painkillers,’ said Mark.
‘I’ll just have a cup of tea first,’ said Fiona, and sat down at the kitchen table. I put the kettle on. ‘How are the boys?’ she asked.
‘Great,’ I said. ‘They’ve been as good as gold. Although I’m not sure Mrs Foley is my biggest fan.’
‘What did you do?’ Fiona asked, sighing, which I have to say ticked me off, considering I’d been running around like a blue-arsed fly for the past twenty-four hours looking after her kids.
‘I didn’t do anything. I just dropped them off ten seconds late yesterday and she gave me this big lecture on tardiness as if I was five years old.’
‘She has to be strict about parents being late, otherwise people take advantage and treat the school like a hotel. It’s important for children to learn about good time-keeping.’
Clearly the pain hadn’t done anything to reduce Fiona’s ability to lecture. I bit my tongue. ‘What are your doctor’s instructions? Lots of rest, I suppose?’ I asked.
‘She’s to rest and she’ll start chemotherapy in three weeks’ time,’ said Mark, as if he was reading a shopping list.
‘Yikes! So soon,’ I said, looking at Fiona, who was glaring at Mark.
She nodded.
‘Do you think you’ll be able for it?’
She shrugged, as Mark said, ‘It’s what the doctor recommended.’
‘Well, we’ll all be here to help, so don’t worry.’ But I was frightened by the dread on Fiona’s face.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
Mark cleared his throat and said he had to get back to the office. He asked Fiona if she wanted to be carried up to bed.
‘No, thanks. I’d like to be up and dressed when the boys come back so they don’t worry,’ said the saintly mother, as her selfish husband got ready to slink back to the office, away from his responsibilities.
‘Fine. We can discuss that other matter later,’ he said, as he left.
When he had gone, Fiona slumped in her chair.
‘What’s he talking about?’ I asked.
‘Oh, Kate,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. She told me about the conversation she and Mark had had with the doctor. He had asked if they wanted to have more children and Fiona had said, yes. He explained that chemotherapy can cause infertility and that Fiona needed to consider whether she wanted some of her eggs to be preserved for the future. But he added that he wouldn’t recommend that she go down this avenue, first, because it would delay her treatment, and second, because of the high doses of hormones she’d be given to induce ovulation. But, he added, it was entirely Fiona’s decision and something she needed to think seriously about.
‘Mark said I need to focus on getting better and we can think about having more children later.’
For once I agreed with him. ‘Well, the priority now is that you get better. It’s only a possibility of infertility, and if the worst came to the worst, you still have two beautiful boys.’
‘But I really want more kids for Mark,’ Fiona said, welling up. ‘He’s such a brilliant dad. We were going to start trying again before all this happened.’
‘And maybe in a year or two you’ll get pregnant, but I don’t think postponing your treatment is an option at this stage. You have to take the doctor’s advice. He said he wouldn’t recommend it.’
‘But I love kids.’
‘Look, if you need eggs, I’ll give you mine. They’re shag-all use to me so you might as well have them. Problem solved. Now, I’ve to go and collect the boys or that witch will have the police out looking to arrest me for tardiness.’
As I drove to pick the twins up I thought about Fiona wanting more children. Having spent half a day with the twins I couldn’t imagine how anyone would want to add to the pandemonium. Where would you get the energy from? When would you have any free time to go shopping or read a magazine in peace? She must be mad. But, then, she had always been maternal. I seemed to lack that gene. I liked the twins but, God, was I
‘I’ll just have a cup of tea first,’ said Fiona, and sat down at the kitchen table. I put the kettle on. ‘How are the boys?’ she asked.
‘Great,’ I said. ‘They’ve been as good as gold. Although I’m not sure Mrs Foley is my biggest fan.’
‘What did you do?’ Fiona asked, sighing, which I have to say ticked me off, considering I’d been running around like a blue-arsed fly for the past twenty-four hours looking after her kids.
‘I didn’t do anything. I just dropped them off ten seconds late yesterday and she gave me this big lecture on tardiness as if I was five years old.’
‘She has to be strict about parents being late, otherwise people take advantage and treat the school like a hotel. It’s important for children to learn about good time-keeping.’
Clearly the pain hadn’t done anything to reduce Fiona’s ability to lecture. I bit my tongue. ‘What are your doctor’s instructions? Lots of rest, I suppose?’ I asked.
‘She’s to rest and she’ll start chemotherapy in three weeks’ time,’ said Mark, as if he was reading a shopping list.
‘Yikes! So soon,’ I said, looking at Fiona, who was glaring at Mark.
She nodded.
‘Do you think you’ll be able for it?’
She shrugged, as Mark said, ‘It’s what the doctor recommended.’
‘Well, we’ll all be here to help, so don’t worry.’ But I was frightened by the dread on Fiona’s face.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
Mark cleared his throat and said he had to get back to the office. He asked Fiona if she wanted to be carried up to bed.
‘No, thanks. I’d like to be up and dressed when the boys come back so they don’t worry,’ said the saintly mother, as her selfish husband got ready to slink back to the office, away from his responsibilities.
‘Fine. We can discuss that other matter later,’ he said, as he left.
When he had gone, Fiona slumped in her chair.
‘What’s he talking about?’ I asked.
‘Oh, Kate,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. She told me about the conversation she and Mark had had with the doctor. He had asked if they wanted to have more children and Fiona had said, yes. He explained that chemotherapy can cause infertility and that Fiona needed to consider whether she wanted some of her eggs to be preserved for the future. But he added that he wouldn’t recommend that she go down this avenue, first, because it would delay her treatment, and second, because of the high doses of hormones she’d be given to induce ovulation. But, he added, it was entirely Fiona’s decision and something she needed to think seriously about.
‘Mark said I need to focus on getting better and we can think about having more children later.’
For once I agreed with him. ‘Well, the priority now is that you get better. It’s only a possibility of infertility, and if the worst came to the worst, you still have two beautiful boys.’
‘But I really want more kids for Mark,’ Fiona said, welling up. ‘He’s such a brilliant dad. We were going to start trying again before all this happened.’
‘And maybe in a year or two you’ll get pregnant, but I don’t think postponing your treatment is an option at this stage. You have to take the doctor’s advice. He said he wouldn’t recommend it.’
‘But I love kids.’
‘Look, if you need eggs, I’ll give you mine. They’re shag-all use to me so you might as well have them. Problem solved. Now, I’ve to go and collect the boys or that witch will have the police out looking to arrest me for tardiness.’
As I drove to pick the twins up I thought about Fiona wanting more children. Having spent half a day with the twins I couldn’t imagine how anyone would want to add to the pandemonium. Where would you get the energy from? When would you have any free time to go shopping or read a magazine in peace? She must be mad. But, then, she had always been maternal. I seemed to lack that gene. I liked the twins but, God, was I
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