Something More (Girlfriend Fiction 11) (7 page)

‘Why?' I held my breath.

‘Because it seemed like a fun way to waste a morning.'

I bit my lip in an effort to stay calm. ‘I mean, why do you need a pregnancy test if you're on the pill?'

‘I'm not good with medicine. I missed a few.'

‘You missed a few? How many?'

She shrugged.

‘For god's sake, how could you forget? I mean it's not a case of your cold getting worse if you miss your pill…it could be your whole
life
ruined!'

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Thanks for pointing that out.'

I wanted to slap her. ‘What have you done?'

‘I don't know yet,' she whispered. Way back in the corners of her eyes, I could see fear, and it threw me. I much preferred a sarcastic sister to a scared one. I lowered my voice.

‘How late?'

‘Ten days.'

My questions all spilt out together. ‘Have you been to a doctor? Do you know for sure? Does anyone else know? Have you had
sex
?'

She chose to answer the last one first.

‘No, it was the Baby Fairy. She just…' but she didn't finish.

I was thinking furiously while she studied the wall.

‘Maybe there's another explanation,' I ventured hopefully. ‘I mean, girls are late for lots of reasons. You could be sick, or stressed, or not eating enough. All those things can stop a period, too.' I searched her face for some encouragement, but I didn't get any.

Who was the guy? I realised I probably knew already. Sean Phillips? I thought back to Molly's comment. Is that what the kick had been about?

She broke the silence. ‘Yes, I had sex.'

I squirmed. We aren't the kind of sisters who volunteer personal details like this. We argue and laugh together, but we've never done the deep-and-meaningful. We both have our close friends for that.

I guessed she was waiting for some sort of response.

‘Sean Phillips?'

She nodded. ‘It all went so fast. It was like we just couldn't find the brakes.'

I began to pace again. ‘You shouldn't be behind the wheel if you don't know how to find the brakes.' I couldn't believe I was channelling Dad.

‘Is that why you're too scared to learn to drive?'

A glimmer of the old Terry had returned, but she didn't stay long.

‘A few weeks ago…when I went out that night to the movies for my birthday…'

‘You had sex at the movies?' I was horrified.

‘No, you idiot. We didn't get there in the end. We went back to his place instead, and it just happened.'

‘Were his parents home?'

‘As if.'

I was caught in a cruel trap. I didn't want to hear the gory details of my sister's sex life, but I was curious.

‘What was it like?' I said eventually.

‘You don't know?'

I shook my head and waited for her to scoff.

‘I've often wondered if you and Brian…'

She hesitated, actually choosing her words carefully for once. I even felt the need to help her out.

‘No, never.'

‘But you were seeing him, weren't you? I mean, he was special?'

‘Yes, he was definitely special.'

‘I thought so. Was it hard to leave him?'

‘What do you think?'

‘It explains why you always acted like coming here was the worst thing in the world. Do you miss him?'

When I didn't comment this time, she tried again. ‘Do you stay in touch with him?'

‘You should know. You've got my phone more than you've got your own.'

‘But I haven't worked out your new email password yet, so some of your stuff could still be getting by me.'

I smiled. ‘No. We decided to drop it. It was easier. It's not like he could jet over here every weekend in his private plane.'

‘But you could have stayed friends.'

‘No, we couldn't,' I said firmly.

‘Why not?'

‘Since when did this conversation become about me?' I asked. ‘Since you asked me what sex was like.'

‘And you still haven't answered.'

‘I'm thinking.'

I was about to tell her to forget it when she said, ‘It was nice. Fumbly and fast and kind of funny, but exciting too, because we knew we shouldn't be doing it. We'd already talked about it – that's why I had the pill – but we were supposed to be taking our time to make a decision. I guess that plan just got away from us.'

She sounded older than Mum.

‘I didn't even realise you were seeing someone,' I told her.

‘Why would you?'

