Page 91 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

GrahamLeeton:I get the distinct impression you’re fishing for clues about my age again, so I’ll put you out of your misery. Partly. I tick the age 25–40 box on questionnaires…

GrahamLeeton:And my favourite childhood sweet treat was a trip to the Woolworths pick’n’mix. Not that it happened often – probably what made it such a treat.

I’m so elated about Dylan’s late middle-aged man prediction being wrong, I almost miss the follow-up message Graham sent straight after sharing this revelation. As I’m reading it, I find myself reminiscing fondly on my own rare memories of the Woolworths pick’n’mix – but with Dylan’s mum as chaperone. Mine never took me anywhere nice; not that I remember anyway. I do have hazy memories of being very young, and my mum being more caring and protective of me. But it’s hard to know if those memories are real, or a fantasy my mind concocted out of sheer longing for parental love and affection. Because if itwasthere at some point, it meant I wasn’t completely unwanted, and itcouldreturn. As these thoughts are swirling in my head, something twigs in my mind. I scroll back to slightly earlier in our conversation, stopping at Graham’s statement related to his favourite film. I read and reread the text in front of me.

GrahamLeeton:Nope. Watched it at home on a VHS recorder borrowed from my uncle (I assume you’re old enough to remember those?). Cinema trips weren’t something my family could afford. Same question back at you, what’s your favourite film?

He’s mentioned things being tight when he was a child, not once, but twice. Either he’s unaware of this, or he’s trying to give me a hook into a conversation that’s more personal. But if it is a hook, do I want to follow up on it? If I probe about his childhood, he might ask about mine. I’m not sure I want to go there.

Realising that the next stop is mine, I put my phone away, get off the bus and use the brief walk along Bonnington Road to weigh things up. If I want to get to know this guy properly, I can’t hide who I really am. The good thing is that I can reveal it without having to look him in the eye and see his reaction.But it’s just too painful, the still raw part of my mind protests. I don’t want him to know that I grew up in my own filth, that my mum was continually hounded by social services for serious neglect; that my dad was a vicious and violent man. Even if Graham grew up with not very much, it’s unlikely it was as bad an environment as mine. It sounds like at least he may have had parents who loved him.

As I’ve been battling with this dilemma, Graham has been waiting for a response and is clearly wondering what’s going on.

GrahamLeeton:Not disappeared again, have you?

Realising I need to reply, I let myself into my apartment, hang up my coat, and quickly send a response.

MissGinFizz:Sorry, no. Was walking last bit home. And also contemplating something.

GrahamLeeton:Well the Woolworths pick’n’mix is a deep topic. You take your time. ;)

I let out an involuntary giggle as I hop onto the couch and power up my laptop so I can shift the conversation to it. Oh, for goodness’ sake, Liv. This guy – whoever he is – he’s spent hours talking to me, exploring the issues of the world with me, making me smile and laugh. I’ve connected with him mentally and emotionally in a way unlike anyone I’ve ever met. If there’s anyone I can share my shame with, it’s him. But maybe I’ll just dip my toe in at first. I need to know his circumstances before I even think about sharing mine.

MissGinFizz:Ha ha, very funny. Actually, I had just noticed that you’ve made a couple of references to things being a bit tight when you were young.

I leave it as a statement, allowing him to share if he wants to, but also to change the subject if he doesn’t.

GrahamLeeton:Did I?

GrahamLeeton:So I did. Yeah, my childhood certainly wasn’t one of milk and honey. Made me appreciate the good things when they came along though. Some kids have so much these days, it just baffles me. How do they learn the value of anything when they start off with everything?

MissGinFizz:I think the answer is: they don’t. Unless they’re left to fend for themselves when they grow up – rather than being propped up by wealthy parents.

GrahamLeeton:Well, I may have grown up in a high-rise block, where the paper-thin walls meant there were no secrets. I shared a tiny bedroom with my two brothers, wore their hand-me-downs and played with old tyres on a derelict building site. But I understand and appreciate having a more financially stable life now. I don’t want more and more. I’m happy with what I’ve got. Unlike a lot of people, it would seem!

MissGinFizz:I get the impression you feel quite strongly about this. :)

GrahamLeeton:Yeah, sorry. Went on a bit of a rant there. :)

MissGinFizz:Not at all. I liked it. So your family struggled then?

I wince as I read my question back, wondering if I’m pushing things too far, but Graham seems quite happy to share.

GrahamLeeton:We did, yes. But we stuck together, especially after my mum died. That was when my brothers and I were still in primary school. My dad had to work two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, as well as looking after us. Our neighbours were our saviours, caring for us when Dad was out at work.

MissGinFizz:Right, wow. I’m so sorry to hear this. No wonder you feel strongly about this stuff.

GrahamLeeton:You don’t need to be sorry. The only thing I’m sad about is that I hardly remember my mum. The way I grew up made me who I am. I’m really proud of where I came from. And very open about it – I actually use my story to help inspire young people in similar situations.

I suddenly feel all shivery and goose-pimply as I read this last comment. And to my horror my eyes begin to well up. I have to tilt my head back and blink furiously to stop them spilling over. He’s been through hell in his life, but he’s proud – and making a difference. I feel quite overwhelmed and confused by this. I’ve never felt proud of my background. I’ve always tried to bury it, too ashamed to admit that my family were losers who had nothing, who didn’t even try to fight through, and just thought they should be handed the solutions. I guess that’s the difference. Graham can be proud of his parents. I can’t be proud of my mum or dad. And I can’t possibly share my own situation because I don’t have a story that’s anything like that.

Feeling simultaneously relieved and confused, I try to lift the conversation to a more general level to avoid any questions about me.

MissGinFizz:Well, good for you. That’s so admirable. I’m sure we’ve said before that those who grow up with it easy haven’t the first clue what it’s like for others. They live in a different world entirely.

GrahamLeeton:Absolutely. So, what about you, MissGinFizz? I seem to remember you feeling quite strongly about this stuff before as well. Do you have a story to share?

For a few moments, I can’t breathe. My attempt to divert the conversation has failed. Now I have three options: tell the truth, lie, or avoid the question entirely. I know choosing the latter two will probably only cause me further issues in the future – if I actually have a future of any kind with this guy.

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