by Palmer, Dee
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off but not to state the bloody obvious but we aren’t together so I can’t make any assumptions. You can’t make any assumptions. It was the smart thing to do. ” I nod because in light of his accusation I have a cold tingle down my spine knowing that although I may not be a tramp, I am irresponsible. “Daniel, you wouldn’t see me, you wouldn’t even take my call. Why would I not think you’ve moved on?” My voice is shaky and I have to swallow back the building threat of tears. “Why wouldn’t you take my call?” It’s his turn to roughly pull his hands and turn away.
“I don’t work that way I told you that. This way it’s easier. Cleaner.” His cold words are clinical and precise as a scalpel.
“Oh well that’s good to know, wouldn’t want to make a mess.” I snap with as much contempt as I can manage.
“This whole thing is a fucking mess and that’s not what I meant. It’s too fucking hard. It has to be like this for now.” He puts his head in his hands and I can almost hear his teeth grind then his head suddenly snaps up his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What did you mean I couldn’t make assumptions? Are you fucking someone else?” He snaps.
“Look I don’t have to do this with you!” I snap right back. “We.Are.Not.Together.YOU.LEFT.ME.” He fixes me with his enraged glare but unflinching I hold his contact. He shakes his head, walks toward me, takes my hand and leads me to the sofa. I pull my hand from his hold and he grabs it right back with a grumble.
“Why did you safe word Bethany?” The fury has vanished and he is again full of concern. I deal much better with the anger. After some long silent moments and some resigned sighs I answer the only way I think will explain.
“Self-preservation.” He lets me take my hand this time. He huffs but doesn’t try to take it back.
“I should have told you about your safety project. I just wanted to get it started, these things are often time sensitive and I didn’t want you missing out. I should have told you from the start but it was easier to make the application under my R&D company banner and transfer it over to you once it was all certified. That will still happen.” His calm assurance and dismissive tone is like this is just a natural way of things and should automatically mitigate any misunderstanding on my part.
I am not even surprised he never asked or that he never told me and I don’t even care anymore. It was my project now it isn’t. How or when it gets to market will have little to do with me so I may as well let it go now. Less I have to do with Daniel the more protected my heart will be. I don’t want to come across as a martyr by walking away from something he knew was important so I will just let it go when the time comes. What is important is my course and the accusation that Chris Taylor made about my credibility.
“Fine.” I nod and leave that for another day. “I don’t want this to impact on my course.”
His brows furrow and he looks confused. “Why would it?”
I snort and shake my head. “Well, it could be inferred that since this project is a Stone application and the date was long before I came on the scene, some may think I stole it. I can’t have that suggestion shadowing any of my course work. You have a connection with the University and they are more likely to believe you. I just can’t risk losing this too.” My voice waivers and damn I can feel my eyes prickle. He grasps my hands again.
“I wouldn’t do that Bethany, never, believe me. I would never lie to you.” His voice is sincere but it doesn’t prevent the bitter laugh that escapes my tight lips. He scowls.
“Well you have me there Daniel.” I pull my hands again and stand. “I will have to believe you about this. There is nothing else I can do I’m just a lowly student but don’t start with a lie because it really doesn’t fill me with a whole heap of confidence.” I walk to the door but just as I open he rushes and slaps his hand flat slamming it shut.
“When did I lie to you?” He growls. We are silent for long moments before I reply.
“You said you’d never hurt me.” My voice is quiet and he freezes at my words allowing me to open the door and walk through. I am surprised that he follows me to the lifts, he is close but silent. I lean to press the button and notice something flutter to the ground. Daniel bends to pick it up.
“Why the fuck do you have Jason’s business card?” He waves the card in my face and I try to take it but he pulls it away out of my reach.
“He was being kind, he wanted me to have it.” I sigh, exhausted and not needing another fight.
“Oh I just bet he did.” His tone ripe with sarcasm.
“How is it any different from your ‘friend’ getting my details from Colin exactly?” It appears I do have some strength after all.
