The appliance of science

A schoolteacher once said that I was unable to express emotions. It wasn't meant as a compliment but I took it as such. Making a decision based on logic is clearly a superior course to one that is clouded by emotions. When I was a young, I used to watch Star Trek re-runs and wanted to emulate Spock. I never understood why his lack of emotion was the punchline for so many, end of episode, jokes. He was so clearly superior to everyone else in the show. It was Kirk that was laughable.

As it happens, the teacher was incorrect. Sadly, I am not like Spock. I do feel emotion. But my emotions tend to be polarised. I feel pleasure and anger, with very little in between. Pleasure is what drives me and anger is what, sometimes, gets me into trouble. 

These days I am good at controlling my anger. I know it gets in the way of getting what I want. Unfortunately, now and then, anger is triggered by a seemingly trivial provocation. When this happens, it seems as if there are two separate instances of me, both existing at the same time. One is doing and one is watching. The instance of me that is watching doesn't feel anger. It observes, detached, watching what the other instance is doing. 'This is not good,' it might say, or, 'this is very, very bad.' But it cannot intervene. The angry instance has to purge its anger through action. This can last for days, with anger building and subsiding in cycles, depending on the perceived responses to that anger. The detached instance just tut-tuts, like a disapproving aunt who foretells that 'this will end badly'.

It was just as well, therefore, that I had to go away for a short period, after my last encounter with John and Kim. I had been deliberately pushing John, so that he would resist but when he did resist I became annoyed. Not very Spock, I know. But yeah, yeah, I have already addressed that. Anyway, had I been around for the next few days, things might have taken a fairly nasty turn. Luckily, the break gave me time for reflection. It also gifted me the divine pleasure of Emily's complicity.

***

Isn't modern science wonderful? One can order a DNA paternity test on-line and get the result within just five days! Most testing services even have an "express service". The tests are not expensive. The cheapest I found was just £50. The most expensive no more than £200. I love the way that what used to be considered exotic technologies are now within the grasp of everyone. Democracy in action. Did you know that Picassa has really good face recognition for free? I have found it very useful.

Anyway, when I told Emily of Kim's suspicion that John was not the father of her and Michael, she was absolutely delighted. She described John as 'weak and ineffectual.' It would make total sense to her, she told me, if it turned out that John wasn't her real father. 

Gathering the material needed for the test was pretty easy, given the games we had been playing. Emily, however, wanted to gather some fresh samples, to ensure that there was no room for doubt. She told me that she came up with a bizarre story about an outbreak of something unusual and infectious at school. She told everyone, including Michael, that she needed saliva samples, so that they could be tested for infection. The school was going to do the testing which was why she was collecting them herself, she said!

It sounds pretty far-fetched to me but Emily is the sort of girl that one often decides to humour rather than challenge. So, if people had doubts then they didn't say. They never considered that Emily might have an ulterior motive. Naive, given that Emily always has an ulterior motive.

Emily decided to go public with the results on Facebook while John was at the rugby on Saturday. At the same time, I was having a romantic interlude with Kim in a nice country hotel. I like to alternate between nice and nasty with Kim, to keep her keen and malleable. I know it is a clichéd tactic but is a cliché for a reason. And of course, it wasn't all champagne. Kim likes it rough as well as tender. I was only too happy to oblige.

As neither Kim nor John are friends of Emily on Facebook, it was only on Saturday night that the news made its way back to John and Kim, via the parents of Emily's school-friends. Emily called me excitedly, to report what had happened. John got back from the rugby having drunk too much. He didn't deal with the news very well. There was apparently lots of shouting and tears, she told me. John had lost control and slapped Kim more than once. As a consequence, Kim completely lost it and, screaming and scratching, she turfed him out of the house. Emily presumes he went to stay with a rugby pal.

"Didn't anyone ask why you posted it publicly?" I asked.

"He was too busy blaming mum, the bastard" she said. "I just played the wronged little girl, acting in a fit of a pique."

Emily paused, and I swear I heard her lick her lips, before she said, "I told mum that I didn't know why she stayed with him. I told her she seemed so much happier since you started seeing someone else."