There was no criticism in her tone. As if reading my thoughts, she said, ‘I suppose it would be nice if we were like a pair of storybook sisters who hung out together, but let's face it, we always manage to piss each other off, don't we?'

I was surprised. ‘We're not that bad. We get on okay sometimes.'

‘True, and who says sisters have to live in each other's pockets?'

She was letting me off the hook, and I felt guilty. I was the eldest, so maybe it was my fault we weren't closer. I never made the effort to tell her anything about my life. Not the important stuff.

But Terry was a difficult person to trust. She was like a fire, drawing people in with her warmth but burning anyone who got too close.

‘Have you told Mum any of this?'

She shook her head.

‘Don't be mad at me.' She snatched my hand in a tight grip. We never hold hands. It felt a bit fake, so my first instinct was to pull away. Her eyes traced my hand's journey back to my own lap.

‘What about Sean?' I asked, hoping I hadn't hurt her feelings.

‘I've told him, and he's terrified. His parents will kill him.'

‘Our parents will kill him too, after they're finished with you.'

‘I know.'

‘Does anyone else suspect?'

‘No.'

‘How come Molly Phillips hates you?'

‘She hates all of Sean's girlfriends.'

‘How many has he got?'

She grinned. ‘Molly is just overprotective.' She began to chew on her thumbnail. ‘You may be right about my period being late for another reason. It could be a false alarm, I guess.'

‘Well, let's make sure. Tomorrow we'll get another test and you can take it.'

‘I was going to wait a bit longer.'

‘Why? If you're late, you should find out right away. Delaying the test isn't going to change anything.'

She groaned. ‘Okay. You're right.'

Feeling the need to escape, I turned for the door. What were we going to do if the test was positive?

Could we make it all go away without anyone else finding out? That would mean…a termination. Could Terry have one at sixteen without Mum's permission? I swallowed hard. I'd have to research that. If Terry needed a parent's signature, Mum would have to be told pretty soon.

What was I thinking? She'd have to be told anyway. There was just no way we could hide something like this. And would Terry even consider a termination? Would my parents let her have one if she did? What about Sean…and his parents? Did they have any say? Should they? And what…

STOP! My brain ground to a halt, controlling the avalanche of panic and flagging one last thought for my consideration:
Just wait until Terry takes the test
. That did seem sensible.

I was reaching for the door handle when she said, ‘You've got no idea what a relief it is to tell someone at last.' She began to giggle and held her hand up in apology when I shook my head.

‘Sorry,' she snorted. ‘I'm just thinking of the shocked mother who buys Mitsy from the Salvos for her little kid and finds a pregnancy test and the pill in there.'

Pictures flooded my mind, of a current-affairs story about a young child who almost died from eating birth-control pills. I watched the footage in my head: the forlorn mother with cute little what's-her-face in her arms; the grainy video of the pills; the disgust in the Salvo representative's voice; and a close-up of a sinister-looking Mitsy, propped up on a chair for our parents to recognise.

‘What's wrong, Isla?'

I grabbed her arm. ‘We've got to get that mouse back.'

‘If dads are the heads of their
families, Isla, mums are the feet.
It's hard to give your kids a kick up
the bum with your noggin.'

(Gran McGonnigle)

We met at the Salvos after school the next day. Terry seemed optimistic, and her good mood made me feel less anxious. The pungent smell of the shop hit me as soon as we opened the door. ‘Hello,' a voice called out from behind a rack of rags.

‘Check out this old duck,' Terry whispered as an ancient woman appeared, wearing more make-up and gold jewellery than anyone I'd ever seen. A name badge announced that she was Dot.

‘Great name,' Terry whispered. ‘Do you think it's because she looks like a dot-to-dot picture done by some kid who hasn't learnt to count? There have definitely been a few numbers skipped around her mouth.'

I choked back a laugh. Dot's red lips had gone for a wander to her nostrils.

‘And what can I do for you two girls?' she asked. Her voice was surprisingly husky. Before I could answer, Terry lied, effortlessly.

