I smile at him. ‘We could really make it work, if we try. I know it’s not ideal, but we can do this. Together we’re strong.’
‘I love you,’ says Niall.
‘I love you too.’
Fiona has come over to visit. Her timing couldn’t be better. Mum and Dad are in the café and Sean has gone off to meet with some of his friends. It’s just me and Fiona at the flat. She is the first person, other than Niall, who I’m going to tell about the baby.
Fiona sits down beside me. ‘So, what’s up? You’ve been on edge ever since I got here yesterday.’
She knows me so well.
‘I don’t know how to say this…’ I stumble over the words. I can’t bring myself to say them out loud. I feel I’ve let her down. I look bleakly at her whilst my mind rushes to think of something else. I feel the tears begin to sting my eyes and I rapidly blink them away. A lump forces its way up my throat, sticking right at the back, where I can’t seem to swallow it down.
Fiona’s eyes penetrate mine. She’s searching for the answer.
‘Erin?’ Her voice is soft and I can hear a tentativeness I’m not used to. Usually, Fiona is strong and able to deal with anything and everything. She reaches over and holds my hand in hers. ‘Are you pregnant?’
How does she know without me having to say a word? I still can’t get rid of that lump in my throat. It swells some more and the tears flood my eyes, spilling over and racing down my cheeks. I nod and manage to croak out a yes.
‘Oh, Erin,’ says Fiona. There’s compassion in her voice. She draws me to her and holds me tightly. I don’t know what she’s thinking. She doesn’t say anything, just holds me while I sob.
‘It will be all right, though,’ I say, when the tears subside. ‘Niall is going to get a job and study at evening classes. I’m going to do the same. Once we’re both qualified it will be great. We’ll be able to support ourselves properly.’ I’m rambling, the words are tumbling over each other in a bid to free themselves. They gather pace. ‘I know it will be hard at first and everything, but we are going to make it work…’
Fiona listens patiently. Every now and then she gives a little smile and nods. She waits for me to come to an end.
‘You seem to have it all worked out,’ she says. ‘You know, Erin, it’s great you and Niall are being positive about it all and I do admire that, I really do, but you do also know it won’t be that straightforward. You’re both giving up great opportunities ahead of you and you may never fulfil your dreams. Life has a habit of putting obstacles in the way and sometimes there are just too many to get round.’
‘Are you saying I should have an abortion?’ Although it is something I’ve thought about and talked over with Niall, I never expected this suggestion from my sister. Not Fiona. She’s never made any secret of the fact that her and Sean want to start a family soon. Why would she suggest it to me?
‘Absolutely not. You must know how I feel about it,’ she says, without a moment’s hesitation. ‘All I’m trying to say is, whatever decision you make, you must do it with the full knowledge, realistic knowledge, of what lies ahead. I would never dream of telling you what you should and shouldn’t do. I’m here for you. Always have been and always will be. I’ll support you, but I won’t tell you what to do.’
With an understanding of where we stand, we talk our way through the rest of the morning. Fiona starts making a list of things I will need to do. The list is endless. Go to the doctors. Start taking folic acid. Avoid eating soft cheese and pâté. No alcohol. Find out about financial support. Find out about my rights to education. Research evening classes. I feel overwhelmed with the enormity of what I have to do. Practical things. Grown-up stuff that before I never had to even consider.
‘And then, of course, there’s Mum and Dad to tell and Niall’s parents,’ says Fiona.
‘Dad is going to kill me,’ I say. I’ve been avoiding this issue. Telling him is going to be the worst thing ever. ‘And then he’s going to kill Niall.’
‘If I was you, I’d tell Mum first. On her own. Give her a couple of days to get used to the idea. That way you’ll only have to deal with one of them at a time.’
I look up from the tissue I’ve been tearing apart, bit by bit, for the last few minutes, and I see so many things on my sister’s face. So many emotions. There’s compassion, love, protectiveness, strength and there’s pain. I wish the last one away. I’m sure the pain is not just for me, but for her too. How did God muddle up our wishes? It seems so cruel.