A Thousand Small Explosions

by John Marrs

  ‘Maybe it’s nature’s way of balancing us out. We’ve almost found cures for cancer and AIDS so now nature is trying to keep us under control with love.’

  ‘There’ve been stranger theories.’

  ‘So you don’t think that true love can exist between couples who aren’t pre-destined?’

  ‘No, no, that’s not what I mean, of course it can. What I am saying is that I can help you find that person you are linked to. But should you choose not to be with them, you can still fall in love with someone else. Those who have been Matched often feel something deeper and more complete. The other person is literally their other half.’

  ‘And how did you turn what you found into a business?’

  ‘Once I realised the ramifications of what it might mean, it scared me so I sat on it for a while as it’s a huge responsibility. Because once the news got out, I’d be changing the way people thought about their relationships; it’d be like telling the world I’d proved there was no God or that extra terrestrials existed – people wouldn’t believe me or they’d be scared. So I got many, many fellow scientists – and I’m talking dozens - to go over my notes to prove I wasn’t a crackpot. And when every test proved I was right, some old uni friends and hedge fund investors helped me to register Match Your DNA as a trademark and get biological patents for Australia, Europe, Japan and the USA. Then after an announcement in the medical journal The Lancet, the story went viral.’

  ‘I think I remember reading about it in The Sun but I didn’t take much notice of it.’

  ‘Thousands and thousands of people did though and got in touch wanting to send me their DNA to put on our database in the hope of finding their Match. We sent them testing kits so they could do it for free but to turn it into a viable business, we had to charge for the results for if and when a Match came along. I mean, if you were told your “other half” had registered, there’s a good chance that curiosity would get the better of you and you’d pay to find out who they were.’

  ‘Definitely. And I guess the irony of it all was that you weren’t Matched to anyone until this ugly mug came along.’

  ‘Yes, but I wouldn’t say your mug was ugly though.’

  ‘You’re very kind. Do people always feel love at first sight?’

  ‘Studies show that ninety-two per cent of the time in their first couple of hours of meeting, there’s an instant, arrow-to-the-heart attraction. With the other eight percent, it can take a couple more meetings for the spark to appear. But that can be down to psychological issues; anything from something as serious as a mental illness like clinical depression to emotional problems like whether they have trust issues or have built up barriers. Initially they might fight those feelings, but once they’re in their Match’s presence, eventually nature will always prevail.’

  ‘What about a regular person and someone with a genetic disorder like Down’s Syndrome? Can they be Matched?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be a bit… weird?’

  ‘Are you saying people with learning difficulties shouldn’t be given the chance to find love too?’

  ‘No, what I mean is, well, what I’m saying is...’

  ‘That society isn’t ready for that yet, and yes, you’re right, I don’t think it is. But that’s out of my control.’

  ‘You mentioned how your discovery has affected so many people’s lives for the better and the worse. Doesn’t that weigh heavy on your conscience?’

  ‘Of course, I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t have mixed emotions about it. I’ve had hate mail and death threats from people whose partners have left them to be with their Match and from people with no Match who think it’s my fault. For every ten Matches we put together, three regular couples will split up. We’ve put thousands of online dating agencies, matchmakers and Apps world-wide out of business, but on the flipside, we’ve given so much work to divorce lawyers and relationship counsellors; we’ve boosted the wedding industry as people are more willing to commit knowing they’re made for each other.’

  ‘How do you stop kids from taking the test, or paedophiles being Matched with them?’

  ‘Each country has its own laws based on the age of consent, and here in Britain, you can’t do it until you’re sixteen or over. We run a search via the International Criminal Database too and warn every person who gets a Match if that person has a record and what it’s for. But sometimes people slip through the net or they’ve never been charged with a crime, which is why there’s about forty pages of legal disclaimers on our website. I admit, it’s a grey area and I have a huge legal team that deals with the lawsuits we get but not one case has ever got past the first couple of court appearances because we’re not to blame for the results. It’d be like suing gun manufacturers on behalf of anyone who’s ever been shot - it’s not the fault of the weapons, it’s the users. I’ve provided the tool to change your life but I can’t be held responsible if you abuse it. So that woman who threw paint at me, well, she could have been anyone. I usually take Andrei or the team with me to stop things like that happening, but the night you and I met for dinner, I insisted on going alone. I just wanted to feel like a regular person again.’

  ‘And up until she attacked you, did you feel regular with me?’

  Ellie blushed. ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘I know you’re one of the eight per cent who haven’t felt that lightning bolt yet, but just for the record, I’m already there.’

  Ellie went a deeper shade of red and tried to prevent a huge grin from spreading across her face.

  ‘Andrei, would you mind looking away for a moment?’ Tim asked, and Andrei narrowed his eyes, then reluctantly obliged. Tim turned his head to kiss Ellie.

  And for the first time since they met, an overwhelming wave of euphoria began to charge its way through her veins like an electrical current.

  CHAPTER 51

  AMANDA

  Amanda stared at the sepia-coloured three-dimensional image of the child she was carrying.

  The sonographer passed her two printouts to keep, one for herself and one for the baby’s grandmother who’d been with her in the room for the twelve-week scan.

