant.
Once she’d done her handover, she drove to an out-of-town supermarket, put a magazine in her shopping basket and then slid a pregnancy test underneath it, so if she did bump into someone she knew they wouldn’t see the test and jump to conclusions.
She knew the drill and she was pretty sure that this test would be the same as every one that had broken her heart when she and Dan had been trying for a baby and her period had been a couple of hours late. When she’d taken a test, full of joyous anticipation, hoping that this would be the month their dreams would come true. She’d pee on the stick and wait for a minute; the line would show up in the first window to say the test was working; and then...
With every test, the other window had stayed stubbornly blank. And each one had sucked away a little more hope, until the point where they’d gone for testing. They’d expected that the problem was hers; the doctor had dropped the first bombshell, but Dan had dropped the bigger one.
She shook herself. That was then. This was now. And the test would just confirm that of course she wasn’t pregnant. She performed the test, set the stick on the sink on the ledge between the taps, washed her hands, and glanced at the stick. It was all exactly as she expected: one window with a line to show that the test was working, and one blank window.
So she wasn’t pregnant.
She stared at herself in the mirror. ‘See? You were just being paranoid and stupid and ridiculous. Of course you’re not pregnant.’
She knew she should have felt relieved. But she felt the echo of all the failed pregnancy tests from before, and it made her sad. She’d thought her life would be so different. That she, like her sister, would find it easy to get pregnant. That she and Dan would have children. Be a family.
There was nothing wrong with being single. You didn’t have to have a partner and children to be fulfilled. She had a family she loved, a job she loved, good friends.
Except, deep down, she was lonely. Sharing her flat with Rob for a week had reminded her that she enjoyed living with someone else.
Though Rob had made it clear that person wouldn’t be him. That he didn’t want to settle down.
Tonight, she decided, she’d start looking for a flatmate.
She was just about to wrap the test and drop it in the bathroom waste bin when she realised that the second window had changed when she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t blank any more.
There was a line. A faint line, but it was definitely there.
She stared at it.
No way. This had to be some kind of mistake.
She blinked, and stared again. The line was still there. And now her certainty deserted her. Did that mean it was a positive test—or was it a false positive? Was she actually pregnant, or was it just a hormonal blip?
If she was pregnant, then she’d need to tell Rob. He had the right to know that she was expecting his baby. But she had no idea how he would react. Would he decide he had to do the right thing, and then resent her for trapping him? Or would this make him want to leave even faster?
When she’d asked him if he wanted kids, he’d said he thought he’d be a terrible dad. But would he really? Children needed to know they were loved. Rob was impulsive—but he’d been unfailingly good with their patients, paying attention and listening to them. The way he spoke about his family left her in no doubt that he loved them dearly. She was pretty sure he’d love their child.
What she wasn’t sure about was how he felt about her. He’d comforted her when she’d let that case get to her—but then it had turned to kissing. So was it just all about the sex? And was that enough for a relationship? Or would she fail as badly as she had with her marriage to Dan?
Though she could hardly call Rob and talk to him right now, not when she wasn’t certain.
Even two and a half years ago, the prospect of doing a second test to check it was a definite positive and not a mistake would’ve filled her with elation. Right now, she just felt confused: as if her world had tilted and she was sliding towards the edge.
Pregnant.
A baby.
The thing she’d wanted so much for so long, and thought wasn’t possible.
Wasn’t the saying, be careful what you wish for?
Because now it looked as if she might have her wish.
She wanted a baby. She wanted a child with a deep, visceral longing. Yet, at the same time, she was terrified. Being a parent wasn’t easy; being a single parent was even harder, even though she knew her family and friends would be there for her.
Right then, she didn’t have a clue what to do.
She could call Lexy—of course she could—or her mum. They’d both support her.
But Rob was the one she wanted to talk to most. And, until she was absolutely certain it wasn’t just a blip, a false positive, she couldn’t call him.
* * *
The obvious thing to do now was a second test. She headed back to the supermarket, and this time bought a different test—the all-singing, all-dancing sort that could be done even before you missed a period and told you in writing how many weeks pregnant you were. And this time she bought a double pack, in case something went wrong with the first test.
Back at her flat, her chest felt tight and she could hardly breathe.
And she couldn’t squeeze out a single drop of urine to do the test.
She drank a glass of water. Paced up and down her flat. Waited. And she still didn’t need to pee. ‘Oh, for pity’s sake. Don’t be so wet,’ she told herself. She made herself a mug of coffee, on the grounds that caffeine irritated the bladder and made you want to pee more quickly. This morning—and in fact all day at work—she hadn’t wanted coffee; but, if need be, she’d hold her nose so she could drink the stuff. She added enough cold water so she could drink it straight down, and paced the flat again. Yet still she didn’t have the slightest urge to pee.
