But She Is My Student

Home > Other > But She Is My Student > Page 21
But She Is My Student Page 21

by Kiki Archer


  He looked up at her angelic face and whispered, ‘Have you had an abortion?’

  ‘Of course not!’ she snapped, wondering how her dad could have possibly said that so calmly.

  ‘Well Sue, she is not pregnant either so we are ok there!’ He tried to joke but no one else was laughing. He lightly tapped her knee. ‘Shall I try and guess?’

  Freya pushed herself backwards on the four small wheels, away from his kindness, and away from his love, physically preparing herself for the emotional chasm she was about to create. ‘No, don’t be silly Dad.’ A tear slid down her pale cheek and she wiped it away. It had all be so clear and matter of fact. It was going to be apologetic but explainable. What she had not expected were her tears.

  Patrick rubbed his thinning brown hair and tried to make sense of the situation. ‘Are you in trouble?’

  Sue Elton had still not spoken.

  ‘No.’

  He gave Freya her space and rejoined Sue on the family sofa. Both sat motionless, just waiting.

  She breathed in deeply and held her breath. The seconds seemed to crawl and she closed her eyes. ‘I just need to tell you -’ her green eyes flashed open, more piercing than ever; she looked directly at them, ‘I need to tell you that I’m ...’ she swallowed, ‘...gay.’ She did not want to see their reaction and bent her head to stare at the black rhino skin material peeping through her legs. There was silence. She could not look up.

  Still silence.

  Freya breathed deeply and lifted her head to the brown flecked carpet, tapping her teeth between closed lips.

  Silence.

  She wiped away a tear. ‘Please someone say something.’

  What could they say? They were both cursing themselves; this was the one thing they had not accounted for. Scenarios had been discussed and silent strategies had been in place, most of which had been incredibly successful. How do we stop Freya smoking? Meddling with Drugs? Wearing too much make up? Getting in with the wrong crowd? Having sex? Getting pregnant? How do we ensure she does well at school? Wants to learn? Goes to University? Settles close to home? But not this! The thought of needing a strategy to stop her from becoming a lesbian was just incomprehensible. Look at her. She was beautiful. Why would it even cross their minds? If only it had; maybe then they could have avoided this ridiculous scenario.

  ‘Oh don’t be so silly Freya. Of course you’re not.’ Her Mother spoke with scorn and reached for her mug of tea.

  Patrick felt a deep pain for the daughter he thought he knew. ‘Sue, don’t.’

  ‘What Patrick?

  He turned to his glaring wife and spoke quietly, ‘If we would have discussed this then I am sure we would have decided to let Freya feel like she can experiment with her feelings,’ he lowered his voice even further, ‘and then we would have nudged her in the right direction.’

  ‘That’s what I’m doing.’ Sue Elton looked up and stared at her daughter, ‘You young lady, are not gay.’ The words were cross.

  Freya stared at the pair of them sat awkwardly on the edge of the cream sofa. They looked like they had just had a massive row. The tension between them was obvious, both blaming the other for missing sexuality off the ‘to watch for’ list. ‘I’m sorry Mum but I am.’

  Sue slammed her mug back on the floral tray and tea splashed onto the glass coffee table, ‘Freya you are not.’ She shifted her body even further forward on the cream cushion so her daughter could feel her full force, ‘I don’t know what on earth has gone on. Some ridiculous experimentation ... encouraged by Jodi no doubt.’ She turned to her husband, ‘We should have watched that. Why did you not watch that?’ She was furious with him, but turned calmly towards the black chair. ‘Freya, you are not gay.’ She spoke with her hands, ‘You are my daughter and I know you and you, my darling, are not gay.’ She nodded in confirmation and reached for her mug, now dripping wet.

  Freya’s transition was one she remembered from her early teenage years. The belittling would begin and her anger would build. She had gradually learnt to control it and actually pity her mother for her righteous piety, but now it was back; the only way to express herself was to lash out, ‘I am gay mother!’ she shouted.

  ‘No you’re not!’

  ‘Sue.’ Patrick had spent many an afternoon playing referee then eventual peacemaker and could see the signs a mile off. This would blow up and Freya would act out in the worst possible way just to spite them. What would be the worst possible way now? He panicked, exams were round the corner. ‘Let her explain Sue. Don’t talk. Just listen.’

