benches when I get there. His gangly legs are stretched out in front of him and he’s carrying a bunch of freesias with foil wrapped around the stems.
He looks up when I say hello and squints into the light.
‘These are for you,’ he says holding out the flowers. They smell amazing. ‘I’m sorry about before.’
‘About what?’
‘Er, for being in bed with Annalisa when you rang to tell me you’re pregnant? I feel awful.’
‘Don’t worry, honestly I’ve forgotten already.’ A picture of her, nude, black hair flowing all over the pillow pops into my head. ‘Was she naked?’ I ask.
‘I thought you’d forgotten,’ says Jim. ‘Sorry,’ I mumble. ‘I have, I have.’
I sit down beside him. The evening sun flickers like embers on the river in front of us. ‘Anyway,’ I say. ‘Look at this.’
I undo the front pocket of my bag, take out the test and hand it to him. He unwraps it, looks at me, squeezes my thigh, then holds up the test to the light.
‘Mmm. There’s definitely a cross there isn’t there?’
‘Really? Oh God, I was hoping…Do you think?’
The reality hits me, there’s no getting away from this now. I burst into tears, tears of pure shock.
‘Sorry,’ I say, ‘I just don’t know what to do. I cannot believe this is happening, what are we going to do?’
Jim rubs his face with his hands then puts an arm around me and we don’t say anything for a while, just stare blankly at the water. Then Jim says, ‘I don’t know. But whatever happens it will be alright, OK? I promise. Whatever happens, I’m here for you.’
In reality there never really was any question of whether I was going to keep the baby.
‘It’s your decision,’ Jim said, as we walked across Millennium Bridge. ‘I’ll stand by you whatever you decide.’
It felt like I was alone at that moment. As if the glittering towers at either side, the Gherkin glowing orange like a burning rocket and the river below us were holding their breath, awaiting my decision.
But the truth was, I had already made my decision. The decision was made the moment the blue cross emerged. If I was eighteen, I wouldn’t think twice, I’d have an abortion. But I am twenty-eight, a grown woman and besides, the way things are going lately – Laurence showing up out of the blue and now this, the second earth-shattering event of the year and it’s only April – half of me wonders whether life is trying to tell me something and I should sit up and listen.
‘I want to keep it,’ I say. And even though I mean it, I still want to gobble all the words back again as soon as they’ve left my mouth.
‘You do?’ Jim stops, turns and looks at me. He looks…what is that look?…delighted?! And for a fleeting second, I think what a brilliant dad he’ll make and maybe, just maybe this isn’t so terrible after all.
‘Yes,’ I say looking at him. ‘It’s scary as hell but I do. I mean, it’s not sunk in yet, and this isn’t conventional. Actually it’s utterly mental! But…’
But what? I think.
‘But to have an abortion would feel like the coward’s way out,’ I say, and for that moment I really believe what I’m saying. ‘It would feel like not choosing life. Not just literally in terms of the baby, but for me, for us.’
Jim gets hold of my hand. We’re right on top of the bridge now and the wind is blowing our hair sideways, making our eyes sting.
‘I agree, Tess, it’s alright, I agree…’ He says beaming at me now.
‘And the main reason,’ I add.
‘What’s the main reason?’ Jim asks.
‘In the future, the years to come, I couldn’t deal with what could have happened, you know?’
‘I know, I know.’
‘I couldn’t deal with what might have been.’
‘I knew as soon as I set eyes on Mac that I was in big trouble. At fifty to my twenty-six, he was way too old. But he was so bloody sexy – a big hairy bear on wheels, how could I resist that? People stare when he’s pushing Layla down the street in his leathers and old enough to be her grandad but I don’t care. He’s not what I expected, but he’s a kitten. The most loving dad Layla could ever wish for.’
Georgie, 27, Brighton
I could tell Jim was secretly delighted by his own virility – by the fact that he shot and he scored. But I also knew, despite his usual optimism, that he was freaked out beyond belief.
The days that followed were totally surreal.We were both – we still are – in a state of shock and took to calling each other sometimes three times a day with phone calls that went a bit this.
Me: Hello
Jim: Hello
Long pause
Jim: How are you feeling?
Me: Weird. How are you feeling?
Jim: Yeah, weird
Long pause
Jim: I’m going to be a dad, I can’t believe it
Me: You can’t believe it!? Try being the one who’s got to carry the thing for nine months
Jim: I thought I wouldn’t be able to have kids though, that I’d have killed all my strong swimmers with all the booze I’ve quaffed
(See, I was so right about the virility thing)
Me: Well you can and it’s true
Jim: I know, I just can’t believe it though, it’s like it’s happening to someone else
That particular line was not that encouraging. And I told him so.
We’re on the fourth floor of Borders on Oxford Street in the Parenting section.
I need to say that again.
We’re on the fourth floor of Borders on Oxford Street in the Parenting section.
Nope. Still sounds ridiculous.
I lean against the bookshelf leafing through a book called Bundle of Joy: 101 Real Stories of Motherhood as if I do this every day, as if I do, actually,
