Experiment With Destiny

by Carr, Stephen

  “Not to the unborn child it isn’t!” Dr Bamber spluttered.

  “Of course not! I didn’t mean…I…I meant…extremely safe for the woman using it…no major side effects and as for the so-called ‘acid’…”

  “You wouldn’t consider Mr Dereloni’s gruesome graffiti wall a major side effect, Dr Bamber?” The consultant was speechless. Ted seized his opportunity to land the knock-out punch. “And would you also care to comment on the nature of your relationship with Global Chemical Industries, Dr Bamber? Specifically the six-figure sponsorship your post-graduate research foundation benefited from earlier this year?” ‘Gotcha!’ he mused.

  *

  Carol Rigg stopped typing. The flick of a switch sent the electronically coded file into the machine’s memory. Her notes saved, she paused to consider Gino’s every word and gesture…each inflection, sigh or whisper…all slowly building for her a mental picture of the young woman called Jennifer. He wanted a break from the intensity of this scrutiny and she agreed. He offered her tea or coffee, then left the room. Outside, the low chatter of the media people drifted in with the noise of an otherwise passive and unremarkable suburbia.

  In her mind’s eye she conjured the fiery, passionate woman with fierce red hair, so elegantly and damningly described by her former lover. Carol had already come to the conclusion Jennifer was schizophrenic…or perhaps bi-polar. Was there a difference? Either way, if just half of the artist’s shocking monologue was true, the life model he’d shared a bed with for seven turbulent months after becoming infatuated with her desperately needed professional help and plenty of it! Of course she needed help! It was stating the bleeding obvious. Anyone prepared to crucify their unborn child to a wall was in need of help!

  Gino had painted a detailed and vivid portrait, as he must have done so many times during the past few months, but this time in words rather than oils. It was the portrait of a romantic innocent, almost a child, who hungered for a big, bright world to explore and experience. Carol imagined she could see the bitter sorrow in her piercing eyes, captured so graphically in the expressionist-come-impressionist style oil-on-canvas he’d left poignantly on the table between them throughout the interview. She had the look of a Rosetti, the Pre-Raphaelite romanticism but with the haunted eyes of someone who had discovered all too soon that life was not as sparkling as it first seemed. Jennifer had been used and abused through the naivety of her early relationships, discovering that her fairy-tale princes were no more than emotional paupers and intellectual wastrels. And by the time she posed naked for the artist, her deep scars were obvious. She had shed her idealistic lust for life and wrapped herself in a mantle of bruised shadows; betrayal, fear and insecurity.

  Gino admitted it was all part of the initial attraction – seeing the dying vestiges of what she once was and witnessing the throes of who she had become, revelling in her vulnerability and incurable needs and believing, somewhat egotistically, he had the power to revive her and bring her back from the grave. As he painted for her the gratification of their bestial lust, the delicate fragility within rare moments of shared tenderness, glimpses of new dawns and blossoming life, so too he drew the dark lines of terror that permeated their tumultuous relationship. How her charming smile and twinkling eyes would suddenly twist with fear and rage as feelings of persecution and paranoia took hold of her…and she would crave pain…pain for herself and pain for anyone around her…pain was real, tangible, something to cling on to when all other foundations gave away and threatened to plunge her into a terrifying abyss.

  Carol pictured him trying to cope with those vicious mood swings, the violence of words turned like knives against his own increasingly fragile ego. She imagined him listening, tolerating for as long as he could, as Jennifer screamed out her sinister visions from their sweat-and-semen soaked bed…perhaps even drawing inspiration, like so many of the great artists, from this savage torment. He admitted he should have sought help for her, but instead withdrew into his studio and immersed himself in his work, wearying himself with marathons of painting that would last days, interspersed with drinking binges when he was parched of inspiration. His work became more abstract…as if he was avoiding reality itself. And the end came when he returned to his bed in the early hours one morning, drunk and crusted with paint and vomit, to find her writhing in brazen, naked infidelity with a stranger who appeared both excited and terrified by the obscenities she was shouting. That morning…that very moment, he walked out and moved back in with his parents and spent every subsequent day ignoring her calls.

