an attitude of mind, a belief system. Look how George is suffering, how he so obviously loves Mabel and would do anything to have her back. Will he suddenly stop loving her if he discovers there is no biological connection between them? Of course not. He’ll be hurt and extremely angry with Amber for deceiving him, but that is a separate issue. Telling him the truth right now would only increase his suffering, and she’s not sure he can take any more – the poor guy’s already falling apart at the seams.
Amber loves George; she’s always loved him and has never wanted anyone else to be the father of her children. She started planning their family when she was a teenager – practising her married signature, making lists of baby names that went well with Walker. That was long before she knew anything about sperm counts or motility or ejaculation blockages.
Ironic that for years they used contraceptives and never once risked it. It was important to Amber that they did everything in the right order. She wanted to be married and have bought her own home. George needed to have a good, stable job. She wanted to reach a point in her own career where she could take maximum maternity leave without jeopardising her promotion prospects. Ideally, all these stars would align when she turned thirty. That age felt perfect for a first baby. Factoring in a sensible age gap, she would be thirty-three when she had their second and final child, keeping her well within range of being a senile gravida. She stopped taking the pill three months before her thirtieth birthday, during which time they used condoms. Then as soon as she hit the big three-zero, they set to work.
Amber was disappointed and a little surprised when she didn’t conceive in the first month. By the third, she was worried, even though everything she read on the internet told her she should just relax and have fun. Instead, she started taking her temperature and eating foods rich in vitamin B. After they made love, she stuck a pillow under her bottom and lay with her legs in the air for hours. Yet still her period arrived each month, with alarming regularity.
A new, frightening thought started to dawn on her. Could the problem be on George’s side? A small amount of googling told her that it definitely could. She went to see her doctor, who told her to come back in a year if they hadn’t conceived. But Amber didn’t want to wait a year; it would put her schedule out.
She tried talking to George, but he was very resistant to any suggestion that he might have fertility issues. He told her she was treating him like a mobile sperm bank and it put him off. When she gently mentioned that she was ovulating, he made excuses for not having sex, which made her feel angry with him for wasting her precious eggs. How were they ever going to conceive if he refused even to try? His pride was coming between them, and all the while, time was ticking by. At this rate, she would be thirty-two before baby number one arrived.
Months of trying came to nothing; she was feeling desperate and incredibly lonely. She secretly started to explore other options – sperm banks, donations from friends, motorbike deliveries, turkey basters – but rejected them all. George was supposed to be her baby’s father and only George would do.
Then that fateful evening happened. It wasn’t planned; she didn’t deliberately set out to cheat on her husband. The thought hadn’t occurred to her. Yes, they’d had a bad row about his refusal to engage with the issue, and yes, she was very upset and stressed and in need of comfort. And yes, yes, yes, she got very drunk and smoked weed, which she hadn’t done since uni because it made her feel out of control. It was wrong, it was a terrible betrayal on both their parts, and she should have stopped in her tracks, turned around and run away. But she didn’t, and she still doesn’t understand exactly why. Other forces were at work that night. For the first time in her life, she submitted to a deeper, darker side of herself and her body grabbed the opportunity. Poor George. He didn’t stand a chance.
As if summoned by her shameful thoughts, he suddenly walks into the room, mobile in hand. His eyes are wide and he’s looking very shaken.
‘Ruby