by Bloom, Anna
I snort. “That’s true. I did say that.”
“Want me to come?”
“Do you want to come?”
“With you, frequently, but I can manage dinner I guess.”
“Elijah!” I giggle, uncaring of the people passing by who stop to look at the woman laughing in the middle of the street. “What’s it about?”
“Who knows? Just a bunch of old farts who mother is probably trying to get money out of to fund the foundation.”
“You aren’t selling it.”
“Keeping it real, Faith. I’m just keeping it real.”
“So is this what being a Fairclough is going to be like? Lots of meals with boring people.”
“You can’t backtrack, you’ve already said yes. It’s written in stone now.”
I grin, stupidly. “I’m not backtracking. I’ve got to go, I’m at the flat.” I hesitate. “Any news on the jury?”
“No.” His tone clips a little. He thinks he’s failed Melanie and I hate the way it’s eating away at him.
“Listen.” I want to cheer him up. “I’ve got something to show you when you get home.”
“Does it involve being naked?”
“Eli! That does it, I’m hanging up now.”
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
I sigh deeply and use my long abandoned flat key to open the external doors to my little apartment block. As I walk the stairs, I glance at the keys in my hand. Dan’s is still on there. On an impulse I unhook it and then chuck it to the bottom of my leather tote. I doubt I will be using that key anytime soon, or maybe ever.
I knock on the door and Tabitha calls out to let myself in. She’s in the kitchen as I walk through.
“You know it’s your flat, you can just let yourself in.”
“Well I don’t know what you’ll be up to. I think I’ll knock.”
“I’m not going to be up to anything am I? I don’t have a boyfriend anymore and I spend my time here watching telly or at work watching lots of girls my age spending all their money on cheaply made clothes.
So she’s in a good mood. Excellent.
“Have you spoken to Lewis?” I ask. She hands me a cup of coffee and I wait for it to make me sick, pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t.
This pregnancy malarkey is easy. I don’t know what I was so worried about.
Tabs' face turns red and then she bursts into tears. “No, he won’t talk to me.”
“Tabitha, this court case must be agony for him. I know waiting for the jury is eating Elijah up; imagine what it’s doing to Lewis and Philip.” I haven’t seen Philip, Lewis’ mild-mannered father, since the night he dropped a lasagne on the floor when he found out Lewis had knocked up the youngest Fairclough, but Eli had told me he’s been in court every day. “It’s got to take its toll.”
She wipes at her face. “So why is he pushing me away?”
“You feel you gave up everything for him?” I ask softly.
“No! Maybe. I don’t know. I feel like he offered me something but then couldn’t see it through.”
“Freedom?”
“Yes. How do you know?”
“Because it’s exactly what Eli offered me when we met.”
“But I thought you were the one who rescued him from our family?”
“He rescued me first, before he broke my heart.”
She presses her palms into her eye sockets and takes a deep shuddering breath. “So, you're saying don’t give up?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I’m saying don’t give up, but then also don’t just sit here and grieve for what could have been. It is what it is, and you need to be happy in your own life.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I laugh, although it’s not funny. “No, that is not easy for me to say at all.”
“Sorry, I’m being a bitch. I know you are going through a lot, too.”
She doesn’t even know about the baby yet, so what is she talking about? “What do you mean?”
“You know with the police and that awful guy.”
“Oh that. Yeah.”
She meets my gaze for a moment and opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but I cut her off. “Listen, Tabs. I need to talk to you about something.”
“What? Have you heard from my mother? Does she want me to go back?”
“Haven’t you spoken to your mother?”
“No.”
“Not at all? She’s just lost her eldest son. I know she has her issues, but maybe you should put a call in.”
Tabitha shakes her head. “No. I’m not ready for her yet, especially after Lewis dumping me. She will just tell me I told you so and I will hate her even more.”
“Hate is a strong word.”
Tabs grunts before pulling herself together. “What did you want to talk about?”
I motion for the sofa squeezed into the small lounge. “Shall we go and sit down?”
Her eyes narrow. “Sure.”
We haven’t even reached the sofa, which is all of five paces away, when my phone rings. Eli.
“I’m with Tabs,” I singsong as I answer. I listen to what he has to say and then hang up. It wasn’t a call for chit chat.
“That was short.” She sits on the sofa still wiping at her eyes.
“The jury have returned with their verdict; he’s on his way back to court.”
The colour drains from Tabs' face. Please let this go well.
I need to know this goes well. I need to know that fighting is worth it.
Tabs reaches for my hand and squeezes it tight and the little sentiment touches my heart.
“Sweetheart, I need to tell you something.”
“Yes?” She looks at me warily.
“Eli and I are having a baby.”
“What?” Her bottom lip wobbles.
“I’m so sorry, Tabs, but I wanted to tell you straightaway. I couldn’t bear to keep it a secret from you.”
“Sorry? Why on earth are you sorry?”
“Because I know how devastated you were… you know.” I can’t bring myself to say it, not now I’ve got a little life growing in my tummy.
