As promised, here is my new story starring the one and only Ange Godard. I hope you like this and please don't forget to leave a review (both positive comments and constructive criticism are welcome!)
Enjoy! :)
Shit.
The two blue lines stood out, mocking her with every second that she looked at them.
What the fuck was she going to do?
Ange ran her hands through her hair, grabbing handfuls as she contemplated what this meant.
She was pregnant. She was going to have a baby at fourteen.
Her chest rose and fell heavily with each panicked breath she took and she picked up the pregnancy test again in her shaking hands as though it would give her a different result. She should've known, she'd skipped three periods since that night at the concert and clearly the sickness that she'd brushed off had not been a stomach bug. Yet she'd convinced herself for so long that it would be ok, that she couldn't possibly be pregnant because that only happened on reality TV, and her life was far from that.
Looking around her small bedroom that was functional, but not nearly as lavish as some of her friends', Ange realised for the first time what the ramifications would be of her having a baby. To start with, she lived in a small two bedroom house in the middle of one of the rougher parts of Glasgow. Secondly, both of her parents worked full-time jobs to provide for her- there was no way they could take on another child, let alone a newborn baby.
Finally, Ange allowed herself to cry, something that she did very rarely (her parents had brought her up to be tougher than that). Still, she had to admit that it was quite cathartic, and that was where her mother, Eilidh, found her, sobbing uncontrollably on her bedroom floor with the test clutched in her trembling hand. She took one look at it, saw the result and dropped to her daughter's side, arms around her instantly while she uttered soothing words in Ange's ear.
'Shhh, it'll be ok. We'll sort it, Angel, we'll sort it.'
'You can't! You can't fix this,' she shouted in response, too upset to consider her tone.
Eilidh sighed, 'We will, I promise you. Whatever you want to do, we'll figure out a way, ok?'
Ange nodded, moving to bury her face in her mother's shoulder and taking comfort in her tight hold. Once she'd stopped crying, Ange felt a wave of guilt wash over her.
'I'm so sorry, Mum. I was so stupid, I'm so sorry. I don't even know his last name, he lives in Cheltenham, you know, where Isla and I went to that concert? It was one stupid night and I'm so, so sorry.'
'I'm not going to lie, Angel, it was stupid and I wish more than anything that we weren't in this position, but your father and I will try and help as much as we can, and support any decision you make,' Eilidh promised, 'but you don't have to think about that now. Why don't we go downstairs and eat some ice cream to take your mind off things?'
Ange nodded and grabbed her mother's hand, allowing herself to be led downstairs like a small child. With a bowl of chocolate chip ice cream in front of her, like her mum always said, Ange did feel a lot better. They spent the rest of the afternoon sat together on the sofa, talking about Ange's childhood memories and what she was like as a baby.
'You were always very wriggly, never happy laying still, and getting you off to sleep was a nightmare. I remember, your dad used to take you outside because the hum of the traffic sometimes made you sleepy, and failing that we'd just load you into the car and drive around for ten minutes. That was a foolproof one, but we got through a lot of fuel!'
Ange laughed, which felt good considering her meltdown just half an hour ago.
'You're going to be ok, Angel. I know it's scary- hell, I was scared and I was trying to get pregnant with you- but we'll be here, whatever you need.'
'Thank you, Mum. I'm so sorry, I know I've apologised, but I am so unbelievably sorry,' Ange blurted out. She still didn't know what she was going to do, but she already regretted knowing how much strain this was going to put on her family. She felt tears fill her eyes again and hastily wiped them away, determined not to break down again.
'I know, sweetheart, I know you are. You're a good girl, and I know you didn't mean for this to happen. But let this be a lesson: your actions have repercussions. Don't forget that, Angel, ok?'
Ange nodded.
'Good. Right, well, your dad will be home soon and then I'm working the night shift tonight. They've transferred me to the ED for a few weeks until they can get someone to replace Johnathan and, let me tell you, the receptionist has a job ten times harder down there. I'll need a coffee to last me through the night.'
'Mum? Do I have to tell him, I mean, I know I do, but how? What am I going to say?' Ange asked, despairing slightly as the relationship she had with her father was more distant than the one she had with Eilidh. She loved and respected both parents, but her mother had been more present in her life, while her dad was often working unsociable hours. It was only now that she was old enough to cook for herself that her mother had started working nights again.
'We'll tell him together, ok?' Eilidh offered, trying to hide her apprehension at telling her husband. He was more of a traditional man who was very proud, and she didn't know how he would react. However, she could tell Ange was equally nervous and wanted to try to relieve her of some of that anxiety. 'Do you want to come and help me with dinner? You can chop the veg for me while I mash the potatoes.'
Ange nodded and moved into the small kitchen with her mother, happy to have something to occupy her mind with. She couldn't imagine telling her father alone, and was immensely relieved by her mum's promise.
