Living in London

Explanation

PREVIOUSLY ON LIVING IN LONDON

"Can you tell me your name?" the doctor asked, shining a light into Ari's eyes. She squinted a little but kept her eyes locked with mine.

"Ariadne Beth Taylor." Her voice was croaky and hoarse from not speaking for months.

"Where were you born?"

"Adelaide, Australia."

"And where are you know?"

Ari sighed impatiently. "London. In a hospital, I presume."

"And what year is it?"

"1942."

We all stared at her in horror. Then she giggled. "Kidding!" The doctor scowled and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

The doctor put his clipboard down and folded his hands in front of him. "Now, Miss Taylor, are you in pain at all?"

She nodded slowly. "My head hurts and my stomach hurts."

The doctor nodded. "Ah, and I'm sure you're wondering why that is?"

Ariadne nodded enthusiastically, cringing when it undoubtedly made her head hurt more.

"Well, I have some grave news for you," the doctor warned. "Do you feel as though you can handle it now, or would you prefer to wait until you've regained some of your strength?"

Ariadne sighed impatiently. "Just spit it out, Doc."

This is it. He's going to tell her.

With his words, I watched every bit of emotion drip off her face, horror filling her eyes.

"I'm sorry to say you've lost the baby."

---

ARIADNE'S POV

"Wh... what?"

What does he mean, I lost the baby? In order for that to happen, I would have to have been... pregnant.

Oh shoot.

I don't even have any time-inappropriate and awkward jokes to make about my situation. Someone should make note of this.

"Do you remember what happened during the earthquake?" the doctor asked me kindly and I shook my head, still staring dazedly ahead.

"From what I've read in the accident reports, you were in Harry's bedroom talking. As the earthquake hit, the bookshelf tipped, landing mainly on your abdomen. As you were pregnant, the shelf would have-"

"Stop," I interrupted.

"wou- what?"

"Stop!" I said more forcefully, shaking my head. "I don't want to hear anymore!"

My voice cracked and tears welled in my eyes.

The doctor stood up awkwardly. "Well... um, we'll just give you a minute then."

I placed my hand against my mouth as tears flowed down my face.

How did I not realise I was pregnant? I mean, the food cravings, the mood-swings, the lack of period, the boob-pain, the casual vomiting (which I had blamed on stress, but still...). It all adds up, now.

I was this close to becoming a mother. I could have had a little baby son or daughter to hold in my arms each night. To sing to and to take on walks in a pram.

When I was seven, Mum and Dad got me a puppy for christmas. I hadn't really thought about owning a puppy. I knew I wanted one when I was older, but seven years old was far too young for all that responsibility, you know? Mum and Dad weren't sure I was ready for a puppy either, but they wanted to give me an opportunity to prove to them how responsible I was. So I did. I kept that puppy and named him Albus. Like from Harry Potter. I loved taking him for walks, bathing him, and being able to hold him up and say "this is my puppy!" the first time he met my friends.