The Girl Who Lied

by Sue Fortin

  ‘You not well?’ asks Mum, coming out of her bedroom. ‘You look very pale. You’d better go back to bed.’

  I’m grateful, Dad looks on from beyond and nods his approval. I clearly must look ill for him not to say something along the lines of, you’ll feel better once you’ve had something to eat. Or, a bit of fresh air and you’ll be as right as rain.

  I fall into bed, pulling the duvet up around me, and drift back to sleep. I can’t face going anywhere or eating a single thing. Cider is definitely my enemy. I swear I’m never going to drink again. Ever.

  ‘Feck! Feck! Feck!’

  Niall’s response to our news. It’s very similar to my own reaction when I found out, except I cried as well. I don’t think Niall is going to cry, but he’s holding both hands behind his head, pacing round in circles, scuffing the sand and leaving a track, which marks his anguish.

  I can feel the tears welling up again. I was dreading telling him. I can hardly believe it myself.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he demands, momentarily halting.

  I nod. ‘Of course, I am.’ It comes out rather more angrily than I intend, but I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t be saying this unless I was sure. ‘I’ve done three tests and they are all positive. My period is now three weeks late. I’m definitely pregnant.’

  I’m not sure what sort of reaction I expected from Niall. He’s eighteen, about to go off to university, and I’m sixteen, hopefully with a place at college in London waiting for me. A baby was definitely not on the agenda. A baby? It doesn’t sound real. I can’t quite believe I have a baby growing inside me. It just doesn’t seem possible. Yet at the same time, it very clearly is possible. What a mess. If this was ten years down the line it wouldn’t matter but we are only kids ourselves.

  Niall recommences his pacing and swearing. Then he goes quiet and stops walking, looking out at the monotone waters of the sea before us. Finally, he turns round and comes and sits beside me.

  He puts his arm around me. ‘Don’t cry,’ he says. This just makes me cry even more. He holds me tight. ‘It will be all right, I promise.’

  I have no idea how it will be all right. I stifle the tears and sobs. ‘How?’

  ‘Do you want to keep the baby?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ I admit. I am so confused. ‘I can’t bear the thought of having an abortion, but at the same time I don’t know how we will manage. I don’t want to be a teenage mum.’

  ‘I don’t really want to be a teenage dad,’ says Niall. ‘How the hell did it happen?’

  This makes me want to laugh. I’m pretty sure Niall attended sex-education classes, but I appreciate my humour will not be well received at this precise moment. ‘I don’t know,’ I say instead. I seem not to know a lot of things. ‘The only time I can think would have been after Shane’s party. You know we were both a bit drunk then and we fooled around in the car.’

  ‘Yeah, but I didn’t think…you know…I thought we stopped in time.’

  ‘So did I.’

  ‘Let’s think about this rationally,’ says Niall. ‘If you keep it, I will need to get a job to support you and the baby. We could get a place together. We’ll probably have to get some financial help but I’m sure we will manage. Lots of people do. There are all sorts of benefits and then there are our parents. They could help. Maybe?’

  ‘But what about university? You want to qualify as a lawyer. You won’t be able to do it if you’re working.’

  ‘It’s okay. I can go to evening classes, study part time. If I get a job at a solicitor’s, as a clerk, they may even pay for my training.’

  ‘You really think so?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure. You can study to be a beautician in the same way too. There’s loads of evening courses for that.’ He smiles at me and seems excited and relieved all at the same time. ‘It may be hard for a few years but once we are both qualified, we will be able to support ourselves and the baby.’

  I’m buying into the idea. I imagine us both sitting at the kitchen table; Niall surrounded by law books, me surrounded by beauty products. I imagine tucking the baby up in his or her cot and, dressed in my beautician’s uniform, picking up my bag of products, kissing Niall bye and heading off for college. When I come home, he will finish his studying for the night and we will sit and have a cup of tea and talk about our day and the coursework we have to do. We will go up to bed, look in on the baby, who will be fast asleep. We will smile at each other because we are happy and proud parents and we will go to bed, still very much in love, knowing that despite the odds and what everyone said, we have made it. Our very own family. We will probably have another child once we are both qualified and I will work part-time from home and Niall will get a partnership in a law firm.