‘We were just wondering if you've come across a green-and-white mouse. It's our little sister's favourite soft toy, and Isla here was mad at her, so she snuck it into one of the boxes that Mum donated to you. Now she feels guilty so we need to get it back.'

Dot shot me a cold look. ‘That was an awful thing to do.'

Absurdly, I found myself agreeing with her as she led us to the cuddly-toy shelf. Terry had a rummage through the masses of bears, rabbits and other creatures, but there was no mouse.

‘When did your mum drop the boxes off?' Dot asked Terry.

‘Dad delivered them on Sunday.'

‘Oh, you should have said that. None of the weekend's donations have been sorted yet.'

‘Are they still in their boxes?' I asked hopefully, thinking of Mum's big letter ‘S' on each one.

‘Unluckily for you, they're not,' she snapped, before smiling at Terry again. ‘Bill Jennings comes in for five hours on a Monday to unpack the weekend's donations. He leaves everything in a bundle over there for the girls to go through on Friday. You're welcome to have a rummage.'

We dropped to our knees and began to handle the pile. I wished I had gloves. ‘Ahh, check these out.' I held them up: a pair of stained black tights with a hole in them.

‘What about these?' Terry was waving an enormous pair of knickers. ‘Even Gran could get into these.'

‘Will you just shut up about Gran? I'm sick of you saying mean things about her all the time.'

Terry sniffed at my outburst. ‘Gran McGonnigle is Queen Mean.'

‘She is not.'

‘You don't notice because it's never directed at you, Princess Isla.'

‘Oh don't start with that again.'

‘You're her favourite,' she said.

‘That's rubbish. You just think she's mean because she stands up to you and puts you in your place.'

‘Well, she's never going to put me in yours.' Something in her voice made me look up.

Gran is tough – I'm the first to admit it – but it's always clear where you stand with her, and she gives good advice, whether you want it or not.

‘I'm sure she loves us both in her own way,' I said.

‘She won't love me if I'm pregnant. She'll hate me, and then you'll really be the star granddaughter.'

She spat the last few words out. So much for her good mood. I'd had enough. ‘Do you get why they call it self-pity, Terry?' I didn't wait for her to answer. ‘Because you should keep it to yourself. No one wants to hear it. I'm doing my best to help, and I don't remember getting any thanks.'

She pulled another bag of junk towards her and was halfway through it when she said, ‘Sorry.'

We worked together in silence. A few minutes later she added timidly, ‘What if we don't find Mitsy?'

‘That won't be an issue now,' I told her.

Her face lit up when she saw what I was holding. She jumped to her feet and hugged me, and we did a little dance on the spot, doing our best to ignore the fact that locating the mouse had only solved one of our problems.

Terry had said she'd do the test on Friday morning, but she'd already taken off for the early train when I got up.

‘It's a miracle,' said Dad.

‘It's unusual,' Mum corrected. ‘Let's not start talking miracles until they both tidy their rooms.'

I finally found her that evening, curled up on her bed.

‘You've been avoiding me.' She didn't deny it.

‘Did you do the test?' I demanded.

She refused to answer.

‘Terry, it feels like you're mad at me, and that's not fair. I'm only trying to help.'

‘I don't need your help.'

Funny the difference a few days can make. In the past I would have stormed out of the room, just as angry with her as she was with me. Tonight, I weathered her stormy mood. ‘We both know that's not true.'

Nothing.

‘Do you want me to wait with you while you do it now?'

Her voice trembled when she finally spoke. ‘I need more time. Just another day.'

I relented. ‘All right. But it has to be tomorrow, okay?'

I left her and went for a walk on the beach. It wasn't quite six, but it was almost dark. In a few weeks September would be here, bringing with it the frenzy of spring instead of the mellow calm of a Scottish autumn.

I'll never get used to reversed seasons. It's unnatural to have Christmas in summer. People should be snowed in on Christmas Day, huddling round a turkey for warmth, not picnicking in the sun, scoffing seafood.