“What?” She sounded as amazed as I felt. “But . . . how?”
I laughed, then, choking on my tears. “The usual way.”
“That’s incredible! Congratulations! Oh, Emma, this is the best news ever.” I heard her call to someone, “Can I see you before I go?”
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” I swallowed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Something I’m really worried about.”
“Oh my God,” she interrupted. “Pregnant! That means I’m going to be an aunt! Izzy and May will have a cousin! They’ll be so excited.”
“Listen,” I said. “I need to talk to you. Can we meet up tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “And then we can . . . Oh no, hold on a second.” I could hear her talking to someone. “I’ve got to go. Amy needs to talk to me.”
“Jane,” I said urgently. “Harry doesn’t know yet.”
But she’d gone.
CHAPTER 31
Emma
Of course you can guess what happened.
I was sitting in the living room just after seven that night when Harry’s car turned into our driveway. My stomach dropped at the thought of the secret I was going to have to keep from him for weeks, if not forever. My skin was clammy and I wasn’t sure whether that was from the sickness or from the dread that I felt when his car door slammed. Then I heard the front door open and he called, “Hello?” Usually I would go out to him, greet him with a kiss and a smile, but how could I do that tonight?
And then he appeared in the doorway with the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen. He could hardly fit through the door. They were peonies, my favorite, and their white and pink flowers filled the room with their scent. Just one glance at him and I knew that he knew. I sighed. My sister. She’d never been able to keep anything to herself. Harry’s face was flushed and he looked so happy.
“Congratulations!” he said.
I tried to smile. “Congratulations?”
He laughed and put the flowers on the table. “Yes, congratulations! Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean!”
“Jane,” I said. “You’ve been talking to Jane.”
He came over to hug me. “She thought I knew. But when did you find out?”
“This morning.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
I winced as I remembered my immediate reaction to my pregnancy was to search for DNA tests, trying desperately to find one that would give a quicker result, and deleting my search history in case he saw it. I’d had no intention of telling him until I knew who the father was. I smiled at him, knowing whatever I did, whatever I said, I was a traitor, and if ever I was found out, he’d remember this conversation for the rest of his life.
“I wanted to tell you face-to-face,” I said. “It’s . . . it’s such big news. There’s a lot to take in.”
“Oh, Emma.” He held me to him, too tightly really, and it was as though he was saying everything in that hug. “We’re going to have a baby!”
How could I possibly tell him that the baby might not be his? Probably wasn’t his. Almost certainly wasn’t his. His face was flushed with pride, but there was something else there, too. It was guilt.
I recognized it, you see, because I’d seen it on my own face.
* * *
? ? ?
The flowers were a waste, because the next thing he said was, “Let’s get away.”
I pulled away from him. “What?”
“Let’s just get out of here for a few days. A week or so. Or two, even. Let’s just hide ourselves away.”
“Two weeks! I can’t do that. What about work?”
“One week, then. You haven’t got a lot on at the moment, have you?”
“No, but . . .”
“Tell Annie you need some time off.”
I started to laugh. “Just like that?” My mind raced through the projects we had on. We’d just finished