  I smile at him. ‘We could really make it work, if we try. I know it’s not ideal, but we can do this. Together we’re strong.’

  ‘I love you,’ says Niall.

  ‘I love you too.’

  Fiona has come over to visit. Her timing couldn’t be better. Mum and Dad are in the café and Sean has gone off to meet with some of his friends. It’s just me and Fiona at the flat. She is the first person, other than Niall, who I’m going to tell about the baby.

  Fiona sits down beside me. ‘So, what’s up? You’ve been on edge ever since I got here yesterday.’

  She knows me so well.

  ‘I don’t know how to say this…’ I stumble over the words. I can’t bring myself to say them out loud. I feel I’ve let her down. I look bleakly at her whilst my mind rushes to think of something else. I feel the tears begin to sting my eyes and I rapidly blink them away. A lump forces its way up my throat, sticking right at the back, where I can’t seem to swallow it down.

  Fiona’s eyes penetrate mine. She’s searching for the answer.

  ‘Erin?’ Her voice is soft and I can hear a tentativeness I’m not used to. Usually, Fiona is strong and able to deal with anything and everything. She reaches over and holds my hand in hers. ‘Are you pregnant?’

  How does she know without me having to say a word? I still can’t get rid of that lump in my throat. It swells some more and the tears flood my eyes, spilling over and racing down my cheeks. I nod and manage to croak out a yes.

  ‘Oh, Erin,’ says Fiona. There’s compassion in her voice. She draws me to her and holds me tightly. I don’t know what she’s thinking. She doesn’t say anything, just holds me while I sob.

  ‘It will be all right, though,’ I say, when the tears subside. ‘Niall is going to get a job and study at evening classes. I’m going to do the same. Once we’re both qualified it will be great. We’ll be able to support ourselves properly.’ I’m rambling, the words are tumbling over each other in a bid to free themselves. They gather pace. ‘I know it will be hard at first and everything, but we are going to make it work…’

  Fiona listens patiently. Every now and then she gives a little smile and nods. She waits for me to come to an end.

  ‘You seem to have it all worked out,’ she says. ‘You know, Erin, it’s great you and Niall are being positive about it all and I do admire that, I really do, but you do also know it won’t be that straightforward. You’re both giving up great opportunities ahead of you and you may never fulfil your dreams. Life has a habit of putting obstacles in the way and sometimes there are just too many to get round.’

  ‘Are you saying I should have an abortion?’ Although it is something I’ve thought about and talked over with Niall, I never expected this suggestion from my sister. Not Fiona. She’s never made any secret of the fact that her and Sean want to start a family soon. Why would she suggest it to me?

  ‘Absolutely not. You must know how I feel about it,’ she says, without a moment’s hesitation. ‘All I’m trying to say is, whatever decision you make, you must do it with the full knowledge, realistic knowledge, of what lies ahead. I would never dream of telling you what you should and shouldn’t do. I’m here for you. Always have been and always will be. I’ll support you, but I
won’t tell you what to do.’

  With an understanding of where we stand, we talk our way through the rest of the morning. Fiona starts making a list of things I will need to do. The list is endless. Go to the doctors. Start taking folic acid. Avoid eating soft cheese and pâté. No alcohol. Find out about financial support. Find out about my rights to education. Research evening classes. I feel overwhelmed with the enormity of what I have to do. Practical things. Grown-up stuff that before I never had to even consider.

  ‘And then, of course, there’s Mum and Dad to tell and Niall’s parents,’ says Fiona.

  ‘Dad is going to kill me,’ I say. I’ve been avoiding this issue. Telling him is going to be the worst thing ever. ‘And then he’s going to kill Niall.’

  ‘If I was you, I’d tell Mum first. On her own. Give her a couple of days to get used to the idea. That way you’ll only have to deal with one of them at a time.’

  I look up from the tissue I’ve been tearing apart, bit by bit, for the last few minutes, and I see so many things on my sister’s face. So many emotions. There’s compassion, love, protectiveness, strength and there’s pain. I wish the last one away. I’m sure the pain is not just for me, but for her too. How did God muddle up our wishes? It seems so cruel.

