The Cement Garden by Ian McEwan Page A

through a tight bend in the Alps, ‘or the heat out.’ When I went back to my chair Sue had disappeared.
    I stared at Tom. In the large armchair he looked tiny, for his feet only just stuck out over the edge of the seat and his head came half-way up the backrest. He stared back at me for a few seconds, then he looked away and folded his arms. His legs splayed out from under his skirt. I said, ‘What’s it like being a girl?’ Tom shook his head and shifted his position. ‘Is it better than being a boy?’
    ‘Dunno.’
    ‘Does it make you feel sexy?’ Tom laughed suddenly. He did not understand what I meant, but he knew the word was a signal to laugh. ‘Well, does it?’ He grinned at me.
    ‘I dunno.’ I leaned forward and wiggled my finger at him to make him come closer.
    ‘When you put your wig on and the skirt, and then you go to the mirror and see a little girl, do you get a nice feeling in your dinky, does it get bigger?’ Tom’s grin faded away. He climbed off the armchair and slipped out of the room. I remained perfectly still, aware of the smell of the stew. The ceiling creaked. I arranged myself in my chair. I crossed my legs at the ankles and clasped my hands together under my chin. There were light, fast footsteps on the stairs and Tom came running in. ‘They’re coming! He’s coming!’ he said loudly. I said, ‘Who is?’ and moved my hands behind my head.
    Julie said, ‘This is Derek. This is Jack.’ I shook hands without standing up but uncrossed my legs and put my feet firmly on the floor. Neither of us spoke as we shook hands. Afterwards Derek cleared his throat and looked at Julie. She was standing right behind Tom with her hands pressing down on his shoulders. She said, ‘This is Tom,’ in a way that made it obvious she had already spoken to Derek about him. Derek moved behind my chair where I could not see him and said quietly, ‘Ah, a tomgirl.’ Sue made a half-hearted sort of laugh, and I stood up. Julie went into the kitchen to fetch the stew and called to Tom to help her. The three of us stood in the centre of the room. We were rather close and we seemed to sway a little together. Sue deliberately made her voice breathless and stupid.
    ‘We really like your car.’ Derek nodded. He was very tall and looked like he was dressed for a wedding – pale-grey suit, cream-coloured shirt and tie, cuff-links and a waistcoat with a small silver chain. I said, ‘I don’t like it much.’ He turned to me and smiled faintly. He had a thick black moustache. It looked so perfect that it could have been made of plastic.
    ‘Oh?’ he said politely through his smile. ‘Why not?’
    ‘It’s too flash,’ I said. Derek glanced down at his shoes and I went on, ‘I mean the colour, I don’t like red.’
    ‘Too bad,’ he said looking at Sue, not me. ‘Do you like red?’ Sue looked over Derek’s shoulder into the kitchen. ‘Me? Oh, I like red, especially on cars.’ Now that he was looking at me again I repeated, ‘I don’t like red on cars. It makes them look like toys.’ Derek took a step away from both of us. Both his hands were deep in his pockets and he rocked back on his heels. He spoke very quietly. ‘When you’re a bit older you’ll realize that’s all they are, toys, expensive toys.’
    ‘Why are they toys?’ I said. ‘They’re very useful for getting about.’ He nodded and looked all round the room.
    ‘These are big rooms,’ he said to Sue. ‘It’s a really big house.’ Sue said, ‘My room’s quite small.’ I folded my arms and persisted.
    ‘If cars are toys, then everything you buy is a toy.’ Just then Julie came in with the stew followed by Tom carrying a loaf of bread and a pepper pot.
    ‘I’ll have to think about that one, Jack,’ Derek said and turned to move a chair out of Julie’s way.
    Before we sat down I noticed that Julie was wearing her new boots, and the velvet skirt and the silk blouse. She and Derek sat next to each other at the table. I