The Three of U.S.: A New Life in New York

‘You know what, I’m gonna give you a blood test, but it doesn’t sound to me as if you’re pregnant. Those shop tests are pretty accurate. How old are you?’ She glances down at one of the sheets I’ve filled in.

‘Thirty-six.’

She pulls a face, then shrugs. ‘Thirty-six? The female body starts winding down, hun. Tell you what I’m gonna do …’ And she takes a deep breath. ‘I’m gonna prescribe you Provera which you gotta take for seven full days, that’ll bring your period on, but don’t take it until we have the results of the blood test, just to be sure, OK? Go down the corridor and ask for Donna, the lab technician, she’ll take your blood and then call me on Thursday between 12.30 p.m. and 1.30 p.m., and we’ll give you the results, OK, oh and leave a urine sample too, if it’s negative, your system’s probably adjusting itself to being thirty-six; sorry but that’s the way the cookie crumbles, and you take the Provera.’ Another breath: ‘If it’s positive, well, you make another appointment to see an obstetrician.’

Down the corridor, Donna, the technician, snaps on skintight cream rubber gloves, ties a rubber tube round my left arm and flicks at my veins like I’ve seen junkies do in movies. ‘You do look a little peaky,’ she observes, withdrawing the needle with one hand and skilfully unpeeling a Band-Aid with the other. ‘Could be a sign. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for ya.’

Tuesday, 12 MayPeter

Our curiosity piqued by the outsize V sign in our view, Joanna has asked me to phone the Vault, which, she suggests, we should visit. I refuse. S&M is not really my scene. I am a coward. I treat pain as an enemy and go to great lengths to avoid humiliation.

‘But it’ll make a great story,’ she wheedles. She is always desperate for column ideas.

Later in the day, running short of work-displacement activities to divert myself from my book, I pick up the phone and dial the Vault.

‘Welcome to the Vault,’ says the earnestly perky male voice on the answering machine. ‘America’s most popular S&M club. Please listen to our upcoming attractions:

Friday is our bare buns contest;

Saturday is our foot fetish night;

Sunday is the finals of our bald beaver competition;

Monday is our popular schoolgirl evening;

Tuesday features hot-wax branding;

on Wednesday our weekly slave auction takes place;

join us Thursday for Shiatsu bondage;

and next Friday is our speciality dental ‘n’ head restraint.

We supper at the garage-like Café Braque, voted New York’s coolest summer hangout, full of slender models nibbling tiny organic mesclun leaves, and I tell Joanna of the varied fare offered by our neighbourhood club. ‘What do you fancy being entered for,’ I enquire. ‘Bare buns? Perhaps a little hot-wax branding?’

‘What really intrigues me,’ she confides, ‘is the speciality dental ‘n’ head restraint. What on earth could that be?’

Thursday, 14 MayJoanna

Though my period has still not arrived, all other symptoms have disappeared. I don’t feel sick and I’ve lost two lbs, but I spend the weekend imagining I may be pregnant. And, as my friends constantly remind me, I am thirty-six and it’s about time.

At exactly 12.35 p.m., as instructed, I phone Dr Beth’s number and am immediately plunged into another curse of contemporary America: voicemail hell.

‘Please listen to the following information BEFORE pressing your relevant number.

‘If you are an existing patient press one to hear a series of options.

‘If you are a new patient wishing to register with us, please have your insurance number ready to enter via your keypad.’

I press one.

‘If you need help with our fax number, website or e-mail address, press one followed by the pound sign.

‘If you would like to book an urgent appointment press two.

‘If you would like to make a routine appointment press three.

‘To cancel an appointment press four.

‘For all queries about billing or to review your account press five.

‘For all other enquiries press six.’

I press six.

‘To book a pap-smear test press one.

‘To receive results of a recent pap-smear test only, press two; do not press this number if you require results from any other test.

‘To book a hospital appointment needing your doctor’s consent press three.

‘To change the date or time of a hospital appointment press four.

‘To request a repeat prescription press five.

‘To request a new prescription press six.

‘To request information for legal reasons which may be confidential from your personal file, press seven.

‘All those needing to speak with an operator press eight and stay on the line.’

I press eight to be greeted by a short burst of Barbra Streisand singing ‘Evergreen’, quickly interrupted by another message.

‘Thank you for calling. All our operators are busy. Please call back later. Our office hours are from 9.30 a.m. until 5 p.m.’

I phone back again. And again, swearing as I hit the redial button. Would it be quicker to walk there? At 1.28 p.m. I finally get through and ask for Donna, the technician.

‘Hello, Jo-wanna,’ she says, uncertainly. ‘How you doin’ today?’

‘Oh fine. I was just calling to get my results from the blood tests on Friday.’

‘Right, just hang on, Joanna, I’m gonna get Dr Beth to explain them to ya. Stay right where y’are.’ And before I can say anything I hear her pick up another receiver. ‘Dr Beth? Ya gotta minute? I got Joanna Coles on the line, you said to call you when she got through?’

‘Hi, Joanna,’ says Dr Beth. ‘It’s not good news I’m afraid.’

I feel my insides deflate.

‘To be honest with you, hun, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, you’re certainly something – but it’s not pregnant. We need you to come back and have another blood test. Can you come in soon, like this afternoon?’