‘You don’t need to do that,’ I tell her. ‘I’m fine!’
‘I know you are, Suzie. But I’m working this afternoon, and I have to take Kitty with me, which will be about as much fun as a hedgehog to the eyeballs, much as I love her. Jake is currently looking after her while I have my run. That’s our deal. And he doesn’t know I’ve finished my run, does he? Hence, if I come back with you, and have a sneaky coffee and a chat, then he’ll think I’m super-dedicated to my fitness regime, and also I’ll get an extra half hour of peace before my surgery starts. See, it’s a win-win. You’d be doing me a favour.’
‘Well,’ I say, nodding. ‘When you put it like that, I’m practically a saint, aren’t I?’
We walk together back to the little cul-de-sac, and I have to admit I’m grateful for the company. She keeps up a steady stream of chatter as we head inside, then orders me to go and sit down.
‘Would that be doctor’s orders?’ I ask, laughing.
‘Absolutely. Don’t argue with Dr Zhivago. I’m going to make you a mug of tea and a slice of toast, and you’re going to accept both with grace and charm.’
‘Huh,’ I say, watching as she ties her dark blonde hair back, and gets to work in a kitchen she is obviously familiar with. ‘That would be a first for me. Would it be okay with you, doctor, if I nip to the loo first?’
She shoos me away, and I climb the stairs up to the bathroom. I’m feeling tired and weedy, like I could crawl under the duvet for a million years. I’m also now getting a strange cramping pain in my lower belly that I’m trying to ignore, but which is refusing to let me. My back has been tender all day, but I’ve just been putting it down to my bad night. Was I wrong? Is there something more going on here?
I clamp down on a flare of panic as I remember what happened last time I was pregnant. This is not the same, I tell myself. This is one baby, and this is later, and I am doing well. There is nothing going wrong.
I go into the bathroom and go to the toilet, and then I see it on the tissue. Spots of blood. A cold sense of dread creeps over me, crushing me, paralysing me. I can’t speak. I can’t move and I can’t think. All I can do is feel.
It’s happening again.
I force myself up and out of the bathroom, put my hands against the wall for support and manage to stagger along to my bed. I sit on the edge of it, my eyes wide and fixed, cold and numb and incapable of doing anything but staring straight ahead.
I have no idea how long I am there, sitting like that, alone. It is clearly longer than I think, because Ella walks into the room looking concerned.
‘You okay?’ she asks. ‘You were gone a while…’
I glance up at her, and she immediately sits next to me, and takes my trembling hands in hers. ‘What’s wrong, Suzie?’
Everything about her is reassuring and calm, and the touch of her fingers finally seems to kick me out of my shocked state.
‘It’s happening again,’ I say quietly, my lips quivering around the words, my heart a dull aching thud in my chest. ‘I feel weird. And there’s blood.’
‘How much blood?’ she asks briskly. ‘And what kind of weird?’
‘I’ve been off all day, but now I’ve got stomach pain. And there wasn’t too much blood, but we both know what it means, don’t we? I always knew this would happen, deep down. I was stupid, letting myself hope, letting myself get carried away like this…’
‘No, we’re not going to do that,’ she tells me, standing up and getting out her phone. ‘We’re not going to assume the worst, all right? I know that assuming the worst is natural, and maybe it feels like a talisman – like if you expect the worst, it won’t actually happen. But this is what we’re actually going to do – we’re going to get you to the hospital, and have you checked out. There are lots of reasons for this to happen that don’t signify a serious problem. This could be entirely harmless, and there’s no point thinking anything else until we know. Are you hearing me, Suzie?’
I nod, trying to believe her. Trying to see the logic in her words, the sense in her thought process. I’m not doing very well at that and just feel flat and grey.
‘I can take you,’ she says. ‘I just need a few minutes to make some arrangements. I can cancel my afternoon surgery, and I’m sure Connie will watch Kitty. It’ll be fine.’
A slight edge of stress seeps into her voice, much as she tries to hide it. It’s enough to chase away at least some of my stupor.
‘I’ll be okay to get myself there,’ I tell her. ‘I can maybe get a cab?’
I don’t sound very convincing, which is not surprising as it’s hard to get taxis in Starshine Cove.
‘No, you won’t be getting a cab, Suzie. Just let me sort a few things out, and I’ll drive round and collect you, and we’ll go to the maternity unit together.’
For some reason, it’s this that pushes me over the edge. The thought of being at the maternity unit. The last time I was there it was such a stressful but ultimately joyous occasion. Guy came with me, and it was the first time I saw my baby. The first time I heard its heartbeat and saw its tiny waving limbs. The first time I believed this might actually be real. But what if it’s not?
Tears spill onto my cheeks, and I feel like my heart is breaking – crumbling inside my rib cage. My body is made of jelly, weak and shaking and insubstantial, and my mind is barely functioning. This is the ultimate SOS situation.
‘Can you ask Guy to come too?’ I manage to say, even the sound of his name on my lips making me feel calmer, allowing me to take the next breath. ‘I know he’s probably in the pub by now, but he won’t be drinking, and?—’
‘And he won’t mind,’ Ella finishes for me, nodding. ‘Of course. Give me a moment.’
