Where There's Smoke

Kate hammered away on the treadmill, trying to burn away some of her anger and disgust. Her emotional landscape was clouded enough as it was after the visit to the clinic. She was still unable to reconcile herself to the idea of becoming pregnant by someone she knew virtually nothing about. She had tried telling herself that there was no option, that if she was serious about having a child she would be happy to abide by the clinic’s rules, and the clinic’s choice. But she couldn’t accept that, either.

The running machine beeped as the programmed time elapsed. She stabbed at the touchpad again, reducing the speed until she was running at a gentle jog. She continued for a few more minutes at that pace, then gradually slowed the treadmill to a stop and stepped off. Her breathing was deep and heavy, but not laboured. She went to the water cooler and drank two paper cupfuls before going into the changing room and stripping off her sweat-soaked leotard.

The shower jets peppered her face as she held it up to the spray. She waited until it stung, then turned off the stream and went into the wooden box of the sauna.

The dry heat wrapped itself over her like a hot towel. The scorched air, spicy with the smell of baked pine, pricked the inside of her nose when she breathed. Another woman was sitting on the lower of the three benches, sweat running off her. She offered Kate a smile as she closed the door and stepped up to the highest bench. Kate returned it and spread her towel on the hot slats before she sat down.

The heat bore into her. She settled back, gingerly letting her shoulders touch the hot wooden panelling. Almost immediately she could feel the water from the shower dry on her skin, and be replaced with perspiration. Through the wall, she could feel the pulse of a distant generator. Other than that, the sauna was dark and silent, separate from the world outside. She closed her eyes and let herself drift.

“Best part of it, this, isn’t it?”

Kate opened her eyes and gave the woman an acknowledging smile, but said nothing. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation. The woman, though, apparently was.

“Do you mind if I put some water on the stones?”

Kate opened her eyes again. “No, go ahead.”

The woman rose from the bench and went to the wooden bucket by the brazier. She took the ladle from it and poured water on the hot grey rocks. Steam gushed from them with a hiss, and Kate felt a wave of heat hit her. The woman sat down again on the lower bench. She was about Kate’s age but heavily built, with large, low-hanging breasts and a loose, flabby stomach. When she leaned back, Kate saw the red striations of stretch marks running across her belly.

“Two more minutes and I think I’m done,” the woman said, amiably. She puffed out her cheeks and wiped a strand of damp hair from her forehead. “You feel as if you’ve sweated about a stone off just from sitting here, don’t you?”

“I wish,” Kate said. The woman glanced at her and cocked an eyebrow.

“You don’t look as though you need to.” She patted her stomach. The flesh of it wobbled like suet. “It’s when you get one of these that you’ve got to worry. I was expecting to snap back into shape after I’d given birth.” She grinned. “Fat chance.”

“What did you have? A girl or boy?” Kate’s disinclination to talk had vanished. She tried to keep her eyes on the woman’s face, but the flaccid stomach held a morbid fascination for her.

“Both. Twins, six months old, now. We’d got it all planned, we were going to wait until we were thirty and then just have one.” She chuckled. “So much for planning. And to add insult to injury I’ve got this as a reminder.” She nodded down at the folds of flesh. “They call it an apron, would you believe? The doctors have told me I can have plastic surgery, but I thought I’d try and work it off first. I feel like telling everybody, ‘I’m not really fat! This isn’t my fault!’” She laughed again. “Well, I suppose it is. Serves me right for having kids in the first place. I just wish they’d warned me I could end up looking like this. I might have had second thoughts.”

“Do you think you would? Really?” Kate asked. She felt a twinge of unease, not so much from the idea of her own body changing, as the thought of regret afterwards.

The woman wiped sweat from her forehead. “No, not really. You know what you’re getting into, don’t you? But if I were you I’d make the most of a flat stomach while you’ve got it. It’s never the same afterwards, I don’t care what anyone says.”

She stopped and suddenly regarded Kate. “Don’t tell me you have got kids?”

Kate was glad her face was already flushed from the heat. “No. Not yet.”

The woman laughed again. “Thank goodness for that. I’d have thought life really was unfair then!”

She stood up. Her stomach hung in front of her like a deflated beachball. “Well, that’s enough for me. Bye.”