‘Why not?’ said Alexandra at the same time as Meg said, ‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘It would ruin his life,’ said Lizzie.
‘But what about your life?’ said Lizzie and Meg in unison.
‘That’s what I said,’ David muttered.
‘Seriously, Lizzie!’ said Alexandra. ‘Have you thought about this properly? It’s not a minor problem that will go away if you don’t think about it.’
‘Well …’
‘Honestly,’ Alexandra went on. ‘My nanny had a friend who was another nanny. This nanny came over to tea and told my nanny about her sister who was pregnant. She was Norwegian, I think. Anyway, her parents made her marry some man she didn’t know just to give the baby a father.’
‘My parents won’t do that,’ said Lizzie, but as she said it, she wondered if she was right. Supposing they did? They couldn’t make her marry anyone, but they could try.
‘But what are they going to do?’ Meg asked. ‘Are they going to say: “Come home, darling, we’ll help you bring up the baby. We don’t mind in the slightest if you have a baby out of wedlock – it’s the sixties now after all”?’
Lizzie felt sick. There was no way they would say anything like that. Her mother’s loss of face would be terrible. She’d never be able to hold her head up in her community again – attitudes there hadn’t changed. Her father would be livid. He might not throw her out into the street, but he’d want to.
‘I won’t go home. I won’t tell them,’ she said. It seemed the only answer.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Alexandra, firmly but not unkindly. ‘They love you. You can’t not see themfor nine months and then somehow conceal the fact you’ve got a baby.’
Lizzie put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. ‘I haven’t thought about it properly yet. I may not be pregnant.’
‘Lizzie is going to get an appointment with their family doctor,’ said David. ‘She’ll think of something – some female thing – to tell her mother, to explain why she doesn’t want to see a doctor in London.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ said Meg.
‘Cystitis,’ said Alexandra. ‘Never had it myself but I’m told it’s agony.’
‘By one of your nannies?’ asked Lizzie, glad to have the attention drawn from her for a moment or two.
Alexandra nodded. ‘One of the few advantages of having been more or less brought up by people very much younger than my parents is that I know all sorts of things most people my age don’t.’
‘It’s not necessarily a good thing, Lexi,’ said David. ‘There is such a thing as being too sophisticated for your age.’
Alexandra shrugged. ‘Anyway, this isn’t about me. We have to get Lizzie sorted out.’
‘Are you sure you’re pregnant?’ asked Meg. ‘This may be a false alarm.’
‘I’m not sure at all!’ said Lizzie. ‘But I think I am because I’m so regular usually and I feel a bit strange.’
Alexandra cleared her throat. ‘OK, I’m going to ask the question but I think I know the answer: you wouldn’t want the problem taken away by a very expensive clinic where you book in under an assumed name?’
Lizzie’s reply was instinctive. She shook her head in horror. ‘No.’
‘You seem very certain,’ said Meg. ‘Have you thought about it a lot?’
‘No. I haven’t thought about it at all because it’s just not an option for me,’ said Lizzie. ‘I don’t know why I’m so certain. I just am.’
‘Are your parents likely to want you to have an abortion?’ asked Alexandra gently.
‘How would I know? It’s not a conversation I’ve ever had with them.’ Lizzie felt suddenly tearful. Perhaps she wasn’t pregnant, just very premenstrual and emotional. ‘I think they – well, it’s my mother really; I would never talk about any of this with my father – I think she just assumed I wouldn’t have sex before marriage.’
‘Which brings us back to the beginning,’ said David. ‘Don’t you think Hugo would marry you? If he knew you were pregnant?’
‘He’s engaged to someone else, David!’ said Lizzie. ‘I thought you knew that.’
