by Robert Mills
My mother was her usual self and fussed over Meena, admiring her ring with unwarranted enthusiasm. This came as no surprise, but my father’s interest in my prospective bride was unexpected. However, thinking back to his original meeting with Meena over a meal out in central London, I did recall him displaying a degree of animation that was unusual for him. Casting my mind back even further, I might have remembered his unexpected recognition of Gardenia. Now I was all too aware of his attentiveness to Meena at the meal table and the self-satisfied grin that spread across his face whenever she entered the room. For reasons that I don’t understand, the notion that one’s parents might have an interest in the opposite sex is alien to most of us and we are horrified by the thought of our parents copulating, despite the fact that we are aware that this is the way in which we came into the world.
I was tired and found making conversation hard going on the first evening, but my father was unusually talkative. “I don’t know what the Federation’s coming to,” he said. “It’s bad enough that we’ve got that ghastly woman Steibel as president but what really gets me is that the only British person in the government is a complete idiot.”
“I don’t think that Meena wants to discuss politics on a Friday evening, dear,” said my mother sternly.
“Oh, it’s quite alright, Mrs Shaw,” said Meena, blinking vigorously. “I thought it was very interesting what Mr Shaw was saying. My father was terribly upset when the Social Democrats got in. He says they can’t be trusted with the Federation’s finances.”
“He’s quite right, my dear,” continued my father. “Look what happened to the Euro when they were in before. Someone ought to do something about it.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Well,” my father sat back in his chair while he considered how to answer, “we could alter the electoral system for a start; only allow people with a decent education to have the vote.”
Previously I had only taken an interest in politics because Marvin liked to discuss the issues of the day and I didn’t want to be left out, but at this point I was unable to contain myself.
“Surely you’re forgetting something,” I said with a vehemence that surprised me as much as my audience. “We live in a democracy; that means one man one vote, regardless who that man or woman happens to be. The people elected the present government and the fact that you don’t like them is neither here nor there. If we were to introduce a voting system along the lines that you suggest, how exactly would you decide who would be allowed to vote? Now I imagine you’d want to exclude the underclass, but would those in work need to have completed secondary education or would they need a degree? After all there are plenty of sensible, intelligent people who don’t have a stack of academic qualifications. Some of them run large businesses for a start. What other factors would you take into account? For example, would an individual’s income make a difference to whether or not they could vote, or would the vote be restricted to those who owned their own homes? The concept seems superficially attractive but it’s totally unworkable in practice. The present administration is the lawful government of the European Federation. Goodness knows we needed a change. Surely it’s better to have Greta Steibel as president than the previous woman; she was totally indecisive.”
My father looked at me askance. We had never before discussed politics, let alone disagreed about political issues. I wish now we’d had more discussions like that, because I think it would have brought us closer together. As it was, we never discussed politics again.
My mother cleared her throat. “Well, why don’t we go through to the drawing room?” she said. “Norman, haven’t we got a bottle of champagne in the cooler? We should have a little toast to mark this happy occasion.”
We retired to the drawing room and my father brought out some suitable glasses and part filled them carefully with champagne. We raised our glasses and my father wished us every happiness for the future and my mother embraced Meena.
“We’re so very happy to welcome you to the family, my dear,” she gushed.
And so the weekend continued, my mother fussing and my father drooling, while I remained a passive and somewhat bemused bystander. Meena simpered or batted her eyelids, according to whom she was addressing, while my parents continued to enthuse over the excellence and fortuitousness of my choice of a life-partner. Once again I was glad to be home when the weekend was over.
I have often wondered how different my life would have been if I’d had a closer relationship with my parents. I felt stifled by my mother’s overbearing attentiveness and alienated by my father’s inability to communicate with me. My brother Tom, on the other hand, seemed able to relate easily to both of them. He and I were never close, which suggests that the fault was mainly mine. Tom always seemed to me to be so much better adjusted than I am and able to take everything in his stride. There is no doubt that he and I have very different personalities and I do believe that nature is dominant over upbringing when it comes to the formation of character.
And so in the autumn of 2158, Meena and I were married. It was a quiet affair in a small South London hall of marriages, followed by a reception in a nearby hotel. Marvin was my best man and we arrived together some twenty minutes before the ceremony was due to begin.
Marvin looked at me anxiously. “You alright, Symon?” he enquired.
“I’m OK,” I replied, avoiding making eye contact with him. “You know I don’t like things like this.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is? I hope you aren’t getting cold feet.”
“Of course not,” I lied.
“I never had any doubts about marrying Liv,” he said, looking thoughtful, “and I have no regrets now. You’ll really enjoy being married.” He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. We could see Mrs Naylor alighting from a robo-cab a few yards down the road. She was wearing an enormous, hideous hat, which made her look like a strange kind of mushroom with legs. She spotted us and waved.
“Hello Symon,” she beamed when she reached us. “She won’t be long. She was almost dressed when I left.”