  Freya was shaking. How dare she? ‘I am going to stay calm, but I am only going to say this once. I do not have to explain anything. All I am doing is letting you know that I am gay.’

  ‘Letting us know?!’

  Patrick scowled, ‘Sue, stop it.’

  Freya was breathing deeply and trying her best to contain it, ‘Yes. Letting you know. I am your daughter and your daughter is gay.’

  Her mother shook her head and looked down her nose, ‘Listen to yourself! Who on earth do you think you are?’

  ‘Right that is it!’ screamed Freya standing up and shouting at the pair of them, ‘Just get lost!’ It was all she could think of. She grabbed her keys from the wooden dish in the hall and ran out of the house slamming the red front door as she went. Her dad just managed to bang the back window of the pale blue Clio as it swerved into the road. Freya parked up two streets away, hidden behind a large white van. She was angry, but she was not stupid; she needed to calm down. She laughed with nervous adrenaline - that went well, but her smile quickly turned at the corners and her hot tears turned to pounding sobs. She leant her head against the headrest and looked at the fuzzy grey ceiling, feeling lost and alone, quickly turning to lock her doors - it was almost ten. Freya turned on the music and thought of Kat. Slowly but surely each deep breath seemed to deliver a surprising sense of calm. She remembered Kat’s inspiring wisdom and careful guidance and felt a quiet sense of relief; then a feeling of actual achievement. She had done it. It was out there. Kat had been right; the thought of other people now knowing seemed irrelevant. She was in control and they would have to like it or lump it. Freya pulled her warm phone out of her tight pocket. They know x she text.

  Kat had replied quickly, reassured that Freya was indeed the person she had judged her to be. Proud of you. K

  Freya knew her temperamental behaviour had improved a lot over the past few years but she still had it in her - the desire to make them pay, to teach them a lesson. Yes her dad had not been too bad, but he could have defended her, he could have hugged her, he could have told her mum to just shut the fuck up.

  Have just come out to parents. Didn’t go well. Any chance I can stay the night? P.S Sorry x

  Bea reached across to her oak bedside table and felt for her phone.

  Please do x

  ‘Oh darling, come in.’ Cal and Silva Belshaw wrapped their silky arms around Freya, ‘Family cuddle.’ They squeezed hard and the cool material of their expensive Chinese print dressing gowns felt calming. Freya peeped through their locked shoulders; strange but nice she mused.

  ‘Well done Freya,’ said Cal.

  Silvia nodded in unison and Freya could not help but stare at her white hair looking as magnificent as ever.

  ‘We are so incredibly proud of you, now go and make our daughter happy.’ They sang together and stretched out their hands signalling to the curved oak stairs.

  Intense, thought Freya, and definitely rehearsed.

  ‘Oh and by the way,’ Cal winked, ‘we have decided to stay in the granny flat tonight ... give you girls some space.’

  The distance between their bedroom and Bea’s was further than the distance from Freya’s house to her neighbours, and the thought that they would need to stay outside in the converted stables next to the garage was worrying; what on earth did they think was going to happen? She felt embarrassed. ‘There is no need, really.’

  Silvia raised an eyebrow, ‘You hav
en’t seen upstairs yet!’ She took her husband’s hand and they skipped off together with their arms around each other’s waists.

  Freya watched as Cal pinched Silvia’s bottom, and smiled at her subsequent playful squeal. The noise of their childish giggles disappeared as soon as the huge front door was closed and she heard the lounge fire crackle as she crept slowly up the ancient oak staircase. The imperfect floorboards creaked as she passed down the long wide corridor with its gorgeous oak panelling separating room from room which looked more splendid than usual in the soft low lights. Freya reached the large wooden door at the end of the landing. She knocked gently on a dark swirling knot and waited. She paused and clicked the iron latch down with her thumb. The door creaked open and she saw inside.

