✨️ONC 2023 Shortlisted✨️
'And I knew then, with an earth-shattering certainty, that everything I'd worked for, strived for, suffered for, had just turned to dust. My life as I knew it, scattered along the pavement with shards of windscreen and the c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I flinch as the ice-cold jelly is slapped across my stomach. I hiss and Mum giggles, hovering awkwardly at my side, an unmovable smile on her face. The plastic instrument moves across my skin, pressing hard into my flesh and I try not to squirm. My eyes are everywhere in the darkened room - the ceiling, the floor, the greying-white curtain. Everywhere but the monitor. Then the sound starts, and it's a wet, echoing sound. My heart flutters too fast. My teeth bite hard into my bottom lip and I shut my eyes tight.
"There..." the white-coated technician mumbles, the squelching sound growing. "... we go."
Mum gasps when the throbbing starts, a hand covering her mouth. I'm breathing so hard, it's almost drowning out the sound. It's swollen, aching sound filled with promise. The room is filled with it - the sound of my baby's heartbeat. The sound is pounding its way into my skull. I am completely frozen. My body locked tight.
"Annabel... look..." Slowly, with my eyes still pressed shut, I turn my head. When I open them, there on the screen, moving along with the heartbeat... is my baby. Mum squeals, and I see her tears catching the faint light of the room. I have no words, nothing I can say could capture this avalanche of feeling slamming into me. Of confusion, of terror and something new, something I haven't felt really before - excitement.
***
I feel numb as I walk through the door, the scent of breakfast reminding me I was here only a few hours ago, but I feel like the world has shifted. The strip of glossy paper is clutched in my shaky grip, reminding me, as if I could forget, what I'd seen on the screen earlier.
Mum scuffs her shoes on the mat. I faintly hear her follow behind me as I walk into the front room, sinking down on my usual spot on the settee. She hovers awkwardly, a flush still on her cheeks. She'd cried, wept, and though I saw joy, I saw some sadness too. A strained silence had hung between us since we'd left.
"Where's the tree?" I blink slowly, the mundane nature of her question dragging me away from the fog of feeling.
"What?"
"Why doesn't your dad have a Christmas tree yet? It's Christmas Eve tomorrow?"
I look up at her. It's a serious question like she's genuinely concerned by the lack of Christmas decorations in the room. She's just seen her grandchild's heart beating wildly in the belly of her teenage daughter, and she's worried about a tree?
"And you think he's planning on decorating now?" I roll my eyes. "I couldn't really see the point of enforced merriment. I think there's some yule log in the cupboard if you're truly concerned about the lack of Christmas spirit."
She huffs, folding her arms across her chest.
"Pack your things. You're coming home. You can't spend Christmas like this."
I snort and actually giggle.
"So this place is suitable for me every day apart from Christmas?"
