Sue had hardly slept the night before. She had no idea what had gotten into her as she had no plans of keeping this baby, no idea what had changed her mind. Nothing had altered: she would still make a lousy mother, she had no idea how she would be able to work with a small child in tow, still loathed babies of all description. She was now in uncharted territory, and here she was, waiting for the father of her child to pick her up to take her on a romantic weekend away. Should she tell him? He would probably be pleased, but then would he insist on being involved?

Was she really considering keeping this baby, or was it just that she couldn’t get rid of it? She had no idea how these things worked. Did even the most ambivalent mother fall in love as soon as that wrinkly screaming thing was placed in her arms? She suspected not, with all the reports of abandoned babies in the news. Could she, would she give it up for adoption? If she didn’t even know her own mind, how could she possibly tell Peter what was going on in her head? But then, didn’t he deserve to be told?

It was odd, sometimes she didn’t even feel pregnant. The nausea still came and went, but wasn’t as persistent as it had been these last few weeks. She looked at her profile in the bedroom mirror, wondering if a small bump could be detected yet, but it still looked like the same Sue reflection as before. If it hadn’t been for that fuzzy alien blob image that was branded on her brain, she could have sworn that all of it had just been a bad dream. Maybe it was a good thing that she was going away with Peter; it might just take her mind off things for a bit, give her the space before she needed to start seriously thinking about the future.

She had packed all the things she needed for the weekend away the night before, but she found herself taking everything out of the bag and repacking several times, double checking that she hadn’t forgotten anything and as a way of keeping her mind quiet for a while. She knew she was being silly. Torquay wasn’t at the end of the world, they had shops there where things forgotten could be bought, and it wasn’t as if you needed much for strolls along the beach.

At least it seemed quite sunny today, the rain and wind of the last few days had blown over leaving blue skies with a few cotton ball clouds scattered about. The sort of skies you saw in paintings but rarely remember seeing. It was probably still quite chilly outside though, so she had dressed warmly. She looked at her watch – still a while before Peter was due to pick her up, she had time to grab some breakfast. She went into the kitchen and popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster, then scrabbled around in the fridge to find the butter. Radio Four was on softly in the background, discussing the forthcoming state visit by the US president, but she didn’t really take any of it in. International politics didn’t seem that important in comparison with her own life at the moment.

The toast popped and she transferred the slices to a plate, blowing on her fingers afterwards to cool them down, then scraped some butter on to them with a knife from the drawer. She moved into the dining room, turning off the radio as she passed, perched on a chair and started to munch. She found herself wondering if this was the sort of thing a pregnant woman was supposed to eat. Weren’t there foods you had to avoid? She really was completely ignorant of these things, she hadn’t even had a close friend who had been with child to have picked up this sort of information by osmosis. Probably toast was okay, it was a fairly safe food, wasn’t it? Still, it highlighted her complete naivety about the whole process. She really needed to pick up some sort of book, do her research. Hmm, she made it sound like she was doing initial preparation for a work report rather than planning for impending motherhood…

She took the last bite just as the doorbell rang. Swallowing the last mouthful of toast quickly, she moved over to the intercom and let Peter into the apartment complex. As he walked in the door, he gave her a big hug.

“Hello darling, how are you feeling? Ready to hit the road?” Peter said as he stepped back from the embrace.

“Okay. I just need to wash these breakfast things up then I’m all yours. Are we okay for time?” Despite having had hours of insomnia to prepare, she felt slightly flustered and disorganised all of a sudden.

“Oh, no rush. It’s about a four hour car journey, but I’ve paid a deposit for the hotel room, so we don’t have to get there for any particular time. I just wanted to leave early so we could spend as much of the weekend together as possible. I tell you what, you wash, I’ll dry.” Peter picked up the plate and moved towards the kitchen.

Sue smiled, glad in a way that Peter was taking over. It didn’t take long to wash up the plate and knife she’d used and they were soon ready to go. “I’ll just go get my bag, it’s in the bedroom,” she said.

“No, let me carry it,” he said, quickly moving past her and grabbing the rucksack she had packed and repacked earlier. “This is a rest and relaxation weekend, remember? You’re not to lift a finger.” He saw she was about to protest and quickly added, “oh don’t worry, I don’t intend to do much either. That’s what we pay hotel staff for! We wanted a nice break away, so that’s what we’re going to get… a break.”

