A Gift from The Bard

The pace is slow as we work our way along Piccadilly, back past Green Park and the tube station. "We could have saved ourselves a walk!" Emmy laughs.

There are people on the pavement, some just walking while others stand and watch the march; some give waves and smiles but there are also glares of disapproval. "It's just about love!" a man walking behind us yells at a particularly sour-faced woman. He has his arm around his, I assume, boyfriend.

Emmy taps my arm. "Look," she points over towards a group of young women, a bit older than us, carrying two placards. 'Lads -- we're not after your girlfriends...' says one, while the other continues '...but we're here if they want us!' I laugh out loud at that.

"Come on," I tell Emmy and we edge closer to the group. "I like your banners," I call out when we're closer, "they're brilliant!"

"Thanks," replies the nearest girl. She has short, spiky hair and is in a pair of dungarees with one strap unbuttoned that makes me think of a band member from Dexy's Midnight Runners. She is cute looking though. We walk beside them as I try to think of something else to say.

"I love your shirt," one of the other girls says to Emmy. "I'm Bethan and this is my girlfriend, Jacks." She rests her hand on the shoulder of the girl in dungarees and gives Emmy a questioning look.

"Oh, I'm Em," she says, not calling herself Emily, unusually, "and this is Suzie."

With introductions made we get asked about ourselves and where we're from and if it's our first Pride march as we find out that they're all from Reading and four of them share a house, having met at University.

Inevitably, there is the question about our relationship, in the form of a simple and direct, "So are you two together?" from Louise.

However, before I can give a 'we're just friends' type reply, Emmy jumps in with, "We're... seeing how it goes."

I try to keep my face neutral and not to ask, "What the fuck are you saying?" I wonder if she's trying to prevent me from going off with one of them and leaving her alone or... of course! I bet she's trying to discourage one of the single women among them coming on to her. Still, I guess it took some courage to say what she did.

The march winds on and the people lining the route become more numerous supportive mainly but occasionally abusive with shouts of 'poofs', 'queer bastards', 'filthy faggots', 'dirty bum bandits' aimed at the men and 'dykes' or 'disgusting lezzers' yelled at us. A group of lads leer at us. "Come over 'ere, darlin'," one of them screams towards us, "you just need to feel a real man's cock and you won't be munchin' on pussy no more!" He cups his groin and thrusts his hips and Emmy and I instinctively draw together nervously.

"Well, let us know if you ever manage to find a real man, little boy!" Shannon shouts back. She looks quite a lot like Annie Lennox and is really tall, which is maybe why she has the confidence to face him down.

"Fuck off, you dyke bitch!" is his less than intellectual response. However, the continuing advance of the march -- and the evident interest of two policemen in the source of the shouting -- defuses the situation. Relaxing, I realize that I'm holding Emmy's hand. "Uh, sorry."

"Er, did you take my hand or did I take yours?" she asks.

"I don't know..." I reply. Her hand feels nice in mine, a reminder of much happier times. Perhaps she's remembering them too because she seems happy to keep holding my hand. She smiles a little bashfully and I feel her fingers give mine a squeeze.

We pass along Pall Mall and skirt Trafalgar Square before heading downhill along Whitehall. The volume increases with shouts from the crowd. I can make out one rhythmic chant: "NO -- MORE -- SECTION -- TWENTY-EIGHT!"

"What's 'Section 28'?" I ask.

"It's the rule that says that schools can't present a gay or lesbian relationship as a valid choice for kids. The effect is that schools believe that they can't offer support to gay kids," Shannon replies. "No wonder there's so much bullying in schools."

I can't say that I'd been aware much bullying. There'd been the occasional name-calling and teasing, naturally. Of course, Emmy had been the only one at school who knew I was gay and anyway, my being overweight was always the go-to insult and I think everyone assumed that was why I couldn't find a boyfriend; I guess I'm not really in a position to disagree with Shannon.

"Look, over there: that's Downing Street!" Emmy says excitedly, leaning against my arm and pointing to the right where a side street is closed off by a gate attended by several policemen.

"Oh wow!" I reply, genuinely impressed, though I can't see Number Ten from here. "Do you think Tony Blair's at home listening to this?" I wonder out loud.