I smiled as broadly as I could and Marvin and I followed her into the building. As we took our place at the front on the groom’s side, I felt a sense of foreboding, but banished it with thoughts about the many potential benefits of married life. At the top of my list was regular sex.
My mother tapped me on the shoulder. I hadn’t noticed that she, my father and Tom were sitting directly behind Marvin and I, such was my state of distraction. “It’s going to be alright,” she said. “I expect you’re nervous and uncertain, but it’s going to be alright.” She squeezed my arm in a reassuring way and I must admit that I felt much better. My father sat impassively at her side, while Tom couldn’t suppress a self-satisfied smirk. Marvin turned to me and was about to speak when the sound system struck up the familiar strains of ‘Here Comes the Bride’.
At first I couldn’t bring myself to look round, but as the bride and her father drew level with our row, I glanced over my shoulder and saw a vision of loveliness gliding by on her father’s arm. Meena kept looking straight ahead, but I sensed that she wanted to look towards me to gauge my reaction to her arrival. Her long blonde hair was piled elegantly on her head and her veil gave an ethereal quality to her features, which transformed them from the ordinary to the sublime. My doubts and fears evaporated and I stood beside her in front of the Registrar in a state of excited anticipation.
We made our vows and he said, “I now affirm that your union is legally binding.”
After the ceremony we made the short journey to the reception on foot, hand in hand and covered in confetti. Marvin gave a splendid speech that was admired by all the guests. My mother cried and my father shook me warmly by the hand and offered his ‘sincere congratulations’. His demeanour suggested that this declaration might have been accompanied by a knowing wink, but my father was not the winking sort.
After the reception, Meena changed from her wedding gown into a dress with a skirt that was short enough to display the enticing promise of her legs. She blushed when she saw me looking at her. “It’s not too daring, is it?” she asked nervously.
“Of course not, you look fabulous,” I reassured her.
As I didn’t own a car, we were whisked off in a robo-cab to the Continental Transit Station to begin our honeymoon. This was a generous gift from my affluent Uncle Cyril, my own resources being inadequate to finance anything more than a week in a cheap hotel somewhere in England. As it was we travelled across the Channel Bridge by rapid transit vehicle to France and then on to Nice, on the south coast of that region.
As I looked around our well-appointed hotel room my mind was focused on only one thing: the fact that I was about to be ushered into the garden of delights which had thus far been denied me. If I’d had my way I would have been between the sheets with her as soon as we arrived, but Meena indicated that she was hungry and that she’d like to change and go out for dinner. Food was the last thing on my mind, but I reluctantly agreed. To my considerable annoyance, she retired to the bathroom with the garments she had chosen for the evening and locked the door.
Over dinner she was excited and talked constantly about our future together. I was conscious that I was drinking more than my share of the bottle of wine that accompanied the meal. Despite this Meena, who was unaccustomed to alcohol, became increasingly giggly and almost flirtatious as we continued eating. I was caught up in the romance of the evening and after dessert I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. “Here’s to us, my darling,” I said, raising my glass. “May we have a long and happy life together.”
“Oh, Symon,” she said, blushing deeply. Then she leant across the table to kiss me lightly on the lips.
On our way back to the hotel I put my arm round her waist and we walked on together as one. However, the cool evening air seemed to sober her up and when we arrived back at the hotel she suggested that I use the bathroom first, while she completed her unpacking. When I’d finished, I climbed into bed and waited. I lay there naked in the semi-darkness for what seemed like an eternity, but at last the door opened and Meena entered wearing a dressing gown that buttoned up almost to the neck and went down to her feet. She removed this protective garment, revealing a nightdress that came down to just below the knee.
She slipped into bed beside me and rolled over to face me. At first I caressed her through the thin fabric, but as our kisses became more passionate and I could hear her breathing quicken, I reached down and pulled up the nightdress so that I could touch her skin. I was thrilled by its softness and the firmness of her body. Before long this garment was lying in a heap on the bedroom floor and I was easing her knickers down over her knees.
Judging that the right moment had come, I began to penetrate her. She flinched and gave a little cry of pain, but I pressed on. As a result of prolonged abstinence, the wine and the excitement of the moment, it was all over soon afterwards and I lay back on my pillows with a profound sense of anticlimax. Meena reached for the tissue dispenser beside the bed.
“I’m bleeding, is that alright?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes darling,” I said reassuringly. I put my arm round her and rolled her close to me. “It was your first time. It’ll get better and better as we do it more, you’ll see.”
Apparently overcome by the excitement of the day and the journey, Meena was soon asleep. I lay awake for some time thinking about the future. There was talk of part-time working in my office, as more and more of our tasks were taken over by artificial intelligence. This would mean a cut in salary that I could ill afford or worse still that I might lose my job.
