The Happiness Show (16 page)

‘So I came in this morning to have the ultrasound. I'm thirteen weeks or so and Cam said he might not be able to come because he had some meeting and that was fine because they give you a DVD of the scan to take home. So I lay on the bed and the woman started scanning around and she said, “We've got one heartbeat, and there's the other heartbeat.” And I thought, Shit, the kid's got two hearts. That can't be good. And then I realised she was telling me that there were two of them and I was having twins and I was stunned but really happy and I thought, I can't wait to tell Cam, because Cam has always secretly wanted to be a twin. So anyway the woman keeps scanning and she's merrily chatting away and I'm thinking, That's why I've been so sick, and then I'm thinking, We'll probably have to move and get two car seats and a double stroller and the whole shebang.
I'm thinking that they'll be sharing a birthday and then I realise she has gone very quiet and looks very serious. And then she says, “I'll be back in a moment.” I'm thinking it can't be that bad, there are two heartbeats, and then I started thinking that it's Siamese twins. And I think, I'll love them. I don't care. They are my babies and I'll love them. I was lying there getting this weird feeling, looking up at the screen where it said “Julia Fleming OBSTETRICS.” I was just staring at it, rubbing my belly, saying, “Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” I'm lying there and I can hear in the next room a little boy and his parents and the ultrasound woman is saying, “So do you want to find out if you're getting a brother or a sister?” and the little boy says, “Yeah!” and the woman says, “Let me see … a little girl! So you are getting a little sister!” And the parents sound really excited and the kid completely cracks it and says, “I wanted a little brother. I hate girls.” And he starts screaming like he's being stabbed. Then this woman comes into my cubicle and explains that she is a doctor and she has some very bad news for me and can I please follow her to the quiet room. So I do and she sits me down and tells me that the twins won't live because I have this thing called a mole and one has cancer and will give it to the other.'

‘What?'

‘I know. So one of them has this thing called a partial mole, which is a cancer thing. Kind of a chromosomal stuff-up, so you end up with a baby that is half fetus, half cancer and the other baby is normal but if the cancer hasn't already spread to it, it will, and if I don't terminate both of them now, I could get cancer too.'

‘What? This is bullshit. I've never heard of this before. How did it happen? But you don't have cancer. This is bullshit. Let's get a second opinion. And anyway, where's Cam?'

At that moment a tall blond doctor walked in wearing operating scrubs and holding Jules's file. ‘Julia Fleming?'

‘Yes?'

‘Hello. I'm Dr James Campbell. Didn't you go to Carey Grammar?'

‘Ah, yes.'

‘I was in the same year as your brother, Richard.'

‘Oh. Hi,' responded Jules, unenthused. ‘This is my friend Lizzie.'

When he turned to her, Lizzie recognised him instantly. It was James of the wedgie. James from Para on the Yarra. James who had pashed her for a dare. He looked at her and a wave of recognition swept across his face.

‘I know you. Lizzie Quealy, right?'

Lizzie felt her face turning hot and red.

‘We saw your show in the comedy festival. The one about happiness. My wife is a huge fan of yours. Very good it was.' James stared into space and chuckled to himself. ‘I loved that line, now what was it? The difference between men and women is that women want to spoon and men want to fork. Very funny. Anyway, Julia. I'm head of gyn-oncology and I've had a look at your ultrasound and it seems you have a condition called gestational trophoblastic disease or hydatidiform mole. Now, this is not all that rare, but it is extremely rare for it to coexist with a viable fetus. Have they explained it to you?

‘Kind of. But I don't understand.' Jules blew her nose and Lizzie took her hand, for her own comfort as much as for Jules's.

‘I'm not surprised. We don't completely understand it either. It's quite a phenomenon. What has happened at fertilisation is basically a chromosomal malfunction. There are two kinds of gestational trophoblastic disease; you can have either a full mole or a partial mole. With a full mole, instead of getting a placenta and a baby, you just get a very large placenta that multiplies very fast and looks like a bunch of grapes. But you have a partial mole, and in your case what you've ended up with is a mole that does have fetal tissue and an abnormal placenta.

‘Now, this can occur in one of two ways. In some cases, it happens when there is no genetic information within the egg cell. When the sperm fertilises the egg, it duplicates its own chromosomes and instead of twenty-three from the father and twenty-three from the mother, you end up with two sets from the father. The other way it occurs is when two sperm fertilise the same egg at the same time.

‘With a full mole, because you have a chromosomally abnormal placenta, there is a high production of the placental hormone Beta hCG, which accounts for the positive pregnancy tests and the extreme nausea and exhaustion. It's like having the side effects of a twin or triplet pregnancy. But in your case you really do have a twin pregnancy: one is a partial mole and the other one is a normal baby.

