by Lisa Young
A child walked alongside her chatting to his friend. “So like, I said like, you can’t do that, it’s like sooo gay!”
With a sense of foreboding doom, she glanced at Archie who was already staring at her with a look of disapproval. “See?” he mouthed.
At the gate she planted a firm kiss on his cheek but he scowled back. “Well?”
“Well, what?” she asked slightly confused, glancing once again at her watch which accused her of now being unforgivably late for work.
“Well, aren’t you going to come in and speak to my teacher?”
Looking around, she felt panic and dread creeping in as she mentally pictured the forbidding Mrs. Goodwin smiling through gritted teeth, as she edged towards her. Her eyes darted around for an escape route but nothing materialised.
With a resigned sigh, she humoured Archie. “But of course, sweetie.”
The overbearing heat of the classroom smothered her as she opened the door and she immediately felt a steady flush rising up her neck towards her cheeks, which were soon flaming red.
Unaware of her discomfort, Archie strode confidently ahead, exuding an air of superiority due to the moral high ground he was about to establish. He nodded at her in encouragement and took his place at his table with a ringside view of both his teacher and her ever-eager teaching assistant, Ms. Bentley.
With some trepidation Lottie proceeded. Inwardly, she acknowledged the fact that she was not a regular parent at the classroom door, so she was not surprised to be largely ignored by the teaching staff as they dealt with the regular parents, who were eagerly confirming the details of the arrangements for the upcoming visit to Loch Ness, where they were going to be parent-helpers.
There followed a painstaking wait of approximately three-and-a-half minutes—Lottie could state this as a fact because she had fixed her glare on the clock moving with sloth timing mounted above the interactive whiteboard. Sensing an ominous presence, Lottie looked sideways to witness Mrs. Goodwin approaching her. Gulping nervously, she glanced across at Archie who smiled broadly at her in anticipation of her superhero status as a social do-gooder. Squaring her shoulders and forcing a smile to her face, she moved to meet Mrs. Goodwin half way and was greeted with a quizzical but not unfriendly smile in return. “Hello, Mrs. Goodwin. I’m Archie’s mum.”
“Oh yes, of course, dear. How can I help?” she replied. “Nice of you to pop in.”
“I just wanted to have a quick word on Archie’s behalf, as he mentioned to me that he’s been a bit upset about something that some of the children have been saying.” She paused as she built up to what she feared would be the grand finale.
Mrs. Goodwin’s attention wandered to the handsome dad who had just escorted his daughter in.
Flustered by her distracted audience, Lottie blustered on. “Apparently, he’s overheard a lot of children describing things as so gay which he doesn’t like, as he feels it’s offensive to gay people.”
Mrs. Goodwin’s brow furrowed, clearly struggling, as Lottie herself had, with the difficulty of this.
“I see dear, well, of course it’s just something that children tend to say, isn’t it? But, yes, I suppose he does have a point, although, it is just a saying, dear.” She smiled patronisingly.
Lottie could feel that she was rapidly losing her audience and that Mrs. Goodwin was already turning to make a beeline for the yummy daddy.
Trying to assume an air of authority, Lottie drew a deep breath and spoke loudly. “Well, yes, I understand that, and I did try to explain to him, but he’s struggling with it, and so I just wanted to, well, just to make you aware I suppose…” She trailed off, rapidly losing conviction and avoiding eye contact with Archie, who was watching avidly.
“It does seem a bit odd, dear, that he seems so bothered about this,” Mrs. Goodwin said.
Lottie could feel herself going through the various stages of pink to puce for the second time that day. “Well, you see, the thing is, well, it’s a bit awkward, but I’m gay,” she said, drawing in a deep breath.
Silence.
Lottie was vaguely aware of the noise level in the classroom dropping substantially. Having been focused on trying to keep Mrs. Goodwin’s attention, she hadn’t been aware that her voice had been gradually increasing in volume.
Mrs. Goodwin appeared to be lost for words. Her mouth flapped soundlessly as she struggled to process this impromptu personal disclosure.
