‘Why you play that stupid game, I don’t know,’ Alice sighed.
‘There’s ice in the freezer compartment.’
Jon opened the fridge. ‘Want a beer, little sis?’
‘Oh, go on, then.’
‘Alice? Anything to drink?’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
He took two cans off the top shelf, sprang the tabs a little awkwardly with his left hand and put one on the kitchen table.
‘What rubbish are you two reading?’ he asked, peering down at the glossy magazine spread out between them.
‘It’s an article called “Botox Babes”,’ Ellie replied without looking up.
The text was interspersed with photos of famous females snapped outside the premises of well-known cosmetic surgeons.
‘Ha!’ said Alice triumphantly. ‘I knew she was looking too damn good.’
‘You’re right,’ Ellie answered. ‘What was that premiere she appeared at looking dog rough?’
Jon realised he was well and truly excluded from the conversation. He emptied the ice tray into the sink, scooped up a handful of cubes and placed them in a tea towel. Twisting it into a knot, he swung it hard on to the floor. There was a sharp crack and the ice shattered. Punch immediately started to sniff tentatively at the point of impact.
Jon sat down, then reached his left hand across to Alice’s swollen stomach. ‘How’s the wee one?’
‘Sleeping at the moment. But he was kicking like a bugger earlier on.’
Jon smiled and sat back.
A page was turned and, pointing at the magazine, Ellie said,
‘Oh, I was thinking about going on this diet. It’s worked for loads of celebrities.’
Jon cocked his head to look at her. ‘You don’t need to lose any weight.’
Ellie smiled. ‘Aah, thanks.’ Her attention went straight back to the page. ‘It looks really simple. And you can still have the occasional treat.’
‘Alice,’ said Jon, ‘tell her. She doesn’t need to lose weight.’ But Alice was studying the page. ‘Yeah, it does look good.
Maybe we could go on it together, once the baby’s here. I’ll definitely need to lose a bit then.’
Jon looked despairingly at Punch. ‘Fancy watching The
Simpsons?’
He’d just settled into his armchair when Alice leaned through the doorway. ‘Don’t get too comfortable. We’re going out, remember?’
Jon made a show of slowly stretching out his legs, racking his brain for what had been arranged.
‘You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? Christ, Jon, you can be crap.’
He massaged a non-existent pain in his knee, mind furiously working. ‘No, I hadn’t.’
‘So where are we off to, then?’
Just as the silence reached breaking point, he remembered.
‘The parenting class at the health centre. Is it time to go already?’
Alice kept looking at him, suspicion showing in her eyes.
‘Yeah, six thirty, just like the last three weeks. You’re driving.’ She manoeuvred her stomach back out of the doorway into the hall. Wistfully, Jon put his can of beer on the table. The atmosphere in the meetings made him cringe, something about the happy looks on the organisers’ faces as they cheerfully outlined all the trauma ahead. Or it could be the fixed smiles of the parents-to-be, happily grinning but all betrayed by the trepidation shining in their eyes.
‘See you later, Punch,’ he said, switching off the telly and walking resignedly to the door. Out in the corridor he could hear Ellie clattering about in the kitchen. ‘You cooking, little sis?’
‘Yeah. Only spaghetti, though. See you in a bit.’
‘Good evening. Tea or coffee?’ The elderly woman beamed at them as he held the health centre’s swing doors open for Alice. After picking up their drinks, they proceeded across the tiles of felt carpet and into the meeting room. The hard plastic chairs were half taken by other couples and a pair of slightly embarrassed-looking women sitting on their own.
Jon glanced around, wondering how many of the other men resented the fact the classes had been arranged on Saturday nights. Quite a few, he guessed, judging from the looks on most of their faces.
He and Alice sat down, nodding hello to the couple beside them. Jon noted the prison tattoos on the man’s fingers and wondering how many times he’d been inside.
‘Oooof, that’s a relief,’ said Alice, stretching her feet out in exact imitation of the woman next to her.
‘Innit?’ she agreed. ‘My ankles are so swollen it feels like I’m on a plane the whole time.’
Alice smiled, ‘Have you tried any of those soothing creams they do for feet? They’re lovely.’
‘No, but that sounds a great idea.’
The two women slipped easily into conversation about their shared experiences of pregnancy. Jon and the other man sat back, Jon relieved that the presence of their partners between them prevented conversation.
‘Lovely to see so many of you here,’ said the health visitor a few minutes later. She started drawing plain blue curtains across the windows. ‘This evening we’re watching the birth video I mentioned last week. It’s not something you get to see on an average night’s television, but it’s well worth witnessing in advance of your own births I can assure you.’
Jon sipped his tea, realising to his annoyance there was no sugar in it.
‘OK,’ the health visitor continued. ‘Are we all sitting comfortably?’ She turned the telly on, then stood to one side with the remote for the video in her hand. Holding it within an inch of the machine, she pressed a button. The screen remained blank.
‘Oh, bother,’ she said, instantly flustered. ‘This was all meant to have been set up. Mary, can you work this thing? The little screen on the video recorder says it’s playing.’
Jon groaned inwardly as the woman who had made their tea got up uncertainly. Hooking strands of grey hair behind her ears, she leaned towards the handset, unwilling to actually take it off her colleague. ‘I don’t know, Marjorie. Did Trevor plug the scat lead thingy in?’
‘He said it was all ready. I don’t know.’ Marjorie thrust the remote at the video recorder again. ‘Nothing.’
‘Is it on AV?’ Jon asked, sitting forward.
‘Sorry?’ she replied, sounding relieved and instantly offering the handset to him.
Jon stood up and, after checking the leads were properly in at the back, pressed the TV/AV button. Immediately the screen was filled by a close-up of the view between a woman’s legs and a fast panting filled the room. ‘Unless this is one of Trevor’s private collection, I think we’re in luck.’
‘Quite, thank you,’ Marjorie replied, a tight smile on her face as a couple of the men suppressed snorts of laughter.
Jon sat down, only to receive a sharp jab in the ribs from
Alice.
Screaming started and a bulbous blue lump started trying to push its way out of the woman. Blood and slime were smeared across her inner thighs.
‘We’ve missed the first bit, but never mind,’ announced Marjorie. ‘As you can see, the baby’s head is just showing. The mother has been in labour for five hours and is fully dilated. Everything’s in the right place.’
Her screams faded into sobs and a voice off-camera said,
‘That’s brilliant. You’re doing brilliantly, Karen. Tell me when you feel the next contractions coming. Have some gas and air if you like.’
The camera panned upwards, revealing the distended belly, then the head and shoulders of a wild-haired woman. Jon was shocked to see she was totally naked, enormous and swollen nipples pointing off to the sides.
An ashen-faced man was sitting by the head of the bed, holding a plastic mask over her face. When he saw the camera was on them he tried to arrange the sheet across her breasts. As soon as they were covered she yanked it off again, eagerly gasping away behind the mask. He tried to take it off her face after a few more seconds and her hand clamped instantly over his, fingernails biting deep into his flesh.
‘Karen here opted for a natural birth. At first. By the time she changed her mind, it was too late for an epidural,’ Marjorie intoned.