Emily Taylor - The Teenage Mum by Vi Grim Page A

are back in a world filled with
gorgeous naked men. With the worm I can see, I can smell and I can
hear. I'm there snuggled up beside them but I can't touch. I get
all hot. I touch myself gently. It feels so good. Just one click of
my fingers and I'll be there.
'Don't,' says Pollux.
He really knows how to take the
heat out of the moment.
'Mind your own business,' I
snap.
'Emily, be careful. You might
get pregnant.'
'I am pregnant.'
'You might catch horrible
diseases.'
'He looks healthy to me.'
'He might be a psycho
killer.'
'He's lovely, he's dreaming of
the girl that sits opposite him on the train.'
'He's got crabs.'
'Urrrrgh, I'll keep my
distance. Now go away!'
Slugs, what can you do with
them!
     
I relax again and soon I'm back
where I was before, breathing deeply and drifting away into another
world. I push the girl in his dreams aside and slip in there
myself. He's a little surprised at first, then quickly takes a
shine to me. Tart. I might visit him again sometime, he's cute.
I'll try out some others first.
     
    Nelly and me
visit Castor and go shopping. With the days drawing in and cooler
weather on the way, Nel's going to need some clothes. She's toilet
trained. We got that sorted early on. She has the odd little
accident, but usually it's my fault because I forget. The cleaning
up is like my punishment for not paying attention. Being toilet
trained, she can have clothes that fit nicely, like have a little
pair of knickers and some
leggings rather than the huge all in one that's needed to
accommodate a full nappy.
We spend hours shopping.
Using the virtual model, she tries on the clothes and jumps around
in them to see how they fit. Although all she can say is, 'Zo, zo,
zo,' and, 'Ma, ma, ma,' I can see pretty quickly if she likes an
outfit or not. Once we’ve put the order in, I remember her
birthday. It's still a little way off but I need to get her a
present. What in the world would she like?
Castor and me have a look to
see what one year olds are playing with. In Botswana the kids are
having great fun playing with empty plastic coke bottles; in Korea
they're virtual, the babies are virtual and so are the toys; in
Manchester they have bright coloured plastic things with batteries
in that flash and whistle and talk back to you. Some of the dolls
even pee their pants. I wonder if they do number twos as well; and,
in the highlands of New Guinea they're playing with their great
grandfather's fibula. I should really just drink a bottle of coke
and give her the empty but I can't resist buying her the obscene
plastic flashy thing. She's my first baby after all, and it's her
first birthday. You are only one once.
     
I thought Nelly was going to
walk months ago but she's still not there. It's December and her
birthday is almost upon us. Jesus suggests having a big party for
her birthday, rather than his.
'We can't have two parties in
two weeks,' he says. 'Let's celebrate her birthday, it's
special'
It is. 'Let's,' I say. It seems
a good idea, then I think about it a bit more. 'Does this mean
you're cancelling Christmas?'
'Yes.'
'You can't cancel
Christmas.'
'It's my birthday; I can do
what I like.'
'No you can't, I like
Christmas. Let's have dinner at my place.'
'Let's.'
I glimpse something out
of the corner of my eye. I can't believe it; she's
walking!
'Look, look, look!' I say,
grabbing Jesus's arm. 'She's coming to see us.'
Nelly totters over to us and
hangs onto Jesus's knee. She looks ever so proud of herself.
Turning to me, she says, 'Ma, ma, mama,' and staggers across to
me.
She's so clever. I do feel a
little sad though, I wish she could have the chance to say, 'Da,
da, dada.'
     
I miss Dad and Mum like never
before. Nelly's one today and I want to show her off. Mum would go
all gooey and I could tease Dad about being a granddad. He looks
the part now that I've given him lots of grey hair.
     
We don't tell Nelly about
her birthday, we keep it top secret until after she's had her
afternoon nap. I walk along the