It's been impossible to avoid. The hashtags, the call to arms, the feeling that we are all being inevitably being pushed towards a Handmaid's Tale of a future. It's terrifying to watch. Because there will be countries taking note of what is happening in the West in order to justify their own cruelties. I'm sure some have taken the Northern Ireland line of reference for their restrictions - a deeply unjust deviation from what should be law there as much as it is in England and Wales. It starts with abortion, then it filters into control of every aspect of a woman's life and her ability to make the simplest of choices. You've watched A Handmaid's Tale. June tells you how it starts. You get the flashbacks from Serena Joy preaching the virtues of 'traditional values' while never thinking it would apply to her. That slope is the steepest of declines and we should all be worried.
Liz Lincoln tweeted that we needed to start normalising abortion in our romances. We do with contraception and sexual health. We normalise everything else - we should do this too. I wanted to contribute my own. So here's Athena's Quiet, a short tale of a normal woman, doing a normal thing, to continue with her normal life.
Athena's Quiet © Billy London
The
scent of ginger mingled with fried onions, stirring Athena from her sleep. Local
anaesthetic for the win, she thought, half sitting up in the duvet smothering
her. He was cooking for her. Cooking by Shan was reserved for special occasions
only. She supposed this counted as a special occasion. it wasn’t every day you
had what rhymed with a schschmortion.
Apparently
doubling up on the injection and condoms was kryptonite to a determined zygote.
At work, a colleague watched her open a window, then turn her personal radiator
on, then close the window again before announcing, “Athena that looks like a
hormonal thing. You might be pregnant.”
“I
beg your pardon?”
Her
colleague shrugged. “First thing that tripped me up. My temperature.” She paused.
“Do you want me to get a test for you? I know a good one for a tenner.”
Athena
agreed, only because she didn’t need the worry of a potential pregnancy in
addition to everything she needed to do by day’s end. Low and behold, the test
that should have bought her some lottery tickets gave her a minor panic attack
instead.
Shan
has been as shocked as she’d been when she showed him the test once. “But…” he
began, frowning over his black rimmed glasses. “Fucking hell. Fuck. Fuck!” He
drew out the word in a loud exhale. “We just bought this place. We’re so broke!”
“Yuuup.”
Athena
rested a hand on her cheek while Shan grappled with the news. His hands went
from his hair to flexing back and forth from fists, making his arms strain in
the thin cardigan he wore. His disquiet both pleased and confused her. He
definitely wasn’t happy. But his devastation couldn’t be defined. In addition
to their lovely little cottage which cost far more than it was worth, they’d
booked themselves a proper holiday. The last one they anticipated having before
home improvements would take over. She loathed the idea of cancelling their
time away. Of having to get a pram rather than the pouffe she wanted for the
living room to complement their open fire place. To watch her body lose the
control she’d fought so hard for. To risk the delicate balance of her mind. It
just seemed horribly unfair.
“Can
I say what I think we should do?” Shan offered. “And if you want to hit me, can
you hold off until I’ve finished.”
She
sniffed. “I’ll allow it.”
He
closed his eyes. “Not have it.” Relief poured through her. God, thank you for being
in mental sync with my man. He opened one eye. “You’re not hitting me.”
“Is
there more?” She asked, feeling benevolent. “You said to wait until you
finished.”
He
spread his huge hands apart. “That’s it. I just wanted you to wait before you
hit me.”
“I’m
not hysterical,” she said mildly.
“But
you’re pregnant.”
“Still
not hysterical, mate.”
He
looked a sickly colour of pale. Poor man. “What do you want to do?”
Athena
shrugged, feeling bile rising in her throat. “I don’t want it. I’m sorry.”
He
let out a whooshing breath and scooped her up into his lap, resting her on his
thick thighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think my balls contained that power.”
She
snorted with laughter. “You should be, for the bullshit I’m about to go
through.” A thought occurred to her immediately, sending a wave of nausea
through her at the very idea. “Don’t tell Garret.”
Shan
looked taken aback. “What? Why?”
