Page 24 of Great Sexpectations
Oh dear, porn? ‘Oh, they’re enjoying retirement, volunteering, charity work. They used to own their own business.’
‘Like a shop?’
‘Yes.’ We sell sex swings, Henry (fittings not included).
‘Henry is a local MP, you know. A borough councillor,’ says Alicia. And it’s then I realise where I’ve seen his face before. On flyers shoved through our front door, harping on about his brand of right-wing politics and agendas.
I pause for a moment to let that wash over me.
‘Important work, that,’ I mumble, taking another gulp of wine, letting the earthiness swim around the inside of my mouth.
‘Well, I like to think so. Just doing my bit for society.’
My stomach churns slightly to think of the nature of those flyers. Mum used to put them straight in the bin, occasionally using them to pick up dog faeces in the house. I get the sense that all the people around this table are similar in terms of their beliefs. And then there’s Cameron. Seriously, did they adopt him?
I down half a glass of Barolo to hide my obvious discomfort. I think I need to pee, but I definitely don’t want to be nipples out, sitting on the loo, facing their happy family portrait. Just grin and bear this, Josie. You’ve been in worse dinner-party situations. Remember that time in Shanghai when you ate a fish eyeball? I can’t tell what is worse, though. Why am I here? Because about a week ago, in some drunken party haze, I thought I might have a connection with this man next to me? I’m not sure if this is worth the pain.
‘But that is just scandalous. I would complain. Deffo. Go to the governors with it,’ a voice projects with some volume from the other end of the table.
Cameron and I look at each other, trying to earwig about the nature of the scandal.
‘What’s got your knickers in a twist this time, Moustache?’ Cameron asks casually.
‘Sex education. In Year 3 at school. It really is ridiculous what they teach children these days, it’s too much too soon.’
‘Well, you only have to look at teen pregnancy statistics to know that none of it is working. It’s endemic,’ the doctor husband adds.
There are murmurs of agreement around the table and I put a glass to my lips.
‘Too much freedom, too much knowledge,’ Henry Cox proffers. ‘We give young girls far too much space to roam and spread their legs.’
When the words come out of this mouth, I snort and possibly inhale a bit of potato into my lungs. As they continue to gossip, Cameron’s head sinks further and further down and I lean into him.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.
‘Why are you sorry?’
‘Because of what I’m going to do next…’
I shouldn’t really because it’s his mother’s birthday, but it’s either this or letting certain myths perpetuate amongst this rather vile group of people.
‘Why is it the girls’ problem when they get pregnant?’ I suddenly ask.
The table goes quiet as I add my tuppence worth to the conversation.
‘To the best of my knowledge, there is usually a young man involved in the process of baby-making too,’ I explain.
Cameron’s sisters glare at me.What are you doing? You are a guest, you must nod and agree with us.
‘Babies are a joint responsibility. It’s also up to the man to understand boundaries, contraception, his part in the process. I don’t know where you get your statistics either, good doctor, but teenage pregnancy and STDs are actually on the decline in the UK because of sex education and greater access to support systems.’
The table is silent. Not because they’ve been silenced out of shame, but because I think they might be angry at me.
‘Maybe this isn’t something to be brought up over dinner,’ Alicia mutters.
‘But it was Heather who brought it up?’ Cameron says. ‘And Josie has a point. I don’t remember talking about sex in this house growing up. It was hidden away. Where else would I have learned about these things? It’d just be misinformation from the school playground. Porn?’
As he says that word, I feel my cheeks redden.
