‘I’m trying to help. Look at yourself.’ She nods towards me. ‘You’re shaking.’
Her concern is pissing me off. ‘I don’t need a babysitter, Reeni.’ I sidestep the chair and back up again. ‘This is none of your business. I don’t need you dredging up the past. We’ve dealt with it. It’s over.’
‘Is it?’ she says quietly. ‘You can’t keep burying the past if this is what it does to you. I know you don’t like talking about it. I’ve avoided bringing it up with you, and maybe that was my mistake. I only ever talk about babies as briefly as I can with you and I got carried away with this test, so I’m sorry for that.’ She pushes the test into her back jeans pocket so it disappears from sight. ‘But I’m your best friend and I lived all of it with you and I accommodated your need to ignore it because I love you.’
I stay silent, not wanting to listen to her home truths, but unable to make my feet move.
‘But if you don’t open up to Jackson, it will all end in a mess. The pair of you cannot keep your heads buried in the sand. He’s as bad as you if he’s not bringing it up. It’s stupid.’
‘Stupid?’ I spit back, embarrassed at being schooled in my own foolish behaviour. ‘Who the hell are you calling stupid? If your relationship was so perfect, you wouldn’t be here wanting to put me through the trauma of a pregnancy test. You’d bedoing it with your perfect husband in your perfect relationship in your perfect fucking house.’ I glare at her, daring her to respond.
‘Do not bring Aaron into this.’
‘Why not? You’ve driven him around the twist doing anything and everything to try to get pregnant when you have a perfectly good family right here. You should be grateful for what you’ve got. Even you said Aaron can’t face sex with you anymore. Who does that to their husband?’ My voice has tipped over into near hysteria.
Reeni opens her mouth to bite back when Olly toddles into the room, holding his Jeep and trailer. They’ve come apart and he pushes them into his mum’s hands.
‘Fix them, Mummy.’
She doesn’t take them from him and is still staring at me.
‘Mummy, they broken. Fix them, pease.’
I swallow. ‘I’d better go.’ I nod towards the back door.
‘Might be for the best,’ she says. And then she ends the conversation by turning her back on me and bending down to be level with Olly so she can reattach his trailer to his Jeep.
Chapter Eighteen
I’ve avoided everyone for the past week. OK, that’s not strictly true. I’ve sent out two texts, one to Reeni and one to Jackson, and was deafened by the silence of no reply from either of them. So, I did the only thing I knew. Turned off my phone and hid in the safety of my own home, mostly under the duvet. I decided that the photography night was a horrendous idea and applied for an interview with the local bookie’s. And I kept opening my banking app to see how much I still had in my account and tried to work out how long I can make it stretch out for.
It had crossed my mind to ring Mum for some sympathy, but I’m so embarrassed that I’ve failed at everything, I haven’t plucked up the courage. If Dad answered I would be able to hear his disappointment in me all the way from the Lake District and I don’t think I need to feel worse than I already do.
I’ve spent nearly the whole week in my pyjamas watching daytime telly and even I am fed up with myself now. I promisedmyself today would be the day I pulled myself together. It’s still taken me until eleven in the morning to be showered and dressed, but at least I’m up and ready to face the day. Progress, I suppose. I unplug my phone from the charger and turn it back on. It comes to life and dings almost immediately. I snatch it back up, crossing my fingers I’ll see Jackson’s or Reeni’s names. I sink onto the wooden kitchen chair. It’s neither of them. It’s a text message from a number I don’t recognise.
My phone dings again and two more text messages pop up from unknown numbers. Bloody spam. Although, to be fair, falling in love with a Nigerian prince who has a fortune to give away sounds just about perfect right now. I go to delete and block the numbers when the wordsphotography nightcatch my eye. I’m curious enough to read the message.
SENDER UNKNOWN:I heard about your photography tuition night and it sounds lovely. If there’s still space I’d love to take a place. Please let me know the place, time and date. Thanks Sarah.
I frown and scroll to the other two messages. They are both along similar lines, asking to join the photography night that I’d decided to abandon. How the hell does anyone know about it?
The room seems to fold in on itself and I have a desperate urge to get out into the fresh air. I leave my phone on the side and grab my satchel and head outside.
‘Perfect timing.’
My head snaps up as I bump straight into a beaming Greg. Of all the people I am desperate to see, he is not one of them. The phone call telling him it was over was awkward enough.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m being who you wanted me to be.’ He smiles even wider as if that explains everything.
I frown at him, clueless.
‘Spontaneous.’ He nudges me, taking in my confusion. ‘The tie and the hair were stupid. This is better. Go pack a bag.’
‘Go do what?’ I’m stunned.
‘Pack some things. I’m taking you away for a few days. And …’ there’s a dramatic pause, ‘… we’re going with your parents. I thought with the café closed and everything, you could do with a break before you start at the office with me.’
