CHAPTER NINE
LAURA looked calmly down at her. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kelly in confused anguish. ‘It’s all such a shock.’
‘Don’t you want the baby, is that it?’
‘Not want—!’ Kelly gasped. ‘Of course I want the baby,’ she said indignantly.
Laura shrugged. ‘Then where’s the problem?’
‘The baby’s father!’
‘Jordan?’
‘Well, of course Jordan!’
‘Just checking,’ Laura grinned.
‘Well, you can stop right now. Jordan is definitely the father of my child.’ Kelly sighed. ‘He’s been the only man ever in my life.’
‘You sound regretful,’ Laura probed.
‘I think regretful is the wrong word. Maybe if I had been able to love someone else I wouldn’t have fallen for Jordan so easily a second time, and consequently got myself into this mess.’
‘Is that what you feel it is, a mess?’
‘No,’ she sighed again. ‘Do you know what I really feel? Ecstatic!’ Her eyes glowed. ‘I love the thought of carrying Jordan’s child again. But I won’t hold on to him that way!’
‘Have you ever thought of the fact that he might like to be held—any way?’ Laura raised her eyebrows questioningly.
Kelly shook her head. ‘He’s already told me that as soon as my father is well again he wants me out of his life,’ she recalled dully.
‘He actually said that?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Oh,’ Laura frowned, shrugging. ‘I’ll go and get that tea and biscuit.’
‘Laura!’ Kelly stopped her. ‘You won’t tell Jordan the real reason I was ill?’
‘Of course not,’ Laura scorned. ‘Although you do realise it isn’t something you can hide for long?’
‘Mm,’ Kelly grimaced. ‘I was enormous at three months last time.’
Her friend nodded. ‘Some women are like that. How many weeks are you?’
She flushed. ‘Five.’
‘You sound very sure.’
Kelly looked down at her hands. ‘I am.’
‘I won’t be long,’ and Laura left her.
She was pregnant! She wanted to shout, to scream, to cry—and all with happiness. This time nothing would go wrong, this time she would have the baby, with or without Jordan. And she meant it about not keeping him in that way. If he had shown any sign of coming to love her she might have felt differently. But if she couldn’t have Jordan at least she would have his child.
She didn’t need a doctor to confirm her pregnancy, and yet remembering the kindness of Paul Anderson, the specialist who had looked after her the last time, she thought she ought to go and see him. He had been excellent at his job, had always made her feel important, a person, not just a baby-producing machine as so many of these doctors did. Yes, she would make an appointment to see him.