“Everything all right?” she asked, looking concerned as she saw Imogen’s red, swollen eyes and messy clothes. Imogen always looked good – even when her hair was messily scraped from her face, her clothes always looked nice; her make-up always perfect.
Not today.
“Umm. Not totally. Could you close the door please? I need to talk to you…”
With the door closed, they both took a bar stool and faced one another. When Imogen didn’t speak, and just stared out of the window, Ella prompted her.
“So, what’s up?”
She wasn’t sure how to break it to her. It wasn’t necessarily her opinion she was bothered about; it was her support, not her opinions, that Imogen needed. She was pretty sure what her reaction was going to be, anyway. But, as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want Ella to send her away, to send her back. To send both her and Abby back. She liked living here! Okay, so the Kingsleys drove her mad, were possibly one of the most annoying families she had ever met, and were the complete opposite to her. But…they did care. Well, Ella did, anyway – and William too, she thought. And Abby seemed to care for Ella, and certainly loved her life, her friendship with Dana. And then there were the benefits outside of the house.
Zach.
Her heart – it twisted inside her at the thought of having to leave him. What they had, she knew it was special, not average, it was true love.
School – that was fine. It was school, so it was never going to be great, but she was passing, she wasn’t in trouble, and she had a great set of friends. They were another big string, tying her to her life here – Eve, Carrie and Violet. She’d never had close friends before – and they had made her life here fun. This was where she wanted to be – not back in a care home, or in some council flat, alone, just her. Well, her and…she didn’t want to think about it yet.
Whatever happened, she doubted they would let her have responsibility of Abby: and that was the most important thing in her life. She would not be separated from Abby – she’d die first.
She had to tell Ella – she was her legal guardian – and she had to tell her right, so that she wouldn’t chuck her out. Ella looked worried, but she sat looking at Imogen with patient eyes, whilst all this whirled in her head. She tried to formulate the words in her mouth. Why on earth was this so nerve-wracking? Was it just because she didn’t want to lose her life here? Or did she care about what Ella thought? Who knew. But she could feel the nausea in her stomach.
“So. The thing is…I’ve got to tell you something. And I don’t want the lecture, and I don’t care what you think, or if you’re disappointed. But-” She was going about this all wrong: she was using her usual attitude and tone of voice – and it wasn’t gonna help her in staying here. She tried to soften her tone up a bit.
“It’s hard to say… because, well, I hate to admit it, but I’m…” The words were all jumbled; she wasn’t managing to form coherent sentences. “Scared,” she finished, quietly.
Ella wasn’t catching on; she could tell that from the look of confusion in her eyes. “Look, Imogen, just tell me – whatever it is, whatever’s happened, we can sort it out.” Why was she doing this? Why was she being nice? It made hating her harder. Hate was an emotion Imogen could deal with.
“Okay, I’ll spit it out. Ella-” she turned, looking her dead in the eye. “-I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
It filled the kitchen, with not a sound coming from either Ella or Imogen. They both waited – Imogen for a response. Ella for something to respond with.
“Yes, go on, you can do it…” The cheers came from the living room, as the sound of a football crowd from the television, and William supporting the team, broke their silence. Ella shook her head, with shock in her eyes.
“No.” What sort of a response was that, Imogen wondered to herself. No? She couldn’t just deny it. “No, that’s not possible. You have to – you’ve got to have sex to get pregnant.”
Imogen smirked at that – she couldn’t help it. Her ‘mother’ was so naïve. “Yeah, I don’t need the facts of life explaining to me. I know you have to have sex to get pregnant. And Ella? I am pregnant.”
She’d done it – she’d told her. And now she was going to have to deal with the consequences – whatever they were.
Silence, again. That could get boring pretty quickly. Imogen decided not to push it, however: she wanted her and Ella on good terms, she had to remind herself of that. She wanted to keep living with the Kingsleys. She wanted some support – someone to tell her what to do.
After a few more moments, Ella finally spoke, starting, then stopping to swallow as her mouth had gone dry in the moments of silence. “What…what do you want to do?” Their eyes met, and it wasn’t anger in Ella’s eyes – it wasn’t even disappointment. Imogen couldn’t tell what it was; did it look a little like sympathy? Understanding? That was too much to hope for. This couldn’t go easily…
“I--I’m not totally sure yet. Except…I know I can’t get rid of it. I mean, I can’t end the--” it was a hard word to say, something she was going to have to come to terms with, “pregnancy. So I guess I can either keep it, or have it adopted. Except I’m not sure I can do that. So – I guess I do know. Sort of.”
As much as the idea of parenthood scared her, and how much she wished she hadn’t become pregnant, Imogen suddenly realised how much her own childhood was going to affect this decision. She was scared, yes, but Imogen had spent four long years of her life in and out of care – there was no way she’d willingly put someone through that. Not someone she cared about – or someone that she knew she would care about. Someone that was part of her; part of Zach.