  Delicate pink and yellow rose petals matching Bea’s bold flower print wallpaper had been scattered across the white quilted divan. The wrought iron light fittings were glowing softly with the candle shaped bulbs turned to the lowest settings, and Katie Melua was playing quietly in the background. Bea walked towards her. She looked heavenly. Her white tuxedo boyfriend shirt hung just below her bottom and her warm white socks made her the perfect image of a La Senza model. She slowly moved her long dark hair over her head and looked at Freya with deep, penetrating brown eyes.

  Her inbuilt sexiness made Freya smile. ‘I haven’t got my pyjamas sorry.’

  Bea maintained her stare. ‘You look stunning. Where have you been?’

  ‘Coming out to my parents. I thought I would dress up for the occasion.’

  ‘Did it help?’

  Bea’s eyes pinned Freya to the spot; she was so intense, but so sexy, ‘No.’

  They stared in silence and Freya broke first, ‘Look I am so sorry.’ She took Bea’s hand and sat on the edge of the white bed. ‘I have been a complete idiot, I just -’

  ‘I don’t care. You have told them and now you chose to come here.’ She smiled, ‘That is all that matters to me.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She did not want to explain so picked up a delicate pink petal and inhaled deeply, ‘Is this for me?’

  Bea raised her eyebrows in exactly the same manner as her mother had just done, ‘No, it’s for Miss Spicer.’ She watched Freya’s eyes dart at her sarcastic comment so softened her tone, ‘Of course it is for you. You have my heart Freya and I want yours.’

  ‘Oh Bea,’ she drew her into a close cuddle and giggled nervously, ‘Do you want to hear about Saint Sue and her wonderful reaction?’

  Bea reached up to Freya’s lips, ‘I want you first.’

  Freya had been thrown by the strange comment and tried to behave as Bea would have expected, but as she looked at her full lips and intense stare she realised she did not have to try very hard. Bea was so enticing and so arousing that she leant forward and met the full lips with her own.

  Bea pulled back suddenly, ‘Can I ask you one thing?’

  Freya tried to concentrate.

  ‘Do you love me?’

  She looked at the large white bed and picked up another pink petal, piercing it with her curving nails. ‘You can’t ask me that.’

  ‘I just did.’

  She flicked the damp petal away and took Bea’s hands. ‘I have just experienced one of the worst moments of my life. I just destroyed the pride my parents had in me and I have finally committed to how I want to live my life.’ She bent her head and met the brown eyes, ‘I did that for you.’

  ‘Really?’ Bea stared intently.

  She glanced at the squashed petal on the deep pile carpet, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you sure there is no one else?’

  ‘No of course not, now come here.’ She pushed Bea onto her back and straddled her hips kissing her hard and silencing her questioning tongue.

  The music stopped and Bea rolled onto her side to switch albums. With one click it was done and she rolled back towards Freya eager to resume their highly charged connection, but Freya was now on her back staring at the old black beams that ran across the low ceiling. ‘How old is this house?’

  ‘This bit is about four hundred years, maybe more. Why?’

  ‘Do you know the history of it?’ She was genuinely interested.

  ‘No. Now come here.’ She tugged at her waist and Freya’s shirt fell loose from her tight jeans. Bea slowly eased her fingers into the gap and touched the warm, soft skin.

  Freya quivered, her sides were usually so ticklish but this she could bear.

  ‘Do you want to go and get ready for bed?’ She signalled to the wicker chair where the new toothbrush, soft pink towel and black silk pyjamas were neatly folded.

  ‘Am I staying in here?’ She suddenly felt anxious.

  ‘Only stay if it is me you want.’ Bea rolled onto her side and waited. After what seemed like an age she felt the bed creak and listened to the sound of slow footsteps heading across the room. She peeped back over her shoulder to see Freya closing the bathroom door. She waited until the lock clicked shut and then listened once again. The buzz was so quiet that she nearly missed it. Bea crept quickly off the bed towards the bag. It was Freya’s favourite multi pocket satchel, the one she flung across her body and wore with effortless style. Which is the bloody pocket? Bea squeezed the brown leather and its contents, coughing as she unzipped the small pocket at the top. Seven missed calls, two new voice messages all from her parents, and one text.

  She clicked on the text, Did it go well? Call if you want to talk. I really enjoyed tonight. K

  Bea pressed the delete button and scanned Freya’s inbox. She could hear the shower running. She quickly clicked on her outbox and was about to return the phone when she saw the message folder named Kat.