“I told you I didn’t discuss my personal life and I meant it. There is no fucking way Colin would give your details to anyone and that includes Jason. You are not to see him Bethany.” His clipped demand is filled with anger.
Oh I can feel my hackles rise, my back straightens and I have fire in my eyes as I challenge. “Really? Well it’s a good job it has fuck all to do with you.” I jab my finger on the lift call button because it is taking forever.
“He has particular tastes . . . he—” He can’t seem to finish his sentence. God he looks furious, frustrated, mixed with anxious.
“—I know Daniel, I was there remember?” At last the lift arrives I hold out my hand for him to give me Jason’s card but he very childishly tears it up with a smirk on his face. I let out a frustrated puff and walk into the waiting lift.
“No matter.” Turning, I smile indulgently. “Lucky for me Jason does take my calls.” The lift doors close and I grin. Ok, now that was childish, but damn it felt good.
I didn’t sleep well and I was up a good hour before my alarm was due to go off. In light of Daniel’s throw away comment about my contraceptive shot I didn’t want to wait for the surgery to open to call on the off chance they had an appointment. I wanted to be parked outside the front door. This was an emergency. The receptionist walks up and eyes me suspiciously and before she opens the door she turns to face me.
“You know if it’s an emergency you could go to A & E. The doctors won’t be here for another half hour.” She has a haughty air and a clipped tone.
“No that’s fine; it’s not an emergency as such. I just wanted to be here when you open . . . um . . . on the off chance.” I try to smile but I am a bundle of nerves and anxious worry. The last thing I am capable of now is trying to melt the resolve of an irritated gatekeeper.
“You don’t have an appointment?” Her incredulous accusation would be more fitting if she had cried ‘murderer!’ She huffs as she jangles her very important keys and opens the door. “You can’t wait inside.” She adds and slams the door.
I perch on the wall beside the entrance and mumble to myself ‘what a shocker! I mean because you’ve been so warm and fuzzy.’
“Bethany?” I look up to see Dr Ward smiling at me. She is smartly dressed in an immaculate navy skirt with bright pink silk blouse. She is carrying her doctors case and her jacket is slung over one arm because despite the early morning its sticky warm already. “First sign of madness, talking to yourself.” She laughs lightly and stops in front of me with a soft quizzical look on her face. She must be in her late forties, minimal make up on flawless pale skin, light blue eyes and scraped back blonde hair.
I smile tightly, still too distracted to make small talk. All I manage is a nod and civil greeting. “Good morning Dr.Ward.”
She opens the door and motions for me to follow her. “I bet Cathy told you to wait out here?” She whispers as I follow close behind.
“Well I don’t have an appointment and—”
Dr Ward laughs conspiratorially. “Oh well that explains a lot. Look it’s obviously important, I am sure I will fit you in. I know I’m booked but if you don’t mind waiting we can sort something. Go take a seat; I’ll go do the peace keeper thing with Cathy. I will see you shortly.” She walks over to the reception desk and I t
ake a seat in the far corner of the waiting room, trying my best to look invisible.
An hour passes and I have successfully skimmed through the seven dog eared copies of weekly magazines that ranged from purely gossip, fashion, cooking to gardening and health. I have resisted the information leaflets but with a morbid sense of curiosity getting the better of me I pick up a leaflet on pregnancy. Checking off the symptoms I start to feel a little better; morning sickness, that would be no. Yes I’ve felt a bit sick and have been off my food but given the trauma of a break up from hell I don’t think that is unusual and it’s certainly not restricted to the morning. I know Lili from the restaurant says it’s the only up-side to a break up . . . the weight loss. Weight gain, well that’s a definite no, my clothes are hanging from me and I have to have my dress for the wedding re fitted as a consequence. Sensitive breasts, the waiting room is now full so I can’t exactly check that one right now but I don’t think they feel any different. I hear my name before I can consume any more of the information but I am satisfied that my panic is unjustified.
“Bethany, sorry you’ve been waiting so long.” Dr Ward smiles sweetly and points to the chair for me to take a seat. “Now what’s the emergency?”
