I had decided on a surgical abortion, rather than getting the abortion pill and doing it at home. While I knew the horror stories of "I took the abortion pill and am still pregnant" or having emergencies and such were rare, with my history of difficult periods - being told everything was "normal" when I knew something was very wrong - I didn't want to take any chances, and I also felt it was unwise to have any evidence of pills that could possibly be discovered by Steve.
That meant having to get myself to and from the clinic that day. I could take a cab, but I didn't feel safe dealing with strangers when I was sedated. So that meant having to ask someone I knew. Co-workers were right out, since Steve also was part of Lincoln's Inn and in any case I didn't feel friendly enough with most of my colleagues to ask them for such a favour.
I didn't want to ask my mum, because even though she publicly was pro-choice, I knew that me aborting her only grandchild was going to upset her and in any case, I still didn't want to deal with my mum for awhile, she had pissed me off too much at the rehearsal dinner.
I could ask my uncle Nigel - he was on my "would help me hide a body" shortlist, I knew he wouldn't judge me and he wouldn't go running to tell my husband - but I also knew he would probably be uncomfortable waiting around at the clinic.
So that meant Judith. I waited until she got back from her honeymoon with Terry - they went to Spain and Portugal - and then I sent her an e-mail to ask her if I could take her out to lunch and "catch up" within the next couple of days. I felt it was better to ask for this kind of favour in-person, away from Steve's eyes and ears.
Judith was agreeable to me treating her to lunch, and I picked out a nice Italian restaurant. Over appetizers - fried calamari and bruschetta with roasted marinated vegetables - Judith correctly deduced something was up. "Toni," she said, "you're usually not very social. What's going on?"
On the one hand, I didn't want Judith to feel used, and I did feel guilty that we had been spending less and less time together over the last few years, when we were quite close as teenagers. On the other hand, there was no bullshitting a fellow lawyer. I took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."
Judith's eyes widened and she stopped mid-chew, then she nodded slowly. "I rather thought as much, though it still comes as a surprise, I never thought you'd..." Her voice trailed off.
I didn't know whether or not to be offended by that - while Judith publicly supported gays and lesbians, I knew she had suspected I was a lesbian during uni and it made her uncomfortable and we had started to drift apart a little then; she seemed palpably relieved when Steve and I got together. This seemed like a continuation of that, as if she were shocked Steve and I actually had sex, recently even.
Mostly, I was too exhausted to be angry, or at least not with her. "Yeah," I said, feeling I needed to say something to fill the space.
Judith kept nodding. There was a long, awkward silence while we continued to work on our appetizers, and then Judith cleared her throat and leaned back. "So are... congratulations in order? Should I plan a baby shower for you -"
I shook my head vehemently, then I lowered my voice - though I didn't recognise anyone in the restaurant I didn't want to take the chance any of my colleagues were around, or this would get back to Steve. "I'm terminating the pregnancy. Next week. Next Thursday, specifically. I'm doing this at the clinic rather than with a pill, just to... to make 100% sure it's gone."
I had planned this out - I would have the abortion on Thursday, then go to Nigel's house that night for a "three-day weekend camping", something Steve had no interest in, except I wouldn't be camping, I'd be recuperating from the abortion without Steve badgering me for sex or expecting me to cook and clean when I needed rest. Nigel had already agreed to be my backup if I couldn't get Judith to take me to the clinic, and he and his partner - Non-Arsehole Steve - had assured me they wouldn't tell my husband.
Judith's eyebrows went up and then she quickly put on her neutral "courtroom face", which I knew well. She took a long sip of her lemon water and then she said, "I see."
"And yes, I don't want it to come off like I can only be bothered to hang out with you when I need something, but I could use a ride to and from the clinic. Actually, I'll be going from the clinic to Nigel's house." Judith and Nigel weren't related, she was my maternal cousin, but she had come over enough when I was living with him that he was like her uncle too.
Judith pursed her lips, and I felt myself scowl, the pit of my stomach rising. Judith was pro-choice, she had aspirations of standing as a Labour MP in 2015, but...
"You're not having Steve bring you?"
