Clare

“ ……..and they have sex with their children…..the whole family”

I’d been peeling the nail varnish off my fingernails but I stopped and looked up when she said that. No way – people didn’t do that did they? Not for real? I looked at Miranda to see if she looked as if she believed what Clare was saying, but it was impossible to tell as always. She just sat there cross-legged, on the grass watching, her face betraying no emotions whatsoever – perfectly blank.

I felt that someone ought to say something, and there were just the three of us; I wasn’t sure what I could usefully add though. Clare was so full of odd stories like that; you never knew what she’d say next. One minute she’d be talking about playing billiards with Mick Jagger, the next, making up horror stories to put off the psychoanalyst that her parents had sent her to. I wondered if all Americans were like that or if it was just Clare;

“Are you sure?”

Clare ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back out of her eyes; she blinked at me

“Everyone knows it’s true.

“That’s repulsive – god – why doesn’t she do something about it?

Clare shrugged as if it was quite normal where she came from – just something you put up with. I was glad I didn’t live in Kensington if it was – I couldn’t think of anything more horrific.

I looked at my watch; I was getting bored sitting on the dusty little patch of grass waiting for Marianne. It was stiflingly hot there. You could see through the iron railings that the traffic had almost come to a standstill on Kensington High Street. I wanted to get back to Hampstead – Miranda and I planned to go to the Hollybush and score some sulphate later that evening and it would take time to get ready. I was very curious though, to see someone my age who was pregnant – that was, after all, why we’d traipsed all the way here from Victoria Street after school

“How did it happen?”

Clare looked at me as if I was stupid

“I mean why wasn’t she on the pill?”

“She was raped – she didn’t know. It wasn’t her fault

Miranda joined in

“Does she know who it was?”

Clare leant closer, so she wouldn’t have to talk so loud over the noise of the traffic

“Yes of course,” then she stopped

”She’s coming. Don’t say anything ok?”

I looked up, and a girl was walking towards us. I tried hard not to stare but I couldn’t help it. Clare smiled and waved to show where we were. Marianne stood for a minute before sitting down next to us. I was surprised at how normal she looked – she was even dressed the same as we all were – baggy dungarees, vest underneath. The only difference was a very slight bump when you looked sideways. It didn’t look all that bad – I knew there was only a month to go so she was hardly likely to get much bigger.

The three of us had made a little circle, and Clare shuffled outwards, making room for Marianne. She sat down and slipped her bag off her shoulder. Clare offered her a Marlboro and she took it staring round as if daring anyone to say anything disapproving.

“Thanks – I’m smoking as much as I can, to make it smaller”

She laughed as she leant over to get a light

There was something hard about her face - it was very thin; her chin jutted out, contrasting sharply against the soft cloud of hennaed hair. She was very pale and you could see she’d overdone the kohl around her eyes. I wondered why she hadn’t bothered to get a tan. I knew she had nothing else to do after all, since she’d left school. I felt sorry for her, nine months was such a long time.

Clare put the lighter back in her bag and smiled; normally she spoke in a high-pitched kind of shriek, and all her words came out in a rush, but when she talked to Marianne her voice became softer and she slowed down a little;

“Boring?”

“God yes. I can’t wait for it to be over”

“Has Valentine come back yet?”

Marianne shook her head

“Still on Mustique. He’s not allowed home til he’s clean”

Miranda took the piece of grass she was chewing out of her mouth;

“What will you do with the baby afterwards?”

“Oh my parents will look after it; and his parents. I’m going to New York”

For the first time, she looked excited. We sat for a while, chatting about New York, watching people cross the small grass triangle. Some used it as a short cut – a brief escape from the crowded pavement, others headed for the benches around the edges – somewhere to sit for a while before they braved the tube trains in the rush hour. After a while, Marianne picked up her bag and got slowly to her feet

“Got to go. I said I wouldn’t be long”

She smiled, waved a few fingers at us, and started slowly back up Kensington Church Street again. Clare jumped up to join her, and Miranda and I stayed a little longer, finishing our cigarettes; then we wandered across to the tube station to go back to Hampstead where things were a little more predictable.