The Unexpected Visitor

"Hell, was that a girl friend?" Rowena asked with a note of admiration in her voice; "You really told her George. You're so nice I didn't think you had it in you."

"It wasn't a girlfriend it was my sister, and if you're going to get the meal ready you'd better get on with it."

"Right, George," she said.

She disappeared into the kitchen leaving me wondering what frightful concoction she would come up with. I went off to wash my hands.

Returning to the living area I saw a cloth had been laid on the table and the knives and forks placed meticulously. This girl really had me mystified.

Shortly Rowena emerged from the kitchen carrying two plates.

"There you are," she said, beaming at me.

"But that's what I was cooking last night!"

"That's right, how clever of you to notice. I thought since I deprived you of it last night I'd better come up with it again tonight."

I'd noticed something else as well; since I'd arrived home she hadn't used a single piece of foul language. I decided not to comment on this since it might get her going again, but I did say, "The food looks good."

"Then stop staring at it and eat," she admonished.

I ate, and it was good. Certainly it was better than my cooking would have produced.

"Like it?" she asked. I thought I detected a slight note of apprehension in her voice.

"Yes, it's excellent."

She gave a sigh that sounded like relief.

"I can do just as well with other recipes," she said.

Utterly at a loss to know where I was going in this situation I simply grunted, "Good."

What the hell was I going to do with this girl? Since Brenda had left me I had renounced all but the most necessary contact with women. The only female I spoke with at any length was Phoebe who seemed only too happy to pass negative judgment on her gender. I didn't want a female in my flat, and certainly not a street slag like Rowena, but want her or not, I seemed to have got her.

I contemplated removing her by main force or call the police, but how do you manhandle or have the police bundle out a girl who has just cooked your meal and is next door to giving birth?

I thought I would attempt verbal persuasion again, but before I could get a word out she said, "If you would like to tell me what you'd like to eat tomorrow evening and let me know what time to expect you home, I can have it ready for you when you arrive."

Not for the first time she had taken the wind out of my sails. What on earth could I say to this girl to get rid of her without feeling like a rat?

With that question buzzing in my head, another thought insinuated itself.

"Do you want to get rid of her, George?"

Then began one of those arguments we often have with ourselves:

"Of course I want to get rid of her."

"But didn't you think about the emptiness of the place on your way home?"

"Yes...but that doesn't mean I want a female around the place."

"What do you want to do, throw her out onto the streets with her shortly to give birth?"

"I could give her some money to go away; sixty...no...eighty dollars..."

"Will that solve her problems, George, or yours for that matter?"

"I don't have any problem except getting rid of her."

"Are you sure you don't have a problem George?"

I ignored that question.

"Anyway, how do I to cope with a pregnant woman? Suppose she gives birth in the flat?"

"Might be a challenge for you; get you away from your own problems."

"I said I don't have any problems."

"Go on then he-man, throw her out..."

"George, I as wondering, would your rather I slept on the settee and you have the bed?"

Rowena had cut across my self contemplation impudently taking it for granted that she was staying. Once more I surrendered.

"No, no, I can manage on the settee. In your condition you need the bed, it's more comfortable."

I looked across at her and saw her chin trembling. I thought she was trying not to laugh at me, but then she asked; "Why are you so nice to me, George?"

My God, the wiles of the female; how did you chuck out a girl who has just asked you a question like that?

Trying to assert myself a trifle I said, "I'm not being nice to you Rowena, I'm simply tolerating you because of your condition. If it's not me it will have to be someone else, and since you seem to have been landed on my doorstep, I suppose I shall have to put up with you."

Having said that I withered inside; what a dreadful thing to say to another human being, especially one who has been trying to be helpful, even if for self-seeking ends? I felt utterly remorseful and guilty.

Rowena heaped coals of fire on my head when she said, "Thank you, George, I knew you wouldn't throw me out."

It was my turn to start swearing, but I did it silently.

"Bloody crafty conniving woman; she'd somehow known I'd be a soft target. I should kick the little bitch out right now before she takes over my life completely."

"If you don't mind, George, I'll just do the washing up and then make an early night of it. It's a bit tiring carrying the ever present one around all the time."

