Possession Black spot. Definitely a spot. Maybe not black, but definitely a spot. Right there. In the middle of the little window. More purple, or dark blue even. Yeah, not black at all. But still a spot, oh yeah, a spot. Fuck the colour. Does it really matter? No. It�s still a spot. Shit. �What am I going to tell him?� �That he�s a dad?� �Yeah, right.� �It would be the truth.� �Hmm.� Sara chucked the spotted bastard in the bin and looked in the mirror. She brushed a couple of strands of hair away from her eyes, and they fell back instantly. She left them there. Max stood behind her. �What am I going to tell mum and dad?� �That you�re having Reon�s child? I mean, have you even told them about Reon yet?� �Yeah, of course, sort of.� �Sort of?� �Fucking hell, you know what they�re like. They�re not exactly going to be thrilled to know I�m seeing one of them, are they.� �They�ve always been fine with me.� �Politeness. And anyway, I�m not sleeping with you, am I?� Sara and Max made eye contact in the mirror. Sara gently rubbed her hand over her midriff; over the flesh concealing the source of the spot. �Do I look like a mother?� �No.� �No?� �Err, yes?� �Yes?� �I don�t know, do you?� �I don�t know, I don�t feel like one.� �Well there you go then.� Well there you go then. Is this a mother I see before me? Fucking spot. Spot the difference. Mother � not mother. Mother � not mother. Mother in club. Mother with baby in club. Mother with baby in cot in club. Mother-to-be in the fucking club. �So are you going to tell him tonight, then?� �Oh yeah, right. Just stroll back out onto the dance floor and say �hey, babe, I�m pregnant.� That�d go down well.� Sara worked the lines with her Switch card. �Should you be doing this in your condition?� �What condition?� Sara inhaled and pinched her nose tight. Let Gianluca do the work. Max went down next � inhale, pinch, up, and up, and up, and up, and up, and up. Thee Maddkatt Courtship snuck through the door, My Fellow Boppers, as two more club kittens slunk in, all V2 and PVC and glitter spray. �Shall we?� �Yes, let�s.� Max led the way back to the throng. The DJ now full on an Ibiza trip. Caf� del Mar, here we come. Here we go. Girls and boys. Hey boy, hey girl. Hey mother. Hey clubber. All the way, through the lasers, to a spot on the ceiling. A spot. There shouldn�t be a ceiling, and there certainly shouldn�t be a fucking spot on it. Fly higher? No � there�s a fucking ceiling. Couldn�t make it anyway. Something�s holding me down. Rooted to the spot. It�s like being possessed. It is being possessed. A little possessive spot inside. Screaming like the beast. The beast inside. A screaming, kicking, dog beast mongrel. Reon�s mongrel. Possessed, possessing, draining, all consuming spot. * * * �Here you go, babe,� said Sara, handing Reon his tea. �Cheers.� They settled down together in front of Casualty. Sara curled up next to Reon on the sofa. He had one arm around her, and the other free to hold his tea. On the programme, a pregnant woman had had an accident. �Reon,� said Sara slowly. �Yes?� �Do you really love me?� �Of course I do.� She thought she was going to tell him. She really wanted to tell him. The words were tumbling around in her mind. Baby. Pregnant. Reon. You�re a father. �Was that it?� Reon asked. �Was what it?� �You just asked if I really loved you, and then didn�t say anything else. It sounded like it was leading to something.� �Err, no,� Sara realised she wasn�t going to tell him. �I was just making sure.� Reon laughed and stroked her hair. * * * �Do you want to come through now?� �OK, mum, be right there.� Sara and her dad left their armchairs to go to the dining room. The Sunday roast was laid out with Sara�s mum fussing around adding the final touches. It was nice, but Sara often wondered why this tradition, this ritual remained so important to her parents. �Mmm, this looks lovely, dear,� said Sara�s dad, taking up his usual position at the head of the table. It was a ritual even down to the seating arrangements � dad at the head, mum on the right with the window behind her, and Sara facing mum. The fourth side was always empty. �Would you like to say Grace, Sara?� asked her dad. �Oh no, dad, you�re much better at it than I am.� �OK then, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ�� Jesus Christ. Grace, graceful, how to be graceful when carrying another. Fourth side empty, inside full. ��amen.� �Well, tuck in everyone.� Sara chewed tentatively. The food was fantastic and it tasted of the old days, when Sara was a child. She thought about all the Sunday dinners they�d had around the table, and why the tradition was important. She had to tell them. How could she tell them? �So, Sara, did you go out last night?� �No, dad,� chew and swallow, �but we did go out Friday night.� �Who did you go with?� asked Sara�s mum. �Oh, it was just me and Max,� and Reon. �Oh right,� said Sara�s dad, clearing his throat. �Hmm, yes.� �So you�re still friends with Max then?� �Yes, mum, I�m still friends with Max.� There was a brief but awkward silence. �Well, your mother and I went to a lovely little do on Friday, organised by the church. Yes, it was a talk by�� Drop a bombshell, drop a bomb, in the middle of the dinner table. Subtlety? Honesty? Aggressively? How do you drop bombs? �Mum, dad,� Sara began, looking into her food. �Yes?� �There�s something I want to tell you.� Sara�s dad put his knife and fork on his plate, rocked back and folded his arms. �Go on.� �Well, the thing is,� Sara pushed peas round her plate, �I�ve had a change of situation.� �A what?� her dad rocked forward again. �Well, OK, right, mum, dad, I�m, err, pregnant.� �Pregnant?� Sara�s dad exploded out of his chair. �Oh, Sara,� her mother put her hands to her face. �But you haven�t, you�re not even seeing anyone!� her father was incredulous. �Well, that�s the other thing, dad�� �Oh good Lord, you�re married as well?� �No! No, dad, I�m not married, I wouldn�t get married without telling you, would I?