It went disastrously wrong the moment Charles entered his house. Catherine met him in the hall, “Daddy where have you been? Barbara said you’d rescheduled your appointments for today, but Bob Jenkins needed to speak with you urgently. They’ve both been ringing here and…” By this time Catherine had walked right up to her father and her eyes narrowed, “That smell…daddy? You’ve been down to the tunnels haven’t you?” She asked accusingly, “And don’t even try to deny it, I’d know that smell anywhere!”

The tunnels had a definite odour not found anywhere else, of damp rock, old books and candle wax.

Charles didn’t know what to say, so he stuck to the truth, “I was at Peter’s…” he begun.

“Don’t give me that, you’ve been to the tunnels and I want to know why!”

“If you’ll just let me speak.”

Catherine listened as her father went on, “I was at Peter’s, he needed to see Father with some medical supplies, and so I went with him.”

“Just like that?” Catherine didn’t believe a word of it. “And you phoned your office to rearrange your appointments on some whim to go down to the tunnels with Peter? Come off it daddy, you went to see Vincent didn’t you? Well what did you have to say? Or didn’t he let you speak, seems he’s good at doing that these days!”

“Catherine!” Charles shouted as his daughter turned on her heel and sped from the hall. He went after her, shrugging out of his raincoat as he went. “He gave Peter a note for you.”

“Oh really!” Catherine cried “And that’s supposed to make me feel better? Why did he give it to Peter? You think I’m stupid? You didn’t expect I would know you’d been to the tunnels? Let me get this straight. You and Peter and Vincent concocted some story that Vincent simply wrote me a note for Peter to deliver sometime today…land et me assume that Vincent actually wanted to see me without being forced into it by you! That’s it isn’t it? Well I don’t want to read his note. So you can tell Peter…”

At that moment the doorbell rang, “Oh talk of the devil.” Catherine sneered as she ran down the hall to yank open the door. A startled Peter stood there as Catherine rifled his pockets, “I hear you have something for me…come on then deliver!”

Peter’s eyes met Charles’s over Catherine’s shoulder and he dished the note from Vincent from the inside breast pocket of his jacket, “I have a note from Vincent…” Peter began as Catherine snatched it from his hand and ripped it into tiny shreds. She let the bits of paper fall then clapped her hands together, “There, you can go back and tell Vincent, thanks, but no thanks!” With that she spun on her heel and ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

“That went well…how…” Peter began stopping only because Catherine was coming down the stairs again.

“Peter?”

“Yes Catherine?”

“Can you perform an abortion?”

The silence was such that one could hear a pin drop as the mouths of both Charles and Peter dropped open in stunned surprise.

“Peter, I asked you a question. Can you perform an abortion?”

“On…on…you?” Peter asked.

“No on Mother Teresa! Of course on me!”

“But Catherine…” Peter shook his head, “No…No I can’t give you an abortion…I refuse to.”

“Fine, I’ll go elsewhere.”

Charles had up until that moment been too stunned to speak, but now he flared, “Catherine no! You wouldn’t. That’s my grandchild you have there.”

“I’m carrying a monster daddy. You want that for me? You want to pass this off as your grandchild? Do you seriously want to introduce a lion faced freak as your grandchild? I think not!”

“It won’t be like that!” Charles grabbed at Catherine’s shoulders before she had a chance to run again, stopping her on the spot. “It misses a generation, you know that?”

“Oh and so my child has to accept that its child is going to be the furry one? No thank you, daddy. I’ve thought this through and my mind is made up. Vincent doesn’t want me, he believed this child to be Joe’s. Joe was happy to accept Vincent’s child, but Vincent who sent me off in the first place was unprepared to do likewise. So I made up my mind, it’s best for all concerned if I get rid of this baby…because as things stand I don’t as hell want it!”

“No, you’re angry…you love Vincent…you would never harm his child…” Charles began.

“You’re wrong daddy. I did love Vincent, past tense, now I hate him. I hate what he did to me, what he set me up for, I hate having Joe come round expecting that I will love him one day. It’ll never happen daddy! I never want to love another man as long as I live! All they do is break your damn heart! So I want an abortion…and I’m darn sure I’m going to get one!”

“You’re on the borderline Cathy, it might already be too late. You’ll have no time to think it through if you mean that.” Peter looked at her shrewdly.

“I have thought it through. I’ve thought of nothing more for weeks. I’ll go make an appointment.” She turned with intent to the study where the telephone book was located but Peter caught her arm.

“If you’re serious, I’ll do it.”

Charles gasped, “Peter, No!”

With sorrow Peter looked at his friend and turned back to Catherine, “If the child should look like Vincent, it has to be me. Otherwise questions will be rife, and while you obviously don’t care what that would do to Vincent, you should at least think of yourself.”

Catherine bit her lower lip, “You’re right. So when…”

Peter looked at her, checked her size, knew her dates, knew the risks… ”The child could well survive this…” He warned her. Catherine shrugged “You’ll think of something. I just want rid of it.”