“He’s
a judgemental cunt,” she answered. Athena couldn’t remember how the
conversation came about; they’d been out celebrating their first home, fully
owned (mortgaged to the nines but theirs all the same). Maybe that progress
soured the taste in Garrett’s mouth and he decided to get political with her
arse. A mistake after so much tequila, her articulation always improved after a
drink or four. Garrett was one of Shan’s oldest friends. Loyalty was her
boyfriend’s strongest and weakest trait, but she’d learned the hard way in
getting between friends in life before Shan. She refused to risk it again, but intuitively,
Shan kept his distance from Garrett since that night.
“I
supposed you’re an improvement in company.” He slurred after trying to irritate
her on female politicians on social media. “After Lynn and her baby killing
ways.”
“Whoa!”
Athena yelled, leaping to her feet. “What the fuck man? Who says that?”
He
yanked her back down and spluttered into her ear. “She was all for men’s rights
until it came to me. Got rid. Told me after and I shouldn’t worry.”
“When
was this?” She asked, feeling horribly sorry for Lynn, that she hadn’t felt
enough of a kinship to speak to Athena about it.
“Last
year. ‘S why we broke up. Couldn’t look at her any more. She stole that from
me.”
“Stole
what? You barely liked her,” Athena blustered.
“I
could have been a dad!”
“Yeah
but did you ask her if she wanted to be a mum?”
“What
about me?”
“What
about you? You can have a thousand kids if you want to! Be a dad tomorrow if
you like!”
He
sneered at her. “Of course you’d back her up like a typical feminazi. Bet you’d
do the same to Shan if he looked the other way for a second.”
“The
only time Shan looks the other way is if I’m cooking,” she spat back. “Why are you
feeling sorry for yourself? With all the I want to be a Dad business, do you
know what pregnancy does to a woman? Do you know how it can kill her? How she
can get diabetes, piles, high blood pressure, hair falling out. Teeth falling
out. It’s not sunshine and fucking rainbows and that’s before she’s even given
birth. And while you’d be in the pub, I guarantee you would,” she added before
he could protest, “Lynn would’ve been at home with the baby for you to tell her
she’s a frigid cunt for not putting out.”
“I’ve
never called her that!” He blustered.
Athena’s
lip curled in disgust. “Yes, you have! At least three times when I’ve been
standing right next to her!”
Garrett
shook his head, his eyes reddening, from anger or upset, she didn’t know or
truly care. “It’s not right. You can’t say her doing that without me knowing is
okay.”
Oh yes I fucking well can. She posed a question to him, “if she had
cancer, and she cut it out without you knowing, what would be the problem?”
He
stared at her in utter horror. “What? Athena! You can’t compare a baby to
cancer!”
“With
all those side effects and risk of death? I fucking well can. It’s in her body,
it depends on her body, on her sacrifice.”
“It’s
a living person.”
Athena
rolled her eyes so hard, her retinas ached. “So, what did you pay for as soon
as she got pregnant? Days off work? Start a trust fund? Stocked up on nappies?
Buy a house? Exchanged that ridiculous car for a family saloon?” His face
turned puce. “Hmm. Lynn was supposed to do all of that herself and you just
what? Turn up to wet the babies head?”
Garrett
stood up. “You’ve got a sick mind. Shan should get rid.”
“He’s
never had oral sex like it, he’s not going anywhere.” She smirked and raised a
glass to him as he stormed to the bar. He’d been vile to women at the best of
times, but after that Garrett actively sought to insult her out of Shan’s
hearing. It never bothered her. Until now. The thought of him knowing.
Labelling her “baby killer” along with Lynn who was now the “psycho ex” even
though she was getting married next year. It made her feel ill.
“He
won’t understand. He thinks women are either baby containers or baby killers.”
Shan’s
face contorted. “When did he think like that!”
“It’s
there. Just please. Trusted folks only. Even then just sound a motherfucker out
first. They’ll feel sorry for you and call me a bitch for snatching fatherhood
from you.”
His
jaw flexed. “I’d dare anyone to say that to my face. I’d fucking dare.”
“You
actually like me!” She said it on a delighted laugh.
“I
love you,” he corrected her, squeezing her gently into his bulk. “No one gets
to say shit about us. No one.”
True
to his word, he didn’t relay a single thing. She had no idea how his parents
felt about it, only that they sent her some flowers with a card to say they
were thinking of her. She called Lynn the day before the procedure.