� �Well you went and got pregnant without telling us, didn�t you?� Sara put her hands to her head, and battled with the tears. �His name�s Reon.� �Reon? Ree-on?� her dad leaned over the table. �That sounds like a, like a West Indian name.� �Yes.� �Yes? Yes? You�re seeing a West Indian boy?� �Yes, dad, I�m seeing a boy of West Indian origin, who�s name is Reon, who�s the father of my child, and who I care about very much.� �Oh, Sara,� repeated her mother. Sara began to sob. I shouldn�t have told them. Should have spotted the reaction a mile off. But it would have come out eventually. It will come out eventually. �In the bible�� �Dad!� �In the bible, Jesus would not help the Canaanite woman with her possessed child. Jesus was sent only to help the lost sheep of Israel. Not every Tom, Dick and Harry who needed saving.� �But, dad, Reon doesn�t need saving�� �Maybe not, but you do. Jesus agreed to help the woman only after she displayed great faith.� �I have faith in Reon.� �Well you shouldn�t.� �You don�t even know him!� �They�re all the same! And anyway, he got you bloody pregnant, out of bloody marriage!� Sara was openly crying now, and her mum was not too far off. �I just don�t know how� what it feels like. It must feel like being,� Sara�s dad furrowed his brow and scrunched up his fists as he searched for the right word, �like being possessed.� Sara�s mum started gently bringing the dinner plates together. Sara�s dad briefly stopped his tirade and stood, hands on hips, facing away from the table. Her mum was about to stand, when he started again. �What on earth does he have to say about all this?� �I haven�t even told him yet, all right? I haven�t even told him.� Sara�s mum sank back into her chair. * * * The door slammed. Reon cursed his way down the stairs, his voice getting fainter as he reached the outer door and made his exit. Sara stared after him, tears welling. Max came out of the kitchen. �He left then.� �Yeah.� �I don�t want to say I told you so�� �But you did.� Sara brushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes. �Why didn�t you tell him earlier.� �I don�t know.� �You silly cow.� �I have to go after him.� �No you don�t.� �Yes I do.� She went, running down the stairs with Max behind her. She stumbled blindly onto the pavement. Max shouted. She didn�t hear. I can�t hear. Sara stood near the doorway looking up and down the street. Reon was out of sight. Max stood by her. �Come back inside, Sara. He�s gone. There�s nothing you can do.� She put her arm round Sara�s shoulder and led her back up the stairs. When they got inside, Max made them both tea and they sat together quietly. �Sara, I really have to go now.� �OK,� Sara sniffed. �Are you sure you�re going to be all right?� �Yeah.� �If there�s anything you need at all, you just call me immediately.� Max left. Immediately. This needs to be dealt with. To be finished. Sara got up and went to the bathroom. She opened the cabinet and took out her contraceptive pills. Breaking one of the blisters, she let the pill drop into her palm and studied it intently. Then she swallowed it. Then another, and another until she had taken them all. You didn�t spot that coming, did you, dog beast mongrel? Sara didn�t stop there. She gathered everything from the bathroom cabinet and took it to the kitchen. There were two pieces of bread left in the packet. These she took and buttered carefully, making sure there was an even spread on each piece. She had always buttered both slices. One by one, she opened the containers and tipped the contents onto one of the slices, being careful to ensure no pills were left out, and then pressed the two pieces together to make the sandwich. She took a bite. It tasted vile, but she continued, trying to chew as little as possible. To wash it down she found a bottle of vodka in a kitchen cupboard and took a big hit from it. She almost gagged at this first swig, but she fought the nausea and went back to the sofa. After taking a few more swigs, she dropped the bottle and curled up, crying and pawing weakly at her stomach. Her eyes were screwed tight shut creating burnt orange swirling patches of light on the back of her eyelids. She felt her whole body swelling. The heat. I�ve never been so hot. The sun�s huge. Almost insulting. Don�t look directly � you get sunspots. Sunspots. Even the fucking sun is taking the piss. What is this place? It�s like a desert. It is a desert. Scorched earth. No grass. Few manky trees. Rocks. Lots of rocks. Vicious hills. Really fucking vicious hills. Huge lumps of ugly orange. Humps and lumps. The hump�s gone. Flat stomach. No spot. And this little hut. What the fuck is this all about? Little brown hut. Near some trees. In a fucking desert. And a screaming. From the hut. The hut�s screaming. Sounds like a child. A child in a hut in a desert. Calling for its mother. Its mother. Where is she? Taking her time, wherever she is. Is that a figure on the horizon, or just a spot? A spot on the retina. No, it�s moving, and it�s definitely a figure. Well spotted. More than one in fact; thirteen to be precise. Heading this way. Maybe the mother�s with them. The screaming�s getting worse. Oh God this is painful. Hardcore house has got nothing on this. Thirteen men � unlucky for some � no mothers. No mothers. The hump�s gone. Shit. One mother. Got to get out of here, catch Reon, give him his fucking baby. Thirteen men. �Mate, you�ve got to help me. I think that�s my baby, and I think something�s wrong with it. Sounds like she�s fucking possessed.� Come on, answer me. �I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.� �Israel? What are you on about? Look, please just help me.� �It is not right to take the children�s bread and toss it to their dogs.� �What dogs?� What dogs? God help me, what the fuck is this guy on about? �Look, mate, dogs eat anything you throw at them, be it yours or the kids or the fucking Pope�s. Now would you please just help me here?� �Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.� No crying. Blinding light. Whiteout. |