64. Isabel
My morning walks to the monastery gave me plenty of time to reminisce. And by reminisce I mean dreaming of the time Roman and I spent together. My memories had become more like a mirage, unreachable and undulating in the distance, and there was a small part of me that feared I’d eventually lose them altogether.
But the one thing that remained steady beneath the even lull of my beating heart was my love for Roman. Even after all the heartache and pain, my feelings for him had not diminished even one little bit. And I didn’t really know how to feel about that.
It was at my eleventh week at Abbey Chatoise when one morning, at breakfast, I was hit by a wave of nausea. It went away as quickly as it came, but not before Mother Clara took notice though. Then it started happening every morning and by the fourth day, Mother Clara asked me to come to her office.
I found her smoking one of her clove cigarettes, blowing smoke out an open crack in the window. She immediately put out the cigarette when I arrived.
It drew a smile from me. “You can smoke, I don’t mind.”
But Mother Clara wasn’t in a chatty mood. “Please sit down, Isabel.”
Icy dread washed over me. My mind immediately went to a dark place. Was Meg okay? Henry? Oh my God, was it Roman?
I sat down. “Is everything okay?” I asked nervously.
“Everything is fine, ma chérie,” Mother Clara said and clasped her hands in front of her. “I just have a question for you. When was the last time you had your monthly bleed?”
To say I was caught off guard would be putting it mildly. “I don’t know, a while ago,” I said, mentally counting the weeks. “I just thought with the stress…and not being on the pill anymore, could be the reason I’m late.”
“Could you be pregnant?”
I must have heard wrong because she didn’t just ask me if I could be pregnant. “No, no, I was on the pill when…well…so, no chance,” I said but even as I uttered the words a thought struck me. The few days before going back to Roman, I was sick. So sick that I might have thrown up the birth control pills I had taken.
I instinctively flinched. My eyes were drawn to Jesus on the Cross before meeting Mother Clara’s gaze. “Oh shit,” I muttered. “Do you think…?”
If Mother Clara was upset or surprised, it didn’t show. She hauled a pregnancy test from her top drawer. “I took the liberty to get you a test. The sooner we know, the sooner we can get you to a doctor and get you prenatal care.”
My skin prickled as I scraped the pregnancy test from the desk. “Thank you, I’ll…I’ll go take the test…and…okay, I’ll go now. See you in a bit.”
Going to the bathroom was the longest walk of my life. And it wasn’t made easier passing all the pictures of saints on my way. Not like they were my biggest worry right now, but still, I could see the judgement in their eyes.
I waited and waited before finally taking the test, as if by delaying it somehow the problem would magically disappear. Finally I did the test and if I had my phone I would have texted Meg so she could virtually hold my hand while we waited with breathless tension for the results.
At exactly three minutes it all came crashing down, and quite bizarrely I also felt like I was on top of the world. What exactly I was so happy about was a mystery because things just got a whole lot more complicated. And by complicated I meant off the fucking charts insane.
Mother Clara sat me down with a cup of chamomile tea and held my hand. “I don’t want you to feel you’re alone. You can stay here for as long as you want.”
“Thank you, but what will you tell the sisters. And what if someone should find out?”
“Isabel, we live in a small convent in a very small town, in the middle of the countryside. I don’t expect anyone from the outside world to barge in here and snoop around for a pregnant woman. You’ll be safe here.”
Pregnant woman. My insides jolted once again at those words. The idea. The reality. Oh God.
“I should go and start lunch, the vegetables need to be cut,” I said, desperate to exhaust myself with work.
“We’re not done talking,” Mother Clara said. “Listen to me, I want you to take on fewer duties. No more milking the goats. They tend to get grouchy and then they kick. Best stay out of harm’s way. You’re welcome to bake bread if you feel up to it, but leave the cleaning up to Sisters Reine and Sabine, please. And one more thing. When will you let the baby’s father know?”
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. I had no idea what Roman’s reaction to a baby might be, but it would definitely upset the Belmont apple cart if I announced my pregnancy before the rightful heirs were born. And I didn’t want to deal with that, especially now.
I shook my head, voice wavering. “I don’t want him to know.”
“Are you sure about that, Isabel? Don’t you think he deserves to know?”
“That’s not a family that would welcome this baby with open arms. And no child should ever feel unwanted. So, no, it’s best he doesn’t know.”
Sudden tears dripped down my cheeks. I blamed the new surge of hormones and not the fact that nothing would give me more joy than telling Roman he was going to be a dad. “I really have to start the food. The sisters get testy when their lunch is late.”
Mother Clara nodded. “Of course. We’ll talk again tonight.
As I walked to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if Roman and I were just a normal couple in love, expecting a baby. I wiped my face, unable to keep a whimper from escaping. I should never have walked into that bookshop. Imagine the torment I could have spared myself.
Except now, there was nothing more important than this baby. And the most crucial thing was that Roman could never find out.