“Contraceptive shot and the morning after pill.” I flush bright pink and cringe that I am supposed to be a responsible adult and here I am looking anything but.
“Right, Ok, let’s see, you missed the date for your last shot. So you have been unprotected since then and I take it you’ve since had unprotected sex?” She scribbles some notes and glances my way.
I blow out a long held breath. “Yes, Yesterday late afternoon and a just over a week ago.”
Her smile is warm and I am grateful. Doctors must practice that non-judgemental look for years to perfect it and I am super appreciative, because I want to cry for being such an idiot.
“The date of you last period?”
“May 13th and and I am due on today.” I suck in some air because I suddenly feel like I am going to be sick. I can feel the colour drain from my face and Dr.Ward looks with concern and squeezes my leg.
“Lets not jump the gun Bethany. It is very early to be making those assumptions but you will have to take the pregnancy test before I can give you another shot.” She hands me a plastic pot and goes back to swivelling a rotating disc with dates in tiny digits. I walk numbly from the room. All these stupid sayings fill my head, cart before the horse Bethany, locking the stable door after the horse has bolted, gift horse in the mouth and why are they all equine related? I shake my head. It’s stupid, I’m stupid and I can make up all the reasons in the world. I’ve been under stress that’s why my period didn’t appear like my clockwork normal this morning, my symptoms aren’t really symptoms and we only did it once, or was it twice? It doesn’t bloody matter, when you know, you just know and I fucking know.
I watch patiently with Dr.Ward for the results and she smiles brightly adding with a strangely cheerful voice. “You know these tests are so sensitive now they can even detect pregnancy before you missed your period!” But then her smile tightens and she looks directly at me. “You are pregnant Bethany, one to two weeks if you are sure on your dates but definitely pregnant.”
“But I haven’t been sick . . . I mean no morning sickness.” My words fall dumbly from my mouth and I am not surprised when Dr.Ward offers an understanding smile.
“No, well that’s good. Not everyone suffers, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones.” Her smile widens with her kind eyes.
I know my face has frozen and I absently wonder if it would be appropriate to stick my fingers in my ears and hum Naughty Boy; La La. My throat feels dry and constricted and I struggle to swallow. Dr. Ward passes a glass of water and I sip, liking the feel of the ice cool liquid pouring down my parched throat. I put the glass down and go to pick up my bag, appointment over. Dr. Ward hands me a fistful of leaflets. “It’s very early Bethany, read these, all of these and come and see me next week.” I have lost the capacity for speech, but nod and smile like an idiot, and not for the first time in less than an hour I berate myself. Yes I am an idiot, a stupid fucking idiot.
I stroll in a daze, grateful my internal navigation is on autopilot as I work my way through the residential back streets of West London; all the way back to my apartment and quietly let myself in. Marco worked late last night and would probably still be sleeping. I slump on my bed, fanning out the literature Dr. Ward has given me. I pick up the one I had started to look at in the waiting room and again read the list of symptoms, noting for the first time the words may experience. My eyes partly focus on increased tiredness and I exhale a small laugh, well that one is right on the money. I am bone tired and succumb to the pull of my freshly made bed, falling face down, fully clothed, both mentally and physically shattered.
It’s dark when I stir, my curtains aren’t drawn so there is a little light from the street and I can hear voices in the kitchen. I gather the leaflets and put them in my bedside draw, deciding my rumbling stomach needs urgent attention and perhaps my head is not in the right state to take in any more information. I’m still in shock. My clothes are rumpled and twisted where I have moved unconsciously in my sleep so I quickly change into some soft grey yoga pants and one of my few remaining original t-shirts.
I peak my head through the doorway to the kitchen but am unsuccessful in staying hidden, squealing with surprise as Marco barrels towards me lifting me high and hugging me tight. We have really only passed notes since he came back and God I’ve missed him. I find I hold on to his hug little tighter and blink back a sudden splash of tears, tired and emotional, yep I read that too.