I looked across the table at her. She seemed very weary. When she had arrived the previous evening she had appeared full of violent energy, now it was as if she had relaxed, or rather, given in to the burdens she carried. It was rather like those people who when involved in some natural or manmade disaster, are sustained for the duration of the blow, but afterwards break down.

"I'll do the washing up," I said a trifle gruffly, "you get off to bed."

"That's very thoughtful of you George, but I can..."

"Go to bed," I said a bit more snappily than I intended.

She smiled and stood up. I noticed for the first time what she was wearing. It was a faded cotton dress, stretched tight across her abdomen to breaking point, and dragged up the front of her legs to half way up her thighs.

She looked pitiful and poverty stricken and my heart suddenly seemed to swell up in my chest and I wanted to cry for her.

There are all the waifs and strays, all the starving homeless human dross, unnoticed, uncared for, blamed for their plight by those more fortunate. All around us there are such people. I had always felt overwhelmed by the amount of human misery in our world, and had buried myself away from it. Now here was just one of the millions about whom I could do something.

It was in that moment I made my silent resolve. "I shall see this through. She may be a crafty bitch just using me...exploiting me...but I don't care. I shall stick with her until I know that she and her child are safe, and I don't care how long it takes."

Gently I said, "Sleep well, Rowena."

She smiled at me and replied, "You too, George."

I set about the washing up while Rowena showered. She did not appear before me naked that night.

As if her words, "You too, George," had been a sort of benediction upon me, I did sleep well that night.

Next day I seemed to have stepped into a new life. From the pointless driving from an empty flat to work and from work back to an empty flat, I found that my life had taken on meaning. I had a reason to work and a reason to go home. I had purpose...responsibility...there was someone depending on me...two people depending on me.

Rowena, like some bird making a nest before laying its eggs, had set about making changes in the flat. She'd moved furniture, rearranged ornaments and pictures and despite her condition scrubbed the place till it shone.

I suppose I might have been angry at this further invasion of my space, but I found it touching and a trifle humorous. In the mornings she got my breakfast and fussed over and brushed my suit before I went to work. She even took to giving me a peck on the cheek as I left for work and arrived home.

On the eighth night of her stay in my flat I was woken by a yell followed by groans. I raced into the bedroom to find Rowena gasping with pain.

"George its coming...its coming...my water's broken."

From the time I agreed to Rowena staying in my flat I had know this would happen, but when it did I felt a wave of panic.

"Can...can you walk?" I asked tremulously.

"I think so, she said...just a minute." She gave another groan and with my aid managed to sit up, then got on to her feet.

"If you can get down the stairs I can drive you to the City Hospital."

There was no more talk about dropping it behind a bush and getting straight back to work. I did not even bother to change from my night clothes. I simply put on my dressing gown and with Rowena leaning on me managed to get her to the car.

I drove to the hospital emergency entrance and with Rowena once more leaning on me began to take her inside. We were spotted by an orderly who raced out with a wheel chair and in no time we were on our way to the labour ward.

In a flash the hospital bureaucracy was upon us with forms to be filled out. Rowena having told them her name, I first found myself being addressed as Mr. Talbot. I corrected this by pointing out my name is Porter. This set the form purveyor in a buzz.

"Are you a relative?"

"No."

"Then what...er..."

"She lives with me."

"Oh...I see. Then you are the father of the..."

"No."

"Then who is the father...he should be informed."

"I don't know who the father is."

The official turned to Rowena who was in the middle of a mighty "Ow."

"Who is the father of the child, Ms. Talbot? We'll let him know you're in labour."

"Ow...I don't know."

"Ah...well..."

As if needing someone to pounce on to compensate for the lack of answers to vitally unimportant questions she said to me sternly. "Since you are not the father and not a relative, I must ask you to leave, Mr. Porter."

"Ow, he's not bloody leaving," yelled Rowena, swearing for the first time in days.

"I'm afraid he'll have..."

"I said he's not bloody leaving," howled Rowena with even greater volume than before.

"But hospital regulations..."

"Ow... stuff your regulations he stays or I'll sue for wrongful arrest or assault or something"; then looking at me anxiously she asked, "You will stay, won't you George?"

