Page 117 of Endgame

THIRTY-ONE

ARIELLA

‘You need to go back, Caleb. Samir says you’ve been dodging his calls.’

‘I have, and I’m not going back.’

‘They will easily make the case that you’re causing financial and logistical problems and take legal action against you.’

‘Let them.’

‘We had a plan. It was approved. You can’t just walk out and cancel all your appointments for the foreseeable future.’

‘Christopher, I’m not going back.’

‘He will destroy you, Caleb.’

I intentionally make a noise on the stairs so that Caleb knows I’m there.

‘I’ll call you back.’ Caleb cuts the call. ‘Aari?’

‘Hi. I just wanted some water.’

‘Go back upstairs, I’ll bring it up.’

‘Can we talk?’ I ask as I clear the last step.

‘Of course. Take a seat, I’ll get your water.’

He grabs two waters and when he sits on the couch, I move into his open arms.

‘I heard you. You have to go back.’

‘Aari, I’m not leaving you like this.’

‘I’m beginning to feel a little better.’

‘You’re not, Mason.’ He kisses my head and holds on to me a little tighter. He’s about to say something that he thinks I’m not going to like.

‘Mason, you need to see a doctor and a midwife. We need to get you properly checked out to make sure you’re okay. There are tablets you should be taking. You’ve survived the last couple of months on variations of toast, cheese and ginger tea. Before I can even think about going anywhere, I need to make sure that you’re okay. You don’t have to do anything apart from show up and have the occasional phone conversation. I will do it all, I just need you to let me.’

Everything inside me is rejecting the idea. It’s too big, it’s too daunting, too many new people. Then there will be the prodding, the poking, the pressure to be the happy, bubbly mum. I don’t feel like that at all.

‘Please let me help, Aari,’ Caleb pleads.

‘Okay. Please can we stick to the absolutely essential stuff?’

Caleb hugs me so tightly, I absorb some of his courage.

By the end of the week, I have a new GP, I’ve had an appointment with a midwife and, because I’ve left it a little late, a scan has been confirmed for the following week – by the midwife’s calculation, I’m already at fourteen weeks. Caleb has picked up a load of vitamins that I’ve started taking. To stop me from stressing out, he called Samir and agreed to return after all my tests were done. He’s still going to face some form of disciplinary action, but at least he’s not going to be dragged through court.

On Friday shortly after noon, for the first time, Lara and Caleb left the house together, having asked me to relax on the couch in order to receive a delivery. They’ve been a bittoo close and it’s wonderful to have the house to myself. The ground floor is open, with isolated structure pillars giving away where demarcating walls used to be. The walls are a comforting Scandinavian blue, with white trims surrounding a yellow accent wall. The wool couches are neutral and pristine, with inviting rugs and throws. Everything feels and smells new. The windows flood the living room and kitchen with light and, for the first time, I feel like this could be my home. The huge, gleaming kitchen calls to me. I’ve stayed away, aside from one late night when I came looking for bread. I run my finger along the countertop and it makes me smile. I pull out my first drawer. The doorbell rings, startling me, and I slowly go to answer it.

‘Ariella Mason?’ the smiley woman asks.

‘Yes?’

‘Right. Please can I come in?’

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