Something More (Girlfriend Fiction 11) (16 page)

Molly was doubtful. ‘What if they both chicken out?'

‘I promise you, Terry will break the news tomorrow – or I'll kill her.'

She seemed a bit happier with that guarantee and actually smiled at me.

‘But if you can persuade your brother to tell your parents at the same time as us, that would be best.'

‘I'll try. Has your sister said anything about what they'll do next?'

‘They haven't decided.'

‘What do you think?' she asked.

‘I don't know either. I guess a part of me wants the problem to go away, for all our sakes. And there are options out there for that.'

‘Like abortion?' Jack asked.

I'd danced this tango with him at the beach last week, and I didn't want to get back into it.

‘Termination, or adoption – there are options,' I said wearily.

‘Would your parents be okay with that?' Molly cut in.

I shrugged. ‘I honestly can't say. It's weird – I thought I knew my parents so well, but right now…' I tailed off.

‘What about yours, Molly?' Jack asked.

‘They'll kill him.'

‘Well they can't,' I told her. ‘My dad will do that first.'

She grimaced. ‘Truthfully, I think my parents might just go into denial. They're good at that, and it's not as if they're going to be confronted with the reality on a daily basis for another eight months like yours, is it?'

She had a point.

‘Will they want Terry to have a termination?' I suspected I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway.

‘Probably.'

I stiffened. ‘Once my parents get in on the act, Terry will get all the advice she needs to make the best decision –
for her
,' I stressed. Jack took the hint and said nothing.

Molly nodded. Amazing. We'd reached a kind of understanding.

She stood up. ‘Got to go. I'm getting the night off maths, but Dad's checking my physics in ten minutes.'

‘Bummer,' I said.

If Terry kept the baby and Mr Phillips did decide to get involved in its life, he'd need to learn that there's no place for geniuses at our house.

‘See you later, then.' Jack jumped up and gave her a hug. My pulse raced for a second, then calmed: I could see immediately that there was no charged chemistry between them.

‘I knew you two would sort something out once you talked,' he said.

‘Give me your mobile number, Molly, and I'll keep you posted,' I said, feeling generous.

I programmed her details into my phone and she made to leave, but turned back at the last minute.

‘Weird that we could be aunts together.'

‘Bags being the fun aunt,' I retorted.

‘We can both be the fun aunts. We'll just hand it back to Sean and Terry when it gets too much.'

As I watched her disappear into the dark, I wondered what would happen if our parents disagreed with each other. Did Terry's rights take precedence over Sean's? It
was
her body, after all.

They couldn't force her to have a child if she didn't want to, but judging by what Molly had just said, that probably wasn't going to be the problem.

They couldn't force her to abort, either. They might try to make sure Sean didn't see her again, but how successful would that be?

And what if the whole Phillips family abandoned Terry during the pregnancy, then changed their minds later? The end result would be good for the baby, but it would be hard for the rest of us to forgive.

‘That went well.' Jack's voice was loud as he competed with the water.

‘You don't have to sound so surprised; I was hardly going to eat her alive.'

‘Yeah, right. You hated her guts before tonight.'

‘I still do.' But I was having trouble convincing myself of that. ‘Oh, stop looking at me like that. She seems…nice enough, I suppose, when she's not…'

‘Kicking ankles and drowning people?' he teased.

I quickly changed direction. ‘When she's not gatecrashing a date.'

‘Is that what this is?'

‘I reckon, but it's no thanks to you.'

He thought for a second. ‘Guess I should do something about that.'

‘Guess you should.'

‘I think we might finally be having a serious conversation.' And he leant in and kissed me.

It was terrible! I had to pull away in the end, because he was sucking up all my air.

I spluttered, ‘Jack, I'm an oxygen kind of girl. I don't do too well without it.'

‘Sorry,' he mumbled.

‘In Scotland, we like to breathe while we kiss. It's a funny national quirk I suppose, but it does reduce fatalities.'

Motivated to shut me up, he tried again.

He got a big tick this time.

It was getting late, and mist was creeping in from the water. As we made our way back, Jack held my hand. It felt so right to be walking beside him.

I was just thinking how good life was when, before I could stop myself, I lobbed a custard pie at my own head.

‘Jack, your dad's in trouble.'

He stopped dead in his tracks, astonished. ‘What?'

I took a deep breath and told him what I knew, ending with, ‘So they've got info about the mascot job…I'm sorry.'

He dropped my hand and stood motionless. It took him forever to speak, and when he did his voice was flat and unfamiliar.

‘Some people think my dad's been a dickhead pretty much his entire life. He and Mum were never happy.'

‘Why not?'

‘None of your business.'

I felt like he'd slapped me.

‘But I get on okay with him. When I see him, we catch lobster together, we eat crap food, and we watch TV way too late. That might not be a deep and meaningful relationship, but he cares for me in his own way, and I love him.'

I felt so sad.

‘Were you aware that he was my dad when you passed on the footy photos?' He sounded hopeful.

I was tempted to say no, but I didn't. He could see the truth written on every part of my face.

‘But it was before I knew what you'd done with the portrait shots,' I offered lamely.

‘If you had to choose again right now, what would it be?'

‘This is dumb. I can't change what I did.'

‘You'd still help your dad though, wouldn't you?'

I couldn't answer.

‘Exactly. It was your dad or mine. I don't suppose you've been told what happens next?'

I shook my head. ‘I can try to find out if you want.'

‘I think I'll be finding out soon enough, so don't bother. You've done enough damage.'

He made a big thing of checking his watch.

‘It's late. I'm going. I want to spend at least one more night with my old man before they lock him up.'

And he left abruptly, leaving me alone on the corner of my street.

I avoided my family when I got home; I lay in my bedroom, too drained even to cry.

