The Art of Keeping Faith (36 page)

I sat on the toilet and threw up on the floor. It was the best choice.

“Pritchard sent you some work,” Richard tells me. I just give a groan in response. Bloody Pilchard can shove his work up his arse.

We sit in silence for a few minutes longer.

“I’m sorry you are sick, Lilah. Can I get you anything?”

“No, but thank you for offering. I think I just need to try to sleep.”

Sleep is my friend. It is the only time I don’t want to be violently ill.

Richard pats my leg again. “Okay, Lilah, I’ll check on you soon, okay?”

“Nah, it’s cool I’ll be much better soon,” I assure him.

Except I am not.

25th March

Sick.

26th March

More sick.

27th March

Hold on a minute!

Nope.

Still sick.

28th March

“Lilah, we are going to the doctors. Where can I find you clean clothes?”

“Meredith, we have been through this. It’s fine.”

“No, Lilah, it’s not. I am bloody worried about you. I am taking you to the doctors otherwise Tristan is going to call Ben and make him come home so he can sort you out.”

I struggle up onto one elbow. The vertigo hits straight away.

“No! Don’t do that. I will go to the doctors.”

“So pleased you are seeing sense!”

Cow.

The Doctors of Truth

Chairman Mao. Sorry, Doctor Mao is staring at the screen reading my notes.

“And how long did you say you have been having this sickness?”

“Two weeks or so?” I offer.

It is killing me to be upright, a fact I tried to explain to the doctor but I ended up demonstrating by being sick in one of those cardboard kidney shaped bowls.

“Two weeks, and you are only coming to see us now?”

“Well, yes.”

“And you can’t think of a reason why you might be this ill, no meal that it has followed, or any sickness bug that your flat mates have picked up?”

“No.”

This is actually strange. If I am this ill then why hasn’t Meredith or Tristan caught it yet? Or Beth and Jayne, they have been visiting. Well they have been sitting in the lounge and drinking wine occasionally poking their heads through the door to check on me.

“And your last period was when?”

What a bloody ridiculous question. I don’t have time for stupidity like this. I’m about to die.

“Oh I don’t know, a few weeks back?”

“How many weeks exactly?” he prompts further.

I think. When was my last period?

Oh I remember now, Gladiator day. I was trying to use my period pain as an excuse to get out of watching the film.

“Can I ask my friend? She is just outside.”

Chairman Mao. Sorry, Doctor Mao looks most bemused. “Be my guest.” He waves his hand.

I stand up ignoring the wave of dizziness that hits me and open the door. “Mer, come here,” I call at her in the waiting room.

She gives me a quizzical look but walks into the consulting room.

“When did we watch
Gladiator
?” I ask with no explanation.

“Last week of Jan,” she assures me.

I turn to the doctor who is staring at the screen some more. “See I told you a few weeks ago.”

He looks at me, peering over his glasses. “It’s the end of March.”

“So?”

“Oh!” exclaims Meredith just as his suggestions clicks in my brain.

“No! No way. Absolutely not. My boyfriend lives in America.”

“And you last saw him?”

“Valentine’s Day,” my words are nothing more than a whisper.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a plastic pot.

“Pee in this and then bring it back in, although my mind is made up and I am never ever wrong.”

I take the pot and walk to the door.

“Be prepared to be surprised,” I tell him with a tone of superiority.

Five minutes later

Holy shit balls.

One hour later

Fuck.

It seems he is never wrong.

Eight weeks.

I am eight weeks pregnant.

If I look at that line enough I may start to believe it.

Oh, crap. I am going to be sick again.

29th March

I have tried to call the doctor. I just want to check. You know make sure that he was 100 percent sure that I am most definitely having a baby.

The surgery was closed. Bloody inconvenient for them not to be open on a Saturday. Don’t they know that there are some people out there that struggle to process large life changing chunks of information. I.E. “Yes, it is just as I thought, Lilah you are pregnant, about eight weeks I would guess.”

Yep, some people have trouble dealing with news like that.

