FaceTime

Maggie was halfway through collating her report for the LoveBunny organisation when her mobile pinged.

She flipped it open. Saw a FaceTime call. Pressed ‘accept’.

Her daughter’s face appeared on the screen.

‘Kirsty.’ She suffused with a warm flush of pleasure. ‘What a nice surprise!’

‘Right.’ The small face looked pinched. ‘Whatever.’

Sharp intake of breath. Since she’d brought that boy home to visit, Kirsty’s calls had been thin on the ground. Maggie told herself not to worry. It was nearly a year, now, since she’d discovered Kirsty was cutting herself. That, and Colin’s repeated absences from school, had given her many a sleepless night. But all that was behind them now, surely. Her thoughts ran wild.

‘How are you doing, pet?’ was all she said.

‘Okay.’

‘Just “okay”?’ Maggie pressed.

There was a long silence, then: ‘I’ve missed my period, Mum.’

Oh, no! was Maggie’s immediate reaction. She had a mental picture of the girl in her class at school: her belly swelling under her uniform, the whispered asides before she was whisked away to some distant place, her parents’ shame.

‘How long?’ Her practical side took over.

‘It was due last Tuesday.’

‘And you’ve taken nearly a week to tell me?’ She couldn’t mask the reproach in her voice.

‘I’m telling you now,’ Kirsty retorted angrily.

‘I know,’ Maggie’s voice softened. ‘And I’m pleased you have. I take it you’ve been…’ she continued. Sexually active was what she’d have asked a client. She’s nineteen, for God’s sake, she cursed herself for her naivety. Of course she bloody has.

She changed tack. ‘You sure?’

‘One hundred per cent.’

‘Right.’ Pointless asking who was responsible. Maggie shuddered. Odds on it was that uncouth Shaz. On the other hand, she reasoned, Kirsty might well have multiple partners. It was a different world from the one she was brought up in. And her daughter was a student, after all.

No matter, her mind raced, all that was irrelevant now.

‘Might be an idea to see a doctor. The university health centre…’

‘If you’re thinking of the morning after pill,’ Kirsty interrupted, ‘it’s too late for that.’

‘Yes,’ she was forced to concede. ‘I can see that.’

‘I just thought I’d better tell you.’ Small voice.

Maggie’s heart lurched. At that moment, her only daughter looked so vulnerable. And she was so far away.

‘Do you want to come home?’ was all she could think to ask.

‘No.’

‘I could come down,’ she offered quickly.

Kirsty shrugged. ‘I’ll be okay.’

‘You sure?’ Maggie queried for the second time.

‘Positive.’ Kirsty didn’t at all sound convincing.

‘Ring me again tomorrow, will you, pet?’ Maggie wondered how she was going to get through the evening, never mind a whole day.

Kirsty nodded. ‘I’ll try.’ In the background, a doorbell rang. She looked over her shoulder. ‘Got to go.’ She turned back.

‘I’ll say night-night, then.’ Maggie mouthed the same words she’d repeated ever since her children were infants. Before they started school. Before George died.

A shiver ran down her spine. The previous year – the year her world imploded – she didn’t think life could throw anything else at her. Now she knew different. Talk about life turning in an instant? If her daughter was pregnant…if she wanted to keep the baby…Maggie’s mind seethed with conflicting images. And just when she was getting back on her feet…

‘Night-night.’ Kirsty’s voice broke her train of thought.

Then the line went dead.