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Later, when she’d had a chance to start recovering from the miscarriage and the stress it brought, she had started to accept that the miscarriage wasn’t her fault. It was just bad timing with the conference, and, even more sadly, it wasn’t the only miscarriage she’d had. That was why she had been undertaking the fertility treatment in the first place, after all. Because her body needed help.
She had forgiven herself at least a little, though there was still a way to go for Liz in feeling any sense of peace with her fertility journey so far. But, as she had arrived with Ben in the taxi at the same London hotel that the conference was always held at, she had felt like throwing up.
Being at the same hotel as the year before, knowing what had happened just after, made her feel like curling into a ball and crying.
Liz had got to her room with a degree of relief, saying hello to the people she knew as she made her way through the lobby but not stopping to chat. She was also stressing about whether to take the next step at the fertility clinic. She’d been back and forth, in her mind – part of her wanted to try again, and thought that a sperm donor wasn’t such a bad idea.
But there was a large part of Liz that wasn’t sure about the sperm donor route. It wasn’t so much that she was scared of being a single parent: Gretchen had done it, she thought to herself again, which was inspiring, and she knew that women – and men – did it all the time. It was more that Liz just didn’t know whether to try again for a baby at all, or to draw a line under her fertility journey completely and call it a day. Whatever she did, though, she knew she was in control, and that felt good.
Her and Ben’s presentation was the next morning, and she wanted to stay relatively closeted until then, making sure she was happy with what she was going to say, and feeling as confident as possible.
Confidence is an interesting concept, she thought, as she adjusted the font on the presentation slides. She knew how to project an image of confidence. And she was confident in the Old Maids. It was something that had become very close to her heart.
But, inside, she was a mess. She wouldn’t let it show, tomorrow. Or for any of the time she and Ben were at the conference. But this whole time was going to be an endurance test, not least because she had to keep everything hidden from Ben, too, who was booked in the seat next to her on the flight back and had flown down with her.
A knock on her door distracted her from her thoughts. She went to the spyhole and looked out: Ben stood on the other side. She sighed, and opened the door.
‘Hi, Ben. I’m just finishing up on those last notes we talked about,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her weariness.
‘Oh, right. Well I thought I’d come and escort you down to dinner.’ He held out his arm in a mock-gentlemanly way. ‘You must be hungry.’
‘Oh, I’m just going to have something in my room,’ she demurred. ‘You go. I’ll see you at breakfast.’
‘Oh. But everyone will be there.’ Ben looked surprised. ‘You’ve been really quiet all day. Are you all right? Not worried about tomorrow?’
‘No. I’ve presented here before,’ she said, which wasn’t a lie. She was confident in the presentation. It was just the being here at all which was difficult.
‘You’re not hungry, then?’ He frowned.
‘Not very.’ Liz gave him a wan smile. ‘Anyway. Better get back to it.’ She went to close the door, but he rested his hand gently on it.
‘Liz. What’s wrong? Please tell me. Is it the job? Is it me? Have I done something wrong? Because I’ll fix it. Whatever it is.’
‘There’s nothing for you to fix,’ Liz said, tiredly. She was tired of feeling awful about her past. She was tired of thinking about it, remembering it. The dread that she had felt when she had approached the hotel in the taxi had almost floored her; it had been all she could do to keep a normal expression and not start sobbing. ‘Just go to dinner without me.’
‘I don’t want to. I don’t know anyone, really. I was looking forward to you going with me. So you could introduce me to everyone.’ He gave her a shy smile. ‘That’s one of the perks of having employed one of the top Sales Directors in the industry, after all.’
‘Well, I’m sorry you won’t be getting your money’s worth,’ Liz snapped. ‘Anyway, won’t you need to disappear during dinner? You’ve hardly been around recently. I wouldn’t want to cramp your style, whatever it is you go off to do. Golf, or whatever. You clearly don’t care about whether we’re successful here or not.’
As soon as she’d said it, she regretted it, but the words hung between them in the air like a curse.
‘Liz. Is that what you think?’ Ben looked devastated.
‘It’s none of my business what you do, Ben. But you asked me to come on board and help you rebuild the company. That’s what I’m doing; it’s what I’ve done, and I’ve had to do it almost single-handed, because you keep disappearing on me. It’s fine if you don’t want to be CEO. But be straight with me. Be straight with all of us. Because at the moment, we don’t know what’s happening, and it’s not fair,’ she said, angrily. She’d been wanting to say something about Ben’s disappearances for weeks, but she’d been too polite to do so.
However, now, she’d lost her temper, and all bets were off. Being here, at the same hotel where she’d miscarried her baby, was affecting her more than she’d realised it would.
‘That’s not what’s going on,’ Ben protested.
‘Well, what is it, then?’
‘I can’t.’ He looked away. ‘Please believe me. I’d like to, but I can’t.’
‘Oh, how convenient.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘No. Actually it’s not convenient at all,’ he argued. ‘But… sure. I’ll see you tomorrow. Let’s have time to cool down, and we can refocus on the presentation tomorrow.’ He turned away, then turned back towards the door, obviously having something else to say.
‘What?’ she demanded, desperately trying to stay composed. She could feel herself breaking down rapidly, and if she didn’t close the door soon, she was going to dissolve into a puddle.