"No, Judith, I'm not." I exhaled. "I don't know if this is obvious or not, but Steve and I are having problems and have been for a long time now. I don't love him anymore, and staying with him is a constant source of stress when my job is stressful enough. I had planned on filing for divorce right after your wedding, but then I found out I was pregnant and decided it was better for my mental health to take care of this first. He doesn't know, and I don't plan on telling him because you know him getting a larger inheritance is contingent on having children and he'll pressure me to keep it, and... in any case, my body, my choice, right?"
"Right." Judith took another sip of lemon water, looking visibly uncomfortable - it was one thing to be politically pro-choice, it was another thing to hear your cousin was having a secret abortion and not informing the husband. "And you're... you're sure. Single mothers are common nowadays -"
"Judith, I would rather bloody die than carry this... this... this thing." That sentence came out more forcefully than I intended, and now as people at the table across from us stared, I realised I hadn't kept my voice down. I gave a nervous little laugh and chugged my water, "unladylike" or not. I was starting to think asking her for help was a bad idea - my heart was beating a little faster, perceiving a possible threat.
Judith blinked and squirmed in her seat, and for a brief instant I wished I hadn't said it - even though it was true, it was one of the most honest things I'd ever said in fact - but then she nodded and put a hand on my arm. "I'll take you to the clinic, Toni. I just wanted to make sure you're really sure and that it's not because you're worried about childcare arrangements, I would have been willing to help you with that, or maybe your mum -"
I wanted to spit. That, too, was another reason why I didn't want to bring a child into the world - I didn't want my mother trying to get involved and repeating the same mistake she had with me - forcing femininity on the child if it was a girl. But I didn't want to get into it about my mother, and it was the least of the reasons why I couldn't bring this pregnancy to term.
"It's not that," I blurted out. "It's... it's... it's everything. It feels wrong. My entire body, my entire life, how people see me, just... just bloody wrong. Being pregnant would feel... even more wrong." I want to be a boy, I thought, but didn't say it. I had said too much, enough to make Judith wince.
But I sure as hell felt it. I felt it into my bones, into my soul, and I was bloody tired. Once the divorce papers were filed and Steve and I had found separate living arrangements, I needed to make time to see a therapist and figure out what the fuck was going on with me. That seemed like yet another stressful, near-impossible hurdle, and I suddenly wanted a drink even though I didn't drink, with my family history of alcoholism. One thing at a time, I told myself.
"It will be OK," Judith said, giving my arm a squeeze, then a pat, her eyes kind rather than disapproving. "We'll go to the clinic and get this taken care of, then when you're ready to file for divorce from Steve, if you need my help I'll help you with that too."
I was so relieved that she wasn't judging me that I got choked up. Judith's mouth opened, then she quickly got up, came around and gave me a hug, not caring if people stared at us. She would make a better mother than I would, with her warm, cuddly hugs, and I let her muss my hair. "It's OK, Toni. It's your body, your choice, like you said, and I support you and we'll get through this, OK?"
I nodded, trying not to break down sobbing on her shoulder, allowing myself a moment of silent tears. "Thank you."
When Judith sat back down, she started to take a bite of food then she put it down before she could and she opened her mouth and leaned back in her chair. She took a long sip of her lemon water and glanced off to the side, and I knew she had something to say but stopped herself.
"What is it?" I asked her.
Judith took a deep breath. She looked around and lowered her voice. "Do you think you might be transgender?"
"Trans... what?" I racked my brain. All I could think of was RuPaul and suddenly I had a "Supermodel" earworm. "I'm not a drag queen?" WORK, turn to the left, WORK, turn to the right, WORK... Then I thought of Frank N Furter from Rocky Horror Picture Show, strutting in heels and stockings and garters singing I'm just a sweet transvestite... from Transsexual, Transylvania.
I was completely fucking confused what that had to do with me.
"No, but you're..." Judith made a vague hand gesture and then she said, "Look, just... just Google it later, but only when you're ready. You have enough to deal with right now."
"Um, OK." My curiosity got the better of me and I would have whipped out my phone right then to Google it if I didn't think it would come across rude - inviting my cousin out to lunch to ask a favour, then playing with my phone.
But not infrequently, if I didn't do something right then I would forget about it, and I had enough going on that the word faded into the background for another couple of weeks.
chapter 6 | return to A Place Called Home | return to Original Works | return to index