I AM ONE OF THEM.

I’m in a state of panic, which is not being made any better by the fact that, a) I cannot speak to a health professional, and b) I have already thrown up six times this morning and it is only ten.

Meredith sat with me the whole of last night and rubbed my back as I was quite spectacularly sick. I don’t think it was morning sickness which is what I am apparently suffering from, but more a case of being in complete and utter shock.

At about seven o’clock I had a moment of clarity when I sat bolt upright and said something along the lines of, “Oh my God, what about all the Budweiser and wine?” This was closely followed by. “Oh, my God, what about the vodka and cigarettes?”

Meredith just laughed and picked up my hand in hers. “Lilah, it’s okay, that was all weeks ago, you’ll be fine.”

Then I said something I may never forgive myself for. “But you weren’t.”

The moment the words were out of my mouth I wanted to take them back.

She thought about it for a moment before leaning forward and grabbing me in a hug. “That was me. You are you, and some things are just meant to be.”

We both started to cry and then I was sick again.

Funnily enough I’m not going to work today. I’m just going to stare at the ceiling, try and keep my head still and wonder just what the hell I am going to do.

April

1st April

What the hell am I going to do?

I am a University student for God’s sake and not a particularly good one. Ben is away doing his mega tour, I can’t even get hold of him. I tried to call him last night but there was no answer. I want to tell him the news but I am scared. Scared he is going to be cross. Scared that he’s going to want to come back and leave the band in the lurch. Scared that he is going to give up on all of his dreams just because of me, just because I was stupid and made a mistake.

It was a mistake. I have been lying here looking at patterns in the paint work on the ceiling and wondering just what happened on Valentine’s Day. Clearly Ben and I did not use any protection at all, and now I think back I am not sure when we last did.

I haven’t been on the pill for a year, not since the last time I forgot to take it and ended up thinking I may be pregnant.

It seems that some lessons can only be learnt the hard way.

Since then, after we’d had an embarrassing conversation regarding the fact that I can’t really be trusted with sole responsibility of child prevention, we have been sharing the duty.

Except Valentine’s. When it slipped both our minds and I have been slipped a baby instead.

What on earth am I going to do?

I mean, I have only seen him, what ten days in the last few months? Maybe even less! The odds have surely got to be against that happening.

2nd April

I’ve had to call the faculty and tell them I have a highly contagious disease and that is why I am not on campus.

I have been told I need to provide a doctor’s certificate. Crap.

I haven’t told Tristan, but I believe Meredith may have as he is being suspiciously un-arsy. This morning after she left for class, he came and sat on the end of my bed with his laptop.

“You okay, Lil?”

“Mm. Fine.”

“Can I get you anything?”

Yes. Please can you rewind time to Valentine’s Day and remind Ben to pack a bumper pack of condoms and also stop Dirty Lilah from coming out to play. I’m more than aware I was a key instigator in the events of that day.

Maybe not.

“No, I am okay.”

As he got up to leave I called him back.

“No, Trist. Can you sit with me, please?”

He settled back down and I lay on my back while tears escaped out of my eyes soaking silently into my pillow.

5th April

It’s no good. I think I may be dying.

Either that or I am dead and already in hell.

Baz is going to sack me. I had to miss work again yesterday. The thought got me near hysterical and in the end Meredith went in and explained to him that I genuinely have a terrible bug and she would cover some of my hours.

She came home completely shit faced and slurred at me that my “shecrets were shafe with her.”

Then she fell over.

8th April

I can hear Tristan and Meredith whispering outside my room. At least I believe they think they are whispering but I have supersonic hearing at the moment. My hearing is the only part of me still working.

“It’s not right,” says Tristan.

“What?”

“No one should be this sick,” he tells her.

There is a moment of silence where they both think about this; they are probably standing there watching me, I just can’t turn my head to check.

“Let’s give it another week and if it’s still this bad then we will take her back to the doctors. She may have to go into hospital.”

More silence.

“We need to tell him,” Tristan lowers his voice even more.

