Against the Tide (22 page)

“Jamie,” I huff out a breath. She’s been trying to convince me not to go and meet Finn ever since I got home and told her everything that happened today.

“You don’t know him, Megs.”

“He’s not an axe murderer.” I flick the TV off by the remote and turn to face her.

“How do you know that? How do you know he’s not going to chop you up in to little pieces and feed you to the sharks?”

“Jamie! You have an overactive imagination.”

“Maybe, I just don’t see what you stand to gain from going. What does he want to see you for anyway?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m going.” I roll my eyes at her question and she rolls hers right back at me.

“I don’t understand why you feel you owe him your time. He hasn’t exactly been Prince Charming. You wanna know what I think?”

“No, but I’ve got a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You’re fighting with yourself over this baby. You don’t want it, I get that. Except−”

“Except, what?” I snap.

She grabs her laptop and comes to sit next to me, gesturing for me to lift my feet. I shuffle back and pick my feet up, placing them across her lap. “Except, I think that you do want it. You’re just scared, which is okay, Meg.”

I ignore her comment because I know she wants to engage me in a long conversation about why I should reconsider having a termination, and I just don’t want to talk about it. It’s bad enough that I think about it all the time without actually hearing myself talk about it too.

“What are you doing?” I ask as she opens up the laptop.

“Stalking.”

“Stalking, who?”

“That Finn guy. What’s his last name?” she asks, not even lifting her eyes from the screen.

“Jamie! Why? I don’t know his last name anyway.”

“Look, Meg. You might want to live in the Dark Age and not log on to any kind of social media at all, but I happen to be a stalker extraordinaire,” she says proudly, “and I would like to know a little bit about the guy that my best friend is insistent on meeting, so just let me do what I’m good at, okay?”

“If you say so, but surely there’s millions of people on Facebook, no?”

“Yep.”

“So how are you going to narrow it down to just one person whose full name I don’t even know?”

“Watch and learn,” she mutters, ferociously tapping away on the keys and totally engrossed in the screen in front of her. Computers and tech have never really interested me. The times that I have caved and looked out of curiosity, I’ve come away from the computer depressed and disappointed in the human race. Call me ignorant, but I’d rather stay in my own world. I have enough drama in my life without seeing more of it in everyone else’s.

“Bingo.” She turns to me with a grin and waggles her eyebrows at me.

“What? Really?” I say, surprised at her capabilities. “How do you even know if it’s the same person, Jamie?”

“Well, I’m going on a description from you, and the fact that I don’t think there will be many guys that live in Brighton with a name like his. Finn. Two n’s. Mr. Finn James.” She turns the screen in my direction and there he is, looking at me intently from his profile picture.

“How do you even do that? You’re scary good, Jamie.”

“I know.” She swings the laptop away from me before I feel ready to stop looking.

“Hey! I was looking at that,” I protest immediately, surprising myself.

“Thought you weren’t interested?” She gives me a smug look with one raised eyebrow.

“I’m not, I just …”

“Ooh, Hubba, hubba.”

“What? Show me!” I screech and she turns the screen to me once again, this time it’s filled with picture of topless Finn. Holy fuck. I’ve never seen him topless. Ironic really, but I feel like I’m missing out. He’s sculpted. Not built or particularly big. But he’s defined, with sexy shoulders, tight abs and tattoos. Oh my god. The tattoos. Three stars on either side of the V that leads inward to the belt buckle of his jeans, and beyond. And he looks happy. He’s laughing, naturally, carefree, before life shot him a bum deal.

“You’re dribbling on my laptop,” Jamie informs me, and although I know I’m not, it prompts me to close my mouth which has most definitely been hanging open the whole time I’ve been looking at his picture. “Now tell me you’re still not interested.”

“I never said I wasn’t attracted to him.”

“I should hope not. I would be having your brain checked out too, the next time you’re at the clinic.”

I tug my feet back and Jamie lifts the laptop so I can get up. “Don’t even think about it, Jamie. Okay?” I warn. I don’t want to do this again. It’s an argument I have with myself constantly and it’s not one I want to have with her right now.

She stands up too, and fixes herself in front of me, placing her hands gently on my shoulders. “Meg,” she says softly, imploring me to look at her but I keep my head down. If I look at her I know she will make me see reason and I stubbornly only want to see my own logic. “Megs, it’s fine to want this baby. It’s okay to bring it up on your own, hell, you won’t be on your own, you’ll have me.”

“Lesbian lovers, eh?” I chuckle under my breath.

She takes her hands from my shoulders and places them on either side of my face, gently tilting my head so I look at her. “Honey, if I did swing that way, you would be my first choice. But I don’t, so I could just be awesome auntie Jamie. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I want you to think it through from every angle before you do something that you might regret.”

I twist out of her grip and sigh. “You’re right. I don’t want to hear it. The thing that I can’t get past thinking, Jamie, is what if I did have it? What if I regretted having it? What if I was doing the wrong thing by having this little innocent baby by bringing it in to such a huge fucking mess?” I fling my hands wildly beside me. I’m frustrated, angry and scared, and it makes any rational decision even harder to make. “There’s no going back from that, and I might end up resenting a baby that had no choice but to be here, with no family, and no father either. I’d say that’s a bigger mistake than deciding not to bring a child into the world that I don’t think I can provide for and create an amazing life for, don’t you think?” My heart feels heavy, and I push away the urge to stroke the little life growing in my belly. I already feel protective of this little person, which contradicts everything that I’ve convinced myself of so far, and I wonder if it can hear me yet. I purposely haven’t read up about foetal development as I didn’t want to get too involved, ignorance is bliss and all that. But now I feel guilty and hope that the poor little bean didn’t hear me say all those things. God, I’m so confused.

