Tally rolled over in bed and hit the snooze button. Cracking open one eye, she confirmed that she could afford another five minutes, although the way she was feeling, another five hours still wouldn’t cut it. She was absolutely knackered all the time lately. She shouldn’t have been surprised, considering she hadn’t stopped to rest since meeting Nerissa. Renovating the flat and then moving in had taken its toll.

At least working the soup kitchen and writing the article—which she’d decided to turn into a series of articles—gave her little time to think. That suited her perfectly. Thinking led to regretting—and regretting led to hankering.

The alarm went off for a second time. Tally groaned and forced herself out of bed. She shoved her feet into her slippers and trudged into the bathroom. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she grimaced. Dark circles framed her eyes, and she looked closer to thirty-five than twenty-five. She’d need a ton of concealer to avoid the sympathetic looks and kind words of the refugees, who constantly told her how she should be taking better care of herself. Considering their lives had been completely destroyed by war and they faced an uncertain future, their thoughtfulness always brought her to the brink of tears.

Christmas Eve had arrived, and they were closing at three. Based on how hard it was to wake up, she’d be back in bed by three fifteen. At least she didn’t have a shift the next day or the day after. Nerissa had roped in some help from a couple of her neighbours to work over the festive period to give them both a break. Normally, Tally would have insisted on working, but she’d actually been relieved when Nerissa had organised the time off. Her plans for Christmas Day and Boxing Day started and ended with catching up on sleep.

Unable to face breakfast, she made a strong cup of coffee, added a good dollop of cream, and sank into a chair at the tiny kitchen table. Feeling lightheaded and nauseous, for a brief moment she thought about telling Nerissa she was too sick to work. But skiving never had been her style, regardless of how unwell she felt.

She swilled out her cup and set off downstairs. It was still dark outside as Tally began prep for the day. She hadn’t been there long when Nerissa arrived. She gave Tally a horrified glance and immediately pulled out a chair.

“You look terrible. Sit down, please. Why didn’t you call me?”

Tally waved her away. “I’m fine. Stop fussing.”

“I’m not kidding, Tally. You really don’t look well. Have you eaten?”

“Can’t face it.”

Nerissa placed her hand over Tally’s forehead. “You’re a little warm but nothing excessive. Shall I call Clio?”

“I don’t need a nurse. I need a good night’s sleep.”

Nerissa frowned. “You’re not sleeping?”

“Fits and starts, but I haven’t slept through the night for weeks.” Tally pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I keep having these weird dreams. They wake me up, and then it takes me ages to drop off again.”

Nerissa tilted her head to one side. “What are you dreaming about?”

“All sorts of things. Driving a bus that tips over and kills everyone on board. A tsunami hitting the island and wiping everyone out. The other night, I dreamt I was working in a car factory and I was in charge of fitting the engine. I don’t know a thing about cars.”

“You’re right,” Nerissa said with a laugh. “Very strange. No wonder you’re so tired. What was last night’s treat?”

Tally’s face heated, and she stared at the floor. “Sex,” she mumbled. “Lots of sex.”

Nerissa grinned. “Lucky you. Was the guy hot?”

“Very. My ex.”

“Ah.” Nerissa nodded. “You don’t say much about him, but I’m guessing he’s the reason you’re here, because he’s an ex?”

“Yes,” she said, ignoring the bite of pain in her chest. “He was hit by a car on the same night he proposed to me. He was in a coma for over two weeks, and when he came around, everything had changed. He’d changed. We had a row one night, and he told me he didn’t love me anymore and threw me out. I haven’t seen him since.”

Nerissa whistled through her teeth. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tally lurched to her feet. “Right, let’s get prep done. Otherwise, we’ll have a riot on our hands in about thirty minutes.”

Nerissa picked up Tally’s cue to move on from discussing Cash, and the morning passed quickly, but by midday, Tally was barely clinging on. Exhaustion swamped her, and every single action took a momentous effort. She was reaching into one of the top cupboards for some gravy granules when a severe dizzy spell hit her. The tub clattered to the floor, and Tally grabbed the counter top, barely keeping herself from tumbling after it.

“Tally!” Nerissa caught her as Tally’s knees buckled. Rhea, one of the other helpers, pulled out a chair, and Nerissa eased Tally into it.

“Go and get Clio,” Nerissa said to Rhea.

