Sam was having such a good time as a girl that he was almost out of control.
As the four of us made our way home that evening, he was running on at the mouth about how great Zia, Charley and Elena were, how talking to them was just so different from talking to guys.
‘Like, feelings,’ he suddenly said. ‘It’s OK to talk about what’s really going on inside. I really dig that.’
‘We do that too.’ Jake was walking ahead, hands in pockets. ‘I talk to Ty about feelings all the time, don’t I, Ty?’
‘Yeah,’ Tyrone muttered unconvincingly. ‘We really share.’
‘And old Zed – she is just totally ace,’ Sam went on. ‘I told her about some of the sixties rock bands I like and, you know what? She’s heard of Jim Morrison. She’s into Hendrix. She’s got a Doors playlist. How cool is that?’
‘Doors?’ said Jake. ‘What exactly are the Doors?’
‘Only the best band in the history of time,’ said Sam. ‘Another thing. We’ve agreed that we’re all going to keep diaries this term,’ Sam went on happily. ‘Everything that happens, all our secrets – it’s all going to be in there.’
‘Diaries?’ A look of real disgust crossed Tyrone’s face. ‘That is such a girl thing, Sam.’
‘What kind of secrets?’ I asked.
Sam gave what can only be described as a giggle as we entered the park. ‘Oh, only, for instance, that a certain Mark Kramer wants to meet me.’
‘Kramer? The Lower-Sixth guy?’ Jake asked.
‘Yup,’ said Sam. ‘And the word is that he is hot-hot-hot for a certain Sam Lopez. The other girls are sooo jealous. Everybody wants to be Mark’s girl but he has only eyes for me. Talk about romantic.’
‘Sam,’ I said, as gently as I could. ‘Sam, he’s a boy.’
‘Correction,’ said Sam chirpily. ‘He’s a hunk – the hunk of the Lower Sixth. Mark and Sam. Sam and Mark. It even sounds right.’
‘But what do you want to go out with a boy for?’ Tyrone asked.
Sam shrugged. ‘Fun. Laughs. Sharing things. And, after that who knows?’
We were so shocked by what we were hearing that none of us noticed the policeman walking towards us.
The three boys and a girl, fitting the description I had been given, were in earnest conversation with one another in the vicinity of the playground shelter. I walked up to them and, to my surprise, they kept on talking.
‘Afternoon, kids,’ I said. ‘Is everything all right here?’ The girl answered. She said everything was very all right.
I mentioned that I had received a complaint of inappropriate behaviour from a group of four kids of about their age.
‘Inappropriate behaviour?’ said the tall, skinny boy with the big nose. ‘What sort of inappropriate behaviour?’
‘Messing around,’ I said. ‘Upsetting ladies walking their dogs.’
‘OK, officer. We’ll look out for those kids,’ said the girl, who seemed to be American.
‘All right then,’ I said. ‘On your way.’
All in all, I think I handled the situation in a satisfactory manner.
It was not exactly a normal end to the school day. First of all, Sam coming on all romantic about Mark Kramer, then the very same young police guy who had warned us after the Great Burger Bill Disaster turning up in the park. I got the weird sense that somehow things were just about to go seriously wrong.
At the park gates, we decided to split up. Jake and me would go home and Matt and Sam would take a couple of turns around the block before doubling back to the park for Sam to change back into a boy. With a bit of luck, PC Stickybeak would have moved on.
Sam was flipping. Two days of being a girl, being given a new pair of falsies and winning the heart of Mark Kramer had done nothing for his sanity, and the tangle with the law had wound him up still further.
‘Let’s go check out the park!’ He danced ahead of me, punching the palm of his hand with his fist. ‘Let’s make a little mayhem here – let’s go kick some ass.’
I told him that personally I didn’t need any more trouble on account of the fact that whenever a little mayhem was made, it was me that got the blame.
‘Whoa, there.’ Sam laughed crazily. ‘Is my little cousin losing his nerve here? Maybe Operation Samantha turned out to be a little hot for him.’
‘You might be right,’ I said. ‘It’s getting sort of messy, isn’t it – all this girlie stuff? I’ve been thinking that perhaps we should just fess up and get on with our lives. What can they do? Kill us?’
Sam had stopped dancing. ‘Easy, Matthew,’ he said. ‘You asked me to do a week at Bradbury Hill. We’ve still got three days to go.’
We turned the corner towards the park. I was just about to tell Sam that the joke was meant to be on the girls but that somehow nothing had changed, when I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.
My mother was driving towards us. She had been looking for a parking space and had found one fifty metres from where we stood. As she stepped out of the car, she saw us.
‘Don’t say a word,’ I murmured. ‘Just do what I say.’
‘What?’ said Sam, then noticed my mother. ‘Uh-oh.’
‘Turn round slowly and naturally,’ I said. To my surprise, he did so without a murmur of complaint. ‘Here we go again,’ I said, then slung my right arm casually around his shoulders. Briefly, he tried to wrestle his way free, but I held him firmly and he relaxed.
‘You are going to pay for this big time,’ he muttered.
‘Just stay like this until we turn the corner,’ I said.
We were almost there when I glanced behind me.
