For Better for Worse

‘Oh, I see,’ Ann interrupted with a grin. ‘You’re not trying to tell me that you’re pregnant, are you?’

Pregnant! Zoe stared at her. ‘No… no, of course I’m not. It’s just the after-effects of this bout of food poisoning I had the other week.’

She broke off, irritated by the wryly arch expression on her friend’s face.

‘Look, just because you couldn’t wait to produce,’ she began, and then stopped as she saw Ann’s archness give way to genuine concern.

‘Sorry,’ she apologised gruffly. ‘It’s just that feeling so rotten is beginning to get me down. What with that and Ben’s boss being so demanding and picky… I’ve hardly seen Ben for the last couple of weeks, he’s been working so hard.’

‘That’s the trouble with the restaurant trade,’ Ann sympathised. ‘What you could do with is setting up in business on your own.’

Zoe said nothing. Normally that kind of comment from one of her oldest and closest friends would have immediately led to her aching to confide their plans, almost bursting with the effort of controlling her excitement and elation, but since their return from their foray into Wiltshire she had felt so sick and tired that she had not been able to raise any enthusiasm for anything. Not even for sex, as Ben had remarked only last night when she had withdrawn from his arms, irritably claiming that she was too tired and then immediately feeling so tearful and emotional that she had longed for him to take hold of her again; to wrap his arms round her and keep her safe.

Safe from what? From the sudden unpredictability of her unfamiliar moods and emotions?

Pregnant! She grimaced to herself as she left the restaurant and headed back to the flat.

Ann was an old and close friend, but she had tended to become rather baby-orientated since the arrival of her first child six months previously.

Normally Zoe, who was godmother to little William, enjoyed hearing about his exploits, even if when she was alone she sometimes secretly marvelled at the change in her old friend from madcap girl-about-town to environmentally aware and concerned mother, and felt relieved that she was not in her friend’s shoes, but today for some reason Ann’s conversation had jarred uncomfortably on her.

It must be because of her anxiety about the house, and the fact that they could not go ahead and make any real firm plans until they had confirmation that planning permission would be granted, that she was feeling so on edge and out of sorts, Zoe reflected tiredly. She had always been inclined to be impatient of delays.

Pregnant… That was a joke, and impossible, thank goodness. She never missed taking her Pill, wanting the responsibility of an unplanned pregnancy as little as Ben did. That was something they both shared: their awareness of how impossible it would be for them to have a child at this stage in their lives.

Ben had made it more than clear that he never wanted children, and if she had ever doubted that he meant it she only had to think of his reaction to the news of his sister Sharon’s pregnancy.

Her head was beginning to ache muzzily, the nausea she had experienced over lunch returning in a suddenly sharply urgent queasy wave. Oh, God, she wasn’t going to pass out here in the street, was she?

She stopped walking, clutching dizzily at a nearby lamp-post, irritably aware of the curious looks passers-by were giving her, the careful way they were skirting round her, their expressions sharply in focus one minute and distantly blurred the next, strangers’ faces, some expressing disdain, some apprehension, others curiosity or uninterest.

‘Are you all right, dear?’

Shakily Zoe focused on the old woman who was addressing her, rejecting her initial impression that the woman was one of the city’s growing army of bag ladies as her brain slowly registered the shopping in the tired-looking plastic bag and the fact that the woman’s clothes, although shabby, were scrupulously clean.

‘I’m fine,’ Zoe lied. ‘I just felt a bit sick…’

The old woman nodded sympathetically. ‘I was like that with my first. Sick as a dog, I was, morning, noon and night. Course, it was different in them days…’

Nauseously Zoe let her conversation wash over her, too busy fighting off the invasive clammy feeling of fear which was now beginning to permeate her nausea.

Pregnant. She couldn’t be. Must not be!

* * *

She was still thinking the same thing two hours later as she stood in the bathroom shivering with shock and disbelief as she stared at the incontrovertible evidence of the home pregnancy test she had just done.

Behind her on the floor lay the test she had done earlier. Like its fellow, it had shown the tell-tale evidence of what she had truly believed was impossible.

Sickly she kneeled down to pick up the small piece of plastic. Such an innocuous, almost innocent thing and yet it had changed her whole life. Destroyed her whole life.

Perhaps it was wrong, perhaps she had done the test incorrectly.

Feverishly she hurried towards the door. She had to go out and buy another test, try again. She must have done something wrong… yes, that was definitely it. She was letting Ann with all her silly talk of pregnancy get to her… that was all it was.

She was halfway across the room when she heard Ben’s key in the lock.

Immediately panic hit her, and she rushed back into the bathroom frantically gathering up the box and the betraying test wands, wrapping them in a towel she grabbed off the rail, her stomach muscles clenching anxiously as she heard Ben calling her name.