Later, when the house was still, I snuck into the upstairs kitchen for a cup of tea. It didn't make me feel any better. I switched the lights off with the intention of going to bed; but as the darkness enveloped me, the tears came.

‘Isla, what's wrong?' Terry was a silhouette in the doorway, backlit by the hall light.

Seeing her standing there, dishevelled from sleep and with her hand on her tummy, made me cry even harder.

She rushed to my side and led me to the sofa. ‘What's up?

What's happened?' She nudged me softly into her arms and stroked my cheek. ‘Are you sick? Is it me? Is it all my shit?'

I melted into her and managed to regain a little control. ‘No, it's not you, it's me. I've just wrecked everything.' And through more tears, I told her about my day.

‘He really did an exhibition all about you?'

I nodded.

‘Isla, that's so cool.'

‘I know.' I started blubbering again.

‘If you're going to be a couple you have to be honest, so it's probably a good thing you've confessed.'

I disagreed. ‘He was really pissed. He'll dump me for sure now, and I didn't even make it to the end of the first date. He hates me.'

She gave a little snigger.

‘What?'

‘I'm sorry. It's not funny, but I was just thinking – at least he's got lots of photos to vandalise.'

‘Do you reckon he'll give me devil horns and a moustache?' ‘You've already got one of those.'

I made a weak attempt to swipe her with a cushion. She took it from me and placed it gently behind my head. ‘Think of this now as the worst it can be, and you might be surprised later. It could improve from here.'

They were my words. My advice to her.

‘That sounds familiar,' I said, my voice squeaking.

‘My best friend said it to me recently,' she said.

I was stunned. ‘Terry, I—'

‘And I said to her, “Hey, what a coincidence, Isla said the same thing the other day.”' She grinned.

‘Very funny.'

‘See, if you can still laugh, it's not the end of the world. He'll get over it.'

‘And if he doesn't?'

‘What's for you won't go by you,' she said, then her eyes widened in horror. ‘
Oh. My. God!
Did I just quote Gran?' She put her hands around her own throat and pretended to strangle herself. We giggled in the semi-darkness for ages. When I finally got back to my room, I didn't feel quite so alone.

‘Isla, never stand directly
behind a person who's taking
a bull by the horns!'

(Gran McGonnigle)

School was awful the next day. Both Jack and Sam kept their distance. I guess Sam had got the message about me and Jack after the exhibition. I tried to catch up with Jack a few times, but he always managed to get away.

I spotted him deep in conversation with Molly at lunch but didn't feel I could interrupt.

What was he telling her?

I bumped into her in the corridor during period five. I'd been sent to the office for some extra calculators, and she must have asked to go to the toilet and followed me.

‘Pssst!'

I turned around to see her beckoning me into a stairwell.

‘I have to get these calculators back,' I said.

She grabbed my arm. ‘I know about Jack's dad.'

I braced myself for the abuse. ‘Shall I just save you the trouble and kick my own ankle this time?' I challenged.

She blushed. ‘Sorry about that. I was just totally freaking out then.'

I supposed I could relate to that.

‘Jack really likes you, but he's cut about his dad. I tried to get him to see your side.'

‘He's so mad at me.'

‘Just give him some time. He's worth the wait.'

It felt weird to be talking about my love life with Molly. I changed the subject. ‘Make sure Sean tells your parents about the baby tonight, okay?'

A cloud descended on her perfect features. ‘I will, I promise.'

‘Good luck,' I said, and I made the move to leave.

Later, I caught the train home with Terry. Just before we reached Coledale station, she took her earphones out and said, ‘This is going to be so bad tonight, Isla.'

I struggled to offer some words of comfort and failed.

‘Let's just definitely do it at nine. You'll probably feel much better once they know and it's over and done with.'

She nodded, her mouth a grim line of determination.

Our parents were at the kitchen table when we got home, but they were so engrossed in recounts of each other's day that they didn't pay us much attention. Mum did insist on dishing us both some leftover lasagne while she listened to Dad, though. Terry and I pottered around trying to act normal until we could escape.

‘I'll come and get you when it's time,' she said from her doorway.

‘Are you going to eat that?' I asked, nodding at her food. I added it to my plate when she said no.

‘You've got to eat,' I said, secretly hoping she wouldn't change her mind. I was starving. Some people, like Terry, go to pieces under stress; they lose weight and can't sleep for nights on end. I, however, eat like a pig and still drop off instantly. Gran says I could sleep on the edge of a pin.

Who'd want to do that? My bed was much more comfortable, and after I'd eaten I curled up on top of it with a book. When my eyes got heavy, I closed them for a second. They sprang open two hours later. It was eight-thirty.

At the thought of going down to Mum and Dad, an octopus of dread squeezed all the breath from me. The harder I struggled to free myself, the tighter it took hold.

My family was about to weather a massive storm, which could leave us all totally drenched. Right now I needed something safe and familiar, and it panicked me to realise that, for the first time ever, I wouldn't necessarily find it with the people I'd always relied on.

The urge to talk to Brian was suddenly overwhelming. I needed him here, listening intently the way he used to: never interrupting; offering his opinion with a wry smile; and taking no offence when I didn't like what he had to say.

I was astonished to discover something I had never quite grasped before: being his girlfriend had been a bonus. His friendship was more important, and I'd rejected it because I could no longer have it on my terms.

Accepting reality takes courage. I hadn't been brave enough. Terry had been, though, and I prayed my parents would be, too.

I began to consider what would happen if I swallowed my pride and contacted Brian. It might be too late, but I wouldn't find out if I didn't try.

I booted up my computer and opened my email program.

Dear Brian.

No, too formal.

Hi Brian.

No, too casual.

Brian, I was wrong. (Yeah, yeah, I can admit it sometimes.)

He'd laugh at that for sure.