Five Unforgivable Things. Vivien Brown
pack, a different make this time, read the leaflet from beginning to end, waited another twenty-four hours to make sure my wee was extra early-morning strong, washed my hands and the sink and every little nook and cranny in the space between my legs … and the second test told me exactly the same thing. I was definitely, absolutely, one hundred per cent pregnant.
It all felt so unlikely, so unexpected, so unreal. I was twenty-six, with no husband, no savings, no home of my own. I wasn’t ready. And I was pretty sure Dan wasn’t ready either.
***
We were in his room when I told him. We’d not long been home from work and Dan was still wearing his suit, and a blue and grey striped tie that made him look like some sort of public schoolboy. Somehow the formality made it easier. Like it wasn’t the real Dan. Like I was telling it to someone else.
‘No! Oh, Kate, you can’t be.’
I watched his face turn white right in front of my eyes.
‘Yes, I can. And I am.’
‘Well, how the hell did that happen?’
‘The usual way, I imagine. As far as I remember it, you took my clothes off, we kissed for a while, and then you put your penis inside my …’
‘Yes, okay. I know that part, so you can cut the sarcasm. I mean, how did it not work? The pill? I thought you said …’
‘That it was safe? I know I did, and I believed it, honestly, but it looks like I was wrong.’
We both sat there, side by side, on the edge of his bed, and stared at everything but each other. The alarm clock ticked rhythmically beside us. We didn’t speak for what felt like ages. Well, what was there to say? The enormity of the situation was only just starting to sink in for me, and I’d had a few days to get used to it, so what must it be like for Dan?
I could hear his flatmate Rich moving about in the kitchen down the hall, banging a spoon against a pan as he cooked something that was bound to be red and spicy – it always was – for our dinner, singing along tunelessly to the music on the radio. The Bee Gees, ‘Night Fever’, turned up way too loud. Even without being able to see him, I knew the moves he would be making as he danced like Travolta’s poor ginger-headed relation, jabbing his long spiky arms into the air, whatever was on the spoon flicking off and landing in little splatters across the tiles. Thank God he didn’t have a white suit!
‘So, what do you want to do?’
‘Do?’
‘About the pregnancy. About the baby?’
‘I don’t know, Dan. At the moment I’m trying not to think about it as a baby at all. I’m only a couple of weeks overdue, so it’s very early days. I don’t suppose it even has arms or legs or anything yet.’
‘Like some sort of amoeba thing, you mean? Just a shapeless blob?’
‘Maybe.’
‘We still have to do something though, don’t we? Make decisions, I mean. It may just be cells or jelly or whatever, and nothing like a proper baby yet, but it isn’t going to stay that way for long.’
‘No.’
‘So?’
I closed my eyes and screwed my fists into balls, feeling my jagged nails dig in to my palms. I’d been nibbling them a lot these last few days, and not very expertly either. ‘I don’t know. All right? I just don’t know. I need more time to think about it.’
‘Okay. I guess I do too.’
We both jumped as Rich thumped hard on the door. ‘Dinner’s up, you two! Come and get it!’
‘Shall we?’ Dan reached for my hand and pulled me to my feet.
‘Well, I don’t suppose putting it off for a few hours is going to make much difference, is it? And I’m starving.’
‘Eating for two already?’ He forced a smile and ran his hands in little cautious circles over my tummy.
‘It’s not funny, Dan.’
‘I know.’ He sat down again and untied his laces, slipping his feet out of his shoes, then pulled off his tie and flicked the top button of his shirt open. I caught a glimpse of a few lone hairs curling high on his chest, and there was a big hole in the toe of his sock. Dan. This was Dan. Ordinary, down to earth, and suddenly vulnerable, Dan. Not some stranger in a suit, but my Dan. This was the man I loved, the man I had accidentally made a baby with, and nothing could change that. It was done, and whatever happened now, we were in it together.
‘Not a word to Rich, all right?’ I slipped my hand into Dan’s and squeezed it. ‘Not so much as a hint.’
‘Of course not. And if we decide to … you know … then there’ll be nothing to tell anyway, will there?’
‘Decide to what, Dan?’
‘Come on, Kate.’ He shook his head but he wouldn’t look at me. ‘That’s enough for now. No more talk. We need time, like we said, okay? Time to think, before we do or say anything else. Before we decide. Together. Now, let’s go out there, just act as normally as we can, and eat, shall we?’
But I knew what he meant. It was as near as either of us had come to saying the dreaded word out loud. Abortion. The word that had been banging around in my head, almost from the moment I’d known. But it wasn’t the only option, was it? And Dan obviously didn’t think so either, because three days later, kneeling amongst the damp autumn leaves rotting to mush on the path as I sat shivering on a bench in the park, he pulled out a ring in a red velvet box and asked me to marry him.
***
There didn’t seem much point in waiting. Hanging on until we’d saved enough for a big glitzy wedding or the deposit on a house was pretty pointless in our situation, because it would have taken years, and we didn’t have years. We were getting married for two reasons only: because we loved each other and because I was pregnant. And it made sense to do it as soon as possible, before the baby was born.
I hadn’t been inside a church, except for the usual hatches, matches and despatches, for years, so the local register office would have suited me just fine, but Dan had other ideas. ‘We Campbells are a very traditional family,’ he said, clasping my newly ringed hand in his and wearing his serious face. ‘So, if you don’t have any particular leanings towards a church around here, then I’d quite like us to do it back at home, in the church in the village. It’s a lovely old building, ivy on the walls and all that, and it’s where my parents got married, and Jane, and where we were both christened. Mum will take care of the flowers, and the food. It’s what she’s good at. And we can use the barn again, for the party afterwards. It’ll be easy to arrange – and quick – and it will hardly cost us anything. What do you think?’
‘I suppose we could. But how about my family? My friends? My mum?’
‘They can all come down. It’s not far on the train. Your mum will be very welcome to come and stay at the farm, of course, for a few days. Or for as long as she likes. And Trevor.’
‘Trevor?’
‘Well, she’ll want him there, won’t she? And you’ll need him there to give you away …’
‘Oh, no, I won’t.’
‘Sorry. I just thought that, without a dad, he would be the next best thing, and you might …’
‘No way!’
‘Well, who then?’
‘I don’t know. Can’t your dad do it?’
‘I don’t think it works like that. It’s meant to be someone from your family, someone handing you over to me. You know, body and soul, to be my chattel for ever, in exchange for a few camels, that kind of thing. And so I can have my wicked way with you whenever I want to!’
‘Well,