Free The Sisterhood by Emily Barr

was happening.
    Christmas had been horrible, as I spent two days with Dad and Sue pretending to drink, and the rest of the holidays wallowing by myself. Next Christmas would be different, because if all went well, I would have a four-month-old baby. That was beyond my capabilities to imagine.
    Lying in bed, listening to the parties going on around me, I wondered whether it was really going to be harder doing it on my own than it would have been with Steve. I concluded that I would have ended up on my own pretty swiftly anyway. It didn't really matter.
    What mattered was that I had a network, that my baby had other people than me in its life. I was trying to persuade myself that Rosa really was the father, although until I had a dating scan, I was going to cling to the shred of hope that it might be Steve's.
    Lying in bed last night, listening to other people having fun, I'd made a resolution. Although my instincts were still yelling at me to leave Rosa out of my life and my baby's life, I was going to try to overcome my fear and contact her. That was the mature thing to do. However bizarre the circumstances, Rosa had fathered my baby, and she had a right to know about it. I was trying to convince myself to stop being afraid of her, and ashamed of what I'd done that night. I was going to do my best to track her down and share the news. I would not be scared of her reaction. I would just tell her. Then I would walk away and leave her alone until she wanted to talk to me, if she ever did.
    I vaguely remembered that Matt had addressed her as 'mate', and that she had given him the finger. This made me think that he'd known her for a while. He was the only lead I had. As soon as I'd had a scan, I was going to tell the father. If it was Rosa, she would hate me. I hoped she might come around to the idea, in time. If it was Steve, he would assume I had done it on purpose, that I was trying to trap him. Either way, I was going to piss somebody off.
     
    I was nearly at the café when I gradually became half aware that someone was walking towards me. Without looking up, I moved to the edge of the pavement, to let them pass. They didn't. They stopped in front of me and put their hands on my shoulders. I looked up. When I saw who it was, I shrugged his hands away.
    'Steve,' I said, and turned away. At least my bizarre conception had stopped me obsessing over him. I tried to think of something to say. I didn't look at his face. 'Hello,' I said, and tried to keep walking.
    'Hi, Lizzy,' he said, and finally I looked at him. Unfortunately, it still gave me a pang. I had loved him for years and years. Nothing changed that. He had a handsome face that was getting craggy as he got older. It suited him. So did his hair, which was now professorially long and messy. The black was sprinkled with more grey than I remembered.
    'Hello,' I said again. 'What brings you here?'
    He smiled. 'New Year's resolution,' he said. 'Can I come back for a coffee?'
    'I was on my way to Matt's.'
    'Join you?'
    It felt odd, to be walking with him again. We reached the top of the road, and turned right. Every shop on the little row was closed. The scummy newsagent, the grotty, expensive food shop. These were the retail outlets of our life together. As far as these shut and barred façades were concerned, Steve and Liz were walking together to the café, as usual. Nothing had changed, in their view.
    We didn't say anything as we walked. I was suddenly tired, exhausted to the point where I had no idea whether I would be able to reach our destination without stopping for a quick nap in someone's doorway. I wished I had stayed in bed. I could have listened to Steve ringing the bell, and I could have ignored him. I wouldn't have done, though. I would have answered it.
    I wanted to tell him. I couldn't tell him.
    The café's windows were half misted over, and I could see a couple of figures inside. When we stepped in, it was unfeasibly warm. Frank Sinatra was playing on the