Lottie became increasingly aware of the loud silence that had now engulfed the entire classroom and, as she cast a quick glance around, she was horrified to discover that the ever-eager teaching assistant was frozen mid dinner-money count. Lottie frantically avoided the gaze of the curious parents, becoming increasingly aware of the intense gaze of Ms. Bentley, who gave her an exaggerated wink. Lottie, froze, surely the bloody teaching assistant wasn’t coming on to her.
Several parents waiting to speak with the teacher had apparently been eavesdropping and were rather less obvious about this after Lottie’s revelation.
Lottie was literally at a loss for words, and swore inwardly at the situation she had found herself in.
Turning back to Mrs. Goodwin, she noticed that she too was struggling to regain her composure spluttering out words. “Well, that’s most unexpected. I would never have known!”
The clutch of parents pressed closer as they nodded to one another in silent agreement. “Although, of course though you are a Ms.” she seemed somewhat relieved to have identified this retrospectively significant sign.
Behind her she overheard a mother whispering to her coconspirator. “But she’s so pretty, how can she be gay?”
Enjoying the unfolding drama, Archie gave Lottie a wink. She managed a weak smile in return. Well, at least her humiliation had served to prove to her sensitive son that it was okay to be out and proud.
Mrs. Goodwin, now aware of her growing audience, was keen to achieve a green tick for diversity and reached out to Lottie to rub her arm in a consoling manner, before suddenly recoiling and snatching her hand back in horror, presumably thinking this may be construed as her making a sexual advance.
Keen now for the slow-motion car crash to conclude, Lottie smiled apologetically at Mrs. Goodwin before thanking her for her time and beating a hasty retreat to her car.
Now horribly late for work, she mentally berated Archie for being such a social activist and vowed to encourage him to watch more of the Disney channel, which was bound to increase his sense of self-preservation and selfishness. Coming out at nine to her son’s teacher had not been in her plan for the day. What next?
Ripping up her freshly completed application for the parent governor position, she gratefully headed for work and the oblivion of classified advertising.
Pet Rescue
DESPITE ALICE’S WARNING about Pru and her crew, Lottie decided she would give Pru’s Group another go. She was curious to see Pru again in her own environment, where she was sure that she would be able to establish whether lesbianage was high on Pru’s agenda. Aside from that, Lottie had something of an ulterior motive. In her most recent e-mail, Pru was launching her latest service as a specialist in pet massage. Despite pharmacological interventions by Alice, Boots continued to exhibit somewhat psychotic behaviour, but Lottie hadn’t given up and wanted to try something different. Pru had offered her service, at a not-so-discounted rate, to anyone who wanted to bring an animal to that night’s group.
Pru had told Lottie that she strongly believed pet massage brought great health benefits to animals and that she also felt having animals present at the group would bring her closer to her spirit guides. Lottie figured that anything was worth a shot for Boots, who had now caused serious injury to three people and counting. Fearing that he may end up on some type of cat death row, she intended to embrace Pru’s recommendation of a more unorthodox treatment with as much of an open mind as she could. There was also a small part of her that secretly hoped she might finally gain Pru’s
approval if Boots achieved a new-found sense of calm. Becoming one of her success stories would give Pru a chance of self-promotion which Lottie knew would stroke Pru’s ego. After exploring Dear Pru, Lottie had discovered a number of proclaimed success stories littered with claims of Pru’s miraculous talents and detailing her success with human—and now animal—misfits. Lottie marvelled at how self-serving Pru was, and she started to form the unqualified opinion that Pru exhibited significant traits of narcissism.
After a swift visit to Sainsbury’s, Lottie emerged with some
dried fruit, her contribution to tonight’s food table. The evening before, she had received a somewhat abrupt e-mail from Pru strongly suggesting she should bring this, and mentioning that she would be very pleased to see Mel again as she felt they had a connection. Lottie shuddered at the thought of Mel in the clutches of Pru, but, determined to please Pru, she embarked upon several desperate attempts to persuade Mel.
