Emily’s legs were shaking as she walked into the kitchen where Sophie and Steve were waiting. She had asked to see them together, a few days after they had returned from their short honeymoon in Paris. She knew what she had to do. She also knew that she should have done it fifteen years ago when she first found out she was pregnant. But she had made her decision then and there was no going back on it.
Emily left Anton’s hotel just after dawn and began to walk along the river in the misty, early light, heading for Greenwich where her parents lived. They had left her graduation party, telling Emily to have fun with your friends and enjoy yourself, unaware that she was planning to go to a hotel with her tutor and spend the night with him.
Anton had kissed her goodbye with such tenderness that morning that she knew it was about more than just sex. It always had been. They had a deeper, more spiritual connection. But it was over, nonetheless. He would be catching a train back to Durham, returning to his wife and children, and she doubted whether she would ever see him again. There was no reason why their paths would ever need to cross now that she had left university, and the sadness she felt at this knowledge was like a dead weight inside her.
As she walked, watching London begin to wake up for the day ahead, she knew she had to look towards the future now and make a decision. It wasn’t too late. All her options were still open.
She put a hand to her stomach, which was becoming slightly rounder already. There was a new tautness to her skin and her breasts had noticeably begun to swell. Then there was the endless, relentless nausea and the bone-crushing tiredness. She could put a stop to it all. Her life wouldn’t need to change and she could fulfil the hopes and dreams she had always held. No one need ever know and she could live her life as if that awful, fateful night had never happened.
Except… she would know. She would have to look at herself in the mirror every morning. And, more than that, she really wanted this baby. Yes it would be the convenient, most sensible option to have an abortion. But she knew herself well enough to know that there was no way she could ever go through with it. She already loved this baby, however much she tried not to. And it would be easy to let everyone assume that Anton was the father. He wasn’t going to be around to deny it. By the time she arrived home, with both her heart and her feet aching, she had reached her decision.
It was several weeks before she told Steve. She wondered if she deliberately left it so long because she wanted it to be too late. She called him to ask if he would meet her at a busy coffee shop near Covent Garden.
He arrived looking ashen, his normally tanned skin carrying a faint, green tinge. He could barely meet her eye and kept glancing around nervously. After a few moments of awkward small talk, she took a deep breath. ‘Steve, I thought you should know that I’m pregnant.’
Steve’s face froze in horror. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it again, apparently unable to speak.
Emily swallowed and prepared for the greatest acting scene of her life. ‘It’s not yours, Steve.’ Her eyes searched his, as she willed herself not to show any sign of doubt or uncertainty. ‘I know who the father is… and it’s not you.’
Steve stared at her for a few seconds, before his face seemed to melt with relief. ‘Not mine?’ he repeated, his voice croaky and breathless.
Emily shook her head firmly. ‘No. I don’t want to say who the father is because… well, it’s complicated. But I am one hundred per cent certain that it’s not you.’
Steve blinked back a tear and exhaled with relief, the colour already returning to his complexion. ‘How can you be so sure?’ He looked at her with a pleading expression, wanting her to provide him with a convincing answer.
She paused for a moment, thinking. ‘I took the morning-after pill, just in case.’
Steve gave her a small, grateful smile and nodded. ‘OK.’
‘I haven’t told Sophie and the others yet because I wanted to speak to you first. I knew what you would think…’ She tailed off, suddenly feeling exhausted and emotional.
Steve nodded again. ‘Thank you.’
There was a short silence, as both of them drank their coffee, deep in thought.
‘Tell me to mind my own business if you want to,’ Steve began nervously. ‘But are you and the father in a relationship?’
Emily placed her cup in its saucer and shook her head. ‘Not any more. As I said, it’s complicated.’
‘Does he know?’
Emily thought for a second before answering. ‘No. I think it’s for the best. I don’t want him to know,’ she added, in a stern voice.
Steve gave her a concerned look. ‘Who’ll look after you? Who’ll support you and the… the baby?’