  Chapter 12

  Teenage Kicks

  Six weeks before leaving

  Niall is waiting for me at the school gates this morning. He doesn’t usually wait. I’m pleased to see him. However, as I approach him, I can see by the look on his face something is wrong.

  ‘Hi. What’s up?’ I ask. I put my arms around him for a hug, as if this action itself will take away the trouble. His reaction quashes any such thought as his hands remain stuffed in his pockets.

  ‘Get in the car. We need to talk.’

  I take a moment to stand back and read the expression on his face. It’s not anger. It’s fear. He’s upset. I do as he says, even though I know this is going to make me late for school.

  ‘What’s up?’ I ask again.

  ‘Mam knows.’ The two words are like a physical blow and I reel back from the verbal punch. His voice cracks. ‘She knows you’re pregnant.’ He really doesn’t need to qualify his mother’s knowledge. I’m already there.

  ‘How?’

  ‘How do you think? She’s a GP. She must have seen your notes.’

  ‘But, I went to see the nurse. Your mum wouldn’t have been able to see them, not without going to look for them. It’s all done on computer.’

  ‘I don’t know how and it’s irrelevant now. She knows.’

  I open the door and lean my head out as the bile in my stomach makes for a quick exit. Niall barely seems to notice. When I’m done retching, I take the bottle of water from my school bag and rinse my mouth, spitting into the road. In the depths of my bag I have a packet of ginger biscuits. Fiona gave them to me. She said they were supposed to be good for morning sickness.

  The biscuits are hard and the sound of the crunch fills the space in the car. It sounds like a whole army is marching towards us. An army of fear. Niall’s mum knows. Soon my mum and dad will know. Soon everyone will know. It’s time for us to face up to what’s happening. Suddenly the baby growing inside my stomach seems real. It’s no longer a word. I’m no longer simply pregnant. I actually have a baby inside me.

  ‘Do you have to eat so loudly? You sound like a horse.’

  I put the remaining part of the biscuit back into my bag.

  ‘What did your mum say?’

  ‘She went ballistic. Had a screaming fit at me. Dad joined in too.’

  ‘And Roisin?’

  ‘She was out and doesn’t know. Thank, God.’

  ‘Ditto.’

  ‘Mam wants to speak to your folks.’

  Suddenly the sickness is back. ‘She can’t. I mean, I need to tell them first. What does she need to speak to them for?’

  Niall shrugs. He looks away from me and I get the feeling he’s being evasive. There’s something he’s not telling me.

  ‘Did you tell her about our plan?’ I ask. My voice is quiet. The confidence in our ideas for the future suddenly feeling fragile.

  Niall takes a long time before he answers. ‘She wants you to have an abortion.’

  The breath I draw is sharp and grazes the back of throat. ‘It’s none of her business,’ I almost shout.

  ‘That’s what I said, but she said it was her business as she will potentially be a grandmother and it’s not on her agenda yet. She said we would regret it and there’s plenty of time for babies in the future.’

  ‘You sound like you agree with her.’

  ‘It’s not that, well, maybe I do a bit…’

  I sit bolt upright in my seat.

  ‘You’ve been brainwashed.’ I feel crushed. ‘I thought we had it all planned. We were going to go to college in the evenings. You said it would be okay.’

  I want to shake him. Make him see sense. He puts his head in his hands.

  ‘Feck. What a mess.’ We sit in silence for a long moment. Finally, Niall lets out a sigh. He rubs his face with his hands and then, turning in his seat, he puts his arm around me and lays one hand on my stomach. ‘We’ll be okay. I’m sorry. It’s just Mam making me twitchy. Of course I want all this. I want us to be a family. You’ll be a fantastic mam. It’s just, in an ideal world, I want all this in ten years’ time.’

  ‘So do I, but it’s not an ideal world. We have to deal with what’s real. I’m as scared as you. Every time I think about it, I dart from being terrified to brave, from sad to happy.’

  ‘We’ll be okay as long as we have each other. I’ll look after you.’

  ‘I’ll have to tell my mum first,’ I say, feeling better now Niall seems to be back on track and has reassured me he is serious about the baby. ‘Just ask your mum to wait before she says anything.’

