Tilly
Sleep was elusive.
If there had been a clock in the room, Tilly would have been listening to it tick past the seconds. She instead stared into the darkness, waiting for the moments a notification arrived on her phone, the dull light barely splashing against the cream of the walls.
Two a.m.
She messaged a friend down south who was currently camping. He sent her some photos of the beach at night and then texted go the hell to sleep. She responded with the rude finger emoji and set a reminder on her phone to send him a new sleeping bag for his upcoming birthday. The one in the photo was the same he’d had since she’d known him.
Two-thirty a.m.
She wasn’t working in the morning, but still. Sleeping before three would be appreciated.
Instead, all she could think about was stupid Luke and his stupid charming smile and the way he and Evie had lit up around each other at the bar. And the way Evie felt sorry for his stupid side of things.
And the way stupid Evie was meeting stupid Luke tomorrow to talk, because he’d finally messaged her to meet about Luke’s role in Evie’s life.
And the baby’s.
The baby who kicked up a storm whenever Tilly spoke, beating a barely there rhythm against her hand through Evie’s skin.
Never before had Evie dating someone, or sleeping with someone, bothered Tilly. As long as Evie was happy, Tilly was. Tilly wasn’t someone to date, she knew that. Not long term. Evie wasn’t for her, and Tilly had accepted that.
But Luke was getting under Tilly’s skin.
Or under Evie’s.
Tilly blew out a breath of frustration at herself, and rolled over onto her stomach, her head hitting the cooler part of her pillow with a thump. Thinking like this helped no one. It didn’t help Evie or Tilly or the baby. Or stupid Luke and his nice cheekbones. Or her inability to fall asleep at stupid o’clock in the morning.
Turning her head, she rubbed her cheek against the softness of the pillow and stared at the curtains until they started to blur.
The problem was, when she didn’t think about Luke and Evie and the baby, her mind drifted to the rainy pub night. The way Evie had been quiet. Pulling away, not going out for a drink as often or meeting Sean as much. When they were all together, she was ignoring her phone when it rang.
The mystery Tilly had spent a week trying to solve exploded when she’d finally managed to crack it.
The wide-eyed terror in Evie’s eyes as the words had blown up between them. The way her own breath had caught in her chest, catching and choking her. The words Tilly had let go of; the things she knew she couldn’t say.
She didn’t want to think about any of it.
Because it had all started the wedge that was between them now.
The curtains were drifting softly in the breeze of the fan and her eyelids started to drift shut. Everything started to get heavy and weightless at the same time, the curtains fading into darkness and her breathing even. She might have been asleep when she heard a desperate voice.
“Tilly?”
She shot up, legs kicking at the sheets and heart thumping against her ribs so loudly she could hear it. Was that in a dream or did that happen?
“Tilly?”
The whisper came again and the door swung open, light spilling in from the hallway and Evie pallid as all hell, clutching the door handle.
“Evie?”
“Tilly, I, uh. I’m bleeding?”
“What?” Tilly scrambled out of the bed, standing in front of Evie and grabbing at her hands. “What do you mean? I don’t see anything. Were you cooking in the middle of the night?”
Evie grabbed at her hands and held them still, somehow even more wan, freckles stark against her skin. Her eyes were wide, endless pits of pupils even in the light coming from behind her. “No. I went to pee but I’m bleeding.”
Everything went silent, as if Tilly’s ears cut everything off, before sound crashed back in: the blood rushing in her ears, the whirring of the fan, and, very distantly, some traffic. The quick rasp of Evie’s short, shallow breathing.
“Okay,” Tilly said. “Okay. I’m sure it’s fine. It’s fine.”
Evie was still grasping her hands, nodding vigorously. “It’s fine.”
“It is. It’s fine.” Tilly took a breath, realising she needed it. “But let’s go to the hospital.”
“Is that an overreaction?” Evie asked, as if Tilly would know.
Tilly decided to pretend she did. She smiled, and it felt shaky, but it was there, so that was a win. “Of course it’s not. It’s a precaution. But a good one to take, so we can be sure. Was there a lot?”
A head shake, fast, hair flicking around Evie’s cheeks. “More than spotting, but not like, period level.”
“See?” Tilly’s grin was stronger this time. “What are you even complaining about? I’m on my actual period and that’s a real problem.”
The laugh from Evie was forced. “Yeah, well. You are a whinge during your period.”
“Hey! That’s…true.” Tilly gripped Evie’s hands back. “Let’s go to A&E, okay? Just to be safe.”
“But this isn’t an accident. Or an emergency. Is it?” Her eyes were desperate on Tilly.
“Just to be safe,” Tilly repeated, squeezing her hand as hard as Evie’s was squeezing Tilly’s, mustering all the reassurance she could into her voice.
