Where is your car?’ ‘I don’t have a car.’ ‘You don’t—why not?’ ‘I don’t drive.’ ‘Of course you don’t,’ a puff of smoke, ‘Okay, what about coaches or hacks?’ Another blank look. ‘Bus or Taxi?’ ‘The buses don’t run this late and I don’t have any money for a taxi.’ ‘What, you left your coin purse at your flat?’ Miranda didn’t answer, she just turned her head and indicated the house they had just left. ‘Fan-fucking-tastic,’ Grey scoffed, ‘God, I never thought I’d miss the Tube. ‘I don’t suppose you have any money to lend?’ the girl asked, ‘I can pay you back.’ ‘Two things wrong with that idea, Binty, one, your breadbasket appears to be bare, so getting a return on my investment is pretty bloody unlikely.’ ‘And two?’ ‘I don’t have any money. I had money,’ and it was Grey’s turn to motion meaningfully at the house. ‘Oh,’ Miranda had the good grace to look abashed. ‘Yeah, ‘oh’.’ ‘Well, do you have a car?’ ‘I have…access to one, yeah.’ ‘Well, will you give us a ride then?’ Grey gestured with. Could hiswords be sincere? I would like to believe.Maybe it's the relevant moment to tell more about my father. He was justanother person in my preschool years. We were playing together, he wastelling me various stories, he was reading me stories for goodnight and wewere happy. Then was an abrupt change of everything between us. I didn'tknow what caused this change. It happened about that time when I'd said mymother I'd prefer to be a girl. But it wasn't the same day neither thenext day. Almost a month passed and he was suddenly cold and dreary. Hisface became wrathful and ominous. He never smiled at me anymore. He nevertalked to me, just word or two. And he never referred to me by my namejust "kid". Maybe I just exaggerated myself and the true reason wassomewhere else, but then I was just fifteen and saw him, the emphaticallymasculine man, and me, the freak (by my Mother's word) denying mymasculinity I'd inherited from him in favor of femininity.I just put two and two. There had to.
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