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“Oh, you, too,” I said, watching as he quickly shuffled off. “Thanks for your help with the box!” I called after him, getting a raised hand in acknowledgement of my words.
Interesting.
I returned my trolley to the drop-off spot and rushed back to my car, fishing my phone out of my bag with one hand while I put the key in the ignition with the other. I turned the key so the engine was running, and as the car whirred to life, I opened WhatsApp to send Ash a message.
ME: What time do you close tonight? I just found out something interesting.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“So, I went to the doctor today,” Ash said, locking the shop door. “And I swear to God, I hate being a woman.”
“Why?”
“No pockets in dresses,” she replied nonchalantly.
“What on Earth does our lack of clothing storage space have to do with you going to the doctor?”
“Oh-ho, sit down. It’s quite the story.”
“I feel like I’m going to massively regret this,” I said, sitting down behind the counter. “Go on.”
She cleared her throat to start with and then said, “So, I’m getting the coil fitted next week, right? Because the implant fucking sucked, and I keep forgetting to take that stupid pill.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, you have to go and pick up the actual IUD from the pharmacy before your appointment, and I got a text this morning that it was there, so off I went to get it on my lunch break. I get there and the pharmacist gives it to me and is like, ‘Oh, by the way, you should check with the doctor if you’ll need a pregnancy test before it’s fitted.’”
“Makes sense.”
“It does, even if I’m not doing the horizontal waltz with anyone right now. So, I was like, ‘Well, can I just buy one now?’ since I was in the pharmacy anyway, thinking I could just piss on the damn thing that morning and take it with me. And she says, ‘No, love, they’ve got to do the test there and then.’”
“I have absolutely no idea where you’re going with this, Ash.”
She waved a hand. “I was like all right, fine, okay, but what if I don’t need to pee when I get there? She goes, ‘You have to go to the surgery and pick up a urine sample bottle at reception, catch your first pee on the day of your appointment, then take it in with you.’”
I really did hope she had a point to this story.
“I’m not happy about it, but what can you do? So, I take my little uterine grappling hook and walk around the corner to the doctor’s surgery, and they’re bloody closed for lunch.” She punctuated the end of her sentence by pulling down the blind with a rattle. “I come back here, put the doohickie in my bag, and do my afternoon ceramics session. After that, I have a bit of a lull, so I flip the sign, lock up, and run over to the surgery.”
“I’m still wondering where this is going.”
“I’m getting there, I’m getting there,” she said with another wave of her hand. “So, I go into the surgery and up to the reception and one of the practice nurses is there, and it’s Paula.”
She looked at me like I should know who Paula was.
I didn’t know who Paula was.
“Who’s Paula?” I finally asked.
“Siobhan Greaves’ mum. Remember her? She broke her ankle on the rock pools when we were sixteen and drunk idiots.”
I did know who Paula was.
“How the hell do you remember that?” I blinked at her. “Get on with the story, woman.”
“Okay, okay, fine.” Ash huffed and walked back over to me. “I asked Paula if what the pharmacy person said was true, and she said probably, then asked if I was on any contraception. I said, well no, because I just finished the pill, and since it was only a week ’til the appointment, we decided not to get another prescription and just go without. So, she says yes, I have to do a pregnancy test because I could be pregnant.”
“No,” I replied, snorting.
