3.9
A week later and she couldn’t motivate herself to move a muscle. She’d returned from her second and this time self-funded visit to her doctor an hour before and gone straight to her room and to her bed. At the surgery, after a humiliating few minutes explaining how she hadn’t managed to have an ultrasound, a further ten minutes enduring cold-hand prods and the icy pad of the stethoscope pressed hard here and there, the doctor-witch told her with considerable enthusiasm that she was having twins. Twins. Not one but two tiny foetuses sloshing about inside her. The doctor had been delighted, just about bouncing in her seat with vicarious jubilation as if those foetuses were her own progeny.
Yvette was as ebullient as a fish-hooked mullet. She pictured Thomas in his tiny unit surrounded
