out and put to the back of her mind anymore, because that’s what she’d been doing. For a very long time. And she’d been able to do that purely because there’d been no need to confront it, no need to even think about it. Until now.
‘When I was young, very young – I think I was about seven or eight when it happened – my appendix ruptured. It was pretty serious, apparently, although I don’t remember all that much about it. But, according to my dad, it was serious. Anyway, the upshot of all this was, because of the ruptured appendix and the subsequent peritonitis…’ She stared down at her wedding ring again, twisting it round and round her finger. ‘My fallopian tubes are scarred to hell, Debbie. At the time, the doctors told my mum and dad that I may have trouble conceiving when I was older and they never hid the truth from me so… so I’ve always known there’s a chance that… that it may not be all that easy, but… I’ve got to cling onto hope, haven’t I? I never really gave it much thought before because I’d always resigned myself to the fact that I was never going to be a mum. I didn’t think I’d ever find the right man anyway, that one man who could… who…’ She felt tears start to prick the back of her eyes and she rummaged round in her bag for a handkerchief, desperate not to cry. She didn’t want to start crying. Jesus, this was so wrong! Amber Sullivan hadn’t wanted kids. Amber Sullivan hadn’t felt these ridiculous feelings; this sudden, aching need. But Amber Allen did. ‘But then he came back. Jim. He came back.’ She looked at Debbie, whose face was now a mask of genuine concern, which only made Amber’s tears fall faster. ‘And everything changed, Debbie. Everything.’
Debbie jumped up and sat down next to Amber, taking her hand and squeezing it tight. ‘You don’t know anything for definite though, do you?’
Amber looked at her. ‘I know the worst case scenario.’
‘But that might not be the case for you, chick. Have you seen a doctor?’
Amber shook her head. ‘I’m scared, Debbie. I’m scared of what they’re gonna tell me, of having to face up to something I thought I’d be able to handle, but now I’m not so sure that I can.’
Debbie got up and went over to retrieve her handbag, sitting back down next to Amber as she started scrolling down the contact list on her phone. ‘I’ll get you an appointment sorted with an amazing specialist I know. He runs a private fertility clinic in Jesmond.’
Amber frowned. ‘A fertility clinic? How do you…?’
Debbie looked at her. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ve never actually needed his services. I’ve got enough on my plate looking after Gary. He’s a big enough kid. But Dr. Lowry, he’s a very good friend of my plastic surgeon who told me that if I ever needed advice in that department then Dr. Lowry was my man. I met him at a party once. We got on really well. He’s a real looker, too, I have to say; very Pierce Brosnan, but don’t let that intimidate you… There it is! I knew I had his number.’
Amber felt her head suddenly start to spin. Things had started moving way too fast again. Shouldn’t she talk to Jim first? Before she did anything? Shouldn’t she tell him everything she’d just told Debbie? Didn’t he have a right to know?
‘Debbie, I… I’m not sure about…’
Debbie threw her a stern yet sympathetic expression. ‘So what are you going to do, Amber? Sit and stress about everything? Is that the best plan of action? Surely you need to know what you’re dealing with, chick. Then we can move forward.’
‘But what if…’ Amber swallowed hard, finally realising that she did have to face up to this, sooner or later. If having a baby was what she really wanted. And it was. It really was. ‘What if it’s bad news, Debbie? What if… if I can’t…’
‘Hey, now, come on.’ Debbie’s tone was sympathetically scolding as she took Amber’s hand again. ‘Let’s promise ourselves that we won’t think that way, okay? Let’s just wait and see what Dr. Lowry has to say.’
Amber swallowed again, suddenly feeling as though she’d been thrust into some kind of alien situation that just didn’t seem real. She couldn’t relax as she watched Debbie get up and walk over to a quieter corner of the bar to make the call; a million things had started running through her head and none of them made any sense. Sometimes she wished things could go back to the way they’d been a year ago, when her life had been uncomplicated, well ordered, and she’d been in complete control of everything. But a year ago Jim hadn’t been around. A year ago her life still hadn’t been complete, no matter how well organised and controlled it might have been. So, if having Jim meant that she had to live with this chaos and lack of control, then she’d take that. Every time.
She looked up as Debbie came back over, her heart beating ten to the dozen. ‘How soon before he can fit me in?’
‘How soon?’ Debbie asked, sliding her phone back into her handbag. ‘Grab your things, chick. We’re going over there right now.’
‘You’re a natural, do you know that?’ Ronnie said, leaning back against the edge of the desk. It was coming up to a quarter-past eleven in the evening and they’d just finished a six-hour stint in front of the cameras, scrutinising the twists and turns of the summer transfer market so far, and with just a couple of weeks until the window closed, it was shaping up to be an exciting time. There’d been some interesting moves happening, some surprise transfers, and some exciting rumours. It brought back so many memories for Amber as she remembered last August, when all the rumours flying around back then had concerned Ryan Fisher’s move from a top London club to Newcastle Red Star, a move that had signalled the start of a life-changing journey for both of them. A journey she’d never forget.
She’d co-hosted the live broadcast alongside Cloud Sports’ popular and extremely likeable football anchorman, Steve Summers, who’d gone out of his way since Amber had started working at the channel to make her feel one of the team. Ronnie had been there as part of a panel of pundits made up of ex-footballers and managers, past and present, there to assess every move that was being made as players changed hands – and clubs – for copious amounts of money. Speculation about how the coming season could now go had begun in earnest, and Amber loved being a part of it all. She’d forgotten how exciting it could be, being right there in the thick of things.
She loved her new job, even if did take her away from Jim, and her beloved North East England, for short periods of time. But to make sure that she still felt at home even when she wasn’t at home, she and Jim had bought a small but comfortable semi- detached house not far from the £200 million pound purpose-built Cloud Television studio complex that was Amber’s new workplace. If she had to be away from where she would always consider home to be, then she at least wanted a place to stay that was theirs. Somewhere that felt like home.
But what made up for the fact that she’d be spending long periods of time away from the North East was the excitement of live TV. It was something she loved, something that gave her such an adrenalin rush. She’d spent years working in regional television so she wasn’t exactly a novice in that department, but this was a whole different ball game, what she was doing now. But it was where she belonged, where she felt comfortable, and, of course, it meant she continued to be surrounded by people who felt as strongly about the beautiful game as she did.
It also meant she was being kept extremely busy, and, right now, she wanted to be busy. The past couple of days had allowed her mind to focus on other things, and that was exactly what she’d needed.
