Page 122 of The Surrender
“I said I’d pop round Charley’s. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I drop my phone to my lap and watch the world go by for a while, wondering if I’m mentally stalling what needs to be done. Probably. “How did you let this happen, Amelia?” I ask myself, smiling at an old boy walking a spaniel when he gives me questioning eyes. I put my bag onto my lap and look at the box inside. Am I?
I text Charley.
Are you home?
Yes. Abbie’s here too.
I stand and head for the Tube.
Chapter 26
The front door swings open and Lloyd’s face drops. “Oh fuck, what’s happened?” he breathes. “Charley!”
I thought I’d got a hold of myself, but the second Charley appears, the dam cracks again and emotion pours out of me rapidly. It might be the familiar face. I don’t know.
“I’ll leave you three to it,” Lloyd says, claiming the kids and making a sharp exit, just as Abbie appears. That makes me cry harder. Charley hauls me into her chest, squeezing me, and Abbie’s hand pats at my back. My sobs accelerate, becoming louder, my body more out of control.
“Amelia?” Abbie says gently, as Charley guides me to the kitchen and puts me on a stool. Abbie runs to the fridge, pours wine for everyone, and when she slides it across the island to me, I cry harder.
“Oh fucking hell.” Abbie leans back on her stool, swigging her own wine with wide eyes, bracing herself.
A tissue is pushed into my hand, and I use the other to pull out the box from my bag and put it on the island. Both women stare down at it for much longer than they really need to. Both of their reactions are delayed. Both their round eyes shoot up. Both their gasps fill the kitchen. And then both of them slap palms over their mouths.
Shocked.
So shocked.
“Who?” Charley asks.
I can’t even say his name, more tears coming, my throat getting thicker. “J—”
“Oh my fuck.” Charley drops to a stool heavily and fills her glass. “And you’re sure?”
I shake my head, pushing the box farther forward. “I didn’t want to be alone when it’s confirmed beyond all doubt that I’m a reckless dickhead.”
Abbie coughs over an inappropriate huff of laughter, and Charley smiles softly. “Come on,” she says, sliding the box off the marble and taking my hand. Abbie takes the other, and my two best friends walk me to the bathroom to do the dreaded test.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do?” Abbie asks as Charley gets a test out of the box. I shake my head, my eyes lasers on Charley’s working hands. I can’t think past the fact that I have been so fucking dumb, oneverylevel. And as if to remind me exactly how dumb, my mobile rings in my hand. I look down at the screen. My insides twist.
“Fuck off,” I whisper, throwing my iPhone into the sink, needing rid of it.
Taking a deep breath, I hold my hand out. “Let’s get it over with.”
They sit on the edge of the tub while I pull my dress up, my knickers down, and lower, holding the stick between my legs as I pee.
Pee and pray.
Pee and pray.
Please, please, please.
I place the stick on the edge of the sink and sort myself out, washing my hands and starting to pace the small bathroom, up and down, up and down.
“I need a drink,” Abbie says, taking the stick. “Come on. We’ll be more comfortable in the kitchen.”
Following her out after collecting my phone, I continue to pray. The girls work their way through another glass as I pace some more, around and around the island, looking at Charley every few seconds as she keeps an eye on the time. She eventually nods.
“Who’s looking?” Abbie asks, keeping her distance, all of us staring at the small stick on the island that could potentially change my life forever.
