she told herself as Max helped her over to the basin, where she rinsed out her mouth and washed her face. Or the same virus I had yesterday morning. I couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Mum put that silly thought into my head. And it is silly. I had a period, for pity’s sake.
‘Poor darling,’ Max comforted as he carried her back to bed and placed her still naked body gently inside the sheets. When she started shivering he covered her up with a quilt and tucked it around her. ‘No point taking any tablets if you’re throwing up. I’ll go get you that glass of water. And a cool washer to put on your forehead. That helps sometimes. Take it from one who knows. I’ve had a few dreadful hangovers in my time. Still, you must be extra-susceptible to champagne, because you didn’t have that much. I think I had the major share. And we wasted a bit. On you.’
‘Don’t remind me about that, either,’ she said wretchedly. ‘Could you dispose of that disgusting champagne bottle? I don’t want to look at it.’
‘Come, now, Tara, you loved it last night. All of it,’ he said as he swept the empty bottle off the bedside table and headed for the doorway. ‘But I will tolerate your morning-after sensitivities,’ he tossed over his shoulder, ‘in view of your fragile condition.’
Her fragile condition…
Tara bit her bottom lip as the question over her being sick for a second morning in a row returned to haunt her. Max was right. She hadn’t had that much champagne. Hard to pin her hopes on the gastric virus going around, either. With that, Jen and her kids had been running to use the loo all the time. Then there was her sudden recovery yesterday afternoon and evening, only for her to become nauseous again this morning.
If she hadn’t had a period recently then she would have presumed she was pregnant, as her mother had. Was it possible to have a period and still be pregnant? Tara had read of a few such cases. They weren’t proper periods, just breakthrough bleeding, mostly related to women who’d fallen pregnant whilst on the Pill. Nothing was a hundred per cent safe, except abstinence. Her mother had told her that, too.
‘Oh, God,’ she sobbed, and stuffed a hand into her mouth.
‘That bad, huh?’ Max said as he strode back into the bedroom, carrying a glass of water with some ice in it. ‘Do you want me to ring the house medico? I have one on call here at the weekends.’
‘No! No doctor.’
‘OK, OK,’ Max soothed, coming round to place the glass on the bedside table. ‘No doctor. I’m just trying to help. I don’t like seeing you this sick.’
‘What you don’t like is not having your new little sex slave on tap this morning!’
The horrible words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She saw Max’s head jerk back. Saw the shock in his eyes.
Tara was truly appalled at herself. ‘I’m sorry,’ she cried. ‘I didn’t mean that. Truly. I’m not myself this morning. I’m a terrible person when I’m sick.’ And when I’m petrified I might be pregnant.
The very thought sent her head whirling some more. She didn’t want to be pregnant. Not now. Not when Max had just asked her to travel with him. Not when her life had just become so exciting.
‘It’s all right, Tara. I understand.’
‘No, no, you don’t.’
‘I think I do. What happened yesterday. And last night. It was a case of too much too soon. I became greedy. I should have taken things more slowly with you. You might have enjoyed yourself at the time, but hindsight has a way of bringing doubts and worries. It’s good, in a way, that this morning has given us both a breather. Even if it’s not under pleasant circumstances for you.’
‘You don’t mind?’
His smile was wry. ‘Mind? Of course I mind. I’d love to be making love to you right at this moment. But I’m a patient man. I can wait till next weekend. And next time, I promise I won’t frighten you with my demands.’
‘You…you didn’t frighten me, Max.’
He stared into her eyes. ‘No? Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. I liked everything we did together.’
He let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’m so glad to hear that. I have to confess I was a bit worried that I might have gone too far last night. Not at the time. But when I woke, this morning.’
Not as worried as she was this morning.
Max sat down beside her on the bed and started stroking her head again. ‘Still, I don’t want you to ever think you have to do anything you don’t want to do, Tara. I love you, not just having sex with you. All right?’
She nodded, but tears threatened. Max might say that now, but what if she was pregnant? Would he be so noble when faced with her having his baby? Or would he do and say things which might threaten their relationship for good?
Endless complications flooded into her mind, almost overwhelming her with fear, and feelings of impending doom.
But you don’t know you’re pregnant, she tried telling herself. You could very well be wrong.
Yes, yes, she would cling to that thought. At least till Max left. She couldn’t continue thinking and acting this way or she would surely break down and blurt out what was bothering her. And she really didn’t want to do that. Max had enough things on his mind these days without burdening him with premature news of an unconfirmed pregnancy.
No, she had to pull herself together and stop being such a panic artist. Max had a couple of hours yet before he left for the airport. Surely she could stay calm for that length of time. Why spoil the rest of his stay with negativity and pessimism? What would that achieve? He was being so sweet and understanding this morning. It wasn’t fair to take her secret fears out on him, especially when it was only a guess, and based on nothing but her feeling nauseous two mornings in a row.
Hardly conclusive proof.
‘Max…’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m feeling a bit better now. My stomach is much more settled. Do you think I should try something to eat? Maybe some toast?’
‘I think that would be an excellent idea. Eating is another good cure for a hangover. I’ll have Room Service send some up.’ And he stood up to walk round to the extension that sat on his bedside chest. ‘I’ll order myself a decent breakfast at the same time. Just coffee won’t cut it this morning. Not with airline food beckoning me later today. I need something far more substantial.’
Tara pulled herself up into a sitting position, dragging the sheet up with her over her breasts and tucking it modestly around her. As much as she might have discovered a new abandon when she was turned on, she was still not an exhibitionist.
‘You know, Max,’ she said when he’d finished ordering, ‘you should keep some staple foods in your kitchen. Cereals last for weeks. So does long-life milk and juice. And bread freezes. It’s rather extravagant to order everything you eat from Room Service.’
‘Maybe, but I intend to keep on doing it. I work incredibly long hours and I have no intention of spending my precious leisure time in the kitchen.