Mel had been unmoved by the promise of post-group wine and had firmly declined to attend. “I’ll end up a bloody dyke if you keep dragging me into this world, and if I’m going down that route I’m not gonna lose my lesbian virginity to that old crazy!”
Taking this as a fairly firm no, Lottie had consoled herself with the thought that she could redeem herself in Pru’s favour by taking the suggested offering of dried fruit, and by providing Pru with the ultimate pet challenge, Boots. However, keen to mitigate any serious or life-threatening injury to Pru, she had persuaded Alice to give him a mild sedative, and felt reassured that he would remain placid for his therapy session.
She wrestled with the broken clasp on the side of the carrier, mentally noting that she needed to get a new one soon if the pet therapy sessions were to become a regular event. She confidently patted the top of the box containing the sedated cat as she drove down the winding road towards the group venue.
As she pulled into the car park, she could just about make out the wild hair of the meek accomplice, Miriam, who appeared to be hiding around the corner of the ramshackle hall. Curious to see what she was doing, Lottie followed a plume of cigarette smoke which grew more herbal in its smell as she got closer. Not being particularly street when it came to recreational drugs, Lottie wasn’t sure at first if this was of the legal or illegal kind. After accidentally inhaling a lungful she tentatively ascertained that this was a herbal smoke of the illegal variety. This was soon confirmed by the startled expression on Miriam’s face as she was discovered.
She hastily extinguished her guilty pleasure. “Purely medicinal, Lottie. By the way, my friends call me Mim.”
Lottie chuckled to herself and gave the mellow Mim a reassuring rub of the shoulder before she returned to the car to collect the pleasantly catatonic Boots.
Well, that explains how she’s able to spend so much time with Pru then, Lottie silently concluded. As Lottie gingerly lifted the cat carrier from the passenger seat, she noticed Boots lazily open one eye to survey his new surroundings with some disdain. Nevertheless, he seemed mostly nonplussed by his extraction from the utility room and quickly returned to his drug-induced slumber.
Entering the hall, Lottie smiled and nodded as she joined an assorted group of women in the vestibule. She momentarily wondered why the group numbers had significantly increased since she had attended. Maybe Pru had advertised the event, and she couldn’t help but be secretly impressed by Pru’s success in marketing her dubious talents. However she had done it, word had clearly spread throughout the disparate lesbian community in the deep heart of the Scottish Highlands. Lottie murmured with delight when she saw that Pru was also carrying a cat basket, containing a beautiful, pouting, pure-white Persian.
Excellent, she thought, something we have in common, both cat lovers!
Despite the nagging doubt created by Alice’s disapproval of her continuing attendance at the group and her warning about Pru, Lottie had a good feeling. She felt that Alice was being somewhat disingenuous considering her own failure in performing the required miracle on Boots, despite her medical qualifications.
A smiled played around her lips as she fondly recalled their first meeting after an introduction from Virginia. Always attractive in her professional environment, Alice had conveyed the appropriate amount of concern and authority in her crisp, white veterinarian’s coat. Lottie had struggled to explain the severity of Boots’ mental health issues, due to her instant attraction to Alice. However, his issues soon became apparent when Alice received the first of several warning bites from Boots who was not impressed at being brought into such a sanitised medical environment.
Lottie recalled several subsequent visits to the surgery, arguably more as a reason to see Alice than for any tangible benefits obtained for Boots. Alice had recommended several products to dampen down Boots’ mania but none had the required effect. Lottie had begun to have sleepless nights about the limitations of her pet insurance policy after several excess policy payments, and the lack of success of the products recommended by Alice. Despite this, on her fifth visit and at the limit of her pet insurance, Alice had finally figured out the reason for Lottie’s frequent visits and had asked her out on a date.