  ‘It looks like a tiny kidney bean but with the face of an alien,’ Amanda commented as she showed Emma the scan back at Jenny’s house.

  ‘Aw bless it!’ cooed Emma. ‘It’s so cute!’

  ‘Did you ask if it’s a boy or a girl?’

  ‘No, I’m happy to wait.’

  ‘It’s a boy,’ Jenny added, ‘I’m sure of it. Richard is having a son.’

  *

  Four months earlier and much to Jenny and Emma’s tearful delight, Amanda had accepted Jenny’s offer to use her late son Richard’s frozen sperm and have the baby she’d always dreamed of.

  Amanda didn’t enquire about the legalities of how Jenny had come to be in charge of Richard’s DNA, although she knew lawyers had become involved because she’d signed various forms filled with legalese and jargon she didn’t understand. She was too filled with excitement and trepidation at the prospect of what was to come, to consider its lawful validity.

  Jenny paid for Amanda’s pre-insemination check-up at a private fertility clinic in London’s Harley Street where there were endless tests to undergo to see if the procedure was even possible. Amanda underwent a hormone profile, and blood, ultrasound and STI checks along with measures she could barely pronounce like a hysterosalpingogram and laparoscopy. A fortnight later when Amanda was ovulating, a doctor placed a small sample of Richard’s sperm into the neck of her womb and sent her home to let nature take its course.

  When her period arrived three weeks later, she sobbed for much of the day then gave herself the rest of the week to feel sorry for herself before she returned to the clinic the following month for a second attempt.

  But before Amanda had even peed on the home pregnancy test stick and watched the blue cross form, she knew she had fallen pregnant. From the first morning she awoke with a queasy feeling and then the pressi
ng need to vomit, the symptoms mirrored her first two pregnancies with her ex-husband Sean. They’d both ended in miscarriages within the first three months, and as she sat on the cold, slate tiles of her bathroom floor clenching the test, she prayed history would not repeat itself and it would be third time lucky.

  Truth be told, Amanda wasn’t sure how she should be feeling. She was aware she should be delighted and excited, yet fear was the only emotion coursing through her, and as hard as she tried not to be distressed, she couldn’t stop weeping.

  Amanda spent less and less time at her flat and more time in the company of Jenny and Emma now she was without the day-to-day grind of work in a job she’d grown to loathe. Jenny was still on compassionate leave from her work in the accounts department of a supermarket, and with Emma living just a few streets away from her mother, the three women spent many of their days and evenings together.

  Amanda often stayed the night at Jenny’s house, although she was no longer consigned to the spare room, having been offered Richard’s bedroom instead. It was in his bed, surrounded by his smells and his invisible presence that enabled her to sleep with fewer broken sleep patterns than anywhere else. And it was also a place where her dreams of Richard remained unsullied by the reality of her situation.

  The first person Amanda called with the good news of her pregnancy was Emma who had grown as close to her as her sisters had once been. She wanted Emma to be by her side when she told Jenny she was to become a grandmother. And the morning it happened, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Now, with her first trimester complete, Amanda felt more confident in telling the world that she was expecting - only she had no idea how to break the news to her own family.

  Amanda had grown estranged from her three sisters and mother long before she’d fallen pregnant, and it had been all her own doing. She’d decided that until she had thoroughly processed Richard’s loss in her own way and in her own good time, a distance needed to be placed between them. It was unfair but she was convinced they wouldn’t understand what it meant to lose somebody you’ve never had.

  However, when her doorbell rang she was caught off-guard by Paula and Karen’s unexpected appearance.

  ‘What’s going on?’ began Paula before she’d even walked through the front door. ‘You rarely answer our calls, we get a text from you once in a blue moon and you haven’t seen your nieces or nephew since Bella’s birthday party.’

  ‘Is this Richard knocking you around?’ asked Karen bluntly. ‘You can tell us if he is and we can help you. You don’t have to stay with him just because he’s your Match.’

  ‘No, no, look I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a bad sister and aunty, it’s just that it’s been a … peculiar few months.’

  Amanda ushered them inside her home and into the lounge. They sat next to each other on the sofa with puzzled expressions, fixated on their aloof sister who was pacing up and down the carpet.

  ‘What do you mean by peculiar?’ continued Karen. ‘What’s going on because Mum’s worried about you. We’re all worried.’

  Amanda stopped in her tracks, hitched up her jumper and revealed a small but noticeable baby bump. Karen and Paula let out high-pitched squeals and jumped up to hug and squeeze her.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ shrieked Paula.

  ‘Because after the last two miscarriages I wanted to make sure I got through the first three months okay.’

  ‘And is everything alright with the baby?’ asked Karen.

  ‘Yes, it’s fine, it’s growing at a healthy rate and everything looks good.’

  ‘And what does Richard think? Are we finally going to meet the father-to-be?’

  ‘Where is he?’ continued Paula and turned her head to peer into the kitchen and dining room.

  ‘I think you need to sit back down,’ began Amanda calmly.