  Gino returned holding two mugs of tea and sat down, placing them carefully either side of the portrait of Jennifer. Carol studied him, the weariness etched deeply across his dark features. Although his story…his and Jennifer’s…had now taken a very dramatic turn, she sensed it was far from over. She felt a sudden rush of pity for him and almost reached out to offer him comfort. Carol knew he was beyond comforting, just as Jennifer was probably beyond professional help.

  Instead, she flicked the laptop back into life and looked down at the screen to the blinking cursor paused at the end of her last sentence – ‘Jennifer rang again last night, saying it was her final phone call and I’d never hear from her again.’

  “This final call yesterday, Mr Dereloni…what did Jennifer say to make you see her again?”

  *

  XV

  “International News Broadcasting…bringing you the very latest breaking news from around the world…local…national and, of course, international…all day and every day.” Ted waited for his cue, feeling refreshed thanks to what he called his ‘short-sharp-shock’ treatment – a rushed cold shower, change of shirt and a handful of amphetamines. He was no stranger to anchoring breaking news throughout the day and night if necessary and this was necessary…his big story…the foetus on the wall story. It would run-and-run; it had legs, as they say, and he knew he was going to stick with it for as long as he could…establish himself firmly as the face of the foetus on the wall story. It was his baby…excuse the pun…and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to let it go.

  “Good morning. I’m Ted Hallder…” he pictured his perfectly pitched and paced delivery of the key facts and essential details now being syndicated to English-speaking audiences across the world, and even to those faraway corners where no English is spoken…dubbed or subtitled inserts into a host of other news programmes being broadcast in Chinese, Arabic, Spanish and a myriad of languages. “And we can now go live to Cardiff Central Police Station where the Detective Superintendent leading the investigation is about to give a statement.”

  The world-weary officer was already in full flow by the time the outside broadcast audio was fed in. “…able to confirm that we attended a property in the Canton area of Cardiff shortly before 4am following a 999 call from the address and we recovered what we can now confirm to be a 24-week-old male human foetus. Subsequent tests have confirmed that the foetus was terminated by means of chemical compounds used in the Endterm Six over-the-counter home abortion product. We have not been able to establish at this time, and are unlikely to be able to establish at any future time, whether or not the foetus was deceased prior to exiting the womb or died subsequent to exit. It would appear, on expert advice, that this information is in any event irrelevant in respect of stated case law related to the use of so-called home abortion products. Therefore, based on our initial review and discussions with the Crown Prosecution Service we are unlikely to be pursuing any criminal charges in this case and we are no longer treating it as infanticide. Having thoroughly reviewed the statements taken during the course of our investigations there is no evidence or any suggestion that Jennifer Myers has acted unlawfully in any way, either in relation to the use of a legally available, without prescription home abortion kit or, indeed, in accessing the complainant’s property. There was no act of breaking and entering and not even an allegation of trespass on private property. Speculation that we may be referring the matter to the local authority
in respect of failure to properly dispose of clinical waste or, as some media outlets are suggesting, medical fly-tipping is nothing more than that…speculation. The local authority are well aware of this morning’s events and it is a matter for them should they choose to investigate themselves.” He pauses, blinking as cameras flash around him. “We will, of course, assist with any inquiries they might wish to make. Finally, we are certainly not acting on any lines of inquiry into the spurious and somewhat unhelpful allegations of criminal negligence and manslaughter that have been made against Global Chemical Industries by several well-known…lobbying organisations. Any further such concerns should be addressed directly with the pharmaceutical licensing authorities and the Department of Public Health…not with the police!” He sounded annoyed. “I wish to make it abundantly clear that South Wales Police has no role in the regulation of such products. That concludes my statement. I will not be taking questions at this time.”