‘Now, a partial mole is not a viable pregnancy and it always passes away in the uterus. Rarely, as in your case, a normal fetus may also coexist with a molar pregnancy. I know this is a lot to take in and it's quite complicated. Would you like to ask any questions?'

‘Yes,' said Jules, sitting up straight. ‘Why is it called a mole and what has cancer got to do with it?'

‘Good question. What cancer has to do with it is that it can travel through the bloodstream and cause tumours in other parts of the body, particularly in the lungs. In your case the molar tissue from the partial mole is more than likely to spread to the viable fetus and could possibly create tumours in you.'

There was a silence. A big silence. Then Jules finally spoke. ‘So what do we do now?'

James sat down on the side of the bed and put his hand on her arm. You could tell good news wasn't coming. ‘It's a case of damage control, really. The molar fetus will not live and it's only a matter of time until the cancer spreads to the viable fetus. There is then a strong possibility that it could also spread to you. It probably hasn't yet, but the bottom line is that our only option is to give you a curette as soon as possible.'

‘An abortion?'

‘Yes.'

‘Can't you give me chemo or something?'

‘That is not an option. I've scheduled you for a curette at three this afternoon.' James flicked through Jules's file and then spoke jerkily. ‘I'll leave you to speak with your … partner about this.'

A second's confusion gave way to the realisation that James thought Lizzie and Jules were lesbians.

‘Oh,' said Lizzie. ‘Her husband will be here any second.'

And as if on cue, Cam erupted through the door, all briefcase, silk tie and shiny shoes.

 

‘Happiness is about what you want, not what you have. Rich is the man who is content with what he has.'

‘Thank you for your time, Venerable Nyanaponika Maha Thera. Before we finish up, can you tell me what your Buddhist name means?'

‘Nyanaponika means Gracious Knowledge,' said the monk.

‘And cut. That's a wrap,' called Keith, who walked over to the monk and held out his hand to shake it. The monk put his hands together in a prayer position and Keith awkwardly copied him. ‘Thanks very much. Sorry about bumping you this morning, couldn't be avoided. Now, I have a donation for the monastery …'

‘Please leave it in the box out the front, my friend. Can I get a copy of the interview for my mum?'

‘Certainly, Venerable One. Consider it sorted.' Keith turned to Lizzie as the monk wandered off. She was sure he was going to take the piss as soon as the man was out of earshot. ‘Makes a lot of sense, this Buddhism caper. Apart from being a vegetarian, that is. If I was going to be into any mumbo jumbo, this would be the one for sure.'

‘I think it's a perfect religion for you, Keithy. You're halfway there already.' Lizzie nodded at his bald head.

‘Shocking stuff about your mate. So she's going to have a bit of a spring clean, then?'

‘They wanted her to have it today. But she wants to bide her time a bit and see if there's any hope for the viable baby. She's been trying for so long, she's not going to have it terminated without looking at every possible option. You know what it's like, you've had IVF.'

‘Oh, yeah. It can get pretty desperate after a while. So listen, Lizzie, up for a beer?'

‘Sorry, Keith, I've got to pick the kids up from childcare. Jim's sick.'

‘Tell him I said he's a pussy. Why don't you drop over tonight?'

‘I promised Jules I'd go over tonight.'

‘Can we catch up on the weekend?'

‘Catch up on what, Keith? One day?' Lizzie realised she sounded a little rude and it dawned on her that he might be a touch lonely. ‘Listen, I'm going to a Peter Sellers marathon on Sunday night, if you want to tag along.'

‘Sounds great! Who are you going with?

‘On my Pat Malone.'

‘What time?'

‘I'll pick you up at seven.'

 

Lizzie tapped her ring on the steering wheel as she idled at Punt Road, listening to the click of her indicators. She thought about Keith. It must be hard for him, being away from his family. He must be missing them terribly.

 

*

 

I think Keith's a bit lonely, to tell you the truth, so I'm taking him to a Peter Sellers marathon on Sunday night.

 

If that doesn't cheer him up nothing will. God, I wish I could come with you.
Dr Strangelove
is probably my all-time favourite film.

 

I'm more of a
Party
person.

 

I would have picked you for a
Pink Panther
fan, myself. Becky's alright. She has a day nanny, a night nanny and a housekeeper and she's also terribly capable. So I don't think she's doing it too hard. Not like poor old Jules. Give her my best, will you?

 

Your best what?

 

Ha, ha.

