Page 31 of Just Say (Hell) No
Nyree put up a hand. “Hang on. Stoppage of play.” Ella was running her thumbs over her fingertips in a way that Nyree guessed was meant to stop her biting her nails. “Here. We’re going to sit down.” She led the girl over to the bed display—Ella was right, a starker and more dreary collection of furniture could not be imagined, however much it cost—sat on a plastic-covered mattress, and pulled Ella down beside her. Marko didn’t sit, but sincehedidn’t look like he was about to cry, that was fine. He could stand in front of them and glower. “Tell me what the plan is,” she said to Ella. “You’re pregnant, and you’re here to go to school. That’s all I know. Here for how long?”
“Until the baby,” Ella said. “Is it OK to sit on their ugly beds?”
“That’s why they’ve got plastic on. When is the baby due?”
“September sometime. Probably. They won’t know until they do a sonogram, they said. With a midwife, I guess. I have to find somebody.”
Where was this girl’s mother? “Which means you’re, what, four months pregnant?”
“Uh, yeh,” Ella said. “Somewhere in there. I don’t remember exactly.”
When her last period had been, Nyree guessed. “And when the baby comes,” she asked, “what happens?”
The thumbs were working overtime. “It gets adopted. And I go home. That’s the plan.”
“So,” Nyree said slowly, “you’re worried that you’re asking Marko to buy you all this, and that you should get what he wants. But you don’t know exactly what he wants, and this stuff is more expensive than what anybody you know could afford. And then there’s the fact that it’s horrible.”
“Oi,” Marko said, but she ignored him.
“It’s just that… “ Ella took a deep breath. “That the room’s sowhite.Like somebody’s going to do surgery any minute. All right, I know it’s ungrateful, and it has a beautiful view and all, but I wish it could be a place like yours. More cozy, to hang out in. Not so…” She swept an arm around. “Land of the Future. Android World.”
“I know what you mean,” Nyree said. “I need my nest. Place to hide, eh.”
“Yes.”Nyree thought she might be seeing some tears, and then not, because Ella blew out a breath and said, “But maybe it won’t look so bad if I get colored sheets and some cute pillows. I should just pick, I guess. Sorry.”
She stopped talking and stood up. In her too-tight shirt and too-short skirt, because she’d outgrown her bra and her clothes and hadn’t known what to do about that. And Marko said, seeming to choose his words with care, “You should get what you want. If you don’t like this, we’ll go somewhere else.”
“Except that you don’t know where,” Ella said. “And I don’t, either. Besides, you likethis,and it’s taking too long, and it’s your day off. I can’t pick, though. I just can’t see anything that looks… any better. So I wish you’d pick something instead. Get it over with. And then we can go to the Warehouse and buy a duvet cover. White. Better than brown, at least.”
Could anybody look more miserable than a sixteen-year-old girl? Could every little thing matter more to anyone than it did at that age, even if sheweren’tfacing pregnancy and a new school?
As she always did at times like this, Nyree thought,What would Nan do?
Just now? That was easy. “Cup of tea,” she said, and stood up herself. “Food court. I need to go find the toilets first, though. Come with me, Ella.” She told Marko, “We’ll come join you. Cup of tea. Herbal. Get one for you and me as well.”
It took her a second to realize why he was standing there staring at her. Because she’d ordered him.
He went, though. So oh, well.
When Marko saw Nyree next, she was alone. Which was good, because he needed to talk to her. And bad, because he’d swear she was going to talk tohim.And that he might not want to hear it.
He’d just loaded up the tray, and she said, “Over here,” and led him to a quiet corner. “Ella needs a few more minutes. I think she cried in the stall. Not a crier, I’m guessing. She could need some recovery time.”
“No. Girls get odd, though. Emotional. She’s normally much calmer than this.”
“Well,” Nyree said, and he didn’t miss the dryness in her tone, “sheispregnant. Hormones, eh.”
“I’ll take your word for it. And I don’t care what furniture she gets, although that looked fine to me. Not if it’s going to make her miserable. How can furniture make somebody miserable? It’s a bloody tallboy, not a Dementor.”
“Harry Potter. You’re a man of many surprises.”
“A man of three little sisters, that’s all. But misery-inducing furniture?”
“Because it’s hideous. I’d be miserable, too.”
“Cheers.”
“You’re welcome. Beyond the furniture, though—she needs maternity clothes. She needs themnow.Where’s her mum?”
