Together Apart (18 page)

28.

A
dam drove on autopilot. He barely even registered where he was or where he was going. It didn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t stay in the flat a minute longer. She’d thrown the news about her being pregnant at him with such force and then clammed up straight away. After reading her diaries, it was obvious she could be open when she chose to be, which meant that she was deliberately holding back. Again.

He focused on the rhythmic sounds in the car – the windscreen wipers swishing back and forth and the ticking of the
indicator
– anything to keep him from thinking about the mess he’d left behind. He drove past a sign showing a turning for Cockfosters and switched his turn signal on, indicating to take it. Matt didn’t live far away. He didn’t want to tell him about the baby – there was no point since Sarah was so hell-bent on getting rid of it – but he needed some company, and Jenny and Carl were too caustic for him to deal with today.

Ten minutes later, he stepped through Matt’s front door. He’d called on the way, and luckily Matt was home. Adam had always thought the reason why Matt rarely had people at his house was because he preferred to go out himself to escape for a while. Matt would always say it was too chaotic, but whenever Adam would walk through the house bearing gifts for his goddaughter, he’d wonder what all the fuss was about. Everything was always neat and tidy, and Molly was always clean and nicely dressed. Stopping by unannounced shattered that illusion.

Adam looked at the debris around him. How could anyone live like this? The floor was littered with multicoloured, plastic building blocks, and a seemingly endless number of dolls were scattered on the sofa. Sticky handprints covered the coffee table, and as he plucked a handful of dolls from the sofa to sit down, a tiny hand was thrust into his face, offering up squashed banana.

‘Um, thanks.’ Adam grimaced as Molly’s plump hand deposited the slimy pieces of banana into his.

‘Oh, that’s rank,’ Matt laughed, coming from the kitchen with a beaker full of juice and two cans of Coke. He handed Adam a pack of baby wipes. ‘She does that all the time. Chews her food, spits it out and then hands it to you like it’s a present. It’s her ne
w thing.’

Adam pulled out a wipe, scooped up the banana and
grinned. ‘Fu
ll of class, that one. Clearly she takes after you. How’s things?’

‘Same old. Trying to have a relaxing Sunday, but it’s not really working.’

‘I can come back another time? I don’t want to interrupt.’

‘What? Don’t be silly. It’s a pipe dream. There’s no such thing as a relaxing Sunday for me anymore.’ Matt raised his voice slightly above the noise of Molly singing and banging her toys together. ‘What about you? Carl texted about your dad. How is he?’

‘He’s fine. He just has to manage his diet better, that kind of thing. The main thing is that he’s okay.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. He was always like a dad to all of us, your old man.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘How are things with Sarah?’

Adam took a deep breath. It was such a loaded question that it almost made his head physically hurt, especially since he didn’t really know how to answer it.

‘That bad, huh?’ Matt said with a raised eyebrow. Clearly, Adam’s silence spoke volumes.

‘That bad,’ Adam confirmed with a nod.

Matt picked up Molly as she tried to climb on his knee. ‘Is she still giving you the cold shoulder?’

‘The cold shoulder I could almost deal with. Now it’s like Jack Frost has taken up permanent residence in the flat.’

‘You’re a better man than me. There’s no way I could put up with that.’ Matt moved his head to dodge the fingers trying to work their way up his nose. ‘Molly, will you stop it?’

Adam couldn’t help but smile as Molly laughed when Matt held her arms down. ‘I suppose, but it’s not going to be forever.’

Molly started to whimper, clearly frustrated at not being able to wriggle around freely, and seconds later the piercing sound of her crying filled the room. Matt put her down on the floor, and Adam winced at the screams bouncing off the walls. He looked at Molly, throwing her toys around, wailing at the top of her voice, before looking back at Matt. Christ, how did he cope?

‘Is she all right?’

Matt waved his hand. ‘She’s fine. Just having a tantrum.’

He silently begged Molly to stop. It was so jarring that he couldn’t concentrate on anything. It was like white noise. No way could he deal with that on a daily basis.

‘What’s wrong now?’ Alice’s voice floated down the stairs, swiftly followed by her appearing in the doorway, holding a towel in her hands.

‘She’s fine,’ Matt said. Adam looked at Molly’s red, tear-stained cheeks. She looked anything but, but who was he to judge?

Alice smirked. ‘Yes, it looks like it. How are you, Adam?’

‘I’m good, Alice. You?’ Adam replied, standing up to kiss her cheek.

‘Super, apart from having to sacrifice a nice soak in the bath to rescue my lovely fiancé from our terror of a daughter,’ Alice said, playfully shoving Matt.

