The Keeper

The Rug Pulled Out

Dear M

It was the final term of my last year at St Hibbert's. We had done our coursework, and we had just finished our last exams. All we had left to do were interviews with our coursework assessors. But the serious studying was over and we were elated. My mates and I went out on a bit of a bender, going from pub to pub and then on to a club. We bumped into some girls we vaguely knew. My friend Robert fancied the taller, more glamorous one, and I was left with her friend, Kristina. I knew Kristina because she was in my art history class. She had asked me out several times the year before, but I had put her off, saying I already had a girlfriend (that wasn't strictly true, though I had a few friends I went out with who were girls!). She wasn't bad looking, but she disguised the looks she had with a lot of make-up, bleached blond hair and ever-changing outfits that were the fashion, I guess. The few conversations I'd had with her had been cut short because art was the only thing we had in common but she hated 'talking shop'. Robert asked her what she was planning to do when she left college and she laughed and said she wasn't planning on doing anything. She looked at me when she said that and a chill ran down my spine, but she probably meant nothing by it back then.

On the night we met up at the club, she seemed more relaxed and easy-going. We were in the club having a good time, drinking and dancing. After an hour or so, Robert disappeared into a corner with Kristina's friend, and Kristina and I were left at the bar. I tried to talk to her, but the music was so loud. She beckoned me closer. As I moved in, so did she. She kissed me, I kissed her back and then I felt a slap on my back. Robert was grinning at me. The club was closing, and he turned to Kristina's friend to invite her back to his room. She said no, but why didn't we both go back to their flat? I knew where that was going and tried to make my excuses to go home, but Robert elbowed me and told the girls we would love to go with them. He whispered in my ear that I'd ruin his chances if I bailed on him.

I'm not proud of what happened next. I could blame the alcohol, but I was well aware of the choice I could make and I made the wrong one. As we walked up the stairs to their flat, I asked if Robert had any condoms, but he only had one for himself. When Kristina said not to worry, she was on the pill, I believed her. Maybe she was. Mistakes happen, and that was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made.

I had paid my way through college by working at a screen printers during term time and on building sites during the summers (my dad had been a bricklayer and got me various jobs). My plan was to work one last summer before I took off for a year to travel and paint. I knew I could make my money go a long way if I lived in Spain or South America, and I had been learning Spanish with books and tapes with that goal in mind. I'd start in Europe, get my Spanish to a good level and then head off to the Americas to immerse myself in their cultures and truly experience something different.

I had avoided seeing Kristina after our brief encounter (that's a film you should watch!) and hoped I could just walk away from the whole affair with no actual harm done. In my mind, it was a one-night stand. Not something I was proud of, but with two consenting adults and hopefully no expectations on either side, I thought I could escape easily enough. Boy, was I wrong about that. About six weeks after our night together, Kristina showed up at the site I was working at. She walked into the Portakabin where I was eating my lunch and announced in front of everyone:

"I'm pregnant and you're the father".

She gave me a slip of paper with her phone number on it and walked out. The guys around me thought this was hilarious. They patted me on the back and were trying to talk to me, but I couldn't hear them. It was as if someone had sledge-hammered me in the guts. A hole opened up in my world: my travel plans, my work, the person I thought I would be. It was all gone.

D