We knew little about the donor, the hospital keeping his identity strictly confidential. All we knew was that he was a young man in his late twenties, a university graduate with auburn hair. I thought it was best we choose somebody with similar physical features to myself so we knew what ‘we were getting’ so to speak. At least that’s what I kept on telling myself.
‘Excuse me? I hope you don’t mind me butting in.’ I was vaguely aware that somebody had nestled themselves between our stools, a psychedelic mass of colour hovering in my peripheral vision. I turned my head, trailing my eyes upwards until they rested on the face of a lady, her eyes kind and her hair the colour of a Palma Violet. ‘I’m Magda.’ She smiled, her straight teeth a shade off white. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ She held out a dainty hand, her manicured nails painted a luminous orange.
‘Louisa, nice to meet you.’ I felt grubby as I held out my own hand, my nails bitten down to the skin. ‘And this is James.’ I felt strangely awkward introducing James, in the whole situation to be truthful. It wasn’t normal, not least in my world, for random strangers to strike up conversations, especially not in fertility clinic cafeterias.
‘I’ve seen you both around,’ she continued, fixing her gaze on James. ‘Who’s your doctor?’
‘Doctor Hughes,’ I answered. ‘The owner.’
‘Mine too,’ she gushed, reaching out to take my hand in hers. ‘How long have you been with him? Isn’t he wonderful? Well, I hope you don’t mind me saying,’ she continued, not giving me a chance to answer either of her questions, ‘but I overheard you mention a sperm donor.’ She mouthed the words, as if revealing something top secret. ‘Me too.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed James stiffen. I pulled my hand away, not comfortable with her overfamiliarity. ‘Oh, well, we’re just contemplating it at the moment. Nothing is set in stone.’
‘Well, anyway…’ she continued with a flick of her hand. ‘I have no choice but to use one. Not interested in men very much. Not that I bat for the other team, mind,’ she laughed, nudging James in the ribs. ‘Has Doctor Hughes mentioned the support group to you? Only I haven’t seen you there.’
I picked up my smoothie off the table, despite its being empty, and began to fiddle around with the straw. ‘He has mentioned it but I don’t think…’
‘Nonsense,’ she said, interrupting me. ‘You should come. You both need support at a time like this.’
‘Well, I don’t…’
‘We’d love to,’ said James, which shocked me to say the least. ‘Let us know when it’s on and we’ll be there.’
Suddenly, a shriek pierced the air followed by heavy footsteps on the narrow corridor that joined the cafeteria to the consolation rooms. I swivelled round and looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows which lined the front of the cafeteria, seeing a woman fly past, tears streaming down her face. A man, who I assumed to be her husband, gave chase, his suit several sizes too large for him and his face crumpling in on itself as he pleaded for her to come back.
‘Oh dear,’ said Magda. ‘That’s Annette and Ron. Been trying for a baby for over ten years, they have. Five failed IVF attempts under their belt but she was finally successful on the sixth a few months ago.’ She looked directly at me, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘Do you think she’s had a miscarriage?’
‘Lou, I’m awfully sorry.’ Magda appears back by my side, her voice pulling me away from my thoughts. ‘I thought I had another few quid on me but I don’t. You’ll have to go and pay.’ She looks down at her feet, her cheeks reddening. ‘I can’t believe I pestered you to come for a coffee and now I’m making you pay.’
I shrug, already reaching under the pram to retrieve my purse. ‘It’s fine, don’t fret.’ I stand up, catching a glimpse of Magda’s coffee, the skin now peeling back and reminding me of a mud mask. ‘I’ll get you another while I’m at it, shall I?’
She nods. ‘If you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all. You watch Cory. I won’t be a tick.’
I make my way over to the counter where a burly woman with hairy arms and a nose ring guards my unpaid-for cup of coffee, her tattooed knuckles positioned through the handle. I swallow loudly, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that this is the notorious ‘Mama’.
‘Can I get another one of those?’ I ask, holding up my purse like I’m about to participate in some sort of dodgy drug deal. ‘I have money.’
‘No sweat,’ she replies, her voice so deep I wonder if she ought to change her name.
‘Oh, Louisa, fancy seeing you here?’ I blanch at the distinct sound of Annette’s voice, which comes from behind me. Can today actually get any worse?
I turn around. ‘Hey, Annette, how are you?’
`Fine. Just nipped in for a few mince pies and a custard slice for Ron. Bettabuys have run out.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Bettabuys? I thought you always said Bettabuys was for poor people.’
She stiffens. ‘Yes, well, Ant and Dec did the advert for them this year and I quite like them.’
I laugh. ‘You must have a fetish for small people.’
She frowns. ‘Don’t know what you mean.’
‘Oh, right…’ I offer, wondering why the hell she is even here. Surely a woman who shuns Bettabuys wouldn’t be seen dead eating Mama’s delicacies?
‘Ah, look, Magda’s here too.’ She waves over at Magda but I fail to catch her response.
‘I’m just buying coffee. Do you want one?’ I ask Annette, out of common decency as opposed to actually wanting to spend any time with her.
‘If you insist.’ She pulls out her mobile phone and proceeds to tap away on the touchscreen, angling the phone away from me. ‘I’ll just let Ron know I’ll be another twenty minutes. He’s just called actually,’ she continues. ‘Said you were in the pharmacy earlier.’
I feel my cheeks flush. ‘Yes, I, erm… Well, it’s difficult to explain.’
‘Well, actually he was acting very strangely. Talking about pickled eggs or something.’ She shakes her head. ‘You can carry three cups over, can’t you? My legs are dying for a rest.’ She takes off before I even have a chance to answer.
‘Here, three cups of steaming hot coffee, with Mama’s secret recipe.’ A few moments later, I arrive back at the table where Magda and Annette are now both sitting. I struggle to put the mugs down on the table, which I notice has dried egg yolk hardening on its surface.
‘Yeah, she’s a star is Mama,’ says Annette, taking one of the chipped mugs and wrapping both hands around it. ‘We went to school together actually, were best friends once upon a time.’
I shake my head, confused as to the absurdity of the day. If I wasn’t mental when it began I’m sure as shit going to be by the time it ends.
‘Actually, Lou…’ Magda hesitates, flicking her eyes briefly over to Annette. ‘I think I best go. The girl from the pharmacy just rang while you two were waiting for the coffees. Apparently Helen’s been loitering around outside.’
‘Dawn rang you?’ asks Annette, her tone brusque. ‘She shouldn’t be calling you, especially not while working.’
‘No, it’s all right,’ says Magda quickly. ‘I know her, we attend yoga together.’
‘Well, even so. Having said that, I’m not surprised your sister’s hankering for those meds, Magda. Strong stuff she’s on, used only in extreme cases of depression but highly addictive.’
Magda looks down into her coffee cup. ‘I know. But unfortunately her case is extreme.’ She wipes at her eyes as if tears may be forming. ‘Look, I think Ron might have asked Dawn to call me. She seemed a little vague about it all, just said I should maybe head home.’
‘Ron wouldn’t have told her to do that, he doesn’t even know your sister.’
‘Well, I don’t know then. But don’t say anything to him, Net. Dawn was only doing what she thought best. Helen’s been so poorly lately. I’m so worried about her, she just cries all the time.’
‘Well, Christmas Day’s going to be a barrel of laughs then, isn’t it?’ says Annette, causing Magda’s eyes to well up further. ‘Fine, I’ll not mention it,’ she continues after a moment’s pause. ‘But that Dawn’s one cat-cow stretch away from the job centre as it is. My poor Ron doesn’t know where to put his eyes half the time, the poor lamb.’