‘Why not wait until we can all do it together?’ Mimi said. ‘How about next Saturday when we’re all free? We can start early and get a good run at it.’
‘Good idea,’ Aoife said. ‘That attic is long overdue a clear-out anyway.’ They were all aware that they’d shoved a lot of stuff into the attic after their parents died to avoid the pain of sorting through it all.
Mimi nodded. ‘Who knows what else we might find up there?’
Lots of upsetting memories probably, Sive thought.
‘Why has no one asked me what I’m going to wear?’ Rocco asked, faking annoyance, and everyone laughed.
‘I refer you to our official wardrobe mistress,’ Mimi said, waving at Sive.
‘Gosh, it’s not much time to plan a wedding, though, is it?’ Sive said. ‘Don’t people usually take a year or more to organise them?’
‘Not a problem to us,’ Mimi said with a shrug. ‘After all, what’s a wedding but a piece of theatre? And we all know how to put on a show.’
The rest of the meal passed happily, and Sive lost herself in the wedding chatter, swept up in the buoyant mood. But later when she was alone in her room, she again had that niggling feeling that she’d forgotten something – a problem she needed to focus on and solve. If she could pinpoint whatever it was, maybe it would explain why she’d been feeling so unsettled the past couple of days – strangely sad and melancholic, with no discernible reason for it. But once again it eluded her.
She tried to put it out of her mind as she got into bed and turned out the light. It was probably just hormones. She didn’t usually suffer from PMT but—
She gasped aloud and shot bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding. That was it! She was late.
10
This waswhat had been eluding her ever since the closing night party, the source of the persistent unease that had plagued her for the last few days. She thought back to that night, finally grasping what had triggered it. Mimi had said something about her and Rocco wanting to have a family and Sive had asked if she was pregnant. And so the idea was planted in her brain, buried deep in her subconscious like that pea under the princess’s bed in the fairytale.
Any relief or satisfaction she felt at finally rooting out the cause of her unidentifiable anxiety was far outweighed by the panic brought on by its discovery.
But surely she couldn’t be pregnant … could she? She switched on the light and took her diary from the drawer of her nightstand, flipping the pages frantically and counting the days since her last period. She was a little reassured that she wasn’t even a week late yet. That was normal enough, wasn’t it? And she’d been stressed and tired lately, so that could account for it.
She closed the diary and lay back against the pillows, making a conscious effort to breathe deeply and calm down. She was probably worrying over nothing. She’d give it another few daysand carry on as if everything was normal – and hopefully by the end of the week it would be. If not … well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. She wouldn’t even mention it to Aoife and Mimi for now. There was no point in getting them worked up about what was most likely nothing.
But what if it wasn’t? What would that mean for her career? And what about her and Sam? She couldn’t start dating him now, knowing there was a possibility she was pregnant with someone else’s baby. And she’d have to tell Ben. How would he take it?
She lay down and tried to stop her mind from spiralling about all the implications. But it was no use. To distract herself from her spinning thoughts, she pulled out her laptop and started researching Victorian costumes for the show.
By morning, her search history was a curious mixture of queries about nineteenth century London fashion and early signs of pregnancy. She had barely slept, nodding off for an hour or two just before dawn. As soon as she woke, she was instantly bombarded once again with thoughts of pregnancy and all its ramifications.
She sat up wearily, trying to still her mind. She might not even be pregnant. If she was, there’d be time enough to worry when she knew for sure. Until then, she should try to bury the idea back down in her subconscious where it belonged. But no matter how much she told herself she couldn’t know until she’d done a pregnancy test, deep down she was already convinced what the result would be. A test would just confirm what she already knew.
Her thoughts drifted once more to Ben. How would he feel about it? Would he resent her for disrupting his life just as he was starting a new relationship? Not that it wasn’t his fault too– in fact, it was more his fault than hers. Why had he waited a whole week after coming home to break up with her? If he’d done it straight away, this would never have happened. Would he want to be involved with the baby? And how would Anna Purna feel about that? Maybe it would split them up. What if it did and Ben ended up resenting the child for it …
She was spiralling again. Sighing wearily, she threw back the duvet and swung out of bed. Maybe a yoga session would help her calm down.
She felt more sanguine by the time she got to rehearsals that morning, less convinced of what she’d been so sure of last night. The normalcy of the process helped, and she threw herself into it, grateful to have something that demanded every scrap of her energy and attention, blocking out all other thoughts and concerns, at least for a few hours. She was also glad of Mimi’s engagement pulling focus. The company was abuzz with the news, everyone surrounding Mimi to congratulate her again and coo over the ring, so that no one seemed to notice that Sive stuck to mineral water when they went for post-rehearsal drinks that evening and cried off early, pleading a headache.
It felt weird talking to Mimi and Aoife in the days that followed and not saying anything, and she felt guilty about keeping this huge secret from them. But acting as if everything was fine also helped her to feel calmer, as if the pretence made it real. She tried to avoid being alone with Sam, now dreading the longed-for date with him.
The general air of camaraderie among the large ensemble cast helped. They had quickly become a close-knit group, trooping off to the pub together after rehearsals, sharing gossip and bonding over pints and in-jokes. She and Sam were constantly surrounded by the rest of the cast, whether in therehearsal room or the nearby Italian restaurant that had become their regular haunt for post-rehearsal debriefs over pizzas and plates of pasta. She resolved to establish her and Sam’s relationship as friends and nothing more, deflecting any attempt at flirting on his part by feigning obliviousness and not joining in.
But even with the whole company watching, rehearsing their scenes together felt uncomfortably intimate. With Sam focused on her alone, everyone else seemed to melt away and it was as if they were the only people in the room. When they danced together at the Fezziwigs’ Christmas party and the stage directions required them to gaze into each other’s eyes while the narrator said that something was happening between them, the shivers down Sive’s spine were all too real.
‘Any plans for the weekend?’ Sam asked her on Thursday during a break in rehearsal. They were standing in line for the coffee machine. ‘I thought maybe we could get together and run lines.’
‘I’ve got something on tomorrow.’ She had a hot date with a pregnancy test kit unless things changed in the meantime. ‘And on Saturday, I’m clearing out the attic with Aoife and Mimi.’
‘Wow, you girls know how to party!’ Sam laughed.
‘Yeah.’ Sive smiled weakly. ‘Why don’t you ask Orla?’ She tilted her chin at the actress who was playing Fred’s wife, Clara. ‘She’s cute, isn’t she?’
