Hold My Girl

Chapter 5

November 2018
14 weeks

Waiting is torture. I spend all weekend, glued to my phone, continuously checking my direct messages and my call log just to see if I magically missed the notification and Harry has in fact messaged or called. But I miss no notifications because he doesn't call. Which means he's either missed my message or seen it and chosen to ignore it. But it doesn't stop me acting like a teenage school girl, unable to put my phone down because I'm sure the second I do is the second he'll call. But the call never comes.

My meeting with Gerry Fortnam goes swimmingly well on Monday morning, despite my permanently distracted aura. We come up with a clear schedule of what he wants done and when he wants it by. It's a lot and it's enough to keep me swamped at work, which gives me less time to obsess over Harry and our lack of communication.

The night before my midwife appointment, I send him another message, this time on Twitter, asking him to please get in contact. He does not.

The appointment goes without a hitch. It's a much quicker appointment. My midwife checks my blood pressure, which is normal, she takes a shit ton of blood to test, she also asks me to pee in a tiny viale which she checks and tells me it is also normal which is always reassuring to know.

November
16 Weeks

It gets to the night before my 16 week scan and I've still heard nothing from Harry. In 3 weeks I've sent him 8 messages in total. Each of which has gone unanswered.

"You're going to need to try a different approach" Allison suggests, as we sit at the dinner table after my wonderfully prepared Omelette is demolished.

I shrug dejectedly. His lack of communication is pissing me off. I've sent 8 messages and he's not answered one of them. Does he just not care what I have to say?

"Do you want to do a drive by?" Allison suggests.

"A what now?" I asked perplexed.

"I brought my car with me tonight. We could take a drive by his house. If it looks like he's in then you could chap his door"

"Gate" I correct her as I mull over the idea.

Now it's Allison's turn to look perplexed.

"There's a gate to get in the driveway. I couldn't just walk up to his door.

"Oh, ok, well whatever. Door, gate, do you want to go?"

"I don't suppose I have many other options"

"Do you want to get changed first?" Allison asks as I get up and pull my navy coat on over my grey jumper and black leggings.

"I don't need to impress him. I'm going to tell the man I'm carrying his child" As I head to the front door, I fish through my notes and pull out a few scan pictures and zip them carefully into my pocket. I pull on my black ankle boots, then lock the door behind us as Allison hurries our behind me. We make it into Allison's 1000 year old rust bucket she calls a car.

This old thing must be at least 11 years old. It's done well over 80,000 miles, it rattles and whines when it goes over 40 miles an hour but Allison only ever uses it when she drives down to Devon to see her parents or in emergencies. Which is now I guess.

"Least the heaters still work" I chuckle as I try to heat my hands. It's the middle of November and winter has well and truly settled in. The car lights guide us as I direct us North, towards Harry's house. I surprise myself by getting us there quickly and without getting us lost.

"Do you think he's in?" Allison asks as she parks up on the pavement across the road.

"There looks to be lights on" I point to an upper floor where a few lights can be seen poking out the side of curtains and behind blinds.