Matt rolled his eyes. ‘I had it under control.’

‘Looks like it.’ Alice crouched down to pick up Molly, enveloping her in a hug, and blew raspberries into her neck. ‘Come on, you cheeky monkey. Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll leave you boys to it. Nice to see you again, Adam.’

‘I’ll pay for that later,’ Matt said, shaking his head.

‘Looks like hard work,’ Adam said.

Matt bent down to clear some of the toys away and groaned. ‘You have no idea. You should count yourself lucky you only have yourself to think about.’

‘It is worth it, though, right?’ Adam kept his voice neutral. He didn’t want to sound like he was fishing for advice, which of course he was.

‘Of course. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there are times when I just want to walk out the door and never come back.’ Matt threw the toys into a wicker basket and flicked the lid down. ‘When she plays up like that, it’s enough to drive me round the bend,
but th
e tantrums, the noise and sleepless nights . . . They’re worth it in t
he en
d. She’s amazing.’

Adam looked at Matt’s proud smile. It nearly leapt off his face.

‘So when’s the next one coming?’

‘I didn’t say I was crazy now, did I?’ Matt laughed. ‘I dunno. Alice wants another, but we’ll see. Nothing’s doing until Molly’s a little older, in any case.’

‘Yeah, she must keep you busy.’

‘Just a bit. But I wouldn’t change anything, and when I think back to how I felt when I found out Alice was pregnant, I honestly can’t remember what all the fuss was about.’

Adam nodded. ‘Yeah I remember. You were so worried about being tied down and losing your independence. Look at you now, Mr Family Man.’

‘Tell me about it. Mortgage, kid, fiancée, hatchback – who’d have thought it?’ Matt shrugged. ‘There comes a time when we all have to grow up.’

‘I guess.’

‘I always thought you and Sarah would sort things out. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’

Adam shrugged. ‘I asked her to marry me, and she broke up with me. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so tragic.’

‘Maybe you just shocked her. I mean, look at me. I was
crapping
myself at the idea of really settling down with Alice, even after three years. It’s a huge step to get married. Maybe she just isn’t ready yet.’

‘Yeah, I thought that too at first, but I don’t think it’s that simple. It doesn’t really matter now, anyway. It is what it is.’

Now that Adam knew Sarah was pregnant, his proposal was almost irrelevant, because even if he’d kept his mouth shut, they would still be in the same situation. She would still be pregnant, and she would probably still want an abortion. The look on Matt’s face when he spoke about Molly and his proud megawatt smile had only helped convince Adam that he wanted this baby, or the option of having it, at least. He’d proposed, but in reality, he’d have been happy to be with her, without needing to get married. Now, he
had nothing.

It was past midnight by the time he got back home, and he assumed Sarah was asleep, but as soon as he sat on the bed, he heard a knock on the door.

‘Adam?’

He looked up at the sound of Sarah’s muffled voice through the door. What was she going to shock him with now?

He sat up on the bed. ‘Come in.’

Sarah opened the door, tentatively stepped inside and closed it behind her. He crossed his legs to make space for her to sit, but she stayed where she was, standing with her back pressed against the door.

‘I just wanted to apologise.’ Her voice was small, and she kept her eyes on the floor. ‘I was out of order earlier, when I said that the baby wasn’t anything to do with you. I didn’t mean it to sound how it did. What I meant was that I didn’t make the decision not to
keep it
because of you.’

‘I know. And I’m sorry for storming out like that. I just needed some space.’

Her shoulders dropped a fraction. If only he could say that he wanted her to keep the baby. He wasn’t stupid; children were for life. He’d never be able to hand it back, and it would change both of their lives forever. Their relationship, if he could call it that, was in no fit state to bear the responsibility of a child. The idea of living on a daily basis with the noise and mess he’d caught a glimpse of at Matt’s still made his stomach flip, but even so, the idea of her having an abortion?

Maybe it would have been better if she hadn’t told him. It would have been an unspeakable thing for her to do, and in reality, chances were he’d never have been able to forgive her if she’d had an abortion without telling him first, but at least he wouldn’t be sitting there, looking at her belly and thinking about the baby he’d never get to meet.

‘Thanks.’ Sarah paused as if there was more she wanted to say, and the tension of unspoken words was so present, he could almost feel the air crackling. ‘I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I really do wish things could be different.’

‘It is what it is. It’s not like anything’s going to change, is it? I mean, you’re still going through with the abortion, right?’

‘You make it sound like I have a choice.’

‘It’s not like anyone’s forcing you into it.’