Neither Peter nor Charles could believe they heard her say that, they were shocked but said nothing. This wasn’t like the Catherine they knew, she was deeply bitter. An abortion was the last things she needed. But if Peter didn’t perform it, she would make an appointment and likely have a termination within twenty-four hours.

“Its Monday, my diary is booked through tomorrow…the earliest I could schedule it would be Wednesday evening or Thursday morning, take your pick.”

Tempted to say Wednesday, Catherine was thus surprised to her herself say, “Thursday morning.”

Both Peter and Charles were only slightly relieved that she had taken the longer option. Still it gave them only sixty hours grace. Sixty hours to make her change her mind, or have her regret this decision for the rest of her life.

With her mind settled on something Catherine began to feel better. Her future suddenly dawned brighter, sunnier and she made plans. First she would tell Joe that she did not love him and thought it best they parted company. Besides once he knew of her intention with the baby the chances were he’d think her too callous to be with any way. That was fine by her, an easy way out of an unfortunate situation. Deep down inside she still blamed Joe for everything.

Next she had to make certain that things with Vincent were terminated. She in no way regretted ripping up his note, reading it would have only made matters worse. Likely he would have said things to pull on her heartstrings and that would have been no good. She’d had enough of emotional blackmail from Joe and her father. However, she was intelligent enough to realise that until she made it plain, her relationship with Vincent was still ticking over. She had to finalise it, and as painlessly for everyone as possible.

After several attempts she finally decided what to tell him and sat down to write him a note.

“Vincent…” she began not wishing to precede it with dear, dearest or my love, endearments she had used in the past. His name straight forward and to the point would suffice.

“Firstly I didn’t read your note. I knew my father had been to see you. I could smell the tunnels on him the moment he walked through the door. So anything you had to say would have been concocted between the two of you, and not from your heart.
No doubt he told you that the baby was yours. Notice I say ‘was’. Had you of let me explain months ago I could have told you so myself. But you didn’t, you assumed the worst of me, just as you did when you noticed I was attracted to Joe.
I said the baby was yours, because by the time you read this note, the baby will be no more. I am having the pregnancy terminated and that is what I wish for our relationship.

From this moment on, any friendship, plans, or future that we had are ended. Whatever our soul mates think to that, I could not care in the slightest. No longer do I intend to sacrifice my life in order to appease theirs.

It’s over Vincent. We are over. Do not reply to this message as I will not read anything you send. Do not try to contact me. I shall be leaving here shortly, I may go to London for a time, I’m not sure yet.

That’s all I have to say.

Catherine.”

Even to her it sounded harsh, but it was how she felt. She felt bitter and hard and different. The path Vincent had set her on had changed her, and it had not been for the better. Catherine knew she had a long emotional roller coaster ride ahead of her, but she felt by the end of it all she would feel was relief.

She placed the note into an envelope and addressed it to a helper’s store. Then she worked out if she posted it Wednesday afternoon, it would arrive at the shop Thursday morning. By the time it reached Vincent’s hands the baby would be no more.

That suited Catherine fine…she hardened her heart and her resolve one more notch and began her next task, working out how best to tell Joe.

Joe had been a faithful friend but he irritated her beyond belief. Always fussing around her, always making plans for their future. She supposed any other girl would be flattered, and had she not felt so bitter to everything that had happened, she supposed she might have fallen in love with Joe and been happy.

Now though the future looked brighter with a clean slate ahead of her.

Joe always called on his way home from work, as regular as clockwork then if he could he would go home and return later and stay most of the evening. Catherine knew her father would miss Joe’s visits, which was why she had opted to return to her apartment after the abortion, and from there make plans to go abroad for a while.

She didn’t have long to wait for Joe to call after work. He arrived as cheerful as ever armed with a bunch of pretty flowers, pushing them into her hands the moment she answered the door, and leaning forward to kiss her, though she had successfully avoided his kisses for so long that all he caught was air.

“Hi Cathy, and how’s my girl?” His soft brown eyes danced with love and affection, “And how’s junior today?” He slid a hand over the soft bump of her abdomen as he entered the hall.

Catherine said nothing. She refused to feel anything at all about her decision to end her baby’s life. She had to remain strong and focused and see the end result. Now was not time to become soft and emotional or pass any comment as to the child’s welfare. So she ignored his questions and followed him into the lounge where her father sat trying to read a newspaper.

“Hello Joe.” Her father looked up as his friend walked in, he looked sidelong at Catherine, wondering what she might have told the young man. By his appearance nothing yet, and Charles felt on tender hooks wondering what was to come.

“Evening Charles. I hear you weren’t in the office today. Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I had things to do at home today.” Charles hated to lie and a sidelong glance at Catherine begged her not to elaborate. She didn’t. However, she did ask Joe to go with her into the kitchen. Charles caught Joe’s curious look as he followed Catherine out of the lounge. Charles was aware Joe was anticipating something but didn’t dare wonder what.