  Mum takes the news as I imagined she would. Shock. Disbelief. Silent. Then with love. She cries, only for a moment, as she cuddles me. It makes me cry. I’m doing that a lot now. Fiona says it’s my hormones. Mum holds me for a long time as she lets it all sink in.

  She listens patiently as I tell her my and Niall’s plans. I get the feeling if it wasn’t for the seriousness of the situation she would probably find it amusing, or rather my ideas amusing.

  ‘Sure, it’s such a big commitment,’ she says. ‘I don’t know how a sixteen-year-old and an eighteen-year-old can truly manage.’

  My tentative hopes of her embracing grandmotherhood begin to slide away. I wanted Mum to be my ally in this.

  ‘We need to tell your dad,’ she says. ‘Jesus, he is not going to be happy.’

  That surely has to count as the understatement of a lifetime.

  I’m sitting on my bed, pretending I’m reading the book on my lap. Pretending I don’t really know Mum is telling Dad about the baby. I’m trying hard to focus my eyes on the words, but my brain is connecting with my ears only. All other senses diminish as my hearing heightens.

  The tones of their voices start off low, but now Mum has broken the news the pitches are rising, becoming louder and finally I hear Dad as clear as if he were right next to me.

  ‘Erin! Get yourself in here. NOW!’

  Mum is silent. She knows it’s not worth trying to appease him now. He’s in a temper, for sure. Before I even reach the door, I hear him shout for me again. I feel sick. My hands are trembling. I hold them together over my stomach, close my eyes and take a moment to compose myself. I have to be strong. I need to prove to Dad that although I’m only sixteen, I’m grown up enough to take on the responsibility of a child.

  He rants and raves. He calls me stupid, irresponsible, naive and a tramp. The last hurts the most. Whoever said sticks and stones were the only things that could hurt you was lying. Even Mum draws in a sharp breath at this attack.

  ‘Jim, please…’

  He dismisses her protests with a wave of his hand. ‘I didn’t bring my daughter up to go sleeping around and getting herself pregnant at sixteen.�
��

  ‘She’s not been sleeping around. She’s been in a relationship with Niall for a long time now.’

  I appreciate Mum’s defence. She may not like what’s happened, but she is taking her usual pragmatic approach.

  ‘But she’s only sixteen and he’s only, what, eighteen?’

  Dad hasn’t yet taken his eyes from me. He shakes his head. I force myself to hold his gaze and not look down. I won’t let him shame me. Instead, I stand myself taller, swallow hard and tell him about the plans Niall and I have made.

  Amazingly, he listens without interruption and as I finish with, ‘We love each other,’ the corners of his mouth turn up and, for a fleeting second I feel a surge of joy, as I believe he has been convinced by my argument. But the smile doesn’t come – it turns out to be a derisory smirk.

  ‘That’s just great, Erin,’ he says, sarcasm coating his every word. ‘You’ve got it all sorted out, haven’t you? You’re going to have the baby, get a house, go to college, get a job and live happily ever after. I’m worrying about nothing, aren’t I?’ He taps Mum’s arm. ‘Hey, did you hear that, Marie? Erin has it all sorted. We’ve nothing to worry about.’

  Mum looks uncomfortable and throws me a look I can interpret immediately. I prepare myself for the second onslaught.

  ‘And where do you think you’re going to get all the money for this? We’re not rolling in it. Do you really think Mrs High and Mighty Diana Marshall is going to fall over you with handouts? Get real, Erin.’ He clicks his fingers inches from my face. ‘This is not some fairytale out of one of those romance books you read. This is real life.’

  My bravado is waning. ‘What are you trying to say?’ I can’t quell the tremble in my throat that makes my words wobble.

  Dad looks at me for a long moment. I see his shoulders sag and he exhales a deep sigh. Is that compassion in his eyes? He places a hand on the top of my arm and when he speaks his voice is soft but firm. ‘You can’t keep the baby.’

  ‘I can. And I’m going to.’ The wobble has become a tremor and the words are catching in my throat.

  ‘Erin…’ Mum takes a step towards me.