“Hold
on, let me go to another room,” she whispered into her mobile. Eventually,
Athena heard a door close. “Was it Garrett who told you?”
Athena
winced. “Yeah.”
“He’s
such a cock,” she fumed. “Bet he still calls me a baby killer, doesn’t he?”
“I
set him straight.” She promised.
Lynn
gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’m sure you did. Look, my fiancé doesn’t know any
of the old lot. He doesn’t know I’ve had one.”
Athena
blinked. “But you’re getting married.”
“Yeah.
And he wants kids. So do I. I just didn’t want them with that walking,
insulting muppet. Can you imagine being tied to that prick for the rest of your
natural days? I want to have kids with someone who gives a fuck about me. Adam’s
family is really fucking middle class. Like scratching climb into higher
society middle class. Nice girls don’t have abortions, and certainly not their
daughters in law.”
“That
they know of.”
“Oh
Athena, I love you I really do but you don’t understand how people look at you
differently when they find out. It’s so fucking disappointing. Who’ve you told?”
“Shan.
My mum. You. That’s it.”
“Why’s
that?”
It
was a rhetorical question. “It’s personal. I don’t want everyone to be talking
about my body.”
“What
do you want to know?”
“How
much does it hurt? I’m too far gone for the pill.”
Lynn
took a deep breath. “Depends on your pain threshold. The procedure itself didn’t
hurt. I was under local, so I was awake. It was probably the longest ten
minutes of my life. After it just felt like the worst side of period pains. You
may cry. A lot at nothing. You may not. You may be fine. It’s different for
everyone.” Lynn hesitated. “Fee?”
“Yeah?”
“Can
you do me a favour?”
“What?”
“Don’t
go on your own.”
Athena
started.
“Please.
It’s just not something you especially should do on your own.”
“What
did you do?”
She
sniffed. “I got an Uber.”
Shan
told her they’d get an executive car from the clinic back home. He excused the
expense as a necessity because fuck getting on a tube after that. He’d
shuddered, describing in detail the potential disgust a journey on the Northern
Line at one in the afternoon would entail. Body
odour. Smelly food. Someone tapping makeup onto your jeans. A suited twat
stepping on your French Soles. Man had a point. At the consultation, with
Shan sitting forward resting his hefty arms on his knees, the consultant told
her that she didn’t have to talk to anyone about it if she didn’t want to. No
one had the right to tell her what to do. The consultant sent an arch look to
Shan and repeated the two words with such emphasis, a blush rose on Shan’s
cheekbones.
“Rude,”
he said under his breath, to Athena’s smuggled giggle. She thought about the
friends she wanted to talk to about it, to the point where she had to bite her tongue.
The same friends who were talking about how they tracked their ovulations, who
were meeting doctors to discuss their fertility, ones who were about to send
out invitations to their baby shower. In an eye twitching moment, Athena
promised any of said pregnant friends that if they decided to have a gender
reveal party, she’d report them all to the Home Office. She wanted to talk
about it so badly. The leaflet told her one in three women had an abortion
before the age of 41. She knew them. They just weren’t talking.
The
only person Athena truly worried about calling was her mother. Her overly
religious, traditional mother.
“What
in God’s name Athena!” she bellowed when Athena said she was sort of pregnant.
“It
happens. I’m sorry.”
“What
are you sorry for? More importantly, what are you doing about it?”
Athena
didn’t hesitate. “I’m not keeping it. I can’t. We just bought this place and I’ve
got less money than I did when I was a student.”
“Oh
thank God.”
She
removed the mobile from her ear and put it back again. “What?”
“After
all the money I spent putting you through school and university. The fact that
you can’t even fry plantain properly and you want to have a baby? No. It’s not
your time.”
Athena’s
mouth twitched. “I said I don’t. I can’t.”
“And
that’s one of the better life decisions you’ve made.” Her mother sighed. “I
wouldn’t want for you what my mother had to go through. You know that’s what
killed her, don’t you?”
Athena
heard the gossip from cousins as to what took out her Grandma Ruby. From
pneumonia to a snake bite. She hadn’t a clue that it was... “What happened?”
“She
went to someone to help because she couldn’t afford to go to a doctor. They cut
her badly, Athena, she bled to death.”
