who’re giving you trouble – well, maybe you can shame them by going to school in a group with mums who support you.’
‘I don’t know any,’ said Hope.
‘OK, but have you looked? Asked? Anyway’ – Maya waved a hand again – ‘let’s leave that for the moment. Sooner or later the insurance issue will come up – the school will be told it can’t be insured against your little boy, or rather you can’t be insured. Now, you have alternatives there: you could home-school … ’
‘No way!’
‘ … or join a parents’ school group. I can help you find some.’
‘No, again. I’m not taking Nick out of the nursery.’
‘Well … in that case, there are alternative sources of insurance cover you might consider. Mainly religious – Islamic, some kinds of Catholic, even, uh, Mennonite and so on, you know,
sects
. They’ll all cover you and the school will have to accept that you’re covered, because of various non-discrimination acts – you see how it works, you use one part of the law against others?’
Hope looked at the dregs of her coffee.
‘Want another coffee?’ she said.
Maya nodded. Hope used the five minutes it took to buy the powder and milk and queue for the water to think over why sheobjected so much to Maya’s well-meant suggestions. By the time she got back, she thought she had it.
‘I don’t want to sneak around,’ she said. ‘That’s what “workaround” means to me. I don’t want to live in some hole-and-corner way, relying on the goodwill of sects and cults, thank you very much. I just want to live like everybody else.’
‘OK, OK,’ Maya said, again with the backing-off body language. ‘All right, let’s see how you can do it mainstream.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. ‘Have you thought of writing to your MP?’
Hope stared at her. ‘What would be the point of that?’
‘More than you’d think,’ said Maya. ‘They still take letters from constituents seriously. And come on, your MP is one of the better ones. Jack Crow.’
‘He even lives around here,’ Hope said. ‘I’ve spoken to him, now I come to think of it. He knocked on our door at the last election.’
‘An MP who canvasses?’ said Maya. ‘My, my. Did you vote for him?’
‘None of your business,’ Hope said.
Maya nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
‘But I did,’ Hope added.
Maya looked surprised. ‘I wouldn’t have expected you to be—’
‘Oh, no,’ Hope said. ‘I’m not. No, I don’t believe in
all that
, but it’s – well, it’s two things. One is my job, you know? In China? So I’m all for that side of it, the war and so on; we really have to, you know,
defeat
those people. And the other is, uh,my husband. He’s from the Highlands and he’s half native, as he puts it, and I don’t know if you know what the people up there are like, but I swear if he even thought I was going to vote any other way he’d walk out on me.’
‘Really?’
Hope laughed. ‘It’s a slight exaggeration, but he takes it all very seriously.’
‘Ah!’ said Maya. ‘So he might be quite pleased if you were to take it so seriously that you’d actually
join
the—’
‘What! I couldn’t!’
‘Why not?’
‘I mean, look at me!’
‘I’m looking at a regular Islington mum.’
‘Exactly! And my accent! Come on, I’m a Home Counties middle-class girl.’
Maya put a hand across her mouth and pinched her nostrils as if stifling a giggle.
‘I think you’ll find,’ she said when she’d ostensibly recovered, ‘that you’ll fit right in.’
That evening, Hope wrote a letter to her MP, Jack Crow. She found no difficulty at all in composing it, but quite a bit in writing it. She hadn’t hand-written an entire page since primary school. In the end she found an app on her glasses that sampled her handwriting and turned it into a font that looked like her handwriting would if it had been regular, and printed it off. There was even an app for the printer that indented the papera
‘I don’t know any,’ said Hope.
‘OK, but have you looked? Asked? Anyway’ – Maya waved a hand again – ‘let’s leave that for the moment. Sooner or later the insurance issue will come up – the school will be told it can’t be insured against your little boy, or rather you can’t be insured. Now, you have alternatives there: you could home-school … ’
‘No way!’
‘ … or join a parents’ school group. I can help you find some.’
‘No, again. I’m not taking Nick out of the nursery.’
‘Well … in that case, there are alternative sources of insurance cover you might consider. Mainly religious – Islamic, some kinds of Catholic, even, uh, Mennonite and so on, you know,
sects
. They’ll all cover you and the school will have to accept that you’re covered, because of various non-discrimination acts – you see how it works, you use one part of the law against others?’
Hope looked at the dregs of her coffee.
‘Want another coffee?’ she said.
Maya nodded. Hope used the five minutes it took to buy the powder and milk and queue for the water to think over why sheobjected so much to Maya’s well-meant suggestions. By the time she got back, she thought she had it.
‘I don’t want to sneak around,’ she said. ‘That’s what “workaround” means to me. I don’t want to live in some hole-and-corner way, relying on the goodwill of sects and cults, thank you very much. I just want to live like everybody else.’
‘OK, OK,’ Maya said, again with the backing-off body language. ‘All right, let’s see how you can do it mainstream.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. ‘Have you thought of writing to your MP?’
Hope stared at her. ‘What would be the point of that?’
‘More than you’d think,’ said Maya. ‘They still take letters from constituents seriously. And come on, your MP is one of the better ones. Jack Crow.’
‘He even lives around here,’ Hope said. ‘I’ve spoken to him, now I come to think of it. He knocked on our door at the last election.’
‘An MP who canvasses?’ said Maya. ‘My, my. Did you vote for him?’
‘None of your business,’ Hope said.
Maya nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
‘But I did,’ Hope added.
Maya looked surprised. ‘I wouldn’t have expected you to be—’
‘Oh, no,’ Hope said. ‘I’m not. No, I don’t believe in
all that
, but it’s – well, it’s two things. One is my job, you know? In China? So I’m all for that side of it, the war and so on; we really have to, you know,
defeat
those people. And the other is, uh,my husband. He’s from the Highlands and he’s half native, as he puts it, and I don’t know if you know what the people up there are like, but I swear if he even thought I was going to vote any other way he’d walk out on me.’
‘Really?’
Hope laughed. ‘It’s a slight exaggeration, but he takes it all very seriously.’
‘Ah!’ said Maya. ‘So he might be quite pleased if you were to take it so seriously that you’d actually
join
the—’
‘What! I couldn’t!’
‘Why not?’
‘I mean, look at me!’
‘I’m looking at a regular Islington mum.’
‘Exactly! And my accent! Come on, I’m a Home Counties middle-class girl.’
Maya put a hand across her mouth and pinched her nostrils as if stifling a giggle.
‘I think you’ll find,’ she said when she’d ostensibly recovered, ‘that you’ll fit right in.’
That evening, Hope wrote a letter to her MP, Jack Crow. She found no difficulty at all in composing it, but quite a bit in writing it. She hadn’t hand-written an entire page since primary school. In the end she found an app on her glasses that sampled her handwriting and turned it into a font that looked like her handwriting would if it had been regular, and printed it off. There was even an app for the printer that indented the papera
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