There were three choices, three paths she could have chosen – and she’d eliminated two of them. Now she had one option left – one she’d perhaps known she was going to take from the beginning. And that knowledge was terrifying.
“How far gone are you? When was your last period? Does the father – Zach, I’m presuming? – know? Didn’t you use protection?”
And so the questions began, and Imogen sank down onto a bar stool, answering those she could, because she knew staying with the Kingsleys was, unfortunately, the best thing for her at that moment.
“Five weeks, I think.” This was going to be a long night of answering Ella’s questions – she could feel it.
“Zach’s the father – of course he is. I…I wanted to tell you first. I only just realised…” How had she not noticed how long it’d been since her last period?
“Yeah, but it clearly doesn’t work every time,” she answered Ella’s protection question with a wry smile.
She didn’t want to think of Zach’s reaction just yet: she hadn’t a clue how he was going to react; what this would mean for them.
The questions continued.
***
Dusk had fallen by the time the topic had been exhausted. The rest of the family had decided to out for dinner, despite the fact that they’d been out for dinner the night before; when William entered the kitchen to ask whether he should start preparing dinner, the look on both Imogen and Ella’s faces showed that they weren’t ready to be interrupted. The house had fallen silent, except for the low voices of Ella and Imogen.
“So,” Ella said, as Imogen fell silent. They had discussed the possibilities, and now it was clear that Imogen would keep the child. It was the only option she could accept. They looked at each other for a moment, and Imogen realised she was actually quite lucky: Ella hadn’t really freaked out, shouted, been disappointed or threatened to chuck her out. She’d approached it calmly and practically. Perhaps it was easier for her to accept because Imogen wasn’t actually hers; whatever was making her act like this, Imogen was grateful.
“Do you think…” Imogen’s voice was soft, all traces of attitude gone: she was scared and unsure, and that was reflected in her voice. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
“Imogen…I can’t say I’m over the moon that you’re pre
gnant, because you’re so young, and have the rest of your life to have children. But if anyone can handle being a mum, you can; you’ve done a great job with Abigail. And you’ll have all of us behind you, whatever you decide.”
Imogen was extremely surprised to find herself feeling quite teary-eyed at Ella’s little speech. As much as she didn’t want to acknowledge it, having the Kingsleys behind her meant a lot. And Ella believing she could handle it…well, it was enough to get her eyes prickling with tears. She sighed softly; hadn’t she cried enough the night before? She didn’t speak for a moment, turning her head towards the window for a moment so that Ella wouldn’t see her glistening eyes.
“I don’t know…what to expect. With pregnancy, I mean. I didn’t think I’d be facing it any time soon,” Imogen said, before realising Ella would be no help; all her kids were adopted. She baulked, however, at the idea of asking Millie. She’d rather go into it unprepared.
“You’ll be fine, Imogen, trust me. I understand you’re scared, honestly, I do,” Ella said. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you’re adult enough to make the decision to sleep with someone, when you know there’s always a risk of getting pregnant, then you’ve got to be adult enough to cope with pregnancy.” Ella recognised words that had been said to her years previously: except so much more harshly, and with a different ultimatum.
Pregnancy wasn’t the difficult part she had to cope with when she’d chosen to sleep with someone…
“Look, Ella,” Imogen began, a little annoyed now. As Ella had known, she didn’t want to listen to the speech; sleeping with Zach had felt natural, she’d felt mature enough. Pregnancy and parenthood…they were a different manner. “I appreciate you’re trying to be supportive, but I don’t think you do understand.” She didn’t sound appreciative; she sounded pissed off. How could Ella truly understand what she was going through? The panic, the confusion…only someone who’d been in the same situation could truly empathise.
“I do understand, Imogen,” Ella replied, getting up to put the kettle on. Neither had drunk or eaten anything in hours, and Ella felt in need of a restorative cup of tea; especially since she had a feeling she was about to confide something in Imogen that only her parents knew.
“How could you?” A little of her familiar smirk returned to her face; a little sarcasm leaked into her tone.
“Because I’m a parent. Because I’ve been pregnant. Because…”
The second fact had thrown Imogen’s sarcastic front; when had Ella Kingsley been pregnant?
“Because I was pregnant at sixteen.” The words hung in the air for a moment, as the noise of the kettle reached its crescendo. For a moment, Ella just watched the steam rise from the spout, unsure as to Imogen’s reaction to her long-hidden secret. Imogen was stunned. She wasn’t sure she’d heard Ella right, but if she’d heard what she thought she had, she realised that was the reason behind Ella’s acceptance of the situation. She’d been there herself.
“You were pregnant at my age, too?” she asked, and Ella nodded in confirmation.
“Look, I’ve not told anyone this, and I don’t want anyone else knowing, okay? I’m only telling you because…well, I think it might help. I do understand, completely.”
“What happened?” Imogen asked, intrigued, shock colouring her tone.
“Do you want tea, or coffee?” Ella asked, postponing the subject momentarily.
“Coffee, please.”
