with a wooden spoon in hand. ‘I’m serious, Ben. All these extra hours you’re working seem to be adding up. Late night returns on Friday and you keep having early departures on Sunday. It’s not like we see each other much anyway without more chunks of time being eaten into.’
As the spoon was in the way of getting to Fliss, Ben took a seat at their tiny bistro table. ‘I know it’s been rubbish of late. We’ve just been so busy. They’ve taken on too many projects.’
‘But what about us? Your family. Surely we’re more important. I’m beginning to think we made the wrong decision about us being here and you working up in London.’ They’d reached a point where Fliss reckoned she spent more time with the postman than her husband. Their food dished up, she placed it on the table and waited for Ben to respond.
‘You’ll always be more important and I’m sorry it’s been like this. It’s a brief hiatus of extra work, but it’ll be back to normal soon.’ Ben tucked into his dinner, clearly not as concerned about how things were currently.
‘It’s not great for when we manage to extend the family. Imagine how stressful it’s going to be when I have a newborn to deal with as well. I can’t have you choosing work over family then.’
‘We’ll deal with that when it happens.’
Fliss didn’t like it when Ben was so pragmatic. Deal with it when it happens was his motto for life. ‘Well, as it doesn’t seem to be happening, I was thinking it was time we went and got checked out.’
‘Go to the doctors?’ Ben glanced up from the greedy mouthfuls that Fliss’s full stomach wasn’t keeping pace with. ‘But they’ll only tell us what we already know. That the reason you’re not pregnant yet is we’re not trying enough. And there’s no way that can improve when we live most of the week in different regions of the country.’
‘But there might be something wrong. Just because we had Hollie without any problems doesn’t mean there isn’t a problem now.’ It was hard knowing Ben was so indifferent about the subject.
‘Don’t you think you’re overthinking it?’
‘How is it overthinking? I want a baby, you want a baby, and two years on we don’t have one. I don’t think looking into getting everything checked out is such an extreme line of thought.’ Fliss pressed her tongue against her front teeth, not wanting to get angry at her husband despite his thoughtless comment.
‘You misunderstand me. What I mean is the stress of it all. They often say the reason women don’t get pregnant is because they become very obsessed with it. I think with you that might be the case.’
Fliss’s jaw dropped open as Ben tucked into another piece of lamb. How could he insult her like that and not realise what he was saying? There was frank. Then there was too frank. This wasn’t a discussion with colleagues over blueprints; they were talking about their future.
‘I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Always putting my foot in it,’ Ben said. ‘Don’t take it the wrong way. I just mean I know it’s been playing on your mind. Of course getting pregnant will take longer for us when we’re only together for short periods of time. We’re not going hell for leather like when we were first married. It’ll be down to that. When it happens, it’ll be the right time. Pouring over internet forums and seeing other people get success only makes you more aware that we haven’t yet.’ Ben leaned across the table and caught hold of her hand. ‘I just think it’s not healthy to think about it more than necessary. We have a daughter to look after and care for. We should be pouring our love into her and the rest will come naturally.’
Fliss jerked away from Ben’s grip, annoyed that he still wasn’t getting it. ‘And what if it doesn’t? It’s not going to hurt to go to the doctor’s and start things off with some blood tests. At least we’ll know if I’m ovulating. I’m not as young as I was when I fell pregnant with Hollie and at thirty-five they already considered me a geriatric mother back then. Now I’m forty-one. It’s not like I have time on my side. Things might have changed and, if it’s a simple fix, well, I think we should explore the possibilities.’ She played with her food and forked a lump of mash across the plate. She’d felt sure Ben would be happy to start doing something about it; after all, it had been going on for long enough. She thought back to Ange’s suggestion about signing up for the programme. ‘My friend mentioned something that might help. There’s a TV documentary looking into this kind of problem and they’re providing funding for any of the couples taking part. It wouldn’t cost us anything if that’s what you’re worried about.’ The other thing their dual lifestyle was affecting was their finances. They didn’t have much disposable income and certainly no savings to cover the cost of any potential IVF treatment.
‘TV? I’m not going to do something like that to go and make a spectacle of ourselves. And I’m not worried. We just need to give it another six months. If nothing has happened in that time, we’ll go to the doctor then.’ Ben swigged on his glass of red wine and the steely expression in his eyes told her not to pursue the subject any further.
Fliss had guessed he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with the show given his reluctance with everything relating to their fertility. Ange’s conclusion on the matter was that Ben must think there was something wrong on his side and didn’t want to admit his virility was affected. Looking at him now, though, he didn’t look like a man worried about his sperm count. His gaze softened and he offered his best come-to-bed smile. It had to be said, his looks had only improved over the years. His dark-brown hair might be spattered with grey, but that only enhanced his olive complexion and deep-brown eyes. The man she’d fallen in love with was still there; she just didn’t see him as often these days.
‘We can work on it a bit harder once this project is over. I’ll take some time off. Then we’ll see where we’re at. If nothing has happened, we’ll look into what can be done. Just promise me one thing – that you’ll relax and stop reading things on the internet that are making you worry.’
Fliss didn’t like to admit it, but maybe he was right. She was becoming obsessed. A bit of time out might be the answer.
‘Come on. There is only one way I know to make babies.’ And with that, Fliss allowed Ben to lead her upstairs.
Fliss should have been enjoying the freedom, but she was already missing Hollie even though she’d only been away overnight. She was used to being woken up by Hollie’s boundless bundle of energy making her way into her bed like an alarm.
Even without her daughter at home, Fliss woke automatically, her husband a foreign snoring lump in her bed. She really was getting too used to him not being there and the extra space it provided. She left him there and went downstairs, jealous of his ability to sleep in whenever the opportunity arose.
After making tea and toast, Fliss switched on her laptop and logged on to her usual forums despite last night’s dinner-time conversation. It was only so she could private message Ange, so it was totally justifiable; although was it, when she knew she was logging in here because Ben knew her Facebook password? And was it even worse that she was more able to speak to her friend who was hundreds of miles away than her husband who was sleeping upstairs? All she had to do was wake him and say, ‘Don’t you want to reconsider?’
Fliss was at the point she wanted action from Ben. Seeing a doctor and taking part in the programme would be exactly what she needed to see happening. Instead, once again, he’d put their relationship on hold. She was at the annoying phase of the phone call where she was being made to listen to Mozart on repeat and all she really wanted to do was speak to someone who would sort the problem out.
Felbaby: B said no to the show.
Fliss stopped herself adding: And I hate him for it. It was hard to accept the thing that should be bringing them together seemed to be pulling them apart.