Where There's Smoke

The technician peeled off the condom from the probe and dropped it into a bin with her gloves. She wheeled away the scanner. “You can sit up again, if you like. Dr Janson’ll be along in a few minutes.”

She went out. The piped classical music drifted on in the background without relieving the loneliness of the empty white room. Kate swung her legs off the couch. The sheet of tissue paper covering it slid around slightly on the underlying vinyl. She looked down at her feet as they dangled above the ground, ridiculous in the elasticated paper slippers. She wondered if she would have had to wear them at a less expensive clinic.

The door opened and Dr Janson walked in. The nurse followed her. Dr Janson’s grey-blonde hair was pinned up in a thick French pleat, immaculate as ever. Her white lab coat seemed incongruous over the elegant clothes she wore underneath.

“Hello,” she greeted Kate, brightly. “Everything all right?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Good. Well, you’ll be glad to know that the timing’s fine. You’re about to ovulate, so we can go ahead with the first treatment as planned.”

Dr Janson smiled. She was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. She looked like a model from an optician’s catalogue, Kate thought.

“Nervous?” the doctor asked. Kate nodded. “There’s no need to be. You won’t be able to feel very much, and it doesn’t take very long. Just try to relax. Now, if you can lie back on the couch...”

Kate lowered herself down again, positioning her legs as before. She could feel the knots of her gown digging into her bare back where they pressed against the mattress. She clenched her hands together by her sides.

There was a snap of surgical gloves. Glancing down, Kate saw the nurse sliding a small orange plastic straw into the stainless-steel tube. She gave it to the doctor, who turned back towards the couch. A speculum was in her other hand.

“Can you raise your legs a little more, please? That’s it.”

Kate stared resolutely at the featureless ceiling. She tried to breathe slowly and steadily, but she still tensed as she felt the first touch. The metal of the speculum had been thoughtfully warmed, and there was no real discomfort. It was no different from having a smear. Even so, the knuckles of her clenched hands were white. Her heart thudded and raced.

She concentrated on the piped music. It was familiar. She had a version herself on CD. Vivaldi. The Four Seasons — Le Quattro Stagione. She tried to remember which movement it was. “Spring”? Or “Winter”?

At the end of the couch, Dr Janson straightened. “Right. There we go.”

Kate lifted her head to see the nurse step forward, holding out a stainless-steel tray. Dr Janson put the inseminator and speculum into it and smiled down at Kate. “How do you feel? All right?”

Kate nodded. “Good. Just lie still for a few minutes, and then you can get dressed and go home.”

“So I can carry on as normal?”

“Completely as normal. I’ll see you tomorrow for the second insemination, and then that’s it for this cycle. It’s just a matter now of keeping your fingers crossed and waiting to see if you have a period or not. If you do, then we’ll try again next month.”

She gave Kate another smile. “The nurse will bring you a cup of tea or coffee, so just relax for a few minutes. There’s no rush.”

She left. The nurse asked Kate what she wanted to drink and then left also, carrying the tray containing the instruments and the doctor’s latex gloves, crumpled on the gleaming metal like a beached jellyfish.

Kate lay back on the couch. I’ve done it now. The thought was a silent, exultant cry, setting her down on the other side of a barrier from the fears and uncertainties of a pre-insemination existence. She felt drunk on the knowledge that she was irrevocably committed. Even if she didn’t become pregnant this cycle, there was always the next. Or the one after that. She had finally made the leap. Now it was simply a matter of continuing.

The nurse returned, carrying a china cup and saucer and a plate of biscuits. “Another five minutes and you can get dressed,” she said. Kate pushed herself upright as the woman set the tea and biscuits on the table at the bottom of the couch. She turned to go, but then bent and picked up something from the floor. “Is this yours?”

She held out the gold chain and locket Alex had bought Kate for Christmas. Kate’s hand went to her throat. “I must have caught it when I was getting changed. Thanks.”

Though the chain was light, Kate felt a heaviness at its cold touch as she fastened it back around her neck. Subdued music, played on unfamiliar stringed instruments, was playing in the Thai restaurant. The dining room was dark, but each table was lit by two fat candles so that walking down the aisles between them was like being in a temple. The air smelled of burning candle wax, lemon and garlic.