Screw Loose Read Online Free PDF Page B

she had her mother’s fine hair and slender dancer’s body. As they had all glided in formation across the lobby towards the restaurant earlier, she had felt proud and perhaps a little self-conscious that these exotic adults were hers. They even smelt exotic.
    Georgia’s aunt and uncle had brought her up. They were born-again Christians. All her life she had lived with them in their ordinary weatherboard house. Her uncle and aunt were dear people, although they told her there were no lesbians in the Bible. She had read some of the Bible, but it was an enormous book with quite a few dull patches, and the thought of searching it for any mention of lesbians made her feel tired. Her uncle and aunt prayed for her salvation, and Georgia counter-prayed for a girlfriend. The prayers appeared to have cancelled one another out.
    At least these biological parents she was now sitting with didn’t seem to mind that she liked the same sex. And they encouraged her to consider Hinduism, which could be a little cooler than born-again Christianity: she loved Bollywood films, after all.
    Her mother suddenly grabbed her hand. ‘No child should be brought into the world by selfish parents such as we have been, dearest Georgia. I think of you every day with shame for what we have done to you.’ Her eyes were watery and she was squeezing Georgia’s fingers.
    â€˜Don’t worry, Mum,’ Georgia replied, then immediately felt surprised that she’d used the word Mum . She still harboured small resentments towards them both for abandoning her, but she supposed these were fading – her parents were now doing their best to make up for their cruelty. That morning in the lift, for instance, they’d offered her a holiday penthouse in Mumbai. But of course she’d refused.
    She wanted to change the subject. ‘I really want to move schools,’ she said.
    Her mother patted her hand. ‘Would you like to go to school in India, my dear?’
    Georgia shook her head.
    Her mother looked concerned. ‘We thought you were coming to India?’
    â€˜Yes. We have plans for your life.’ Her father sounded disappointed.
    â€˜I will,’ she said quickly. ‘But not yet.’
    â€˜Do you have a school in mind?’ her mother asked.
    â€˜Mary Magdalene.’
    Her mother nodded and smiled, saying, ‘Mary Magdalene. I remember it; quite exclusive but very conservative, darling Georgia. Do they still wear gloves?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Georgia answered, hoping they didn’t. Why would you wear gloves unless you were a surgeon or a sandwichmaker?
    â€˜We can contact the school and ask if they have a place,’ said her mother.
    â€˜Magdalene.’ Her father pronounced it differently from her mother. ‘That is the name of my Cambridge college!’ He laughed dreamily, then added, ‘I’m sure there will be room at the inn for you.’
    Georgia smiled at them both and decided to tell them about her future. ‘I’d like to be a carpenter,’ she announced.
    A bare hint of surprise flickered over their faces. But her father simply said, ‘Jolly good,’ then, turning around in his chair and looking concerned, ‘…and where’s that waitress?’
    â€˜Your husband will be a lucky man. You can repair his palace, perhaps,’ said her mother with a giggle.
    Georgia was shocked. What did they imagine her future to be? Palace, husband? ‘Pardon?’ she said.
    Her mother laughed. ‘Well, we’re just imaging your future, darling.’
    â€˜I like the same sex,’ she reminded them quietly.
    â€˜Ah yes,’ said her father quite loudly. ‘Ripping, but…’ He was about to say something else when her mother lifted her finger and they both looked down at the menus that had just arrived at the table.
    Georgia stared at the entrees, which were in French. Pâté with something. She knew what