 

I will. I promise. Oh shit, I forgot to tell you. Jules told me Sophie died. Did you know? Jules still gets Christmas cards from one of her cousins.

 

Shit. I knew she was sick but I didn't know she'd died. I'll send her parents a card. What a bloody waste. Sophie dead and Jeffrey Archer still alive, go figure. She was a really great girl. You don't think it was my fault, do you?

 

I wouldn't put it past you.

Hey, remember how we used to call people who stayed in five-star resorts wankers? Well, guess who's become a wanker? I've booked a holiday in Bali for after the shoot. We're staying at a place called the Shangri-La. I think the name means ‘paradise' in Hindi. Either that or ‘clip joint.'

Jim and I have never been overseas together and I reckon I deserve a holiday after working with Keith for two months. Since that two-hour stopover in Singapore on the way to Blighty I haven't been able to get Asia out of my system.

Look, Tom, I have to go. I promised Jules I'd drop over.

 

I wonder if it's the same Shangri-La we stayed at about five years ago. If so, you'll love it: peaceful, beautiful, exotic. Slaves on hand 24/7, as the Americans would say. And they only cost a couple of cents. Send me a postcard.

I'm away for the weekend, en famille. We're off to Sussex. It's my cousin's kid's birthday. I'll be back Monday night.

 

Is that cousin Kate whose wedding I went to?

 

Yes, that's right. What an incredible night that was.

 

God, that was the most amazing wedding I've ever been to. It was like a fairytale.

 

Well, it didn't work. They've been divorced for five years. Harvey had a nasty problem with drinking, which led to a nasty problem with going the thump on Kate. Ugly stuff. But she's through all that now and she got a couple of great kids out of it, Quincy and Ambrose.

 

Well I never. Got to go. Any chance we will ever speak to each other?

 

Who knows. To tell you the truth, I like the email thing. It seems more intimate.

 

Me too. Bye.

 

More later xxx

 

*

 

By Saturday Jim was feeling better and they spent the weekend doing chores and pushing the kids on the swing. Jim cooked up his famous Moroccan lamb and took it around to Jules with a six pack for Cam.

When he came back it was past noon. The kids were both asleep and Lizzie was lying on the bed, reading the papers. Jim took his pants off and swept the sea of newsprint to the ground.

When Lizzie looked up at him, she felt a faint sense of dread. Not only did she have no libido when it came to anyone other than Tom, but she had already made herself come twice that morning while Jim was out and the kids were napping.

She looked over her glasses. ‘And what do we have here? A new stand for the paper towels?'

Jim pulled her towards him and started kissing her. ‘C'mon, Liz. The kids are asleep and I couldn't stop thinking about you all morning.'

‘Can I just finish reading this review?'

And suddenly everything went cold. Jim stood up, pulled his pants on and stormed out. She'd never seen such anger from him. Come to think of it, she'd barely seen any anger from Jim.

Lizzie followed him to the shed. ‘Hey, what's wrong?' she asked, white with fear.

‘Oh, you've got nothing left for me anymore. So busy with your series. I'm just the fucking Astronaut's Wife, that's what I am. Cooking, cleaning, picking up the kids. I feel like a fucking slave. It's that fucking English guy.'

The blood drained from Lizzie's face. ‘What?' she managed to splutter. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Don't play stupid. All I hear about is “Keith this,” “Keith that,” “Keith pulled a rabbit out of his hat.”' Jim started mixing up some plaster. Lizzie was shocked. And relieved.

‘Keith? Are you suggesting that I've got a thing for Keith? Are you serious? You are way off, mate. I'm sorry if you're feeling neglected.'

There was a moment's silence between them.

‘Well, I'm not happy about it, but I am,' snapped Jim.

‘What is it that you want, Jim?'

Jim thought for a moment. ‘Just a bit of you, Lizzie. Just a bit of you.'

 

Lizzie pulled up outside Keith's serviced apartment in East Melbourne. She left the engine running while she buzzed his room number.

‘Alright, Lizzie?' said his voice through the speaker.

‘Put your pants on. I'm downstairs. I'll wait in the car.' While she waited, she twisted the rear-view mirror around and slapped on some lipstick.

‘Sorry, Lizzie.' Keith plonked himself down in the passenger seat. ‘Had to pay the hookers and clean up the cocaine before I left.'

‘Me too, but I still managed to be on time.'

‘No need to be so spiky. You smell lovely. What are you wearing?'

‘Rexona. And fish fingers.'

As they drove to the cinema, Lizzie gave Keith the latest about Jules.

