‘And maybe you’ll feel clearer about things after a good night’s sleep. You know where I am if you want to talk.’
‘Could be a plan. How about The Chocolate Pot at some point tomorrow afternoon, providing I haven’t been sick again? I might need a sounding board to make sense of things.’
‘What about Curtis? Won’t he still be here?’
I shook my head. ‘He’s got something on so he’s booked on the nine-forty to York.’
Sarah smiled. ‘I’ve got no plans so I’m happy to help. I may even bring my Post-it notes. People laugh, but they’re really helpful.’
I smiled as I reached to open the door. Sarah had made a couple of major life decisions using Post-it notes and I have to say that they were two of the best decisions she’d ever made. Perhaps there was a method in her madness. ‘You know what, that might actually be a good idea.’
28
Curtis was surprisingly compliant when I told him I wanted to call it a night. I didn’t even have to plead illness; he accepted the suggestion immediately, saying that he had a headache and could do with an early night himself. He also apologised if he’d taken things too far. Curtis never apologised. He’d done some pretty bad things over the years like abandoning me when he’d pulled, spiking my drinks to the point where I lost use of my legs and he had to call Gary to my aid, and making me spend the night in a neighbour’s shed after he lost his keys in a club in Glasgow. He’d always laughed and called it ‘an adventure’ rather than actually saying sorry, so this was unchartered territory. I decided to accept his apology with good grace and not have a go at him, especially as I suspected Sarah might have already done that before she found me in the toilets, judging by the dark looks they’d exchanged when we said goodnight. Good for her!
As I finished removing my make-up back at Seashell Cottage, Curtis knocked on the bathroom door. ‘I know I came with luggage this time, but I’ve forgotten my toothbrush. Can I borrow yours? I promise I have no dodgy mouth infections.’
‘I can do one better than that. I’ve got a spare. I’ll leave it out for you.’
I opened the under-sink cabinet. Kay had cleared a shelf so I could store my spare make-up and toiletries. ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ I muttered as I rummaged around at the back of the cabinet, trying to put my hand on the toothbrush. ‘Ah, got you!’ As I closed my hand around the toothbrush, I knocked a bottle of shower gel and a box of tampons out of the cupboard. Tutting, I picked up the gel and put it back, then picked up the tampons… and my stomach lurched.
Heart racing, I sat down heavily on the toilet seat. Relax and think. I’d started my period the day I moved in with Kay. I was near the end of my next cycle when I’d tried on the bridesmaid dress for Sarah’s wedding because I could remember Clare joking about my big black knickers showing through the material. What date was that? I shook my head. Mid-July? And now it was the middle of September. I flashed back to Callie in the toilets at Minty’s asking me if I was pregnant. No. The sickness was that gastric flu sticking around and the skipped period was simply the stress of splitting up with Gary and selling the house. I had form with that. The situation with Mother had wreaked havoc with my periods but, within months of leaving home, I’d settled into a regular cycle. I’d skipped periods since then at times of heightened stress such as applying for my departmental headship and a couple of particularly problematic school plays.
I jumped up and tossed the tampons back in the cupboard, shaking my head. ‘Not pregnant. Just stressed,’ I muttered. ‘Very stressed.’
It was raining the following morning so I drove Curtis to the train station rather than walking.
‘You’re very quiet this morning,’ he said as we waited at some lights.
‘Am I? Sorry.’
‘You’re not still mad at me for last night?’
I gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Consider it forgotten. I just have a lot on my mind at the moment.’
He nodded. ‘Aye. I get that. You know where I am if you want to offload.’
‘Thanks, Curtis. You’re a good friend.’
After I dropped him off, I drove to a nearby supermarket to get something for dinner. Wandering aimlessly with a basket hooked over my arm, I found myself in the health and beauty section, staring at the pregnancy tests on the shelf in front of me. What the heck. I was certain I wasn’t pregnant but, for a tenner, I could confirm for sure. I grabbed a single test and hid it under a bag of grapes.
I paid for my shopping, then nipped to the toilets. No time like the present.
Staring at the testing kit in my hand moments later, I took a few deep, calming breaths. Not stress, then. And not gastric flu either.
I drove to the car park at Lighthouse Cove and switched off my engine as I stared across the road towards the sea. Rain battered my windscreen with increasing ferocity and the waves ahead of me seemed to leap in protest at the addition of more water. It seemed apt that the waves were in turmoil – a fitting metaphor for my life.
A beeping from my phone disturbed my trance.
✉︎ From Curtis
Sorry again about last night’s game. Maybe it is time I grew up a bit. Been single too long. Makes me tamper in other people’s relationships, oblivious to their feelings. For what it’s worth, they both seem like great wee fellas. But remember you don’t have to pick either if they’re not right or you’re not ready for a relationship! Hope to see you soon, Red. Any time you fancy a trip to Glasgow and the best haircut you’ve ever had, give me a shout ((((hugs))))
‘Not ready for a relationship?’ I muttered. ‘Oh Curtis, you have no idea!’ I placed my phone back into my handbag, beside the box containing the positive pregnancy test, and stared out at the wild sea again.
✉︎ From Unknown
Hi Elise, it’s Michael. Hope you don’t mind, but I made Daniel give me your number. Just wanted to drop you a quick text to say I hope you’re OK. You didn’t look well when you left last night. Hope you managed to get a good night’s sleep and feel better for it this morning. I know I probably should ring to do this, but you might be having a lie-in and I don’t like to disturb you… would you like to go out for a drink with me one night next week? Hope to hear from you soon. Michael x
✉︎ From Stevie
Morning. How are you feeling? Was really worried about you last night. Sarah says you’ve still got that gastric flu. Can you face a visitor this afternoon or this evening? Would love to see you if possible xxx
I leaned back in the car seat and flicked between the two text messages. Michael was definitely asking for a date, but was Stevie? Hard to tell. Stevie and I knew each other better so perhaps it was just the more informal approach of his text. I could easily put Stevie off a visit today by citing illness, but how would I tell Michael I couldn’t see him at any point next week? And, speaking of not seeing people, I couldn’t meet up with Sarah this afternoon. I needed some alone time to get my head around things:
✉︎ To Sarah
Hope you had a brilliant evening. Sorry again for bailing early. And another apology… can we take a rain-check on Operation Post-it Notes today? I’m feeling a bit rough so think a duvet day’s in order. I’ll see you after school as usual on Wednesday. Spend the day with that gorgeous man of yours instead. That’s an order! xx