"Hello, Gillian!" Caroline strides up the sidewalk and gives her step-sister a quick hug in front of the restaurant.
"Hi!" Gillian smiles. "I've asked for the same table as last time, few weeks ago. It's ready. And I've already ordered you a glass of cabernet."
"Brilliant! Thank you."
They take their seats, scan the menu, and place their orders. Caroline looks more relaxed and happy today than the last time she saw her, Gillian notices.
"So, what have you decided to do about John's novel?", Gillian asks. "Did you speak with your solicitor?"
"I certainly did," she answers. "He says that there is no way to prevent the novel being published, other than a nasty and probably expensive legal battle, and one that would likely not be successful. But John has agreed to a few, um, modifications, shall we say? And I think Kate and I can live with that."
"Let me guess: Kate isn't run down by that crazy television writer?"
"You guessed it!" Caroline grimaces. She still can't believe her ex-husband would have invented such an offensive story line.
"He put up quite a fuss about taking that part out," she continues. "He claimed that, in order to provide the framework for Alison Waterhouse's personal growth, he needed to create a tragedy that would reconcile Alison with her mother. It's absolutely absurd that he felt the story needed a rift between them to begin with."
"What was the rift about?"
"Oh, apparently Alison's mum decided on the day of Alison's wedding to stay at home."
"Why?"
"She was upset about learning that Lizzie's dad – your dad – had had a fling 45 years ago."
"That's funny, thinking that my dad might have ever had a fling."
"I know! But, well, you never know, do you? Anyway, that was the rift. It wasn't a very creative decision on John's part. I think he could have done much better. My mum – Alison's mum – is certainly, um, entertaining from time to time, and there is no shortage of opportunities for a quarrel with her. But, actually, this isn't one of them. Ever since last Christmas she's been surprisingly supportive of my relationship with Kate. Well, more supportive. You know that she's the one who asked Kate to play piano for the wedding and who invited her to stay for the do afterwards?"
"Yes, my dad told me that. That's sweet. Kind of surprising – but I guess the threat of him dumping her was enough to get her to finally turn the corner."
"Yep. I think she was a little embarrassed to see the two of us take to the dance floor – well, a lot embarrassed – but when she saw that everyone else was fine and that no one dropped dead - except maybe Lawrence - she recovered quickly. She's really been quite lovely about it all since then. No one would ever get that from John's book, of course. When I pressed him on it, he said his rationale for the whole thing about the rift between Alison and her mum, then Alison's wife getting run down by the television writer, was that 'there is no drama in happiness'."
Gillian bursts out laughing.
"Seriously? I can think of plenty of drama in happy everyday life. Plenty. Enough to fill up a whole bookshelf … roomful … library of books."
"I know! I understand his point about situations that test a story's characters and help them grow emotionally, but there is no shortage of such situations in everyday life. Our parents are aging and could have any number of crises, for example."
"I could have all sorts of struggles with my happy little farm."
"Kate's mother has a good life and job in New York, but they hardly ever see each other. That should be good for some drama."
"Raf and Ellie could get wed, if he needs a wedding. But no throwing up in buckets at the altar, please."
"Kate and I are an interracial lesbian couple happily raising an interracial child. And we both work at the same school, where I am technically her boss. Although, of course, we have changed the supervisory structure – but, good lord, there's certainly enough drama there for a book or two."
"What are his other novels like? He gave me one once, but, to be honest, I couldn't get past the first chapter without dozing off."
"Oh, they're, they're … they're mostly lightweight detective dramas. He has this character called Jack Protheroe – 'private detective, lost soul' – who solves mysteries while shagging his way across England and searching for the meaning of life. They're the sort of thing you read on holiday, then forget about a week later."
"Pulp fiction."
"Precisely. And he keeps using the same themes – even the same phrases – over and over and over. If I read 'short end of the stick' in one of his books one more time, I will be like Robbie on your wedding day, vomiting into a bucket. And the leading female character in one book sounds exactly like the one in the last book, even though they have different names."