"If you want me to," I replied.

"Of course I bloody want you to, your all I've got in the world. You wouldn't leave me with a lot of...ow...strangers, would you?"

"Well since your presence seems so important to Ms. Talbot, I suppose we can stretch a point," grumbled the official. She departed with her partially completed forms.

A more empathetic nurse replaced the paper work official and shortly after a doctor appeared. There was a brief conference the substance of which passed over my head, but the upshot was, "Probably in the next hour or two."

I sat by the bed holding Rowena's hand as her "Ow's" increased in frequency and intensity.

I had not anticipated being present at the birth, and felt a bit squeamish at the thought of what I was about to see. When the time came all doubt left me.

I witnessed the miracle of birth. A new life entering upon the world to face whatever might come, to be what it might grow to be. I wanted to laugh and cry, to kiss and hold Rowena, the one who had been the bearer and would now be the preserver of that life for years to come.

"It's a girl," the nurse announced.

The child emerged around eight o'clock in the morning, so at nine I went to a telephone and rang the office, telling them I would not be at work as a family crisis had arisen. I should have liked to tell them of the true circumstances I felt so elated, but knew it better not to.

When I returned to Rowena another wonder awaited me; she was breast feeding the child. I felt like I wanted to cry again, but restrained myself.

"She's beautiful, isn't she George?"

I looked at the somewhat crumpled scrap of life and decided that wisdom dictated I agree. "Yes, Rowena, she's really beautiful."

I wanted to add something about the beauty of seeing her breastfeeding but felt too shy to give voice to my thoughts.

About ten o'clock Rowena, in her authoritative manner, released me from my vigil to return to the flat so that I could shower and change and have something to eat. In a less commanding manner she asked, "You will come back, won't you George?"

"Yes, I'll come back," I replied.

Returning to the flat I got myself in order and then began to have disturbing thoughts.

"A baby! What do you do with a baby?"

I remembered hearing how potential parents got things ready weeks, even month, in advance. Preparing a nursery, buying cots, prams and all sorts of things; there was no chance of a nursery but what about the other things? I realised that I had no idea what to do.

In the ground floor flat lived a widow, Mrs. Gordon, around seventy years of age. I knew she had children because I had seen them visiting her. I resorted to Mrs. Gordon for aid.

She knew about Rowena stopping in my flat and could hardly have missed her pregnant condition on the odd occasions Rowena had left the flats at the same time as Mrs. Gordon.

When I explained my dilemma to Mrs. Gordon she gave me that, "Oh you men" look and said; "Look George, if you like I'll go out shopping with you and we can get what you need. There's a bit of time yet, so let's make it tomorrow morning, all right?"

I thanked her profusely and set off for the hospital, stopping on the way to buy a bunch of flowers. The florist asked me if they were for a special occasion so I simply told her it was for a birth. She made the same mistake the hospital official had made and assumed I was the father.

I didn't bother to correct her as no official documentation was involved. I ended up with a bunch of red roses and was naïve enough not to know the significance of such a floral gift.

When I came to Rowena I proffered the flowers and she burst into tears and extended her arms to me.

"George, oh George, what a lovely thing to do, I didn't realise."

I thought I was just doing something nice and was taken aback by the fervour with which the offering was received.

She held on to me for a long time and despite my past misogyny I confess I liked it. She was very soft and warm and if I hadn't been in such an awkward position bending over the bed I would have lingered in the embrace for much longer than I did, but my back began to ache.

I sat and held her hand while she prattled on about the wonders of her new infant and I missed the point at first when she asked, "What shall we call her?" It was the "we" that didn't connect at the time.

After much name consideration I came up with Juliet and Rowena was delighted; so Juliet it was.

I did not tell Rowena about my shopping arrangements with Mrs. Gordon, leaving it as a surprise when she brought Juliet back to the flat.

As I went to leave Rowena she again extended her arms to me and kissed me on the lips saying, "I do love you George; you know that, don't you?"

I enjoyed the kiss so much that in my emotional confusion I simply said, "Yes, I know that."

I left a flushed and glowing Rowena sitting up in the bed.

