Her Perfect Family(46)

Over-think things.

I tried to put the house out of my mind but when ‘S’ didn’t answer my texts, I couldn’t help myself. I started to look on Google Earth more and more. I started to fantasise. To imagine us in a red-brick house with our baby. I started to tell myself that, yes, ‘S’ would be a little shocked when he found out about the pregnancy, but ultimately he would be supportive. Surely. He’s a nice guy. One of the good guys. He cares about me. That’s what I expected deep down; that we would work out a way to be together and for me to get my career going after settling the baby into our new lives.

When he still didn’t answer my texts, I began to panic because I need to know how he feels about the baby before I make any decisions. I can’t talk to Maddy or Mum or anyone still because ‘S’ will lose his job and Mum just won’t be able to cope and so in the end I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t see any other choice. ‘S’ still wasn’t on campus so I decided to make a trip.

I took the bus and used Google Maps on my phone to find his street. He’s never given me his home address but, as I say, I found him on the electoral register. I don’t know what I expected exactly – either to feel or to actually do. I certainly wasn’t planning to walk up to his door or anything stupid like that. I just needed to be near him and maybe I hoped that he would catch sight of me at least and that would trigger him to contact me.

What a mistake. It was all so horrible.

I turned up mid-afternoon and I hid behind a bus stop on the other side of the street. I spotted his car in the drive and I could see right into the driveway with a clear view of the porch. A part of me was a bit worried that he might see me and be really cross but I didn’t approach the house or anything stupid. I was hoping that if he did see me, he would just get in touch and we could sort everything out. That I would be able to explain it was the only way I could let him know that I needed to speak to him. Urgently.

And then the front door opened. She came out of the house ahead of him and it was such a shock. She was so much younger than I expected. And so pretty. She was carrying a picnic basket which at first partly blocked my view of her. Her long hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing sunglasses. The thing is she just looked so glamorous, so confident and so at ease. I had this picture in my head of her being some kind of mess – that’s the way ‘S’ describes her – so it didn’t fit. ‘S’ followed straight behind her, closing the porch door, and then came the next and even bigger shock. She put the picnic basket into the boot of his car and when she turned, I could see her properly. Her stomach. The bump. Not huge – maybe five or six months. I don’t really know but it was like a physical blow. And then before they moved to get into the car, ‘S’ took her into his arms really tenderly. He pushed her sunglasses up on to the top of her head and kissed her on the mouth. Not just a peck. Not just a duty kiss but a really tender and proper kiss. Like the kisses he gives me.

I was dumbfounded. Anchored to the spot behind the bus stop. I was so shaken, I very nearly stepped out to make sure that he would see me and know that I had seen this.

They embraced for quite a while. He put his hand on her bump and she stroked his back – the very bottom of his spine – and tucked one of her thumbs into the back of his jean belt while he brushed the hair back from her forehead and kissed her again. And I just couldn’t believe it. That I had let myself be so completely tricked. Such an idiot. That this was not a man who was living separately from his mess of a wife. This was not a man who was trying to leave his wife at all. This was a man who was having a baby with his wife.

As they separated and he took his place in the driver’s seat and she moved round to the passenger seat, I leaned back against the bus stop and felt more shaken and more alone than I can ever remember.

As I keep saying, I haven’t told anyone about the pregnancy because I just can’t confide in anyone about ‘S’. And now I have no one to talk to at all. No one to tell how truly stupid I’ve been.

Only now, much too late, do I realise what a cliché this is. I’ve been taken in by a player. A snake. And I feel too stupid to begin to know what to do next.

Since I got back to the flat, I’ve paced and cried and paced and cried. I’ve picked up my phone and thought about calling home; telling Mum that I need her to come and pick me up. But I just don’t have the courage to dial. I can’t do that to her.

So all I’ve done in the practical sense is get back in touch with the clinic to make a new appointment to go over my options. How many weeks I have left to make a decision about what on earth to do.

I’m just hoping and praying that I can get my degree finished and get through graduation before I have to make the call. Break both my parents’ hearts.

And now, sitting here, I’m shocked at how angry I feel. Like I could hit something. Like I want justice. Revenge?

A part of me wants to find out the number and phone ‘S’’s wife. To let her know exactly what her husband’s really like.

But guess what’s happened to top it all? A new DM on Facebook.

He’s not who he says he is . . .

That’s the message. From a new ‘friend’ I don’t even remember accepting.

It’s made a shiver go right through me. I suppose it could be ‘A’ hacking me again but it’s as if someone has read my thoughts.