Sammie

January 14th, 3:30 PM.

A light drizzle patters down as Flint Marlow adds the finishing touches to the birthday banner. He is methodical. Each addition is carefully considered. A gold star here. A crown there. A splash of glitter - eco-friendly, of course - and... 

"There. Finished. Eliza? How's this look?"

Eliza Logue pops her head out from around the back door. She is 36, dressed in a smart business suit. She hasn't been home long from work. Her tie is askew, and she has unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse. 

"Wow. You've been busy. You did all this yourself?"

"Yeah."

Flint adjusts his glasses. He is 32. His dinosaur dungarees are covered in flour.

"I've been doing this since Loose Women started. Does it look alright?" 

"It looks lovely." 

"Good. Good. Good." 

Flint begins pegging the banner to the washing line. 

"Do you think he'll like it?" 

"Of course, he'll like it. Why wouldn't he?" 

"I … I know. I'm just being silly, but … I just want to make this day perfect." 

"You didn't have to go to this much effort. Knowing our Sammie, he would be happy with a simple card and a pizza. But between this and the cake … You've gone above and beyond. And I am so grateful." 

"Thanks."

"Where is the birthday boy anyway?" 

"He'll be home soon. He's got Games tonight. Remember?"

"I thought that was only Thursdays."

"From fourth years onwards, it's Tuesdays and Thursdays."  

Eliza helps herself to a Party Ring from the bowl in the middle of the table. It sits among plastic tubs of Lidl dips and a cheesy pineapple hedgehog that looks like it has been involved in a hit and run. 

"Ah... Yeah, then seeing this monstrosity will definitely cheer him up."

"What monstrosity?"

"This one. Prickly, who didn't listen to his own road safety videos." 

"Oh, I know. I'm sorry. I tried my best to get it to look like a Stacey Solomon creation, but I think I used the wrong kind of cheese. The vegan cheese is more crumbly than the cheddar I used to get. I can make another. I'll still have time. Sammie finishes at 5:00. " 

"No, you're fine, love. I'm only teasing." 

Flint takes a step back to admire his work. 

"Is it straight?" 

"A little bent." 

"I can..."

"Leave it. Besides, I've been home twenty minutes and haven't even had a kiss. You completely ignored me." 

"I said hi."

"Well, I didn't hear you."

"Well then, HI!" 

"Hi." 

"How was work?" 

"Miserable. Next."

"Oh no, what happened?"

"Well, it wasn't so much work as what I got while at work." 

Eliza hands Flint the phone. It is already open on the offending text exchange.

12:56pm - Ruben Logue

Won't be coming. 

"Oh..."

"No, sorry, no explanation, no talk about getting a present or even a card for Sammie's birthday. Nothing. I'm fed up with it. I bet Bertha gets a "sorry" if he misses anything. Actually no. I'm more than fed up. I'm livid." 

"Does Sammie know?" 

"I doubt it." 

"He might have sent a more apologetic one to Sammie. You never know." 

"I do, though. I was with him for fourteen years. I know. I know that he wants nought more to do with us. And this, in his eyes, is the bare minimum. Bare minimum would actually be turning up for his child's birthday. Or giving a reason and apology, but I have given up even expecting that." 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's fine. Can't let this spoil today. Fortunately, I have planned for this scenario. Bought Sammie a card on Ruben's behalf. I'll write it for him now. It's got a picture of a golf club and an inappropriate joke about swingers."

"But Sammie doesn't like golf..."

"Exactly. It is so perfect that Sammie won't notice it's not from him. He's never taken the time to know Sammie or his interests. And always tried to enforce his interests on him." 

"Won't he be confused when he receives a text saying thanks for the card?" 

"Ugh. Maybe. But doubt he will tell the truth. He's a coward. And a bastard... Sorry." 

"You have nothing to apologise for. I'm sorry you and Sammie had to put up with that. It sounds horrible." 

"Hmm. Well, I may have a regret list longer than Henry the Eighth's wedding guest lists when it comes to my marriage with that man, but … there are two things I don't regret. Having Sammie ... and agreeing to the divorce." 

"You alright?" 

"Never better." 

Eliza eats another Party Ring. 

"Right, I have to go and write a card. Do you know any golf terms?" 

"Only Wood, Rough, Birdie. Oh, and bunker."

"Wood, rough, birdie, bunker? I am sure I can turn those into a Ruben accurate sentiment that is suitably dismissive, sexist, misogynistic and quite offensive. It will be like he was in the room." 

"Do you want a drink?" 

"Go on then."

"Tea?" 

"Do we have anything stronger?" 

"J20?"

"Tea will be fine. As long as it's not that Coriander and Ginger one. I don't know which brainiac came up with that, but they clearly have scorched off their taste buds."

"We have lemon and lime?" 

"Go on, we'll try that. Surely they can't go wrong with that."  

*********

"Mum? I'm home!"

"Shit! He's early!"

"Quick! Hide!" 

"It's not a surprise party." 

"Mum?" 

"In the garden." 

"Here, take some poppers." 

"I'm not even going to touch that one."

*********

"Surprise!" 

Sammie Logue, newly turned 15, is greeted by the snapping of string as the party poppers pop a whelming burst of paper across the garden. 

"What...?" 

"Happy birthday!" 

"T...thank you. Is... this all for me?" 

"Of course it is. Come here and give us a hug." 

"Thanks, mum."