  Freya wiped the steamed mirror and looked at herself, What are you doing? She ignored her question and studied the vast array of creams and lotions on the black marble surface. She reached for the attractive container, Sensai Premier. The Cream, scooped a large dollop into her hands and rubbed generously onto her naked body. She used Bea’s cotton fresh deodorant and cleaned her teeth with the new yellow toothbrush. She looked at herself in the mirror, What are you doing? She pulled a face back, arched her eyebrows and raised her shoulders. She stepped into the black silk shorts and pulled the short sleeved buttoned shirt over her head. Bea was not Kat, but Kat was not here, and here was too hard to stop.

  ‘I think I heard your phone buzzing,’ said Bea as Freya crept out of the steamy bathroom.

  ‘Thanks. I really should let them know I am ok. Give me a minute.’ She reached for her satchel and sat on the end of the bed. Bea was under the covers. Seven missed calls and two new voice messages. She did not want to listen to them.

  Sorry I have disappointed you. I can’t help what I am. Staying at Bea’s x

  She switched her phone off. ‘Room for a little one?’ Freya smiled and her green eyes glistened.

  Bea threw back the white covers and Freya crawled slowly up the bed licking her lips and trying to look sexy. Her left wrist gave way and she fell face first into the duvet. ‘Ha! Look at me the pro!’ came the muffled giggle.

  Bea smiled softly, ‘Come here.’ She pulled her under her warm arm and kissed her forehead gently. ‘I am going to win,’ she whispered.

  ‘Win what?’ she questioned lifting her head to Bea’s.

  ‘Your heart.’ She rolled onto Freya’s toned body and pinned her hands above her head staring intently, ‘I want you.’ She kissed with a passion and a heat that stopped Freya from properly registering her next intermittent words. ‘And ... I always ... get ... what I ... want.’

  Mr and Mrs Elton sat talking, for once, in bed. They did not want to draw attention to their private family issue by calling friends and relatives and the idea of following Freya in the Volvo just induced visions of a high speed chase and horrific accident, a scenario slightly worse than the one they were currently discussing. So now with the arrival of the text they could relax slightly and really get stuck into solving the issue. Both blamed the other for failing to spot the danger of Frey
a’s close connection with her homosexual cousin, clearly Patrick’s fault for having a sister who produced a lesbian child. Both agreed that it was a combination of A - Level stress, lack of recent attention from boys and simple desire to act out - those days obviously not yet behind them. Freya was not really one to follow the fashion but after a quick search of “lesbian” on the internet they both realised that girls kissing girls seemed to be all the rage; maybe Freya’s attempt to get in with the popular crowd? The list of feasible reasons for her ridiculous statement grew and they took comfort that none fingered them as responsible. So the word phase was latched upon and they sat with pen and paper, brains in gear; a plan to be formulated.

  ‘What is the priority?’ Sue smoothed her long white nightgown.

  ‘A - Level’s,’ said Patrick without hesitation.

  ‘Agreed.’ A - Levels was written on the pad and underlined three times. She put the pad down and tapped the biro. ‘Did you ever imagine we would be sat here having this conversation?’ She did not give time for a reply, ‘I mean Freya? Our Freya? She has been a handful at times but this! It just beggars belief.’ She shook her head, ‘Where did we go wrong?’

  Patrick looked at his wife in her high necked frilly shroud, he loved her but she could be so cold at times; this was the most pillow talk they had experienced in years. ‘What if she is?’

  The reply was sharp and scolding, ‘Don’t you dare,’ she scowled. ‘Don’t you dare entertain this idea.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘Don’t you think we would have known if she was?’

  Patrick had fast learnt that an easy life was a quiet life and this involved him keeping quiet for the most part. ‘Sorry.’ He took her frosty hand, ‘Ok, plan of action. We ignore it.’

  Sue was frowning.

  ‘We ignore it, we don’t rile her, we don’t mention it, we just act like normal.’

  ‘Until?’ She released his grip.

  ‘Until she has finished her last exam, then we sit down and talk properly.’ He smiled hoping his reasoning had won her over.

 

‹ Prev