Chapter Fourteen
Six months after our wedding Meena announced that she was pregnant. I was somewhat taken aback by this news, as I had understood that she had been using contraception. She was somewhat evasive about whether or not she had been taking precautions and I couldn’t help wondering if this had been a deliberate act on her part, but she was clearly delighted by the news and so I let the matter drop. I wouldn’t wish to give the impression that I in any way regretted the birth of my children, for this is certainly not the case. I love both of them dearly and wish that I could see more of them, especially in my present circumstances. My concern was not that I was to become a father, but that the new circumstances would create significant financial problems for us. I couldn’t help thinking that Meena had allowed this to happen to escape from her job, which I knew she hated. She’d wanted to give up work when we married but I pointed out that we couldn’t manage without her income. The rapidly shrinking job market that had resulted from increased automation in almost all areas of human endeavour had meant that women with children were obliged to stop work unless their job was professional or managerial in nature, or was considered to be vital to the national interest. Meena’s job did not fall into either of these categories.
In addition, I felt that I should at least have been asked about whether or not I felt ready for parenthood. However, I clearly had to shoulder some of the blame for what had happened, so I said nothing. Marvin congratulated us warmly but Liv could only manage a ghost of a smile . I knew that they had been trying for a baby for some time without success. Meena was oblivious to this and prattled on endlessly about the forthcoming happy event. Needless to say, both sets of prospective grandparents were delighted. I considered discussing my misgivings about our future with Marvin, but decided against it. Nonetheless, it was Marvin who provided the means by which I was able to cope with my new financial responsibilities.
Shortly after the news broke, I met him for a drink after work. I was pleased when he suggested the meeting, as I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him on his own for quite some time. He seemed to be somewhat subdued so I insisted on buying the first round of drinks. I asked him how his company was doing.
“Business has been rather slow lately,” he replied. “There’s a lot more competition now and some of the other companies are larger and better capitalised than mine.”
“What will you do?”
“I think we need to relocate somewhere where the market is expanding faster.”
“Whereabouts?”
“There is a very attractive incentive scheme for companies wanting to set up on Europa.”
“Wow, that would be a big step,” I said. “What does Liv think about the idea?”
“She understands the problems and she’s prepared to back me all the way.” He took another drink from his glass and continued, “To be quite honest, I’m finding running the business on my own too much for me now. I could do with someone to act as my assistant, you know, take some of the pressure off. Would you be interested?”
I was somewhat taken aback. I hadn’t expected such an offer and hadn’t given any thought to the possibility of making such a radical change of career, let alone helping Marvin set up a new company millions of kilometres from Earth. In any case, it seemed to me that I was ill equipped for such a post. “It’s a very kind offer,” I said, “but I don’t know anything about the robot maintenance business.”
“I don’t think that really matters,” he said, “after all you did a business course at university. In any case, most of it is common sense. I wouldn’t be able to pay you much at first, but I imagine what I can offer would be more than you’re getting now.”
“Well, if you’re really sure about this I’ll certainly think it over,” I said. I was flattered by Marvin’s confidence in me, but not entirely convinced that I would be up to the challenge. I added, “I’ll have to talk to Meena, of course; I’m not sure how she’d feel about leaving Earth to live in a colony so far away.” It seemed better to attribute my reticence to my wife, but the truth was that I still had considerable reservations about the prospect of a move to an outpost of human civilisation.
“Fair enough,” he said
. “Give me a call when you’ve made up your mind. It’s my round; same again?”
When I arrived home, Meena glared at me. I was later than I’d said I’d be and the dinner had been ready for some time and was therefore, by definition, spoiling. Her mood softened when I told her about Marvin’s offer.
“That’s wonderful, darling,” she enthused. “When do you start?”
“I haven’t decided whether or not to accept the offer,” I said. “I’m not sure that I’m cut out for life in microgravity miles from Earth and, as I said to Marvin, I know nothing about robots.”
“But Symon, you’re clever and practical. I think you’ll do very well. I know Europa is a long way away but there are a lot of opportunities there.”
“You may be right but I wouldn’t want to let Marvin down and in any case life there might not suit us. If things didn’t work out, how would we get back to Earth?”
“You always underestimate yourself, darling,” she said firmly. “You’ve got a lot to offer, you really have. I know life would be very different on Europa but we’d still be together. You should think positively about this opportunity.”
“How do you feel about being so far away from your parents?” I asked. “You won’t be able to pop over and see them whenever you want to as you do now.”
“I’ll miss them, of course,” she said, “but my priority now is you and your career.”
I was surprised that Meena was so ready to accept an upheaval in our life of this magnitude, but I must admit that her vote of confidence certainly influenced my decision to accept. Still, I only made the decision after careful consideration of all the pros and cons of such a step. It was certainly a gamble but I felt that, given the new circumstances in which we found ourselves, there was a need for bold action. I called Marvin a couple of days later to accept his offer and the following week I gave in my notice at work. My parents were less than enthusiastic about my decision when they learned about it, but this somehow only served to make me more resolute. I understood that they were concerned about us being so far away, especially with their first grandchild on the way, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in a dead end job with no possibility of advancement and needed a change. The prospect of working closely with Marvin in this alien world was much more appealing than my previous offer from the British Retail Consortium.