by Liz Kessler
“Come on, Ash, you’ve got about ten seconds,” Cat said. My suit was still twisted a million ways. Eventually, I tugged it on and stretched it over my body just before the bubbles stopped and the water became see-through again.
“Jeez, that was close,” I gasped, but Cat was laughing and pointing at me.
“It’s inside out,” she managed to say, heaving with laughter.
I had to wait for the bubbles and do it all again before I could get out.
I remember that panicky feeling — thinking, yikes, someone’s going to get in when the bubbles stop and I’m going to be sitting here starkers with a crumpled, inside out bathing suit in my hand.
Only this is much, much worse. This is my mum, and I’m in my bedroom with another girl who’s also got no top on and is, at this moment, sitting on my bed looking terrified.
Panicking, I try to unscramble my top, but I just seem to tangle it up even more.
“Quick, get your clothes on,” I hiss and throw Taylor’s sweater across to her.
I finally unscramble my bra, and I call down as I straighten my top. “Coming, Mum!”
Taylor looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
Mum’s on her way up the stairs. “I left a folder at home that I need for this afternoon, so I thought I’d get it and grab a quick sandwich while I’m here,” she calls. Taylor pulls her sweater on seconds before Mum’s face pokes around the door. “Hi, love,” she says. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
“This is Taylor, from . . . from . . .” What do I say? From the gay club Cat took me to a couple of weeks ago?
“Work,” Taylor blurts out.
“Work? What work?” Mum looks blank.
“She works at the whole-food café,” I say quickly, “where Cat works. There might be a job there for me.”
“Oh, really? That’s great. Nice to meet you, Taylor.”
I’m sure Mum’s giving us funny looks. She knows what’s going on. Oh, no. Please, no.
“Do you girls want to have a bite to eat with me?”
I look at Taylor and she half shrugs, half nods. “Yeah, OK,” I reply. I really just want to stay up here with Taylor, but I don’t want Mum getting even more suspicious. Or spotting the bottle of wine on my bedside table.
“OK. You’d better come down now, then. I’ve got to be back in half an hour.”
The second she’s gone, Taylor breathes out an enormous sigh of relief. Then she leans forward and points at the seams on my top. It’s inside out. I laugh and move toward her.
“Not now, we’ve got to go down,” she says, getting up from the bed.
“Mmm, is that a promise?”
She kisses my ear. “Well, if you can wait half an hour . . .”
“So, what exactly do you do, Taylor?” Mum asks as we tuck into a pasta salad.
“I work in computers.”
The room freezes. My mouth stops chomping.
“I thought you said she worked at a café, Ash?”
“Yeah, she does,” I falter.
“I design websites, Mrs. Walker.”
“Call me Julia,” Mum says. “So you make websites? That’s interesting.”
“Yeah. I’m, er, I’m designing one for the café.” She smiles at my mum. The girl’s a genius.
“Really?” Mum stops eating and seems to actually notice Taylor for the first time. “Hey, maybe you could help me.”
“Mum, what do you need a website for?”
“Not me personally. Work,” she says. “Their website is clunky and dull. I’ve been saying for ages we need to update it.” She speaks to Taylor, even though it was me who asked the question. She’s hardly met my eyes since she walked in. I don’t even want to think about whether she noticed anything in my bedroom.
“What kind of thing are you after, Mrs. — Julia?”
“Well, you know, nothing fancy. Just something clear and easy to use.”
“I could come and have a look if you like,” Taylor says.
“That would be great.” Mum smiles. “Have you got a card or anything?”
Cool as anything, Taylor reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a card. “Give me a call anytime and we can fix something up.”
“Or I could just go to Cat’s café and find you.”
“She’s not there anymore,” I butt in quickly. “She’s just about finished the site for them, haven’t you?” I glare at Taylor.
She nods quickly. “Yeah,” she says. “Better just to give me a call.”
It’s so obvious we’re lying. Miraculously, Mum doesn’t seem to notice.
She puts Taylor’s card in her pocket. “Lovely,” she says. “Thanks for this.” Then she gets up to take her plate to the sink. “Right, I need to get back. Don’t forget the plumber, Ash. Nice meeting you, Taylor.”
“Yeah, you too, Julia.”
I hold my breath till I hear the front door close. Till I can relax again.
“That was close,” Taylor sighs. “I’m glad she didn’t ask me where Cat’s café is because I haven’t got a clue.”
I lean on my hands and look across the table at her. “I’d like to get to know you more,” I say.
“Yeah, I’d like to get to know you more as well,” she says shyly and smiles at me with her gorgeous eyes.
I slide around the bench over to her side. “Wasn’t there something you promised me about half an hour ago?”
She turns her face close to me. “Now, what was that? Maybe you’ll have to remind me . . .”
A moment later, her lips meet mine, and I pray the plumber will be late.
End of August. Beginning of the night. My eighteenth birthday. Half an hour till the others are here. Everyone’s coming to our house for dinner. Everyone except Taylor, that is. She’s working late, but she’s going to meet us afterward. We’ve met up four times in the last two weeks and either texted or called at least ten times a day in between.
