Clutching our money we kept our appointment at the Harley Street surgery. But we were to be disappointed. As we checked in at 8am, a nurse took us into a private room and said to me, “I’m sorry. The sterilising machine has broken down You can’t have the abortion here”.
“Oh my God! What am I going to do?”
“It’s not just you. Everybody has to go to Golders Green.”
So we drive to Golders Green. As there were lots of other ladies in the same position to me who didn’t have a car, we took two of them in the back seat.
We arrived at a large dirty house in Golders Green. Upstairs on the first floor there was a nursing home. I was in tears. Then a doctor came over. He was a geriatric English doctor with big glasses and covered up hair. He reminded me of an old Doctor Jekyll. He said, “Don’t cry. No need to cry. What is your name?”
I glanced round at the shabby surroundings and said, “I don’t want to have an abortion here.”