It was driving her crazy. She needed to know the answer, and she needed to know now. Was she or wasn’t she pregnant with Robert Langley’s baby? Just how long did it take liquid to go through your system? Was this how Rob felt all the time, twitchy and edgy and scattered? How did he cope, short of heading up the nearest mountain?
‘Argh,’ she said. Distraction. That was what she needed. Something to take her mind off it. Sewing was usually her answer, but this time she couldn’t concentrate. She kept thinking of Rob when she’d taught him to sew: his beautiful blue eyes, his nearness, how she’d been tempted to steal a kiss. And that really, really, wasn’t helpful.
OK. Chores, then. She vacuumed the living room, then glanced at her watch. Surely more time must have passed than that?
What next?
Maybe some yoga would help her settle. She tried some of the moves she’d learned at class, but they didn’t help. She couldn’t concentrate. Not until she had the answer.
Then finally, finally, she was ready to take the test.
Every nerve-end prickled. Would it be positive—or would it be negative?
She took a deep breath, did the test and capped it. As before, she left it on the ledge of the sink while she washed her hands. She could feel her pulse speeding up as she waited for the result to show; or did her pulse only feel faster because the seconds were dragging?
A line appeared in the first window, so the test was definitely working.
Now for the bit she needed to know. Pregnant or not?
She wasn’t aware that she was holding her breath until the words actually appeared on the screen; and then the noise that came out of her mouth was the kind of wail that shimmered between joy and despair, everything all mixed up together.
Sh
e was pregnant. More than two weeks. Which fitted with her dates and the night she’d spent with Rob.
She sank down on the floor, drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped arms round her legs.
What now?
One thing she was definite about: she was keeping the baby, whatever happened. All those years of longing meant there was no way she’d choose a termination or to carry to term and have the baby adopted. This baby might not be planned, but he or she would most definitely be loved. She knew her family would support her and so would her friends.
But she had to tell Rob that she was expecting his baby.
It was the kind of conversation they needed to have face to face. Even a video call wasn’t good enough. She didn’t want to leave any room for misunderstandings.
She grabbed her phone and texted him.
Need to talk to you about something. Are you free this evening?
He didn’t answer immediately, but she tried not to be unreasonable about it. He might be busy doing something with his brother or his parents. His phone might be accidentally on silent so he wouldn’t know he’d got a text; or it might not even be switched on at all. The battery might have run out. There were all kinds of reasons why he wasn’t answering.
There was still no answer after half an hour.
This wasn’t something that could wait, because it would weigh on her mind. Though it was definitely not something she wanted to discuss at the hospital.
She’d have to bite the bullet and call him. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she went into her contacts list and pressed on his name. She could feel her pulse accelerating as the line connected; but after two rings the call went to voicemail. She waited for the beep to leave her message. ‘Rob, it’s Florence Jacobs. I’d appreciate it if you could call me this evening, please. It doesn’t matter what time. Thanks.’
Then she groaned when she ended the call; she must’ve sounded so snooty. Florence Jacobs. How many Florences would he know? But she could hardly call back and gabble something else now.
‘Robert Langley, you are the most annoying man in the universe,’ she muttered. ‘Why is it so hard to get hold of you?’
It could be hours until he returned her call. And she needed to eat—for the baby’s sake, if not her own. Plus she needed to work out what she was actually going to say to him. She made herself an omelette, grabbed a pen and paper to make notes about how to tell him, and just taken the first bite of her dinner when her phone rang and Rob’s name flashed up on the screen.
She gulped the mouthful down and hit ‘accept’; but the food went the wrong way so she was coughing like mad when her phone connected.
‘Florence? Are you all right?’
She swallowed a mouthful of water and coughed a bit more. ‘Yes.’
‘I just got your message,’ he said.
‘OK.’
‘You asked me to call you. Which I’m doing.’
‘Thank you.’ But everything she’d meant to say went out of her head. Why hadn’t she written it down before she’d even called him the first time?
‘Florence? Are you still there?’
‘Uh...yes.’
‘What did you want?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I need to talk to you about something.’
‘I gathered that.’ She couldn’t tell if he was irritated or amused. ‘I’m listening.’
‘I... Not on the phone.’
She could practically hear the frown in his voice. ‘Are you all right?’
That rather depended on your perspective. ‘Yes.’
‘Then what...?’
He sounded confused. Yeah. She knew how that felt. ‘Can we meet?’
‘Do you want me to drive over to you?’
‘No. I’ll come to you.’ If, when she told him the news, and he decided that he didn’t want to be involved—which was what she was expecting—then at least she could walk away with her head held high, rather than be the one left behind.
