Chapter Forty Seven

 October 2003

I walk to work through the park, past the squabbling geese, past the playground with the paddling pool and the sand. It's empty except for one woman and a little girl. The woman sticks her hands in the sand.

   'Handprints! Handprints! Handprints!' she says. The little girl laughs.

   I wonder if that will be me in a few years.

   The woman looks older than me, early thirties. A normal age to have a baby. No one has a baby at twenty three. Teenagers have babies. Thirty-somethings have babies.

   I get everything wrong.

   I have to tell people at work that I'm pregnant. I need time off for appointments. 

   'And after you told me you weren't pregnant,' says my supervisor.

   'I didn't know I was then.'

   'How can you not know you're pregnant?' 

   She thinks I'm stupid. Everyone thinks I'm stupid.

   I walk home in the dim evening light. I wish Steve wasn't the father of this baby. Anyone but Steve would have been better. I would even have preferred Nick or Adam in Sydney. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about their feelings about the baby. I could have just made my own decision without them ever knowing.

I email Steve and say, thinking logically, adoption would be best for the baby.

   But surely must know I'm not a logical person?

   Then it would be going to people who definitely wanted it. But I don't know how I'll feel when the baby is born.

   He replies, he agrees adoption would be best. I'm so young and this baby wasn't planned. But he understands I might change my mind and he'll be there for me whatever happens.

   

My twin brother, Oliver, has bought a teddy bear for the baby. It sits on the dresser in the dining room, watching me.

Lucy phones. 

   'Do you want to go out for drinks on Friday night?' she says.

   'There's a slight problem,' I say. 'I'm five months pregnant.'

   'Amy, I love you,' she says. 'I'm here for you.'

    I wish Steve had said that.

   'To be honest,' she says, 'we all thought you were. We were planning on forcing you to admit it.'

   'Oh.' I should have known. Nothing gets past Lucy.

   'But I was hoping you'd just laugh at us and say, "Of course I'm not pregnant," and it'd be obvious we'd made a mistake.'

   ''Fraid not.'

   'Look,' she says, 'Do you want to come out on Friday anyway, just to the local pub, for a chat?'

Friday night Lucy and I are sitting at a table in the corner. 

   'The whole time the midwife was asking questions,' I say, 'I kept expecting her to stop and say, "Wait a minute, this can't be right, you can't have a baby." I kept thinking why is she treating this like a normal pregnancy?'

   'I felt the same when I had Erin,' she says. 'So what does Steve think?'

   'He thinks the baby should be adopted.'

   'Is that what you want?'

   'I... I don't know what'll happen if I keep it. He says he'll be there, but what if he's just saying that? I don't want to end up with lots of children with different surnames.'

   It's an insensitive thing to say to Lucy. If she has more children they'll have different surnames to Erin. She doesn't pull me up on it.

   'But what if this is my only chance to have a child?' I say. 'What if me and Steve split up and I never get another boyfriend?'

   'So you want to keep the baby?'

   'I don't know.'

   'I hate Steve.'

   'I think if you'd been there when I'd met him you would have pulled me away from him.' I remember how Brandon tried. I should have listened to his warning.

   'Why do you think that?' 

   'Because he... You just would have.'

   'You know, you've got to think what you want, not just what he wants.'

   I shrug. I'm not sure if what I want is important. 

   'I told Ally, the girl at the pub the other day, that you were pregnant and she said, "Is it congratulations or commiserations?"'

   'I don't know.'

    We leave at closing time.

   'I can't believe you're pregnant,' she says as we part. 'My world is all askew.'