"Don't thank me. I've been at work all day. Thank Flint." 

"Thanks, Flint." 

"You're welcome. Happy birthday, Sammie." 

"If you will just excuse me, I've got to ... get dressed. I'm still in work clothes." 

"Can I get changed as well? I want to get out of this now." 

"Course you can." 

"I'll make you that tea. Sammie, you want a drink?" 

"Yes, please." 

"J20?"

"We have J20S?"

"Apple and raspberry?"

"Yes, please! They're my favourite." 

"I know. Go on, you two, get ready. I'll make those now."

*********

"So, how was school?" 

Sammie leans casually against the wall, sipping J20 straight from the bottle as though it were beer, feeling a lot more like himself in a pair of black leggings and an oversized hoodie. 

"It was... alright. Nothing exciting, really. Just preparing for prelims."

"They're two weeks away, right?" 

"Three. If you include this one."

"Well, I know they are important, but there is no pressure to do any work tonight, okay? Not... not unless you want to, of course." 

"I hope you're not encouraging my child to slack off. His nose needs to be at the grindstone 24/7." 

Eliza laughs as she returns, dressed in a black all-in-one pantsuit. She goes for another Party Ring. 

"Where's Dad?"

"Did he not text you? I'm ... sorry, love. He was unable to come tonight. Had to work overtime at the office. But he's not forgotten you. He dropped this round this morning, didn't he, Flint?"

"O...oh … oh yeah. Yeah, he did. During Home's Under the Hammer. A two up two down in Barnsley."

"Oh ..."

"Aren't you going to open it?" 

"Alright... Oh, it's a ... golf card."

"Oh, didn't know you liked golf." 

"Neither did I. Is this him dropping hints I need to start doing more sports, because I already hate the two I'm doing?" 

"What's he say?"

"Have a par birthday. Be careful when dealing with any rough birdies or your wood will get stuck in the bunk... Yeah, no, not reading the rest of that out loud. You... you get the gist, though."

"Well... the message is in poor taste, but it's nice he got a card for you." 

"Yeah... yeah. It's ... it's a shame he isn't here tonight, though. I did need to talk to you all about something." 

 "Oh?" 

"Yeah." 

"Is something up, sweetheart? Sammie? You're shaking. What's up?" 

"I ... I ... wanted to tell you tonight, so I didn't chicken out." 

"Whatever it is, you can tell us."

"But what about Dad?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. What is it you want to tell us?" 

"I... I... I'm trans. I'm trans." 

"... ... ..." 

"... ... ..."

"I'm sorry. I ... I shouldn't have said that. I ... I just ... I just can't keep lying to myself anymore. Or to you and ... I'm ... I'm sorry." 

"Sammie... ... ... Why don't you open your presents? Start with the big shoebox at the bottom."

"W...what?" 

"Go on." 

"Trust us." 

Sammie's hands begin to quake as she makes her way slowly towards the table. She can feel their eyes watching her. 

As instructed, she reaches for the box, moving aside the neatly packaged gifts. She struggles with the lid, her hands feeling heavy and useless, but after what feels like an hour, she removes it. Sammie gasps. Inside is her childhood rabbit, Barnabus - cleaner than she had seen in years. 

She lifts him carefully from the box and hugs him close to her chest. He bleats out a few notes of rock-a-by-baby, as she catches his little cotton pull-string tail with her ring. Her fingers brush against something small and cool pinned to Barnabus’s fur. She tilts him slightly to get a better look. A tiny badge — pink, white, and blue. Her breath catches.

"You... you knew?" 

"Suspected."

"D...does Dad know? I... Is that why he's not here? Is ... is that why he sent that card?!" 

Her eyes are suddenly wide in terror. 

"No. No. No. Your father's not here because..." 

Eliza took a deep breath. 

"Your father's not here because that is his choice. It's a cruel choice. But it is the one he made. You have been so brave in this moment by telling us your truth; it is only fair that you get the truth from me, too." 

"He was never going to come? Was he?" 

"... I'm sorry. I hoped that this year was going to be different. That he would prove me wrong, but ... no. I don't think he was."

"And... the card... You?" 

"... ... ..."

"I thought so. He always spells my name wrong. He spells it with one 'm' instead of two. Always surprised me when he got it right. Though it was only ever at birthdays and Christmas... All this time?"

"... ... ... I'm sorry."

"... ... ... I don't know what to say."

"... ... Me neither." 

"S...should I give you both a moment?" 

"No. You don't have to, Flint. Mum… … …  Thank you for my present. I love him." 

"… … … It was Flint's idea." 

"… … …  Thank you."

"We … we did get you other things as well. If you want to open them?" 

"Yeah. I'd … I'd like that. Would you like that, Barney? … … …  He says yes."

"I'm proud of you, love." 

"Thanks, mum. I'm... I'm proud of you, too. Can I ... can I get rid of this card?" 

"Please do. I don't want to look at it again. Felt physically sick writing it." 

"You... It sounded an awful lot like Dad. Things I have heard him say in the past ... ... ... He isn't a nice person, is he?"

"... ... ..." 

"I don't think I want to see him anymore." 

"... ... You're okay with that?"

"... ... ... Yeah. I'm okay with that. It's something I have been thinking about for a while. But ... Yeah..."

"Whatever you decide, you have our support."

"I know. Thank you." 

"You're welcome." 

"Can I have a Party Ring?" 

"God, yes. Save me from them. I've had three already."