Emily was touched by his concern. ‘My mum and dad. They weren’t thrilled but they’ll come round.’
‘That’s good.’ Steve nodded. ‘And I’ll be there for you, too. You know that, don’t you? We all will – Me, Sophie, Melissa and Amy… if there’s anything you need?’
‘I know. Thank you. And thanks for meeting me today too.’ Emily finished her coffee and reached for her bag.
‘I’ll see you soon, OK?’ Steve reached out and touched her arm as she left him.
Emily nodded and walked out of the coffee shop, her stomach churning but feeling certain that she had done the right thing.
Fifteen years on, and it was only now that she was realizing what a truly disastrous decision that had been. Yes, it would have been hell at the time and most likely have ended her friendship with Sophie. But Steve would have been a good father to Jack. He would have wanted to be there for him and be involved in his life. She had denied him that chance because she was a coward and didn’t want her treachery to be discovered. She had thought at the time that she was protecting him, when in fact she was only really protecting herself. She felt deeply ashamed as she took her seat at the table.
Steve and Sophie looked across at her expectantly.
‘How’s Jack?’ Sophie’s forehead creased with concern.
Emily shook her head. ‘He’s not great. That’s why I’ve asked to see you, actually.’ She paused, trying to gather herself before continuing. ‘The chemo hasn’t worked…’
There was a collective gasp from them both. ‘Oh, no!’ Sophie whispered, looking aghast.
Emily looked at their sympathetic faces, intensifying her guilt a thousand-fold. ‘So he’s going to need a bone-marrow transplant.’
There was a short pause before Sophie spoke. ‘Then we’ll all be tested.’ She glanced at Steve, who nodded quickly. ‘Of course we will.’
Emily swallowed. This was so, so hard. ‘It needs to be a sibling, to give him the best chance.’ Her throat dried as she finished speaking.
There was a flicker of confusion on their faces, as they digested her words. ‘So, you mean Anton’s kids will have to be tested?’ Sophie said finally.
Emily opened her mouth to speak but she was momentarily dumbstruck.
‘Look, Emily, I know you don’t want anything to do with him, but—’
‘It’s not that simple…’ Emily interrupted, raising her hand slightly.
Sophie stopped speaking and looked at her in surprise.
Emily could feel herself reddening and she started to shake. ‘Anton isn’t Jack’s father.’ Her voice quavered as she spoke.
‘What?’ Sophie cried, her eyes widening with shock. ‘But you said he was!’
Emily shook her head slowly. ‘The thing is, I didn’t. You all assumed it and I admit I was happy for you to assume it. I’ve never told anyone who Jack’s dad is. I would still prefer not to tell anyone but…’ The tears that had been threatening, now began to roll down her cheeks. ‘. . . but with Jack so ill, I’ve got no choice. I’m sorry.’ She put her hands over her face and began to cry in earnest.
‘What on earth are you apologizing for, Em?’ Sophie leapt out of her chair and came to crouch beside Emily, putting her arms around her shoulders and holding her as she cried. ‘You have nothing to apologize for.’
‘I do,’ Emily sobbed. ‘I have so much to apologize for.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Sophie looked up at Steve, perplexed. ‘So you didn’t tell us who Jack’s father was… it’s not a big deal.’
Emily had managed to compose herself enough to stop crying, and she watched as Sophie returned to her chair, her face set in a serious expression.
Beside her, there was a sudden noise that was somewhere between a wail and a sob. Steve pushed back his chair so roughly that it tipped back and clattered onto the tiled floor, causing them all to jump. Steve looked at Emily with a pleading expression. ‘Please!’ he whimpered, covering his mouth and shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.…’
Emily swallowed hard and met Steve’s anguished gaze. ‘I’m sorry, Steve. I know I should have told you all those years ago… but I thought it was for the best.’
‘Should have told him what?’ Sophie was gaping at Steve in confusion.
Emily closed her eyes, wanting the ground to swallow her up for ever. ‘Steve is Jack’s real father.’