And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [22]
Which was a state of confusion. Now that I was over the shock, part of me (the part that would have to tell Hilary Spiggs) was definitely scared, but another part of me was feeling really excited. Like I was a child and it was Christmas Eve.
Shanee sighed. “I can’t believe you didn’t use a condom,” she muttered. “I really can’t. The government spends millions of pounds telling people to use condoms so they won’t have babies they don’t want, and you just jump right into bed without a second thought.”
“You can’t think when you’re gripped by passion. It just takes over. You’ll see for yourself, some day.”
“No, I won’t,” said Shanee. “I’ll’ve learnt my lesson from you.”
I didn’t open the bag once on the way home. Not even for a peek. I sat with it on my lap, while Shanee banged on about how the chemist had looked at her and how the other customers had looked at her and how the guard had smiled at her as she left.
I didn’t open the bag until me and Shanee were safely locked in my bathroom.
“Oh, no,” I cried. “It’s the wrong kind. It’s pink!”
“No, it isn’t,” said Shanee. “The applicator’s white. The indicator turns pink if you’re knocked up.”
“But the one Dara used was blue.” I remembered it distinctly. I’d felt really chuffed at the time that Dara showed it to me and did the test while I was there, as if I wasn’t her little sister but her friend.
Shanee snatched the box out of my hand and tore it open.
“For God’s sake, Lana. What difference does it make if it turns pink or blue? It means the same thing.”
I took the applicator from her. “I know. I just want to make sure we got a good one, that’s all.”
“It was the most expensive one they had,” said Shanee.
She unfolded the instructions and read them out to me. She turned her back while I peed. She stood beside me at the sink, staring at the applicator, waiting for something to happen or not happen.
Something happened. It turned pink.
“Maybe it’s wrong,” said Shanee at last.
I held up the carton. “It says it’s as accurate as a doctor’s test.”
Shanee squashed her mouth together. “Well, of course it says that. It’s not going to say, ‘Not very accurate at all’, is it?” She grabbed the applicator and held it up to the light. It was still pink.
“Maybe it’s a dud,” said Shanee.
I hadn’t thought of that. The Spiggs was always buying things that didn’t work. Hoovers, light bulbs, small appliances. It could happen with pregnancy tests, too.
“Do you think so? You think we should’ve got two?” I didn’t want to make a mistake. This was really important.
Shanee sighed. “We’ll get another one from a different shop.” I could see the expression on her face in the mirror. She looked worried. And scared. “So we’re sure.”
Beside her, my face was already beginning to glow. I was that excited. Imagine, me pregnant! I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be a mother. Talk about when I grow up! The only way I’d’ve felt more grown up was if I’d been the queen or somebody like that.
“Good idea,” I agreed. “We’d better get two more.” I dropped the applicator and the box into the Boots’ bag. “If the next one is negative we’ll have to do a third as a control.”
Shanee’s eyebrows rose.
“Good God!” said Shanee. “You have been paying some attention in science.”
“I’ll tell you one thing…” Shanee tossed the magazine she’d been pretending to flip through back on the coffee table. “I’m glad I don’t have to tell your mother.”
I heard her, but I didn’t feel like speaking. I just couldn’t get over it. When we did cooking, my rice pudding came out like soup. When we made clocks in design and technology, mine was too small to fit the timepiece. All my plants for the science project died. Twice. And yet I got pregnant, first time. It’s like getting a hole in one the first time you pick up a golf club. But we’d done it. Me and Les. We were naturals. We were always meant to be.
Shanee twisted round so she was facing me.
“What