‘Both.’ Alison tried to smile.
‘Alison…’ Ellie was tentative for once. ‘I can see that you and Nick…well, you both look pretty miserable.’ As quiet as they’d kept it, of course Ellie knew. ‘I’m assuming it’s over?’
‘It was always going to be.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ellie said. ‘I feel like I pushed you into it…’
‘I pushed myself into it,’ Alison admitted.
‘You can talk to me.’
‘I know,’ Alison said. ‘Just not yet.’
‘It’s his leaving do on Friday. I just thought I should warn you…’
‘I’m on days off Thursday and Friday,’ Alison said, ‘and I’m off sick today. I won’t be seeing him again.’
And that was hard to say, let alone admit, and she couldn’t really talk about it with Ellie—they were just different personalities, Ellie so light and breezy, she herself so serious. She’d been a fool to think she could do a relationship any other way. Surprisingly it was Rose who bought comfort, bringing her in some lunch and sitting on the bed for a while.
‘I went and saw Anna,’ Rose said, ‘that grief counsellor…’ The bite of scrambled egg stilled in her mouth as Rose spoke on. ‘I was shocked by what happened, that I could hit you…’ She started to cry a bit and Alison held her hand. ‘I already had Tim by the time I was your age—and despite what I told your father, what I’ve told myself enough over the years, he wasn’t actually my first.’
Alison was shocked, especially when Rose continued.
‘Or my second.’
‘Enough information!’ Alison smiled.
‘I’ve been holding you back for my own selfish reasons and you’ve been a wonderful daughter, Alison…but you need your life too.’ And she told her what Nick had. ‘You’re holding back too.’
‘No.’ Alison shook her head and Rose, as she often did, rammed home her point. ‘What’s happening with Nick?’
‘He leaves on Sunday,’ Alison said. ‘We had a bit of a row.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He offered to fly me out to Asia—do some travelling with him, just for a few weeks. It’s not that simple, though.’
‘Can you afford it?’ Rose asked, and Alison was so proud of how she was trying—so relieved to have such a long-awaited real conversation with her mum.
‘He offered to pay,’ Alison said. ‘It should be cheap—he’s going right off the beaten track…’
‘You’d need some immunisations…’
Alison shook her head. ‘It’s not the money, Mum. I don’t want to feel like this again in a few weeks. I just want it over with, I just want him gone.’ And she couldn’t even cry because she wanted to be sick, which she was, dashing across the hall and just making it to the loo as Rose stood outside, fretting.
‘Maybe just stick with toast.’
And Alison didn’t answer, just leant over the loo and closed her eyes, because it wasn’t scrambled egg making her sick, and it wasn’t her mother or money stopping her from following her heart now, it wasn’t even her.
She was in no position to be getting immunisations and going off the beaten track.
No position at all.
Of that, she was almost certain.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHE’D bought several pregnancy tests from this chemist without giving it a thought. Ellie panicked on regular occasions, but now that the test was for herself, she felt as if she knew half the shop and was sure the girl serving was the daughter of one of her mum’s friends, though hopefully she didn’t recognise her.
They’d been careful, Alison told herself as she took her little parcel home.
But not quite careful enough, Alison realised as she stared at the little blue cross. And maybe it was coincidence, but as her mind drifted to Nick, his must have drifted to her, because she felt the buzz of her phone.
Can I see you before I go?
Still sick, Alison replied.
I can come over. Do you need anything?
She was tempted to text back Pram, cot, nappies, but instead she wrapped all the evidence back up in a paper bag, put that inside a carrier bag and then in another one and then put it in the outside bin before she texted him back the absolute truth.
I need space.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘YOU missed a great night!’ Moira was at her most bubbly, so too was everyone else as Alison dragged herself into work. ‘Nick knows how to have a good time.’
It was all she heard all morning.
How great the party had been, how much everyone would miss him, and Alison couldn’t face the staffroom on her lunch break, so instead she slipped outside to the little patch of grass behind Emergency, sat in the sun and tried not to think that this time tomorrow he would be on a plane.
There was no question that she must tell him.
The baby was his, he had a right to know, and their child had a right to know about its father too.
And, yes, Alison thought as she closed her eyes and the sun warmed her skin, it would be more sensible by far to have this difficult conversation face to face, but it would be so much easier another way.
She could plan what she said better, Alison told herself, tried to convince herself.
He needed to know that there would be no pressure on him.
It was her choice to keep the baby.
It would be better by email, Alison decided, then wavered. The truth was she couldn’t stand to see his reaction as she crushed all his dreams.
‘Am I disturbing you?’ Amy sat on the bench beside her.
‘Not at all,’ Alison said.
‘I just wanted a bit of peace.’ Amy gave a tired smile. ‘I’ve got so much going on at the moment and they’re all…’ Her voice trailed off for a moment. ‘I’m going to miss Nick,’ she said, and Alison looked, really looked, and saw a flash of tears in the registrar’s eyes. Then Amy’s phone bleeped and she looked down and smiled as she read the text.
‘Speak of the devil.’