Sue gave up. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and for the first time in her life she found herself really enjoying being looked after. A token protest was all she would have been capable of anyway. Locking up, she followed Peter down to the car (a non-descript company hatchback, not being a car-owner she tended not to pay much attention to manufacturers and models) and settled herself comfortably in the passenger seat. Now the only question was how they were going to occupy the four hours on the road. This was probably the ideal opportunity to talk about the baby, but then again, if all went pear-shaped then it had the potential of creating a four hour hell of silence with a captive audience, not to mention ruining the entire weekend in the process.

Peter got into the driving seat, started the engine and the car pulled away smoothly. “There’s a load of CDs in the passenger glove compartment if you fancy some music for the journey,” he mentioned casually, his eyes on the road.

Maybe she should say something now. “Peter, I…”

“Sue.” Peter interrupted. “I know you’ve been through a lot these last couple of weeks and I know we probably have a lot to talk about. I don’t want to be unsupportive, and I do want to hear how yesterday went at some point. I just think that this weekend should be about escaping from all the worries for a while – a real chance to relax and enjoy our time together. It would be so easy for us to get into an argument or just become a little morose, and I really don’t want our memories of this weekend to be marred by that. Is that horribly selfish of me?”

“No, not at all.” Sue in fact was more than a little relieved, it was as if he’d read her mind. “I agree completely. It’s our first weekend away together, let’s make the most of it. We might not get the opportunity again for awhile.” Especially with a small child in tow, she thought, but did not say out loud. She rummaged around in the glove compartment and pulled out a random CD. “How about a little Bruce Springsteen?” She said, brightly.

“Sounds good to me,” he glanced over her and smiled.

They spent the rest of the journey listening to music and making small talk. Sue even dosed off for half an hour or so, the soporific drone of the car making the insomnia of the night before catch up with her.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re here!”

Sue awoke with a start. The engine was silent and they were sitting in a hotel car park. “I’m sorry, I must have been more tired than I thought. Have I been asleep long? You should have woken me.”

“No, not long, only about half an hour, and it looked like you needed the sleep. Let’s check in then decide what we want to do first.” Peter grinned over at her, then got out of the car, walking around to open her door.

“I’m not an invalid you know,” she said semi-crossly, but it was only a token protest. She had started to secretly enjoy all the intention.

Peter got the bags out of the back of the car, then they both ambled over to the reception. “Good afternoon, I’d like to check in please. I’ve booked a room under the name of Marks… Mr and Mrs Marks.” He ignored Sue’s raised eyebrow at the name of the reservation.

“Certainly sir.” The receptionist scrolled down a list on her computer. “Ah yes, here we go. Could you fill out and sign this form please? I’ll just go get your room keys and get someone to show you to your room.”

A few moments later, they’d dropped their bags off into their room and were strolling down the high street.

“I’m sorry, I had tried to book one of the suites but they’ve got some sort of conference on and they were all booked up for the weekend.” Peter said apologetically.

“Don’t worry, the room is lovely.” Sue gave Peter’s hand a little squeeze. “I had a peek in the restaurant on the way down too, and the menu looks amazing. Can we eat there tonight?”

Peter grinned. “Of course! Your wish is my command. So, we have a whole afternoon at our disposal. What do you fancy doing?”

“Hmm.” Sue pondered, too busy luxuriating in all this time alone together to want to have to decide. “What are our options?”

“Well…” Peter thought carefully, “we haven’t had any lunch yet. We could go down to the seafront and have fish and chips – that’s kind of traditional by the seaside, apparently. It’s probably a bit cold for a trip around the bay on a boat, but we could probably survive a short walk along the beach, don’t you think? I’ll try and behave myself and avoid suggesting ice creams!”

Sue laughed. “That sounds a lovely plan. If we see something interesting along the way we can always make a detour.” The sea air was definitely doing her good already, she could feel it. Far better for the lungs than the petrol-fumed London air.

They strolled hand in hand past all the shops at the seafront until they found a smart looking fish and chip restaurant. “It’s a bit posh for a chippy, isn’t it?” Peter whispered to Sue, making her stifle a laugh. Posh or not, she later had to admit that they were probably the best fish and chips she’d ever tasted, although it was probably in part the company that made them so special.

“This was a great idea of yours,” she leant towards Peter in a confiding manner.

“What?” Peter pretended innocence. “The chips?”

“No, not the chips! Well, okay, those too. I meant this weekend away. I’m really enjoying myself, thank you.”

Peter laughed rather than portray any false modesty.

Sue felt the happiest she’d felt in a very long time. Nothing could spoil this now.