Thereafter, Boots had been banished to live in the comfort and solitude of the utility room where his wrath need only be braved for access to the washer and dryer. The warmth and relative solitude seemed to have its own calming effect on Boots, and he could tolerate visitors to his room as long as they didn’t linger, or worse still, attempt to pet him without him explicitly requesting this by approaching them. The solution hadn’t been fool-proof though, and not even Lottie was immune from a corrective swipe from Boots if the mood took him.
Hurrying into the inner sanctum of the cold hall, Lottie clasped the carrier closer as her anxiety ramped up a notch. A variety of pets had been produced for Pru’s attention and Lottie felt concern for the safety of anything smaller than a Rottweiler in the same room as Boots. He had a well-established reputation for regular massacres of the local wildlife. More than a few greedy seagulls eating the final morsels of a picnicker’s feast, had lost their life to his SAS-type stalking skills. Most memorable, was an incident involving the neighbour’s Pekinese, who required a mechanical limb thereafter. Shaking the guilt of that bloody memory from her mind, Lottie took her seat as Pru repeated her strange and clearly well-practised entrance. Once again, using her feathered cloak to sweep across the heads of those seated close enough.
She introduced herself and welcomed those present to Pru’s Group, before casting a challenge to her audience that dared them to suggest an alternative name for the group. No one, including Lottie, took the bait.
Proudly surveying the full room, Pru began. “Welcome especially, this week to our animal companions. Please note I strongly object to the use of the word pets as it is demeaning to our fur-or-feathered companions. I would like to say that the presence of animal spirits has strengthened my connections to the spirit world and I intend to channel this through to our very own companions in an attempt to bring love and harmony to our gathering.”
Pru rose from the chair and invited her first subject to join her on the staged area. Adopting a shrill voice that could, quite probably only distinctly be heard by dogs anyway, Pru laid her hands firmly upon a frisky collie dog. Looking at her with mild interest, the dog easily tolerated her vigorous and frenetic rubbing and eventually submitted to a sitting position where he took the opportunity to sniff the feathers on Pru’s cloak. Taking his seated position as a sign of submission, Pru repeated her hand-waving ritual across the coat of the collie who looked on with an expression which definitely showed traces of amusement. “As you can see, friends, Alec the collie is in fact now connected to his spirit ancestors, hence his submissive position. In my world, I am aware that he is communing now with his spirit leader and so I intend to return to finish his massage later in the evening. Please could I ask for another volunteer?”
Lottie saw her opportunity and she took it. Beating a he
avily groomed pedigree poodle to the front of the queue, she eagerly thrust the cat carrier into the waiting arms of Pru.
Still not having quite forgiven her for the evening she’d spent in accident and emergency, Pru forced a smile through her thin lips to greet Lottie. “Well, dear, let’s pop him out. He’s no good in there is he?”
Lottie’s smile slipped. “Take him out? Holy fuck, no way!”
She inwardly panicked and looked up in horror as Pru reached into the inner recesses of the carrier, oblivious to the danger inside. Her huge hands firmly clasped Boots’s rear end, the only part on offer to her in that particular moment. Lottie felt her life was suddenly running in slow motion as she lunged towards Pru, determined to take the inevitable injury that would follow once Boots felt the contact of a human hand. Thankfully, Pru moved swiftly, and with uninformed confidence she lifted Boots free of his jail and clasped him closely to her ample bosom.
Lottie felt a cold sweat prickle her breasts as she reached out to retrieve the evil offender, but was unsuccessful, as Pru held him aloft to proclaim his magnificence to the audience.
To Lottie’s utter amazement, Boots nuzzled his bristly chin against that of Pru’s and she chuckled with delight. “So, dear, what is the problem with this friendly wee fellow?” she enquired, while tickling the upturned chin of Boots, who had his eyes closed and was purring with pleasure at the touch of the spirited one. Lottie was completed bemused by his behaviour, the
remnants of the anaesthetic surely? Taken aback by his sudden mood change, Lottie hastily revised her prepared speech about the issues Boots had, and instead offered a more feeble account. “A bit temperamental, Pru, but really he’s a pussy cat.”
