"Expecting" performed live 31st October 2020

Expecting

Anna cradled her stomach unconsciously. 

Her father pretended not to notice, but under the thin fabric of his polo shirt, his old heart gave a flutter. 

“How’s work?” He asked, trying not to let on. 

“Fine.” Anna lied, offering half a smile at best. “The same really. It’s getting a bit dull in fact.” 

Her father nodded, disappointment practically shelling from him like beads of sweat. 

“You really seemed to like that job. You called me when you got it, remember?” 

“I remember.” She said, pressing her feet firmly against the carpet, wishing she could sink into its very fibers. 

“You never called me about any of the others.” 

“I know.” 

“But it’s not what you expected?” He asked. 

“The opposite.” She forced herself to sit up straight, to look him in the eye. “It’s exactly what I was expecting.” 

They didn’t say anything for a while after that, but Anna felt she had given him enough to evade further investigation for a week or two. Now he knew why she’d been so quiet these past few months, why her social media had ground to a halt. 

At the front door, her father let her walk ahead of him. 

“I’m really happy for you, you know?” His words caught her as she crossed the threshold.  

Anna turned back to face the house. It was larger than memory had let her believe, too large for one person. 

“Thanks, dad.” Was all she could say in return. 

But her father wasn’t done. 

“This is good. Now that you’re in a proper relationship, one with a future, you can-” 

Her expression faltered. Anna felt laughter rising in her like steam. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, incredulous. 

Her father made a non-committal sound, somewhere between confusion and dismissal. 

“What did you mean by proper relationship? I suppose Kat was fictional then?” 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He started to blush. 

Anna took a deep breath, but it only fueled her desire to press him further. 

“Well, what did you mean then?” 

“I only meant that, now you’re seeing Rich, you can start planning a future. You’ve already taken the first step in moving in together, maybe one day you’ll get married, start a family.”

Anna’s stomach gave a twinge, and she hugged herself tight. Her father watched; concerned, amazed. 

“Is there...anything you want to tell me?” He asked. “You were a little vague in there, about work, about a lot of things.” 

“No.” She said outright, lessening her grip. “I’ll just...I’ll see you later, Dad.” 

Her feet led her from the building and down the driveway as if adolescent footprints remained, preserved in cement. The scuttling inside her was growing louder every day, and as she boarded the train, it was almost deafening. 

--- 

Rich’s flat was always warm, always fragrant. He had a thing about scented candles.

She often wondered if they were solely for her benefit, a kind of peace offering. You’re welcome here. I don’t bite. 

Anna tried not to be so skeptical, to think about their relationship as a whole rather than dissecting every scene of it like a worn-out movie reel. But this was easier said than done. 

When she arrived home, Rich was sprawled out on the sofa, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and laptop whirring on his knees. He looked up. 

“How did it go? Did you tell him?” 

Anna closed the door behind her and started uncoiling the scarf from around her neck. 

A moment of freedom, short lived. 

“I told him.” She said, brushing his legs off the couch and plopping herself down beside him. 

“You told him we moved in together?” Rich asked. 

“I did.” 

“And you told him about...?” He gestured towards her stomach. 

Anna swallowed. 

“You didn’t tell him?”  

“Hey, we don’t know for definite that I’m-” 

“Oh, come on.” Rich closed his laptop, lowering it to the floor. “What else could it be? All the signs are there. You’ve had every symptom in the book.” 

The scuttling started again, more piercing this time. If there truly was a baby in there - not even a baby, an infant, a zygote, a bundle of cells that just happened to be in the right place at the right time - Anna wondered what on earth it could be doing to cause such a racket. 

But of course, Rich didn’t hear a thing. 

“I’m starting to think it’s just indigestion.” She patted her belly like a drum skin.

“You’re nuts...” He scoffed. “We both know what this is. Why didn’t you just tell him? You know it would make him happy. You’re all he has left.” 

The scuttling was in her head now, like fingernails on exposed bone. Her body gave a shiver. 

“What?” Rich’s voice hitched with concern. He turned to face her on the couch. “What is it? Are you in pain?” 

Anna squeezed her eyes shut; her hands balled into fists of electric white. At his touch, the scuttling amassed into something wild and terrible, as if the once indistinguishable sounds were finally forming into words. 

Her eyes shot open, quick enough to catch a glimpse of Rich whipping his hand from her stomach. There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. Fear? Disgust? 

“What the fuck was that?” His voice trembled. “It can’t move like that yet, not...not properly. Can it?” 

Her bangs fell in a veil across her face. She shook her head from side to side, the thing rattling, loosening inside her. 

“No.” Anna said, feeling something prickling her throat, something dense as a clump of matted fur. 

She started to choke, the lump rising, forcing itself up towards the light, towards fresh air. She could sense its desperation, a will to rival her own.  

Rich was helpless, undecided between rubbing his partner’s back and fetching her a glass of water. He settled on the latter. 

Anna sipped. 

After a moment or two, the discomfort seemed to have subsided. They could feel their hearts pounding, separate organs sharing the same spark of pure fear. 

Then she coughed again, and the thing was out. It landed in the glass like a spray of ink, the low gargle of its submersion echoing in the silent apartment. 

Anna held the glass with a steadiness that unnerved Rich. He wanted so badly to look away from the thing, from the woman he claimed to love but who was now smiling at a black, globule mass as though it were the most precious thing in the world to her. 

Softly, he touched her wrist. The water trembled slightly, but Anna’s grip remained sure. The thing turned over in the water, fixing Rich with its empty gaze. 

“Anna...” He whispered. “Honey, I don’t think this is healthy.” 

“Shh!” She stared at the glass, her eyes filling with tears. 

Rich swallowed hard, afraid to draw his hand away. 

“I think...” Anna smiled. “He’s trying to sleep.”