I Think I'll Just Curl Up and Die by Rosie Rushton Read Free Book Online Page A

people’s standards he had done well – senior member of a respected firm of estate agents, nice house on Billing Hill, son at private school. But what was it all for? What did it mean? And if he died tomorrow, what mark would he have left on the world?
    Even the hopes he had cherished for Jon seemed to be coming to nothing. Once Henry realised that his owncareer was never going to hit the heights, he’d hung all his hopes on being the father of Jon Joseph, renowned barrister. This art school idea of his was, Henry feared, no mere flash in the pan. The lad spent all his spare time sketching and painting and designing and now his mother was launching herself into this design lark, they would probably both be in huddles talking about Rembrandt and Andy Warhol and he’d feel left out.
    He couldn’t bear the thought of being shut out of Jon’s life. He had always assumed he and Anona would have a whole brood of kids but it hadn’t worked out like that. He had to hang on to Jon. He had to think of some way of strengthening the bond, of remaining a big part of his life.
    As it turned out, fate was due to give him a helping hand.

Chapter Twenty-Two
In at the Deep End
    By Saturday afternoon, Mrs Turnbull knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. Laura was going out to The Stomping Ground for the evening and Melvyn was coming for Sunday lunch the following day. If she didn’t tell her the news now, she wouldn’t get a chance andMelvyn was in such a state of excitement that he would be bound to let something slip and that would be a recipe for disaster.
    She tapped on Laura’s bedroom door.
    â€˜Can I come in, love?’ she asked.
    A muffled grunt emitted from the other side.
    Laura, her ginger hair scooped back in a hair band, was sitting in front of her dressing table mirror, frowning, open-mouthed, and wielding an eyeliner pencil.
    â€˜Are you OK now?’ Laura enquired. Her mother had been sick again that morning – but then, she’d been out with Mrs Gee the evening before, so they had probably been drinking vast quantities of wine. She couldn’t be properly ill because she was always fine by the time Laura got home from school.
    â€˜Well, not really, that is …’ Oh gosh, this isn’t going to be easy, thought Mrs Turnbull, flopping down on Laura’s bed and running her fingers through her hair. Where do I begin?
    â€˜What is it? You’re not
still
ill, are you?’ said Laura accusingly.
    â€˜No. Yes. Well, sort of,’ began her mother, ‘the thing is …’
    â€˜Oh my God,’ interrupted Laura, dropping her eyeliner pencil on the floor and turning to her mother. ‘You’ve got one of those awful diseases, haven’t you? That’s why you keep throwing up. You’ve been given weeks to live, and I’m going to be an orphan – oh my … ’
    â€˜NO! No, of course I haven’t. Don’t be daft – there’s nothing wrong with me. Well, not like that anyway,’ said Mrs Turnbull. ‘The thing is – well, actually -’ she took a deep breath, ‘I’m pregnant.’
    Laura stared at her mother in disbelief.
    â€˜You’re – WHAT?’ she exclaimed.
    â€˜I’m going to have a baby,’ said her mother, smiling in what she hoped was a confident and relaxed manner. ‘Sometime early March, I guess.’
    â€˜A baby – YOU? But you can’t – I mean – that’s disgusting!’ shouted Laura, knocking over a pot of foundation in her fury. ‘You – at your age – having a baby! Oh Mum, how could you?’ Laura’s eyes filled with angry tears. ‘I suppose that jerk Melvyn is responsible?’
    â€˜Well, yes, he did have something to do with it,’ said Ruth wryly. ‘Who do you think?’
    â€˜But – that’s disgusting!’ she cried. ‘You’ll have to get rid of