Where There's Smoke

Kate quickly ran through her own financial situation. “I might be able to lend you something. Not ten thousand, but it might help tide you over. So you can keep the house.” She knew how much Lucy and Jack loved their home. If they had to sell, they would never have anywhere like it again.

Lucy smiled, bleakly. “Thanks, Kate. I appreciate it, but... well, let’s see what the bank says, shall we?”

She took a deep breath. “You can imagine that I wasn’t in the best of moods to start with, though. And when this little monster...” she gave Angus a squeeze “... turned into Hannibal Lecter, it just capped things off nicely.”

She gave a grin. “Anyway, so much for my traumas. How’s your neighbour?”

“About the same.” Kate had visited Miss Willoughby again, but the old lady didn’t seem to have improved.

“Have the police caught the sods who did it?”

“Not yet. She hasn’t been able to give very good descriptions, so unless they catch them doing something else it isn’t very hopeful.”

Lucy shook her head. “God, doesn’t it make you seethe, though? They want birching! An old woman in her eighties, and on her own too! What a way to end up.”

Kate was silent. She thought about the old lady’s flat, bare of family mementoes. The only photographs on display were formal, framed ones of a school, fading pictures of Miss Willoughby with other people’s children, all long since grown-up. She wondered if any of them ever remembered their old teacher. Loneliness was the smell of cooked cabbage and old age.

“I’ve found a clinic,” she said.

Lucy looked startled at the change in tack. “What?”

“I’ve found a clinic. To carry out the donor insemination.”

“I thought you’d given up on that idea?”

“No. I just didn’t like the thought of an anonymous donor. But I phoned the HFEA, and they said that although clinics have to keep their own donors’ identity confidential, there are some that’ll let you use a “known donor” instead. Someone that you know, that you’ve picked yourself.”

“Like who?” Lucy sounded appalled.

“I don’t know yet.” It was enough for the moment that she knew it was possible.

“For God’s sake, Kate, I thought the whole idea was that you didn’t want the father involved!”

“I still don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care who he is.”

“Yes, but the point is he’ll know who you are as well, won’t he? I thought an anonymous donor was bad enough, but at least then you don’t have to worry about what he’s going to do afterwards! Supposing he changes his mind and decides it’s his baby as much as yours? You’re leaving yourself open for all sorts of problems!”

“Not if I’m careful who I choose. And he’ll only have the same standing as an ordinary donor. He won’t be recognised as the legal father, so he won’t have any rights to custody or anything. I’ll just have to make sure that’s clear from the start.”

Lucy bit off whatever she had been going to say. “So have you actually found a clinic that’ll do it?”

“There’s one in Birmingham—”

“Birmingham!”

“I know it’s a long way, but they seem pretty good.” That wasn’t the only reason. Kate had phoned a good portion of the clinics listed in the HFEA’s brochure — including the one she had already been to — before eventually finding one that was prepared both to treat a single woman and use a known donor.

Lucy was tight-lipped with silent criticism. “So what do you do now?”

“I’ve made an appointment to see the counsellor. I suppose I’ll take it from there.”

Angus had begun to fidget. Lucy slid him off her knee. Sniffling, he tottered back to his fire engine. “Don’t you think this is all getting a bit out of hand?”

“Why? You said yourself there was no harm in talking to somebody about it.”

“Yes, but you’ve already done that.” Lucy watched Angus sit down heavily on the grass and pick up the red plastic toy. “This isn’t just talking any more, is it? You’re acting like you’re planning to actually go ahead with it.”

“You mean you thought I wasn’t serious.” Kate heard the acerbic note creep into her voice.

“No, but...” Lucy stopped.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. What?”

Lucy sighed, as though she found the entire subject tiresome. “Well, I just know what you’re like. If you get your mind set on anything, you’re like a dog with a bone. You won’t let go, and I can see this turning into something like that. Another ‘project’ you’ve got to see through. And I think you’re making a big mistake.”

Kate could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. “And that’s all it is, is it? Another project?”

Lucy wore the expression of someone who wanted to talk about something else, but wasn’t prepared to let go of their point. “No, I’m not saying that’s all it is, but—”

“Yes, you are!” Kate could feel the last strings of her temper slipping through her fingers. “You act like this is just some sort of — of whim you can talk me out of!”