“Hey Boo it’s been forever.” He gently drops me to the floor and holds me back to look at me. “Christ you look like shit, are you sick?” His deep frown is serious but he holds back a grin. I slap him hard on his chest and he rubs the spot and stumbles back like I have caused serious damage, but chuckles and returns to the kitchen. It’s then I notice Ethan who slowly stands and holds his arms wide, his bright smile even wider.
“Take no notice you look . . .” but he hesitates just a little too long and I sigh and walk to the hall mirror. He calls after me. “You look beautiful Bets, you always do. Just maybe a bit tired.” He generously offers because looking at my reflection I am much more inclined to agree with Marco. I ruffle my hair so it looks more tousled than bed head and pinch my cheeks to get some colour but that really is the best I can do at the moment, perhaps some food will help. I walk back into the kitchen and go to hug Ethan, pleased that there doesn’t seem to be any residual awkwardness from the tail end of our weekend together. I walk to the fridge and pour a glass of milk before returning to take the stool next to Ethan.
Just as an unsettling silence falls my stomach makes the most unladylike sound and we all laugh out and my cheeks finally get some much needed colour. Marco has just ordered pizza but I really fancy something simple and he is sweet enough to insist that I stay seated as he makes me an omelette. We chat and its very comfortable, the most normal I have felt in a while. I decline a beer when the boys open a second round or the offer of a glass of wine, sticking with the milk avoiding Marco’s raised brow and curious pursed lips.
“So Dan the Dick is out of the picture?” Marco bluntly asks stopping the progression of my food to mouth and fork in mid-air. Christ, I thought Sofia was to the point. I am glad I didn’t have a mouthful because he would be wearing it right now. Undeterred he carries on in the same nonchalant manor “Look he came off the ‘Dick List’ for a while there but he’s definitely on it now. If he has let you go Boo, he is taking the top spot. I’d call him mega dick but I wouldn’t want that to get misinterpreted.” He takes a swig from his bottle which fails epically to hide his own amusement.
I shake my head and let out a light laugh through my nose, just like Marco to ‘call a spade a fucking shovel.’ “Yes he is out of the picture.” I am nowhere near ready to post mortem the cluster fuck that is the Bethany and Daniel fall
out, so I divert the conversation. “So you didn’t propose to Rose then?” Yes, that should do it. It’s Marco’s turn to lose some colour, shocked and spluttering he chokes messily on his beer, spitting his mouthful down his front.
“What the fuck Bets! Why would you? . . . What on earth? . . . Christ has Aunt Marie been plotting again?” He wipes his front with the dishcloth just making the shirt wetter and both Ethan and I are chuckling at his outrage.
“No not Aunt Marie this time, actually it was me and Sofs, we just thought, well you’d taken her to see the family. That’s like unheard of and we just assumed . . .” I shrug but he interrupts clearly eager to re-establish his single carefree status.
“We went on holiday together and we stayed with the family because it was free. We’re not even exclusive! She sees other guys . . . I see other girls . . . she’s cooler to hang with than the others more so because she isn’t hung up on relationship labels. Christ when you girls get together!” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Ethan is in fits.
“Eww Marco, I did not need to know that!” I push my plate away, pleased that I had eaten half and not really put off by his revelation but not able to eat any more. “But you’re taking her to the wedding, right? I mean you are still taking her to the wedding Marco?” His eyes widen as he can hear my rising panic in my tone.
“Shit no, she’s on holiday visiting her sister in the States.” He sounds just as alarmed. Ethan looks between the two of us, knowing he is missing something crucial, blissfully unaware of the significance of both Marco and I not having dates for Sofia’s wedding.
“Shit.” We both conclude.
“You have to get a date Marco!” I point my finger in warning.
“I have to get a date?” He laughs incredulously and repeats. “I have to get a date; you’re funny Bets.” He flicks the contact screen on his phone and a blur of images scroll in a flash of pretty girls. “Not so much a problem for me Boo . . .” He flashes a cocky smile, overcome with an over inflated sense of smugness he waves his finger in my direction. “It’s you darling girl, you have to get a date.”