Jules had decided, despite the potential danger to her life, to let nature take its course. She'd surfed the net and discovered that viable fetuses had indeed survived despite existing in utero with a partial mole. You can prove anything you want on the internet. Sure, there hadn't been many, but she was prepared to give it a red-hot go. Cam wasn't happy. At all. The more specialists, machines and drugs with unpronounceable names involved the more comfortable he would be. But the thing about Jules was, she believed nothing was impossible. There was, in Jules's mind, an answer to everything. You just had to find it.

‘Jesus, Lizzie, that's so fucking wild. It's like a horror movie.' Lizzie and Keith were walking into the glorious old cinema, all hazy, golden and deco, with their choc tops, popcorn and the beers Lizzie had stashed in her bag. ‘She should sell the rights. It reminds me of this condition I read about once, called a chimera. This woman had to have a kidney transplant and in order to find a match they did a DNA test on her kids, you know, who were grown up. And they found that they weren't biologically hers.'

‘I don't get it.'

‘Of course you don't, you impatient slag, I haven't finished. The thing is, she conceived them, she carried them and she gave birth to them, but they weren't biologically hers, because of this thing called a chimera. She'd had a twin sister in utero who died, right?'

‘The woman who needed the kidney transplant?'

‘Right. And she absorbed her sister or ate her or some shit and she was carrying her own DNA but also the dead sister's. So some of her kids were biologically hers but some were biologically the twin's.'

‘You're doing my head in, Keith.' Lizzie was trying to twist the top off a beer in silence. ‘Fancy a cleansing ale, mate?'

‘Let me finish my ice-cream first, Lizzie. I'm not a barbarian.'

‘Oh, well, someone has gone all fancy.' Lizzie pried off the lid and necked the bottle.

‘So chimeras are probably far more common than people think but no one ever finds out.'

‘So are you telling me that my kids might not be mine?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘Keith,' whispered Lizzie as the cinema dimmed and
Dr Strangelove
started, ‘if only you could use your powers for good.'

Three and a half hours, two choc tops, four beers, two movies and a bucket of popcorn later, they tumbled out into the cool night and Lizzie wished she'd brought a cardigan. Suddenly it was autumn. The best time of year to be in Melbourne: warm, still days, blue skies, golden light and cool nights. The best time of year unless you were wearing a summer dress. Soon it would be all risotto, tights, sticky-date pudding, scarves, soup, woollen hats and swimming in 8-degree water.

‘Did I tell you that we're off to Asia, Keith?'

‘I fucking love Asia. I was thinking of a stopover on the way home. Where are you off to?'

‘Sanur, in Bali. Place called the Shangri-La.'

‘Now who's getting fancy? Shangri-La-di-da.' Keith thought for a second. ‘Hang on. Why does that name ring a bell?'

‘Name of one of your hookers?'

‘No …' And then it dawned on him. ‘Your old mate Tom and his missus stayed there a few years ago. When their little one was still a baby.'

One beer too many made Lizzie almost say, ‘Yeah, I know, I got an email from him the other day.' Just in time she caught herself and muttered, ‘Is that right?'

Lizzie felt so relaxed with Keith, she had almost told him about her and Tom a few times. As they were as horny young backpackers, not as they were now.

‘Yeah, I'm sure it was the Shangri-La. Taking the kids?'

‘Absolutely. The whole catastrophe. It's one of those five-star places with a kids' club and all. Here you go, Keith.' They had pulled up outside his place. ‘I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be late but I'll bring the coffee.'

‘Do you want to come up?' asked Keith, a little coyly.

‘It's almost one o'clock, mate. Some of us have to work tomorrow.'

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry. Of course. Tomorrow, then.'

Lizzie drove off into the night thinking of Tom.

Keith went inside and had a wank thinking of Lizzie.

And then he called his wife.

‘Alright then, Becky? Down Under Keith calling. How's it all going there, my lovely?'

‘Well, Spensley's got a cold and Marcus is teething but nothing that I and the nannies and grannies can't handle. Where have you been? I called before.'

‘Out with a mate from work. A Peter Sellers marathon.'

‘A Peter Sellers telethon?'

‘No, marathon. That's funny, though.' He switched into the voice of a telethon host. ‘
Call now to help victims of Peter Sellers Syndrome. Dig deep and give that they may do Birdie Num Nums impersonations
.' They both laughed. ‘Listen, Becky, I've got an idea. We finish up here in two weeks. How would you feel about a couple of weeks in the far east?'

‘But I'm still breastfeeding.'

‘Bring the tykes. I was thinking it might be fun to check out that place in Bali where Tom and Felicity went. The Shangri-La.'

‘God, Keith, you've got a good memory. Sounds wonderful. I suppose the only real worry would be the plane with the kids.'