Chapter 30

Chapter 30

It was Mum who drew my attention to the letter. A couple of days later, we were in the lounge, trays on our laps, as we were finishing a meal of Findus Crispy Pancakes (minced beef variety) with boiled potatoes and peas. Keith was away, flogging hoovers in Billericay, so no steak tonight, it was back to our normal cuisine. Weird, I realized both of us were more on edge when Keith was around – like we were putting on a show. It wasn't just the food – Mum always dressed up more and had more make-up on when Keith was home. Without him, she'd "taken her face off" the minute she came through the door that evening, and was already slumming it in her nightie and dressing gown. "So, what's been going on at school then?" Mum asked.

"Oh, the ball's going well! We've sold three quarters of the tickets now Speak No Monkey have confirmed." Good old Dad, I added in my head, because I knew Mum wouldn't like it if I spoke too kindly of him.

"Yeah, I didn't mean that."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a letter in the Wickby Mail – from some worried parents, about a library book?"

It might surprise you, but I'd always quite liked Findus Crispy Pancakes. OK, I was sixteen and stuck in Nowhere-ville, Lincolnshire, didn't know any better, and our European friends would doubtless be appalled, but they were very, very tasty.* Right then, however, they turned to sand in my mouth, and I couldn't swallow another morsel. "Letter?"

Mum shrugged, grabbed the Mail off the table, folded it over at the letters page and handed it to me.

Dear Editor,

We write as a group of concerned parents with children of all ages attending Market Wickby Secondary School. It has come to our attention that a deeply offensive and inappropriate book was in recent circulation in the school library. The contents of the book are rumoured to portray homosexual behaviour, and other immoral activities, which are not only in contravention of section 28 of the Local Government Act, but also clearly have no place in the hands of an innocent child. TheBible makes it clear that this sort of behaviour is fundamentally wrong and obscene, and as Christians it is our duty to ensure young people are raised in a wholesome environment, protected from pornographic content and lifestyle choices that are simply not permissible within the context of Christian teachings. We call upon the school to take immediate and appropriate action to resolve this alarming situation which imperils all our children.

Yours faithfully,

A Group of Concerned Parents

My blood ran cold. I'd convinced myself that everything with the book would blow over. It was, after all, just a book. Words, printed on a page. Why would anyone be worried or affronted by that? But it was clear to me: they weren't going to let it be.

But after that frozen fear…

Fire.

Red-hot, raging fire.

They could believe what they liked, but what gave them the right to push those beliefs on other people?

They were calling me immoral.

They were calling me obscene.

But I was starting to understand – and really believe – that I was none of those things.

There was nothing wrong with me.

With any of us.

How dare they suggest otherwise?

I was furious. But I didn't know what to do with all the rage. I had no power in this situation. No voice.

I wanted to speak to Rob. He'd have a good take on all this, I knew it. He'd have some argument that would destroy them. But of course I hadn't pushed anything with him at school. I hoped that if he saw I was being careful, that I wasn't taking things too fast, he'd be OK with us again.

So much anger.

But no one to share it with.

Nowhere for it to go.

Beth and Dan convinced me to go round to Dan's anyway on Friday night. Dan's farm was exactly how I'd imagined it – middle of nowhere and not another soul to be seen. It was a warm evening, and we had a barbecue – just some sausages (from the family pigs, which was a bit uncomfortable, if I'm honest), but it was nice, and seeing how Dan and Beth were acting around each other I kept thinking how much nicer it would have been to share it with Rob. Just to have him there, joining in with the jokes and the chatter, laughing, me spilling a few more secrets about the ball (a bouncy castle – how about that?!) and everyone being excited, a couple of drinks, a bit of food… I don't even mean kissing or anything. Having someone around who likes you, who wants to make you laugh, knows how much you like fried onion so puts extra on your hot dog – well, I'd realized that was a wonderful thing.

After we'd eaten, we went inside. I know they didn't mean to make me feel like a spare wheel, but as Beth and Dan settled down on one sofa together, cuddled up, holding hands, and I sat alone on the other, that's how I felt. I envied them.

