Page 37 of The Way We Are Now

‘It’s been really lovely, Anna,’ Theo said formally. Politely. ‘I do hope we bump into each other again sometime. Hang on…’ He jumped out of his seat, made his way round to my side and opened the door for me. We stood on the pavement. A couple of curtains twitched. The bike riders, clearly uninterested, turned and made off.

I held out my hand, wanting contact, but not brave enough to lean into him and kiss his cheek in farewell. ‘Thank you for the lift and the drink.’

Theo appeared slightly surprised at my outstretched hand but took it anyway. ‘Anytime. Bye, Anna.’

‘Bye, Theo.’ Hell, I couldn’t bear this formality after feeling… what? A closeness to this man?

‘Well, I’ll see you then, Anna. Maybe bump into you in the library… or something…? If you call in to uni… maybe… before the long vac…?’

‘Yes, I’ll be over.’ I spoke quickly. ‘I have to see various people… you know…?’

‘Right, OK.’

Ask for my phone number, ask for my phone number… Maybe he thought we didn’t have a phone… not everyone did round here… ‘Right, OK.’ I smiled. ‘Well, thanks again, you know, for the drink…’

‘No problem.’ Theo turned back to the car, crossing in front of it, walking to the driver’s side, opening the door, starting the engine, waving as he pulled away.

‘Bye then.’ I put up my own hand, a rictus of a smile on my face, wanting to cry, wanting the connection with Theo Mandeville to go on and on. I stood as he drove down our road and then turned back to the house. The car suddenly stopped, reversed, stopped again and Theo jumped out of the car before walking back to me.

‘Look, Anna, I know you won’t want to. You know, totally against your principles and all that…’

I stared. ‘What?’

‘I’m expected to be at our May Hunt Ball. My parents hold it every year. Some damned tradition that goes back forever. Black tie do… Bloody nuisance to be honest, but you know…’

‘What?’

When I didn’t say anything further, my pulse racing so much I didn’t think I’d ever again be able to say any other word but what, Theo turned away again. ‘Forget it. Really, not your thing, daft of me.’

‘Yes, please.’ So, I did have other words in my vocabulary. As well, seemingly, as a willingness to totally abandon any principles I might hold about hunting, about poor little foxes.

‘Right.’ Theo walked back to me. ‘You’ll come then?’

‘I’m not sure what you’re asking?’ Oh, Jesus, I had a sudden awful thought: did they know they were going to be short-staffed at wherever this ball was going to be held? And his father had asked Theo to tout around his student mates to work the bar, to wait on tables, to clean up afterwards? ‘So, do you want me to come and serve? To clear up afterwards? I think I’m probably allergic to horses, so, you know, if the horses themselves are actually invited, it might not be a good thing…’ Shit, Exocet missile in force once more.

Theo stared at me and then laughed. Actually burst out laughing. ‘Anna, I’d like you to come as my guest. As I say, I get it if your principles won’t allow it.’

I breathed deeply, spoke calmly, stopped him in his tracks. ‘Thank you, Theo, that would be lovely.’

‘OK.’ He glanced up at the street name then at our front door. ‘Number forty-five? I’ll send you the invitation. It’ll give all the details… actually, Anna, your phone number would be good.’

I reached into my bag, realised the only bit of paper was one of the leaflets the main man at the NUM had given me and which I’d retrieved from the brown envelope, popping it into my bag as research material for the dissertation I was going to write back at uni. I quickly wrote down the number on the back and passed it over.

‘Thanks, Anna, I’ll be in touch.’

He set off once again and I walked – no, I floated – up our garden path and home.

12

‘So, listen, Les, our David might have just come out – isn’t that what they call it these days? – to being an ’omosexual, but we don’t know what kind of an ’omosexual he is and, at the end of the day, he’s our David, and…’ Mum paused, ‘…he’s all right.’ Mum’s face was a picture. While she’d never been backwards at coming forwards, saying what she thought, standing up for the underdog, when it came to anything to do with sex and what her grown-up children might be up to sexually, a sort of working-class northern puritanism still held sway. Whenever I’d spent the night over at John’s apartment in the town centre, I’d tell her I was staying over with Linda or Debs, two of the office girls at the NUM with whom I did often go out for a drink, or to Rebecca’s and Japanese Whispers, two clubs in the town centre. We both knew I was lying, but the lie served its purpose, and Mum also recognised I was an adult, back home only for the year, and, as such, wasn’t about to come the heavy parent with me. Funny though how she didn’t ever question my brother Les about where he’d been when he arrived home after a night on the tiles, bleary-eyed and smelling of booze, fags and sex before setting off for a shift down the mine.

‘Mum, what are you talking about – what kind of homosexual?’ I’d concluded that my elder brother, David, was possibly gay years ago, and had chatted to Dad about it on a couple of occasions. David hadn’t said anything to us and we’d both agreed that it was his business, but if he wanted to tell us, he would and we’d be there to support him any way we could. Here we were in the eighties but, in a small northern working-class community like ours, men were men and, unfortunately, homophobia was still rampant.

‘She means is our David going to be all limp-wristed like Mr Humphries on Are You Being Served? and that comedian Larry Grayson, or is he going to get dressed up in a bloody frock like Danny La Rue?’ Les was obviously very put out that his own brother had turned out to be ‘a bloody poofter’; that Les himself would get some stick with his own mates, with the older workforce and particularly down the pub where for a bloke to ask for a glass of wine, instead of the usual pint of Sam Smith’s, was apt to be treated, if not with actual suspicion, then certainly derision.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Les, grow up,’ I snapped. ‘You need to educate yourself, stop being so narrow-minded.’

‘Aye, well, you know all about me and education. I didn’t get the brains you and our David were given. I’m not afraid to admit I’m officially a retard…’ he started.