They got dressed quickly, Tilly calling out questions as she thought of them through her bedroom door, one leg in her overalls and tripping as she tugged them on. “Any pain?”
“Nothing, I don’t think.”
“What do you mean, you think?”
A muffled answer, probably as Evie pulled some piece of clothing over her head. “My stomach always feels weird now.”
“Okay. And did you have any spotting before?”
“No.”
They met in the hallway, Evie in a soft grey hoodie and old jeans, eyes too wide and fingers tugging at the ends of her sleeves. Tilly did the only thing she could think to do, and stepped into her space, wrapping her arms around her as tight as she dared. Fingers dug into her back when Evie clutched onto her, clinging as if Tilly were about to disappear into nothing. Her face pressed into Tilly’s neck, her hair soft against Tilly’s face.
“It’ll be okay,” Tilly murmured, lips so close to Evie’s ear that they brushed the shell of it.
Evie shuddered. “It will?”
“It will.”
* * *
Tilly couldn’t give more kudos to A&E: Evie was swept away quickly to a bed, her hand clinging to Tilly’s so she was dragged along. Sterile blue curtains were pulled around them. A nurse gently but quickly tucked Evie’s hoodie under her breasts and then rolled in a machine that looked similar to the one they used to give Evie an ultrasound. The nurse kept giving them reassuring smiles as she slipped a blood pressure cuff around Evie’s arm, chattering a little. The Irish lilt to her words was soothing. Sounds filtered through: the odd shout, the constant murmuring of voices, the beeps and clicks of different devices and machines. The squeak of rubber shoes and wheels on the linoleum floor.
That sterile smell that could only be described as hospital.
Tilly hated hospitals.
The curtain was tugged aside, the rungs rattling on the curtain rail, and Tilly sat up.
A short woman smiled at them. “Good night. Or morning.” Her Indian accent was reminiscent of Sean’s father, and her warm greeting bloomed out into the painful fluorescent light. “I’m Doctor Laghari. But you can call me Prisha. I’m the OBGYN. I hear you’ve had some bleeding?”
Evie talked while Tilly held her hand. Her other hand itched to lie over Evie’s stomach, to see if the baby would kick at her, let her know it was there. That was a part of Evie, growing and growing and starting to move and respond.
Tilly didn’t want it going anywhere.
Prisha set up the ultrasound machine, Evie not even wincing at the cold gel.
Then that sound that Tilly and Evie first heard together filled their ears again, fast and rapid. Strong. Exactly as it had sounded in every past check-up.
“Is that the baby’s heartbeat?” Evie asked.
She was still so drained: hollows under her eyes, lips a little chapped.
She looked beautiful and terrified. Insecurity wrapped around her like a shroud.
“Yes,” Prisha said, her smile genuine. “It is.”
The crack of a smile that bloomed on Evie’s lips in return was relief that Tilly could almost taste.
Prisha glanced at the monitor before looking back at Evie. “Still in there, and everything fine from what I can see.” Her phone made a sound, and she glanced down at it. “I’ll be right back, but I promise, everything looks good.”
And she was gone, leaving behind the soothing memory of the baby’s heartbeat racing away.
Evie dropped her head back heavily on the pillow. Tilly shuffled her chair closer, their hands still clasped between them. They were a clammy mess, but neither were inclined to let go. Evie turned her head and stared straight at Tilly, her smile wobbly and eyes wet. “Still in there,” she said.
Tilly laid her head next to their hands, looking up at her. “Still in there.”
Evie swallowed and clung to her and they lay there, the din from A&E on the other side of the curtains seeming an age away.
“Will it stay in there?” Evie whispered.
Tilly squeezed her hand. Evie’s eyes were darting all over Tilly’s face as if trying to read her for the truth. So Tilly offered her some. “I hope so.”
Her gaze stilled on Tilly’s eyes. “You do?”
Tilly nodded, the stiff sheet crackling like the pillow under her ear. “I do.”
“So do I,” Evie’s voice cracked. “I don’t think I realised how much until right now.”
Their hands clung tighter between them and words built in Tilly’s throat. Words always there, even after she’d thought she’d sent them far away. Words that had been in her chest since she’d met Evie and their friendship had been built in the four walls of their tiny, messy shared room their first year at university.
Tilly swallowed and closed her eyes again, clinging to Evie’s hand and imagining she could still hear that fluttering heartbeat that had filled their ears moments before. Don’t go, she willed it. Please don’t go.
Did Evie ever think the same thing about Tilly?
The curtain was tugged aside, the rungs rattling again.
