He coughed and then fell silent. “Remember Jaycee, the girl from the history department I was seeing?”
“I do. Vaguely.” Caleb’s girlfriends had a habit of blurring into one.
“Well, she had a bit of a scare. It was after we’d finished. She wasn’t pregnant so it was okay.” I could hear the relief in his voice still. “I wasn’t ready for that.”
“I thought you were always careful.” He’d said many times that he was precious about his condoms.
“We were. No sign of any breakages, but she was late. Anyway, no baby, thank fuck. You ready to take the test?” He sounded calm, which was helping. I envied Jaycee, having him there, especially if she’d been panicking like I was right now.
“I can’t be pregnant, Cay. It’s not the right time.”
“It’s not the right man either, but we can deal with that later.” Still calm. And firm.
“We?”
“We. If you are, I’m there with you. You know that. I always will be. Now piss on the stick thing.”
I was crying again, too choked up to answer with much more than an okay.
“I’ll phone you back when I’ve done it.”
“Why? It isn’t like I haven’t heard you have a piss before, Zo. I was there when you were drunker than Mavis after five sherries and peed on your new boots.”
“Can’t you ever forget that?”
“Nope. Just like you don’t let me forget when I fell asleep in the bath in a pool of my own vomit.”
“You realise those events were almost a decade ago?”
“Time flies. Go on, get it over and done with and then you know.” He carried on talking while I rearranged myself, following the instructions and happy for once that I had a full bladder.
Caleb kept the verbal diarrhoea up until I flushed the toilet with my elbow, holding the phone in one hand, the pregnancy test in the other, waddling to the sink with my underwear round my ankles.
“How long left?” He came back to the issue at hand, literally.
“About twenty seconds. What if I am?”
“We’ll deal with it. What if you’re not? You keeping that arsehole as your boyfriend or getting rid?” There was an unusual edge to his voice.
“Getting rid. As soon as I’ve found out, I’ll text him.”
“Text is a bit harsh, isn’t it?”
“Not really.” Relief rushed through me like a fresh coastal breeze. “It’s negative. Thank fuck, thank fuck, thank fuck.” I sat down on the edge of the bath. “I’m so relieved.”
“So am I, Zo. I mean, I’d have made a fucking amazing uncle, but - ”
He stopped speaking and for a second the silence was palpable.
“But what?”
“But nothing. What are you going to do now?’
I let it pass, although I was curious about what he was going to say. Relief remained as the overwhelming emotion. “Have a bath. Sleep. I’m on a flight home tomorrow.”
“Back to London. I’ve got a long weekend off work – do you want me to drive down to London and meet you?”
“That would be amazing. I don’t think I’ll be very good company though.”
