Out and Proud

by Lisa Young

  LOTTIE COLLECTED HERSELF. She was pretty sure the shop assistant was beginning to lose patience with her. How was she supposed to know Archie’s chest size, for God’s sake? She ought to have probably known his shoe size however, as she imagined that would be the sort of thing that a yummy mummy would have ingrained in their memory. But between dealing with her chaotic household, which still included a batch of seemingly unrehomeable kittens—mental note to re-advertise the furry nightmares—and her hideous job, she didn’t have a lot of time for the finer details of life.

  She sighed to no one in particular, as she remembered she’d also promised Alice she’d call in at the registrar’s office to see about the process for booking the wedding. Unlikely now, at this late hour. Hopefully a search engine would provide the relevant information.

  THE REST OF the weekend passed in a blur, with several unsuccessful attempts to palm the now adolescent kittens off onto the neighbours. For some reason, whenever a prospective kitten mummy came to the house, the aptly named Stripe would corral the troops and put on a phenomenal display of anarchy including curtain acrobatics and blatant furniture spraying.

  She was pretty sure he had terrorised them into submission as she found the individual kittens very sweet away from his demonic influence. After smiling politely at the back of the latest empty-handed visitor, she sighed in despair as she looked at Stripe. She would later swear to Alice that he smiled in a smug selfsatisfied way before depositing a smelly parcel on her best rug.

  Shrieking in utter rage, Lottie launched herself at him, missing his body and landing precariously close to the smelly mound. Apparently unfazed, Stripe strutted forward, swinging his tail high as he paraded out to the kitchen for a pre-dinner snack, or to be more precise, to relieve Odie of his dinner until he had his fill while the anxious Odie waited patiently by his own bowl for permission to eat Stripe’s leftovers.

  “Things have got to change in this house,” growled Lottie as she scrubbed the unforgiving stain on the rug.

  THE NEXT MORNING, the late summer sun shone brightly through

  the bedroom window. Reaching out, Lottie was disappointed to find a cold spot where Alice’s warm body should have been. Emotion welled up inside her as the realisation of Archie’s first day dawned upon her. With a heavy heart she made her way across the hall to Archie’s room which was also mysteriously empty. Wandering down to the darkened end of the landing she knocked tentatively on the man cave door. After no response and a dignified period of waiting, she cracked open the door to discover an empty bed, already made, and curtains open. “Who’s abducted my family?” Lottie mused aloud, as she grabbed her robe and hurried down the stairs towards the kitchen.

  The smell of fried bacon rose the length of the staircase to greet her and she smiled with relief as she rounded the corner to be met with the sight of her lovely little family chattering around the breakfast table.

  Alice grinned. “Grab a seat, love. I’ve done us some veggie bacon and mushrooms.”

  Not for the first time, Lottie’s heart filled with pure love for Alice, who had clearly risen extra early to pre-empt the chaotic preparations for Archie’s first day, and the traumatic process of leaving the house for the school bus.

  In the corner, she spied his new school bag complete with packed lunch and a full gym bag. At the side were his wallet, his watch and a fully charged mobile phone. Archie was dressed and ready, looking remarkably bright and clearly feeding off the positive energy being exuded by Alice, who was entertaining his chatter and depositing positive affirmations to encourage his belief that new friends would be his for the picking.

  When Lottie had made the decision to change Archie to the local high school she knew this would inevitably mean him leaving behind his small and hard-earned friendship group from the primary school he had attended. Wanting to foster in him a more independent spirit, she had made a calculated choice to place him at the local senior school in the hope that he would develop more of a social life in his home area. However, as the start date had beckoned she had become increasingly doubtful that she had done the right thing.

  With his new mobile phone, Archie had made valiant efforts to maintain his links with his primary-school friends, but seemingly he had already been forgotten during the lengthy summer break, and his best and closest friend was not responding to his text messages. Lottie felt that this transition was going to be a testing time for them all, but she had tried not to burden Archie with her anxieties.

