‘Mum said we could have her bedroom and she’d take mine.’
I turn my head to look at him. ‘You’ve talked about it with your mum?’
He shrugs almost apologetically. ‘Not really about the moving-in stuff, more about our row. I was in a mess after I’d fucked up with you.’
‘What did she say?’ I ask, curious.
He shifts sheepishly on the bench. ‘She gave me a flea in my ear. Told me I was insensitive.’
I raise my eyebrows at him.
‘And told me if I was going to be having sex without thinking it through, then I had to be mature enough to deal with the consequences and not throw my toys out of the pram when it suited me. That I had other people to think about now.’ He rolls his eyes at me. ‘She basically gave me a dressing-down and told me I needed to grow up. And then she gave me a huge hug and told me whatever happens it’d be OK.’
‘I like your mum.’
‘Hmm. I like my mum too.’ He runs his fingers along the grain showing through the worn, painted wooden seat. ‘If we’ve ruled out adoption, then we’re left with the option of you moving into mine or …’ His voice peters out.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take in a breath. ‘… no baby and life goes on as normal.’
There. I’ve said it and the words hang in the air between us.
If I am totally honest, and I can barely even voice this in my own head so there is no way I am saying it out loud, I’d love there to be no baby. I want to wake up tomorrow and not be pregnant. Not have to think about cracked nipples and stitches down there and not being able to sit down and shitty nappies and no sleep. To be able to get rid of it, the baby, and feel no guilt. Not have a worry in the world about having made that decision and following it through. But then there’s the baby’s heartbeat whichI now can’t get out of my head and the little flickering blip of life that we saw on the screen earlier.
I swivel to fully face Jackson and hold his golden eyes in mine.
‘I don’t think I can do it. Get rid of it. Get rid of our baby.’ I bite my lip hard. ‘I think we should have it.’ I don’t know if I think that at all, but we have to make a decision somehow.
‘Are you OK with that?’
I give an unimpressed laugh. ‘I don’t know if OK is the right word. But yes, I think so. Are you?’
His eyes bore straight into me and a quiver zigzags down my spine. ‘I don’t think I wanted to get rid of him or her either.’
I take a breath and the edges of my mouth tip up. ‘We’re really doing this then. Being responsible for a mini human being.’
‘It looks like we are. I know this isn’t how we thought life would go.’ He runs his finger down my profile, over my forehead, nose and chin and my insides explode with fireworks.
‘You think?’ I interrupt with a smile. ‘Does Milo know he might be about to become an uncle?’
Jackson scoffs. ‘He’s only eleven, I don’t think he has a clue.’
I sigh and pull at the waistband of my school skirt. I don’t think I’ve put on too much weight, but it’s definitely getting tighter to wear and it’s causing me to feel little sharp darts of pain.
‘Are you OK?’
I put my hand on my hip and arch my back. ‘Yes. I’m tired, that’s all.’ I pull the cushions towards me and try to relax into them.
‘I want to look after you and the baby.’ Jackson pulls a shiny silver screw out of his school blazer pocket and begins twiddling it between his fingers. ‘I’m never leaving you. You know that don’t you?’ His eyes are soft and send a surge of heat through me. ‘Mum doesn’t want me to leave school early to get a job though.’
My brows crease. This is news to me. ‘You were going to leave school?’
‘We’d have a family. I wanted to earn some money so we could live, but Mum thinks we can both still go to uni like we planned, we’ll just need help along the way.’ His shoulders drop and he stares straight ahead. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Ellie. My head’s fucked. What’s your mum think?’
‘She doesn’t want me to have it. She wants me to have an abortion so she can avoid having to tell Dad,’ I say bluntly, because I don’t know how else to say it.
Jackson stiffens beside me. ‘Bit late for that advice. Anyway, I thought we’d decided.’
‘We have, haven’t we?’ I say angrily. I sneak a look at him, but he’s staring down to the side of him furthest away from me. ‘I need to find a way to tell Dad.’
