Chapter 19 #2
We go down to the kitchen and I serve everyone drinks, including an extra-large one for myself.
I also take a chicken cacciatore I’ve prepared out of the fridge and slide it into the oven.
Then I bite the bullet and invite everyone to sit at the table, gabbling nervously about the new chairs I bought.
I busy myself spreading out nibbles, as the kids huddle around Theo—as if for safety—at one end.
“I can’t get over how beautiful this place is,” says Ian, marveling at the surroundings. “It’s like being on a film set.”
Gloria looks around and nods. “I could get used to it. Lounging around in my kaftan, nipping to the opera on my Vespa … what else do Italians do?”
“Going to church on a Sunday,” says Dom, joining his hands in prayer. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“Girl, I’d be in there all day!”
The three of them laugh.
I feel buoyed up by my sisters’ positive energy and lack of inhibition, their pride in who they are. But Archie seems quieter than usual and a little overwhelmed, plus Callum and Mabel just sit there, stony-faced. I’ve no idea how Theo’s feeling.
Gloria takes a drag on his vape and lets out another pink plume. “Now then, how well do you kids know our Addy?”
A cold slick of dread passes through me.
“They’ve been getting to know each other,” offers Theo.
Gloria puts down his vape. “Who wants to hear the story of how he got his name?”
“Me!” squeaks Archie.
I know this story well, so am able to relax a little. I open a second bottle of Prosecco and fetch Theo and Dom another beer.
“When his mum was pregnant,” Gloria begins, “she got sick of being stuck in the house so his dad took her out for a pub lunch. The baby wasn’t supposed to arrive for a couple of weeks so she was nice and relaxed, enjoying her Yorkshire pudding, when her waters broke.
They called an ambulance but it all happened so quickly, Addy was born in the car park. ”
“And who can guess the name of the pub?” tosses in Dom.
Theo and the kids look blank.
“The Adam and Eve,” I reveal.
The adults laugh. There’s even the hint of a smile on Mabel’s face.
“Ads, how do I not know that story?” asks Theo.
I think he may be smiling but I daren’t look at him.
“It sounds like you need to spend more time with his sisters,” says Ian.
“We could tell you a few other things he’s done in a pub car park,” quips Dom.
Gloria laughs so hard his earrings rattle. Callum looks appalled, while Mabel and Archie don’t seem to have understood the joke. Theo did and is chuckling. So why do I feel embarrassed? Would I feel the same if I were straight and being teased by my friends?
I look at Dom and widen my eyes. “Yeah, thanks, my sister.”
“Can I ask a question?” Mabel crows. “Why do you call each other sisters?”
“Because we are sisters, my angel,” says Gloria, rubbing his beard. “A sister isn’t just someone with the same parents. It can be anyone you’ve shared an important experience with. What matters is the bond.”
“Basically, queer people used to be rejected by their families,” explains Ian, taking off his glasses to clean them. “So we have a history of what’s known as ‘found family’, of creating our own families.”
“But you’re not even girls,” snipes Callum.
“No, but we also have a bond with women, because we too have been oppressed by the patriarchy,” Ian answers, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“What does that mean?” asks Archie, screwing up his face.
“Before I was bullied for being gay,” Gloria explains, “I used to get called a girl and laughed at for not being masculine enough. But that’s just another expression of misogyny.”
“What’s mis. …?” asks Archie, struggling to pronounce the word.
“Misogyny,” supplies Theo. “It means hating women.”
“By calling each other girls, we’re reclaiming the insult,” Ian goes on. “And refusing to see being feminine as something negative. We’re also refusing to fit into any fixed understanding of gender, because that’s limiting.”
I can tell that, begrudgingly, Mabel at least is impressed. Callum is out of his depth. And Archie just looks bewildered.
“Speaking of feminine, your hydrangeas are gorge, my sister,” says Gloria, gesturing to a bush at the edge of the lawn.
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’ve been watering them every day since we arrived.”
“Gloria’s a florist,” Theo tells the kids.
Ian takes out his lip balm and runs it over his lips. “And what do you three want to be when you grow up?”
“I’m going to be a lawyer,” Mabel declares, determinedly.
“Sensational,” cheeps Gloria, tipping back his Prosecco. “You can help us fight the patriarchy!”
Callum says he doesn’t know—and I can’t help noticing him squirm slightly. He looks for his dad’s reaction.
“We haven’t worked it out yet,” Theo says, reaching out and giving Callum’s shoulder a rub. “Cal’s very practically minded: academic work isn’t really his thing. He loves sport.”
“Me too,” says Dom, chugging his beer. “I used to hate school.”
Callum raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pursue the subject.
“And Archie wants to be a wrestler,” Theo goes on. “Don’t you, squirt?”
Archie shakes his head. “Not anymore. I’m going to be a builder now.”
Theo nods. “Archie loves watching our builders.”
“He’s not the only one,” says Gloria, picking up his fan and giving it a click. “That Giuseppe is smoking hot. He could renovate my downstairs any day.”
Ian and Dom burst out laughing and I can’t help joining in, as does Theo.
But Callum and Mabel exchange looks of horror.
I feel a spike of resentment towards them.
My mum and her friends from the shop always used to talk about who they fancied.
Every time they’d had a few glasses of wine they’d fantasize about what they’d do with Michael Douglas or Harrison Ford. How’s this any different?
I suddenly realize that all the time I’ve been in Italy, I’ve been holding some of myself back, frightened of behaving inappropriately around the kids. But in the process have I been compromising who I am?
Maybe I was stupid to try and make this work. Maybe I should just tell Theo it’s a mistake and let him take the kids and leave.
Then I can go back to Manchester with my sisters.