“I just think you’re making a fast decision because of the situation at the moment. Can’t you take a week or two to think about it? I’ll bet if you told him−”

“No, Jamie. I can’t. I don’t have the luxury of time. I don’t want to wait two weeks to see if I’ll have an epiphany. I don’t want to wait two weeks, and I do not want to tell him.”

She looks at me with sympathy in her eyes, “You know I’ll be here for you whatever you decide.” She crooks her arm around my neck and pulls me to her for a side hug, kissing my temple. “But I think you’re being an ostrich.”

“Hmph. It’s not fair,” I pout.

“I know.”

“What time is it?”

She checks her watch. “Six thirty. You definitely going to meet him?”

“Yeah.” I don’t even sound convincing to myself.

“Want me to come with?”

“Nope. Thanks. I’m going to put my big girl pants on and deal with it.”

“Better you did put big pants on, granny knickers would be better, then you might not be so eager to let him rip your clothes off.”

“Jamie!” I say in disbelief at her bluntness. “You’re practically calling me a slut.”

“Where he’s concerned, you are. You don’t have any restraint, and after seeing that picture of him, can’t say I blame you!”

“You’re fast becoming my least favourite person today,” I grumble, pulling out of her hug and stomping off up the stairs.

She laughs and calls to me, “I love you, Megs.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I call back over my shoulder.

I stand under the hot spray of the shower for a long time. Trying to make sense of everything, trying to come to a final decision that I’m happy with, but happy seems like such hard emotion to achieve. I try and pinpoint when it all went wrong, which only serves to make me feel sorrier for myself and this fucked up situation. I watch the water flowing away down the drain hole and realise that my tears are mingling with it and flowing away too. Silent tears that run down my cheeks in a black stream, mingled with mascara. They run over my jaw, my neck and down the length of my body before being washed away for good. If only it was that easy to wash away my problems, to erase everything and start over with a clearer, wiser head. My hand trails over my flat stomach, back and forth as sobs grow harder in my throat and the tears fall faster over my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

Marc leaves me at the pub and goes home to his little family. I’m happy for him, it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s always been a homebody. Not like me, I’ve always been the untameable one, and I can’t see how or why anyone would want to settle down with me long enough to start a family. I’d be a shit dad anyway. I take my time finishing my drink and mull things over in my head. Harley was right when he said it wasn’t worth doing time for killing a scum bag like Damien Brooks, even though it would feel justified. But my mum needs me, and she’s still here and I have to do what’s right by her. After that, who knows where my focus is going to be, but if I’ve learned anything over the last few months it’s that things can change so fast and I need to live for today. Here and now is what matters most and I’ve spent too many years not realising this, or knowing it deep down but being too selfish to actually see it.

I have to trust Harley when he says that Damien won’t have it easy inside when we finally nail him. I hope he has it really fucking hard actually. I’d be pretty happy if he was beaten and raped on a daily basis for what he did to Lizzie. He’s gotten away with so much, caused so much pain and shown no remorse and for my sanity, I hope karma finds him sooner rather than later.

On the walk back to my mum’s house along the sea front, I feel conflicted. I have an irrational, sick excitement for the day Damien Brooks pays for what he’s done. But on the other side of the coin, I feel sad and tired and so damn bitter that it eats away at me, twisting my insides and making it hard for me to see a time in my future where one day it might all be okay.

As I turn the corner to my mum’s street a blue flashing light catches my eye and my breath.

An ambulance. Mum.

My legs carry me in a flat out sprint to the front steps which I take two at a time and burst in through the open front door. “Mum,” I call out, the panic rising further up in my chest for every second she doesn’t answer me. “MUM!” I yell drawing in frantic breaths.

Annie comes out of Mum’s room, she looks worried and her eyes already show a sympathy that I don’t like. “Oh, Finn,” she sobs. “Your mum’s running a really high temperature, they’re taking her in.”

“When did this happen? Why didn’t you call me?” I snap. I push past her and enter the room where the paramedics are gently moving Mum on to a stretcher, talking to her in hushed tones.

“Mum?” My voice shakes, and I can’t disguise the fact that I’m scared as hell. I rush to her side and the paramedic kindly steps back allowing me to gently take her limp hand in mine. She’s clammy to touch, her face is pale and lifeless and she doesn’t even open her eyes when I speak. “Can you hear me, Mum?” My heart contracts so hard it’s painful, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this helpless or scared in my life. It was fucking horrific when I went to hospital with Lizzie, but this … is twice the pain.

“We’ve given her some morphine, so that’ll probably knock her out for a few hours,” the female medic informs me.

“Is she … Is this it?” I ask in a whisper before I swallow the grief already rising in my throat.

“We’re going to help her as much as we can, and the best place for her will be in the hospital where they can watch her closely and keep an eye on her meds. She needs further examination.” The medic pulls up the side of the stretcher and secures a belt around Mum’s middle to keep her secure on the journey.