  Nevertheless, as she observed her close-knit clan interacting around the breakfast table Lottie was filled with a sense of immense pride in Alice—that she had both anticipated and managed this difficult morning in her practical and organised way, leaving Lottie with only one task, to wave Archie off at the bus stop. Gulping to stem the emotion once more, she joined them around the table.

  Robbie looked up from his plate briefly and, giving her a cheesy grin, he briefly patted her knee. “It’ll be okay, Mum. I survived, didn’t I?”

  She smiled back at him. “You certainly did, and what a lovely person you’ve turned out to be. You’re doing so well in your new school. New beginnings, eh?”

  A fleeting look of pleasure crossed his face before he grunted. “Shurrup!” The table erupted into laughter.

  A conspiratorial look was exchanged between Archie and Alice, and nodding at him, Alice turned to Lottie. “Babes, I’ve promised Archie a lift to school today. I know you want him to figure out the bus, but he can do that tomorrow. Okay?”

  Lottie looked at Archie, who was struggling to make eye contact with her, and in that second, she realised that Alice had somehow managed to give Archie enough confidence to hit this day head on.

  Surprisingly, she felt neither rejected nor disappointed, but instead, felt a sense of peace envelop her. “Sure thing, kiddo, sure thing!”

  Fearing Lottie might change her mind, Archie hastily swept up his belongings, and slung the car keys across the table to Alice who caught them deftly. Giving Lottie a wide smile, she followed Archie out the door.

  When Alice texted later in the day she told Lottie that Archie had been worried about her coping with the goodbyes, and the fact that she might get upset had been weighing heavily on his shoulders. Lottie was so happy to know he had confided this in Alice, who had subsequently concocted the plan to be up and ready to leave, and that she had thrown in a lift for good measure.

  As Lottie plodded through her working day, she still felt a measure of anxiety about how he was getting on. However, a hurried illicit text at lunch allayed her fears.

  Got new friend, called Lou, she said tea at hers tomoz, okay?

  Lottie smiled, and for a moment allowed herself to hope that the transition had been easier than she had feared. Making a friend on his first day was surely a good sign, although no doubt Robbie would pour scorn on his efforts for making friends with a girl.

  That evening, Lottie saw a new Archie. Confident and chatty, he filled them in on the delights of the big school, including the unsolicited exercise he had undertaken as they ran to whistles from class to class, and the as yet unidentified dishes in the school bistro. He was filled with excitement about the prospect of visiting Lou’s house, which was in the next village, although Lottie was less than delighted to discover that her presence was also required, as Lou’s mum wanted to get to know some of the new parents.

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, another reportedly successful day in which Archie had his first French lesson, they had a rushed pre-tea snack and Archie and Lottie set out for the quaint village of Rosehearty.

  They parked next to Lou’s house, and were greeted by a gaggle of excited children. Archie disappeared into the centre of the group and was swept along the path and in through the front door. Alice hung back. Socialising was not one of her strong points and she had hoped that the dawn of the high school era would lessen her obligation to swim in the shark pool of the yummy mummies.

  Sighing with resignation, she
trudged up the path and rapped loudly on the now closed door. Before she had a chance to withdraw her hand, the door swung enthusiastically open to reveal a buxom woman with wild, red curly hair. Behind her was a tall, handsome man with a handlebar moustache. They both grinned broadly in greeting. Mustering up a smile, Lottie stepped into the crowded hallway where an assortment of women looked up to meet her gaze. Clearly, they were other trapped mothers desperate to further their children’s social lives.

  Feeling slightly more at ease, she allowed the woman, known as Wynona, to sweep her into the dimly lit living room, where an assortment of nibbles and drink choices were displayed on a heavy oak table. Sitting on the edge of the nearest sofa, eager to make ready an escape, Lottie was spared the embarrassment of starting a conversation by the enthusiastic Wynona, who imparted to her captive audience that hubby, with the porn star moustache, was vacating the building shortly for his bridge club. “After all, we don’t want a man encroaching on our ladies’ talk now, do we?”

  Lottie glanced at hubby who dramatically raised his equally fulsome black eyebrows in mock horror before grabbing his man bag and vacating the premises.

