Tuesday, 29 January 2013

Two by ten flashes



The agony and the ecstasy - wasn’t that some film title?  Or book? - whatever, it just about summed up this place on a Wednesday afternoon.
Baby clinic.
Barbaric really - all infants being stripped off down both sides of on one long table and taking it in turns to be placed in the scales, under the beady eye of Sister Weston - called herself Sister but who knows what she really was, when she’d just sort of insinuated herself a few months before the war ended, when everyone was too tired to care very much about anything.  
And when the very existence of babies was a cause for suspicion, and counting back and trying to work out when hubby had last been on leave.   And there’d been more than enough coffee-coloured babies for it not to be a shock any more.   Cause for gossip, yes but shock - no.
Anyway, the agony, if your baby hadn’t put on weight, the ecstasy if it had, never mind if it was looking a right ugly little bruiser.
Every bloody fortnight.


The day wasn't supposed to go like this, let’s face it my whole bloody life wasn’t supposed to go like this but some things just seem out of your control.   And it’s no good doing the ‘if only’ stuff because you can apply that to almost every day of your life and believe that things could’ve been different – and yes, they could – but the point was now, where you were now that mattered, that was real.   The you had to get on and deal with.
So.  Here we were again at the bloody baby clinic.   Here I was sandwiched between two women, one of whose husbands claimed flat feet and the other was a pen pusher in some government department so neither of them had been anywhere near any fighting.   Their babies were of the bruiser variety too – well fed, because it certainly wasn’t their genes.   And me in the middle with my skinny little cocoa-coloured Leon.   No ring on my finger and his father ... well, I told everyone he was dead, but the truth is I only ever saw him in the dark (and he wasn’t that easy to see then!).   And now, like the Sea of Galilee, every woman in the place was moving away from me as Sister Weston bore down on me, with the vicar’s wife in tow.   Jesus.

Prompts from Thinking Ten
On Location (Monday) a health clinic 
Take It Away (Tuesday) The day wasn't supposed......





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