“Oh
my god,” Athena whispered and a hundred horrific thoughts spun through her
mind. Good Ol’ Blighty wouldn’t kill her. But then again, she was a black
woman. What wouldn’t? “How old were you, Mum?”
“Seven.”
“Then
who told you?”
“Your
Uncle Martin,” she said dismissively. “He can’t keep his mouth shut for anything.
He said she didn’t want any more children and to be fair, seven is enough for
any woman. There was no reason for her to have eight. And it killed her.”
“Mum.
I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Why
would you?” came the sarcastic retort. “It’s never been something we talk
about. The only reason I’ve accepted you living with Your Man is because he’s
told me he’s going to marry you. Time’s ticking on that.”
She
ignored her mother’s stance on marriage. She could afford to with all this
brand new information. “I thought you’d talk me out of this.”
“God’s
sake, why? Alright, say I did have a problem with you having an abortion. What
would you do?”
“Still
have an abortion?” She offered with a shrug.
“Then
don’t worry about me. Unless... What’s Shan’s thoughts?”
The
first time she’d called him anything other than Your Man. “He’s one hundred
percent with me. No time for baby time.”
Her
mother sighed in relief. “Good. At least you’re both being sensible. Do you
want me to come with you?”
Athena
felt tears prickle behind her eyes. In relief of her mother’s words, in her
offer, in a wave of hormones she wanted to stop fucking with her. “No, Mum it’s
okay. Shan’s coming with me.”
“He
should do, since this is his fault.”
“Takes
two to tango.”
“Well,
he should have worn a waistcoat then.”
It
made her laugh even now, despite how much it made her back ache. “I want the
best for you,” her mother added over her laughter. “You know what that is
better than anyone.”
“Thanks
Mum.”
“What
else am I here for? I’m letting the dog in now. Call me after.”
The
revelation of her grandmother’s tragic death made her talk Shan’s ear off. And
off he went on Google, using a iPen to circle diagrams and highlight articles.
“But
you don’t even want to read reviews. This is basically the same thing,” she
wondered at his interest.
“I
need to know how to look after you. It’s not a bad period,” he replied. “Anything
that involves anaesthetic has risks.”
Lines
between his arched brows were becoming more defined. Ever since she’d told him.
She promised to rub a little snail serum into his skin before he slept. Or
maybe they should go to a spa. Get a cheap Wowcher deal and peace out of London
for a bit. His care seemed almost too much. She really wanted him to go back to
giving her bum a cheeky slap and calling her a future Nailed It contestant. You
burn pancakes just one time…
That
day, she would be able to recall with the strangest of clarities; what she wore
(a BooHoo lougewear co-ord in an oatmeal colour she’d seen on a reality tv star
the week before) with the Adidas trainers Shan bought for her to go running
with him, how the sky was the lightest blue she’d seen in sometime, Shan’s
usual cardigan, t-shirt and jeans combo but in a complimentary colours to her
oatmeal get up, sharing his earpods with her so they could watch The IT Crowd
on their way. Her boyfriend’s eyes were puffy from lack of sleep. Served him
right for falling into the black hole of procedural risks. In the theatre, Athena
focused on the enormous earrings of her doctor. Enormous diamonds that sparkled
with every movement.
When
the earrings were out of sight, she looked at the nurse who was losing his hair,
a widows peak forming. Eddie Munster, she called him. His name was Carlo. He’d
told her to reach for him if she was in any pain or if she needed anything. Just please let it go well. I don’t want to
deal with this any more. She was tired of feeling sick, tired of feeling
tired, of her breasts aching to the point that her bras were verging on S&M
without the possibility of an orgasm at the end which seriously pissed her off.
Lynn had been right. It was the longest ten minutes of her life. Eddie
Munster/Carlo, wheeled her into the recovery room which had a haze to it. Whether
it was the sunshine or the local anaesthetic weaving its way into her, she hadn’t
a clue. Only that she felt lighter than she had in weeks. All that worry; all
that hushed talk; all that fear… evaporated. She slept. Just peaced out for a
cloud-like rest. When she opened her eyes, Shan sat next to her bed, his iPad
balanced in the crook of his arm while he rummaged in his rucksack for something.
He glanced up to see she was awake and his face glowed with his smile.
