Unsuitable

He could never have asked her this is the daylight. “How did you go on without him? They didn’t think he was going to die. I remember everyone thought he’d pull through. You had four kids, one on the way, no job, rent to pay, no other family left to help.”

She sighed. It sounded ancient to him. “I almost didn’t, honey. I’ve never stopped missing him. But I had no option. You do what you have to do. You do it better when it’s for people you love. And don’t forget I had you. I could never have done it without you.”

She came across the room and laid her hand on his chest. “It will pass. You’ll absorb the loss and you’ll move forward. But I’m not going to lie to you and tell you time heals, it just dulls, and I won’t belittle what you had with Audrey. I can see what it’s done to you. I wish you weren’t a giant so I could gather you up again and kiss it better, but I can’t and you’d be embarrassed and I’m so proud of who you grew up to be, baby.”

“Jesus, Mum.”

She took his jaw between her fingers and shook his head. And they both knew it wasn’t for the swearing.

26: Suitable

Dr Barber held Audrey’s file in her hands. “I know why you’re feeling unwell and it’s not an effect of the meningitis, but this might be a shock to you.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Yes.” Dr Barber sat back in surprise. “Did you guess?”

Audrey didn’t feel shock. She felt resolved. This was how it would be now. Mia was getting a sibling. “I took a test.”

“I hope this is good news, if unexpected. There are no complications from the meningitis and you’re otherwise healthy. I can recommend you to a gynaecologist if you don’t have your own. But there is something else. Do twins run in your family? You tested high for hCG, human chorionic gonadotropin, which is often an indicator of twins, but it’s not strong enough on its own to tell us anything conclusive. But along with the excessive fatigue, it’s worth considering. It’s a little soon for an ultrasound and it may not be conclusive, but it can’t hurt.”

Twins. Twins. Two babies. At the same time. Impossible.

That was why she was exhausted. Why her body felt as if it belonged to someone else. If she’d thought one baby would change everything two was going to—

“Audrey, are you okay?” Dr Barber put a glass of water in front of her. “This is a shock, I am sorry. It’s quite a miracle pregnancy given you weren’t ovulating. It may, of course, not be twins.”

“The baby’s father has twin sisters.”

“Hmm well, then, hmm, it’s not my area of expertise. Try to get that ultrasound next week. It’s early but you might get lucky.”

Lucky. Is this what lucky felt like? This was as far removed a feeling from winning the lottery as Audrey could fathom. She supposed she felt stunned, because she didn’t feel anything else; not panic, certainly not excitement, just tired and concerned this blanket of exhaustion would go on forever. She’d get as big as a watermelon, as the back of a bus and she’d have no energy to drag herself around.

She paid for her appointment, made a new one with her gynaecologist and drove to work. She would’ve taken a nap in the car but she had deadlines waiting. She took a long conference call, proofed a proposal, and attended two meetings, one annoyingly unnecessary, and the other brain numbingly long. She could barely keep her eyes open and her feet moving. She tried not to think about the baby, or the possibility there was more than one. She was fifteen weeks pregnant. She had twenty-eight weeks to get used to the idea, maybe less. This was her new reality and all she wanted to do was lie down behind her desk and not get up for the rest of the year.

She already couldn’t do this alone, and if it was twins, she wasn’t going to make it.

“Aud, hey, oh God. Wow, are you all right? You look dreadful?”

She blinked at Les standing in the doorway of her office. She couldn’t talk to Merrill about this. There was no point doing anything other than informing her parents. Barrett was in Africa. He’d come back if she asked him too, but these were another man’s babies.

Babies. Plural. She was already thinking about them as two.

“Close the door.”

“If you’re sick again I should be calling an ambulance.”

“I’m not sick.”

Les closed the door. “You’ve seen a ghost then. Oh heck, what have you found under the photocopier? Don’t tell me they’re cleaning out legal and I don’t know about it.” She sat with exaggerated heft. “You know what, doesn’t matter. I’m in love and I’m loved by the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and there are other jobs. Hit me with it.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Les stood. She walked around the chair and sat down again, like a cat trying to settle. “And you don’t want to be.”

“I don’t want to be.” But was that still true? “I didn’t.” She shook her head. She wouldn’t mention the twins until she knew for sure. She was confusing Les. “It’s a shock.” She’d gone from wanting to avoid this any way possible, to resolved to having the baby and back around to stunned by the idea of twins. Her head was in a worse place than when she had meningitis.

“Aud, what can I do?”