The Girl Who Lied(39)

‘You’re not keeping the baby and that’s that. I’ll hear no more about it.’ He adjusts his cardigan around his shoulders. ‘Now, I suggest, young lady, you go to your room and have a proper think about things. Tomorrow we’ll contact the Marshalls and get this mess sorted out.’

We’re sitting in the Marshalls’ living room. Me, Mum and Dad. Mum and I are perched on the sofa and Dad is standing by the fireplace. Niall is sitting opposite me in a chair. His father is standing too. Diana is making tea and coffee. The silence that fills the room is oppressive and heavy. I feel as if the ceiling has an invisible force field that is slowly pushing down on top of us.

I wanted Niall to sit by me. When he came into the room, I went to get up, to greet him. I wanted to show some sort of unity to our parents. But his body language told another story. He didn’t meet my eyes. We haven’t seen each other since Dad found out three days ago. Niall hasn’t been at school and I was so sick this morning, I couldn’t face going in. I’m not sure if it’s nerves or morning sickness. Mum seems to think a bit of both.

Last night I wanted to ask her why she was siding with Dad. I went to say something but she just put her hand on my cheek and shook her head. She didn’t need to say she was sorry. I knew she was. She thought she was letting me down. She’s tried to talk to Dad – I’ve heard them for the past three nights arguing about it, but Dad won’t be moved.

Today is my last chance to convince them they’re wrong and that Niall and I are right. That we can do this. We can have this baby and be happy. We will get our happy ever after.

Diana comes in with a tray of cups. We’re all having tea except for Dad. He’s gone for a black coffee.

I’m not sure what happens next. One minute we’re sitting stilled, awkwardly accepting our drinks and thanking Diana, and the next there is a full-blown conversation going on between both sets of parents about how they’re going to sort this mess out as quickly as possible, without any fuss: no one need ever know.

‘I can make the arrangements. I have professional contacts in London who deal with this sort of thing,’ Diana is saying.

‘And they’re discreet?’ asks Dad.

‘Absolutely,’ says Diana.

‘And safe?’ Mum asks.

‘Very. As much as you can be with these sorts of things,’ says Diana. ‘Erin’s not very far gone, there shouldn’t be any complications at all.’

They carry on talking. I look over to Niall, who is still staring at his shoes. I want to cry. Why isn’t he defending us? I’ve tried to speak, but it seems only I can hear my voice. I am silent to the adults in the room. He looks up and I can tell he’s hurting too. I send a pleading message with my eyes. He nods. He mouths ‘It’s okay.’ He moves his hand slightly, as if very gently patting down the air. He’s telling me not to say anything. To go along with it. I send a questioning look this time. Again, the mimed words, ‘It’s okay,’ come back to me. I don’t understand. What’s okay?

Is it okay what the parents have decided? Or is it okay, as in we’re going to be okay? I just don’t know.

The next thirty minutes go by in a haze. It seems my fate and the fate of my unborn baby, their grandchild, has been decided. I am to go to London to have a termination. The sooner the better. And then we can all go back to our normal lives, Niall can go off to university and everyone will carry on as if nothing has happened.

Niall texts me that night. He wants to meet in secret. I tell him he has to meet me at midnight, when I know Mum and Dad will be asleep and I can creep out. He’s to wait at the top of the road to The Spit. I will keep a watch out from my window.

It seems forever before Mum and Dad go to bed. I lie still in mine, listening for the tell-tale sign of the light switch in the living room and the plug behind the TV being flicked to off. Dad doesn’t believe in leaving things on standby.

By eleven-thirty they will both be in a deep sleep, so by the time it’s midnight, they won’t hear me at all. I put my dressing gown on over my clothes, in case I get caught in the hallway.

At midnight I peer through my curtains. Niall’s car is parked under the streetlight.

I make a stealthy exit and pad in my stocking feet down the metal staircase. I don’t put my shoes on until I’m at the end of the service road and then, keeping to the shadows, I run along the parade of shops, across the road and hurl myself into Niall’s car.

We drive off out of the village, along to a deserted part of the tidal river. The light of the moon fans across the water as it laps its way down towards the sea, the pull of the outgoing tide leading the way.