and say nothing instead of attempting to garner an undercurrent of bitchy gossip at the school gate?
I suppose I brought most of this on myself; I could have said absolutely nothing — so do I regret telling anyone? I don’t think so … There is nothing quite like having a few close girlfriends to share the excitement, wonder and emotion of the wild rollercoaster of a ride I have been on in the past couple of months, even though I have to be deliberately evasive of the details, for obvious reasons. To be honest, they have helped keep me sane and I love them for that. I doubt they would believe my version of reality in any case, I find it difficult myself. One thing about becoming a mum is that you are forced to deal with the most judgemental species on the planet — other mothers. From breastfeeding and food to toilet training and discipline, no one is ever short of an opinion. Once you become a mother it is as if you have a god-given right to share your experience and knowledge with newer, less practised mothers who you feel are in desperate and urgent need of your extensive fountain of knowledge — I don’t deny I have been known to venture into this category myself on occasion. So we share our all-encompassing sage advice to both enhance our own egos (and reinforce to ourselves that we are on the correct parenting path) and of course, to help each other feel better about our own struggles and pitfalls. That said, I don’t believe there is a group in society who will provide you with more support when you need it but it comes, at times, with the cost of some hefty judgement calls.
I keep getting flashes of the many mothers who come to my office emotionally distraught and in need of coping mechanisms to deal with the interpersonal shenanigans of motherhood that no one prepares them for. And now I find myself on the receiving end of their hidden voices questioning whether or not I’m a still a good mother. Apparently I was before my week away, but now? Who knows … and I’m making things worse by leaving again, this time going to London for a fortnight — with that man! How do I live with myself? Obviously this must constitute being a very bad mother, mustn’t it, even if it is for work? I wonder whether the judgements would be any less severe if I was going on a 10-day yoga retreat with some girlfriends for a bit of well earned rest and relaxation from the daily grind of parenthood. Would that make my choice any easier for others to swallow? I know deep in my heart that I’m a great mum and that I love my children unconditionally, as they do me. They tell me daily I’m ‘awesome’, which must count for something.
The fathers, on the other hand, have been supportive of Robert although I’m not sure whether they know about his desire to explore his homosexual tendencies. Would that perhaps change things? I’m pleased he will be taking some time for himself when I return home from this trip, I think it will be just what he needs before embarking on the next phase of his life. Imagine the gossip if another man moved in … Scandalous! I chuckle at the thought. Either way, that is his business and I will respect his privacy as to ‘if’ and ‘when’ he decides to discuss his change in lifestyle with others.
I shake my head to clear it from all this circular thinking — it’s entirely a waste of time to dwell on other people’s attitudes. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion; it’s just the way in which it is shared that has me miffed.
I have a few spare minutes before my flight will be called for boarding and I become more or less incommunicado for the long flight to London, with only a short stopover in Singapore. I decide to make the most of it and take a photo of the decadence before me and send it to Jeremy as a sort of ‘thanks for my new life’ message with lots of hugs and kisses. A few sips later, my phone rings and it’s him.
‘Hi, this is a surprise.’
‘Hi, sweetheart. God, I can’t wait to see you.’ His voice is deep and sends a delightful shiver through me.
‘Hmm, likewise.’ It feels like eons since his magic hands have touched my skin.
‘I’m pleased you’re enjoying the first-class lounge.’
‘I am, but it would be far more pleasant sharing it with you.’
‘Not too long to wait now, I should be arriving in London about twelve hours after you; I’m travelling with Sam.’
‘Oh, he’s with you? That’s great.’ I can’t help but think it might be a little strange meeting Professor Samuel Webster for the first time since the experiment. He had been my PhD examiner and over time had become more like an academic father than a mentor. Over the past year or so, his research team has been focused on female sexology in the field of neuroscience, which is how he ended up connecting with Jeremy and the Global Research Forum. I shift uncomfortably at the thought of him knowing what I have done … and what I had done to me. But there’s not much I can do about it now except try to remain as professional as possible in these unusual circumstances and deep down, I know he will do the same in return. It wouldn’t bother me if I were analysing someone else’s results, so I resolve to take that approach in my mind.
‘There’s so much to catch up on, Alexa. We’ve made some astonishing advances in the last month, it’s getting really exciting.’
‘You sound excited,’ I smile. ‘I can’t wait either and I have a few questions for you too.’
‘No doubt you do, Alexa.’ His voice reverberates in my ear as my butt tingles in recognition of the meaning behind his words. Oh no, not when I’m on the phone, how would I explain that? I need to focus on something else to distract the flow of memories and their physical effects once again disabling me in public.
‘I haven’t received any documents yet, Jeremy. Should I have? I want to be as prepared as possible when I arrive.’
‘No, nothing yet, I’d rather go through everything with you in person. Just relax and enjoy your time. You’ll be busy enough when you get here, I promise you.’
I hear my flight being called for boarding.
‘Have to go, they’re calling my flight so I’d better get moving.’
‘No worries, AB. It’s great to hear your voice.’
‘I can’t wait to see you again, Jeremy, it feels like forever.’ Warmth floods my groin.
‘I know, sweetheart … well, not long now. You’re still wearing the bracelet?’
‘Of course.’ It’s not like I can take it off. I glance down at the silver bracelet embedded with pink diamonds and fitted with a GPS chip encircling my wrist.
‘Good, I love knowing where you are.’ I roll my eyes but he can’t see me.
‘Maybe you should get one made for yourself so I can keep track of you and your jetsetting lifestyle.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that, we’ll see.’ He chuckles, then adds seriously, ‘Far more important that I know you’re safe and secure.’ Back in protective mode, which I have to admit makes me feel rather cherished.
‘Love you, gotta go, final call.’
‘Okay.’ He sounds reluctant to finish the call, as am I. ‘See you tomorrow night and promise me you’ll keep out of trouble.’
‘When do I ever get into any trouble, unless I’m with you?’
‘Alex!’ he admonishes me and then quickly adds, ‘Love you, too.’ I sense his smile all those miles away. ‘Later, sweetheart. Stay safe.’ And he’s gone. I stare at the phone as if in a daze before the final, final boarding call distracts me from my reverie. Unfortunately, with changes in time zones and my increasingly