“Give her a few more days,” Meredith whispers back even lower.

“Whaaaat!” I screech. “If you guys call Ben I will never ever talk to either of you ever, ever again over my soon to be dead body.”

9th April

Still dead.

But I managed to scramble my way from my bed to the sofa so they would not call the doctor or Ben.

I need to speak to Ben but I don’t want to have to keep putting him on hold to throw up while I try to tell him the good news.

10th April

It is good news, isn’t it?

I think it is. I have a whole thirty minutes of clarity every so often where I think this is great. I mean it can’t be wrong. It is Ben and me; there is nothing wrong with that. I keep thinking about last year when we found out that there never was a McCannon/Chambers baby and how disappointed we both were.

It has got to be a good thing.

Then I throw up again and spend the next ten minutes heaving, shaking and sweating, and I curse Valentine’s Day all over again.

It’s a box of condoms. It’s not that hard to bloody remember.

11th April

End of Spring term. Everyone is out celebrating apart from me. I’m just throwing up instead. This is so not the way I thought my second year was going to go.

12th April

Meredith has been to work again for me. This means Meredith is drunk again for me.

Tristan is not impressed. Tristan is being a bit of a stress at the moment; every time I get sick he gets all agitated and starts huffing and puffing about the house.

If I didn’t know better I would think he was worried about me.

He keeps following me about looking at me in despair. Even when I am being sick.

“Lilah, seriously, you have got to get some help, you look terrible. Mum and Dad are going to bloody kill me when they find out that I’ve let you go on like this.”

See he is not worried about me at all. Just himself.

“Just don’t tell them, please,” I beg as I walk across the bathroom floor on my knees to wipe my face on a towel.

“Okay, but you need to speak to Ben as quick as you can. He is also going to go nuts, and I don’t want him doing that whole weird protective thing he does when he finds out that I have let you sit at home for three weeks suffering without him.”

“What weird protective thing?” I hold out my hand for him to help me off the floor.

“You know, he gets all possessive and protective when he thinks that there is something wrong with you, something that he can’t fix or make go away.”

I think about this for a moment. “I don’t know what you are talking about,”

“Okay, whatever. But you still need to call him. Try tonight, please.”

“Okay, now stop nagging me. My head hurts enough as it is.”

He wanders off and I resume my stare at the ceiling position.

11.00 p.m.

It’s a miracle, it is past eight and I am awake. Well, I say I am awake but what I really mean is that I have been asleep but have woken myself up so I can call Ben. I am hoping I can catch him before he goes on stage.

Okay here it goes. Deep breath.

Damn it.

Voicemail.

Okay here is goes again. Deep breath.

“Ben, it’s me, listen I know you are busy and I completely understand but, well, um, I have been rather sick and I need to talk to you. Uh, please call me back if you can.”

My voice starts to break as I finish and I hang up quick before he can hear. After I disconnect the call I realise I forgot to tell him that I love him.

13th April

Ben
: Sorry you’re feeling poorly, and sorry I have not called. Will ring you tomorrow. Love you. xxx

14th April

Except he hasn’t, and I don’t know what to text him back. It’s the Easter holidays and I am stuck here, throwing up, feeling more and more depressed by the minute and I can’t even tell my boyfriend about it. It’s starting to suck badly.

17th April

Still nothing. I texted him yesterday, I couldn’t stop myself. Obviously I did not text him the big news. But I just dropped him a line to tell him that I miss him and that I hope the tour is going well.

Nothing back.

Meredith and Tristan have got to go out tonight, some award function that Tristan is invited to.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I keep sodding crying. It’s ridiculous. Meredith has come in looking all super pretty which has made me cry, like a big baby.

“What’s the matter, babe?”

“I-i-i-i- d-o-n-t- k-n-o-w.”

“It’s just your hormones, Lilah, don’t worry,” she assures me, leaning over me to give me a hug. The smell of her perfume makes me want to be sick again.

“I-i-i-d-o-n-t-w-a-n-t-y-o-u- t-o- g-o- -o-u-t,” I say, making donkey noises.