‘What time?’ he asked.
‘I’ll leave now. See you in a bit.’ She ended the call and forced down the rest of her meal; then she brushed her teeth, stuck the pregnancy test in an envelope and the envelope in her handbag, and drove over to his flat.
The only time she’d been to his flat before had been the day he’d come to stay with her. She hadn’t taken in their surroundings as he’d packed an overnight bag.
Bearding the lion in his den. Or would Rob be a lamb rather than a lion?
She had absolutely no idea how he was going to react to her news. He’d kept his distance from her over the last week or so, not even suggesting grabbing a coffee or lunch together on the days when they were both rostered in Minors. So did that mean he’d back away even further when she told him about the baby?
There was no point in trying to second-guess him. And as for how to tell him... She was beginning to think that the best way was to be blunt.
She flicked on the stereo, and switched it off when she recognised the song as one of the ones she and Rob had caterwauled along to, the day he’d taken her out for a pizza when she’d been feeling low after her shift. He’d teased her into a brighter mood, and they’d laughed until they’d hurt.
It had felt so right.
But then it had gone so wrong...
She parked outside his flat. There weren’t butterflies fluttering in her stomach; it felt more like a stampede of panicking dinosaurs.
She rested her hand on her stomach. ‘You can do this, Florence Emily Jacobs,’ she told herself. Then she hauled herself out of the car, walked up to the entrance to the block of flats, and pressed his intercom button.
He answered immediately. ‘Hi, Florence. I’ll buzz you in.’
And he met her at the door, looking concerned. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘OK. Come and sit down.’
His flat was super-neat and very minimalist; there was almost nothing on any of the surfaces, other than some framed photographs on the mantelpiece. It felt more like a show flat than a home.
She perched on the edge of one of the chairs.
‘So what did you want to talk to me about?’ he asked.
‘There isn’t an easy way to say this.’
‘Say what?’
Oh, God. Why hadn’t she practised this? In the end, the words came blurting out. ‘I’m pregnant.’ When he said nothing, panic filled her. ‘I’m telling you simply because you have the right to know, but I don’t expect anything from you.’
He still said absolutely nothing.
Which told her everything. He wasn’t interested. And she couldn’t take him rejecting her the way Dan had. She needed to leave. Now.
‘That’s all,’ she said, and stood up. ‘I can manage everything on my own, so don’t worry that I’ll demand anything from you. It’s fine.’
* * *
She was pregnant.
With his baby.
Rob couldn’t think straight.
He’d had no idea what she might want to talk to him about. His focus over the last few days had been entirely on trying to work out how to persuade her to take a chance on a proper relationship with him.
Now she was telling him she was expecting his baby.
He shook his head to clear it; it didn’t work.
But then she stood up, ready to walk out of his life.
He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.
‘Florence. Don’t go,’ he said. ‘We need to talk about this.’
‘There’s nothing to say. I know you don’t want kids.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s not a problem.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s not true. I’ve never said I don’t want kids. And I don’t...’ He shook his head. ‘Please. Don’t go. Let me process this. Let me get my head straight so I
don’t say something stupid. And if I do say something stupid, cut me a bit of slack. Because all it means is the words are coming out wrong.’
For a moment, he thought she was going to leave anyway.
But then she nodded.
‘Can I get you some cof—?’ He stopped, mid-offer. Were pregnant women meant to avoid coffee? Would the smell upset her? ‘Tea? Water?’
‘No, thanks. I’m fine.’
‘Forgive me for pacing. I’m not—It’s not you, it’s me,’ he said. ‘I need to move about when I’m thinking.’
‘OK. I get that.’
To his relief, she sat down again.
He took a deep breath. ‘First of all, are you all right?’
She looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected him to think of her welfare. ‘Yes. At least, I think I am,’ she qualified. ‘I’m still getting my head round this.’
‘So when you did find out?’
‘This morning. It’s not like me, having to drag myself out of bed.’
‘No.’ He looked at her. ‘Then what?’
‘My toast tasted funny. I didn’t want my coffee.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And I realised my period was late. Normally it’s really regular.’
‘So you did a test at work?’
‘After work. I bought one on the way home. And then I went out for another one.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’
‘The first was just to prove to myself that I was being ridiculous. I couldn’t be pregnant. Apart from the fact we used protection, you’re on immunosuppressants with your kidney, so that affects your fertility—doesn’t it?’ She frowned.
‘I don’t know. It wasn’t even an issue at the time,’ he said. ‘I was single when I went abroad. When they offered me the transplant, my focus wasn’t on when or if I planned to start a family with a girlfriend who didn’t exist, it was on getting fit enough to work again and be able to go climbing. So, actually, I’d need to look at the meds I’m on and check the details.’