  ‘Why, aren’t we going to like this? Don’t tell me the little shit’s done a runner? Karen, didn’t I tell you that’s why we haven’t met him? He’s bloody dumped her. How’s that even possible? I didn’t think you could get binned by your Match?’

  ‘No no, that’s not the case at all. Richard doesn’t know about the baby because … because Richard is no longer with us.’

  Amanda’s sisters frowned and looked at each other, unsure if they understood her correctly.

  ‘So he has left you?’ said Paula.

  ‘No, I mean he has left us in another way.’

  ‘What other way is there other than he’s dead?’ asked Karen.

  Amanda said nothing but the look on her face told Karen and Paula the truth.

  ‘Your boyfriend died and you didn’t say anything?’ Paula continued. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Richard was never my boyfriend,’ Amanda replied slowly and deliberately, ‘because he and I never met. Soon after I found out I had a Match, I learned he had been killed in a hit and run car accident.’

  Karen stared at her sister with a concerned expression, then moved to the edge of the sofa and reached for her hand. ‘Then how are you pregnant, hon?’

  ‘I’m not mad, Karen, and this isn’t a figment of my imagination. Richard had cancer when he was a teenager so he stored his sperm in a fertility clinic bank. I’ve been getting to know his family over the last few months and his mum asked me if I’d consider having his child using his sperm.’

  Karen quickly withdrew her hand and the mood in the room dramatically turned.

  ‘You what? She just gave away her son’s spunk to a complete stranger? And you said yes?’

  ‘No, it’s not like that.’

  ‘Then what is it like? You’re carrying a dead man’s baby! It’s … it’s wrong.’

  Amanda shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. She wanted to convey to her sisters what it was like to feel love for somebody who was not there in person, but she could tell by their disapproving glowers that they remained unconvinced by the choice she’d made.

  ‘I’m sorry Mandy, you know I love you but I think this is so, so wrong,’ began Paula, while Karen nodded her support. ‘Having a baby by a dead man you’ve never met with the permission of a woman you barely know? It’s bloody ridiculous.’

  ‘How is it any different from women who go it alone with an anonymous sperm donor?’

  ‘Of course it’s different! Your donor’s dead isn’t he?’

  ‘But he’s my Match and I love him.’ Immediately Amanda regretted her last comment but it was too late to take it back.

  ‘You can’t be in love with a man you’ve never met, Mandy. You’re in love with the idea of being in love and his family have put these silly ideas into your head about being part of them. You’re not and you never will be. You’re just their incubator… a rent-a-womb… a surrogate.’

  Amanda felt her temper rise and struggled to keep it in check.

  ‘How dare you say that!’ she yelled. ‘You don’t know the first thing about them or what I’ve been through in the last few months. Just because it’s not a conventional relationship like yours it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Not everyone can be like you … not everyone can find their Match and live happily ever after.’

  ‘I haven’t found my Match,’ said Karen unexpectedly, and Amanda and Paula looked at her in surprise. ‘Gary and I did the test and we weren’t Matched but we told everybody we were.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Amanda.

  ‘Because when you don’t marry your Match, people sit and watch and wait for it go wrong. They don’t mean to, they just do, it’s human nature. So it was easier just to lie. But we love each other and there’s nothing stopping you from meeting the right man and having what we have.’

  ‘But I don’t want what you have because it will always be second best! Gary will never mean everything to you, you’ll never have children with ‘the one’. You’ll always be settling.’

  ‘Don’t you dare say that about my children!’ Karen yelled, clambering to her feet as Paula held her back. ‘My kids will never be second best!’
r />   ‘No, that’s not what I meant, it came out wrong,’ said Amanda, her eyes filling with tears. ‘You’re not listening to me.’

  ‘You need to come back with us to Mum’s house,’ Karen said firmly. ‘Paula, go and get her some clothes and I’ll pack some toiletries.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Amanda screamed, ‘Stop judging me and stop trying to tell me what I’m doing with my life is wrong. It’s none of your business.’

  ‘You’re our sister so of course it’s our business what you do, especially when you’re not right in the head. You can’t be in love with a dead man … you need help.’

  ‘I need you two to get the hell out of my house,’ Amanda snapped and grabbed at Karen’s arm, pulling her towards the front door. Paula looked at her in disbelief and followed. ‘Get out now!’ Amanda yelled and her sisters left, astonished by her outburst.

  By the time Amanda reached Jenny’s house an hour and a half later, she knew she was in the company of a family who really understood her.

  *

  Amanda took the sonogram picture back upstairs to Richard’s bedroom, then pinned it to his wall of photographs, in between a picture she’d already placed there of herself aside one of Richard.

  ‘We’re going to be a family soon,’ she said, then kissed her finger and placed it on Richard’s lips. ‘And I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s wrong.’

  CHAPTER 52

  CHRISTOPHER

  Thirty.

  A number that represents a myriad of inoffensive and mildly important things to different people. A figure that serves as a numeric milestone when it comes to one’s age; the speed limit in a pedestrian zone; the atomic number of zinc; the number of tracks on the Beatles’ White Album; the age Jesus was baptised and the number of upright boulders standing in Stonehenge.