The short walk back to the hotel helped to clear Jane’s nausea, however the heat was unbearable. As soon as she reached her suite, she jumped into the shower and washed her hair. Sitting naked on the bed, combing her hair through with the air-conditioning at full blast, brought some welcome relief for a while, but she felt restless, as though she needed to be back at the arena with Silas.
She decided to go in search of a pharmacy to get some cream or talcum to treat her prickly heat rash and then walk back to the arena and surprise him, maybe take him something. She changed into a maxi dress and teamed it with a pair of strappy sandals, and some colourful bangles. She grabbed her purse and backstage pass and headed out of the hotel, out into the warm evening air, with the dusk fast approaching, her damp hair helping to keep her cool.
She didn’t speak much Italian at all, and the pharmacist didn’t seem to speak much English, so she pulled the neckline of her dress aside just enough to allow the pharmacist to see the issue. She pulled a face and made an ‘ooh’ noise and quickly found Jane an emollient to apply. Jane thanked her and began to leave the store, when she spotted the pregnancy testing kits.
Jane’s heart skipped a beat. When was the last time she’d seen her period? Is this why she had been feeling so peculiar of late? So nauseous?
Jane picked up one of the kits. The primary language was Italian on the box, but it stood to reason there would be additional instructions in other languages on the information leaflet inside. And if there weren’t, so what? How difficult would it be to use? You peed on the stick and if you were pregnant there would be a line. That much would be the same wherever in the world you were.
She made her way back to the counter and handed the little box to the pharmacist, who smiled a little uncertainly. Jane understood that look. How could you tell whether the purchaser of a pregnancy test would be happy or sad about the results? Would Jane be pleased with a positive result? She thought about it for a moment, and a moment was all she needed. She was twenty-nine, she loved Silas, they would soon be together permanently, this would be the icing on the cake. She beamed at the pharmacist who laughed and handed her change over.
***
The area around the arena was buzzing with people. Jane slipped through the rear entrance juggling two ice-cold mango and raspberry smoothies she’d purchased from a street vendor in one hand and her pass in the other. The hit of vitamin C was obviously what she needed, and hopefully Silas would enjoy one too. He generally loved fruit. She guessed he could always add a splash of Jack Daniels to his, if he was still needing to take the edge off.
She found her way back to his dressing room. Twenty-to-nine. He’d be gearing up to go onstage. She didn’t bother knocking, just pulled the handle down with one elbow and pushed her way in.
He was pretty much where she’d left him, except instead of holding the guitar in his lap, he’d replaced it with Monty. A naked, hip-wriggling Monty. And instead of the bottle of Jack Daniels, several lines of coke were neatly lain out on the shelf to Silas’s left.
Jane dropped the smoothies to the floor in shock and caught her breath, taking in the scene with deep dismay. Silas and Monty looked up at her in unison, Silas with a look of fear and horror, Monty with amusement.
Silas pushed Monty off and she stood, completely unabashed at her nakedness. Her face was flushed from exertion in the heat, rather than embarrassment. She flipped her long blonde hair over one shoulder and smiled with lips of cherry red. “Oops,” she said, her eyes glowing with triumph.
Jane stared at Monty with hatred. You could lay a ruler in the gap between her perfectly orb-shaped breasts, and trace every rib on her well-defined rib cage. She was unnatural, a monstrosity. And Silas was attracted to that? What did that say about Jane’s soft and imperfect body? How would he feel if she was pregnant? Would he tolerate her weight gain and stretch marks? It was a moot point.
Silas hauled himself off his chair, pulling up his leather trousers and struggling to button the fly. “Jane,” he began. She shook her head and held up a shaking hand. What could he possibly have to say that she hadn’t heard before.
“You just can’t keep it in your trousers, can you Silas?” she said, her voice at once mild, and yet covering a volcano of hot fury. She turned about. Time to walk away.
Silas called after her, and Jane slowed. She wasn’t listening to what he had to say, she was simply considering her options. She would find Dewey and he would organise for her to fly back to the UK in the morning. Then she would take one day at a time to recover from this absolute nonsense.
She should be mad, she knew that. She should be crazy with anger that he had betrayed her again, however if what she suspected was true, if Jane was carrying his child, she needed think of the baby, not herself, and most certainly not Silas.