Their salads arrive, and they dig in.
"I have asked him to change a few other bits, also," Caroline continues. "He's managed to keep the Greg character in the book, although in a different story line. I pointed out to him that it seems a little weird to me, Matthew Waterhouse's obsession with him, but he insisted. I don't understand what that's about …. Maybe he thinks it makes him look cool to Lawrence to be pals with his Death Grip hero?"
"What's Death Grip? Sounds a bit scary."
"Oh … it's … it's just a comic book. Good and evil battling for control of the universe, superheroes with big knockers, that sort of thing. Lawrence is obsessed with it, and Kate saw him with one of his comics one day and told him that her friend Greg is the illustrator. You should have seen Lawrence's face! Anyway, I think John has been a little jealous of Greg ever since then. He's obviously already having trouble dealing with my being with Kate – with Kate taking his place, as he probably sees it. And then to have the baby's biological father be one of Lawrence's heroes must be particularly vexing for him."
"Right. Makes sense."
"How about you? Are you sure there aren't any parts you want him to change for your sake?"
"No, it matters 'nowt to me."
"My mum's and your dad's story was publicized pretty widely, and people can put two and two together, so there's no doubt some people will be able to figure out who we are. It's probably fortunate in some ways that so much of John's novel is pure fantasy. Everyone who actually knows us will know that it's rubbish, and those who don't will see it for what it is – a mediocre pulp fiction, as you say, by a has-been writer who has run out of original ideas and is simply regurgitating themes from previous work."
"I don't think it's likely that anyone I know will be reading the book. And sheep don't read."
"You know, I really don't mind people knowing I'm a lesbian now. I would probably be more embarrassed for them to know I was married to John all those years … he's turned out to be such a jerk."
"Doesn't it feel, feel a bit, um, a bit dangerous to be public about it? From what you see on the telly, lesbians get run down by autos, or they slash their wrists in the back seats of cars, or they come to all sorts of unsavory ends. Makes you wonder if the BBC is trying to send some sort of sinister message. Like maybe it should be called the … the … British Brainwashing Corporation."
Caroline smiles. Gillian has a funny way of spinning out ideas as she talks, her mouth one tiny step ahead of her brain, and Caroline has come to find it endearing.
"I know!" Caroline agreed, shaking her head in disbelief. "At Sulgrave Heath, we give very careful thought to the impact of messages in the media on our children. If a lesbian is killed off on television, or made to suffer a broken heart or some other tragedy almost every single time, it begins to normalize that experience for viewers so that they gradually come to expect that that's the inevitable outcome of being a lesbian. It's criminal, really. It should be."
"Right. Right."
"It was very challenging for me to, to, to stop hiding about who I am. To come out. But now I see how very important it is, so that children have positive gay role models and don't get brainwashed by the bloody sensationalism they see on the telly. Even Lawrence once encouraged me, with his own unique and colorful language, to be more forthright about it."
"Really?"
"I owe it all to Kate. She's such a gentle person, but she has very little tolerance for gay people being closeted. Should YOU ever decide to start batting for the other team, you'd best watch your step around her! She'll have your kecks off if you're not out and proud."
They both burst out laughing.
"Kate strikes me as being quite different from you. And she seems like the complete opposite of John."
"Well, anyone with even the least bit of common sense is the complete opposite of John," Caroline shakes her head.
"But, yeah, I think Kate and I complement each other well. She's calm in situations in which I'm apt not to be. She's kind, and thoughtful … and, as we know, I'm a snotty bitch. She's … she's …" Caroline's voice trails off.
"What drew you to her?"
"Ooh... OOH! What time is it? I'm going to be late getting Lawrence!"
Caroline scrambles for her purse and pulls out some money. "I'm sorry, Gillian, I need to run. We'll have to save that question for another time." She gives her a quick hug, then leaves.