Nomance, T Price [bookreader .TXT] 📗

Carla went out backinto the large and chilly livingroom where she found Gwynne playingon his Gameboy. He had it up on full volume.

‘Don’t get playing thatthing in the shop,’ Carla yelled. ‘You’ll frighten the customers!’Gwynne paused the programme, but continued to glare down at themachine. She added, ‘Mrs Wanless hates loud noises. She almost diedwhen that shelf fell down.’

‘Yeah?’ Gwynne lookedup with interest.

‘Just help Kitty out,will you? You know how she loses track.’

Carla’s voice lost allits harshness when she recalled how stupid Kitty was. There wassomething so comforting about it. Her own policy for hiring staffwas to avoid anyone with qualifications. The ones with certificatescould never do the job at all, which made them far worse than thosewithout any certificates, who were merely incompetent. And apartfrom not being able to do the job, those with qualifications alwayssuckered some other employer into taking them on and left her inthe lurch. Carla could sleep at night knowing Kitty wasn’t going toget another job in a million years. That made having to repeat thesame instructions every day, like it was for the very first time,so much easier to bear. Then too, once she was set in motion, Kittywas a methodical beast. Carla believed the shop could burn downaround her and she would carry on spraying the spider plants. Yes,she would stick at it regardless till the firemen came to haul heraway. Two at each end.

‘Turn it off!’ Carlayelled.

Gwynne had begunplaying his Gameboy again and the room was filled by the groans ofalien warriors dying in battle.

‘It’s all right now,’Gwynne assured her, sounding as cheerful as he ever did. ‘TheNeckroids have won.’ He beamed down at the screen and its frozenpicture.

Carla waited, knowingher presence would soon become too annoying to ignore. And so, soonenough, Gwynne gave her his attention – as much as he could muster– and Carla explained what had to be done in the shop today and howhe must slow down when he spoke to Kitty and not expect her toremember anything he had ever told her before. If Kitty was to dosomething again, then he must explain it again.

Gwynne frowned at her.‘Why do you have to go to the doctor?’

For a second Carlaconsidered telling him and perhaps obtaining a little sympathy forwhat she was trying to do for them. But then she changed her mind –Gwynne’s sympathy would not be worth the effort.

Four: Stepping on the Scales of a ColdFish

As the receptionistguided Carla into the surgery, Gerald stepped from round frombehind his desk and shook hands with her.

‘Hello again,’ he saidwith a crisp informality. His tan, she noted, looked like it hadbeen topped up since they had last met. ‘Please.’ He indicated thatshe should sit next to him in one of the two patients’ chairs.There was a large file on his desk and pointing to this, he said,‘Those are the case notes of the couple you may be able tohelp.’

‘I don’t have to readany of that, do I?’

‘Good heavens, no. Ihappened to be reading them before you arrived.’ He leaned over andopened the file, from which he took a form, blank except for twonames and an address. ‘These are the prospective parents, though.If we go ahead, you can meet them any time you like. Juliet andPhilip Westhrop,’ he read, ‘of Ladbroke Grove.’

‘No thanks.’

‘Oh? Well, yes, somepeople prefer to maintain a distance, for emotional reasons.’

‘That’s right,’ Carlasaid drily. These Westhrops sounded just like the snooty types whobought flowers from Romance. Not a lot of flowers, mind,just enough to keep her hanging by her fingertips from the povertyline. And while she hung from the poverty line, she flapped around,didn’t she? Like an old, sorry, wet blanket at the mercy of the icygusts of economic decline . . . suddenly, Gerald’s smooth,plausible voice interrupted her bulletin-sized reverie.‘Pardon?’

‘I said, Carla, that Iimagine you’d like to hear about the standard arrangements.’

‘Yes, all rightthen.’

Gerald went on to giveher a outline of the service he offered to both parents andsurrogates, and what was expected of her if she got involved. Whatmust have been five long minutes later, he concluded, ‘Well then, Ithink I have told you everything you need to know.’

Carla was quick todisagree. ‘I’ve been here fifteen minutes and you haven’t told meanything.’

Gerald looked baffledfor a second. ‘Oh, of course, I forgot! How could I? Yes, the feewill be five thousand pounds.’

‘Five thousand!’

Gerald sympathised.‘I’m every bit as disappointed about this as you are, Carla. Yes, Ido think nine months of backbreaking work deserves so much morethan five thousand pounds. Especially if you consider a plumber,for instance, will earn as much in three months just for drainingboilers and tightening nuts. And here you are, bestowing the giftof life. Still, the fact is, people nowadays are far more willingto shell out on a properly flushing loo than the gift of life. Itdoesn’t seem right, does it? What can I say? That’s the open marketfor you. As I explained over the phone, the full ten thousand wasalready looking optimistic. But what’s happened since then is thatanother surrogate has come along and offered to bear the child forsix.’

‘Oh, for crying outloud!’

‘I couldn’t have put itany better myself. You see, I’m in a sort of halfway house here andI understand how both sides feel. If you look at it the way I haveto sometimes, from the point of view of the prospective parents,you can see that for them it’s like any large investment. Likebuying a new car, for example. If they hear they can get the samemodel, a Ford Escort maybe, for a thousand less, what are theygoing to do? They are going to buy at a thousand less, aren’t they?Be fair now.’

‘Why should I alwayshave to be fair when the system isn’t fair?’

‘Very good question.The best answer I can give is that if you accept the five thousand,then I promise I shan’t go back to surrogate number one. I shan’tpreside over a Dutch auction.’

‘Oh, I bet they’d lovea Dutch auction.’

‘I take ten per cent,of course.’

‘What the hell for?’Carla cried.

‘As your