Spiralling Skywards: Fading (Contradictions, #2)(50)

I wasn’t stupid. I knew the risks but I honestly thought we wouldn’t get caught out.

“How far . . . When?”

“I’ll arrange an ultrasound. Would you like me to see if I can get it done now for you or would you rather come back?”

“Now, if you could please. Carter’s at school, and it’s easier with just the twins.”

“Well, it’s all about to get a lot more difficult. Perhaps after this, you may want to think about something more permanent, especially if it’s twins again.”

I stared at the letter opener on his desk, wondering how badly the red of his blood, would clash with the purple of his tie when I stabbed him in the throat with it.

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “We were always planning on having four or five, just not quite this close together.” It wasn’t completely a lie.

He made the call, and I had the scan. I was four weeks pregnant and due in November. Thankfully, it was just one baby, which was a bonus I supposed.

I spent the rest of the day in a daze. I didn’t remember collecting Carter from his playgroup, and I didn’t remember unbuckling him from his car seat or carrying the twins into the house.

I felt like the fog that surrounded me after the twins were born was back, and it was thicker than ever. I was already exhausted to a crippling degree and honestly didn’t know how I was going to survive another pregnancy. I worked on autopilot, making Carter some lunch and feeding the twins when they woke up.

Four children all under five . . . I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I sat at our dining room table and gave myself a little talking to. Our house was big, we had the room for another baby, but four would be it, no more. I could do this. What other option did I have? But this would, absolutely, most definitely be the last time.

I could just get my tubes tied when I had the C-section, but why did I have to be responsible for everything? Why should it always be left to me?

I jumped when my mobile rang and then ignored it when I saw it was Liam. He’d wanted to come to the appointment with me that morning, but they’d just found out they’d won the China contract and, once again, things were flat out at work.

If I picked up the phone, he would ask how I got on, and then I would have to tell him. I didn’t want to do that over the phone. I wanted him standing in front of me when I broke the news. He’d said repeatedly that he’d like at least one more, but would he be happy that we were getting one so soon? What if he wasn’t? Was termination an option? Would I be able to go through with something like that?

“Mum, can I have my books and some purples?” Carter’s little face appeared so close to mine that our noses were touching.

“I promise to be good with them.”

I pulled him up into my lap and then squeezed him tightly while raining kisses all over his face, making him chuckle.

“You can have your crayons but no pens.”

Carter had decided a few weeks ago that he wanted tattoos like David Beckham and the man in the butchers and had proceeded to draw up both of his arms. Pens of any kind were now to be kept permanently out of his reach.

“You like being a big brother, Carter?”

“Of course I do. It’s my job.”

“It’s your job, is it?”

“Yep.”

“You reckon we’ve got enough love to go around for one more baby?”

He frowned as if thinking about it for a while before shaking his head.

“No.”

“No? You don’t want just one more brother or sister?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you wasn’t there in the morning, and there was just G Ma and you didn’t come back for a long time and then Daddy found me and we all had to go to Nanna’s and I missed you.” He didn’t take a single breath as he spoke.

“Well, that wasn’t because of the babies. That was because Pops got sick and went to heaven.”

“Will someone else go to heaven if there’s more babies?”

“No, mate, that won’t happen.”

He wriggled out of my lap but remained standing in front of me, twisting from side to side.

“Would it be a brother or a sister bubby?”

“I don’t know yet, what would you like it to be?”

“A brother. I don’t like the sister ones.”

“Girls?”

“Yeah girls. Isabella at school, she’s a girl, and I don’t like her.”

“Why’s that?”

“Awww, she’s just horrible and calls me Carter the Farter.”

I struggled not to laugh.

“Ya know what, mate? I’ll tell you a secret about girls, shall I?”

He nodded.

“Girls are only mean to the boys who they like.”

He swung from side to side even faster as he thought about it.

“Nah, I still wanna brother one. Can I have my purples now?”

I set Carter up at his little play table with his colouring book and crayons, changed the twins’ nappies, and started dinner.

Despite a decidedly traumatic day, it all turned perfect when Liam’s arms slipped around me from behind.

“I’ve been calling you. Where’s your phone, pretty girl? You had me worried.”