Waiting for Wednesday

gazed
back into the lit kitchen. Dora was sitting with her head propped on her hand, talking;
Sasha was listening intently. ‘Except,’ she added.
    ‘Except?’
    ‘I think she may have discovered I was
on the Pill.’
    ‘What makes you think that?’
    ‘I knew she’d find them if I put
them anywhere obvious. She had a talent for it – sniffing out other people’s
secret things. If I’d put them in my underwear drawer or in my makeup bag or under
the mattress, she’d have dug them out at once. Like Ted’s weed. So I put
them in a sock in the cupboard next to the bathroom, which nobody opens from oneyear to the next except to chuck stuff in. But I think she found
them. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I think she changed the dial so the arrow was
pointing to the right day. I just used to take one and not bother about the day matching
up, but someone changed it. Twice. I’m sure they did.’
    ‘Perhaps it was her way of telling you
she knew.’
    ‘I dunno. It seems a bit stupid to me.
Why wouldn’t she just say?’
    ‘Because she knew you’d be angry
with her and clam up?’
    ‘Maybe.’ Judith turned.
‘So you think she knew?’
    ‘Perhaps.’
    ‘And she was waiting for me to confide
in her?’
    ‘It’s a possibility.’
    ‘But I never did.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘I feel like she’s someone I
never knew. I can’t remember her face properly.’
    ‘It’s very hard.’ Frieda
made up her mind. ‘Listen, Judith. There’s a late-night chemist a couple of
minutes away. If I can, I’m going to buy you a Predictor kit, and then you can do
it here, at once.’
    ‘Now?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I don’t think I can.’
    ‘At least you’ll know. The worst
thing is not knowing.’ Her old mantra. Wearing a bit thin now. The girl’s
strained face glimmered in the darkness. Frieda put a hand on her shoulder and steered
her into the kitchen.
    ‘Your curry’s all cold,’
said Sasha, coming over to her and putting a comforting hand on her arm.
    ‘Yes, well. We’ll go to a
restaurant next time. I’ve just got to go out for a few minutes.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Just to the chemist’s to get a
few things.’
    ‘She thinks she’s pregnant,
doesn’t she?’ Sasha asked, in a low voice.
    ‘How on earth do you know
that?’
    ‘Are you going to get a
Predictor?’
    ‘Yes. If it’s open.’
    Sasha said, turning away and speaking in a
casual voice: ‘I’ve got one in my bag she can use.’
    ‘Oh, Sasha!’ Images flashed
through Frieda’s mind – Sasha not lifting her glass, Sasha talking to Dora in a
new voice of maternal tenderness, Sasha’s hesitation earlier that evening, as if
she was about to tell her something. ‘That’s what you wanted to tell
me!’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Are you?’
    ‘Let’s talk later.’
    Judith wasn’t pregnant. Her sickness
and her lateness were, Frieda told her, probably to do with shock and grief. But she
needed to think about this properly, she said, not simply continue as she had been
doing. She was fifteen and in a relationship with a man who was more than thirteen years
older than her. ‘You need to talk to someone,’ she said.
    ‘I’m talking to you,
aren’t I?’
    Frieda sighed. Tiredness was making her head
pound. ‘Someone who’s not me,’ she replied.
    She made Judith a mug of tea, and Dora, who
was limp from crying, some hot chocolate. ‘I’ll order you a cab,’ she
said. ‘Your father and aunt will be worried.’
    Judith snorted.
    Then the doorbell rang again.
    ‘That’ll be Chloë,’ said
Frieda.
    ‘I’ll go.’ Sasha rose and
put a hand on Frieda’s shoulder, then went to the door.
    It wasn’t Chloë, it was Ted. He was
clearly stoned.
    ‘Isn’t Chloë back yet?’ he
asked.
    ‘No. I’m just ordering a
cab,’ Frieda told him, putting her hand over the receiver. ‘You can all go
home together.’ She gave the taxi company her address and put the phone down.
    ‘No way. No way in the world.
Dad’s drunk out of his head and Aunt Louise is very, very angry in a stomping kind
of way. I’m not staying there tonight.’
    ‘Well, then, I’m not
either,’ said Judith. Her blue eyes blazed with a kind of scared excitement.
‘Nor will Dora. Will you, Dora?’
    Dora stared at her. She looked stricken.
    ‘The cab will be here in about five
minutes. You’re all going home.’
    ‘No,’ said Ted. ‘I
can’t go there.’
    ‘You can’t make us,’ added
Judith. Dora put her head on the kitchen table again and closed her eyes. Her