inclined to make pronouncements like that. Particularly pretty ones like Sophia.
‘Oh, you’ll make more,’ Kieron persisted, shrugging it off. ‘Don’t you worry.’
‘Oh, I’m not worried,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to have friends really, anyway.’
‘Why ever not?’ Mike asked.
‘Because you can’t trust them.’ Her face darkened. ‘My last best friend, Chloe, tried to turn me into a lesbian. And –’
‘Sophia, love,’ I interrupted. ‘Shall we talk about this later? Not a topic of conversation for teatime really, is it?’
‘But she did!’ Sophia persisted, now fired up, eyes flashing. ‘And my caring mother didn’t give a damn! Oh, Sophia, stop complaining, she’s just being friendly, stop moaning … Yeah, right, Mum. Like she ever gave a damn!’
‘Sophia,’ I said, shocked. ‘Please, just leave it. We can discuss all this later. Now calm down and let’s all just finish our tea, eh?’
She put her head down and continued eating, as the conversation juddered back to life.
‘Lovely steak, love,’ said Mike.
‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ I answered.
‘Uurgh! Pass the sick bucket,’ Kieron whined. ‘ Please .’
Sophia smiled too, and the tense moment seemed to have passed. And as I’d promised her, we would definitely talk about it later. It was clearly something she badly needed to get off her chest.
That and a whole heap more, besides.
Chapter 8
It’s a special place, my conservatory, especially in the evenings. It’s nice any time – my haven, my place of solitude overlooking the garden – but at night time it really came into its own. With the soft lighting, you couldn’t see the jumble of garden furniture stacked in the corner; all you really noticed were the two sofas, both covered with fleecy throws, and accessorised with piles of colourful cushions. It was cosy, too, the heating having been on all day, the perfect place to sit and relax.
The washing up done and the boys off watching football, I carried through my coffee and Sophia’s glass of milk and placed them on the little pine table that sat between the sofas. Then I sat down myself and patted the space beside me.
‘There,’ I said. ‘Peace at last. Come on, sit down and rest your legs, love.’
She duly sat next to me and leaned back. ‘It is true,’ she said. She had obviously been dying to tell me about it. ‘She did make me a lesbian, Casey. I know she did.’
‘It’s not up to her,’ I said. ‘It’s up to you. Do you think you’re a lesbian? What I mean is, do you like girls the way you like boys?’
This wouldn’t have been a conversation you’d have with many 12-year-olds, I thought. But she was very well developed, and aware of it, too. And I’d come across that many children now whose stories would make some people’s hair curl. Out of the mouths of babes and all that, sadly.
She glanced across at me. ‘Casey, I do know what a lesbian is. And no, of course I don’t. It was just that one time I, well, you know, did it with Chloe.’
I had to think carefully before speaking. ‘And it really doesn’t mean anything. You know, lots of girls experiment with kids of their own sex when they’re your age. It doesn’t mean they’ve committed to being gay. It’s just – well, like I say – experimenting.’
‘But Chloe said it made me one, because I let her.’ She pulled her legs up underneath her, so she was half-turned towards me. ‘And when I asked my mum – I was worried, I really was – she was, like, “Oh, stop going on.” She didn’t even want to know.’
I wondered then at Sophia’s overt flirting around men. Was she trying to prove a point? And to herself? ‘I think maybe your mum was trying to explain it, like I am, that it doesn’t mean anything, so you shouldn’t worry about it. After all, you have years ahead to work out who and what you are. I think you should just put it out of your mind.’
Instinctively then, seeing her
‘Oh, you’ll make more,’ Kieron persisted, shrugging it off. ‘Don’t you worry.’
‘Oh, I’m not worried,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to have friends really, anyway.’
‘Why ever not?’ Mike asked.
‘Because you can’t trust them.’ Her face darkened. ‘My last best friend, Chloe, tried to turn me into a lesbian. And –’
‘Sophia, love,’ I interrupted. ‘Shall we talk about this later? Not a topic of conversation for teatime really, is it?’
‘But she did!’ Sophia persisted, now fired up, eyes flashing. ‘And my caring mother didn’t give a damn! Oh, Sophia, stop complaining, she’s just being friendly, stop moaning … Yeah, right, Mum. Like she ever gave a damn!’
‘Sophia,’ I said, shocked. ‘Please, just leave it. We can discuss all this later. Now calm down and let’s all just finish our tea, eh?’
She put her head down and continued eating, as the conversation juddered back to life.
‘Lovely steak, love,’ said Mike.
‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ I answered.
‘Uurgh! Pass the sick bucket,’ Kieron whined. ‘ Please .’
Sophia smiled too, and the tense moment seemed to have passed. And as I’d promised her, we would definitely talk about it later. It was clearly something she badly needed to get off her chest.
That and a whole heap more, besides.
Chapter 8
It’s a special place, my conservatory, especially in the evenings. It’s nice any time – my haven, my place of solitude overlooking the garden – but at night time it really came into its own. With the soft lighting, you couldn’t see the jumble of garden furniture stacked in the corner; all you really noticed were the two sofas, both covered with fleecy throws, and accessorised with piles of colourful cushions. It was cosy, too, the heating having been on all day, the perfect place to sit and relax.
The washing up done and the boys off watching football, I carried through my coffee and Sophia’s glass of milk and placed them on the little pine table that sat between the sofas. Then I sat down myself and patted the space beside me.
‘There,’ I said. ‘Peace at last. Come on, sit down and rest your legs, love.’
She duly sat next to me and leaned back. ‘It is true,’ she said. She had obviously been dying to tell me about it. ‘She did make me a lesbian, Casey. I know she did.’
‘It’s not up to her,’ I said. ‘It’s up to you. Do you think you’re a lesbian? What I mean is, do you like girls the way you like boys?’
This wouldn’t have been a conversation you’d have with many 12-year-olds, I thought. But she was very well developed, and aware of it, too. And I’d come across that many children now whose stories would make some people’s hair curl. Out of the mouths of babes and all that, sadly.
She glanced across at me. ‘Casey, I do know what a lesbian is. And no, of course I don’t. It was just that one time I, well, you know, did it with Chloe.’
I had to think carefully before speaking. ‘And it really doesn’t mean anything. You know, lots of girls experiment with kids of their own sex when they’re your age. It doesn’t mean they’ve committed to being gay. It’s just – well, like I say – experimenting.’
‘But Chloe said it made me one, because I let her.’ She pulled her legs up underneath her, so she was half-turned towards me. ‘And when I asked my mum – I was worried, I really was – she was, like, “Oh, stop going on.” She didn’t even want to know.’
I wondered then at Sophia’s overt flirting around men. Was she trying to prove a point? And to herself? ‘I think maybe your mum was trying to explain it, like I am, that it doesn’t mean anything, so you shouldn’t worry about it. After all, you have years ahead to work out who and what you are. I think you should just put it out of your mind.’
Instinctively then, seeing her
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