As he finishes speaking, three things happen at once. The kettle starts to shrill, the dogs let out a happy and piercingly loud yip, and the door on the other side of the room crashes open and closes on a gust of freezing air, depositing a dishevelled Lulu in the kitchen.
“Did I hear the kettle, Da? I’m gasping for a cuppa and some toast. This bairn will make me pay if I don’t feed it soon.”
She’s rugged up for the weather. A thick woolly cap clings to her head, her wild mane of blonde curls springing from beneath it. A waxed coat covers her to the knee, almost meeting the thick socks her jeans are tucked into. Her cheeks are pink from the cold and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. And then my mind screeches to a halt.
“Bairn? Bairn?” My eyes drop from her cheeks, which are now white with shock, to her belly, almost hiding beneath the wax coat. Her not-so-small, no-longer-flat belly. Her hands wrap over the bump as though to protect it.
Neither of us speaks as we stare at each other across the now too-hot room. Duncan says nothing but continues to clatter around making a pot of tea, finally thrusting a chunky mug at each of us. The silence stretches on. It’s so quiet I can hear my heart thundering.
“I’ll go and leave you two to talk. You’ll have a lot to say, I expect.” Duncan and the dogs slip out the door Lulu came in, leaving a bellowing silence behind them.
“Nick. What …what are you doing here?” She sinks onto a chair by the table. Tea sloshes over the rim of her mug because her hands are shaking so much.
I struggle to latch onto something coherent to say. “I came to get you back. You’re pregnant?” Not my most articulate moment.
“Oh. Yes.” It seems Lulu, too, is having difficulty with words.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” It doesn’t occur to me that the baby isn’t mine.
She sighs. “Yes. Of course, I was. I just … I needed some time.”
“Time? It’s been over a month. How much time did you need?” I’m pacing now. Unable to contain the energy coursing through my body.
I watch as her hackles rise. “Over a month, apparently.”
“So youjust needed timeto tell me you werecarrying my childbecause …?” I’m trying to keep my cool, but my voice rises to a shout anyway.
“Because? Because?” The only word for her tone is incredulous. “Because you didn’t want a relationship. You made that crystal clear. And you never talked about it being any more than what it was. No strings. Casual.”
“That’s a pile of steaming bullshit, Lu, and you know it. Whatever we were, it was never casual. Not for me anyway. And I don’t think for you either.” I can feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “You were the one talking about ending things, not me.”
She manages to look contrite and angry at the same time. “Yes. I was. But you convinced me not to. And look what happened.” I can see her tears threatening to fall, but I’m so angry and hurt I can’t seem to dial it back.
“What happened is not what you saw in the paper.” I’m in danger of pulling all my hair out. “It was all lies. Concocted by my mother. Who, by the way, is a controlling narcissist. But you never gave me a chance to explain. You just took off. Is this your idea of punishing me? Because it worked.”
“No. I’m not punishing you. I needed time to think. I wasn’t expecting this. I had an implant. I had no plans to have a baby. And I was confused. And angry. And scared.” By now, she’s yelling too, and those tears are threatening to overflow.
The tears finish me off, and I sink onto a chair on the other side of the table, as desperate to calm down as I am to have answers.
“When did you realise you were pregnant?” It’s barely more than a whisper.
“I found out the morning of the exhibition opening. And then the next morning, there was that story. I saw the pictures, Nick. You were holding her hand. It said you were engaged. I asked you about what your mother said at the office that day, and you made out like it was nothing. But you never talked about there being anything more between us. You never told me you were planning on going into politics. What was I to think?” Tears are rolling unchecked down Lulu’s cheeks, sobs choking her words. The last of my anger drains out of me, leaving behind frustration and regret.
“Jesus, Lu. You didn’t have tothinkanything. You just needed to listen. I would have explained everything. You could have trusted me. What did you think all those weeks we were together were about? How could you ever imagine I might want someone else? You were the only one I wanted. Youarethe only one I want.”
“How was I supposed to know that? You never told me. You never said anything, and I never wanted anything more either.”
That stings like a slap in the face. Guilt and fear and hurt churn in my gut.
“No. You made yourself pretty clear during my trip to Melbourne.”
“I was scared. It was all getting too … too …” Her hands flap, like birds searching for a word to land on.
“I could see that. And maybe I didn’t make my feelings clear. Because I didn’t want to scare you off. But couldn’t you feel it, Lulu?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know what to think. Or how to feel. And then I found out about the baby.”
“I can’t believe you kept something like this from me.” I can see how my words are landing in her already stressed heart, but mine is stressed too.
