Least Said (50 page)

I
felt
as
if
my
heart
had
been
torn
out
of
my
chest
and
stamped
on.
The
pain
was
so
bad
that
I
actually
felt
physically
ill.
In
that
moment
I
was
quite
sure
I
would
do
anything
to
become
pregnant
myself
–
yes,
up
to
and
including,
finding
the
man
who
had
impregnated
me
before
and
using
him
again
as
a
sperm
donor.
I
immediately
felt
deeply
ashamed
and
hated
myself
for
entertaining
such
treacherous
thoughts.

After
making
all
the
appropriate
noises
for
the
appropriate
length
of
time,
I
drove
home
so
erratically
that
it
was
a
wonder
I
didn’t
crash
the
car.
I
was
aware
of
nothing
but
the
pain
in
my
heart
and
the
lack
in
my
life.
I
also
knew
I
was
being
absolutely
wicked,
because
I
did
already
have
William.
I
had
always
despised
women
who
behaved
the
way
I
was
behaving
just
because
they
couldn’t
have
another
baby,
but
at
that
moment
I
just
couldn’t
help
myself.

I
fell
through
the
door,
and
prostrating
myself
in
the
middle
of
the
hall,
I
howled
my
frustration
out
at
the
top
of
my
voice.
I
was
angry,
furious,
desperately
wanting
to
vent
my
spleen
on
inanimate
objects,
to
smash,
to
tear
and
destroy
until
nothing
was
left.

It
wasn’t
fair,
I
sobbed.
It
just
wasn’t
fair.
I
honestly
didn’t
begrudge
Jade
her
pregnancy
–
well,
that
was
actually
a
lie
because
I
did.
She
had,
after
all,
nothing
to
prove
to
herself
or
anyone
else.
She
lived
her
cosy,
happy
little
life
and
one
child
more
or
less
made
absolutely
no
difference
to
her.
One
child
for
me
right
now
would
change
everything
and
set
my
life
back
on
an
even
keel
once
more.
A
baby
would
give
me
the
peace
of
mind
I
craved
and
allow
me
to
leave
the
mistakes
of
the
past
where
they
belonged.

I
lay
there
until
I
had
no
more
tears
left
to
cry
and
then
I
rose
very
slowly
to
my
feet.
I
couldn’t
go
into
my
work
room, despite
the
orders
waiting
for
my
attention
there, because
I
couldn’t
trust
myself
to
be
among
all
those
cakes
in
various
stages
of
delicate
construction
without
trashing
them.
I
seemed
to
recall
a
very
pretty
Christening
cake
that
was
all
but
finished
and
knew
seeing
it
would
be
enough
to
tip
me
over
the
edge
again.

In
the
end
I
sat
myself
in
the
lounge
in
front
of
a
TV
recording
of
One Born Every Minute
and
dredged
more
tears
from
somewhere
to
shed
over
each
new
birth.
That
was
where
Jon
found
me
when
he
popped
home
for
the
sandwiches
he’d
forgotten
to
take
with
him
that
morning.

He
came
and
stood
in
front
of
me.
‘You’ve
got
your
period?’
he
hazarded
a
guess
that
might
account
for
the
sodden
mess
I
had
turned
into
in
just
a
few
short
hours.

I
sniffed
loudly,
shook
my
head,
and
wept,
‘Jade’s
pregnant
.’

‘Oh,
love,’
he
sat
down
beside
me
and
gathered
me
into
his
arms,
he
smelled
of
fresh
air
and
faint
traces
of
the
aftershave
he
favoured.
‘I
am
so
sorry,
sweetheart.’

‘You
don’t
have
anything
to
be
sorry
for,’
I
told
him,
but
in
my
heart
I
believed
that
he
did.
He
couldn’t
make
me
pregnant
and
that’s
what
had
started
the
whole
sorry
business
seven
years
ago.

‘There’s
still
time
for
us
–
and,
you
know,
we
are
doing
pretty
much
everything
we
can.’

He
was
trying
to
be
encouraging
but
it
really
wasn’t
working
and
life
was
becoming
more
and
more
like
being
on
a
roller
coaster
–
hitting
the
heights
when
I
managed
to
convince
myself
that
anything
was
possible,
and
plumbing
the
depths
when
I
realised
that
nothing
was.
At
that
moment
I
was
more
down
that
I
had
ever
been, and
that
made
me
want
to
hit
out.

‘I
want
a
baby,
Jon.
I
want
a
baby
now
.’
I
heard
the
words
leave
my
mouth,
heard
the
tone
I’d
used
and
I
was
horrified
with
myself,
but
now
it
was
out
I
felt
only
relief.