Liar Liar

103

Mandy Blayne was smiling, but it was all an act.

She had cooked Darren a full English as usual and he was wolfing it down opposite her. He never left a scrap and always said it was the best breakfast in Southampton. But that never made him stay. He had dropped several hints during the course of last night that he’d be moving on in the morning – he said it was work, but Mandy was sure that was a lie. She knew he had other women on the go. He always denied it of course, angered by the suggestion, but she could smell it on him when he arrived.

He often turned up unannounced, knowing he’d always get a warm welcome. Mandy was a fool to herself, she knew that, but she loved him. Pure and simple. She shouldn’t but she did. And when he did come, when he was here with her, things always seemed better. They’d have a few beers, watch a bit of TV, then go upstairs for a cuddle. And that’s where they’d stay – often spending a whole weekend in bed. Darren always joked that he needed a good breakfast in the morning to regain his strength after what they got up to.

This time had been different of course. She’d been building herself up to telling him she was pregnant since the moment he turned up on her door with a bunch of roses in his hand. He’d been away from her for nearly seven weeks and her depression this time round was compounded by the realization that she’d missed her period. She had put off buying a pregnancy test, hoping against hope that she was just late, but in the end she had to know. The positive result sent her mood plunging still further, then later when she’d had time to think, she’d half wondered if it might be a good thing. Was this the start of a different future for Mandy?

She’d meant to tell him before they had dinner. Then, having failed to do that, she vowed to tell him before they went upstairs. But when it came to it, she didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to risk spoiling the evening, so they’d tumbled into bed together as usual. He never used protection, it never seemed to enter his head to do so. She thought she’d had this covered, but obviously she hadn’t.

After that the moment had passed. If she told him now, it would be like she’d sprung it on him. Accepted the flowers, the booze, the company and then handed him an unpleasant bill for his services. All her fond hopes that he might actually be pleased evaporated and she knew instinctively that he would run a mile if he thought she was trying to tie him down. She couldn’t risk that, so she said nothing.

She had decided to get it dealt with. She would go to the doctor and see what he could give her. He’d try to talk through the options, but she had made up her mind. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. Wouldn’t wish it on the poor kid anyway.

There’d be no one to comfort her afterwards. She’d come back to her little two up, two down, in St Denys, shut the door and hear the silence. Maybe she’d cry for a bit. Or have a smoke. Either way she’d end up spending the night alone, clutching a mug of tea and watching the TV. And that would be her lot.

Nothing interesting ever happened in her life.