"Nah, Parliament's closed for the summer, isn't it? He'll be off on holiday in the south of France or wherever it is he goes," Jacks says. "Still, just in case he's watching: come here and give me a snog, Bethan!" she laughs, pulling her girlfriend to her for a kiss.

I try not to stare in envy at their passionate embrace as a guy behind us laughs, "Get a room, you two!" making me smile.

A little way on there are some counter-protesters, a group on the left-hand side of the street standing mostly in silence but with placards telling us that sodomy is a sin, that homosexuality is an abomination and that Jesus can save us from our depravity and sinfulness. One man, in a dark suit and stood on a box, is declaiming and waving a black-bound book; a bible, no doubt. I'm rather glad that I cannot hear what he's saying at this distance. "Stupid, narrow-minded..." Emmy mutters.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"Oh, it's just... well, Mum and Dad -- Mum especially -- make that sort of 'it's sinful', 'it's unnatural' comment whenever there's anything about homosexuality on TV; like, you know when there was that story about two girls being lesbians on that soap opera, er, Brookside, wasn't it? You'd have thought it was the end of the world," she concludes sadly.

"Clearly two girls kissing will bring down civilization." I keep my tone light, trying to cheer her up and she gives a tight smile.

"I hope not." She takes my hand again and holds it tightly; her action as supportive and encouraging as her words.

The crowd slows and I see the Houses of Parliament ahead. "I think we're nearly at the end now."

We enter Parliament Square and make our way to the grassed area in the centre where there are speakers on a stage on the far side. We stand and try to listen but the PA isn't brilliant and, what with the noise of the crowd and the gusty wind, it's impossible to hear more than the occasional word. In short, it's boring. When Emmy asks if we can find somewhere to sit I'm only too happy to agree.

"We're heading to Clapham Common for the Festival," says Jacks.

"Beating the rush," explains Bethan. You coming?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Emmy and I agree. We tag along with the women for the walk to Charing Cross where we stop to buy drinks before taking the Northern Line down to Clapham Common.

We wander onto the common where there are a number of marquees and stalls. There is also a stage where the Pet Shop Boys and Boy George and others are due to perform later, according to the signs. Emmy says she wants to find somewhere quiet to sit so we say goodbye to Bethan, Shannon and the others.

We find a bench and sit side by side. Emmy looks thoughtful as she gazes towards the festival and the slowly increasing numbers of lesbians and gays -- and presumably, though less obviously, bisexuals and transsexuals; she's thoughtful but not unhappy. I have a new empathy for her and understanding of why she panicked so badly when we were in bed together. "I'm sorry about, you know..." I begin but she turns and leans towards me, pressing her lips to my nose.

"Emmy... why did you just kiss my nose?"

"Um... because I missed your lips," she answers quietly. I am gazing into the soft, clear blue of her eyes and my mind floods with the memory of that summer afternoon, the two of us in that field of long grass where she first brought her lips to mine.

"Emmy, I don't know..." I manage, uncertainly. This time her lips don't miss and her hand reaches up to hold the back of my head. I should pull away or turn my head; anything to end the kiss but this is Emmy kissing me and the truth is I don't want to.

"Suze... I love you," she says a little breathlessly as we separate eventually.

"I love you too, Emmy, we're best friends aren't we?"

"No, I mean yes but... come on Suze, you know what I'm trying to say here."

"Yes, but... Emmy, I don't understand. I mean you and Tom and... what happened between us."

She takes a deep breath. "You have every right to be suspicious," she admits. "I guess I hoped you might wonder why I said I'd come with you today: I'm pretty sure I'm bisexual."

"What does 'pretty sure' mean?" Much as enjoyed that kiss and would love to kiss her again, I can't face another rejection, not from her and certainly not on top of Tati and Beth.

"It means that I keep thinking about us. I went out with Tom but... what can I say that doesn't make me sound like a bitch? I guess I was trying to see if, well, if I was thinking about you because I didn't have a boyfriend."

"And?"

"And I kept thinking about you, of course. Well, more than just thinking, actually." There are lots of conflicting emotions: that the relationship I'd so long hoped for might actually be on offer; that she might be using me as an experiment -- again; that, if it came to it, she'd choose to be with a guy, too scared to come out to her parents; that there'll be more antagonism from Tati if she found out, Beth too, possibly, not to mention how Tom might react if she dumps him for me.