Making peace felt like a woolly notion at best. Too much had happened. Their situation was so abnormal that the usual lines of a break-up had been blurred. They still shared the same flat, the same kitchen, the same toilet paper – everything. Up until a few days ago, they’d practically ignored each other. He’d had enough of feeling awkward in his own home. Sarah’s aura of depression and secrecy had seeped through the flat, clinging to everything. It intertwined with every scrap of fabric and nestled in every corner of every room. It penetrated everything it touched.

When was the last time he’d heard her laugh? Santorini, probably, but he couldn’t remember it. The disastrous last night had completely overshadowed the nine happy days they’d spent there. No matter how hard he tried, all he saw when he thought about Santorini was how she’d turned him down.

‘I’ve decided to go up to Sheffield. There’s a memorial service for Richard on Saturday, and I’d like to go.’

He nodded. So, she was going back home. Maybe she’d see her family.

‘I can take you, if you want.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to do that. It’s fine – I’ll take the train,’ she said.

‘No, I want to.’

She frowned at him. ‘Why?’

Adam shrugged. He wasn’t entirely sure. He had no idea why he’d volunteered, but he had a feeling it had something to do with what Claire had said, about things pushing her to the breaking point. Everything was going to have to come to a head sooner or later. Maybe being back in Sheffield would help her get rid of whatever it was she was holding onto, and if it did, he wanted to be there when it happened.

‘Do you really want to go on your own?’

She shook her head, and he shrugged again.

‘So I’ll take you.’

She gave him another small smile. ‘Thanks.’

‘And listen.’ Adam cleared his throat. ‘I’ll support you whatever decision you make. You know that, right?’

She nodded. ‘I know. And I’m really glad your dad’s okay.’

She left the room and Adam sighed, lying back down on the bed. The words had felt like acid on his tongue. He always went with his instincts, and they were screaming at him to convince her to keep the baby, but it wasn’t his decision to make. Despite everything, he still loved her, and that meant wanting her to be happy. It was obvious that this baby would bring her the complete opposite, and it would hardly be fair to bring a baby into their messed-up situation. It would be easier on both of them if he just went along with what she wanted.

29.

9 November

W
e’re leaving for Sheffield in the morning. I was surprised that Adam offered to take me, but I guess my finally opening up to him has thawed things out a
little
, even if I haven’t been able to tell him why I can’t keep the baby. He looks at me differently, and it’s harder for me to gauge what he’s thinking. I don’t want him to feel duty-bound to take me just because I’m pregnant, but I can’t deny I’m relieved he’ll be there with
me. I do
n’t want him to see all the crap I left behind, but I know I have to go.

Every time I think about it, my heart aches. I don’t know what to expect at the memorial. The only funeral I’ve been to before was Dad’s, and it was horrific. Seeing his coffin being lowered into the ground was like being engulfed by a deep black hole. I know it’s a memorial service, so it won’t be quite the same, but even so, I loved Richard. I loved Dad, of course, but it was obviously a different type of love. With Richard, my feelings were intense and raw, from the moment I met him until months after he left. It was fierce and all consuming. I remember how my skin used to burn when he touched me, how my heart would skip a beat when he looked at me. It was pure, heady teenage love.

I still can’t believe he’s dead. It’s so strangely abstract. He was the boy I gave my virginity to. The boy who broke my heart by moving thousands of miles away and who impacted my life far more than he could ever possibly have known. The idea of him lying six feet underground is one I can’t get my head around, but the fact is, I have unfinished business with him. If there’s one thing I’ve come to realise in the last few days, it’s that life is too short, whether it lasts forty-one years like my dad’s or eight weeks like the baby I’ve just lost. It has to count for something.

I spent all of last night rereading my diaries from start to finish. For the last fifteen years, I’ve lived with this feeling of guilt and regret, but not once did I ever do anything about it. As I read them, all I could think was, what had taken me so long? What had stopped me from trying to locate him? I could have found him in minutes on Facebook. I could have contacted him if I really, really wanted to. Just like I could have been honest with Adam instead of hurting him. Now Richard will never know, and the guilt will never go away.

I have no one to blame but myself. If I’d told him, or my mum, or anyone what happened then, I might not be feeling this way now. I might have been more upfront with Adam to begin with. I might have been able to keep this baby and be happy instead of destroying everything around me like a nuclear bomb. Instead, I’ve written things down in bloody diaries that can’t speak back.

I’ve been a coward. There’s no other word for it. And it has to stop. I have to tell Adam. Even if he’s moved on already, even if he doesn’t love me, he deserves to be happy. I meant what I said to him last night. I don’t want to fight with him anymore. Even after everything, he’s still helping me out. I need to be honest with him. I owe him that much.