This time Alison made sure she was actually in the toilet cubicle when she had her little meltdown.
She was overreacting, she told herself, and yet…and yet… Amy had been acting differently lately and she and Nick did get on.
What? her angry brain demanded. When she had gone home to her mum’s, had Amy come round?
Had Nick told Amy to keep things quiet too?
Oh, God!
Up came her coffee and half a slice of toast and down came the tears.
She needed her head straight, needed to really think this through before she told him.
Somehow she got through the rest of the day. Amy shut herself in her office, no doubt to cry over him, Alison thought savagely.
By the time she was on the bus-ride home she had visions of Amy and herself stuck together in the same maternity ward.
Hell, maybe Moira would be there too.
‘Alison!’ She nearly jumped out of skin as she stepped off the bus and Nick was waiting for her. ‘I was hoping we could talk. I don’t want to leave with things as they are,’ Nick said, as she walked along silently beside him. ‘I don’t want it to end on this note…’
It wasn’t going to!
They walked down the road and he suggested something to eat, which was the last thing she wanted. ‘Can we just sit?’
So they sat on a bench and watched the world go by for a moment.
‘Alison, I don’t know what happened,’ Nick admitted. ‘I know you think the paramedic insinuated something—I didn’t see it as that. Alison, if I had thought for a moment… Do you really think I’d let someone speak about you like that?’
‘How will you speak of me?’ Her eyes glittered with challenge. ‘When you’re showing your photos, how are you going to describe me?’
‘Confusing,’ Nick said, ‘because sometimes I feel closer to you than I ever have to anyone and other times…’
Nick was very easy to talk to, it was she that wasn’t. She was concentrating so hard on not crying,
on not challenging him, on just getting through, she hardly said a word.
‘Will you please at least think about Asia?’ Nick said to her silence.
‘I can’t go to Asia.’
‘Alison, if it’s the money…’
‘It’s not the money,’ Alison gulped, ‘it’s…’ And she bit down on her lips, because she needed to know how she felt before she shared it with him, needed just a moment’s pause before everything in her life suddenly changed.
‘Just go, Nick.’
‘Just like that?’ he challenged.
‘Just like that,’ she confirmed.
And because it had just been a few weeks, because there was no baggage, because he was just moving on, he took her at her word and stood, and so did Alison.
‘Do you want to keep in touch?’ Nick offered, because the poor man had no idea what was coming, no idea just how in touch they’d need to be.
And she didn’t say a word, just nodded, and because she had to, it was Alison who walked away.
‘You okay, darling?’
‘Yes. Sorry I was late, I went to the flat.’
‘You’re not at work, Alison,’ the new Rose said. ‘You don’t have to apologise for being late. How’s the flat looking?’
‘Orchid white.’ Alison gave a wry smile. ‘I’ve finished the lounge, I’m going back tomorrow to do a couple of other rooms, but it looks like an indoor tennis centre with that carpet.’
‘It will be fine once it’s got the furniture in,’ Rose said, and then sat down. ‘You know, I’ve been looking at some brochures…’ She handed one to Alison and for just a second Alison wondered if she knew, because there were pictures of London and her mind jumped for a moment, then swung back as Rose faltered on. ‘Your father and I always spoke about doing a trip to Europe, taking a couple of months…’ And then Alison looked at the brochure, really looked, and, as she seemed to be doing rather a lot lately, tried to keep the tears from coming. ‘It’s for over-fifties, for widows, divorcees… It’s not a meeting thing,’ Rose said primly. ‘They just sort out the accommodation, it’s company…’
‘It sounds wonderful,’ Alison said.
‘I want my life back too.’ Rose was the one crying now. ‘I want to do the things that I always said I would.’
‘And you should.’
‘There’s a cancellation,’ Rose said, and Alison realised then that her mother wasn’t just thinking about it, she really was going to do it. ‘But I’d have to go in three weeks. I’ve got enough annual leave stored up.’
‘Go for it,’ Alison said, and kissed her mum.
‘You might need help with the flat and—’
‘Mum!’ Alison kept her voice light but firm. ‘You have to go.’
And they spent an hour looking on the computer at all the places Rose would visit, all the things she would finally do, and Alison was pleased, more than pleased for her mother, but there was a hollow sadness there too. The conversation, the row that she had staved off for so long—now, she wished she could have had it sooner, because now everyone was moving on and she was the one who was…
Stuck.
She tried to reframe it, tried to rephrase it.
Pregnant, with a mortgage.
She tried and she tried and she tried once again, but no matter how she tried, as she walked into her new home the next day, there was only one other word she could think of—trapped.
Was it wrong to feel trapped?
Was trapped even the right word?
There was another word there, an emotion there that she didn’t want to examine, so instead Alison slapped orchid-white paint on the walls and felt like the worst person in the world, because this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, this wasn’t how she was supposed to feel.
Except she did.
She stared at what was going to be her study, and even that had been a concession, a trauma course instead of a journey, but now even that was looking impossible.
A nursery.