Mum pokes her head around the door. “All set?”
This is my chance. I’ve got to find out what’s going on between us, why all our communication seems to have broken down. And more than that, I’ve decided, I need to tell her something. Whatever the risks.
“Mum?” I’m going to do it. I really am.
“Damn, I’ve just remembered, I didn’t get any soda water. I’ll just pop to the store. Can it wait?”
I nod.
I mustn’t lose my nerve. I’ve got to tell her.
We used to go to this place in Wales every year at spring half term. A little B and B with a long back garden that led down to a stream. On the other side of the stream, there was a tree with a big thick branch that reached right across the water, and a rope hanging down from the branch.
There’d always be a crowd there on a Saturday evening: small groups of girls giggling and twirling their ponytails and chewing gum, skinny lads who’d climb the tree and swing across the stream on the rope. It wasn’t very high or very wide, so it never looked all that difficult — from my side of the river anyway. You just had to grab the rope and swing across.
If it was hot, the lads would take off their shirts and clamber along the branch, some of them thumping their chests and letting out a Tarzan call, others nervously holding on to the tree, knees shaking. They’d shout “Geronimo!” as they grabbed the rope and swung across, and the girls would scream and clap their hands over their mouths and eyes until they heard the landing splosh on the other side of the stream.
Cat came with us once and, being Cat, she decided if it was good enough for a gang of skinny lads, it was good enough for us. So we went down there in our shorts and T-shirts and sneakers on a hot Saturday afternoon and climbed the tree. Glancing down at the swirling water below us, I realized that it looked a bit higher from up here.
Cat swung across straightaway, no problem. Then it was my turn. I held on to the branch with both hands, looking down. Frozen.
A group of hikers stopped to watch, and I kept thinking, Right, this is it. I’m
going to jump. I’m going to do it now. I let go of the branch, took hold of the rope, and felt my heart speed up. I’m going to do it. Now! And then I chickened out and grabbed the branch again.
Some of the hikers started to move away; a woman with red cheeks and white hair and a map in her hand smiled broadly at me. She looked right into my eyes, and then she said something I’ve never forgotten: “You can do it, you know. I’ll hold my breath while you jump.”
So I did. I took the rope in both hands and swung across. It was so easy I felt a bit stupid as I landed in the shallow water on the other side.
As I landed, I could hear the hikers cheering. I looked up. The woman with the white hair waved and clapped. “I knew you could do it,” she said before she moved off.
And she’d been right. The worst part was the fear — looking down at the rushing water that seemed miles away. But once you were on that branch, there was no going back.
There’s no going back now either. I need this said.
Cat arrives just as Mum’s leaving. Then Jayce and Adam turn up, without Elaine and Dad.
“Mum’s driving me mad, fussing and faffing around,” Jayce says, coming in and taking his coat off as Adam joins Cat in the kitchen. “We thought we’d go out later, so we’ve come in Adam’s car. You going to come out with us after the meal?”
“I was thinking of coming out before it, actually,” I say nervously as we follow Adam into the kitchen.
“Huh?”
I tell them my plan, my hands shaking along with my voice.
Jayce grabs me and gives me a quick squeeze. “Oh, my God, Ash. You’re so brave!”
“I wanted to tell her before everyone came round, but she’s buggered off.”
“Probably knows what’s coming,” Cat laughs.
I cover my face with my hands. Oh, God, why am I doing this?
Adam leans into Jayce’s shoulder. “Why don’t you do the same? Get your mum off your back once and for all?” He turns to me. “Only yesterday she told him about this girl she’d met at the butcher’s. And Jayce is a vegetarian as well as everything else!”
Jayce doesn’t say anything.
I look at him. “Why don’t you?” I say softly. “Might make it easier for both of us if we do it together.”
Jayce looks at Adam, then back at me. “D’you know what? Sod it. I’ve waited long enough,” he says. “I’m sick of pretending. I’m tired of saying nothing when Mum goes on about marriage and grandchildren. I’ve had enough of telling lies. Ash, let’s do it. You tell your mum; I’ll tell mine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Not in the slightest, but I’m in.”
“You mean you’re out,” Cat corrects him. It makes us all laugh.
“Then, yes, let’s do it,” I say.
“Here.” He passes me a glass of wine. “This might help.”
I raise my glass. “No going back?”
He clinks his glass against mine. “No going back.”
Then the doorbell rings.
“Here we go,” Jayce says as I get up to open the door for Dad and Elaine.
“Hello, darling,” Elaine says brightly. She gives me a peck on the cheek, then wipes the spot with her thumb. “Where’s the present, Gordon?”
Dad follows her into the house and hands me a heavy box wrapped in shiny paper with cartoon animals on it. “Happy birthday, love,” he mumbles, stepping nervously into the living room.
“Mum’ll be back in a minute.”
“Right,” he says casually, his eyes darting around the room. He’s not been here since last year.
“Ooh, what you got there?” Cat is behind me.
“Hi there, Cat,” Dad says. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks, Mr. Walker,” she says, a bit over-politely. I’m not sure she’s ever been a hundred percent convinced he never did anything wrong.
