How To Save a Marriage in a Million (17 page)

BOOK: How To Save a Marriage in a Million
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Barbara was studying her intently.

‘You look pale.’

‘I’m okay, really I am.’

‘Not feeling a bit queasy, are you?’

‘No. Is there a bug going around that I don’t know about?’

Barbara smiled, got up to replace the charts in the trolley and patted her on the shoulder.

‘There’s always a bug going around in this place. It’s a hospital isn’t it?’

‘You’re not wrong, Barb.’ Another yawn threatened. Joanna picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. Barbara went over to the cooler and poured herself half a cup of water to swallow the blood-pressure tablet she always took at six o’clock. She stood silently for a minute or so, as if deep in thought.

‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ she finally asked.

Fat chance, in fact no chance at all.

It must have been her weariness, the culmination of a series of unusual events over the last week, and she knew she should be laughing at Barb’s well-intentioned inquiry.

Joanna looked over at Barbara.

‘No, I’m not pregnant.’ She had to work hard at stopping her voice from shaking.

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Anatomically impossible, I’m afraid,’ Joanna, the clinical, rational nurse managed to say in a rock-steady voice. ‘My tubes are blocked. I had a ruptured appendix when I was sixteen…’

‘Oh, Jo, I honestly didn’t know.’

‘Of course you didn’t. I don’t go broadcasting…’ Then Joanna burst into tears and couldn’t stop sobbing. Barbara wrapped her arms around her.

‘You poor love. I insist you go home and I’ll arrange a taxi. You can’t stay here like this.’

Joanna didn’t have the energy to protest.

* * *

A good, solid, uninterrupted nine hours’ sleep made all the difference to how Joanna felt. It was as if she’d been born again and the events of the morning hadn’t happened, or at least had diminished to a hazy, distant blur.

Her only problem was that she had slept so well during the day she was unlikely to sleep that night. She knew she should have set her alarm to help her inbuilt rhythm restore itself but with all that
had happened, she’d forgotten—and it wasn’t the end of the world.

She gathered clean underwear, the new peach-coloured towelling robe she’d treated herself to the previous week and headed to the bathroom. The cake of hand-made apple and almond soap she hadn’t been able to resist at the market smelled delicious and almost edible. She felt she had not a care in the world.

It was a warm evening so, after her shower, she dressed in casual knee-length shorts and a T-shirt and actually ran a comb through her centimetre-long hair. It made little difference, though. Her hair refused to be persuaded to do anything but stick up at a right angle to her scalp.

After fortifying herself with a good strong cup of tea, she decided to go for a walk. She felt she needed an extra-strong dose of fresh air after a month of working nights and sleeping for three quarters of the day. She hoped an hour or so of exercise would help her sleep at least a few hours that night, although it usually took a couple of days for her normal diurnal rhythm to get back to normal. She also decided to pick up some take-away on the way back. Putting a twenty-dollar
note in her pocket, she grabbed her broad-brimmed hat and strode out of her little house. She followed the quaint, brick-paved laneway that fronted the property to the main road and then headed for the park a couple of blocks away.

Joanna started off walking at a fairly brisk pace but began to tire by the time she reached the park so she slowed down. The sun was sinking lower and a gentle breeze cooled the early evening air. She enjoyed strolling along the path that circled a haphazard string of pools and small lakes. She smiled at a middle-aged man who was being dragged along by a boisterous young German shepherd, and stopped to chat briefly to a couple proudly pushing tiny twins in a contraption that looked like it was ready to take off for outer space.

‘They’re beautiful,’ Joanna said as she leaned forward to take a closer look at the sleeping babies, both dressed in white. ‘Are they boys, girls or one of each?’

‘Girls, only a month old,’ was all the beaming father managed to say before his wife interrupted.

‘And they’re not identical,’ the young mum said.

‘They look very similar.’ In fact, it was difficult
for Jo to tell them apart. Her heart swelled for the couple. ‘What are their names?’

‘Emily and Victoria, after their grandmothers.’