“And as you said that very day, everything happens for a reason. I’m eighteen and now I’m single. So, you know, it was probably for the best.”
“You are being very brave.”
She laughs and wipes at tears that splatter down onto her cheeks. “Oh yeah, very brave, keep crying all the sodding time.”
“Brave to me.”
She nudges her shoulder against mine. “Maybe I’m learning from my big sister.”
I wish what she was saying was true, but I know I’m not brave. Not in the slightest.
“How are you feeling anyway?” Her red-rimmed gaze sweeps over me. “You seem okay.”
“I felt awful, totally hideous, but I seem better today; the sickness seems to have lifted.”
“That’s what happened to me and then they said that my symptoms probably improved when the baby died.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide above her fingers. “Oh no, but that’s not what’s happening to you. Oh shit.”
My hand automatically goes to my flat tummy, to my little lentil. “But I only saw it a few days ago, there was a strong heartbeat.”
“Faith, don’t listen to me. It could be anything. Maybe you are one of those lucky women who get off lightly.”
I know there is nothing lucky about me. I’m not going to get the lentil because of all the very bad things I’ve done.
I don’t deserve it and I was stupid to think otherwise.
“Faith, calm down. You’re panicking.” Tabs grabs at my hand but I can hardly feel it. My memories have pulled me back to when youth and anger fired my soul, back to dark days that I’ve never let out of their place and never will.
My phone rings and I absentmindedly answer. I barely listen to Eli over the thump of my heart rushing in my ears. Boom. Boom. Boom.
“That’s fantastic.” I can barely hea
r my words.
“Guilty of manslaughter,” I tell Tabitha, but I’m already standing up ready to go. Without a word I’m out the door and running.
Sixteen
“Miss Hitchin, you don’t have an appointment.” The lady at the desk implores me from over the rim of her glasses. “I can fit you in next week?”
“But I can’t wait until next week. I need to see Dr Vernon now.”
I can’t explain to the lady with the bad perm that I have to know now. I can’t wait a week to discover if the reason I am feeling so much better is because the lentil is no longer beating its heart within me.
I can’t explain anything apart from the awful thumping sense of doom I have hanging over my head.
The door with Dr Vernon’s name engraved on a silver sign and slotted into a changeable holder opens and the woman herself pokes her head outside, sandwich packet in her hand.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a scene.” My cheeks burn and the booming pound of my heart I’ve had since I left the flat thuds in my ears. “I just really need to see you.” I wipe at my face and try to hide the tears gathering on my lashes.
“Faith?” She beckons me over and I walk to her door, my legs trembling. “I’ve finished consultations for the day, but come in, I was doing paperwork.”
She motions to a seat which I fall into with little control.
“What’s going on?” She fits her half-eaten sandwich back in the box and pushes it across the desk. See, even the sight of a half-eaten sandwich isn’t making me ill. It’s bad news. I can feel it in my heart.
“I think I’m going to have a miscarriage.” I study my fingers, picking at a loose bit of skin around a nail.
“And why do you think that?” Her voice is soft and reassuring—but of course it is, she does this for a living. She must break bad news to people on a daily basis.
“I was talking to Elijah’s sister and she had a miscarriage a good few weeks ago and she said all her symptoms disappeared a couple of days beforehand.” My words blurt out, tumbling over one another.
Dr Vernon nods understandingly. “But hormones fluctuate constantly in pregnancy. It’s the hormones that make you feel ill. Had Elijah’s sister got to nearly nine weeks?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t ask.
“Faith, when you were in here yesterday, I noticed you seemed very uncomfortable. I planned to ask you at your next appointment.”
“How so?” I ask, but I know what she is talking about. It was obvious to all of us in the room that I had issues with relaxing and being touched.
“The way you reacted on the table.” She motions to the bed I laid on. “It is what I would call a safeguarding flag. I would consider reactions like that as those of someone who was in an abusive relationship.”
“Oh, God. No!” My cheeks flame a scorching burn. “No, Eli and I, we are perfect.”
“And the baby was planned?”
“Well, no.” I straighten my back. “But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Some women feel pressure from their partners to continue a pregnancy.”
“No, not at all. I don’t feel any pressure.” Her words twist my stomach.
She sighs and her gaze searches my face.
“I had a traumatic childhood,” I say eventually. I’d rather she knows that than thinks Eli is hurting me somehow.
She nods. “Okay, but you know having a baby is not a private experience. Not all your scans will be as invasive as yesterday’s, but at the birth, before the birth, people will be touching you. It’s something you need to consider.”
I hadn’t even thought about it. It hadn’t crossed my mind.
“Is Elijah the only man you’ve been with since you’ve been an adult? It might be worth considering some counselling to help you get things more settled.”
“No.” I shake my head. Here is one of the biggest ironies of my life. “I just like to be in control, and I guess yesterday I wasn’t.” I breathe out a blast of air. This conversation seems entirely unnecessary. “Anyway, I probably won’t have to worry will I if there is no baby.”
