Her Melting Point

Expect, or Not to Expect

The next morning it turned out that among other calls, she'd missed one from the clinic. She listened to the message while Alexander's kettle was boiling water for her pour-over. The results of her tests were back; and she listened to the voicemail twice, although she knew she wouldn't be able to decipher anything in the nurse's tone.

And then she spent an hour at the table, with an untouched cup of coffee in front of her, thinking. It was unnecessary, she'd made her decision the night before, after Alexander had left - but scrapping the whole year - full of tests, visits to the clinic, consultations, worrying and hoping, and holding herself back from imagining all the 'what if's' and 'but maybe's' - wasn't that easy.

She climbed back into the bed; wrapped in the duvet, with her head, like a Russian doll with a shawl; and pulled her knees to her chest.

"Good morning. Complete Family Fertility and IVF Clinic," a vaguely familiar nurse answered. "How may I help you?"

"Good morning, this is Jocelyn Burns."

"Good morning, Ms. Burns." There was a faint clicking of a keyboard on the other end of the line. "We've received the results of your AFC ultrasound. When would you like to come in to talk to your doctor?"

"I– I'll have to get back to you on that," Jackie answered shakily - and internally cursed her indecisiveness.

She should just let the clinic know that the whole treatment needed to be cancelled. No one would ask for an explanation. Nothing important had been done yet: they hadn't collected any eggs; that is, if any of them were even viable; and she hadn't even looked into finding a donor.

Just say it, she ordered herself. Tell them that it's obvious you can't take care of yourself, yesterday being an excellent example; so you can't be trusted with a child.

"Very well." The nurse tapped more keys. "Would you like me to contact you in ten days as per our usual procedure?"

"Yes, please," Jackie blurted out. "I mean, no, no, thank you. I'll give you a ring myself."

"Of course, Ms. Burns. Please be advised that you might require a repeated procedure if the doctor deems it necessary after a prolonged period."

"Yes, yes, of course." Jackie pressed her forehead to her knees. "Thank you."

The nurse said polite goodbyes and hung up. Jackie threw the phone onto the duvet, hugged her legs tightly, and burst into tears.

***

She climbed out of the cab on her new home street, lugging a basket that she'd purchased in Fleckney Woulds, after her. To her relief the cabbie was unfamiliar; although just as Mr. Rogers, this one had also bestowed her with a few pearls of wisdom, including, once again, about the benefits of a payment app for her phone. Jackie had cried for three hours in the morning, had a nightmare-filled nap, and then ran around the county town in search of an appropriate present. Only years of keeping her temper at bay allowed her to refrain from telling him to naff off.

As she approached the cottage next to the Old School, Jackie remembered that the rule of thumb was that if the outer door of a house in Fleckney was open, one was allowed to ring the bell. So, unless things had changed dramatically in Fleckney, she could expect a short doorstep chat with the unknown Mrs. Svensson and could even be invited for a cuppa. Jackie would, of course, politely decline.

Balancing the basket in her left hand, she walked through a tiny vestibule and gingerly touched the button on the camera lock on the internal door door. A simplified rendition of the Beatles' Here Comes the Sun pealed through the cottage.