Flora
I have butterflies in my stomach as a sea of faces greet my entrance into the bar. I feel sick. I could faint at any moment but I have to go through with the process. The wheels are turning and I must go with the flow.
Major Matthews had swiftly arranged for a private company to attend and perform the swab collection.
It must be costing an arm and a leg. How am I ever going to repay his generosity?
The bright lights of the local TV crew glare above my head, a cluster of camera operators and techies fiddle about with equipment while the news reporter Beth Copper tidies her hair. I’ve never been on TV before so the very thought fills me with dread but as Annie keeps saying ‘it’s vital to get the story out there.’
The crowd stand and stare.
All these people have given up their evening for me and my cause, the least I can do is be polite and sociable.
‘Flora?’ calls Annie from the bar, holding aloft a glass of rosé wine.
‘In a minute, I need to do this first,’ I say, grateful that she’s always one step ahead of me. She knows me so well in such a short time.
Hours ago, I thought what will I do if no one turns up? Step one: I’ll die of embarrassment. Step two: dash home to Bushey never to be seen again. That fear has been suppressed by this wonderful crowd that now stand by the bar.
My journey is in the lap of the Gods, but I am turning to cold hard science to do the detection work for me.
‘Flora!’ calls Beth, the news hound. ‘How are we feeling?’
‘Very nervous,’ I mutter, twirling a long strand of hair round my index finger.
‘There’s no need, just be yourself.’ Beth spends a few minutes explaining that the camera crew would like to film my oral swab being taken, they’d like general footage of others having theirs taken and afterwards, once I’ve calmed down, they’d take me aside for a few questions whilst in the background the others continue with the task. They’d already interviewed Major Matthews about his grand gesture and generosity.
It all sounds fine to me.
‘And when will this be used?’ I ask, unsure if I’d be on the ten o’clock local news.
‘We could feature midday tomorrow, if all goes well… a feel good feature at lunchtime lifts everyone, then there’ll be a rerun on the early evening news as well.’
I’m stunned, I’ll be on the telly twice in one day. Wow!
‘So, are we fit and ready?’ she asks, giving the camera crew the immediate thumbs up.
*
‘Who’s first?’ asks the nurse eagerly, scanning the crowd for sample number one.
The sea of faces turn towards me.
‘I suppose that’s me!’ I laugh, stepping through the crowd and standing before the makeshift testing station. Nothing high-tech or laboratory-like but a testing area consisting of a couple of bar tables and hard-backed chairs, plus two sterile nurses.
Not the usual Tuesday night Karaoke Do at The Peacock, ironically ‘I will Survive’ is looping through my mind, as the camera crew stand a little way back from the action.
‘If you could take a seat,’ asks Nurse One, opening a plastic bag containing the paraphernalia for DNA testing. ‘Could you open wide, please?’
I never imagined how embarrassing it would be to sit before a crowd and camera crew with my mouth open wide. Seriously, I blushed like a nun passing Ann Summers and yet all she did was insert a large cotton bud and swipe about my inner cheek. I’ve shown less embarrassment at smear tests. The nurse carefully places the swab inside a clear tube before writing my details on the tiny label and ushering me and my sample sideways towards the second nurse and her paperwork station.
‘Next,’ calls the swabbing nurse.
I watch Joel step to the front of the queue. No one in the bar queries his actions – they simply gather round and stare.
Have mercy if I have committed some deadly sin by unknowingly head butting my older brother. I quickly do the maths in my head. Could we have the same mother?
Joel sits down and follows Nurse One’s instructions just as I had – the camera crew continue to film.
Please let his be an unrelated result. That would be my silver lining to counter balance any disappointing result from tonight’s mass testing.
I look amongst the crowd, Denny and Donnie grin inanely from beside the fruit machine.
Could I cope with the fruit machine loons being my younger brothers? Or wife swappers being my grandparents?
A wave of panic crashes over me.
What if this testing doesn’t work? A big fat zero result comes back after I’ve badgered everyone to attend and be swabbed. I’ll definitely die of embarrassment and crawl back to Bushey if I’m not related to anyone – that will be a sure sign. Maybe that fictional stork did fly by and deliver a baby just once.
‘Collect a free drink once you’ve had your swab taken,’ shouts Annie, filling the bar with a selection of lager and wine glasses. ‘And no, you can’t queue for a second and third swab to get another drink!’ A ripple of laughter lifts from the waiting crowd.
Suddenly the crowd surge into an orderly queue in front of Nurse One, as I leave paperwork nurse and collect my wine.
‘Well done, darling… that couldn’t have been easy in front of everyone,’ says Annie.
‘How red did I go?’ I say, gratefully lifting the rosé to my lips. ‘Cheers and thank you Annie, this wouldn’t have happened without you.’
‘It’s nothing… maybe you should publicly thank Major Matthews.’
‘I will once everyone’s been swabbed, there’s no way I could have forked out for all these tests… it’ll cost a pretty penny and people wouldn’t have paid for their own.’
Annie nods in agreement.
‘Are you pleased with the turn out, Flora?’ asks Joel, sidling up to the bar and collecting a pint glass.
‘Absolutely delighted. I had a wobble earlier imagining that no one would attend… how stupid was I?’
Joel scans the busy bar.
‘By the looks of it virtually every family in the village is represented, even those who we’ve lost contact with… surely someone here must have some genetic connection to you.’
‘I hope so.’
We stand in silence as a mass of Delaney females gather at the front of the queue.
‘Even if you end up being one of the…?’ Joel nods his head towards the gaggle of women.
‘Yep, even if…’ I playfully slap his shoulder.
‘Brave girl,’ he adds, supping his pint.
‘I wonder if there’ll be people who refuse to attend?’
‘Such as?’
I shrug.
‘I couldn’t say but there must be someone in the village that’s not prepared to give a swab.’
‘I can’t imagine there’s many, they all know your story and the issues it has thrown up for you… though there’s always someone who’ll complain that testing goes against their basic human rights.’
‘Exactly, how would I find out who they were?’
‘You can’t unless you’re going to tick off the residents’ names from the electoral roll.’
‘But they could use that as an excuse for hiding… the truth.’
‘I doubt it’ll happen… if there’s a woman in this village trying to avoid this… most will be uncovered because their children are here offering to be tested.’
He’s right. There can’t be anyone in the village who could hide – the bar is heaving with bodies; the door keeps opening, welcoming people of all ages.