“Someone said you were being sick out here,” he replied.
“Do you need to come inside and let us have a look at you?” the nurse asked.
“No I’m fine, thanks.”
I lifted my shaking hand to run it through my hair.
“Have you taken something?”
The nurse stepped nearer and looked closely into my eyes, the light from the overhead lamp disappeared as she moved forward, shrouding us in darkness.
“Fuck no,” I cried.
“So why do you think you were sick?” she asked, standing straight again, her eyes examining me closely.
“Eaten a bad sandwich,” I said curtly, wishing she’d just fuck off and leave me with my self-hatred.
She frowned and glanced at the security guard. “Okay, but if you need any help just go to A&E.”
“I’m fine,” I sighed, pushing up from the bench and starting to walk away. A little more self-loathing hit me and I paused and turned around. “Thanks for asking though.”
She nodded and said something to the security guard that I didn’t hear and then they both turned to go back inside the hospital. As the door swished closed, I made my way back to the car park, emotion pricking at my throat with every step.
Sitting in my car, I stared up at the floors of windows of the hospital, wondering which one Maisie and my son were in, wondering if I should go back and apologise. I had no clue what to do. I was so fucking scared of going through the same shit as I had at eighteen – of being made a fool of again. I didn’t want to be a dad, I didn’t want to be responsible for another human being, yet I felt like the biggest shit at the same time.
I picked up my mobile and scrolled through my contacts until I found Elijah’s name. My finger hovered over the thumbnail of his face, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him because he’d hate me, especially as he would give anything to be in my shoes. His disappointment would kill me.
Staring through the windscreen it hit me that I had no one to talk to, no one to ask for help, to tell me what to do. No one to tell me I was wrong, no one to even tell me I was fucking right and as guilt and fear clawed at me in equal measures, I felt wetness on my cheeks.
The breath I dragged in turned to a sob, everything I’d holed up inside me from the age of eighteen beating its way out of me as a pained cry.
“I fucking hate you,” I screamed, beating my hand against the steering wheel. “You’ve fucking ruined my life, I hate you.”
No one heard or saw me. No one stopped to check if I needed anything.
I had no one and I never would because my heart was black and hard.
Maisie
the present
“So, what’s this about?” my dad asked as he and Mum sat down. “Why the big secret and why did Libby have to take Frankie out for tea?”
I took a deep breath and passed them both a mug of coffee, giving myself time to try and calm my nerves.
“Well?” Mum asked when I finally sat opposite them.
“I needed to talk to you, about Josh and about Frankie’s dad.”
I’d lain awake most of the night after we’d got home from pizza, thinking about what had happened and what Sam had said and I knew if he decided being a dad to Frankie was what he wanted, I’d have to tell my parents. They’d been the ones who’d supported me from the minute I’d told them I was pregnant and was doing it alone, so I owed it to them to tell them all about Sam.
“What about them – he isn’t Frankie’s dad is he?” My mum looked and sounded horrified, but when Dad growled her name, she quickly checked herself. “I mean, I’m sure you’d have told us before now if he was.”
“No, Mum,” I replied. “He isn’t, but you should know we broke up.”
Neither of my parents could hide their relief, both of them sagging back against the cushions on the sofa in a synchronised move.
“What happened?” Dad asked.