Jayce comes over to join us.
Elaine rushes over to him and starts fiddling with his shirt. “I should have given this an iron,” she says. “I told you not to rush off this morning.”
Jayce shrugs her off. “Mum, lay off, will you? I’m not a kid.”
Elaine turns back to me. “Why don’t you open your present, Ashleigh, darling?”
I pull at the paper to reveal a massive dictionary and a collection of contemporary poetry.
“Your mum said the book is on your course book list,” Dad says. “It was Elaine’s idea, actually.”
“They’re brilliant. Thanks, both of you.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Elaine says, beaming.
Dad hangs his and Elaine’s coats up in the cloakroom as Luke and Robyn arrive.
“Happy birthday,” Robyn sings, hugging me tightly and handing me a present. I rip it open — three fluffy notebooks and a fountain pen. They’re not exactly my kind of thing, but it’s such a thoughtful gift and they’ll make me think of Robyn and smile when I use them.
“Thought they might come in handy. You know, for your studying and stuff. Or you could use them as diaries,” she says.
I smile and give her a quick hug. “Thank you.”
“All right, mate.” Luke thrusts a bottle-shaped present into my hands.
“Cheers, Luke. Nice one.”
Mum arrives with two bottles of soda water as I’m shutting the door. She pauses to take in the scene.
“Dad’s in the kitchen,” I whisper. “With Elaine. You OK with that?”
“Yep, fine. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve seen them together.” Then she slaps on the secretary smile she reserves especially for get-togethers with Dad and Elaine and heads for the kitchen.
“You ready for this?” Cat whispers.
“Not remotely. But I have to do it,” I say, realizing my words are starting to slur a little. I’ve had two glasses of wine already. “What have I got to lose?”
Mum’s talking to Dad and Elaine as I enter the kitchen. I notice Elaine’s left hand is clenched tightly as she talks.
“Ashleigh.” She gives me a hug I didn’t ask for as I join them. “We were just saying — you’ve done yourself proud, getting into university. You’ll be a graduate before Jayce even starts a course, by the looks of things.”
“You all set for it, love?” Dad asks, looking awkward and out of place in a kitchen he owned for twenty years.
“I hope so.”
Jayce stands next to me in the doorway.
“When am I going to do it?” I whisper. “I can’t get Mum on her own.”
I’m sure she suspects. She doesn’t want to hear it. She’s doing everything she can to avoid giving me the chance to tell her. Well, tough. She’s going to have to listen. I’m not going to hide what I am just because she doesn’t like it.
Jayce pulls me into the living room. “Why don’t we just tell them all?”
Tell Dad?
“You’ll have to tell him one day,” Jayce says, reading my mind.
“Oh, God, whose stupid idea was this?”
“Yours,” he says, laughing. “And it’s a good one. We’ll do it together. All of them in one go.”
I take a deep breath. “OK.”
He tosses a coin to see who goes first, and I lose as I knew I would.
“Good luck.” Jayce hugs me and nudges me back toward the kitchen. “I’m right behind you.”
I pour myself another glass of wine, knock it straight back, and pour another one for afterward. My heart’s pounding so fast and so hard in my chest that it’s snatching my breath away. I feel like I’ve just run a mile.
Everyone’s in the kitchen.
OK, here we go.
“Um . . .” I say in a quiet voice. No one looks up. They’re deep in conversation. Why am I doing this?
Jayce comes to my side and clears his throat. “’Scuse me,” he says, his voice wobbling.
Elaine looks up. “What’s the matter, darling?”
This is it, then. Last chance to escape. I could sneak out, run off, make something up.
“There’s . . . um . . . there’s something we want to tell you.”
Elaine turns to me. Mum and Dad stop talking and look over at me too. I stare back at them, not seeing anyone.
“What is it, love?” Mum says quietly.
How long have I been standing in front of everyone, a full wineglass in my hand, my mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out?
I glance at Mum. I think about what she’s been through this year — what we’ve been through together. How it felt, for a while, as if we’d become best friends, and then how it all seemed to change — how we somehow stopped being able to communicate with each other again. I look at Dad, smiling benignly at me from a million miles away.
Will this bring us closer or make that chasm impossible to cross forever?
Then I think about the white-haired woman with the map. No going back. I’m letting go of the branch, reaching for the rope.
“I, er, I just want to say thanks for the presents,” I mumble.
Dad smiles.
Mum looks surprised. “Is that it?” she asks.
Just do it. Just say it. It’s only fear.
“No,” I whisper.
The kitchen is totally silent.
I’ll hold my breath while you jump.
“There’s something else, something I want you to know.” It doesn’t matter if neither of them can look you in the face again, I keep saying to myself. You’re going to university next month.
Jayce nods at the glass of wine in my hand that was meant for afterward, and I take a slug of it. He smiles at me and takes hold of my hand while I carry on. “I don’t know if you’ve guessed already, or if it’s going to come as a shock”— I take another gulp of wine and wipe my mouth —“but I’m gay.”
Silence.
“That’s it. I’m gay.”
Mum stares at me.
Dad looks at me, then at Jayce. “But I thought . . .”