“Come on, let’s put your mind at ease.” She shoots me a stern look. “I don’t do this all the time, so please don’t come here every week expecting the same, but I can see you are clearly distressed and that really isn’t good for early pregnancy.”
I jump up and walk over to the bed. When she tells me to tuck my heels in and lower my knees, I force myself not to react, counting in my head and keeping my attention focused on the screen.
There it is. The flicker. The little squashed shape. The heartbeat strong and very much alive.
I sob loudly and raise my hands to my face and Dr Vernon steps away while I try to sort myself out.
“Thank you. I’m so sorry for turning up.”
“It’s okay, but, Faith, I think you need help. Whatever happened in your past; it’s still got a vice-like control over you. You’re going to be a mother, please think about getting help.”
I nod and reach for the little black and white picture she tears off the printer. I press it against my chest. “Okay, I’ll think about it. I’m sorry again.”
“See you in a few weeks for your twelve-week scan.”
I nod and send her what I hope is a warm smile. “See you in four weeks.”
I walk out and find intense blue eyes watching me. “What are you doing here?” I almost gasp. I only spoke to him an hour ago and he was in court.
He shakes his head and stands, sliding his hands from my shoulders down to my fingers. “What are you doing here? Tabitha sent me a message and told me how you freaked out. When are you going to start talking to me, Faith?”
“I just came straight here.”
“Without even thinking of calling me and telling me your fears?”
“You were in court. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
His gaze is fierce. “And I said you and the baby were more important than anything. When will you start trusting me?”
I turn slightly to the side and find the receptionist with the awful hair avidly watching. “I do trust you,” I keep my voice low. “I just panicked.”
His features soften and I find myself releasing a huge breath of air. “Can you panic with me in the future? I firmly believe panic would be far more pleasant if we panicked together.”
I nod and then lift the little black and white scan photo. “False alarm. Apparently, I’m just one of those lucky women.” I arch an eyebrow and he takes the paper, inspecting it closely.
“Definite growth since yesterday.” He grins and the blues shine bright.
“That’s what I thought.”
Dr Vernon comes out of her office, her handbag in hand. She really was leaving. Imagine if I’d missed her and had to wait until tomorrow… or next week. “Off you go, both of you. Faith, try to relax. Remember what we talked about.”
Those blues stare at me with intense scrutiny, but I grab his hand and pull him for the door of the office. However, once we are out of the building he stops on the street.
“Faith, what is going on?”
I smile brightly. “Nothing; I just freaked out because Tabs told me all her pregnancy symptoms disappeared before she lost her baby. It made me panic. I feel so much better today, and it was so sudden.”
His face is deadly serious as he watches me and thinks. “I don’t think you are telling me everything.” He holds his hands up in a helpless gesture and it makes my chest ache.
“There is nothing to tell.”
“So what did Dr Vernon talk to you about?”
I sigh deeply, stubbing the toe of my boot into the pavement. “Do we have to do this in the middle of the street?”
“We have to do it. So middle of the street, home, pub… wherever, you have got to start talking to me.” Lifting a hand, he pushes it through his hair. “Faith, I can’t help you if you don’t talk.”
My shoulders slump with a force of weight I can’t withstan
d. “Maybe you can’t help me with everything. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“What did she say?”
“She noticed how nervous I got yesterday, okay? Are you happy now? She wanted to check I wasn’t in an abusive relationship, and she said.” I almost choke on the words. His eyes are wide staring at me in bewilderment. “She said I should talk to someone, a professional, because privacy wasn’t something I was going to be able to maintain as a pregnant woman.”
Eli spins away, his hands in his hair, his shoulders high. “That guy is never going to stop ruining your life.”
“He is.” Why does everything always come back to Aiden and what that arsehole did to me?
I tug on the sleeve of Eli’s overcoat, turning him to face me. “I can fight it. I know I can.”
His expression crumples into one of heartbreak. “You can’t if you keep running, Faith. You are so complicated.”
I push at him and step back. “Complicated or fucked-up?”
He grins and a flash of red-hot anger flames my skin. “Complicated. I see how you are with me, you allow me to lead you, take you.”
“Because I love you, you bloody bastard. I trust you.”
The blues level on my face and within them I see a shadow of doubt. Doubt I’ve always run from. “I know you trust me, and thank fuck for that, but your heart will never truly be mine until that guy is behind bars and you aren’t hiding everything in your heart.”
I fucking hate it but a tear trickles down my cheek. “I’m not hiding anything.”
He reaches for me, gentle hands sliding around my cheek and his thumbs wipe at my tears. “Then you are lying to yourself.” Bending down, he kisses me softly. “Now, if you’ve finished your dramatic and secretive dashes across London, I’ve got something to show you at home.”
“Are you supposed to be celebrating your win? It’s a fantastic moment, Eli. I’m so proud of you.”
“I want to celebrate with you, but I’m not going to until it’s all over. Until we get justice for you.”
His declaration clamps an iron guard around my heart. “We will.”
“I know we will.” Fierce determination narrows his eyes. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “Not you, Eli. Not you. We will hire the guy you suggested. Okay?”
