Page 23 of Pansies

“Look, I’m not that kid anymore.” Hauling himself up into a more dignified sitting position, Alfie wished he hadn’t finished his drink. “I’d never hurt anyone.”

“I know that.” Kitty met his eyes across the table. “But you did.”

“I know. Okay. I know. I get it. I’m a shithead. I tried to say sorry. But he wasn’t having it.”

“It takes a while.”

“He’s had fifteen years. How much longer does he need?”

She made an exasperated noise. “Sometimes I wonder how you tie your shoes in the morning. Alfie, just because it’s trivial to you, doesn’t mean it’s trivial to him. And anyway, you don’t reallyget overthings. You learn to live with them. Seeing you again probably stirred it all back up.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“You’re making me wish I had some plant juice.”

Alfie closed his eyes. “I just hate that I…y’know…that I affected someone’s life like that. In such a bad way. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, I suppose that’s somethingyou’llhave to learn to live with.”

Greg licked his finger and made a sizzling noise. They both glared at him. He looked sheepish. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“I can’t believe for a minute,” said Kitty, eyeing him, “thatyouweren’t picked on at school. Tell Alfie what it was like.”

“I went to Bedales. I was head boy.” Greg looked pensivefor a moment. “Though now I think about it, when I was about eleven, Gyles Cadell walked up to me right in the middle of breadmaking—”

“You what?” spluttered Alfie.

“Breadmaking. We did it on Thursday mornings. It was very soothing. Anyway, there I was innocently kneading my dough, when Gyles Cadell walked up to me and announced, ‘You’re gay,’ and I said, ‘Yes, I am.’ And then he looked confused and went away again.”

“Wow,” said Kitty, “you must have been so traumatised.”

“Well, I’m sorry I was insufficiently oppressed for you. I’m not dead of AIDS either. And both my still-married parents like me.” He clapped a hand to his mouth. “Oh God, Alfie, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine,” Alfie lied. “It’s fine. I’mover it.”

“Sure you are.”

“Living with it, then.”

Kitty summoned a fresh glass of wine and knocked back most of it. “Just so you know, I had a shit-awful time at school.”

“Oh, darling, really?” Greg patted her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“As Alfie keeps insisting, it was a long time ago.”

“I just can’t imagine it. You’re, well, I love you, but you’re terrifying.”

“Believe me, I was born to be in my midthirties.” She made a sweeping gesture. “Mine is a body one grows into. When I was a teenager, I was all limbs and hair and teeth. I was a Giant Hermione Granger.”

“You’re beautiful,” Alfie told her.

“I know. But it took me a long time to learn. And girls are vile. They hunt in packs and prey on the weak.”

“But you’re over it now, right?”

“As I said, I live with it. If I saw any of them again…well…I wouldn’t actively set them on fire, but if they already happened to be on fire when I encountered them, I might hesitate to spit on them.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” asked Alfie helplessly. “Be glad I wasn’t on fire when I met Fen again?”

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