Toni’s Blog

I was holding my breath as I waited for the line to appear on the pregnancy testing stick.

“Please let it be all right,” I whispered to myself.  My hand was shaking as the blue line appeared in the small window.  It was positive...

My heart almost stopped beating as I threw the stick onto the kitchen table.  I was pregnant.  I was going to have a baby.  The only problem was, whose baby was it?

Tears filled my eyes but I forced them back.  There was no point crying, I wasn’t an innocent teenager, I’d known all the pitfalls right from the start.

“Mummy...me tired...” Sarah, my two-year-old daughter, came into the kitchen, trying to cuddle her doll and suck her thumb at the same time.

I picked her up and held her close.

“You must be after helping me carry all that shopping,” I said, making myself sound loving and normal as I carried her upstairs.  “So how about having a sleep before Daddy comes home?”

Sarah nodded absently and the moment she put her head on the pillow her eyes closed and she was asleep.  I gazed down at her.  How marvellous it must be not to have a guilty conscience, I thought with a sigh.

I went back downstairs to the kitchen and stared at the ominous blue line again.  It hadn’t changed, nothing had changed.  I was still pregnant, and I still didn’t know if the father was my husband, Sam, or my lover, Kevin.

Nervously I found myself twisting my gold wedding ring.  What had begun so innocently had suddenly turned into a terrifying nightmare...

For the past few months I’d got into the habit of occasionally having morning coffee with a few of my friends.  We all had small children and the same sort of problems, which were basically how to make our housekeeping money last to the end of the week, and how to make life more interesting.

“What we need is something to liven our dreary week up,” Glenda said one morning.  “I reckon a night out would do us all good.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.  “Any suggestions?”

Glenda reached for the local paper.

“There was an article in here that caught my eye,” she murmured.  “It might be just what we’re looking for.”

She rifled through the paper then stopped.

“Here it is,” she said.  “Now then, how do you fancy going to a talk on jam making and the best way to use up all kinds of left-overs?”

We all stared at her in horror and Glenda stared innocently back.

“Are you serious?” Jenny asked in a low voice.  “Jam making, Glenda?”

She nodded.  “Why not?  We’re always moaning about the cost of things these days, and we might pick up a few tips.”

I looked at her suspiciously.

“Please say there’s more to it than that,” I begged.

Glenda started to laugh.

“Of course there is!” she giggled.  “These meetings finish at nine - and that’s far too early to come straight home, so what’s to stop us going somewhere for a drink or two afterwards?”

“And there’d be absolutely no need to tell our ever loving menfolk about that part of the evening, would there?” Jenny chimed in.

I wasn’t too happy about deceiving Sam, but the mere thought of going out on my own without a husband and baby tagging along was very appealing.

“That’s an excellent idea,” I said, nodding.  “We might even learn how to make jam!”

When I told Sam about it that evening he burst out laughing.

“The Women’s Guild!” he exclaimed.  “Oh, Pam, not you.  You’re just not the type.  I mean, jam making!”

When Glenda had first mentioned it I’d thought it pretty hilarious, too, but suddenly I found Sam’s attitude really annoying.

“At least I’m trying,” I flung at him crossly.  “It’s not easy making your money stretch, Sam, and as well as picking up some useful ideas, I’d also get a few hours away from the problems of being married!”

My last remark wiped the smile right off his face.  I felt mean, but I wasn’t going to take it back.

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