S T Vasectomy Clinic - 7

'Is everything okay?'

 

‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘I just had a…..dream that’s all.’

 

‘By the way Solo has been sick in the night, there’s bright yellow bile on the kitchen floor.’

 

‘Oh, Is he alright?’

 

‘Yes, he seems fine. It could be because I gave him a spoonful of turmeric yesterday when I was preparing our Chana Masala.’

 

‘What did you give him that for?’

 

‘For his joints Alistair, it’s good for his joints. I put a load in your curry too, you’ve got to keep supple.’

 

‘Supple for what?’

 

‘Fixing the loose tiles in my turrets.’

 

Alistair was trying to halt time now. There was only one day until his medical consultation. He seemed to alternate between positive thoughts about being a good man, a supportive husband, standing by his wife by undergoing, what was supposedly a very commonplace procedure. On the other hand, he was absolutely dreading it, feeling that it was the end of his potent life and perhaps he should just walk away from his marriage and be free while he was still fit. Maybe he could even find a young woman who would appreciate the fact that he was still fertile.

 

Two things happened when he tried to stop time, one was that it always went by faster, the hours passing by in great leaps. The other thing was constipation. Every cell in his physical body was dreading that appointment, the discussions and inspections, the questions and probing. As a result peristalsis had come to a halt; the waste products inside his body became hard and tense as they approached the broken escalator of his intestines. His stomach quickly became hard and distended. Not even chickpeas could ease the blockage. 

 

It crossed his mind that he could feign some sort of illness to evade the appointment, a stomach ache seemed like the only option since he didn’t get headaches, a back bad would be hard to fake as would anything involving the expunging of body fluids. The problem was Lynne was so damn sharp, she could spot a lie before it was even said. There was something about the body language which spooked her and primed her for untruths, she’d done it many times with their sons. They had quickly learned that lying to their mother always involved a u-turn, a sickening handbrake turn, it was a non-starter. 

 

By the time Wednesday afternoon arrived he was feeling physically heavy and sluggish as well as being in a state of numb resignation. He huffed and puffed while he went about his work, rushing, as he always did when he was stressed. Gareth picked up on it and gave him a questioning look. ‘You alright mate?’

 

‘Yes, yes. I’m going to Squeezy Tubes Vasectomy Clinic tonight,’ he blurted out but Gareth just continued to frown at him. ‘You know, about my procedure. I’m having a consultation.’

 

‘Oh,’ Gareth nodded, ‘yes, you did say.’ 

 

It annoyed Alistair that Gareth gave him nothing, no reassuring good luck wishes or promise that all would be okay, that was what he needed to hear, especially from another man but Gareth just carried on with his work in silence.

 

He drove home in a grumpy mood. Various options ran through his mind in regard to the sort of questions he might be asked, perhaps they would ask him how many times a week he had sex, well the answer to that was nil. Maybe they would ask him whether he wanted more children, the answer to that was also nil, he wasn’t sure if he’d wanted the first two but it had seemed thoroughly out of his control. The thing that worried him most was the possibility of an examination, he pictured a doctor with a torch scrutinising his sexual instrument and he shuddered.

 

Now he was in a serious mood, feeling detached and just keen to get it over and done with. He pulled onto the driveway, marched up to the front door. ‘Are you ready Lynne?’ he called out, ‘Should I have a shower?’

 

There was no answer but Alistair could hear his wife moving around upstairs. He petted Solo on top of the head and went up to the bedroom where he found Lynne in her grey towelling dressing gown, sitting with her back to him. ‘Lynne? Come on, if we’re going to this…..clinic.’

 

She turned around very slowly and Alistair’s eyes widened as he caught sight of her face. ‘Sorry Alistair I don’t think I can join you after all.’

 

‘Have you been on a sunbed?’

 

‘No, I had a chemical peel.’

 

‘A what?’

 

‘A….sort of facial. I wanted to look nice but I just look red and overcooked and every time I catch sight of myself in the mirror I feel embarrassed and my face gets even hotter and redder. Sorry Alistair, I can’t face seeing anyone, especially that bloody, Cece Hughes, she always looks so perfectly glamorous.’

 

Alistair threw his hands up in the air and let them drop down to his thighs, making a smacking sound. ‘Oh well, I won’t bother going then,’ he said as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

She rushed over and sat closely next to him, he felt the bed sink. ‘Alistair, I want to come, I really really do. I just wanted to look nice for once that’s all.’

 

‘You always look….’ Alistair held out his hands as if attempting to dilute his words, ‘quite nice.’

 

Lynne lifted her hand to her face and rubbed the back of her knuckles across her lips.’I knew I should have had an enzyme peel instead, it would have been so much more gentle on my skin.’

 

‘What’s an enzyme peel?’

 

‘It’s just fruit.’

 

‘Fruit? We’ve plenty of fruit in the house!’

 

‘But now I look like a….’

 

‘You look exactly the same as usual but redder that’s all.’

 

Lynne placed her hand on her husband’s knee. ‘I’m really sorry Alistair but I really don’t want to leave the house,’ she took a deep breath and continued, ‘but you must keep your appointment. If you don’t keep it, well, that tells me that you don’t want to save our marriage and that isn’t fair on the boys, is it. Imagine how upset they’ll be.’

 

Alistair was half taken in by her slightly twisted logic. He knew the boys would be upset if they split but was Lynne bluffing? She’d done it before, a dozen times at least, threatened to leave him, it was almost cyclical. There was something terrifying about her shiny, red face and he left the room and headed for the dusty, rusty sanctuary of his workshop.

 

The vices were calling his name. He put his thumb against the metal plate and turned the handle, around and around until it squeezed his flesh and he heard the sound of his pulse ringing like a bell inside his ears. 

 

‘You can put your thing inside that if you want to know what an NHS vasectomy will be like. For god’s sake Alistair, I’ve moved mountains to get you an appointment at a private clinic and you’re so childish and such a….coward that you won’t even go by yourself! Well you can have it done at the local hospital then and don’t come running to me when you get gangrene!’

 

He hadn’t noticed Lynne in the doorway and her speech made him lose concentration and turn the handle an extra half circle, almost crunching the bones in his thumb. ‘Aaaaah!’ he rasped, quickly turning it back so he could release it. Clutching it in his other hand. ‘Okay, I’ll go, if it’s going to shut you up for a while, I’ll go.’