Page 67 of Tears of Gold

“But I can’t wait until next week. I need to see Dr Vernon now.”

I can’t explain to the lady with the bad perm that I have to know now. I can’t wait a week to discover if the reason I am feeling so much better is because the lentil is no longer beating its heart within me.

I can’t explain anything apart from the awful thumping sense of doom I have hanging over my head.

The door with Dr Vernon’s name engraved on a silver sign and slotted into a changeable holder opens and the woman herself pokes her head outside, sandwich packet in her hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a scene.” My cheeks burn and the booming pound of my heart I’ve had since I left the flat thuds in my ears. “I just really need to see you.” I wipe at my face and try to hide the tears gathering on my lashes.

“Faith?” She beckons me over and I walk to her door, my legs trembling. “I’ve finished consultations for the day, but come in, I was doing paperwork.”

She motions to a seat which I fall into with little control.

“What’s going on?” She fits her half-eaten sandwich back in the box and pushes it across the desk. See, even the sight of a half-eaten sandwich isn’t making me ill. It’s bad news. I can feel it in my heart.

“I think I’m going to have a miscarriage.” I study my fingers, picking at a loose bit of skin around a nail.

“And why do you think that?” Her voice is soft and reassuring—but of course it is, she does this for a living. She must break bad news to people on a daily basis.

“I was talking to Elijah’s sister and she had a miscarriage a good few weeks ago and she said all her symptoms disappeared a couple of days beforehand.” My words blurt out, tumbling over one another.

Dr Vernon nods understandingly. “But hormones fluctuate constantly in pregnancy. It’s the hormones that make you feel ill. Had Elijah’s sister got to nearly nine weeks?”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t ask.

“Faith, when you were in here yesterday, I noticed you seemed very uncomfortable. I planned to ask you at your next appointment.”

“How so?” I ask, but I know what she is talking about. It was obvious to all of us in the room that I had issues with relaxing and being touched.

“The way you reacted on the table.” She motions to the bed I laid on. “It is what I would call a safeguarding flag. I would consider reactions like that as those of someone who was in an abusive relationship.”

“Oh, God. No!” My cheeks flame a scorching burn. “No, Eli and I, we are perfect.”

“And the baby was planned?”

“Well, no.” I straighten my back. “But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Some women feel pressure from their partners to continue a pregnancy.”

“No, not at all. I don’t feel any pressure.” Her words twist my stomach.

She sighs and her gaze searches my face.

“I had a traumatic childhood,” I say eventually. I’d rather she knows that than thinks Eli is hurting me somehow.

She nods. “Okay, but you know having a baby is not a private experience. Not all your scans will be as invasive as yesterday’s, but at the birth, before the birth, people will be touching you. It’s something you need to consider.”

I hadn’t even thought about it. It hadn’t crossed my mind.

“Is Elijah the only man you’ve been with since you’ve been an adult? It might be worth considering some counselling to help you get things more settled.”

“No.” I shake my head. Here is one of the biggest ironies of my life. “I just like to be in control, and I guess yesterday I wasn’t.” I breathe out a blast of air. This conversation seems entirely unnecessary. “Anyway, I probably won’t have to worry will I if there is no baby.”

“Come on, let’s put your mind at ease.” She shoots me a stern look. “I don’t do this all the time, so please don’t come here every week expecting the same, but I can see you are clearly distressed and that really isn’t good for early pregnancy.”

I jump up and walk over to the bed. When she tells me to tuck my heels in and lower my knees, I force myself not to react, counting in my head and keeping my attention focused on the screen.

There it is. The flicker. The little squashed shape. The heartbeat strong and very much alive.