“Alright,
Love Muff?”
She grinned.
“I’m okay. What are you looking for?”
“Those
spicy tortilla chips you love. I know I threw them in here. With the crème caramel.”
A look of guilt crossed his face. They’d bought the small chiller bag when
looking for a baby gift for one of their friends. It was useful. The times it
had come with them to open air theatres, cinemas, after work picnics. They had
such a beautiful life together, just the two of them…
Carlos
came back to run over her aftercare, just to ensure she’d go to her GP or
hospital if anything felt wrong. Shan assured Carlos with a familiar flicker
that looked like possessiveness that Athena would be well cared for.
Their
executive car arrived to take them home. To be fair, Athena couldn’t really appreciate
as her stomach rolled in protest of the chips and the crème caramel – her guaranteed
recovery treats. She just didn’t want to be sick in a fancy car. Shan scooped
her from the vehicle once it smoothly came to a halt outside their cottage. His
strength sank into her, her hand cradling the cords in his neck.
He stripped
off the oatmeal get up and wrapped her in their duvet. Lying down next to her,
he stroked her hair until she fell asleep again. Her dreams slipped from the
beach to the city to the mountains. Just her and Shan.
The scent
of food woke her up. She grabbed Shan’s discarded cardigan and padded downstairs
to the kitchen. He did an electric wave, shifting the ladle from one hand to
the other and her laugh startled him into juggling the utensil. He put it down
to cup her face, examining every part with his liquid dark eyes.
“You
alright? Feeling nauseous?”
She
shook her head. “I’m not bad. Probably just need to eat so I can take some more
drugs. Drugs,” she added with a singsong.
“I’ve
done that donburi you’re obsessed with.”
“With
duck or chicken?”
He
sent her a disgusted look. “Don’t even try to checkmate me, I know you. Call
your mum,” he ordered. “She’s been texting me prayers every hour on the hour.”
Shan
spooned some kimchi into a bowl then set the table while she FaceTime’d her
mother.
“I’m
coming over tomorrow,” her mother insisted. “Lower the camera so I can see what
you’ve got.” Her mother made an appreciative sniff after Athena showed her the
huge bowl of food. “I’ve made some soup for you.”
“Thanks
mummy,” she whispered, feeling overwhelmed.
“It’s
just soup. If I really was worried, I’d have made you waakye and fried some
fish. You had a ten minute operation. You’re fine.”
“Harsh
but fair,” Shan murmured.
“Thanks
Mum,” she toned it down for the disrespect and blew her a kiss to end the call.
Food
finished, Shan sent her to the living room. He’d already started a fire to
toast the cold room and turned the tv on. She flicked through Netflix,
wondering who could offer her comfort. Oh yes! Final Space. As soon as Shan
heard the titles, he snatched the remote control from her.
“Absolutely
not.”
“What
the fuck?” she bellowed. “That’s my comfort tv!”
“No,
you’re just going to cry. Stop it. Watch something you hate. Watch Riverdale.”
He
had a point. “I could watch you wash up badly. I hate that.”
The
grin he sent her usually would have her half naked with her legs in the air. “You
adore me.”
“Do
you still adore me though?” She didn’t know where the question even came from,
or the flood of emotion that came with it. Instead of what should have been a
reprimand for questioning his feelings, she found herself on her feet and tucked
into a Shan hug. Enveloped in his arms, she knew the answer, even before he
scattered kisses in her hair, tugging at the plaits so she would look at him.
“You
did the most incredible thing for us. You and me. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll
love you forever for that. I mean it.”
The last
cobwebs of doubt evaporated by the sheer strength in his words, in his arms, in
his love. She closed her eyes and savoured the embrace. Her bones felt as
weightless as the heaviness in her lower body. She searched for upset, for guilt,
for regret and found not a single one. She had Shan.
She
piped up. “We’re still going on holiday though, right?”
“Oh,
without a doubt,” his voice rumbled with determination over her head. “We
deserve it. House buying is stressful as fuck and this is just unnecessary
additional bullshit. We need Vitamin D. You know how important that is for us
ethnics.”
God’s
sake, she thought with a giggle. He did know her too well.
The start...
https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/abortion/
https://mariestopes.org.uk/abortion-services/