As soon as they arrived in the kitchen Catherine closed the door. Joe thought that was strange and his nerves got the better of him. Anxiety shone from his eyes as he asked her, “What’s wrong, Cathy?”

“Joe, I’m not even going to try to make this easier than it has to be. Short and blunt that’s the best way.” Catherine heard herself and cringed, ‘what had she become that she cared not for another’s feelings?’

“Oh no…Cathy…please…not that…please…” Joe begged sensing what was to come.

“Joe, its no use prolonging the agony. I don’t love you, I will never love you, I’m sorry. But that’s the way it is.”

“No, no, Cathy…not this…is it space you want? I can do space…maybe I’ve come on too strong…I thought I might have…I’m always here aren’t I? Regular as clockwork…but I love you Cathy…and I want to be with you…”

“I know you do Joe, and that’s what makes this so hard. Don’t you see? I can never love you?”

“Maybe not in the same way as I love you, yes I accept that, but Cathy, we can make it work, I know it… and you know I’d take the baby as mine…”

“There is no baby, Joe.”

“No, no baby?” Joe looked shocked, then as his mind raced he remembered Charles had been out of work all day and he exclaimed, “Oh God Cathy! That’s why Charles wasn’t at work. You lost the baby…oh God…why didn’t you tell me, I’d have been round straight away…oh God, its awful, you poor thing…here you should sit down…” He pulled a chair from under the table for her, but she sidestepped it and leaning against the counter faced him to say, “No Joe, you don’t understand. I’ve not lost the baby…I’m having a termination. An abortion.”

Joe’s face went white. He felt sick. The room spun and he leaned on the chair for support.

“No…” he cried with disbelief, his knees buckling…”Cathy, no, you can’t…”

“I can. It’s my body and I can do as I like.” Again she cringed. How often had she heard other women say the self same selfish thing and hate them for it, and now here she was doing likewise?

“It’s not your body that’s dying though is it? You are killing an innocent life! I beg you to reconsider. Does your father…” Joe turned and ran from the kitchen. Catherine tore after him.

Charles dropped the newspaper when Joe tore into the room, “Do you know about this! Do you know what she plans to do?”

Gravely Charles asked, “If you mean the abortion…”

“God, how could you!? You should be locking her in her room or something…how can you sit there reading a frigging newspaper and not do anything about this! She’s killing your grandchild for God’s sake!”

“I know, and I quite agree, it’s barbaric!”

Joe was stunned to silence for a moment, then continued, “So you aren’t in agreement?”

“No I am not!” Charles flared, “It breaks my heart. But it would seem her mind is made up.” Both men glared at Catherine who retorted angrily, “Yes it is…so now you know. Daddy, you can get back to reading your paper and mind your own business, and Joe…you can…” Catherine glared at Joe, her chest heaving with anger, “Get lost!”

“No.” Charles stood his tone deathly disquieting, “You young lady can get lost. I want you out of this house now. Collect your things and go!”

“But daddy…”

“Don’t but daddy me…I’ve been thinking…if you intend to go ahead with this wickedness I want nothing more to do with you. Do you think I could bear to look at you again, and not remember what you’ve done? What you’ve robbed me of, not to mention robbing that child of its life. And for what? To get back at Vincent? When you hit below the belt Catherine, you really hit below the belt. Well get out, that’s all I can say, get out of my house and never come back, you callous little bitch.”

For the first time in all of this tears pricked the back of Catherine’s eyes. Losing her father’s respect and love meant too much. For a split second she reconsidered her plans, but then a sudden thought of a lifetime of Vincent or Joe changed her mind back again. She turned on her heel, and slammed the door shut behind her.

“She won’t go.” Charles told Joe, unconvinced. The two men were silent as they heard drawers and cupboards slamming from the room above. Then footsteps sounding down the stairs. They waited in breathless anticipation for the door to reopen and Catherine appear with some angry comment or another, and Charles was ready with an apology. Instead the front door slammed, and before either of the two men realised what was happening Catherine was getting into her car.

“She’s leaving!” Joe shouted as he raced out of the room and down the hall. He yanked open the door in time to see the bright red tail-lights of Catherine’s car flying down the drive.

“CATHY!”

“CATHERINE!” Charles bellowed from behind Joe.

Catherine did not look back and her car was soon lost to their sight in rush hour traffic.

“I have to go after her.” Joe announced fumbling for his car keys, “Got to stop her doing something she will regret for the rest of her life.”

Charles held him back, “We’ve got till Thursday morning. Let her calm down, she’ll not see sense right now. I’ll go round to her apartment with an apology tomorrow. Things always look brighter in the light of day.”

“I hope you’re right Charles. As for me, I’m not taking any chances. I love that kid as if it’s my own, and she’ll kill it over my dead body. I’m going after her now!”

Seeing Joe was adamant Charles let him go. He hoped Joe could make his daughter see sense, but somehow he doubted it.

To be continued in Chapter Five