It was far too late when Laura stepped out of the gynaecologists surgery, her mind a whirl of confusion. She stared at the printed report once more, the words stark on the paper: Pregnancy, 78 weeks. How could this have happened? Why hadnt I noticed a thing? she wondered, sliding into her Austin and driving home. Did I forget a pill? What nowshould I bring a child into this world? Im already fortythree
The traffic lights turned green at the roundabout, but Laura barely registered the movement of the cars until a driver honked loudly behind her. She pressed the accelerator, her thoughts drifting as the city of Manchester faded behind the windscreen.
Back in her flat, she busied herself with the chores, trying to push the uneasy thoughts aside.
A short while after lunch, her daughter Poppy dropped by, eager to share some news.
Mum, Ive got a surprise for you! Poppy announced, settling at the kitchen table.
Come on then, dont keep me waiting, Laura replied, eyes alight with curiosity.
Poppy, Sam proposed to me! her daughter beamed, her smile widening. And I said yes!
Congratulations, my dear! Laura exclaimed, tears welling as she embraced her daughter.
Sam was exactly the sort of young man Laura had always hoped forintelligent, driven, steady, with just enough ambition. At twentyfive he earned a respectable wage, lived independently, and had been with Poppy for almost three years. Over that time Laura had watched his devotion grow, never doubting his intentions.
What about the wedding, then? Laura asked, pouring steaming tea into their cups.
We havent set a date yet, Poppy shrugged. Were thinking next summer, but nothings firm.
Will you tell your father? Laura pressed, her gaze steady.
Im not sure, Poppy admitted, a frown forming. Honestly, I dont even want to.
You cant do that, Laura chided gently. Hes your father, he loves you. I know youre hurt by the way things ended with him, but people part ways; thats no reason to cut him out completely. Ive forgiven him, and you should too. Dont bear a grudge, and do invite him to the wedding.
Mother, how can you say that? Poppy snapped, her voice rising. He left you for another woman, and you forgave him! He spent a whole year having an affair with his secretary behind your back! Can you truly forgive that?
We were married for twentytwo years, Laura, Laura replied, a soft smile touching her lips. We raised yousuch a clever, beautiful girl. Those were happy years, and Im grateful to your father for them. But he fell in love with someone else.
The heart cant be commanded, Poppy, Laura continued, what am I supposed to have done? Throw a tantrum, smash the dishes? Hide my hurt? Hate him forever? All because his feelings cooled? Its foolish, Poppydont you see?
I dont understand, Mum, Poppy said, shaking her head. If Sam treated me like that, I dont even know what Id do.
Laura let the argument go; she knew a fiery Poppy would never see her point. Youth, after all, often views such matters differently.
After seeing Poppy off, Laura returned to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and pulled a joint of beef from the freezer for dinner. The news of her unexpected pregnancy haunted her. On one hand, giving birth at her age, and without a husband, seemed terrifying. On the other, the longing to be a mother again, to nurture a child, tugged at her heart.
She retrieved an old photo album from the high shelves, leafing through pictures of Poppy as a babe in a onesie, smiling broadly in her grandmothers lap. In another, a slightly older Poppy in a frilly dress stood at the gate of the town park, the memory of a broken knee from a swing accident resurfacinga thin, barely visible scar still traced the skin.
A school photograph showed firstgrader Poppy clutching a bouquet, standing beside her parents, with Martin looking solemn. Laura remembered the day vividly: the dress shed sewn herself, a silver frock edged with rabbit fur, after three sleepless nights at the sewing machine. The result had been a triumph.
A later picture captured the familyLaura, Martin, and a grownup Poppyon a sunny beach in Cornwall, bronzed and laughing. Those images reminded Laura how solid and harmonious she once believed her family to be. Years had passed, Poppy blossomed, and Martins career prospered; they bought a house, a car, and traveled often. Laura opened a boutique specialising in wedding gowns, fulfilling a lifelong dream. Yet, despite those successes, she never again conceived. The few pregnancies she experienced ended in early miscarriage, and once a later scan revealed severe fetal abnormalities, forcing a heartbreaking termination. One night she sobbed in the hospital ward until dawn, finally deciding never to try again.
Looking back, Laura saw a bitter irony. Once she had youth, a devoted husband, stability, and a burning desire for another childyet fate denied her. Now, stripped of that former security, an unplanned pregnancy seemed a cruel jest.
When Martin announced he was leaving, it was no surprise. She had long suspected his affair, but he dismissed her concerns as wild imagination. Laura launched a desperate campaign to win him back, even suggesting a family therapist, which he flatly refused, calling it nonsense. She tried everythingfrom heartfelt talks to a flirtatious dance in the living roomyet a month later he packed his bags, filed for divorce, and their final, painful conversation left her reeling.
Martins new lover, Olivia, was a young secretary with glossy lips, long lashes, and a plunging neckline that made Lauras skin crawl. She had asked Martin to replace her, but he waved it off: Laura, it matters not how she looks. Shes efficient, smart, and I cant afford another hire right now. Laura sensed Olivia was not the invaluable employee Martin pretended she was; later she discovered the truth of her suspicions.
