Umbilicus: An autobiographical novel

TEA

'HOW ABOUT SOME COFFEE and cake next door?' says Max. 'My treat.'

'That sounds great, thanks!' Although you've been coming to the Playhouse for years, you've never been to the coffee shop in The Royal Hotel, but have heard it's quite an experience.

After being welcomed by a doorman in top hat and tails, you step into a world of olde worlde colonial charm. All mirrors and wood-panelled walls, with thick pile carpets and crystal chandeliers. You get shown to a marble-topped table with wicker chairs and plump deep-buttoned cushions.

The delicious aroma of freshly ground coffee and the soft tinkle of silverware against chinaware fills the air. The array of cakes and pastries looks positively decadent. You are suddenly very grateful to Mom, and Gran, for their insistence on English etiquette and proper table manners.

'So, honest opinions, what did you guys think?' Max breaks the ice.

'Of what?' says Chris, eyes twinkling.

'The play!' Kaylee elbows him playfully in the ribs. Everyone is fully aware of the giant elephant in the room — mother and daughter finally sitting side by side, unwittingly open to scrutiny. God, never mind coffee, you could really do with a stiff drink round about now.

'Well, I never really considered myself a massive fan of the original band,' you jump in, trying to avert the awkwardness of the situation. 'So I was surprised by how many of the songs I knew.'

'I thought it was a really good tribute show,' Gray says diplomatically. 'The main guy was a dead ringer for Freddie Mercury.'

The waiter arrives to take orders, and while everyone orders coffees and cappuccinos, you ask for Earl Grey. Gray winks at you. You wink back. A little private joke.

'Don't you like coffee then, "Miss Bodum?" ' asks Max teasingly.

'Hey!' you shoot back, smiling. 'You deserve an Oscar for that performance.' He throws back his head and roars with laughter.

'Ja, she's a tea drinker,' says Beth, smiling.

'Some things are obviously not genetically inherited then,' says Max. 'Bettie over here couldn't survive without her coffee.' She swats at him playfully and turns to address the table.

'Speaking of genes. Look at our hands!' You both hold your hands out for the whole table to see. They are virtually identical.

'Never mind the hands,' says Max. 'Apart from the obvious difference in colouring, and height, for me it's like looking at twins. The resemblance is remarkable.'

You and Beth blush as all eyes openly focus on the both of you.

'Okay guys, please can we change the subject. Charlotte and I are starting to feel a bit like a zoo exhibit over here.'

'Ja, like a couple of bugs underneath a magnifying glass!'

'Oh okay, be like that, you two,' says Max, and he turns to engage Gray about what he does for a living, and your plans for London.

'I must apologise for Max,' Beth turns to you and smiles. 'He loves ribbing. But it means he likes you.'

'Oh well, that's good!' you laugh. Actually, it's a huge relief, knowing you've made a good impression on her partner.

'So,' she says, earnestly. 'You told me you and your mom come to the Playhouse quite often? Out of all the productions you've seen, which has been your favourite so far?'

'I'd have to say Jesus Christ Superstar.' No hesitation. 'I'm not at all religious, but it made a huge impact on me.'

Beth goes pale.

Oh dear, did you just say something to upset her. You had noticed she wore a small crucifix on a chain round her neck, and knew from her journaling in the scrapbook she was a Christian, but you hadn't said anything offensive, had you? Perhaps she considered shows like that 'irreligious'?

'Oh my gosh,' she says, her hand fluttering to her mouth. 'Charlotte, you're not going to believe this, but I saw that exact same musical when I was pregnant with you.'

'What? Where?! I thought it had been banned in South Africa back in those days?'

'It was! But you know when my mom sent me over to London to have, the, er, you know.' She is clearly uncomfortable with the subject of how close she came to 'getting rid of' you. 'Well, during those two weeks I was over there, trying to decide what to do, whether to go through with it or not, I went and watched Superstar at the Palace Theatre in the West End. I was also terribly moved by it, and I think it helped me to make the decision I did — to come back home and have you.'

You are stunned. You had been inside this woman's womb when she had watched the very same show, listened to all the same songs, all whilst wrestling with the decision whether or not to end your life. Your brain feels like it's on a thirty-second delay. Then the gravity of her words finally registers.

'I've always been skeptical of these sorts of things,' she says quietly. 'But now this makes me wonder if there is actually something to the concept of in utero memory.'