It wasn’t the nicest place to do it. The floor was sticky and Annalise didn’t want to think about what had made it that way. The smell of faeces was barely covered up with citrus air freshener. It was 2 am, and this setting seemed like a fitting place for her to conclude her ruined Tuesday night.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch after drinking alone in her pyjamas and woken with a start to find her mouth dry and the television flickering silently in front of her. She didn’t know what made her think of it; it was as though she’d plucked the idea from her dreams. No, that wasn’t true. The thought had been edging its way to the surface for the last couple of weeks, it was only that she’d been ignoring it. Willing it away. But as the pepperoni pizza churned in her stomach, she knew it had reached the point where she could no longer pretend the signs weren’t there. She had to know for sure.
She’d thrown on clothes, a jacket and a beanie and walked swiftly down the road to the 24-hour chemist. Inside, the shock of the harsh lights made her pupils constrict and she squinted as her eyes slowly adjusted. She found the family-planning section, grabbed the first test she saw and took it up to the register. She waited for the middle-aged man behind the counter to judge her: A tired woman with couch-cushion creases on one side of her face and a fleck of pizza sauce in the corner of her mouth buying a pregnancy test at almost 2 am.
But he didn’t react, he scanned the box, accepted payment and passed back her purchase as though it was nothing more than a pack of chewing gum.
She was going to walk back home and take the test in her apartment, but halfway there she detoured into a service station and asked the young girl inside for the key to the bathrooms around the back. The key was attached to a large wooden board. ‘Make sure you bring it back,’ said the girl.
‘How could I forget?’
Now she paused in front of the scratched and worn sheet metal that hung on the wall as a substitute for a mirror. Her mottled reflection looked back at her. She remembered standing in front of her bathroom mirror that night after she’d slept with Lawrence, before kicking him out. She remembered how she’d tried to remind herself she was powerful, that she was in control. She didn’t feel powerful now. She didn’t feel in control. She hated that girl for her pathetic attempts at being tough.
This time as she looked at herself, she felt only guilt.
This was her mistake. She was responsible for her own body. She should have been more careful. And she knew what the answer was going to be. She’d known it well before she’d walked down to the chemist and made her purchase. Well before she stepped inside this dark and dingy bathroom. Well before she squatted above the stained toilet seat and peed on a small white stick.
Her period had been late before; she’d never really been especially regular. That’s why she didn’t realise right away. So what had tipped her off? She supposed it was the way she’d been acting. Getting confused about things. Losing her temper . . . more than usual. Hormonal. Being so weird about that whole thing with Harmony next door. Arguing with Poppy. Slipping up. Playing soccer so badly. And of course, those flashes of nausea that had hit her on and off over the past couple of weeks.
It was all enough to tell her there was something going on.
This test would just confirm it for her.
She finished counting out the three minutes. She picked up the stick. One line. She waited. She might have known the truth, but still she willed the second line to remain invisible. It ignored her pleas. It swam to the surface. Tears fell and she slammed her fist against the metal on the wall in front of her.
How could she have been so foolish?
Now she had a choice to make.
But really, there could only be one answer.