The betrayal cut deepher husband trading a twentytwoyear marriage for a silicone doll. Yet life had to go on. Martin left their city flat, moving to a country house with Olivia, while Laura stayed in the modest twobedroom apartment hed left her, nearer to her work and to Poppys flat. The thought of a stranger living where theyd built memories gnawed at her, but she had consented to the arrangement for practical reasons.
The following weekend Laura visited her old friend Helen, whom shed known since their children were in the same nursery. Helen greeted her with a bottle of fine whisky.
Lets have a quick tipple, Laurafifty grammes each, Helen winked, pulling out two crystal glasses.
Thanks, Helen, but Ill pass. Im not supposed to, Laura replied.
What, medicine? Helen asked, curious.
No, Im pregnant, Helen.
Helens eyebrows shot up. But you and Martin are split, arent you? Got yourself a lover already? she chuckled.
Never! The child is Martins, from a night we shared a couple of months agocandles, wine, lacey nightgown He couldnt resist. And now Laura gestured to her belly.
Helen laughed. Mother, youre something else! What will you do?
I havent the faintest idea, Laura sighed. I just learned it yesterday.
Honestly, Laura, youre past your prime for childbirth. Raising a child alone at your age, with a frail body, is a heavy burden. Maybe think of alimony? Poppy will marry soon, perhaps grandchildren will come; Id think twice.
Laura nodded, feeling some of her own doubts echoed in Helens words.
She soon drove to Poppys flat.
Hey, Mum! Poppy greeted, brightening. Coffee?
No, love, not today. I need to talk. Is Sam home? Laura asked.
Hes at his parents, helping with renovations, Poppy replied.
Laura, hands trembling, confessed her pregnancy.
Mum, do you actually want this child? Poppy asked.
Yes, I do, Laura whispered, but Im frightened.
The doctor? Poppy probed.
He says everything looks fine, the babys developing well. In my youth I lost two babies, never knowing why. The doctors back then werent as skilled. Im terrified of going through that again. At my age, they say birth is risky, the child could have problems. Ive read horror stories online
Listen, Mom, Poppy urged, you must get proper checkups, not rely on the internet. Modern medicine has advanced; many women now give birth after forty. If youre healthy, why not?
Laura nodded, feeling a small spark of hope. She decided to keep the baby, though the thought of telling Martin lingered.
Weeks later, Martin turned up unexpectedly at Lauras boutique, claiming he needed some documents for the house.
Laura, Im here for the papersdid you change the locks? he asked, eyes flickering to her rounded belly.
I did, she replied coolly. What did you expect, that Id keep the house open for you?
Looks like you havent wasted any time. Married, are you? he smirked.
No, Martin, Im not. My life is my own, Laura snapped. I have work to do, no time for your nonsense.
Martin muttered something as he left, his mind racing with thoughts of the childs gestation. He imagined the babys due date, wondered if Laura would find someone else, and swore to himself that the child was his.
Later, Olivia strolled into his office, demanding a dinner out. He brushed her off, telling her to go alone if she wished. She left, hissing, while Martin tried to focus on spreadsheets, his thoughts drifting far from numbers.
When the baby arrived, Poppy and Sam were there, along with Helen and a few of Lauras sewing apprentices. Sam cradled the tiny bundle in a soft blue blanket.
God, hes so small! he whispered, trembling.
Hes beautiful, isnt he? Looks just like me, doesnt he, Mum? Poppy cooed, eyes shining.
Yes, just like me, Laura laughed, tears spilling over.
Back home, Laura found the nursery already preparedcolourful garlands, balloons, and a handpainted sign over the cot that read Happy Birthday, Daniel! (the name Laura had chosen for her son). The room glowed with love.
Daniel was healthy, and Laura felt a surge of vitality she hadnt known for years. Days were filled with feeding, changing, and watching Poppy dot the babys cheek with kisses.
Looks like youve already practised being a mother, Poppy! Laura teased one afternoon. When your turn comes, youll be a pro.
Its brilliant! Poppy replied, grinning at Sam.
Months later, there was a knock at the door. Martin stood there, a bouquet in hand.
Laura, he said, offering the flowers, I know you wont take them, but
Laura crossed her arms, voice cold. Martin, does it matter now? Youre the father of Daniel, but you left. Ive learned that a man who betrays once will do it again.
Im sorry, Laura. I was a fool. I want to raise our son together. Will you let me back? he pleaded, eyes pleading.
Laura thought of the year she would have given for those words. Now they meant nothing. No, Martin. Its too late. Dont come back. She shut the door, locking it firmly.
He shouted, I have a right to see my son! but the door stayed shut. He kept turning up, lurking when Laura pushed the pram in the park, begging forgiveness, begging to be part of the family again. She never opened. At Poppy and Sams wedding, Martin appeared briefly, handed a generous envelope of cash, and left.
Later, through mutual acquaintances, Laura learned Martin had married Olivia, only for the marriage to crumble within months when she left him for another man.
Thus, the tale of Laura, her unexpected lateinlife pregnancy, and the tangled threads of love, loss, and resilience lingered in memory, a reminder that even the most familiar roads can twist into unforeseen journeys.
