Andy felt snug and safe on the sofa and took another sip of
his hot chocolate. It was rich and
smooth. Although he was feeling cosy and
a bit sleepy, he’d been thinking long and hard before replying. “But doesn’t that contradict the paradox
about Schrödinger’s Cat?” he mused hesitantly.
“I’m not sure. I
guess it’s about considering the state of the total system rather than simply
an individual object. The cat’s state
is ambiguous but it is just one cat.” responded the man sitting in the wide
leather armchair. “How’s your
chocolate?”
“Delicious, thank you.
Sorry to be a nuisance but I really didn’t want coffee at this time of
night. Well I suppose it’s morning now,
not night, but I think you know what I mean.”
“Yes. And you’re not
a nuisance. You’re never a
nuisance. You could have had decaf.”
“I know. You’re very
kind. But the chocolate is really
nice. I always feel that it’s a bedtime
drink.” Andy gulped, realising what
he’d just said. “I mean …. not that I
meant …” Andy stuttered and stumbled,
and blushed beneath his foundation.
“It’s OK. I know
what you were trying to say. And it is
getting late. You sure I can’t tempt
you to a whisky?”
“Yes, quite sure. I
still don’t understand how two particles can know what’s happening to the other
even when they’re separated. It would
mean that the information passing between them is going faster than the speed
of light,” pondered Andy.
“Exactly.”
“Well, how do you explain it, Mr V?”
“Harry, please.”
“Sorry. Can you
explain it, Harry?”
“I don’t think I can.
It seems like the pair of particles are truly entangled and respond as
if they know what is happening to the other.
If one particle is spinning clockwise, the other will be going
counter-clockwise. Somehow the two
cancel each other out.”
“It’s like magic.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“You do read some heavy stuff.”
“Not really. Just
things that interest me. You’re the
first person I’ve been able to talk to about quantum theory. I’m sure most people would be wondering what
Schrödinger fed his cat rather than thinking about how quantum entanglement
related to the cat paradox. You are
such a clever young …..” And now it was
Mr. Verity’s turn to hesitate. His voice
trailed away.
“It’s OK. It doesn’t
matter.”
“Which would you prefer?”
“I don’t really know.
Not anymore. What were you going
to say?”
“Young lady. But is
that wrong?”
“I guess not.”
“Well would ‘young man’ have been better?”
“Not with how I look.
I think I confused a lot of people tonight.”
“You certainly confuse me.
You are a very pretty young lady.
Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t know.
Auntie said I could.”
“Auntie?”
“Yes, my Aunt Jane.
Well, she’s not my proper Aunt.
But I call her Auntie.”
“So why do you call her Auntie?” enquired an intrigued Mr.V.
“It just happened that way.
She’s an old friend of my mother’s and I’ve known her for years.”
“And would I be right in thinking that you’re close to her.”
“Yes.”
“Very close?”
“Yes.” Andy hesitated. “Er ….very.”
“I’m not sure how to ask this, Andy. Is she more than just an ‘Auntie’ to you?”
“How do you mean?”
“You sound quite attached.
Is she nice?”
“She’s beautiful,”
Andy blurted. “She’s so lovely. And I’m so worried about her.” All Andy’s concerns that had been set aside
while he settled at Mr.V’s resurfaced.
“Why?”
“Because I’m worried about what they’re going to do to her.”
“Who?”
“The Sisterhood. The
people who were running the event tonight.
They were annoyed with her for gate crashing their GALA.”
“I think she’ll be all right. After all, she is member, isn’t she? They’re unlikely to harm her.”
“Do you really think so?
It sounded like they were doing terrible things to her when I got taken
away.”
“Well maybe. What
kind of terrible things?”
“If I can speak crudely, I think they were putting her to
the cock.”
“Is that so bad? I
don’t seem to remember you minding when Bex got you to suck.”
Andy hesitated: “That was different.”
“In what way?”
