‘Oh, I got Lacey a cuddly toy, but I don’t think Stella liked it too much. I really didn’t think about it beforehand, but I should have done. Sorry.’
‘No, no,’ said David. ‘That’s not what Stella wanted to talk to you about at all. Catch up with her later, she must be putting Lacey down now. Just make sure you talk to her before you take off, OK?’
There were family friends to greet, and old friends of David’s to get reacquainted with, and then some of Stella’s family to say hello to as Freddie hadn’t seen them since Stella and David’s wedding two years ago. He nibbled on the tasteless gluten-free bites, drank some more of the alcohol-free pink punch, and longed for someone to cut into the cake. Everyone gathered around the giant wall-mounted TV to watch a compilation video of Lacey’s best bits from her first year, and then Stella went to bring the birthday girl downstairs again so that everyone could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and gush about how beautiful she was.
Things were winding down when Stella finally pulled Freddie aside.
‘Sorry for snapping at you earlier. You weren’t upset, were you?’
‘Upset?’ Freddie thought about his mum’s face after he finished washing his hands. ‘I wasn’t upset.’
‘Oh, well, good then. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just want things to be perfect, and it’s hard, you know?’
‘Of course.’
‘And I’m sorry that it might have ruined what I really wanted to talk to you about today, what I think could be your “real” present for Lacey?’
‘Real present?’
‘I really hope that you will catch my drift with all this, because I know your family can be closed up as clamshells sometimes, never talking about feelings or whatever, but my family is very open. We talk about everything, and I feel it’s important that you have someone here who understands you, who tells it to you straight, as it were.’
Freddie really didn’t like where this was going. At all.
‘So, the thing is. I wanted to let you know, without you having to say anything, that I know.’
‘You know?’
‘Yes. And I know that it’s hard for you. And that you’ll probably never talk about it with your family. But as I said, my family are a lot more open, and probably a little bit more modern about things too. The way the world is now and everything. Does that make sense?’
‘Not really . . .’
‘It’s so important to me that Lacey grows up with the right influences in life. I’d like to make sure that you’re one of those influences. It’s important that she understands all the different ways that the world works. And well, let’s just say that David and I have a very straight world view. We want to make sure that Lacey grows up with more than that.’
For a fleeting moment, Freddie thought that Stella might be talking about geek stuff – watching Star Trek re-runs with Lacey, teaching her Dungeons and Dragons when she was old enough, lending her copies of his sci-fi Masterworks book series.
‘I mean, David and I don’t even have any gay friends, when you think about it,’ Stella continued.
‘What?’
‘Well, I mean, there were people I knew at university, of course, and people from work. But it’s not the same as family. It’s not the same as making sure that your daughter is exposed to gay culture on a more regular basis. And these are things that we need to celebrate. We need to celebrate you, Freddie.’
‘Stella, I don’t think—’
‘You don’t have to say anything. I know that these things stress you out, and I don’t want you to get all upset again. But we understand each other, right?’
‘Stella—’
She brought a soft palm up to his cheek. The proximity was overwhelming.
‘Think of it like the beginning of Sleeping Beauty, when each of the fairies bestows a gift on the baby. Except that you’re the only fairy, and the gift is you.’
When Stella reached in for a hug, Freddie felt unable to do anything but receive it. He’d talk to her another time, he decided, when his entire family weren’t camped out in the kitchen and there weren’t a dozen or so other guests curiously watching them.
‘I should get going. Weekend trains are a nightmare,’ Freddie said, breaking away.
‘Of course.’
‘I’ll just say goodbye to everyone.’
‘I’m so glad we had this chat, Freddie.’
‘Um, yes, great. Brilliant in fact. Thank you.’
On the train home, Freddie pulled out his phone and found a single message waiting for him from Baz.
You get your comics back?
Yup, Freddie replied. The pub we went to last night had them. Crisis averted!
Good good. Maisie says hello btw. She says you have a nice voice.
Freddie used a couple of emojis to smile and wave back.
Before he put the phone back in his pocket, he went to his photo album to look at the picture he took of that notice in the pub. He stared at it for a good long while, wondering what the right thing to do was.
Did his family really think he was gay? Why? Just because he didn’t have a girlfriend? Because he had never had a girlfriend? Surely they knew that wasn’t the reason. Surely they understood him, and what he had been through, better than that?
Freddie searched online for the name of the meet-up group and found the details. The next meeting was a week on Tuesday. Being alone sucked. Maybe it was finally time to do something about it.
Chapter 4
The staff room was suddenly cold. And yet so hot at the same time. Kate wanted to put her phone down, or throw it far away and hear it smash, but she found she couldn’t let go, and instead gripped it tight, staring down at the screen.
‘Are you OK?’ Renee asked. ‘Has something happened?’
Kate snapped back up, managed to switch her phone into sleep mode and placed it face down on the table.
‘What? No, I’m fine,’ she said, trying to sound bright. She took her feet down from the chair in front and grounded them on the floor. Renee followed suit.
‘Are you sure? Your face, you don’t look happy.’ Renee had placed a comforting hand on her arm, and Kate forced away the instinct to shake herself free from it.
‘It was nothing, really,’ she reassured. ‘Tell me more about tonight!’
Renee looked uncertain for a short moment, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, but Kate knew that her friend wouldn’t press any further, not if Kate didn’t want it. And so Renee started talking about the plans she had for her date and why she had chosen the outfit Kate had glimpsed earlier: simple and black and not too smart, but not too casual either, because she had no idea what restaurant they were going to, but was safely presuming that neither of their art student budgets would stretch to anywhere fancy.
‘Unless he’s a secret aristocrat,’ Renee wondered aloud. ‘Can you imagine? A French count – do they have counts in France? – escaping the discipline of his parents, his familial duty, by going to art school in London? He’s a romantic hero!’
Maybe Kate was meant to say something, she wasn’t sure. She had zoned out, gaze fixed on her hodgepodge lunch of last night’s leftovers. Her appetite had deserted her.