Prisha was back. “Sorry about that.” She gave Evie a soft smile. “I just need to do an exam.” Prisha pulled over a trolley with various pieces of equipment on it.
Tilly took that as her cue to leave and stood up, Evie’s hand still in hers.
Their hands locked tighter as Evie gripped harder for a moment. Tilly smiled and, for a second, Tilly thought Evie wouldn’t let go. She tried for reassuring and Evie squeezed again. Finally, their hands fell apart and Tilly stepped out, looking over her shoulder one more time for another smile that she hoped reached her eyes.
Evie looked tiny on the bed.
Such a cliché.
But she did.
Tilly felt in the way even outside the curtained-off space behind her. Other blue curtains spilled out to her left and right, scrub-clad nurses and doctors moving around, stethoscopes around their necks or jammed into their pockets, some looking harried, some calm among the chaos. A doctor with a clipboard side-stepped Tilly as if it was second nature. She was so in the way. Tilly stepped back and the fabric around Evie’s bed brushed her hands. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, the sound of the heartbeat reached her ears. The soft voices of the doctor, reassuring and calm, and Evie, voice tight even when hushed, also filtered out.
Being out here felt wrong. She should be in there with Evie, holding her hand and answering questions too.
That need to be there, to stay and cement herself, crawled under Tilly’s skin and settled, seeping into her muscles, stitching itself into her marrow until it was a part of the very cells that moved through her veins.
Her eyes snapped open. That need was here now, but would it stay?
Evie deserved more than Tilly running off.
The baby would deserve more than that.
The lines were blurred already. Tilly knew that. Knew she was so implanted in Evie’s life, even though she up and left it all the time. But that was different. Evie knew what and who Tilly was. Had known for a very long time and still chose to have her in her life. But that wasn’t all. Evie wanted Tilly in her life. She was an adult who made that decision. And last time Tilly was away, seeing her parents and her sister in Melbourne, she’d pondered life while surrounded by trams and museums and a city she both loved and hated with everything in her. It had occurred to her, after a decade of friendship and something so deep it felt a part of the beat of her heart, that maybe she’d been wrong all these years. That Sean had been.
That fight, those words with Evie on rainy pub night, those ponderings in the time after, had awoken something in her.
Something that took root in her. Grew too quickly for her liking. Something she’d returned with, ready to say. Because Evie knew who Tilly was, that she left, but maybe she could be okay with it and they could be something more.
But now there was going to be a baby.
Maybe.
Something clenched in her stomach, a hard, tight ball of fear. Maybe, just maybe, there wasn’t going to be one. She clasped the material of the curtain in her hand and squeezed. Anything to feel rooted to the spot. Evie wanted this baby. So did Tilly.
A team clad in lab coats rushed past, dragging a cart full of equipment with them. The smell of disinfectant was so strong. A few beds away, someone gave a sob.
Tilly squeezed her eyes shut.
She really hated hospitals.
“Tilly?” The doctor’s head popped between the curtains and she gave her a soft smile. “You can come back in.”
Tilly slipped back between the curtains and sat next to Evie. Evie was sitting up, hands linked over her belly, but she dropped one immediately to entwine her fingers with Tilly’s. Evie looked exhausted and drawn still, but her smile did reach her eyes.
“Evie said I can fill you in,” Prisha said. “The bleeding was light, and seems to have stopped. The examination showed everything is in place and the baby is fine. This happens sometimes, and is nothing to worry about considering there seems to be no underlying cause. We recommend a couple of days of taking it easy and if Evie is okay after forty-eight hours, she can get back to her life. Spotting can be expected, but anything more, or if it goes on for more than a few days, come straight back in.” She smiled and picked up Evie’s chart. “I know this can be frightening, but it really is quite common. If you’re worried, better to be safe than sorry. But I suspect after some bed rest, it’ll be back to normal. Very rarely, this can lead to some complications, but I don’t have any reason to suspect that right now, and your ultrasound showed nothing concerning. Okay?”
Tilly’s shoulders sagged a little, fingers tingling with the relief. “Okay.”
“Great. Evie might need someone around to help her out and get her back here if she needs. Are you able to take some time off?”
“Yes, I work from home most of the time and my other job is casual, I can take it off.”
Evie let out a long breath at her affirmative.
Even if her boss said Tilly couldn’t, she’d quit her job.
“That’s good.” Turning to Evie, Prisha said, “If you can, get in to see your midwife or OBGYN next week for a quick check-up, okay?”
“Okay,” Evie said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
And with a final smile, Prisha disappeared and they were alone.
“The baby’s kicking,” Evie whispered.
And she tugged Tilly’s hand up, over her stomach, and they both sat there in relief for a moment, the gentle, barely there tap of the baby against their joined hands.