‘Frankie’s pregnant,’ she gasped.
I’m ashamed to say my heart kicked in. Not me. Not Clemmie. Not my darling girl. I had to take a moment to recover. Regroup. I set Archie on his feet and he toddled off. Frankie …
‘Oh my God.’ As I straightened, my hand went to my mouth. I stared at my friend. Her face was very pale, her lips bloodless. ‘How d’you know? Did she tell you?’
‘No, I found this!’ she hissed, producing a pregnancy-test stick from her coat pocket. ‘In the bathroom, in the waste-paper basket!’
‘Oh.’ I stared. There was very much a bright blue line in the window. Very positive. Very much pregnant. My head spun. I took her arm and led her into the sitting room.
‘But … is it definitely hers?’
‘Well, it’s not mine and I certainly hope to God it’s not Hannah’s!’
‘No, but … it could be a friend’s?’ I hazarded.
‘Oh, come on, Poppy. I know which friends she’s had in and out of the house and she hasn’t, recently. And I only emptied that bin the other day.’ Jennie paced around my sitting room, arms folded, eyes over-bright, her chin tucked in as if looking into the eye of the storm. ‘That’s why I was surprised to see it full again, with rather too much fresh loo paper, which had been stuffed on top to hide this. Of
I sat her down on the sofa, perching beside her. She was hyperventilating a bit.
‘Breathe, Jennie, and think. Don’t go off the deep end. You’ve got to help her in this, not tar and feather her.’
She nodded, compressing her lips, her face grim, staring straight ahead. She knew that; but still, it was hard.
‘And if she’s just done the test, she’s probably only just pregnant, so all is not lost.’
‘Not necessarily,’ she muttered.
‘No, not necessarily, but let’s wait until we know the facts. Is she seeing someone? Has she got a boyfriend? Who could it be?’
‘Well, that’s just it!’ she cried, turning to face me. ‘No! No boyfriend, not even a friend who’s a boy, and trust me, I would know. I keep a very close eye on that girl. And she hasn’t even mentioned anyone, ever! Not to me, anyway.’
Suddenly Frankie’s words came back to me in a rush. What are you going to do in the holidays? ‘I thought I might get pregnant.’ And I thought she was being droll, ironic, sardonic, as she could be: brighter than she looked.
I got up quickly from the sofa; walked to the mantle to hide my face, reached ostensibly to fiddle with the clock, wind it. Something else had occurred to me too. Jennie knew me very well, though.
‘What?’ she pounced, on her feet. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing, I –’
‘Poppy, you know something – what?’ She swung me round.
‘No, Jennie, honestly, I –’
‘Poppy –
I did. I knew that. She held my arms and my eyes. Hers were blazing with emotion.
I flicked my tongue over my lips. ‘OK. OK, but I swear to God I’m sure it was just Frankie being flippant, you know how she is.’
‘Poppy …’
‘Well, the other night, after babysitting, she dashed off across the road to get in someone’s car. The engine was running and they drove off together.’
‘She doesn’t know anyone with a car.’
‘And earlier, at the beginning of term, well – she told me she fancied a teacher.’
Jennie stared. Then shock registered on her face. She gave a strangled cry and staggered back, subsiding into the sofa, one hand covering her mouth. Then she looked up at me in disbelief. At length she removed her hand.
‘Which one?’ she whispered.
‘Which teacher? Um, I’m not sure.’ I wasn’t. I wracked my brains. ‘Could it be maths? Or biology? Yes, biology. But, Jennie, it was probably said as a jest. I’m sure she was just winding me up.’
‘Hennessy!’ She sat up with a sensational hiss.
