that was the thin end of the wedge as far as Ryan was concerned. And no way was he anywhere near ready enough to have her move in with him, even though it was more than obvious that that was what she was hinting at. His life was in no state to welcome a serious relationship. Not the way things stood at the minute.
Everything was so much harder than he’d ever thought it would be. Something that should be so simple was proving to be the most difficult thing Ryan had ever had to face, but the past year had changed him in so many ways. And maybe the one thing he’d tried not to think about over the past few days was the only option left open to him now. He certainly had to open his mind to the idea that it could be a possibility.
His head was spinning with everything that was going on in there, and now, more than ever, Ryan wished he had someone he could talk to. He wished he had Amber.
‘I can’t believe I did that, Debbie, I really can’t,’ Amber sighed, sinking into the soft cushions of the sofa in the bar they’d ducked into for a glass or two of wine after a particularly busy morning’s shopping.
‘You said Jim’s fine about it.’ Debbie sat down on the chair opposite Amber. ‘In fact, you said he’s more than fine.’
‘He is,’ Amber went on, crossing her legs and wishing she could kick off her shoes. She was still getting used to walking in these new heels, never mind shopping in them, and her feet were killing her. Why she’d let Debbie talk her into wearing them today she had no idea. She wasn’t usually swayed so easily. ‘But still… I must have sounded like some crazed, hormonal, pre-menopausal madwoman. The poor bugger was only trying to get ready for work and I walk in and start demanding a baby! I still can’t believe those words came out of my own mouth.’
Debbie briefly turned her attention to the young man who’d just turned up at their table with an ice bucket and a bottle of something white and sparkling. She smiled at him as he placed it down in front of them, and Amber couldn’t help but be slightly amused at his flustered expression. Debbie could be quite intimidating when she wanted to be, with her striking white-blonde hair and glamorous exterior. ‘I envy you sometimes, Amber,’ Debbie sighed, winking at the young man as he beat a hasty retreat back behind the bar.
‘Envy me? Why? Look at the life you’ve got.’
‘Hmmm,’ Debbie said, leaning forward to pour two glasses of champagne. ‘It’s not quite as fabulous as I make it out to be, chick. Gary hasn’t changed all that much since we got married, although, to be honest, after what happened with Ryan, he is trying to rein it in a little bit, and for that I should be eternally grateful, I suppose. But you and Jim… oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a man like that.’
‘Yeah, well, hands off. He’s mine.’ Amber threw Debbie a small smile as she took the glass she held out for her, indulging in a long and very welcome sip of the cold, bubbly liquid.
‘And you two will make such beautiful babies,’ Debbie sighed, leaning back in her seat as she sipped her own champagne.
Amber couldn’t help smiling again, even though that smile was accompanied by a brief and unwelcome jolt of reality. A reality that was starting to bite hard. ‘I’d like to think so… Christ, listen to me! This is mad, Debbie. I mean, marriage, babies, a career that takes me out of the North East way more than I’d like it to – all things I never thought I wanted. Well, okay, at the back of my mind I suppose I did always wonder what it would be like to have kids, but I never really wanted them. Not at the time. Does that make sense?’
‘Sort of.’ Debbie frowned, crossing and uncrossing her long, tanned legs, giving the men sitting across the bar from them more than they’d bargained for. She was wearing a short, lemon-yellow sundress and Amber could only pray that she was wearing underwear. You never could tell with Debbie.
Amber took another sip of champagne, and for a second she had to stop and think about where her life had taken her over the past few months. Yes, it had all happened so fast – sometimes it took her breath away to think of how quickly her life had been turned on its head, to the point where she was now sitting in one of the most upmarket bars on Newcastle’s Quayside, drinking champagne in the middle of the afternoon. Who’d have thought?
‘Earth calling Amber.’
Debbie’s voice pulled Amber back to reality and she turned to look at her friend.
‘You were miles away, chick. Everything okay?’
Amber looked down for a second, focusing on the beautifully understated but perfect wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand. A never-ending band of white gold that signified perfectly her love for Jim Allen. Never-ending. It always had been and it always would be. She couldn’t see that ever changing now. So maybe she owed it to him to be honest. Once she knew the facts.
‘I don’t know.’ She looked back up at Debbie’s slightly confused expression. ‘I don’t know if everything’s okay.’
‘Has something happened, hon? Are you and Jim okay?’
‘Oh God, yes. We’re fine, I don’t mean that… Me and Jim, we’re good, we’re more than good. It’s just… me becoming a mum it’s… it may not be quite as simple as I might have made it out to be.’
Debbie put her glass down, leaning further forward, her expression still confused. ‘How do you mean, chick?’
Amber drained her glass of champagne and placed it down on the table in front of her, pushing a hand through her hair. It was time to face up to this now. It wasn’t something she could block out and put to the back of her mind anymore, because that’s what she’d been doing. For a very long time. And she’d been able to do that purely because there’d been no need to confront it, no need to even think about it. Until now.
‘When I was young, very young – I think I was about seven or eight when it happened – my appendix ruptured. It was pretty serious, apparently, although I don’t remember all that much about it. But, according to my dad, it was serious. Anyway, the upshot of all this was, because of the ruptured appendix and the subsequent peritonitis…’ She stared down at her wedding ring again, twisting it round and round her finger. ‘My fallopian tubes are scarred to hell, Debbie. At the time, the doctors told my mum and dad that I may have trouble conceiving when I was older and they never hid the truth from me so… so I’ve always known there’s a chance that… that it may not be all that easy, but… I’ve got to cling onto hope, haven’t I? I never really gave it much thought before because I’d always resigned myself to the fact that I was never going to be a mum. I didn’t think I’d ever find the right man anyway, that one man who could… who…’ She felt tears start to prick the back of her eyes and she rummaged round in her bag for a handkerchief, desperate not to cry. She didn’t want to start crying. Jesus, this was so wrong! Amber Sullivan hadn’t wanted kids. Amber Sullivan hadn’t felt these ridiculous feelings; this sudden, aching need. But Amber Allen did. ‘But then he came back. Jim. He came back.’ She looked at Debbie, whose face was now a mask of genuine concern, which only made Amber’s tears fall faster. ‘And everything changed, Debbie. Everything.’
Debbie jumped up and sat down next to Amber, taking her hand and squeezing it tight. ‘You don’t know anything for definite though, do you?’
Amber looked at her. ‘I know the worst case scenario.’
‘But that might not be the case for you, chick. Have you seen a doctor?’
Amber shook her head. ‘I’m scared, Debbie. I’m scared of what they’re gonna tell me, of having to face up to something I thought I’d be able to handle, but now I’m not so sure that I can.’
Debbie got up and went over to retrieve her handbag, sitting back down next to Amber as she started scrolling down the contact list on her phone. ‘I’ll get you an appointment sorted with an amazing specialist I know. He runs a private fertility clinic in Jesmond.’
Amber frowned. ‘A fertility clinic? How do you…?’
Debbie looked at