Out and Proud

by Lisa Young

  “The bloody Gardener!” Lottie shrieked.

  Robbie appeared breathless at her side. “Mum, don’t, not now!” he pleaded grasping her arm tightly in an attempt to stop Lottie from closing the gap between herself and M.

  Lottie spluttered, unable to find the words she wanted to say but managing a feeble accusation. “You stupid woman! You’ve ruined his life!”

  Mim looked away, seemingly ashamed.

  Robbie tightened his grasp on Lottie’s arm, turning her away from Mim and back towards himself. “Mum, listen! She didn’t ruin my life, I did that all by myself! I’m a fucking idiot, I asked her to let me in on it. She said I shouldn’t. She’s not all bad. I’m so sorry, Mum, just so sorry!”

  Lottie felt herself relax slightly, and gave her son a hug, choosing to ignore M for the time being.

  Wondering if the day could get any more surreal, she spotted Pru making a beeline for Mel, who was oblivious to her approaching admirer, as she happily chatted to Virginia. However, sensing a presence, Mel turned at the last minute only to be grasped firmly by the elbow as Pru blocked any chance of her escaping. Mel looked around in wild eyed terror as Virginia abandoned her, melting seamlessly into the crowd. Even from her position of safety, Lottie could make out Pru’s cackling laughter as she ran a hand through her short, thinning hair while stroking Mel seductively on her arm. Lottie laughed nervously as Mel locked eyes with her, as frantically, she tried to convey her utter terror at being targeted by a butch dyke, old enough to be her grandmother. Much as she found it funny, Lottie felt a strong sense of obligation to rescue her. However, before she could reach the increasingly desperate Mel, Alice appeared beside them. She leaned in towards Mel’s ear whispering something while using her free hand to uncouple Pru’s death grip on Mel’s elbow. Mel stumbled backward in an ungainly fashion, before making a beeline for the alcohol-laden table at the back of the garden. Holding onto Pru’s elbow, Alice steered her firmly towards Lottie, who then had her own moment of horror before regaining her composure. Pru allowed herself to be led, but occasionally glanced backward towards the disappearing Mel.

  Alice planted Pru firmly in front of Lottie. “I was just explaining to Mel, that her fiancé was looking for her. I think he

  went towards the bottom of the garden.”

  Quickly picking up on Alice’s attempt to resurrect Mel’s heterosexual status, Lottie countered. “Really? I thought I’d seen him in the living room. Hopefully they’ll track one another down.”

  Pru smiled knowingly, and leaning towards Lottie she spoke with enough conviction to lightly shower her with spittle. “Really dear, that lovely girl just needs to be herself. She’s clearly confused! I thought we’d made some progress when she came to group with her poem, but she seems to have regressed. Well, everyone has their own journey, I suppose, but I fully intend to offer her my support because I can feel her frustration about her situation, and I want to offer her a lifeline. Try and encourage her to group on Thursday, dear. Ask her to come a little earlier, and I’ll give her some personal time.” She stumbled off determinedly, in search of Mel once again.

  Alice hissed at her. “Lottie! You’ve properly put poor Mel in a predicament. She’s positively in danger, and you need to sort it.”

  Lottie, smiled apologetically, but soon found the situation

  just too funny and chuckled. Before long Alice couldn’t help but join in.

  A cheer came from the back garden, and Lottie was heading out to see what was going on when an ear-piercing screech halted her dead in her tracks.

  “What on earth?” she muttered. A loud tapping sound was followed by a round of applause and her mother’s voice boomed loudly across her own, and several other neighbours’, gardens.

  “It sounds like she’s on a bloody microphone!” Lottie mused as she rushed forward into the dimly lit garden, which was shrouded in the pink glow of the early sunset. She turned the corner of the kitchen extension and was flabbergasted to note that there seemed to be even more balloons tied to the fence posts. Her mum must have bought a job lot—it looked like a bloody gay pride event! When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Lottie was horrified to see that a makeshift stage had been constructed from old crates. She caught site of her mother standing proudly in the centre of the stage clutching a microphone. Above the staged area, was a rainbow display that had been constructed from helium balloons. To the side of the stage she noticed a large rainbow flag standing high enough to be seen from the next village.

