‘What do you think is wrong?’ My voice is even, measured, despite the fact my insides are churning. I’ve been waiting all day to confront him about his not-so-secret appointment.
‘Caitlin giving you a hard time?’
I shake my head slowly. ‘No, actually, this is not about my sister not knowing when to stop interfering.’ I emphasise the word interfering. ‘But even she knows where to draw the line.’
He flinches. He knows I know. Nick turns around to face the window.
I stand there, taking in the broad curves of his shoulders, the dip of his head, the way he lifts one arm and runs a hand through his hair – something he only ever does when he’s stressed. I wait for him to talk. To say something. When he doesn’t, I can’t help myself. ‘I left you a note on the fridge yesterday. You might not have seen it. It was still there this morning. Someone from…’
He’s nodding slowly. ‘Jim Lawrence. Barry.’ He still doesn’t turn around to face me.
I click my fingers. ‘Yep, that’s right. He said you’d have their number.’ My tone is bordering on condescending now, but I can’t help it. I can’t believe Nick has betrayed my trust like this.
‘I’m sorry.’ He flips around to face me and it takes everything to not burst into tears. I trusted him.
‘I’m not ready for you to apologise yet.’
He gives a small nod.
‘At first I thought it might have been a medical negligence issue, because why else would you be calling a law firm? But then, they tell me it’s a family law firm. And I’m left wondering how on earth you could go behind my back like this. How Nick? How do you go and break my trust like this?’
He’s staring at my midsection as if he’s noticing it for the first time. The bulge that could easily be mistaken for an extra serving of Mum’s bucatini – not quite yet an unmistakable baby bump, but nevertheless the first glimpse of a baby bulge, accentuated thanks to my tight-fitting yoga leggings and cotton tee.
An unbearably long silence envelops us. ‘I made an appointment with him,’ Nick starts. ‘With Barry. You’re right. He’s a barrister. A family law barrister.’ His voice is measured, even, a bit too formal for my liking.
‘An appointment for what, exactly?’
‘I went to see Hope last week. I went to ask her if… if there was anything I could do to stop you going ahead with this decision. She gave me some general information and told me I’d need to see a barrister in order to look into taking things further.’
Of course Hope has told me everything, but hearing it from him makes me feel sick, like there’s an undigested meal sitting in the pit of my stomach.
‘Taking things further,’ I repeat. ‘Maybe now it’s all out in the open, you could enlighten me by telling me exactly what you mean by that.’
‘I’m guessing Hope already told you.’
‘She did, but I want to hear it from you so you can listen to yourself, Nick! How are you planning on taking things further?’
Nick bites his lip. ‘This hasn’t been an easy decision.’
I furrow my brow. ‘You met with a barrister to see if you can legally force me to have an abortion. You do realise the law is not on your side here?’
‘I don’t think I have any other choice.’
‘Actually, you do. And it also means your apology is redundant. You’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you’d back off. If you were sorry, you’d have told me before I had the chance to find out on my own.’
‘Paige, please.’ He moves forward, closing the distance between us.
‘Stay there. Do not come any closer,’ I say, holding up a hand. ‘You have no leg to stand on. I know this because I had an appointment at a family law firm today. The same law firm you went to. Only I spoke to Cecelia, and Cecelia is much more confident than Barry.’
‘I—’
‘You need to calm down about all of this. You, Caitlin, my dad – you all need to stop this craziness!’ I cross my arms, and my knees wobble. It takes everything to stand upright. ‘I think it’s better that we have some space.’
I call out for Piper so I can say goodbye to her. She comes hurtling down the hallway into the kitchen.
‘I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight,’ offers Nick.
‘Actually, my overnighter is already in my car. I’m staying at Mum and Dad’s, and you’re not going to fight me on this. I think you’ve overstepped the line already this week, and you need some time to put it into perspective.’ If I can just keep it together until I walk away…
Nick balls his hand into a fist, closes his eyes and shakes his head. ‘For how long?’
My eyes fill with tears at the way he asks this question – he sounds so… defeated. ‘I don’t know.’
Nick runs his hands through his hair. ‘Jesus Christ, I knew it would come to this.’
I turn back to face him and shake my head in bemusement. ‘Then why would you go and involve Barry?’
‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘You asked for it,’ I say.
And as soon as my eyes lock with his, I know it’s not true. Neither of us asked for any of this.
Thirty-Nine
Paige
‘You all knew?’
Within half an hour of my arrival at Mum and Dad’s, we are in the midst of a family meeting, though it’s more like an argument, Hutton style, which means we are having several arguments at once. Mum is brewing tea – chamomile, of course – while Dad sits on the sofa, mostly watching and waiting for his chance to intervene. The only person missing is Ryan.
‘I didn’t know this was what he was going to do,’ says Caitlin, who is perched on the kitchen bench, helping herself to a tub of chocolate ice cream.
‘What does that even mean?’
‘She went and had a word with Nick,’ pipes up Dad. The three of us – me, Mum and Caitlin – flip around to face him. Mum keeps her fingers on the teabag.
‘I’m sorry, what—?’
‘Paige—’ interrupts Caitlin.
I hold a hand up to quieten Caitlin. ‘Dad, what does that mean? She was in on this? Were you in on this, too?’
‘It’s my fault,’ says Dad. ‘I didn’t think Nick would go this far.’
‘What did you expect?’ says Mum, chiming in. ‘Though, to be honest, I don’t think he’ll go through with it. It’s probably just a step he needs to take to sort himself out, know what I mean? No point getting yourself tied up in knots over it.’
‘It’s not your fault, Dad,’ says Caitlin. ‘You didn’t make me go talk to him.’
‘Talk to him about what?’ I say, raising my voice. ‘Would you please tell me what’s going on?’
‘Dad and I discussed things. We both thought Nick should be doing more to convince you to put your life ahead of…’ Her voice fades, like it’s trickling away. I know it’s because she can’t bring herself to say it. Your baby’s.
‘That’s rich, coming from you at twenty-four weeks.’