Love... And Sleepless Nights MAY 2012 by Nick Spalding Page B

class.
    ‘Sorry I’m late everyone.’
    ‘Not a problem Trisha,’ a thick-set woman sporting a close-cropped haircut says from where she’s stood next to a pregnant girl covered in tattoos. They might as well have a sign above them saying LESBIANS in big, black writing.
    The stick insect unlocks the door. ‘Come in everyone!’ There’s a nervous energy about this skinny woman that’s already setting my teeth on edge.
    We file into the room.
    The four other couples take up position in a semi-circle around Trisha in front of some large sponge mats. Jamie and I slot ourselves in on one end in front of a spare mat and try to look inconspicuous. It doesn’t work.
    ‘Welcome my friends!’ Trisha says to us, clapping her bony hands together in delight. ‘You must be Laura and Jamie.’
    ‘Yep, that’s us,’ Jamie confirms.
    ‘Excellent. We run quite an informal class here. The best thing to do is just listen, watch and join in as you pick things up, okay?’
    We both nod a little uncertainly.
    ‘Goody goody gumdrops!’ Trisha exclaims happily.
    The phrase ‘goody, goody gumdrops’ is not one you want to here spouting from the mouth of someone who’s supposed to be a healthcare professional.
    I turn to look at Jamie. He looks like somebody has just flicked him on the testicle, so I assume he feels much the same way.
    Trisha goes to an iPod dock on a table at the back of the room. She puts her iPhone into it and plays with it for a moment.
    The room is suddenly filled with what sounds like Free Willy being raped.
    ‘What the bloody hell is that?’ Jamie cries.
    ‘Oh don’t worry!’ Trisha says. ‘I like to get the mood for the class right with a little whale song.’ She looks at the thick-set lesbian. ‘Could you get the lights for me Ashley?’
    The woman does as she is bid, while Trisha produces another black electronic device from her bag and deposits it on the table next to the iPod dock, switching it on as Ashley flicks the lights off.
    From the spherical black device beams of light erupt, bathing the room in fake starlight.
    ‘Oh Jesus Christ,’ I hear Jamie say under his breath.
    Free Willy is still being sexually molested, but now the assault is being conducted in the icy depths of space.
    The other couples deposit themselves on the floor. We reluctantly follow suit.
    Trisha starts to speak, her words punctuated by the aquatic sex crime going on in the background.
    ‘Welcome once again all of you.’ Beeeeeeoooooowwww. ‘I’m pleased to see you all back, along with some lovely new faces.’ Beeeeeeooooowww booo. ‘In this evening’s class we’re going to concentrate on labour breathing.’ Ikky ikky ikky beeeeeoooowwwwww. ‘Then we’ll move on to discuss post labour pain management.’ Beooow beooow beooow boooooooooooo beeooowww. ‘Any questions so far?’
    Jamie raises a hand.
    ‘Yes Jamie?’
    ‘Any chance we could lose the whales and the stars? I can’t decide whether I should be beaming down to the planet or trying to fuck a humpback.’
     
    That put the both of us in Trisha’s bad books for the rest of the evening.
    She did turn off the whales, but insisted the stars stayed on.
    What got me was that the others in attendance didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at this strangeness. They obviously felt that it was a perfectly normal part of preparing to give birth. Unless they were all Star Trek fans who worked at Seaworld I failed to see how this could be the case.
    We willingly take part in the breathing exercises to show we aren’t complete outsiders.
    Jamie is told to help me keep a rhythm by talking calmly and holding my hand, squeezing it in time with my breaths while I puff and blow like a malfunctioning steam engine.
    Next to us are Lolly and Brian.
    Brian has one hand on his wife’s back, the other on her upper thigh. He keeps squeezing her leg every time she breathes out in a manner that sounds almost orgasmic. It’s quite nauseating.
    ‘And now, please change places,’