I made my excuses as soon as it wouldn't be rude to do so, and beat a hasty retreat. Besides, I was pretty sure Beth and Dan wouldn't want me there all night. I cycled back into town but couldn't face going home to Mum and Keith, so parked up round the back of Shop 'n' Save, climbed up to the flat roof and stared out into the darkness.

Yes, a small part of me had hoped I'd find Rob there too, also thinking, also wanting some company, but real life isn't like that; there isn't always someone else there when you really need them for dramatic purposes and to aid the narrative. There's just you, and your awful thoughts and the inescapable fact that you're just so damn lonely.

I tried to conjure the memory of him. Tried to imagine he was sitting beside me. Tried to remember the sound of his voice, the warmth of his breath, the Lynx Atlantis, his fingers gently stroking my cheek, his soft kisses…

Woodpecker cider.

Laughter.

Lie back and look at the shitty, cloudy sky.

I missed him and I wanted him back.

And why should other people stop that?

"Quite enough angst and moping, Jamie Hampton," Electra said, climbing up the metal fire escape to join me. "What did Rob first tell you when he talked about fear and control that day?"

"Fuck the system."

"Precisely."

"How am I supposed to do that, though?"

"Certainly not by languishing up here, all morose and sad. How much do you like him?"

"You know how much. A lot."

Electra nodded. "Time to put up a bit of a fight then, isn't it?"

"I can't fight them. There are loads of them."

"Actually, there aren't. There are only a few – they just have loud voices. And then there are a lot of other people who could be persuaded – if only they heard the truth, rather than sensationalist hysteria.*"

I stared at her. Like what then?

"You're a writer, Jamie," she said. "Go and bloody write!"

"Write what?"

"A letter in reply to theirs for the local paper!" She leaned towards me. "An anonymous one. Unless you fancy putting your name on it and getting your head kicked in?"

Suddenly, that burning fire in my belly had been given a rush of oxygen, hell, petrol maybe, and the flames engulfed me. I was going to do it. I was going to fight.

At two o'clock the following morning, I made the final adjustment on the word processing file on my Amstrad PCW?, then loaded up a sheet of paper and waited for my dot matrix printer to do its thing.

Dear Editor,

I would have more respect for these "concerned parents" if they were just honest. Why don't they admit they simply hate gay people? Pretending it's about "protecting children" is nonsense. Has anyone bothered to actually ask "the children"? Do these letter writers not know that suicide rates among gay teenagers are really high, and one big reason for that is the bigotry they see everywhere and too often experience themselves? If these "parents" really cared, why don't they try to understand and help? Why don't they show some love, rather than so much hate? They claim to be Christians, after all.

And they are also wrong, whether they realize it or not. I know they're wrong because I'm a boy who happens to really like another boy. When I'm with him, everything feels brighter. He has changed me, in so many good ways. I'm happy when I'm with him. Does that upset these "parents"? That all the things they claim about us – that we're dirty, depraved, immoral – aren't true? That, actually, life is great – or at least it would be, without their hatred?

I note the "parents" refuse to put their actual names to the letter. What are they afraid of? I can tell you what I'm afraid of, why I too, am anonymous: because if anyone knew about me I would be beaten and attacked, just for living honestly, being my best self. Congratulations, "concerned parents", on making the world a worse place – because that is what your bigotry does.

Yours faithfully,

A Gay Teenage Boy at Market Wickby Secondary School

Electra kissed her fingers like an Italian chef. I had to admit, I was pretty pleased with it.

Also, having previously scorned big gestures, here was mine. I don't know, I guess romcoms are just in my blood. Such a hopeless, romantic optimist.

*Really, though, this was probably due to the copious amounts of salt and sugar that food manufacturers were allowed to add back in the 90s. Happy days!

*But sensationalist hysteria never goes out of style, does it?

?This "computer" had no internal hard drive, a monitor that only displayed in green, and worked off three-inch floppy discs. And I felt very futuristic using it.