‘Bloody hell. You own the Camper Café?’ Reeni almost shouts.
He beams. ‘I’ve been working on the van for ages in secret and finally got it finished. Any time you fancy a coffee, come on over.’
‘I have my own fabulous coffee here, thanks,’ I quip.
‘I know, but who doesn’t love a bit of friendly competition?’ Milo says with a wink.
I hate the fact Milo is going to be the reason for my downfall, because he’s impossible to be angry with.
With Milo gone, Reeni shoves me. ‘You have no excuse now to get the café moved. It’s only Milo you have to talk to.’
I chew on my lip. Something tells me it’s not going to be that simple.
Seventeen Years Ago
Six weeks since my last period.
I stare at the test, nausea bubbling away inside me like lava about to erupt.
I’m not. I can’t be.
Jackson drops my hand. I rub at my eyes with the cuff of my navy school jumper. Now is not the time to be mis-seeing things. ‘Maybe it’s a mistake.’ I study the two lines filling the window, hope expanding inside me. One is strong and undeniable, but the other is barely there. ‘Shouldn’t they both look like that one?’ I point to the first line.
‘Don’t know.’ His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. ‘Do these tests get things wrong?’
I nod with a confidence I don’t feel. ‘Everything gets things wrong sometimes.’ I give him the test back. ‘Did you say you had another one?’
Jackson gets to his feet and goes into the bedroom. Hereappears ten seconds later, carrying the second blue-and-white box, and without a word, pushes it into my hand.
I take it and walk back into the bathroom.
This time I really don’t have any wee, so I rinse out the pink plastic cup covered in rainbows that we stand our toothbrushes up in. Once it’s filled with water, I put it down on the sink ledge, then turn my attention to the box. I strip off the cellophane and open it to take out the test. The packaging drops into the sink. I pause and grip the edge of the sink, sick rising into the back of my throat.
I take a gulp of water. I cannot be pregnant. I don’t want to be pregnant. A tear trickles down my cheek, betraying me, and I rub it away roughly.
After what feels like an eternity, I’ve squeezed out enough wee and I put the lid back on the test and go to rejoin Jackson on the landing, forgetting all about washing my hands. I hand him the test and we stand side by side watching the darkening of the result window make its way down the strip. It takes forever, but eventually it hits the control line, which darkens to a solid blue line. Then it creeps on. I hold my breath, willing no more lines to appear. I am not pregnant …
Gradually my wee reaches the space for the second line and it appears again too. Not as dominant as the first, but definitely there.
The test shakes in Jackson’s hand. ‘Shit.’
‘No.’ My voice is a tiny wail, and it’s opened the floodgates to tear after tear tracking down my face. Jackson reaches out and wraps his arms around me, pulling me towards him. I lean into his chest, my whole body shuddering with sobs, my mind blank.
He hears the key in the front door before I do.
‘I thought everyone was out for the night,’ he hisses.
I stand, staring up at Jackson’s face, dazed. We are supposed to have the whole evening to ourselves. Dad is away at somemeeting or other and Mum is meeting her best friend, Sandra, for drinks. There should only be us here.
‘Ellie?’ Mum’s voice floats up the stairs.
He jerks away from me, the movement jolting me back to reality.
‘I’ll be down in a minute, Mum,’ I call.
Jackson is already collecting up everything and shoving it in his rucksack.
I straighten up and slap both of my cheeks before wiping my nose along my sleeve. ‘I have to go before she comes to find me. Sorry. Do I look like I’ve been crying? Don’t make any noise when you leave, will you? She’ll kill me if she finds out you’re here when no one else is in.’ I grasp the side of my bedroom door. ‘I’m scared.’