"Emmy, are you sure about this? I mean really sure about what you feel?" An uncomfortable look crosses her pretty face.

"I want to be sure, Suze, I really do. I love you and it feels so good kissing you and... I want to try more; you know..."

"You want to have sex with me?" I blurt out, startled by her admission.

"Well, I might have said 'made love' but... I think I'd like that, yes," she admits with a shy smile.

"But how do you know that's what you want?" I ask and Emmy's face falls.

"I understand... I can't know, not for sure, can I?" She sighs. "I understand why you're suspicious, especially after how I treated you before... I never want to hurt you, Suze." I feel guilty for bringing her mood down. "It makes sense; you don't feel the same way about me anymore, do you?" she says with resignation. "We're just friends." I realise that if I push her away now it'll probably be forever.

"No, Emmy, I'm still really attracted to you but I thought you were straight and I didn't want to do anything to upset you. I'd love it if you were my girlfriend but I've kept telling myself that could never be." It's my turn to sigh. "And suddenly this... Em, does Tom know that you fancy me and not him?"

"Um, no, not exactly."

"Not exactly? In what way 'not exactly'?"

"Okay, not at all... but I'm going to tell him that I don't want to go out with him anymore."

"Well that would be a start, I suppose." I hesitate, a troublesome thought occurring to me. "Emmy, we're all involved in the play, we have a commitment to it, and look what happened at the rehearsals between Tati and me; I don't want Tom having a go at me as well. And Beth: like I said, it seems she thinks she made a mistake and that I hadn't been trying to tell her that I fancied her. If she sees us together..." Emmy nods in understanding, looking down.

"Beth will know the truth. You're right," she admits sadly and I stroke her cheek with the back of my finger, making her look at me.

"Emmy love, I'm not saying no." I think for a moment, formulating exactly how to say this. "Okay, suppose we agree that we're going out, you know, dating, but we keep that between ourselves, yes?" She nods. "I feel bad saying this but... you ought to finish with Tom."

"No, don't feel bad; I will do it. He's a nice bloke and he deserves my honesty. And we'll be, like, a couple?" she asks hopefully and I laugh.

"Yes, but a discreet couple. I keep putting it off but I guess now I should tell Mum that I'm lesbian."

"Don't!" Emmy exclaims and then adds, "I mean don't rush, in case we don't, like, in case it doesn't work out; between us, I mean."

I understand, I think: if I come out to Mum then it'll put pressure on her and our relationship. I have to accept that there is nothing guaranteed in this, that she might turn out to be straight after all. Can I do this? Oh, fuck it... yes, I can.

I lean in and this time I kiss her. Inevitably the kiss deepens and we hold each other as our tongues meet. I was hoping to feel what I had when we'd kissed in the past but this is different, better. I don't know if I'm imagining it but there's no hesitation, no nervousness from Emmy now, just excitement; she wants this in a way she hasn't in the past.

"We need to take this slowly," she says quietly when we finally separate our lips.

"Yes, Emmy, we really do."

"Sorry, I think I was talking more to myself," she smiles.

"Me too!" She snuggles up beside me and I feel her arm around my waist.

"So... girlfriends?" she asks.

"Yes Emmy: against all expectations, it looks like we're girlfriends! Come on, let's find some food."

We stand and start walking. "Um, Suze, there's something else I've been meaning to tell you." I wait for her to continue, with no idea what's coming next. "Er, you know I said that I was planning on going to Birmingham Uni next year? Well, that might not actually be the case."

"Why, what's happened? Was there a problem with your foundation course?" I ask, worried she might have failed the course or something.

"No; I got a distinction actually. It's... I've accepted a place at Bath University so I'll be, like, half an hour away from you." She looks a little nervous as she awaits my reaction but relaxes when I smile and laugh.

"Emmy, that's so cool!" I hadn't thought about what would happen in September but this is fantastic. There's nothing for it but we have to have another hug; and a kiss, of course.

"So this is seeing how it goes, is it?" Bethan's shouted comment interrupts us and we look across to see her and Jacks laughing.

"Yes," Emmy calls back, a belligerent edge to her tone, "and it's going very well, thank you very much!" I don't know if it's just me but somehow, as we re-join then, I feel much more accepted by Jacks, Bethan, Shannon and the others in the group. I know it's very, very early days but... my best friend is now my girlfriend.