  He turned on his heels and mounted the steps, keeping his back to the cameras and the shouted questions, returning to the sanctity of the police station. Ted Hallder pursed his lips for the newsroom camera and raises a quizzical eyebrow.

  “So there you have it! A dramatic and somewhat unexpected turn so quickly in the foetus-on-the-wall case that has shocked British Eurostate and the wider world…no police investigation, no prospect of criminal charges…nothing more than a potential ticket for…well…littering, it would seem! We’ll be asking whether the police have made the right call in this case…or whether they have acted too hastily in washing their hands of the matter. Also, coming up…we reveal what happened when our reporter knocked the door of the woman responsible for the foetus on the wall, Jennifer Myers, and we’ll be speaking to a representative of GCI…yes, Global Chemical Industries themselves, makers of the controversial over-the-counter DIY home abortion kit retailing in your local pharmacy for just ninety-nine-ninety-nine!”

  *

  “How was I to know?” Gino asks, as though Carol is not even in the room with him, as if he is petitioning God directly. “How could I know that one call would lead to this…to changing my life completely…forever?” He recounted how he recognised the so familiar number and hesitated, before pressing ‘answer’ and watching her face fill the vidi-screen. Countless times before, during the weeks since walking out on her, he’d ignored such calls without a second’s thought.

  “Gino?” she seemed startled, as she might having been denied so often.

  “Yes Jennifer?” Her hollow grey eyes strained through tears and smudged mascara. She attempted a smile.

  “I really have to speak to you…it’s important!”

  “You’re speaking to me now. What is it? What can you possibly say to me that would be so important?” He remembered the few occasions he’d previously been foolish, or maybe hopeful enough to answer her calls and the torrent of vile abuse and accusations he’d weathered before cutting the line.

  “No…not like this. I need to speak to you…face-to-face. It’s not something that can be said on the phone. I have some news…about us…you and me…something you really need to know.”

  “Jennifer, I’ve heard it all before.” His tone was one of resignation. “We’re not meeting…I’m not going to listen to all that again. We’re through here…it’s never going to happen, between us. I’ve moved on…moving on…and you need to too.”

  “Absolutely!” She nodded. “You’re completely right. It’s time to move on…both of us…me, as well. I know now…and I can see. It’s so clear. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long. But there’s one last thing…and you have to…help…me…”

  “I’m not the right person to help you, Jen…I’m the very last person…”

  “No, not like that…I don’t mean help like that!” she was insistent, her tone resolute. “This…is my final call, I promise, if you meet me just once more, face-to-face. I have to tell you something…important…the most important thing…something you will want to…need to know…unfinished business…and then…closure…for me, and for you. You’ll never see me again. Never hear from me. You have my word!”

  He’d considered for a moment, contemplating the doubt that she could ever be as good as her word…in her tormented state of mind. But it was surely worth a try? Finally he nodded.

  “Tonight then. I’ll call round. And then goodbye…forever.” The smile returned to her lips, with more conviction, then vanished as he face disappeared from the screen. Gino stared at the blankness, feeling numb.

  “She arrived just after nightfall,” Gino continued as Carol typed onto her laptop. “I can’t remember exactly when…I know it was well after six. She sat over there…” he pointed to the large leather chair in the corner, “…asked if my parents were out. I said they were…offered her a drink. She declined. She…she just sat there…staring at me. She had this…strange look of excitement. It was…” Gino drifted away for a moment, staring hard at the chair he’d indicated. Carol paused her typing. “…it was like a child, at the top of a helter-skelter…before they pluck up the courage to let go and come rushing down that impossibly long slide. I asked her…straight…what is it that’s so important you have to tell me? I wanted it to be over…wanted her gone…forever. And then she smiled. It was…cruel…yes, a cruel smile…almost…evil. That was when she told me – ‘I’ve killed our baby!’ Just like that…she said…” Gino again tasted the malevolence of her revelation. “…said ‘I’ve killed our baby…your child…your son!’ And then she sat back…just watching me…like a cat toying with a bird it’s captured. The coldness…her tone…it was like ice…like her eyes….cold. I asked her…when I could find my voice…I was shocked…as you can imagine…”

  “I can’t…” Carol still wasn’t typing. “I can’t imagine.”

