For Better for Worse

‘And so you prefer to protect him at your own expense. That’s a very dangerous course of action which can lead to a very deep and destructive sense of resentment, not just on your part but on his as well if he does ever discover the truth.’

‘It doesn’t matter what you say,’ Zoe told her stubbornly, desperation lending a sharp edge to her voice. ‘I’ve made up my mind that I want to go ahead with a termination.’

‘Very well. I’ll arrange for you to see our doctor. It will be at least two weeks, possibly closer to three before she…’

‘What?’ Zoe stared at her. ‘But I wanted… I thought…’ She stood up abruptly.

She had come here fully expecting, believing that the termination procedure could be carried out almost immediately. That was what these places were for, wasn’t it?

‘I’m sorry,’ the counsellor was saying gently. ‘But we always insist on giving women time to think things through properly before we operate. We’ve got yourtelephone number here, haven’t we? I’ll make an appointment for you to see the doctor as soon as possible and ring you. She’ll discuss all the medical procedures with you then…’

* * *

Ben rang ten minutes after she got back to the flat. His voice sounded harsh and faraway.

‘Where have you been?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve rung three times.’

‘Er… I was… I had to work late,’ she lied tersely. ‘How’s Sharon? When are you coming back?’

It was several seconds before he replied and when he did his voice sounded even more distant.

‘That’s why I rang,’ he told her. ‘I’ll be back later this evening.’

‘And Sharon?’ she pressed.

Again he was silent.

‘I can’t talk about it now. I’ll tell you everything when I get back.’

* * *

Miserably Zoe stared at the meal she had just made for herself and now no longer wanted. He would eat on the train, Ben had told her, because he didn’t know what time he would be in.

She felt drained and depressed. When she had made that appointment at the clinic, she had thought… hoped…

She knew what she wanted to do, what she had to do, she thought angrily. She didn’t need any more time to think; she had done enough of that already. Her head, her brain ached with the strain of it.

What had the woman been trying to do? Make it even worse for her than it already was? All right, so she would feel guilt… maybe even regret… Quickly she pushed that knowledge aside. Why was it that everyone got so damn sentimental over conception? And how many of them wanted to know once the child was born? You only had to look around you to see how many children suffered every kind of deprivation and cruelty, and not necessarily in the Third World and supposedly less aware countries.

Surely it was far better to end it now, when the only person to be affected was her? If she allowed the child to be born, would he or she thank her? Would Ben? Would her parents? All of those closest to her in then-separate ways had betrayed their real feelings.

She got up, pacing the flat restlessly. Why couldn’t she have got it all over and done with straight away? This waiting, this awareness and knowledge that with every day that passed her child tightened its hold on life, was a burden she was not equipped to carry.

Ben was back earlier than she had expected. He looked tense and tired when she let him into the flat.

‘You’re here, then,’ he said flatly, almost as though he half hoped she might not be.

A tiny shiver of sensation brushed icily over her skin.

‘Of course I’m here,’ she agreed, forcing herself to ignore it. ‘Where else would I be?’

‘Working?’ Ben suggested.

‘What does that mean?’ she demanded.

‘You weren’t working late. I rang the hotel.’

Her heart sank, panic and ice-cold churning sickness in her stomach.