She’d laughed when the real estate agent had said it, he had been so completely off track, yet just a few weeks later that was exactly what it was about to become.
And she stood in the little room and tried hard to picture it.
Staggering in for two a.m. feeds.
She actually could, she could see herself all dishevelled and exhausted and stressed, just like Shelly, could see a pink, screaming baby and a lonely flat and a fridge stuck with postcards from Daddy.
Or worse, far worse for Alison, would be the sight of Nick in the doorway, unshaved and annoyed, and trying to snatch some sleep because he was on call, and just so removed from his own dream…
She slapped the paint onto the wall.
She’d rather, far rather, far, far rather, do it alone.
Which she did.
She got the main bedroom done, and the kitchen and all the lights were blazing until late in the night. And despite what she’d said, a part of her hoped for a knock at the door, for the space she’d insisted on to be suddenly filled, but Nick had clearly taken her at her word.
The smell of paint made her sick, so late in the evening she walked the short walk home, along the foreshore, and she couldn’t help what she did next. Maybe she was a stalker, but she took a little diversion past where Nick was staying and the lights were off and, yes, he could be out, but there was something about an empty home, and Alison knew then he had gone. She took a deep breath and thought about the little bean-sized thing in her womb, the baby he had unwittingly left behind.
‘Can you do me a favour?’ Her voice was a bit shaky and she should perhaps have apologised to Ellie for ringing her so late, but she was frantic.
‘Sure.’
‘Can you tell me your Facebook password?’
‘It says never to reveal your password to anyone.’ Ellie laughed and then promptly revealed it. ‘Don’t you want him to know you’re watching?’
‘You know me too well.’
There was a pause, a tiny pause. ‘You know that he’s…’ Her voice trailed off and Ellie sat in silence on the phone as Alison, with a few short clicks, found out Nick was in New Zealand.
‘Are you okay, Alison?’
‘I’m fine,’ Alison said, then relented, admitting a little of her truth. ‘It just hurts more than it should. I mean, I knew it wasn’t for ever, I knew it could only be short term…’ She couldn’t believe he’d gone. Okay, she’d asked him to, but he really was, grinning from the top of a rock in his profile picture, like that cat that had got the cream, and here she was, feeling as if she was on the top of a rock, but without the safety harness.
She waited till her mum went to bed then sat with a big mug of tea, and it felt different clicking on his profile without Ellie over her shoulder, peering into his life and scrolling through to find out more about the man she loved.
He was more social than her by far.
There were school friends, friends from med school and not just cyber friends. They were in his life, joking with him to get a job, asking when he’d be back, missing him at football and concerts and nights out, and that was aside from family.
And there was Moira.
Missing him already and she’d added a kiss.
And she hoped to catch up with him in Asia.
And there was Gillian, who still messaged him—pretty, funny and patient.
His status was single.
And that hurt.
So too was the fact he never mentioned her—that their ride to Palm Beach, their one massive row was just described as ‘an interesting day’.
There was a life and a family and friends and a whole world waiting for him on the other side of the world, and on this side there was Alison and the little bean-sized thing growing inside that she was trying to get used to.
And maybe she really was a stalker, because she scrolled through Ellie’s friends and then Nick’s and there was no sign of Amy.
And then he updated.
Back from sampling local de
lights. Great to meet cousins—loving it here.
This probably wasn’t the best place to announce a pregnancy, so she contained herself and clicked off and then she went up to bed and lay with her flat stomach and tried to be nice to it.
‘We’ll be okay,’ Alison said, in a voice that didn’t sound entirely convinced.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALISON was sensible.
The world should have been back where it had been two months ago, except a blond English doctor had upended her life and now she somehow had to put it back.
She chose not to tell her mum, because she didn’t want Rose not to take her trip.
But she took folate and saw her GP and then later an obstetrician, who scanned her and told her she was ten weeks pregnant, and she was about to correct him, because Nick had only been gone for two weeks, then remembered that it was dated from the start of her cycle.
And she had to tell him; she’d tried to tell him.
There were about fifty attempts in the draft box of her email and she’d rung three times but hung up before it could connect.
Tonight.
Alison decided as she put on her lanyard and checked all her pens. Tonight she would ring him, before he headed for Asia.
Or maybe, a little voice said as she smiled at Ellie, who was on her way home from night shift, she should wait till he’s there.
‘God, I hate nights,’ Ellie said, and then she looked at her friend. ‘You look awful.’
‘I shifted my stuff yesterday and I’m trying to help Mum pack for her trip—sleep is a distant memory.’
‘Here.’ Ellie handed over her make-up bag. ‘You’ll scare the patients.’
She so could not be bothered with make-up, but Ellie was right—she did look terrible—so Alison retied her hair and put on some mascara and a bit of lip gloss, and when Ellie doused herself in perfume she squirted some at her friend.
‘Still missing him?’ Ellie asked, but Alison just gave a noncommittal shrug.
‘The best way to get over a man is to get under another.’ Ellie grinned. ‘And you’ve no hope looking like that.’
Her Little Secret Page 11
