Part 4
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The next couple of weeks were like living in a nightmare. Donna had no appetite, she was constantly crying, Campbell wouldn't or couldn't answer her calls, and everyone was looking at her as though she had assassinated the Queen. She truly thought things could not get any worse; and then they did.
The general feeling of being under the weather didn't dissipate, and Donna knew she would feel sick when she returned to school in order to join the sixth form; but alarm bells started to ring in her head when she started to throw up.
"You must be pregnant," her friend Nerys unhelpfully suggested with glee.
"I can't be," Donna instantly denied. "I told you, we didn't do anything."
"Are you sure?" Nerys questioned her.
"Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't say it otherwise, would I?"
"I don't know!" Nerys eyed Donna suspiciously. "I read in the Sunday People that you can get pregnant without... doing it. Depends how close you got."
"Alright!" Donna stormed, throwing her hands up in disgust. "I'll buy a pregnancy test kit and prove you are wrong. We can stop off at Boots on the way home and get one."
The subject was then dropped for the time being; but Nerys used it several times to tease her with before the day was out.
It was funny how brave Nerys was when it came to picking up and paying for the pregnancy test; she practically ran out of the shop, leaving Donna standing there on her own. The shop assistant had smiled encouragingly at her as she handed over the money. "Good luck, love," she said kindly.
Donna answered with a heartfelt, "Thank you."
Getting back home was a huge embarrassment after that. Donna checked in all directions before she let herself in through the front door. Fortunately there was no sign of her parents, so she crept upstairs to the toilet, drew the pregnancy kit out of her bag, and read the instructions. Three minutes. She could wait for three minutes to prove Nerys wrong, no problem.
Three minutes later she let out a horrified shriek! The stick told her with its accusing blue line that she was indeed pregnant. Clasping her hands over her mouth as the shocking truth tried to clarify in her mind; Donna sank to the floor and wept.
That was where Sylvia found her daughter when she got home from work. Donna was a complete emotional mess on the bathroom carpet; and Sylvia immediately guessed what the reason was. It had long been her biggest fear, after all. Taking in a deep breath, Sylvia leapt into action, steering Donna into her bedroom, fetched a calming cup of tea and made numerous promises that it would all be sorted out.
Having got Donna quiet enough to fall asleep, Sylvia waited for her husband to arrive home and explain the situation to him. Sylvia knew that he would not like the news that some horny teenage lad had made his precious daughter pregnant. In fact she expected lots more histrionics. As it was, her husband Geoff took it all rather well; almost too well. He had rushed up to peer in at Donna, as she had expected, and then he had quietly seething in the lounge chair he normally sat in. Numerous malicious thoughts churned over and over in his mind as he sat there. Sylvia had been so concerned she had contacted her mother, not knowing what to do.
In hindsight, it probably kick started the first bout of cancer that blighted him.
The coming weeks would see Eileen and Wilfred Mott act as a rock for their daughter and granddaughter; keeping all parties apart enough to defuse any potential conflicts. Of one thing they were in all agreement about, and that was Donna should resume her education at the earliest possible moment. The school had said she could continue for as long as the pregnancy didn't show; but the moment she did, she had to leave.
The fact that Donna insisted on giving birth rather than gain an abortion had caused quite a few arguments; the possibility that she should then keep the baby caused even more. But as usual Donna knew her own mind on it very clearly. Her baby had been formed through love so it deserved to be loved, was her unrelenting argument.
The other matter of the father continued to cause a great deal of anguish. Most of the anguish came from the fact that Campbell didn't know of Donna's predicament; the rest of it from the fact that no one could get hold of him. Phone calls were still going unanswered, letters returned unread, and even Morag knocking on the door several times had gained absolutely nothing. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth.
There were rumours, of course, where someone claimed they had spotted his father; albeit very fleetingly. Other than that, everyone was mystified.
By the time Donna was seven months pregnant she was almost beside herself with worry. This just wasn't him; someone had to answer her queries eventually. So with great determination she packed a weekend bag, left a note for her parents, emptied her piggy bank, and travelled up by a National Express coach to try and find some much needed answers.
She'd felt fine when she had climbed onto the coach, was quite focused when she caught the bus in Glasgow in the chill wind, but by the time she was walking down Campbell's street much of her original fizz had gone, making her feel very unwell; and the drab weather buffeted her body. With great trepidation she knocked on the familiar blue door. After trying several times, footsteps could be heard stomping down the passageway.
"What do you want?" Campbell's dad had practically yelled at her when he flung open his front door. "Haven't you got the message yet? He wants nothing to do with you anymore."