“Oh, I don’t know,”
stumbled Andy, all shy and embarrassed.
“Is Aunt Jane your girlfriend?”
“I don’t think she’d say that.”
“But would you?”
Andy blurted again: “I love her to bits. She’s so wonderful and she’s so good to
me. She always has been. And she’s loving and caring and ….”
“ … and she makes you dress up as a girl and uses you as a
maid,” interrupted Mr.V.
“Well, yes.”
“And are you happy for her to do that?”
“I wasn’t at first.
But she knew a lot about me. When
she was baby-sitting, although I guess I was about 9 or 10, she caught me
trying mummy’s high heels when I’d gone upstairs for a bit.”
“That was just childish curiosity.”
“But I was also wearing mummy’s lipstick.”
“That would have been harder to explain.”
“She said she wouldn’t tell mummy and that it would be our
secret.”
“That was kind.”
“Yes. Anyway, the
next time she came to sit, she brought one of her make-up bags and said that I
could play with it if I wanted. So I
started trying eyeshadow and lipsticks. I pretended to her that I wanted to be
a make-up artist. Sometimes she let me
do her lipstick. That was such a
thrill.”
“That was just innocent fun. A lot of kids play dressing up games.”
“But my efforts were always a bit clumsy and
amateurish. So after a while, she
offered to help. And gradually she just
took over. It was a slow process over
quite a few months. After my parents
had gone out and as soon as I had finished my homework, she would set to work
painting my face. I was nervous at
first, but it was lovely having her so close.
It was wonderful having the prettiest lady I knew within inches of my
face and chatting to me. Just to
me. I’m sure she could have had any man
she wanted …. and mummy used to joke about all the boyfriends she’d had since
her husband died …. “
“Oh. She was
married.”
“Yes, she’s a widow.
Her husband died not long after they got married.”
“What a shame.”
“Yes. I think
initially it was why she was happy to babysit.
My brother and I were the children she never had.”
“You’ve got a brother?”
“Yes, he’s quite a few years older than me.”
“So did he know about what you are your Auntie got up to?”
“No he was older and didn’t need babysitting. He would go out in the evening with friends.”
“So it was just you and her? Alone in the house.”
“Yes.”
“And what job does she do?”
“She’s clever. She’s
a marketing consultant but also gives investment and business advice, though a
lot of the time she’s just managing her own money. When her husband died he left her rather
wealthy.”
“So, the rich widow.”
“If you must call her that.
I suppose so.”
“No wonder she attracts men.”
“It’s not like that.
I think it’s more she picks and chooses whom she wants. When I was in my teens I remember her saying,
‘You have to remember Andrew, a girl has needs, you know.’ And she winked. I didn’t know what she meant at the time.”
“Poor you.”
“And it wasn’t just men.
She has girlfriends too although I didn’t realise at the time. There were always pretty girls in their
twenties or thirties who were round at her house. At the time I thought they were there on
business but on reflection I don’t think they were there for investment advice.
Thinking about it now, I wonder whether
all of them were actually girls."
“Interesting. And
while she was making you up she still called you Andrew.”
“Andrew or Andy at that point.”
“So how did things develop?”
“Well it changed. It
ceased to be me playing with make-up and more her practising different styles
Each time she’d
bring new products to try. Expensive
stuff too. And always she’d finish by
showing me how I looked in the mirror and she’d take a few photos. It just went from there.”
and effects on me.
“Wasn’t it difficult to explain to you parents?”
“Oh, it was all cleaned off by the time they got home. They never knew.”
“Really?”
“Well, I think mummy did start to wonder when Aunt Jane
plucked my eyebrows.”
“That might have been a bit of a giveaway.”
“Oh, she just told mum that she’d been tidying me up. But the haircuts also started her
wondering.”
“Why?”
“Well Auntie offered to pay for my haircuts.”
“So?”
“Well she started to take me to her hairdresser. My hair had been long and straight. It began with me getting a page boy cut.”