“Let’s go sit in the living room.” Imogen followed Ella, holding the steaming mug of coffee in her hands, and grabbing a couple of biscuits from the tin on the worktop on her way out.
“Well, before I tell you this,” Ella said, placing her mug of tea on the coffee table and curling her legs up on the sofa, “just remember what my parents are like.”
This tale made her feel guilty, and her actions were only justified by the fact that her parents had been so controlling, and Ella scared: Imogen had met Elaine and Aaron, and so perhaps would understand.
“Imagine telling her that you were pregnant,” Imogen said, remembering her meeting with Ella’s mother.
“Exactly.” Ella looked unsure where to begin, and Imogen waited, patiently. She was intrigued to know Ella’s story; intrigued and shocked that Ella had any skeletons in her closet.
“I didn’t know who the father was, so I was in a worse position than you in some ways. Not that me knowing the father would have changed my parents’ point of view,” Ella began. “It was one stupid night. I… well, I had a crush on this guy, but he didn’t seem interested in me in that way. One night a group of my mates and I went out, and managed to get hold of some alcohol. They convinced me that sleeping with another guy was the way to get over the guy I liked.” She rolled her eyes a little; it seemed so stupid, so childish now.
“I listened to them – but I was too drunk to remember who it was I’d slept with. I’d not seen him before that night.” She sounded ashamed, and Imogen surprised herself by feeling sorry for Ella. She would never have expected Ella to be the drunken one-night-stand type, but then she guessed everyone was young at some point or another: Ella was obviously a different person now than she had been back then. Or maybe it was just a one-off.
She smiled warily – a rarity for that day – encouraging Ella to continue: despite all her attitude, Imogen was eager to hear the end of the story now. She controlled the smile, not allowing it to slip into her well-perfected smirk; who would have thought Ella Kingsley could have been involved in a scandal?
“So, I realised I was pregnant a few weeks later, and no-one else knew – the father had disappeared, and I knew most of my school friends would be horrified, and no use. My best friend, well, I wish I could have told him: I was just so afraid of what Braden would think of me, and I didn’t want to lose him. I screwed that up thou-”
“Braden?” Imogen repeated, interrupting her. Surely someone would only know one Braden in their lifetime – it was hardly a common name. “Braden as in the guy you’re dating?”
“Yes.” Ella smiled a little. “He was my closest friend all through school, until we were sixteen – disappearing without explanation for five months can sort of ruin a friendship. He was the guy I liked, too.” Regret laced her words, and Imogen wondered whether there could have been something more between the two back then – Braden clearly was interested now, and probably had been back then, if the two were friends. Something that could have been, that was destroyed by a pregnancy.
“You disappeared?” Imogen asked, her eyebrows raised, wondering where this story was going. Clearly Ella didn’t have the child now…unless Daisy was actually hers or something. But no, that was ridiculous. Why lie? And besides, the years wouldn’t add up right.
“I’ll get to that bit,” Ella replied, a small smile on her lips at Imogen’s eagerness. “After two months, I knew I had to tell someone – I couldn’t just keep hiding it. I was throwing up regularly with the morning sickness, and a couple of my friends thought I was bulimic – although when they saw I was gaining weight, rather than losing it, I think they dismissed that idea. So…I told my mother.” Imogen heard a touch of anger in her voice when she mentioned Elaine, and she wondered how bad the reaction had been. Knowing Elaine, she could imagine.
“She was horrified; not that I’d slept with someone, or even that I didn’t know who the father was. No, she was horrified because I was pregnant and not married. I had brought shame to the Kingsley family – or so she said. She gave me an ultimatum.”
“You had to have an abortion?” Imogen asked, shocked, but Ella shook her head. She closed her eyes for a moment.
“No. She didn’t believe in abortions; she thought they were even more shameful,” Ella replied, opening her eyes again. There was a look of pain which haunted them, and Imogen’s brow furrowed as she wondered what the ultimatum had been; why it made Ella look so pained.
“She told me I either had the baby in secret and gave him up for adoption, or left at that moment. I didn’t
know what to do; I wasn’t ready to be a mother, but I didn’t think I was strong enough to give up a baby, when I would have carried it – him – for nine months.”
Imogen considered the position that Ella had been put in: keep the baby, or keep her family. If Ella had put her in that position, she knew which option she’d have chosen. But then Imogen was used to being alone; she would have coped somehow. If she’d always been with her family, well, maybe it would have been different.
The relief she had felt when Ella declared the Kingsleys would be behind her whatever she chose made her realise how difficult Ella’s position had been. To keep the baby, she would have had to become homeless, penniless and family-less.
“She gave me a week to decide; she warned me every day of what I would be losing if I kept the baby. She told me they would not speak to me again if I chose to leave; that I could never turn to them for support, for money or for a home. By this time, they’d already estranged William, for marrying Amorette, and so I knew what they were capable of. They wouldn’t have hesitated to cut me out of their lives the same way they did with him. And I wasn’t strong enough.”
Family Portrait (Kingsley Family Trilogy Book 1) Page 25