  The majority of the guests had now found their way out into the garden. The crowd of people parted as she passed, and she was greeted with pats of encouragement on her back. Making her way towards her mother with the intention of finding out what the hell was going on—she headed towards the staged area, where she noticed a banner was tacked up against the shed. Not able to make out what it said from her current position, she noticed her mother, whose arms were now outstretched, beckoning for her to come closer. Archie rushed forward, placing his chubby warm hand in hers, and he assisted her in moving through the crowd propelling her forward. Pru loomed into view thrusting her Tupperware container under Lottie’s nose. Glancing downward, while still being propelled forward, she glimpsed a rainbow shaped cake covered with thick and colourful icing declaring out and proud. Confused, Lottie threw Pru a look that she hoped conveyed gratitude.

  People clapped and wolf whistled and Lottie cringed to be centre of attention. She couldn’t fathom how many people appeared to be squeezed into her small garden. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Alice flapping her hands frantically towards the banner. Pleased to see her partner-in-crime, she followed Alice’s indications and refocused on the banner:

  Lottie Grant, age 40, Out and proud!

  Lottie stood frozen to the spot. A horrific realisation slowly dawned on her. Multi-coloured balloons, rainbow decorations—this wasn’t just a birthday party. This was a full-blown coming out party! Desperately glancing back, she made brief eye contact with Alice, who shrugged apologetically before breaking into a semi-hysterical chuckle. Unable to avoid the invisible hands that propelled her forward, she managed to snatch a glass of fizz from a smiling stranger as she found herself beside her mother on the stage area. Her mother’s tapping of the microphone meant that there was a persistent squealing noise, which hampered Lottie’s ability to think.

  The rest of the evening was something of a blur to Lottie, and which resulted in something she later thought of as being akin to post-traumatic stress disorder. She remembered a long speech by Elspeth, delivered with complete sincerity, in which she told the avid audience about her initial shock, as Lottie had announced her sexuality to her while peeling potatoes for a shepherd’s pie. She informed the crowd that she had found her daughter’s transition to an openly gay woman something of a challenge in the early days. Although initially concerned about the moral corruption of her grandsons, she had eventually accepted, and fully supported her daughter’s lifestyle choices. She had noted that since becoming more open about her dating choices, Lottie and she had shared much hilarity about her dating disasters before she met the lovely Alice. Lottie vaguely remembered her mother becoming somewhat tearful before reading out a postcard from Lottie’s father, which clearly signalled that there had been a temporary cessation in the thirty-five years of hostilities, to allow her father to make a contribution to the event. After struggling to compose herself, Archie had stepped in to assist his grandmother. He read aloud.

  Dearest Lottie,

  So sorry to miss your coming out party!

  Your mother informed me you are celebrating your 40th with a wee bash for your close friends so I won’t embarrass you with any stories of your early years!

  Forgetting she was still holding the microphone Elspeth was heard to snort loudly before mumbling “Couldn’t bloody remember any, more like!”

  Anyway, sweetheart I’ll just say that I’m delighted to hear you are happy and well, and I support you
no matter what you choose to do with your life, even if it is just a phase. Love Pops x

  A raucous round of applause saved Lottie from responding to defend her phase, and she felt the swoop of arms around her waist to discover that Alice had appeared by her side. Turning to one another, momentarily the party noise dulled as they kissed, only causing more cheers.

  Robbie sidled up to the stage and grinned at his mum. “A coming out party, Mum, how cool!”

  He giggled again, before shoving his hands deeply into his pockets and disappearing into the crowd.

