45

GRACE

It was my last day at the cookery school. I hadn’t thought it would be when I woke up. I was still signed up for another few weeks. I presumed I would see it through to the end and then afterwards, Jenny and I would spend more time with one another. Both of us with our new babies, and our newfound culinary knowledge. We had so much potential.

But she had fooled me. Pretended that she was going to confide in me and then changed her mind at the last minute. That wasn’t what friends did. They told each other everything. Why didn’t Jenny see me as a friend any more? I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve that.

I approached her with my concerns that morning.

‘I’m sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to alarm you, it’s just… well, you see, it’s very complicated and I…’ but Jenny couldn’t finish her sentence. She was suddenly weeping, quite obviously and others were turning to look. I didn’t want anyone else to come over and invade what we had. Jenny was on the verge of telling me what was going on. I needed her to tell me. To cement our friendship. She had to confide in me, and who knew, maybe I would reciprocate. Having never had that bond with another woman before. It was starting to feel like a friendship should feel.

‘I’m sorry, Grace, I really am. You must consider me a total fool. I am afraid I haven’t been straight with you because, well, my life is incredibly complex and well I just don’t even know where to start. But I should enlighten you because you’re nice, Grace. A real genuine person, I can tell.’

I smiled sheepishly and lowered my head as inside I felt my heart thump a little harder, swelling at the compliment. I touched my belly and looked at Jenny, waiting and wanting to know more.

Nothing could explain the emptiness one felt inside the womb whilst the mind still busied itself with the emotions of a pregnant woman. It was mental torture of the worst kind and it had happened over and over again. After so many miscarriages, to finally be awarded the precious role of a mother, felt like a prize I had been striving for all my life. Finally everything was falling into place.

46

DAISY

It had been seventy-two hours since I took the last pill. I was going to hang on for another forty-eight hours. I was putting them under the mattress because I figured that I would need them, if things got too bad. I had a choice. A get out.

My eyes filled with tears regularly throughout the day, but it did feel different, I had to admit. Or maybe I was imagining it. The pain felt less dull and more real. I could actually acknowledge it and feel it as it was, rather than this surreal experience that was happening to someone else and not me.