But Donna stood her ground; she had to know, whatever the outcome, and squared her shoulders. "I won't believe you until I hear the words from him, from his own mouth. I need to speak to Campbell," she said as firmly as she could. She had had plenty of opportunities to defend herself and her opinions quite a lot over the previous months, and now felt completely capable of defending herself against this bully.
His dad glared down at her, and then reluctantly said, "You'd better come in."
Stepping in, she was immediately aware how silent the house was. "Where's everyone?" she asked. Everything about the place felt unloved and unlived in.
"It's just you and me," he answered, and pushed by her to enter the cold living room without making any hospitable offering. "Both of them upped and left."
Her hand flew to her neck in self comfort. "What do you mean?"
"I mean my wife went and left me after that son of hers shamed us with the likes of you and caused a scandal. She couldn't take the guilt any longer." He stood scowling at her.
"And what about Campbell?" she asked in a small voice, terrified of hearing the answer.
"They locked him away," he said vengefully, glad to hear her gasp of shock. "Put him away for everyone's safety. It'll be years before they even consider letting him out."
"But… where… can I see him?" she begged.
His stance was firm. "No! He isn't allowed visitors where he is, so you'll have to think again."
"I need to… I can't…," she sobbed, and collapsed onto the chair behind her as pain ripped through her body. "Can I use your bathroom, please?"
"Top of the stairs," he directed her.
Wordlessly she pulled herself up and stumbled up the stairs, gripping the banister desperately whilst trying to hold back memories of being in the same place in the past. Once in the bathroom she let out a scream of shock as blood covered her questing hand. Swaying in a faint, she trembled as hysteria threatened to overtake her. What should she do? What was happening? Was she dying? Was the baby dying?
"What's the screaming for?" a gruff voice demanded from outside the door.
She drew in a breath to try and quell the storm within her. "I'm bleeding. The baby… please save my baby," she pleaded with him.
"Hang on," he replied, and she heard him storm down the stairs, leaving her in the accusing silence of the room.
She must have passed out because the next thing she knew a paramedic was handling her, easing her body onto a chair. "Don't worry, Donna; we'll soon have you at the hospital," he tried to sooth her.
"My baby," she feebly beseeched him.
"We know," he answered her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll do all that we can."
Another wave of pain hit her, and she eased back into thankful blackness.
She came too with bright lights above the bed she was laying on, with several gowned people peering with concern at her prone body. The woman standing nearest her head introduced herself as an obstetrician, and pointed out various members of her team. Donna tried to take it all in, something about the baby being in distress and they'd have to induce labour; but she wasn't able to grasp the full details in her condition.
"We will have to be quick," the obstetrician stated to the room in general, and Donna felt herself drifting away from the pain. "Soon be over," she was told as she blacked out.
Much later Donna roused herself properly. Several attempts had been made to bring her round, but slumber kept calling her. Obviously they had given her a sleeping pill after the birth. Coming to brought reality and she whimpered in terror at what might be greeting her. The memory of that birth would stay in her mind for ever more. How had she even endured all that pain? To think that some women wanted to go through all that again. It would take a month of Sundays before she ever considered doing that in the future.
She was in a room of her own, unusually empty of other patients to make up the numbers, but there was no crib in the room next to her bed. Donna tried to sit up in order to search with her eyes. All she saw was Campbell's dad standing by the side of her bed.
"Where's my baby?" she weakly asked. "Is my baby okay?"
For a few seconds he didn't answer; and then he shook his head. "The baby's dead, Donna. She never made it." He stood impassively, watching the horror spread over her face.
Donna wiped desperately at her eyes. It couldn't be true! After all that she had been through, with her mum shouting, her dad giving her the silent treatment, the accusations from everyone, the trip up here, Campbell being taken away… and now this! It was too much to bear. Frantically she grabbed the items in her bedside locker, knowing they must be her clothes. "I've got to get out of here. I can't deal with this. My baby. I've got to get away from here," she cried out, and just ran.
He saw her stumble down the corridor and out through the main doors, and made no effort whatsoever to stop her. He knew he would find her later on, once he had scooped up anything she had left behind; and he had planned exactly how he was going to dump her back onto the next coach home. Soon she would be out of his life forever.
Nobody noticed her hasty exit; he could not have plotted this better if he had tried, and he intended to make the most of this opportunity.
Within the next half an hour a nurse returned, pushing the premature baby in her small crib. "Donna? Where's Donna?" the nurse asked him as she swept her gaze around the ward.
"Sorry nurse, but she skipped off as soon as I left her alone. What do you expect from a spineless Sassenach?" he explained.
"She left? Without her baby girl?" the nurse queried, dumbfounded by the action. "But the poor wee thing needs her."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Young people these days," he commented. "But don't worry, nurse. Baby Amelia will come home with me if need be. My granddaughter will be perfectly safe there."