  A Child-Free Zone

  GINGERLY, LOTTIE LIFTED her head from the pillow and squinted at the daylight as the slow and familiar throb of the inevitable hangover resonated with purpose, bouncing around inside her skull. Peeling her short hair back from her forehead, she leaned forward to take the cup of steaming coffee being offered to her by a smiling Alice. Alice pried open her hand and placed a pink ibuprofen tablet in it. Gratefully, Lottie forced it down with a generous swig of hot coffee, and smiled sheepishly at Alice.

  “Well, that was certainly a different party, wasn’t it?” she said.

  Alice laughed. “Different would be one way to describe it, baby, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. Even Pru. She seemed to hit it off with your window cleaner! Why do you have your window cleaner on Facebook anyway?” she teased. “On second thought, there’s probably a story attached to that, and I’m thinking that we probably haven’t got time for it at the moment. I’m off to the gym, sweetie, to burn off some of the prosecco, but I’m so glad it went better than expected with your boss and work gang. Maybe now we’re out we could think about moving in together?”

  Lottie spluttered across her coffee. “Moving in?” That was a bolt from the blue.

  Although they’d discussed future cohabitation, they had only been seeing one another for a matter of months, and Lottie had assumed that, although this would be something certain to happen, it was definitely for the future. Nevertheless, she was surprised to find she didn’t have any adverse feelings towards the idea.

  Alice leaned forward and pecked her on the forehead. “Sorry, baby, you’re probably not in a fit state to have this chat. Tell you what, I’ll be back with lunch, so stay in bed and I’ll be back to service you later. I’ve never been with an older woman!” With a cheeky pat of Lottie’s not-so-pert bottom she skipped off to work her very pert bottom at the hellhole known as The Oasis, in Fraserburgh.

  How on earth Alice had the energy to go to the gym after the amount of alcohol they’d consumed was beyond Lottie. Alice was a regular attendee at the gym, and Lottie had also been persuaded to join, although the number of times she’d actually gone, she could probably count on one hand. She was usually found working up a sweat in the sauna, although she did like to venture into the gym area to watch Alice pound the treadmill—she found it incredibly sexy to be with such a physically fit woman.

  Alice bounded down the stairs to gather up her gym kit. Lottie carefully propped herself up on the pillow. “Moving in?” she repeated slowly to herself, savouring the sound. She was unable to quite believe that Alice would seriously consider living with her in the chaotic child-filled house she called home. Up until now, as a single mum, Lottie was somewhat smug that she had achieved and sustained a new relationship while simultaneously servicing the needs of two children—almost— and keeping down a job. She needed to give some serious thought to the significant hurdles which would have to be overcome in merging their two households, before being able to make the necessary progression towards achieving a cohabitation arrangement.

  Alice was amazing with the kids, but visiting and living together were two completely different things. Lottie was loath to admit it, but she lived in a daily whirlwind of chaos. Chasing children out of the house for school, precariously balanced washing-up that was sometimes there for days, and more importantly she still hadn’t mastered the art of pooing in front of Alice, except for the irritable bowel explosions that were too difficult to contain.

  Despite all of her reservations, she did feel excited and hopeful about how things were going with Alice. Pulling the duvet over her head, she allowed herself a small squeal of excitement as she basked in the now-certain knowledge that Alice wanted to take things to the next level.

  Alice’s head unexpectedly reappeared around the door. “Oh baby, just one thing. It would be nice to have a little adult-only zone. Something to think about, maybe the dining room?” Without waiting for a reply, she was gone.

  Lottie watched her metaphoric bubble shrivel and wither away.

  And there it was.

  She knew it was too good to be true. Although not entirely unexpected, a request for a child-free room within their proposed new nest of domestic bliss did not fit with Lottie’s vision of them all playing Monopoly around the log burner. A log burner she didn’t yet have of course, but she was sure this would come with a dual income household. A deep sigh escaped her as she retreated back beneath the covers to consider the request. Desperate to rationalise Alice’s thinking, she tried to compare it to someone making a reasonable request for a non-smoking room in a hotel or maybe a ground-floor room with a view. She just couldn’t get the image of her children knocking gingerly on the dining room door, hoping for a pass to enter, and she was flooded with misery.