  Lottie stared jealously into the empty space left by hubby. The room fell silent, and she was conscious that the handful of twiglets she had been grazing on were causing her to make an unsociably loud crunching noise.

  Wynona’s wild eyes swept the room, before settling inevitably on Lottie, who smiled weakly in return, trying to keep the crunching to a minimum.

  “So…” Lottie offered feebly, following the protracted silence. Feeling forced into uncomfortable small talk she continued. “How lovely of you to go to so much trouble for us.”

  Looking around, she caught the eye of another visitor, who nodded mutely holding her twiglets politely in front of her.

  Feeling the need to continue to fill the awkward silence, she spoke again. “I’m Lottie, Archie’s mum. So lovely to be here.”

  Wynona nodded excitedly. “Indeed, indeed, so nice to meet the other mums. I was hoping we could get to know one another. You know how hard it is when children move schools.” The room muttered a mutual assent to this statement.

  Wynona continued on, oblivious to her own overbearing voice. “Bloody marvellous that we can do this, isn’t it?”

  None of the other women made eye contact with her.

  Oblivious to the undertone of apathy in the room, Wynona persisted. “Who watched Braveheart last night?”

  More nodding.

  Lottie found herself nodding along, even though she hadn’t watched it at all. After her primary school experiences with the yummy mummies she was not as keen to break from the herd. Anticipating harmonious inclusion by the senior yummy mummies she silently vowed to fit neatly into the background of this group for as long as she could.

  Wynona assumed an exaggerated dreamy look and leaning in conspiratorially towards the trapped women. “Mel Gibson! Wouldn’t kick him out of bed, would you?”

  Cackles rippled around the group as the women warmed to the topic of the ripped Mel Gibson and his atrocious attempt at a Scottish accent.

  Lottie failed to laugh along and found the eyes of some of the group quickly resting on her. Good God! Surely, they were not asking her. She wouldn’t have to out herself already, would she?

  Trying not to make direct eye contact with Wynona, she belatedly laughed along with the others, and tried not to offer any direct positive affirmation of her choice of bed mate.

  Wynona laughed loudly, downing the remnants of her large glass of red wine as she went for a refill, seemingly confident in her choice of topic. “Well, he’d be my choice anyway, girls.”

  More laughter as the group slowly relaxed and casually speculated on their choice of celebrity shag.

  Lottie recognised a feeling of impending doom. How did this always happen to her? The dull chatter around her filled her head. Wynona worked the group like an expert, refilling glasses and loitering in places where the conversation was stilted while she appraised her assembled group of new mummy friends. Lottie was already beginning to feel that she was under particular scrutiny.

  She was torn.

  On the one hand, she desperately wanted to fit into this new group without the past transgressions of her parenting faux pas to haunt her, but on the other hand she couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t—deny herself the opportunity to be who she was whatever the consequences.

  Suddenly she found that the opportunity presented itself. The group silenced as Wynona swept across the room to settle beside her.

  “Well, Lottie?” she questioned. “Mel Gibson, or someone else perhaps?”

  The silence felt deafening, and all eyes rested curiously on Lottie.

  Lottie squirmed with discomfort but taking a deep breath she answered. “Well, I mean, well goodness! What I mean is that I’m on the other boat really, so it would probably be Sue Perkins.”

  Wynona’s eyes narrowed. Lottie was aware that Wynona was deciding whether this was a joke or whether they truly did have a big hairy lesbian in their midst.

  “Well!” Wynona let that hang in silence for a moment as she scanned the room for responses from the group.

  All remained quiet, although Lottie detected at least one face which registered interested surprise at her brave coming out.

  Wynona, keen to maintain the easy conversation that had been developing so well eventually responded. “I have to say that Sue is a dahrrrling! Now then, ladies, who would you fancy if you were picking a woman?”

  Lottie cringed. Oh God, please! They were not all going to pretend to have girl crushes to make her feel included, were they? And yes indeed, that’s exactly what they did.