A tiny splinter of jealousy niggled in Joanna’s mind but she dismissed the thought quickly. She’d long ago accepted that motherhood wasn’t going to be part of her life again.

‘I’ll let you get on with your stroll.’

The woman linked her arm in her husband’s. They set off in the opposite direction and, from that instant, Joanna’s mood subtly changed. She couldn’t help thinking of Richard and his declaration of love. Had he fully thought things through? If they
did
manage to resurrect their marriage, would there always be something missing? Richard was physically able to father a child but had told her it didn’t matter to him if their future didn’t include children. But Joanna couldn’t help wondering if she’d feel guilty for depriving him of something she knew was important to him.

And she couldn’t cope with IVF. Not now. The journey would be too painful for her and she knew the failure rate was relatively high.

And what if she did become pregnant? She wasn’t sure she’d be able to go through a pregnancy
that might end in a miscarriage or stillbirth or, even worse, result in a living, breathing perfect child that was taken from them…

She couldn’t do it.

By the time she’d walked two circuits of the park she was tiring again. Her heart thudded in her chest, queasiness niggled in her stomach and she’d lost her appetite. She was now feeling tense halfway through a walk that was supposed to relax and energise her. Suddenly she felt light-headed and looked around for a seat. There was a park bench at the water’s edge, a few metres away. When she reached it her legs felt like jelly as she sank onto the seat.

What was wrong? Was she having some kind of anxiety attack?

She’d never had one before.

She took a few slow, deep breaths but it didn’t make much difference.

The only time in her life she’d felt anything like this had been when she’d been pregnant with Sam.

Pregnant with Sam…

Pregnant.

Could she be?

No, of course she couldn’t. She’d had tests and
she was infertile. She and Richard had never used contraception because there’d been no point.

But…

She’d managed to fall pregnant at age nineteen, against all the odds.

Her heart was now pounding and her head ached but she needed to start thinking rationally or her outlandish suppositions would consume her.

When was her last period? She never kept a record because there’d been no need but she knew her cycle was regular. And it had been a while, certainly before she’d started working nights. She racked her brain and then recalled her last period had been around the time Richard had started at Lady Lawler.

She did the calculations.

Oh, my God.

She and Richard had made love about two weeks later and she hadn’t had a period since. Which had been well over a month ago.

‘So if I’m pregnant, I’d be six or seven weeks,’ she whispered, not quite believing what her mind and body were telling her.

But how unlikely was that?

The odds were stacked so heavily against her…
A nervous laugh surfaced from somewhere deep in her throat.

More slow breaths.

She fingered the twenty-dollar note in her pocket. There was a late-opening pharmacy on her way home. If she was to get any sleep that night she had to know.

* * *

The pharmacist, the only person in attendance in the small shop, was a dark-skinned man, who looked several years younger than her. There were a number of people waiting to be served and an elderly couple, who were trying out walking sticks, took up most of the central aisle space. Joanna heard the young man explain to the woman at the head of the queue that his assistant had had a family emergency and had to leave. He was waiting for her replacement. He looked harassed and Joanna began to have second thoughts.

But she had to know.

As soon as was practically possible.

Once she’d confirmed that the test was negative she’d be able to relax and the troublesome symptoms of her uncertainty would go away.

She decided to wait and, after ten, long, agonising minutes, her turn came.

‘Yes, what can I do for you?’ To his credit the pharmacist attempted a smile.

‘I want a home pregnancy test kit.’

‘Dip or stream?’

‘Pardon?’ What on earth did he mean? Despite her nursing background, she had no idea what he was talking about.

He lowered his voice. ‘Do you want to dip into a specimen cup or just pee on the stick?’

Joanna was acutely aware that the other occupants of the shop could hear every word. She felt the heat rise to her neck and was glad she hadn’t removed her hat.

‘Whichever is most accurate…’ She had a quick thought. She had no idea how much the tests cost. ‘And costs less than twenty dollars.’

A look of sympathy crossed the man’s face but it didn’t change the fact he still looked about eighteen to Joanna.

