to worry about me, talking about people I didn’t know and places I’d never been, until Stephen finally realised that he needed to hurry.
‘I have a tutorial in half-an-hour. I’d better get moving.’
Giles jerked a thumb at the Audi. ‘This is mine. I’ll give you a lift.’
Stephen glanced at the car, then at me. ‘It’s a two-seater.’
Giles shrugged and swung himself into the car, rolling down the window to speak to us as soon as he’d turned on the ignition. ‘Oh, and Poppy, I’ve booked you in to speak at the debate next Thursday.’
‘To speak? On the prostitution debate?’
He gave me the full title. ‘“This House believes that sex workers should be employed directly by the state and the state alone.” That’s the one. You’re on third.’
‘But I don’t know the first thing about sex workers! What side are we on anyway?’
‘I’m for the motion, you’re against.’
‘Against? But, Giles …’
‘Just bung a pair of dungarees on and give them some crap about male privilege and the patriarchy. Are you sure you don’t want a lift, Mitchell?’
‘No thanks, I’ll walk.’
‘Ah, young love! She’s a good catch too, faithful as a puppy. I offered to bonk her brains out and she turned me down flat.’
I felt the blood rush to my face, so hot it was as if my cheeks were on fire, and Stephen was more taken aback than I was, standing there with his mouth open. Giles gave a cheerful wave and was gone before either Stephen or I could think what to say.
He found his voice first. ‘Sorry about Giles. He can be a bit of a clown sometimes.’
‘A clown? He’s an arrogant pig and a complete and utter buffoon!’
‘He’s all right. He was Head Boy at Laon Abbey.’
‘Then the rest of the school has my deepest sympathy.’
‘Come on, I don’t suppose he knew we were together, did he, and you can hardly blame him for trying.’
I began to answer, but bit back my words, my anger with Giles starting to die as I remembered that I hadn’t turned him down flat and that the situation would have been a great deal more embarrassing if he’d told Stephen what I’d actually said. A hasty change of subject seemed to be in order.
‘I don’t mean that. I mean put me up for speaker in the prostitution debate.’
‘You should be grateful, shouldn’t you? How many people get to speak at the Chamber at the first debate after they come up?’
My resentment began to fade with my anger.
‘Not many, I suppose, but that’s not the problem. There are some topics it’s best to avoid completely, including sex, because if I take a permissive stance I’ll get labelled a slut and if I take a repressive stance I’ll get labelled a prude or – what’s the word – a bluestocking.’
‘Not nowadays, surely?’
I shrugged, wondering if he was right. It was Dad who’d advised me to avoid any debate with a sexual theme, but his experience was over thirty years out of date.
Stephen carried on as we began to walk. ‘Anyway, you don’t have to take an anti-sex approach at all. Why not argue that sex should be a loving experience between equals and not a commodity?’
‘That’s a point. I could do that. That’s what I believe, actually.’
‘There we are then.’
‘Thanks.’
I went briefly quiet, remembering his own somewhat cryptic remark about Southeast Asia and my own fantasies about being a high-class call-girl. There was actually something quite exciting about inequality, and in having to do something because I’d been paid, or been tricked, even pushed into it or simply taken advantage of, just so long as I genuinely wanted the man. I took Stephen’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘That was lovely, by the way, what we did.’
‘My pleasure.’
We walked on, silent, hand in hand, my head full of rude thoughts. Stephen was unlike any other man I’d met, especially when it came to sex, making me wonder what else he had to offer. Looking back, I now realised that my sex
‘I have a tutorial in half-an-hour. I’d better get moving.’
Giles jerked a thumb at the Audi. ‘This is mine. I’ll give you a lift.’
Stephen glanced at the car, then at me. ‘It’s a two-seater.’
Giles shrugged and swung himself into the car, rolling down the window to speak to us as soon as he’d turned on the ignition. ‘Oh, and Poppy, I’ve booked you in to speak at the debate next Thursday.’
‘To speak? On the prostitution debate?’
He gave me the full title. ‘“This House believes that sex workers should be employed directly by the state and the state alone.” That’s the one. You’re on third.’
‘But I don’t know the first thing about sex workers! What side are we on anyway?’
‘I’m for the motion, you’re against.’
‘Against? But, Giles …’
‘Just bung a pair of dungarees on and give them some crap about male privilege and the patriarchy. Are you sure you don’t want a lift, Mitchell?’
‘No thanks, I’ll walk.’
‘Ah, young love! She’s a good catch too, faithful as a puppy. I offered to bonk her brains out and she turned me down flat.’
I felt the blood rush to my face, so hot it was as if my cheeks were on fire, and Stephen was more taken aback than I was, standing there with his mouth open. Giles gave a cheerful wave and was gone before either Stephen or I could think what to say.
He found his voice first. ‘Sorry about Giles. He can be a bit of a clown sometimes.’
‘A clown? He’s an arrogant pig and a complete and utter buffoon!’
‘He’s all right. He was Head Boy at Laon Abbey.’
‘Then the rest of the school has my deepest sympathy.’
‘Come on, I don’t suppose he knew we were together, did he, and you can hardly blame him for trying.’
I began to answer, but bit back my words, my anger with Giles starting to die as I remembered that I hadn’t turned him down flat and that the situation would have been a great deal more embarrassing if he’d told Stephen what I’d actually said. A hasty change of subject seemed to be in order.
‘I don’t mean that. I mean put me up for speaker in the prostitution debate.’
‘You should be grateful, shouldn’t you? How many people get to speak at the Chamber at the first debate after they come up?’
My resentment began to fade with my anger.
‘Not many, I suppose, but that’s not the problem. There are some topics it’s best to avoid completely, including sex, because if I take a permissive stance I’ll get labelled a slut and if I take a repressive stance I’ll get labelled a prude or – what’s the word – a bluestocking.’
‘Not nowadays, surely?’
I shrugged, wondering if he was right. It was Dad who’d advised me to avoid any debate with a sexual theme, but his experience was over thirty years out of date.
Stephen carried on as we began to walk. ‘Anyway, you don’t have to take an anti-sex approach at all. Why not argue that sex should be a loving experience between equals and not a commodity?’
‘That’s a point. I could do that. That’s what I believe, actually.’
‘There we are then.’
‘Thanks.’
I went briefly quiet, remembering his own somewhat cryptic remark about Southeast Asia and my own fantasies about being a high-class call-girl. There was actually something quite exciting about inequality, and in having to do something because I’d been paid, or been tricked, even pushed into it or simply taken advantage of, just so long as I genuinely wanted the man. I took Stephen’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘That was lovely, by the way, what we did.’
‘My pleasure.’
We walked on, silent, hand in hand, my head full of rude thoughts. Stephen was unlike any other man I’d met, especially when it came to sex, making me wonder what else he had to offer. Looking back, I now realised that my sex
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