  She sighed again.

  It was as if she’d been given a glimpse of what could have been, combining her current life with her dream life, with rails full of Alice’s crisp business-like shirts. Lottie shook her head as other images crowded in: her delightful boys knocking politely on the firmly closed door of the child-free room, before a barked enter. Poor Archie stepping in with trepidation to request a game of Cluedo.

  Lottie recognised that there was some history behind her extremely negative reaction. She couldn’t help but feel that her tragic pattern of disastrous relationships was rearing its ugly head again. She pulled out her journal and aimlessly roamed through the previous year, remembering that a similar scenario had been suggested in a previous relationship, but in that case, it had been a summer house at the bottom of the garden. To Lottie, such a room represented a locked place where the cohabitee could assume a retreat position from family life as required. At the rebuttal of the summer house request, other suggestions had followed which included the purchase of adjoining properties where an internal door could be a portal between family life and a promising silence and sanctuary on the opposing side. Lottie slung her journal under the bed and swung her legs around to a sitting position, her enthusiasm to escape her own thoughts helping her to temporarily forget her banging head. She desperately tried to see things from Alice’s perspective. She was no stranger to these conversations having therefore chosen to date non-parents in the main. Was this, in fact, a perfectly reasonable request from Lottie’s procession of seemingly unfamily-friendly partners? After all, she was well aware of the chaos that was her daily pattern. She felt she wasn’t being fair to Alice, who she observed, had made strenuous efforts to engage in family life.

  Only the past week, Alice had taken Archie to the vet’s surgery for a shadowing day. Although, this didn’t turn out so well she recalled, as Archie had turned out to be rather militant about what he mistakenly believed was a trapped rat in a cage in the recovery area. After letting the rat free, he had stubbornly refused to disclose its whereabouts, until a near hysterical receptionist had located it in the filing cabinet next to her desk.

  Despite all of this, Lottie couldn’t fight her disappointment that Alice had appeared to adopt the position of a non-parent cohabitant, and she thought she should probably look carefully for the tell-tale 666 markings on her children’s perfectly-formed heads. After all, it seemed to be a pattern. Later that day, after a rummage through Archie’s overgrown hair, she was satisfied that there were no such markings that she could detect anyway, although she did contemplate filling the bath with holy water just to double check.

  Casting her mind bac
k into the murky memories of her distant child-free times, she had a vague recollection of avoiding booking holidays abroad during the summer months and studiously avoiding the swimming pool during half term, reminding her of a once pre-children mind set. But since the arrival and ensuing encampment of the darling ones, her primary concern had been less about the spa facilities of a hotel and more about the credentials of the kid’s club facilities. She had also learned a valuable lesson, that a post sardine-packed swimming pool trip can always be soothed with a large vanilla latte. These little things had assisted her in making a successful transition to parenthood, so why then did the presence of her children seem to be a recurring blockage to the progression of her post-divorce relationships?

  Revisiting her recent choices of partners, it occurred to her that they had little in common apart from one fact, they were all, through choice, childless. Until this light-bulb moment, this fact had seemed to be something of a plus point in all of these relationships making it seemingly easier to manage only prioritising the needs of her own children rather than someone else’s. It had seemed clever and well thought out—less so now though it seemed! So, if a child-free zone within the house was agreed, then it would surely seem only right that Lottie could counter-request her own bedroom complete with a sealed window which would never be opened to expose her to the icy cold blasts of a winter’s night, or the incessant and irritating too-early-in-the-morning birdsong? Or, it may be more realistic to consider counter-requesting a room in which her phone calls could be made and received without the rolling of eyes as Alice expressed her dissatisfaction with length of time she spent on the phone. Not that Alice actually did this, but Lottie had experienced a surprising venture into pure melodrama by the time she had found her lost pyjama bottoms and stubbed her toe on the bed-end.