Page 90 of Sex Ed

I pull a face at her. ‘She’s just nice. I really like her. It feels like a grown-up relationship, something that could really go somewhere…’

Mum smiles at this at least, to hear me in a happy place, with someone who has potential.

‘Well, happiness is good. When the time is right then I really look forward to meeting her,’ she says, patting me on the head again. ‘Are we painting this then?’ Mum asks, looking at me curiously.

‘Yeah. I was thinking white. And don’t laugh but Mia put me in touch with some ladies at her community centre who’ll do some flowers for it.’

‘I’m not laughing. This will look lovely. I have some fairy lights you can use too. I hope these kids understand how much effort you’re putting into this. I don’t remember you having a prom?’ Mum asks.

‘Oh, it’s an American tradition we seem to have inherited. I had an end-of-year dance in the school gym where I spent most of my time sat on a bench drinking Coke.’

I don’t really remember the event well as one that marked the end of my education. The popular kids who understood the music just spent their time dancing whilst the rest of us lined the perimeter of the room wishing for the time to pass quicker, less hopeful about pulling, more petrified.

‘I remember that! You wore the same suit you wore to your grandad’s funeral.’

‘I was a style icon even back then.’

‘Did you smooch anyone to the slow dance at the end?’

‘Smooch?’

‘You know what I mean!’ she jests.

‘There was a girl called Monica who was in my Higher Maths class and she attached herself to my face.’ I’m not even joking, there was a moment where the suction and the spit made me think we’d managed to surgically graft ourselves together.

‘Delightful,’ she says, laughing under her breath. She uses an old butter knife to open a tin of paint and runs her fingers across the bristles of one of her paintbrushes. ‘You know, you never spoke to me about all of that – girls etc. And I am sorry there wasn’t a man about either to chat to you about relationships when you were growing up. I always thought I failed you in that respect.’

I shift Mum a strange look, shaking my head. ‘Failed? Never. I just kept a lot of that to myself.’

‘Maybe if you’d had a dad, you could have shared it with him?’

‘Or not. I had you. It was enough,’ I tell her plainly because it is true.

I look over and Mum wipes more tears from her cheek. I’d hug her if I wasn’t holding a hammer, but I think it’s true. Nothing she ever did or didn’t do got me to where I am now. She did everything right. I think I was just slow off the blocks, smiling to think about something someone once told me.

‘Well, what about you? You spoke of your Mo friend the other week at lunch. Is that still going?’ I ask.

‘Mo only washes every other week to save water. So, no.’

I laugh.

‘I’m fine as I am, Eddie. I’ve never gone without love. I’ve only ever wished that for you. I’m glad you’ve found Caitlin. I’m sorry I made those assumptions about Mia. I hope you work that out. I liked her, she was…’

‘Scatty, mad as a hatter, loud, verging on ridiculous…?’

‘I thought she was good for you, Eddie. That was all.’

TWENTY

MIA

‘MISS! WHY ARE YOU HIDING BEHIND THAT TREE?’

I stand perfectly still behind that tree in my sunnies and raincoat, like a statue, hoping that wasn’t directed at me. Bloody hell, way to make me sound like a complete perv.

‘MISS JOHNSON!’

They’ve used my name now, so I have to appear, don’t I? I look around hoping there are no members of staff about this place. I am not entirely sure about the terms and conditions of my suspension, but I haven’t been back at school since I was told to leave and I am still waiting for the outcome pending Alicia’s investigations. However, I awoke today knowing I had to at least show my face out of support to catch my Year 11 kids as they come out of the gym, fresh from their English Literature exam.

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