Page 87 of Sex Ed

‘Oh, we’re not here to see your daughter. Without sounding harsh, arms like spaghetti and a certain lack of grace in her movement…’

‘Really?’ Jenny asks, looking over at Florence. Ballet is not her thing maybe, but I like how she dances through the facial expressions.

‘Yes.’

‘Does Florence’s father know you’re here?’ Jane asks me, gesturing towards Gareth stood nearer the stage.

‘Her mother knows. Rachel, I believe? Really lovely lady. Is that the father?’ I state, faking disbelief.

Jane starts to blush, and that frisson of discomfort just pushes me on, a little further.

‘It is,’ Jenny states. Jenny loves her gossip. I hope you do some good work for me here, Jenny.

‘Oh, it’s just I met someone else the other day at their house. I must be confused,’ I say.

‘Another man?’ Jane asks me.

‘Oh, yeah… Definitely not that man. He was taller, broader, he looked like he worked out, incredibly charming,’ I say, laughing.

‘Who was this man?’ Jane asks, confused.

‘Well, not him,’ I say, pointing towards Gareth. ‘He definitely didn’t have that greying, retired football pundit look about him.’ Jenny looks down at the floor trying to hold in her giggles. ‘Strange, from the way he was with Rachel I assumed they were married… Plus, that man knew how to wear denim! I saw the outline of things that would have taken your eye out,’ I say with a grin.

Both women stand there, mouths open.

‘Oh, you must excuse me. This is a children’s event. Sometimes I forget where I am.’ Florence comes to the end of her dance routine and I wave at her, just in time to see Rachel reappear, clapping and cheering too. I notice I’m still recording.

‘There’s Rachel. I must go over and say hello. Oh, you match the man in the front,’ I tell Jane. ‘That’s… bold. Lovely to meet you both. Enjoy. There are llamas…’ I turn to hide the glee on my face and stride over to find my sister. She sees me coming and even with the sunnies on, I can sense the distress in her face.

‘Were you just talking to Jane?’ she hisses when I reach her.

‘Yes.’

‘Mia, what did you say?’

‘It’s all good. I may have to leave though. Finish up here, I’ll wait in the pub down the road.’

‘What the hell did you do?’ she asks me.

‘Chaos,’ I say, calmly. But Rachel is no longer looking at me. She’s looking at a man stood by a llama enclosure. Balding. Very serious man. In a suit. Unlocking a gate. Now that is chaos.

‘Rachel, is that possibly Jane’s…?’

She nods. ‘I’ll get the kids. We can leave together.’

ED

‘Mum?’

‘Yes?’ she replies, sitting back in her faded yellow striped garden chair, closing her eyes to feel the sunshine on her face.

‘You cut the crusts off my sandwiches,’ I notice, laughing, looking down at the lunch she’s prepared on her rusting garden table. She doesn’t open her eyes but puts her sandalled feet up on a chair. I also like how she’s gone to the trouble of getting my favourite bacon crisps, poured me a giant pint glass of Fanta and got in some little mini cheeses and Kit Kats, all served on a novelty plate, with a spaceship on. The same set-up she used to get out when I’d have my mates round to play Mario Kart.

‘That’s how you like it.’

‘When I was eight. I am twenty-eight now. I eat my crusts now.’

‘Force of habit, shoot me,’ she says, looking completely unbothered. ‘Isn’t it lovely when the sun actually makes an appearance in this country? Close your eyes, Ed… Take it all in…’

---