  “I asked how she knew…knew that it was mine. Couldn’t it be his…more likely to be…or anyone else’s she’d been sleeping with behind my back…or was there even a child at all? Was she just making it up? I was…confused…upset. And then she said I didn’t have to believe her…I could get it DNA tested if I wanted, now she’d gone and killed it. She said it couldn’t be anyone else’s…that although she’d messed around with other men she’d never allowed anyone else’s sperm inside her…well, not her vagina, at least. She said…and I don’t think I can ever forget this…for as long as I live…she said that it was our epitaph…the epitaph to our relationship. She…” Gino was struggling to continue. “…she asked…if…I…would…like…to…paint…to…paint…my son…like I used to…paint…her. A portrait…to remember him by. He could…pose…” He broke down, his voice caught between a gurgle and a groan as grief ripped through him.

  “It’s OK…we can take a break…” Carol stood, wondering how to comfort him.

  “No…” Gino slowly gathered himself together, visibly fighting his emotions. “No…I need to go on…get this over with…done. I need this to be over.” She settled back into her seat, unsure if she should allow this to continue. “Of course…I didn’t realise…I didn’t know at that point…what she’d done…with…the…” He heaved a great sigh. “I can’t remember then…so clearly…I was in a bit of a state…shock…I…of course I asked why…why she hadn’t told me she was pregnant…why she’d got rid of it…him…and how. She said she’d wanted to tell me…had been trying to tell me but I wouldn’t take her calls or answer the door to her. I asked how long she’d known. She said she’d suspected for a while but wasn’t 100% sure until after I walked out on her…she knew then, and did the test to confirm. Then she said she knew she’d have to kill…my son…because…at first she thought he might bring us back together…but then…she realised that wouldn’t ever happen…and she thought I’d try and get the courts to take her baby away…award me custody…and she’d lose both of us. She said she couldn’t…wasn’t prepared to let that happen. So she took his life.”

  Gino pressed his face against his hands, remembering her final words: “I loved you. You wer
e the only one I ever really loved. But now…now I don’t feel anything. I can’t feel anything inside…just empty…hollow. It’s like I’ve gone to sleep inside but I’m still awake on the outside…like life has been ripped out from me and I’m the living dead. So this is my goodbye to you…my farewell gift. I wanted to share that feeling with you…to know how it feels to be so empty and lonely inside. I want you to share in my mourning for life lost…something you can never…ever…get back.”

  *

  “And in other news across the capital this morning, police have now charged a member of the outlawed British Nationalists following his arrest in Merthyr Tydfil in connection with a breakin at a city gunsmiths last night. Saverstore worker Ivan Berking has been remanded in custody. Four other members of the neo-Nazi gang were killed in exchanges of fire with armed police and a further gang member who fled the scene is still at large and said to be armed and dangerous. A student found dead at his Cardiff home following a suspected drugs overdose has been named as Fergus McFae, the only child of Angus McFae, one of the directors of the Community Monorail Shuttle, and well-known socialite and charity fundraiser Teresa McFae. A close friend has described their shock and grief at the tragic loss of their son. A post-mortem will be carried out later today to confirm the cause of death. And finally, the security guard who was injured in last night’s bizarre time capsule raid at the Metropolitan Museum, in which a police officer was accidentally killed, has given an exclusive interview to INB Cymru Tonight. That interview can be seen in full, together with more on the shocking foetus-on-the-wall story, including local reaction, at six tonight. Now, back to Eurostate Today with Ted Hallder…”