“No, I’m fine,” Tally said, wearily waving her hand in the air. “I’m overtired, that’s all.” But it was no use. Rhea was already pushing past the long queue that snaked out of the door and down the street, her small figure wrapped in an oversized coat as she disappeared around the corner.

“Humour me,” Nerissa said, pressing a glass of water into Tally’s hand. “Let Clio give you the once-over, and then I’ll stop nagging.”

“Promise?” Tally said with a wry grin.

“Don’t be silly,” Nerissa said. “I’m lying. You know how I love to nag.”

“Yeah. I pity your grandmother.”

“Don’t. Where do you think I got it from?”

Tally laughed. The dizzy spell had passed, and she was feeling much better already, but that didn’t stop Nerissa continuing to fuss, nor did it remove the concerned looks on the faces of several of the refugees. A couple of them scooched behind the counter and began to serve ladles of stew into plastic bowls to keep the line moving. Tally gave them a grateful smile.

Rhea had been gone about fifteen minutes when she returned with Clio in tow. Tally sat back and accepted her fate as Clio took her temperature, pulse, and blood pressure. Then she made Tally stand up and sit down. She asked questions until Tally was hoarse from answering.

“Okay, let’s get you upstairs,” Clio said. “Bed rest for you, at least for a day or so.”

“But the—”

“I’ve got it,” Nerissa said, rubbing her arm. “You do as Clio says. I’ll come and see you when I close up later.”

Bone-weary, Tally reluctantly agreed. She leaned on Clio as they negotiated the narrow staircase to her apartment above the café.

Clio ordered her straight to bed. She disappeared into the kitchen and five minutes later returned, holding a cup of camomile tea. “Here, drink this. It should help you sleep.”

Tally took a sip. “So what’s the verdict?”

Clio met her gaze but didn’t speak. The longer Clio remained silent, the more worried Tally became. What if something was really wrong with her, like cancer? She’d assumed she’d caught a virus, something that would be gone in a few days, but the way Clio was staring shot her brain into overdrive.

“Tally,” she said finally. “Is there a possibility you could be pregnant?”

A sudden coldness hit her core, and her heart began to race. “No,” she croaked. “It’s not possible. Not possible at all.”

“When was your last period?”

Tally frowned, counting back the days, weeks. “I-I can’t remember. I’ve been so busy.”

“When did you last have sex?”

“Ages ago. My boyfriend and I split up in October, and there hasn’t been anyone else. Surely if I was pregnant, I’d have had signs. Morning sickness or something. But I haven’t. I’m just tired.”

“Why don’t I pop down to the pharmacy and pick up a pregnancy test kit.”

Tally opened her mouth to protest.

“Just to rule it out,” Clio added.

Tally’s head flopped against the pillow. She didn’t have the energy to argue. “If you must.”

Once Clio had left, Tally reached for her phone and opened the calendar. The last time she and Cash slept together was the Friday before he threw her out. The ninth of October. That was more than ten weeks earlier. She lifted her pyjama top and placed the palm of her hand on her abdomen. She’d never had a washboard stomach, but it certainly wasn’t any bigger than usual. If she was more than ten weeks pregnant, there’d be a sign, a bump. No, it was going to be fine. Clio was being thorough, that was all, systematically ruling things out until she identified the real reason for Tally’s illness, which was more than likely a winter bug. There were plenty of them going around this time of year.

Clio returned after half an hour, clutching a brown paper bag. Tally would take the test, but it was a waste of time. There was no chance of her being pregnant. She and Cash had always been extremely careful. Neither of them had been ready for the responsibilities of parenthood.

“So how does this work, then?” Tally removed the white plastic stick from the box.

“You pee on that part,” Clio said, her index finger pointing at the stick. “Nothing more complicated than that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to wait until the morning?”

“Old wives’ tale. Off you go.” Clio waved in the direction of the small bathroom situated off Tally’s bedroom.

Tally was back a minute or so later and handed the stick to Clio. “How long do we have to wait?”

Clio glanced at the instructions. “Two minutes.”

“Great.” Tally paced back and forth. She didn’t know why she was so on edge. In two minutes, the test would show up as negative, and Clio would have to try to find another reason for why Tally felt so unwell.

“Ready?” Clio said when the two minutes were up. She held the stick in Tally’s direction.

“You do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

Clio glanced down, her face giving nothing away. After a few seconds, she lifted her head, her steady gaze meeting Tally’s.

“Merry Christmas, Tally. You’re going to be a mama.”