The man glanced behind her as if reminding her there were other people waiting, but she’d got this far and she wasn’t going to chicken out now.

‘It depends on how far along you are.’ The guy
was assuming she
was
pregnant and it unsettled her even more.

‘Um…’ The conversation was turning into an ordeal. ‘About six weeks, I think.’

‘They’re all between ninety-five and ninety-nine per cent accurate at that stage.’ To her relief the inquisition stopped and he moved to scan a shelf to one side of the counter. He selected a couple of boxes.

‘This is a popular one. Easy to use and to read. You can buy it in a single pack for seven ninety-five or in the double for fifteen dollars.

She handed him the money. ‘I’ll take the double.’

At that moment, a middle-aged woman in a pale blue uniform burst into the shop with a flurry.

‘I can take over now, Ramesh. I’m sure you have some scripts to do.’

The pharmacist, looking relieved, nodded as the assistant took the twenty-dollar note from one hand and the test kit from the other. He made his way onto the platform overlooking the shop, where the prescriptions were made up. The woman glanced at the box and then at Joanna.

‘Just this?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

The woman completed the transaction, placed the purchase in a small paper bag and handed it to Joanna with her change.

Joanna nearly bowled over a wandering toddler as she left and had never been more relieved in her life to get out of a shop.

Twenty minutes later she was standing in her kitchen, ripping off the packaging of the pregnancy test kit. She unfolded the instructions and spread the single sheet of paper on the bench. Words blurred in and out of focus.

‘Concentrate!’ she muttered. ‘You don’t want to stuff this up.’

She read the instructions.

Absorbent tip pointing downward…

…urine stream for five seconds…

Wait three minutes before reading results…

TWO PINK LINES…

Her gaze shifted from the diagram that showed the two lines to the one next to it.

NOT PREGNANT, ONE PINK LINE.

That was the result she was expecting and the instructions seemed simple enough. She took the test stick into the bathroom and when she finally stopped shaking managed to pee on the stick.

The next three minutes were the longest three minutes of her life.

She sat on the toilet lid with the tester in her right hand and her eyes fixed on the second hand of her watch on the other wrist. She decided not to look at the result until the time was up because she felt sure she would imagine lines and confuse herself.

‘Ten, nine, eight…’ She began a countdown back to zero and when she reached five her hand began to shake. ‘Zero.’

Her eyes moved to the results window as she tried to steady her hand.

Right.

She focused.

Two pink lines. Yes, definitely two, so if the test was accurate she was pregnant with Richard’s child.

Tears of happiness filled her eyes and vibrant warmth suffused her whole body.

She was pregnant with Richard’s child.

Oh, dear God, what was she going to do?

A moment later all her fears descended on her like a landslide and she began to weep.

* * *

Richard was looking forward to the Tuesday morning ward round because Joanna was back on day shift. He’d missed her smiling face, her common-sense suggestions and her ability to make even the most despondent child laugh. He’d tried to contact her a couple of times on the weekend, hoping to meet up, maybe go on a picnic, but she hadn’t answered her phone. Although he’d been disappointed, he didn’t want to be pushy. At the last concert rehearsal they’d attended together just over a week ago, she’d seemed exhausted and she’d probably wanted a peaceful weekend to get her energy back.

When he entered Matilda Ward at just after eight o’clock, there was no sign of Joanna. Lynne had the trolley with all the patient notes ready, but was on the phone. She waved and mouthed the words, ‘Won’t be long.’

Richard nodded and used the time by having a quick look at Danny Sims’s latest scan. He smiled. The bulk of his tumour had reduced by roughly twenty per cent, which was more than anyone had hoped for in such a short time. If he continued to respond so well to his chemotherapy, there was a good chance his prognosis would improve. A
full remission was too much to hope for at this stage but it at least put a positive outcome for his treatment in the realms of possibility.

Lynne hung up the phone and summoned the student nurse, Tracey, to the nurses’ station.

‘Good morning, Richard,’ the charge nurse said with a cheerful smile. ‘Do you mind if Tracey comes with us on the round this morning?’

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