Breeding Ground Read Free Page B

still beautiful despite the weight, despite the fear, and I pulled myself together. There were a million reasons for something like this. There must be.
    I haven’t eaten for over a week. Pushing her words away, I straightened myself up.
    “Get dressed. We’re going to the doctor.” I could see her about to protest. “And no arguments.” The strength in my voice surprised even myself, and within ten minutes we were leaving the house. Whatever this was, we’d deal with it. Nothing was taking her from me without a fight. Not her, nor our baby.
    The rain was falling heavily, dripping from the eaves of the old houses and trees, and by the time we’d got into the surgery just off Market Square, only five minutes or so from the house, we were both soaked. They still operated on an “emergency surgery” policy, so as long as you turned up after four p.m. and were prepared to wait awhile, you were pretty much guaranteed to get seen by a doctor.
    Heading up the stairs, I wondered how long we would have to sit around for. The last thing we needed was for Chloe to catch a chill on top of everything else.
    Surprisingly, the dimly lit building seemed pretty desolate, and the elderly receptionist gave us a plastic number and brought Chloe’s details up on the screen
     
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    before telling us to take a seat. From behind her bifocals, she watched Chloe carefully, almost warily, to the point where it was becoming uncomfortable and I was glad when we got into the waiting room. Maybe she remembered Chloe from a previous visit and was shocked by the change in her, but whatever her reason, the staring was just plain rude as far as I was concerned.
    Far on the other side of the large open space lined with low chairs, an old man, easily in his eighties, coughed and shuffled in his seat. Apart from him, we were the only patients waiting. The rain beat at the windows steady and uncompromising, and I figured that must have been what kept the rest away.
    There was no background music to break the tension, and feeling suddenly awkward and out of place I sat us down on a long row against the far wall, next to the magazine table. Neither of us picked one up. The air barely moved and I resisted the urge to whisper.
    “Must be our lucky day, Clo. We’ll be in and getting you sorted out in no time.” I smiled at her, almost believing myself now that I was in the surgery, surrounded by anything-is-curable-if-you-catch-it-in-time leaflets. She smiled back, but it was almost lost in her bulging cheeks, less convinced.
    A buzzer went off, a light flashing on the board in front of us declaring Dr. Carney was ready for his next patient. The old man pulled himself slowly to his feet and hung his number next to the doctor’s name before disappearing down the corridor. It was number three.
    We were seeing Dr. Judge, and I thought our number two meant that he had started late, but obviously it was just a very quiet night for the surgery. Spookily quiet. I’d never come to an emergency surgery without having to wait at least forty-five minutes, not for as
     
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    long back as I could remember. Even as a child, when the town was smaller, you still had a good long wait ahead of you if you came after four. I tried to shake off my feeling of disquiet. There was nothing too odd about it. Out of thirty years, they were bound to have the occasional quiet night. This was just the first one that I’d ever encountered.
    Chloe was quiet beside me, and with just the pounding of my heart in my ears, I was glad when the buzzer broke the silence and called us to our appointment.
    Once in the impersonal office, I sat in a chair against the wall as the doctor weighed her, took her blood pressure and temperature, making all the expected noises, before finally peering into her nose and throat. She sat back down next to me and he took his leather chair on the other side of the desk, scribbling some notes down before speaking. With his head bent forward to write,