183 Times a Year by Eva Jordan Read Free Book Online Page A

one-man argument.
    â€˜ I mean
not
having a baby takes planning and intelligence,’ he states in a voice that always seems too high for his build but never more so of late due to his ever increasing physical demeanour. He was never particularly slim but he’s let himself go a bit recently and definitely carries his share of middle age spread.
    I look across at Ruby. Her grin is impish. She rolls her eyes but seems content to sit this one out. She drinks greedily from her wine glass then excuses herself from the table in search of more.
    â€˜Do you know the teenage pregnancy rate is so high in this country we are now officially the worst in Europe. It’s a disgrace,’ Andy continues, safe in his knowledge of statistics.
    Who comes up with these bloody stats anyway?
    I sigh heavily.
    â€˜So you want to bring in mass sterilisation do you Andy? State interference in women’s reproductive lives? Did you – do you – even read your history books? You’re an educated man. Don’t you realise how far women have come in the western world and how fragile that progress is? You must have
some
idea of the struggles of women to get to a place where we finally have some control; or at least some choice about our own bodies?’
    I feel my anger escalate within me. It’s a small but intense heat rising rapidly from the pit of my stomach.
    I stare at Andy and marvel at how my dislike of someone’s bigoted point of view manifests itself as an aversion to his or her physical flaws. What I would usually see as a minor physical imperfection – and certainly of no consequence under normal circumstances – suddenly appears positively grotesque. In Andy’s case it’s his stomach I’ve focused on. His visceral fat, bloated, pot-bellied, beer-guzzling gut protrudes far more than mine ever did during both my pregnancies. His abdominal obesity is, if only for that moment, as offensive to me as his smug attitude.
    â€˜ So you like the idea of eugenics?’ I continue. ‘Why don’t you just start preaching Mein Kampf, establish a few concentration camps and be done with it?’ My intonation is curt but controlled. ‘Why does everyone blame the underdog, the weaker members of society for our country’s problems?’
    The room is uncomfortably quiet for a moment. I should leave it at that but I can’t.
    â€˜Free money,’ I state. Andy looks puzzled.
    â€˜What do you mean free money?’
    â€˜That’s what Amber, one of the young women that visit’s the library a lot, equates having a baby will provide.’
    A look of triumph flashes across Andy’s eyes. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. So they’re
not
controlling their bodies are they? They’re churning out kid after kid and expecting the state to foot the bill.’
    â€˜Do you know why Amber sees having a baby as access to free money?’ I continue; my exterior voice far calmer than my internal one. ‘Because she lives in a system that’s set up to fail her.’
    Andy nearly chokes on his wine. ‘How does free money, which is made up of
my
taxes incidentally, fail her?’ he snorts.
    â€˜Because,’ I reply, inhaling deeply. ‘If Amber’s been through and seen half of what she says she has in her 17 years then that’s far too much for any one lifetime. Right from the word go, the people that should have loved and cared for her abused her. The system set up to protect her from those abusers failed to do so.
    Now, add to that an absent father unwilling to pay a penny towards her upbringing and Amber is the end product. What about mass sterilisation for absent fathers then eh?’
    Andy opens his mouth to speak but changes his mind again. ‘Then of course there’s her education. Have you noticed how it’s always those that have nothing that fall through the safety net? If the same amount of time was given to