Alex denied any responsibility for the baby and concocted a story for his fiancée Claire, who then had a major hissy fit. The irony is I hadn’t even threatened him with telling her. What the hell for? It wasn’t like it would help my situation any. All I asked was that he send me the money for an abortion. I never found out if I’d go through with it though, since he didn’t oblige. I got an insulting e-mail from Claire instead.
That was the beginning of a cyber hate campaign against me. At first, Claire contented herself with slagging me off. I’m a desperate slut who goes after other women’s men, blah blah. I took it on the chin. After all, I was kind of slutty and if you do the shit you gotta take the hit, right? But then men I didn’t even know boasted about shagging me, contributing stories of threesomes, foursomes and whatever else they could think of. I was the gold medalist in a massive fuckathon around Brighton.
Then came the gut kick. Claire announced that Paisley Benton, of 107 Darton Road, was a pregnant druggie who didn’t know who the father of her baby was. Soon enough, people I didn’t even know had heard about my pregnancy. The next time Caroline checked her Facebook page I’d be toast.#p#分页标题#e#
Miraculously, she didn’t.
Never underestimate the single-minded concentration of a bridezilla. Caroline was deliriously happy organising her wedding and said she was too busy to bother with what she called the “electronic trivia of mundanity.” Marcia was worried and Tarzan was angry. He said Alex was a prick and offered me his savings towards baby costs—all eighty-two pounds of it, which I thought was sweet. I wasn’t used to guys caring about anything beyond my cup size, but Tarzan read up, made me drink lots of orange juice and bought me folic acid. Instead of watching Great Sexpectations we watched Expecting a Baby, which I thought was pretty damn funny in light of our previous porn habit.
After a few people from church looked at me strangely I knew my time as a closet gestator was coming to an end. I was so strung out I nearly headed to 27B to take the edge off, but at the last minute I called Marcia. She baked me chocolate cupcakes and we watched Final Destination. Call me weird, but in moments of stress a slasher film can calm me down. I decided to stretch my luck until after the wedding and marked the date with a big red X on my wall calendar.
As soon as the excitement was over I would tell my parents about my pregnancy and hope for the best. With Caroline on her honeymoon, I hoped that they would find it in their hearts to help me. Having a grandchild might make them soften towards me and heal some of the scars in our relationship. I convinced myself that all I had to do was make it to Caroline’s big day and everything would be fine.
Unfortunately, Caroline had other ideas.
On the eve of the wedding I came home from Tarzan’s house and walked into the kitchen. My parents and Caroline were seated at the table in silence, their faces stone cold.
“How could you be so immoral?” Caroline asked.
Shit! James must have finally told her everything. “It wasn’t my fault!”
My mother stood up, her eyes red and her face blotchy from crying.
“How can getting pregnant not be your fault after everything I’ve told you?” she snarled.
Fuck! My mind did a quick switch to “They know I’m pregnant, now what?”
Total brain freeze as it happens. My father was so quiet it was scary, freaking me out more than any fist banging or shouting could have done. He stood up and came towards me, one small step at a time. I backed away, a protective hand over my belly but Caroline got up and blocked my exit. She pointed at the counter, her eyes gleaming.
There was the Find Out test and next to that, my half-empty bottle of Absolut. I hadn’t had a drink in weeks but I hadn’t thrown out the bottle either. I looked at my mother appealingly. After all, she’d understand my predicament better than anybody else, wouldn’t she?
She stared back at me with loathing. “Why are you shaking?”
My eyes cut to the vodka.
“Oh dear Lord Jesus,” she said. “My daughter’s a drug addict and an alcoholic!”
“Shut it, María,” my father said. He picked up the pregnancy test and pointed it at me. “What the fuck is this?”
I could feel a flippant answer coming on so I bit down on my tongue.
“Paisley’s an accomplished liar,” Caroline said snidely. “I can’t wait to hear what she comes up with this time. No doubt it’ll be another far-fetched story so we’ll feel sorry for her.”
My mother shook her finger at me. “How could you do this to us? What have we ever done to make you an ungrateful, fornicating liar?”