That evening she spent ages composing a text, unsure of what to say to him. In the end, she settled on:
I hope you have had time to think, are you ready to talk? Please call me. I love you so much. I hope you are okay. L xxx
Lucy sat by her phone for the rest of the evening, willing a message to appear on the screen or the ringtone to chime out its cheery tune. At times she would walk away, thinking of Ginny saying ‘a watched pot never boils,’ her ears straining to hear the ping of a new text, before hurrying back over to it just in case she had missed something. Still nothing came.
She could picture Rory sitting by his fire, a glass of whisky in his hand and Rufus at his feet. She couldn’t bear to think of the inner turmoil she had plunged him into. She knew he would be torn up inside, that he wouldn’t want to hurt her but that he didn’t know what to do, how to react. If he came back to her, he would face the possibility of raising a child that was not his. The thought of him sitting there by himself made her cry; she ached for his arms to be around her, for his eyes to crinkle as he smiled at her, stroked her cheek and told her that he loved her, that nothing else mattered.
That week, the silence continued. She tried calling him several times; she even went to his house one evening and rang on the doorbell, sitting on the steps for half an hour, just waiting. She became enraged at him, shouting through the letter box, pummelling the door with her fists, begging him to shout at her, scream at her, tell her to go to hell… anything but this silent treatment. She couldn’t bear it. She telephoned her father in tears and asked him what she should do. Gus advised her, ‘Go home, my love. You’re going to have to leave him alone. If Rory is going to come back, he will come back of his own accord, you can’t force him. It’s going to take time for him to think through his options. If it is meant to be, then sooner or later he will realize that he can’t imagine his life without you, despite the circumstances.’
Realizing the wisdom in her father’s words, Lucy decided to stop contacting Rory. As hard as it might be, she couldn’t make him come back. He knew how much she loved him, but if he felt coerced or pressured it would make him less likely to return to her. If he did come back, he needed to know that it had been his decision, and his alone.
Two painful, horrendous weeks of utter heartbreak had passed since Ireland. Lucy had never known pain like it. When Alex had left her she thought she had felt the depths of despair, but that was nothing compared to this. Rory was her whole world, and she loved him, she really loved him. She was painfully aware thatshehad chosen this path; it was her fault and hers alone that Rory was no longer with her. After Alex had left she would reassure herself with the thought that there was nothing she could have done differently, he just hadn’t loved her enough. She had taken comfort in that. Besides, she had always disliked the darker, more negative side of his personality. She had known deep down that she could have found someone better. But there was no one who could ever come close to Rory. He truly was her perfect man. There was no denying that Lucy was responsible for the situation she currently found herself in, and that hurt her almost more than she could bear. She refused to blame her baby. She already loved her unborn child with all her heart and felt fiercely protective over it, but the harrowing, heart-wrenching sorrow she felt without Rory was all-consuming. Eventually, she began to feel numb; she had no more tears left to cry.
Before she knew it, the first week of April had arrived and Lucy was due for her twelve week scan. She had prayed and prayed that she would not have to go through this alone, but as the morning of her appointment dawned, there was still no Rory by her side. She turned down offers from Nicola, Tor, Claudia and Ginny to be there. She needed to face facts; she would be doing this alone. Rory had not even sent her a single message since they had last seen each other at the airport. Lucy had started to give up hope. But wasn’t this what she’d asked for? She was going to be a single mother and she needed to reconcile herself with that fact.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she took her seat in the waiting room, surrounded it seemed by nothing but happy couples. She really did feel alone. It was a different environment from the clinic, and as she surveyed the smiling faces, noticing the tender glances and solidarity between the husbands and their wives as they waited for their turn, she felt deep pangs of longing for Rory wash over her.
‘Lucy Johnston?’ called the sonographer.
Once again she lay in the chair as the sonographer spread gel onto her tummy.
‘There we go, my lovely, here’s your baby!’ she said as the picture flashed up onto the screen.
‘Oh my god, I can’t believe how much it has grown!’ Lucy said. She could make out a real baby now, the instantly recognizable dome of the head with a tiny body curled up beneath it. The baby’s heartbeat thudded loudly into the room. Lucy felt euphoric happiness course through her body as she realized that she was past the most risky part of her pregnancy.
The sonographer reassured her that all was well and once again Lucy was given an image of the baby to take away with her. She wrapped her fingers around the picture in her pocket all the way home, swiftly getting out her telephone and sharing the happy news with her family and friends.
Without thinking, she found herself heading towards Holland Park. Having wound her way through the path that led to the centre of the park, she sat down at the table in the cafe where she had first met Rory. She took out her phone once again, her heartbeat thudding in her ears, and sent a photograph of the scan to him, with a message attached.
Just thought you should know, in case the baby is yours, I have had the twelve week scan, here he/she is. I love you. I miss you. I will always love you. L x
The empty feeling in her heart, that she had felt constantly since he left, ached deeper than ever. She wished things could have worked out differently. Thoughts beginning with ‘If only…’ constantly drifted in and out of her mind. She felt almost crazy with the emotions that were running through her; the depths of despair at losing Rory coupled with the radiant joy of being pregnant. She felt like a madwoman teetering on the edge of hysteria.
Suddenly overwhelmed with missing him, she got up from the table and walked briskly away. That place had too many painful memories, she needed to distance herself. She walked home and ran herself a bath, sinking slowly into the jasmine-scented water. She felt sure that her belly was beginning to look a little swollen now. Looking down at her mini bump, she told her baby how much she loved it, how she couldn’t wait to meet it. She would force herself to look forwards and not back.