I would not be so upset if Beth or Jayne could come and sit with me, but they are also going out to the awards bash. They both heard there was a free bar and invited themselves along. I don’t think Tristan was overly impressed.

“You will be fine,” she assures me again. “I’ve got to go and finish getting ready. I will come and check on you before we leave.”

“O-k-a-y,”

Half an hour later, I hear the doorbell chime.

Then I hear a voice I am not expecting, and, no, it is not Ben.

Richard.

“Lilah sitting service,” he calls as he walks in.

I should be embarrassed because I look terrible. Far, far worse than last time he saw me three weeks ago, before I even knew I was pregnant.

His expression speaks volumes as he looks at me.

“Shit, Lilah.”

“Yeah, shit,” I say, trying to sit up.

I throw up obviously.

“Bloody hell. You really do have cooties,” he laughs.

And for the first time in weeks I laugh as well.

Cooties, my sodding arse.

“Something like that,” I tell him.

“Guess you don’t want the pizza or the beers I brought over?” He waves the plastic bag he is holding.

“Rich! No don’t talk about food!” I shout. There is a list somewhere of all things people cannot mention near me. Basically anything you can eat or drink.

It’s too late. I throw up again instantly.

He comes and takes my sick bowl out of my hand.

“No, you don’t have to,” I start to say.

“Shut up, Lilah. And move the hell over. Where am I supposed to sit?”

So I do.

18th April

Good Friday

“Rich?” I feel a hand out along the bed. It comes up empty.

Thank goodness he is gone. I am sure that if I wasn’t looking rough last night when I threw my guts up in front of him, then I sure as hell will be now. Not that it matters.

“Nope, last time I checked my name was Ben.”

What?

Ben is here? I open my eyes instantly and attempt to sit up, but the vertigo hits as soon as my head is off the pillow. I roll back down onto my front with my face in my pillow.

Kit is looking at me sympathetically, he would. Of course he is back in my room now that Ben is here.

Oh shit, Ben.

Rolling onto my side I try to find the location of his voice.

He is sitting on the chair in the corner dressed in dark jeans and a jumper, his elbows resting on his knees and a guarded look across his face.

He shifts a little and runs his hand through his hair before stretching out his legs in front of him and sitting back in the chair. The blues watch me intently.

“Hi,” I say, without risking moving again. I could really do without being sick again, especially in front of Ben.

“So,” he starts. Clearly pleasantries are not on the agenda this morning. “May I ask why my girlfriend is calling another man’s name first thing in the morning and searching for him in our bed?”

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that he’s rather cross.

Can’t say I blame him.

“Ben, it’s not what you think.” I try and shift myself upwards but my head starts to spin superfast and I know that I am going to begin gagging.

I’ve managed to prop myself up onto both elbows before I get another sentence out. “I’ve been really sick, but Mer and Tristan had to go out last night and they did not want to leave me so they asked Rich to come over and sit with me.”

It’s the truth but it sounds terrible. Even I would not believe me.

Ben gives a little sigh and leans forwards again, resting his arms on his knees. “And where were Beth and Jayne?” he asks, a frown deepening between his eyebrows.

I’m trying to watch him and maintain eye contact, but my vision has dots all around the edges and I am starting to tingle hot all over. I want to explain that Beth and Jayne were out with Tristan and Meredith, but I know I’m not going to get the words out.

Instead I shout, “Ben, pass the bin?”

He looks at me like I may finally have lost it.

“Ben, pass the bloody bin!”

This time he scoots forward out of the chair, but it is too late. I throw up all over the floor.

It’s only water and it is not the first time I have been sick in front of Ben, but still.

“Shit, Lilah,” Ben exclaims as he steps over my puddle and sits next to me on the bed.

“Yep, I tried to warn you.” I offer a small smile and watch him, trying to gauge his emotions and reactions.

He gives his head a slow nod.

“Jesus, when you left that message I just thought you meant you were drunk and had a bad hangover.”

“Nope, not drunk.”