Dark Lullaby by Polly Ho-Yen (the gingerbread man read aloud TXT) 📗

for the rest of the day, although I could not shift the memory from my mind – of Tia’s newly smiling face and her mother’s delighted smile back at her.

I sensed that Marie both ached and was reluctant for company and so often when dropping the shopping off, I would bring other things with me for us to share, a couple of decaffeinated coffees, a bag of pastries, excuses for us to spend a few moments together. After the first few times I did this, I could see that she was expecting it. She might have a teapot brewing or be grinding coffee beans, ready for when I dropped off the bags. Over time, we spent longer and longer together.

We came to trust one another.

We told each other things that we tried to hide from others.

‘Sometimes I feel like I am playing being a mother,’ she admitted to me one day. Tia was gurgling to herself on her playmat just to the side of us, reaching out for one of the fabric toys that hung above her, batting it to the side and making it spin. ‘Like it’s not really real, you know? It’s a sort of game. I mean I didn’t think I would ever get through induction. I never thought that I would actually do it, in fact. I was an out. It’s why we’re living here.’

She shifted uncomfortably. We’d never spoken about my situation before.

‘I’m not sure I ever want to do it,’ I admitted, filling the silence that had built up between us.

‘That’s just how I felt,’ Marie said. ‘But I was working for a conglomerate and I couldn’t go any higher even though I knew that I could do a far better job than all of the men that were being promoted above me. I was good at it. I even started doing more work for the same money – just because I wanted to, because I knew that I could do it well. I’d reached the ceiling for out income. And then… well, they started giving me the worst work, the work that no one else could be bothered to do. My boss was completely incompetent. Most of the time I was just trying to cover for him. Leo encouraged me to leave, to try anything else. And so I did. I started over in a different company. And basically the same thing happened again. I couldn’t keep doing it over and over.

‘This time, Leo suggested we start induction. I didn’t want to do it at first. But then I had no other choice. I mean, that came out wrong, it wasn’t that Leo forced me into it. I just… I couldn’t see another way.’

I felt my breath grow tight in my chest. What Marie was saying was too close to the thoughts that would spiral through my mind in the early mornings when sleep seemed impossible. Though I didn’t want to have a child, what with the cap on my earnings and my low housing credits, the mutterings and pointed remarks, I was starting to feel more and more pressure. We were often told on the Spheres about how different inductions were in the UK compared to the rest of the world. About pubescent girls, children themselves, forced into induction camps abroad. Or women dying after mandatory induction after induction. Here, we still had to opt in. The custodians claimed that because women can choose, our induction rate is supposedly one of the highest in the world. And yet, the reality was it didn’t feel like a choice at all. It felt like we were all slowly being pushed down this route, whether we wanted to or not.

I forced my thoughts back to Marie; words continued to spill from her as though it were a relief or some kind of confession.

‘We started. And then it was like before I knew what was happening, we were in the middle of it. It was a bit like a dream that I couldn’t wake up from.

‘Suddenly things were moving so fast. I’d started on the drugs, I was barely able to function when I was taking them. I couldn’t see to the other end of it, even what it was that we were doing it for. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it, with everything we see on the Spheres? And now that we’re here, now that we actually made it, I’m not doing it very well. I’m just playing at being a mum, pretending – it’s not for real.’

‘It must be incredibly overwhelming. I’ve had the same sort of feeling in the past, that I’m pretending to be something. A lot of people do. What’s that thing that people say – fake it till you make it. There’s truth in that, I think.’

‘But I see other mothers in the street. They seem so put together. They’re always so certain, so sure of what they are doing. I’d rather not see anyone but it’s discouraged. I’ve heard you can get an IPS for being too socially isolated and so I force myself to go to this playgroup every week. Everyone there is just so confident. And it’s like they could smell it on me that I was unsure, one of them started sprouting all this advice. She insisted on taking my goSphere and sending me all these articles. I’m sure she meant well but it just made me feel completely inadequate and also angry, you know. Everyone else is more than coping, they’re excelling.’

‘Are they, though? Remember you are just seeing the outside view, not what they are thinking or feeling. And that woman who started giving you advice like that – she sounds like she was overcompensating to me. Maybe everyone is hiding how they really feel.’

‘I’m trying my best. But what if it’s not enough? I’m just so sure…’ Marie began to cry. She let the tears roll down her cheeks unchecked. Then she sat up straighter and wiped her face. She stared hard into the distance