A quizzical look and she stared at the image in the mirror. There was something different about her reflection. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had put on weight lately.
It couldn’t be what she thought. Pregnant, and without any father in sight. She turned and looked at herself from the side. How long ago was it when she had her period. One month, three, or even four, but then she had the implant. Getting pregnant after a one night stand.
All those lectures she gave her teenager daughter, and now she was having a baby, and the father was nowhere. Not that she wanted the father around. There was something about the creepy way he looked at her while she was sleeping.
”Mum, you seen my P.E kit. You said you would wash it!’
‘What, just take in a pair of jogging bottoms for today, they’re black, and a black t shirt. I’ll phone your school later.
‘Mum! I can’t do that. It has to be proper school kit, you know that!’
She was too tired to argue, and shifted away from the mirror. If she were pregnant, it would mean double the work load. Stacey was the epitaph of a moody teenager. Everything that went wrong, could go wrong.
‘I hate you! You don’t understand. It’s your fault I’m going to get laughed at. God, you don’t understand anything do you!’
Too tired to argue, Joanne stepped away from the mirror, and into the light of the hallway. Littered with football boots, clothes, her home was in chaos already. Another baby would mean more work . . .
‘Mum,’ Michael said, and tugged at her skirt.
Five years old, and still not at the stage where he hated her . . . she patted her stomach and knew what she needed to do. It might not be ideal, but this baby was a part of her.
All she had to do now was make a plan.