“Nice.”
“But then it changed into more of a pixie look. But to get that my hair needed to curl. Initially it was just tongs but after a
while Jane wanted it moved along and I was sat alongside the ladies in the
salon with my hair in rollers. Jane
even got the manicurist to do my nails while my hair was being done”
“Didn’t you mother complain?”
“No. She just saw
that Jane had got me to be well groomed.
And my girlfriend liked it.”
"Your
girlfriend?!"
“Yes, my girlfriend.
I had a girlfriend. Why do you
sound surprised?”
“I don’t know. I’d
just thought with Aunt Jane ….”
“No. I was going out
with girls. In fact it was more a case
of the girls going out with me. They
said that I talked to them in ways that other boys didn’t. I suppose it was all the chatting I did with
Aunt Jane and the hairdressers and the manicurist. They said they felt comfortable with me.”
“That must’ve been nice.”
“And do you have a girlfriend now?”
“No. Well, yes. No, not now.
Not properly. Sorry, I’m all
confused. It’s all changed.”
“How?”
“It’s more a case of when?”
“In my mid-teens, my parents felt I didn’t need a babysitter
any longer. Which was true. But Jane said that I could come to her instead. She said that after I’d finished homework, we
could play board games – which we did – or watch TV – which we did – or a go to
a film – which we never did, although we did watch DVDs. And while I was there, she’d make me
up. So I would sit there looking like a
girl while we played Scrabble.”
“Nice.”
“And then it progressed to sleepovers, and I realised why
she wanted me to have short hair. Auntie
said she’d feed me so my mum didn’t to worry about meals for me before she went
out. Now she didn’t just get me to wear
make-up but also got me to try different wigs.
I’d wear clip-on earrings too.
She’d tuck me up in bed with me still wearing my make-up.”
“Didn’t that make a mess on the bedclothes?”
“Yes, but that didn’t worry her. She said it would wash off. I only took the make-up off after breakfast
and just before I went home.”
“Did no-one see you?”
“Only once. My
brother came round early to pick me up since I’d forgotten about a family
lunch. He just saw me and went ‘Oh!’
and that was it.”
“That was all? Didn’t
he ask questions?”
“It was more me asking him questions. On the ride home, I asked him if he was going
to say anything when we get home?. He just
shrugged and said : ‘Why should I?’”
“He sounds a cool kind of guy,” interjected Mr.V.
“He is. I love him a
lot. He just went on, ‘Whatever floats
your boat? Do you like wearing
make-up?’ And I said I wasn’t sure but
it looked kind of nice and it made Aunt Jane happy. And then he said something really strange:
‘You do know you look really pretty with it on.’ He said that quite a few of his friends had
asked him about his sister - the one who was a bit of a tomboy – and whether
she had a boyfriend. When he’d said
he only had a younger brother they’d said that I looked a bit like a girl and
that was without make-up. They’d asked
whether I was gay.”
“How did you respond?”
“I was stunned and objected.
He asked me how many girlfriends I’d had. When I said ‘lots’ he said ‘How many real
girlfriends?’
“And how many had you had?”
“Well that was the problem.
I was a bit stunned. I knew what
he meant. I went out a lot with girls,
but I think they regarded me as one of them.
Although we played around and we’d kiss, they sort of passed me
round. I was the boy they could
kiss. I couldn’t really answer. And then he asked another ‘And what about
boyfriends?’
I was getting angry.
‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ I screeched with my voice rising an
octave. He asked whether I was sure and
said that I couldn’t see it or didn’t want to see it.”
“What did he mean?”
“He asked whether I noticed how guys looked at me. And that he’d seen me
holding hands with Robin a few nights before.”
“Who’s Robin?”
“Robin’s just an old friend, and that’s what I told my
brother. He just left it at that. And he didn’t say anything.”
“Definitely one of the good guys.”
“Yes.”
end of Part 16