I may have wanted to surprise Rowena with the things I was to get for Juliet, but I was due for a surprise myself.

Mrs. Gordon took me first to a baby department in a big store.

"You won't need a cot first up," she said, "a bassinet will do nicely until the baby is a bit bigger. You might need a carry cot...one of those safety ones to use in the car. You won't need a pram for a while but if you want to buy one now..."

We did "buy one now," along with cot covers, baby clothes and nappies.

In the toy department a rattle was purchased and Mrs. Gordon made the point that all children loved teddy bears, so why not get one now for later?

We went on to buy a bewildering array of powders and lotions the purpose of which failed to register with me.

We seemed to emerge with a mountain of goods; in fact a member of the staff had to help us cram it into the car. I found myself with a severely depleted bank balance.

Mrs. Gordon came up to my flat to help me arrange things commenting, "George, this isn't really a good place to bring up a little one."

Now it did register. Something went "Zap" in my head and my bowels churned.

"My God, what have I done? I've set the place up as if..."

"What shall we call her?" "We"!

"I do love you George; you know that, don't you?"

"I'm trapped. That crafty female has snared me like a rabbit, and gullible me fell for it like a simple idiot. Oh my God."

"Well that's going to change George. She's not playing you like a fish on the end of a line. She can come back here but as soon as she's fit I'll find another place for her to live. There must be hostels and places for girls like her."

It was time for my hospital visit so I steeled myself not to be too nice to her.

Oh, how our resolves melt before the very source of their making! We make New Year resolutions and in no time they melt away as we succumb to the very things we resolved to do or not to do.

When I came to Rowena she was breast feeding again seated in a chair.

"She must have known when I was coming," my weary brain moaned. "She knew that I would be overcome by the sight of her with the baby. Is not determined woman the most devious of all creatures?"

She held the baby to her with one arm and extended the other to me. I fell for it yet again. I knelt down to receive her embrace and she drew me close to her, so close in fact that my head was resting on her free breast. I could smell the sweet fragrance of her milk.

"They're letting me come home tomorrow, George," she said.

"So soon?" I queried, a little quiver of panic shimmering through me.

She laughed; "It's not like the old days, George. I'm not sick, I've just had a baby, that's all."

I could not resist a quip. "You won't be going straight back to the fields to work, will you?"

She gave my head a playful tap. "No, I shall take it easy for a while, and when I'm properly recovered we'll be all right."

I wasn't sure what "all right" meant but didn't pursue it. Instead I went on to a practical matter.

"After tomorrow I shall have to get back to work, will you be all right alone in the flat?"

"Of course I shall, silly man; I told you I'm not sick, I just need a bit of time for things to settle down, if you see what I mean."

I thought I saw; after all, I had seen her poor vagina being stretched as Juliet came out.

I arranged to pick her and Juliet up at ten o'clock the next morning and made my way home.

Since Rowena had gone into the hospital I had returned to my old bed. I had not slept very well. The bed was redolent of Rowena; not anything unpleasant and perhaps it was in my imagination since all the bedclothes had been changed. It was just a sense of her female fragrance lingering and I could almost feel her presence.

I made an arrangement with Mrs. Gordon who would, as she put it, "Pop up and see the poor thing while you're at work, to see she's all right."

At the due time I picked up my charges, having brought in some items of baby's wear nominated by Mrs. Gordon as being needed.

Rowena was thrilled when she saw what I had bought. "Oh George, you're so kind; these things must have cost a fortune; Isn't he kind to us, darling?" she asked the somnolent Juliet.

Rowena's delight at the clothing I had taken in to the hospital was as nothing to the excitement when she saw the rest of the things I had bought.

"Oh George, George, what a wonderful thing to do; I had no idea...Oh, you're a darling."

Poor Juliet was almost crushed between us as Rowena embraced and kissed me.

I disengaged myself from Rowena's enthusiastic clutches and pointed out that Mrs. Gordon had been my guide and mentor in making the purchases.

Rowena was all for going straight down to show her the baby and thank her for her help. Like an anxious husband I protested that Rowena must rest, and Mrs. Gordon would be coming up the next day to see her.