Page 96 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
I make it a point to call Lucy later. ‘I don’t think you can be very gay. It’s not something you define on a scale.’
‘Yes, you can. He had a friend called Marshall who painted himself silver and wore heels and feathers and once met Cher.’
I have no words. ‘That’s flamboyant, not very gay.’
‘Like Elton John?’ pipes in Eve.
‘Yes but no. So what else has Uncle Stu said to you?’ I hold my breath as there is plenty within this man’s remit which he may have chosen to share.
‘It was at the school gate the other week and there was a mum with a sign, George’s mum in Year 4. It said: “Stop Sexualising Children’s Innocence”. He went up and had words.’
‘Nice words?’ I hold my breath, grimacing.
‘Not really. She told him it was none of his business because he wasn’t a parent. He told her to shove her sign up her bottom,’ recalls Tess. I close my eyes very slowly.
‘And then he called her a piggot,’ adds Eve.
‘You mean a bigot.’
Tess nods. ‘And then he came home and sat us down and told us about stuff he’s seen. He has lots of friends who are different and it’s important we respect everyone and their choices in life. Except her because she’s a…’
‘Bigot.’ I nod. ‘And you’re telling me this now? Why not last week when it happened?’ I think of all the things they’ve chosen to tell me since, in depth conversations about what was eaten for lunch, who played with who and what colour their bowel movements have been.
‘I dunno. We forgot,’ replies Eve. I laugh. I hear the front door open and footsteps jog into the kitchen. A hooded figure appears.
‘Well, speak of the devil. Stuart, good morning.’
The girls and I all smile at each other. Tess shakes her head. He clambers to the sink and finds a child’s tumbler to pour himself a glass of water.
‘I’m here. I made it for the school run. I didn’t forget our meeting thing either.’ He gurns and slaps at his cheeks. Polly giggles at the hollow sound of the slap. This goads him to do it again.
‘Was it a nice sleepover that you had with your friends? Were there sweets?’ asks Eve.
Stuart looks at me. Indulge the child.
‘It were lovely, Steve.’
‘My name is Eve.’
‘Oops, I forgot again.’
She snarls at him. I look on as he steadies himself against the kitchen counter. When did I last do an all-nighter? I rewind my mind as far back as 2010: New Year’s Eve in London. It wasn’t even a big night out. There was wine, Scrabble and a cheese board. He empties his pockets on to the kitchen counter: receipts and coins, a johnny and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Tess studies the contents and gives me a look of both judgement and concern.
‘The girls were just filling me in on what happened last week with Kate, the mum.’ It looks like it’s painful for Stu to recall that far back.
‘Is she the gym bunny with the Lycra?’
‘No, she isn’t.’ I recoil to think about what else he’s been up to. ‘The one with the petition.’
‘Oh her, on the solo crusade to protect the children. Yeah, told her to do one. Don’t need that sort corrupting my nieces.’
‘Nice work.’ He studies my face for the sarcasm. This may indeed be a compliment that he has no idea how to handle. He nods back.
‘Anything else I should know while we’re all here gathered?’
Stu shrugs his shoulders.
‘Uncle Stu wrote his telephone number in my reading record because he fancies Mrs Robinson?’ announces Eve.
