It took an enormous effort to straighten, supporting the laden tray, and turn towards the kitchen. As she did her gaze turned to the pair who’d been speaking. Both were young and healthy-looking. Both smiling. One had a baby on her knee and the other was so pregnant it was a wonder she managed to fit in the alcove seat.
A tremor racked Alice and she almost dropped the tray.
Pregnancy!
That was what they were talking about?
But Alice couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.
He’d used a condom!
Of course she wasn’t pregnant. She was only twenty-three. She was just starting to live life for herself. She had no plans for a baby.
It was just coincidence.
A strange, scary coincidence.
But as the morning wore on Alice became more and more conscious of the way her breasts tingled whenever her arm pressed in as she reached for something. She found herself avoiding the coffee machine as much as possible.
By her break, despite some stern self-talk about not leaping to conclusions, Alice found herself in a pharmacy, handing over hard-earned cash for a pregnancy kit.
It couldn’t be. Of course it couldn’t be.
But it was.
Alice stood in the cramped staff washroom and stared at the indicator that told her she was pregnant.
She didn’t slump against the counter. She didn’t squeal with excitement or cry. She didn’t do anything but stare as the implications worked their way into her brain.
She’d experienced so many life-changing events. Alice had learned railing against fate or trying to avoid reality didn’t work.
Her mother had died in a car crash when Alice was twelve. Her father’s injuries in the same smash left him in a wheelchair, needing constant support until he’d died of complications when she was seventeen. At least her godfather, David, had given them a roof over their heads when their money dried up and the house had to go. Then David, as close as family, had been diagnosed with a terminal condition. Alice had been the one to look after him through the prolonged illness till last year when—
Alice shook her head. At least, for a change, the latest crisis in her life wasn’t about death, but about life. Maybe when she got her head around it she’d even be happy.
She stared into the mirror at the wan-faced young woman whose eyes seemed too big for her face.
Fear stirred.
Fear of the unknown. She knew nothing about babies!
Fear about how she’d support a child when she could barely support herself.
And, yes, a blinding moment of frustration and self-pity. Because, as she’d lost the people she loved, she could find only one positive—that now she could begin experiencing those things her peers took for granted. Parties and carefree weekends. Dating. Starting a career. Going to art school, if she could scrape enough money to support herself.
Now art school would be on hold again, perhaps permanently. She’d have to find a way to support her child, plus a career that earned well and had family-friendly hours.
Alice’s mouth twisted at the impossibility of it all.
She grabbed at the counter as another thought struck and her knees gave way.
She’d have to tell him. Adoni Petrakis.
For, she realised, she was having this baby. She didn’t know anything about babies but she was sure she didn’t want a termination.
That was one thing sorted at least.
She tried to smile at her reflection and failed. For she cringed at the idea of confronting Adoni. They were from different worlds. It was a miracle they’d ended up in bed together. He was rich, sophisticated and urbane. She was ordinary and embarrassingly inexperienced. More, she’d been downright gauche that night.
The memory always left her torn between horror at what she’d done and a wish that it had never ended. She could get used to a handsome, sexy man with a sense of humour and an appreciative glint in his eyes. A man who was kind and generous and awakened all sorts of unfamiliar desires.
Just as well she’d peeked into his wallet to check his surname. At the time shame had pushed her to spy because in her alcoholic haze she’d forgotten his last name. She’d been determined to know the full name of the man she’d given her virginity to.
Her crooked smile became a rictus grin, her cheeks aching at the pull of taut flesh.
At least she had a name to put on the birth certificate!
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