would be the point in getting her all cross again, after all? Because the following morning (they’d said their goodbyes that night) he’d been sent to Armley Prison, as promised. And Gurdy had since reported (Gurdy had been at the magistrates’ court, giving evidence) that he was expected to serve nine of the eighteen-month sentence he’d been given.
Nine whole months. The time it took to make a baby. Which was apparently already growing inside her. Vicky wiped the stick with some loo roll and shoved it in her handbag.
She felt sick. Though she now had a reason for all that. But most of all, heady, intoxicated, strangely brave.
Now she would have to tell Lucy. It felt like a relief.
There was a client already in and having a hood dryer lowered over her rollers when Vicky flew in. Leanne looked across, her expression first one of predictable irritability – Vicky was rarely late, but with only the two of them in the salon today, Leanne was obviously cross.
Her expression changed though, seeing Vicky’s flushed cheeks and addled expression. ‘You alright, love?’ she asked. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m so sorry, Lee,’ she said, yanking off her jacket and hanging it on the hook. ‘I’ll make it up, I promise. I’ll work through my lunch.’
Leanne gave her client, one of their elderly regulars, a copy of The Lady to read while she waited for her curls to set. ‘And I’ll bring you a cuppa and a custard cream,’ she shouted to her, over the noise of the hood. She then nodded at Vicky. ‘Come on, you,’ she said, heading towards the back room. ‘You’re looking terrible. You sure you don’t want me to give the boss a ring? Sure he can get one of the Saturday girls to come in and help me if you want to go home again.’
Leanne’s kindness made Vicky feel tearful. Was that how it was going to be now? Because that was what pregnancy hormones did to you, wasn’t it? Made you emotional and faint, made your boobs hurt, made you nauseous, made you burst into tears for no reason. God, how she needed to tell someone. But it should be Paddy first, surely? He had the right to know first, didn’t he? Then Lucy, no question. But she was just so full up with it all.
Full to bursting. She shook her head. ‘I’m okay,’ she said, ‘Just been a rush today. Better after a coffee though.’ She added a third mug to the two Leanne had already put out.
‘You don’t look okay,’ Leanne said, scrutinising her minutely. ‘You sure you’re not going down with something?’ She put a hand to Vicky’s forehead. ‘Are you feeling hot?’
It was such a sweetly maternal thing to do – not that she’d ever had much of that – that tears instantly welled in Vicky’s eyes.
‘Hey, Vic, what? What is it?’ Leanne said, putting both arms around her. ‘What’s happened?’
Vicky couldn’t stop herself. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she whispered.
‘You’re what?’ Leanne let her go and inspected her again. Then pulled her close again. ‘Oh, shit, Vic. Bloody hell. No wonder you look like you’ve seen a bloody ghost!’
She let her go again. ‘You just found out? Jesus – how far are you gone? Does Paddy know?’
‘He has no idea. I’ve literally only just done the test.’ She reached for her bag and pulled the stick out. ‘That’s why I was late.’
‘Shit,’ Leanne said again, perching on one of the chairs. ‘Christ, Vic.’ She frowned. ‘Christ, what will your mam say?’
Vicky didn’t give a shit what her mam might have to say. That maternal boat had long since sailed. She said so.
‘But what about Paddy?’ Leanne said. ‘I mean, are you even going to tell him? I mean, under the circumstances …’ She stood up again, to fill the kettle. ‘I mean, have you even decided what you’re going to do?’
Vicky was confused. ‘What do you mean, what I’m going to do? Do about what?’
Leanne blinked at her. ‘Well, you aren’t thinking about keeping it, are you? Shit, you are, aren’t you?’ she said, presumably reading Vicky’s expression. ‘Fuck’s sake, Vic – really? God, you’re too young! Seriously,’ she added, ‘you have to think about this, Vicky. Who knows where you’ll be … what you’ll be doing … who you’ll be with … It’s odds-on you won’t be with Paddy, that’s for sure. And what then?’ She spread her hands. ‘Who’ll want you with a kid as part of the package?’
Vicky was more stunned than she’d been when the blue line had begun appearing against the white. The thought of getting rid of it had never even occurred to her. Should it have? No. She couldn’t even countenance such a thing. ‘Of course I’m going to keep it,’ she said. ‘I’m a Catholic, for one thing. And for another, it’s Paddy’s, and as far as I’m concerned, we are going to be together. Why wouldn’t we be? Christ, Leanne, I’d never abort his baby!’
Leanne shook her head, then sighed. Then patted her arm. ‘Alright, calm down.’
‘I am calm.’
‘And, look, I didn’t mean anything by it – just, well, you know, I didn’t realise you felt like that, honest I didn’t. I mean, you know, what with him going to prison and that. D’you think he’ll feel the same though? D’you think he’ll actually want the baby?’
Which was a question Vicky hadn’t even allowed herself to think about. She stuck her chin out. ‘Of course he will,’ she said.
Vicky wished she’d had the foresight to get some travel sickness pills. The journey from Bradford Interchange to Leeds wasn’t only interminable, it was like sitting on the axle of a go-kart, as the bus wheezed and strained its way to Leeds. Not that it was hilly, or particularly windy – just stop-start, stop-start, in the endless traffic. The thought of doing this every fortnight weighed heavily.
And she wouldn’t even be there when it reached its destination, either. She still had to find a taxi to take her the rest of the way to the prison.
‘Best way,’ Gurdy had told her. ‘Or you’ll be faffing about with another load of buses. And it won’t cost you much. It’s only a couple of miles or so from there.’
He’d spoken with great authority – authority he really didn’t have. Or, at least, shouldn’t have. Since when did Gurdy know all about this stuff? Vicky knew he’d asked around for her – he’d said as much, sweetly. He’d been so anxious to help her out – had even offered to go with her, even though she knew that, at least this time, she must go alone. But it niggled at her that dear, sweet, good Gurdy seemed to have such ready access to the sort of information she required.
It sometimes felt, lately, that she was being sucked into a world she wanted no part of. Or, rather, catapulted – headlong. It had all happened so quickly. It was one thing to turn a blind eye to whatever ‘business’ Paddy got up to (something – as Lucy had always been quick to point out – that she’d been managing to do nicely these past couple of years), but here she was, on a bus bound for another, distant city – a city which
