Natural Selection

John arrived at his destination, parked the car and delayed the inevitable by checking whether there really was free parking on Sunday. After finding the parking notice, he headed for the concrete steps leading to the row of maisonettes. As John climbed them, he passed a short, white-haired man going in the other direction, and the two men exchanged a nod. John walked along the covered way, reached the door, took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell.

It felt like a long wait. Finally, he heard shuffling from behind the front door and it opened. John stared at the small figure before him.

Natalia was dressed in pyjamas, thermal socks and her white towelling bathrobe. Her face was pale, she had grey rings under her bloodshot eyes and her nostrils were red and raw. Through lank black hair, her dark eyes looked up at John, and there was a hint of accusation in them.

'I got your flu,' she said.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the kitchen, John made a hot lemon and honey drink, while Natalia sat on the sofa, wrapped up in the orange fleece blanket. He brought her the drink, then sat on the same spot she had taken when he had been the sick one. He sat facing her, his head turned to the window, waiting for her to tell him her news in her own time.

Natalia had felt the hot throat on Monday, but she thought it would pass. On Tuesday, she woke up so ill that she barely had the energy to call in sick at work. In the afternoon, she managed to call a friend to do some shopping, but other than that she stayed in bed. Then, in the middle of that night, Natalia awoke with terrible stomach cramps. She staggered into the bathroom and passed so much blood that she nearly fainted while sitting on the toilet.

'I thought I was going to die,' she said. 'There was so much pain! What's the English word again?'

'Miscarriage,' said John quietly.

'Ah. Like "miscarriage of justice"?'

'Yes.'

Natalia nodded in approval and went on with her story. She didn't die, obviously. On Friday, she was able to go to the doctor who confirmed that she was indeed no longer pregnant. He also told her that what had happened was quite common. The first weeks after conception were a delicate period, especially for a first-time pregnancy. If a woman got sick, it was not unusual for her body to end gestation in order to fight the infection.

'So much for my anti-bodies,' said Natalia.

John said nothing. Part of his brain was formulating a heartfelt apology, but another part was telling him to keep his mouth shut and let the woman finish talking.

'My father is here,' said Natalia. 'He came all the way from Romania.'

John looked around in alarm and Natalia laughed.

'I sent him out just before you came,' she said. 'But he's been here since Thursday, looking after me. He's now hopefully in a pub having a drink, and he'll stay there until I call. He accepts that this is between you and me.'

'He doesn't want to kill me?'

'No!' Natalia looked genuinely shocked. 'Why would he do that?'

'Because I got his daughter pregnant? Because I made her sick enough to lose the baby? Because I put her through this?'

John waved a hand at the general sick person in front of him.

'John, I told you to come!' said Natalia. 'And it's not like you didn't warn me!'

'And getting you pregnant?'

'Well...'

Natalia frowned into her mug, considering her answer.

'Look, I'm not going to say I wanted to get pregnant,' she said. 'But I definitely didn't want "safe sex". What the fuck is that anyway? "Safe Sex"! The whole point of sex is that it's life-changing and important! But because we've invented clever ways to stop pregnancy, we've turned it into a kind of hobby! Don't you think?'

John swallowed, feeling it selfish to agree.

'I don't know,' he said.

'You don't know?' said Natalia. 'Or you do know, and you don't want to say?'

John laughed sadly. Natalia gave him a bleary smile. John saw her smile and began to cry.

'I can't believe you're being so nice to me!' he blurted out. 'Why aren't you shouting and screaming at me?'

'Because you haven't done anything wrong.'

'What are you talking about? I fucked you! I fucked you knowing I wasn't in love with you! I finished inside you because I wanted to, and I honestly didn't give a damn! Well, maybe about myself! And as for you losing the baby, well ... although I'm genuinely, genuinely sorry for the suffering you've gone through, the greater part of me is relieved to be off the hook. I'm just ... plain ... relieved!'

John threw up his hands in a gesture. There it is! He stared at the coffee table for a long time, waiting for Natalia's response. But she stayed quiet and, eventually, he looked at her. Tears had spilled from her eyes, but there was no animosity in her gaze. Not the tiniest bit.

'John,' she said softly. 'Do you think I didn't know? Do you think I'm surprised by anything you've just said? Do you think there's not a part of me who is also relieved?'

'I honestly don't know,' said John.

He stared at the orange fleece blanket, as though fighting the urge to express his almost total mistrust of anything a woman might say. Natalia frowned. She put the mug on the nearby coffee table, lay back on the cushions and gazed up at the ceiling.

'On Monday, when I found out I was pregnant,' she said, 'the first thing I did was to call my father in Romania. I did it, not for sentimental reasons, but because I knew I'd need his help. But I was very nervous. My father can be old-fashioned, and he has strong opinions about things. I thought he would be angry and disappointed with me. I mean, his little girl getting herself pregnant by some guy on a second date? What was I playing at? But John ... he was so happy! He kept saying how he wished my mother were still here. I asked if he was ashamed of me and he said, "Of course not! This is the best thing that could have happened to you!" He booked a plane ticket as soon as he got off the phone.'

Natalia stretched out her legs. John edged back as her feet inched towards him, although his attention never wavered.

'Well, it made me think,' said Natalia, almost to herself. 'About my life. About what I'm doing. It suddenly hit me that, since Alistair's death, I've been living the same life my father had: Get up, go to work, come home, pay the bills. Except my father was supporting a family. I'm just supporting myself. And it's not like I hate it; I certainly don't hate my life. But I don't love it either. It's just kind of ... nothing.'

She looked at John.

'But you and me, Johnny-John,' she said. 'This is a Something. I mean, this is only the fourth time we've ever met and look how much has happened! Don't you find that amazing?'

'It is pretty mind-blowing,' John said.

'Isn't it? And I suppose we could have been more sensible and responsible and all that, but I've been doing that for years and all I got out of it was nothing. And I'm not saying that being reckless works either, but at least it's something. It's Life! Do you know what I mean?'

John frowned, as though thinking seriously about what she said.

Then he nodded, as though in profound agreement.

Natalia smiled and held out both her hands. John took them, and the two sat holding hands in silence. He still hadn't made his heartfelt apology, but something told him not to. Natalia didn't need his apology. Just him being present in this moment was enough. John's mind brought up more questions: Did he resemble her dead husband? Had she lied about her ovary condition? Why didn't she phone him about the miscarriage instead of making him wait until now?

John let them all go. Soon, he would be walking out of this maisonette, down the concrete steps and back to his car. He would drive home and, after an email or two, that would be the end of his story with Natalia. He looked at the woman, at her home, at the life that might have been. Finally, his gaze landed on Natalia's painting of a girl in a torn blue dress and he noticed something for the first time.

The girl had red hair.