Chapter 8: The curtain goes up

Emily

I see Suze waiting for me, prompt as always, as I walk up the hill to the turning into the drive that leads to the Hawsley Grange Hotel and Golf Club. I so want to kiss her as I did many times at the LGBT Pride Festival yesterday. We could kiss cheeks, I suppose -- most of the actors in the Players do so -- but even that feels too risky and neither Suze nor I make a move to do so, settling in the end for a clumsy grasping of hands.

We agreed to meet here not only because we're girlfriends now (and it feels so exciting to think of us like that) but also because I don't want to meet Tom on my own: I'd promised Suze that I'd phone him when I got home last night and she thought I might need some support today. She was right because I'm dreading it.

"Hi, Emmy. How did it go?" she asks.

"It was pretty bloody horrible," I admit, "but it could have been worse, I suppose. At least there was no shouting. I used the 'it's not you, it's me,' line; I mean, even though it's a cliché it really is true in my case, right? Though I couldn't tell him why, obviously. Then I pointed out that he always knew I'd be going off to university at the end of the summer, so we were never going to be together for long and surely it was better not to get any more involved. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to say 'more in love' because I don't think I ever really felt like I was in love with him, not really, not like the way I feel about you."

"I suppose it's hard on him but I am a bit glad you're not in love with him -- and that you do love me, of course." She smiles and touches my arm affectionately.

"Thanks, Suze. I thought about telling him that I didn't want sex with him again but there was no way I could say that!"

"Why not? You could have told him you weren't ready for a physical relationship."

"Well, partly because that's not true," I say, and look her in the eyes, "I'm sure I am ready, but only with the right person," I can see from her face she understands what I mean, "but mostly because I was sure Mum would be listening in from the kitchen and I wouldn't want her overhearing me admitting I'd had sex with him. I wish I could afford one of those mobile phones so I could have some privacy."

"Did Tom say anything to any of this?"

"Well, not surprisingly, he wasn't happy. When I said I didn't want a long-term relationship, not with University soon and so on, he wanted to know why I'd gone out with him at all. I guess that was a fair question. I said I didn't expect the relationship to get quite so close, that he was a nice guy and I hoped we could be friends. I also said that I really didn't mean to hurt him but this was fairer." I give a little snort. "The conversation became a bit repetitive after that: he wasn't saying much and I kept apologising. In the end, it was a relief when he finally hung up. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, Emmy love. It doesn't sound like he was being very fair on you, refusing to talk. Were you upset afterwards? You could have called me if you needed to talk."

"I might have done but Mum came out of the kitchen almost as soon as I hung up."

"Did she say anything or did she pretend she hadn't been eavesdropping?" Suze knows from past visits what Mum can be like, even if she's not seen her in a long time.

"Oh, she'd been listening! It was a bit weird: Mum actually seemed proud of me, telling me I had behaved with integrity ending the relationship and keeping myself for someone I truly loved. I think she thought Tom had been pushing me to have sex and I was finishing with him to keep myself pure. I guess she was right about wanting to be with someone I truly loved but god knows how she'll react when I tell her who my true love is!"

"You'd better stop saying things like that or I may end up snogging you right here." I feel her fingers brush the back of my hand but they pull away quickly as a car drives past, turning into the Hotel's driveway. "I think that might have been Tati; come on, we should get going," she adds hastily.

The Hotel is a big Georgian manor house that's been converted and extended. The grounds are vast, much bigger than even the golf course requires. "I think the stage will be this way if I remember rightly," Suze says, pointing to the left of the Hotel.

"Don't you mean 'the performance area'?" I ask in my best impersonation of Tati and she gives me a hard stare. "You're cute when you get angry," I tease and she pokes her tongue out at me.

"Behave yourself, Emmy," she warns, "or it won't be a snog you'll be getting but a withdrawal of kissing privileges."

"You wouldn't dare!"

She holds the hard stare for a moment longer before smiling. "No, you're right but we do need to be careful today: no sneaky hand-holding and definitely no kisses."

"I know: it's a bit crap."

"I just don't want any more upset... oh, is that Tom up ahead?" Suze asks, gesturing to several figures standing and talking up ahead.

"Oh god, yes; it looks like Danny, I mean Dan, and Gio too. No sign of Tati though. I guess everyone's needed if we're to get it all in place by the end of today."