  There followed a two-minute stretch of increasingly uncomfortable conversation where the women took it in turn to be totally cool with the idea of a crush on a female celebrity.

  Lottie tried to smile along as Jo Brand and Germaine Greer were ranked in terms of their fitness—really? These were straight women with truly grim taste in women, Lottie was quickly concluding.

  The unsavoury discussion was brought to an abrupt end as Archie burst into the living room, looking distraught, followed by a gaggle of giddy girls. Lottie looked him up and down, struggling to identify what was different about him.

  His face was creased with stress, and then the smell hit Lottie, as she saw that he was dripping wet from head to toe. Holding out his hands towards Lottie he was struggling to fight back tears.

  Lou pushed forward towards the front of the group and crowed loudly. “Archie fell in the pond, eurrghh!”

  Between giggles she chanted out. “Pondweed Archie, Pondweed Archie!” A chant which soon turned into a chorus, “kissing the fishes, kissing the fishes!”

  Archie hung his head.

  Shamefully glad of an excuse to bolt, which momentarily clouded her concern for Archie and his own social ineptness, Lottie swept him towards the door.

  “Oh dear, how dreadful. Let’s hope the fish are okay. Come on, Archie, let’s get you home!”

  ON THE DRIVE home, Lottie recovered her motherly concern and commiserated with Archie on his clumsiness, while silently ruminating on her own outing.

  She hoped that Archie wouldn’t lose all of his social standing following one mishap. She, on the other hand, would no doubt be the topic of many a conversation between now and when they discovered that Archie’s other new friend’s dad was newly single. She had to bank on the fact that the gossip mill of senior education would not be as brutally efficient as the ruthless fact keeping memories that the primary school mums had the time to cultivate.

  Archie looked at her forlornly, and her self-indulgent ruminations were put aside as she tried to offer him ineffectual platitudes followed by a swift trip home via fast food drive-thru.

  While they both morosely contemplated their limp burgers, Lottie decided that it was probably not the appropriate moment to confess to Archie that she may have accidentally
damaged his chances of a repeat invitation to his new friend’s house, in spite of his own pond escapades.

  In reality, she felt very frustrated about her own innate need for truth and authenticity. She was beginning to think that honesty was overrated and that she ought to pay more attention to the bigger picture. After all, what harm was there is being a closet gay? All that she saw at this moment were the advantages. Why make others uncomfortable in her own quest to rectify the balance of her years in the closet?

  In so many situations she had faced this dilemma, where people had assumed that she was heterosexual, thus forcing her to either collude or to make some sort of statement. This had been the bane of her life since coming out.

  Initially, she had gone all out to try and wear an obviously lesbian wardrobe in order to make her status obvious. However, after a mammoth splurge in the men’s department of Debenhams she had reached the sad conclusion that her post-children body was not flattered by the slim-waisted clothing of the average male. Likewise, the high necks of men’s T-shirts did nothing to help her manage her obsession with her second chin. Following her failed make-over she had gone with a more obvious embellishment, obtaining a discreet tattoo on her wrist. Yet still, all this time later, it would appear that she was still not an obvious dyke.

  Reaching across the table, she patted Archie’s hand, as he looked up forlornly, and forced a smile. “Looks like I’ll have to find myself some more friends tomorrow, Mum,” he said.

  Lottie smiled at him. “You and me both, Archie.”

  Unexpected Departures

  SILENTLY CURSING, LOTTIE rubbed her sore knees and readjusted her position. For the past one-and-a-half hours, she had been crawling around her sitting room floor trying to work how three of the kittens, presumably led by Stripe, had found their way into the inside structure of the sofa, and wondering how to retrieve them. She only knew they were in there because she had completed three separate head counts. Missing were two of his more gullible followers who were now making their presence known from the depths of the sofa with a constant round of pitiful mewling. Stripe, on the other hand, was silent. Lottie knew that without his influence, she could easily coax out the other two with the leftovers of Sunday’s beef. She wasn’t too keen however, on putting her hand into the black abyss where, in the base of the sofa she had eventually discovered the entry point of the trio.