Mum was standing beside her car, staring after us.
We turned the corner. I released my grip and Sam jumped away from me.
‘You are sick, Matthew Burton,’ he said. ‘How come you’re always hitting on me these days?’
I smiled wearily. ‘Now who’s losing his nerve?’ I said.
As if the day hadn’t provided enough shocks, it seemed that Matthew had discovered girls. As I watched him scurry away, a little ponytailed blonde under his arm, I experienced the sort of feeling that every mother knows when her child makes its first step into adulthood – a little sad, of course, but relieved too.
Matthew with a girlfriend. I laughed quietly.
When I reached 23 Somerton Gardens, David was in the kitchen – no surprise there. He has this theory that, at times of crisis, it is important for family unity that we all have a good meal together. Tonight it was going to be paella. As I entered, he scooped some red sauce stuff onto a spoon and held it up to me.
‘Has this got enough flavour, do you think?’ he asked, his face a picture of anxiety.
‘Matthew has a girlfriend,’ I said. ‘I’ve just seen them. I don’t think they noticed me. Some little long-haired blonde.’
David stood there, still holding out the spoon.
‘Matthew? It’s not possible. I mean, isn’t he a bit young?’ I told him kids started early these days. Maybe it was a good thing, I said. It would give him confidence.
‘Who was she?’ he asked.
‘Probably someone from his class.’ I tasted the sauce and told him it needed more salt. ‘Have you ever…talked to him?’ I asked.
David stirred something in a saucepan, looking worried. ‘You mean talk as in…talk? The talk?’ He shook his head. ‘Not exactly.’
I told him it was time for the talk. He nodded miserably. It was only when we heard the boys at the front door that I realised we had completely forgotten to discuss the imminent arrival of Sam’s father.
I had assumed that there had to be some kind of crisis for Mum to leave her office so early and, when I saw both of them standing looking worried in the kitchen, I thought we were in for some heavy news.
But it turned out that something else was on their minds.
‘Oh, was that you I saw near the park? Mum had a weird half-smile on her face that I have learned is a sign that she’s trying to be playful.
‘Park?’ I said. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘I could have sworn I saw you with a girl.’
I shrugged guiltily. ‘Nah,’ I muttered. ‘Must have been someone else.’
‘So you were with Sam?’ my father asked.
I glanced across at Sam and in that instant, I knew what was coming. Ever since I had put my arm around him, he had been waiting for his revenge.
‘Nope. I was with Jake and Tyrone,’ he said. ‘I wanted to give ole Matt a little,’ – he winked at me – ‘quality time, know what I mean?’
‘There’s no need to be embarrassed,’ said my father. ‘It’s quite natural. Who is she?’
‘Yeah,’ said Sam. ‘Who’s the babe?’
I panicked. ‘Sss…Sss…Simone,’ I said. ‘She’s in my class.’
My mother smiled. ‘I never heard you mention a Simone in your class.’
‘I hadn’t really noticed her before,’ I murmured. ‘I don’t want to talk about her.’
‘We do,’ said Sam, really enjoying himself now. ‘Tell us what she’s like, Matthew.’
My parents were both looking at me expectantly.
‘Well, she’s quiet and reasonably bright and maybe a bit shy.’
‘And a great looker, ain’t that a fact?’
I narrowed my eyes. If it was the last thing I ever did, I was going to get Sam back for this. ‘Yes,’ I said coldly. ‘She’s quite pretty – in a very girly, feminine sort of way.’
At this point, Mum nudged my father. ‘Well, I’ve got a couple of calls to make from upstairs,’ she said, giving him this meaningful glance, and walked quickly out of the kitchen.
I have always regarded myself as something of a communicator but, between you and me, that birds-and-bees chat with Matthew and Sam was not a great success. Certain words and phrases, of an intimate nature, came out sounding peculiar – as if somehow they had never been used before.
Matthew kept on trying to interrupt me, telling me that he knew it all, that there wasn’t any need to go into any of this, but unfortunately Sam seemed very innocent in these matters and asked questions that frankly I found increasingly difficult to answer.
No no no no NO! Not that! Not in the kitchen! Not from my father! Please stop!
As Dad tried in his desperate, fumbling way to tell us all about sex, he looked increasingly miserable. There were long, awkward silences. Whenever he had to use words that he found embarrassing – ‘condom’, ‘erection’, ‘sperm’, ‘vagina’ – he sort of winced as if just saying the words was causing him physical pain.
Sam, I don’t have to tell you, was having the time of his life. On and on he went, asking questions that made me want to hide under the kitchen table.
‘You mean the guy gets his…And the girl…Explain that to me again, Mr Burton.’ On and on he went. ‘So what exactly is safe sex?’
That was it, I decided. That…was…it. War had been declared – officially.
After the Great Sex Talk, we went upstairs, Sam frowning to himself as if still turning over in his brain the fascinating but troubling new things he had just discovered about boys and girls and their bodies. We went into my room, closed the door, and he fell on my bed, face in the pillow, hammering the mattress with delight.
‘Sam!’ I grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up. When he looked at me there were tears of laughter in his eyes.
I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be angry, but soon I was laughing too.
Poor Dad. If only he knew.