Page 59 of Prognosis So Done

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - 0400 HOURS

Harriet roused slowly, coming out of the layers of fog

gradually. Her tongue felt furry and disgusting, her breath tasted bitter. The room was blurry and it took a few moments for it to come into focus. She couldn’t remember where she was, although it was vaguely familiar.

It certainly wasn’t her bedroom in Bondi. She couldn’t hear the familiar beat of waves against the shore but Gill was there. She looked down, his head warm against her arm, his eyes shut and she took a moment just to stare at his face, something she’d done often while he’d slept. Although his features didn’t seem quite as relaxed as usual.

They seemed tense, troubled.

Megan skittered past, adding to the surrealism. Harriet watched her go about her work in a disjointed, puzzled kind of way. Where was she? Was she dreaming? What had happened? There was a dull ache in her stomach and she shut her eyes, sighing blissfully that the pain had gone at last.

And then it all came back to her in horrible Technicolor detail and her eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, displacing Gill.

‘Harriet?’ he said, waking instantly.

Megan saw Harriet’s attempt to sit up and rushed to help. Harriet desperately wanted to tell her to stop fussing, but she felt as weak as a kitten and knew she was flailing hopelessly about like a drunken octopus. Gill joined in, stuffing pillows behind her back.

‘What happened?’ she asked. She’d wanted her voice to sound stronger but her throat was sore and her voice sounded hoarse and it hurt to talk. ‘The baby...’

Megan’s eyes met Gill’s and she melted discreetly away. ‘Harriet...’

She braced herself. From the time they’d first met he had shortened her name to Harry. He’d only ever called her by her proper name during their wedding vows or when things were serious.

‘It was an ectopic. The tube had ruptured. There was

nothing I could do.’

Harriet heard the words as if they were coming from far away, but they hit her with the speed and ferocity of a cobra strike. She couldn’t stop the gasp or the rush of tears. ‘So, I

was...pregnant?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

Tears streamed down her face and she clasped her hand protectively over her stomach. The unfairness of it all was

crippling. The one thing she’d wanted more than anything taken from her before she’d even had a chance to savour the knowledge. She took a few breaths to quell the escalating emotion before she asked the next question. ‘What about the tube?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently. ‘I had to remove it.’

Harriet stared at Gill with tear-filled eyes and he blurred out of focus. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. It just couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t fair.

What had she ever done to deserve this?

Despair took hold and she lashed out at him. ‘Did you even try?’ she demanded, not caring that her voice was loaded with bitterness.

He blew out an unsteady breath. ‘It was a mess, Harriet.’

‘So you didn’t even try?’ Her voice shook and wobbled as the enormity of what he had done hit her hard. A tear ran down her cheek. ‘Even though you promised me you would?’

‘I’m sorry...there was no point. I —’

She sucked in a harsh breath cutting him off and wishing she had the energy to slap him across the face. ‘No point? No point?’ she said, her voice rising sharply.

Was it not bad enough that he had removed a vital part of

her reproduction capabilities? Did he really have to dismiss it like it meant nothing? Pass it off as some clinical surgical decision with no consequences? ‘Speak for yourself.’

He cursed in French. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, Harry...I meant the tube was too damaged to even attempt it.’

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