Second Chance(7)

They ate in silence for a moment, punctuated by the occasional scrape of cutlery on plates that set Jack’s teeth on edge.

“Oh, you’ll never guess who we saw in the supermarket today!” Jack’s mum said.

Jack tensed, gripping his knife and fork tightly and keeping his head down, eyes focused on the piece of salmon he was cutting.

Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “Do you remember Natalie, Jack’s friend from school? Well, we ran into her and her mum, and Natalie has a daughter. But she’s a transsexual now. Like in that documentary we watched a few months ago.”

“Who is?” Jack’s dad frowned. “The daughter?”

“No, Natalie.”

“Nate!” Jack said sharply. “He’s called Nate now, Mum. And you need to use he and him when you talk about him. If you’ve been watching documentaries about trans people, surely you know how it works?”

“Yes, of course, dear. But it’s hard to remember when it’s someone you always knew as a girl. And sh—he’s not here to hear me anyway.”

“That’s not the point.”

“How strange. Does she look like a man now?” Jack’s dad asked.

“He.” Jack put his knife and fork down with a clatter. “He is a man, and yes, he looks like one. I saw him last week and I didn’t even recognise him at the time.” If he’d noticed Nate’s appearance at all in the churchyard it was merely to think that he was handsome, and very much Jack’s type, but he’d been too miserable to really appreciate him.

“Yes. He looks very different,” his mum said. “Older than I remember of course, but his features were coarser, and he had stubble. I would never have guessed he wasn’t a normal man.”

Jack resisted the urge to correct her on her terminology again. At least she was trying with the pronouns now.

“I don’t understand it,” his father said. “I don’t understand why anyone would do what these people do. Nobody is perfectly happy with their bodies, but we don’t all need to cut bits off, or add new bits. I know they’re unhappy, but it’s so extreme.”

“I don’t think you can understand it unless it applies to you,” Jack said. “You don’t understand why I fancy men instead of women; you couldn’t imagine feeling the same as me. You just had to learn to accept it. This is the same.” Although sometimes Jack thought they’d never really accepted his sexuality. They’d just stopped discussing it.

“But you fancying men doesn’t cost the taxpayer millions in surgery costs or hormones.”

“Smokers cost taxpayers millions in medical fees, and they choose to smoke. Being transgender isn’t a choice.”

“Hmm.” Jack’s dad put another forkful of food in his mouth. He sounded unconvinced, but he let it drop.

Jack carried on eating, methodically chewing and swallowing. But irritation churned in his gut and stopped him from enjoying the rest of his meal.

His parents’ opinions were hardly unusual. The British media was full of outspoken critics with the increasing focus on the transgender community. Jack had made the effort to educate himself on trans issues last year when one of his friends had dated a transgender woman for a while, and he was frequently shocked by some of the negativity aimed at the trans community by certain newspapers. Hearing it aimed at Nate by his own parents was distressing in a new and personal way. He wondered how often Nate came up against opinions like these, and how it made him feel to have to justify his right to simply be himself. Maybe it wasn’t that different to being gay. Jack knew how it felt to be ashamed, to be hated for no reason other than his sexuality. Yet Jack had usually been able to hide that aspect of himself when he’d needed to. Being gay was something he had a choice about disclosing, whereas Nate would inevitably have had to come out to everyone in his life in order to transition. He would have had to demand people use his new name, his new pronouns.

It must have taken a lot of courage.



The next day, Jack was half-heartedly filling out job applications online. He knew he needed to find something soon. It wasn’t fair to let his parents support him; he had to contribute. But the idea of having interviews was bad enough, let alone having to get out in the world and deal with people on a daily basis. He was looking at part-time jobs for now; he didn’t need a big income at the moment and it seemed like a good idea to start small and not take on more than he could cope with. The stress of his previous job—working in HR for a big company—had been one of the factors in his breakdown, although it was splitting up with Miles that had finally pushed him over the edge.

When his phone buzzed with a text alert, Jack was grateful for the distraction. It was a message from Nate:

Are you free for a drink tomorrow afternoon?

Jack snorted. The idea of him having any other plans at the moment was laughable, but Nate wasn’t to know that.

Yes, what time? he replied.

Two?

Where do you want to meet. The Royal Oak? It was the village pub so was the obvious choice, although Jack would have preferred to go somewhere he wouldn’t see anyone he knew.

I’d rather go a bit further afield if that’s okay. I don’t mind driving.

Relieved they were going somewhere out of the village, and that Nate had offered a lift, as Jack was unable to do so, Jack typed back: Fine with me. Pick me up at two? I don’t mind where we go. You can choose.