Beth pulls a face, trying to understand how to broach that subject next. ‘So, you were bisexual. You are bisexual. It was something you discovered about yourself in your twenties. You dated a woman you met at uni for a while.’
I stare into space for a moment. Wasn’t this more important information to reveal to me compared to the workings of the Netflix? Old Lucy had some redefined sexuality, she was on a different part of her journey, setting sail, discovering new lands. I’m still in the docks. Christ, I don’t even know how to drive a boat at this point.
‘We should have told you sooner,’ says Grace. ‘God, this is hard, Luce. We just don’t know what you know and what you don’t. Can you even forget your sexuality?’
I sit here soaking it all in, this wall of genitalia staring at me. And I’m not aroused, just immensely confused.
‘How did you guys know?’ I ask.
‘You announced it on the sisters group. I think we laughed it off to start. Like when you said you were going to join a circus and have an act involving steel knickers and an angle grinder,’ Beth explains.
‘We just let you do you,’ Grace explains.
‘These penises don’t even have faces or names. I don’t even know who these people are, whether I’ve been intimate with them. Do you do this with Max and Will?’ I ask.
Both of them look at each other, shrugging.
‘Yeah, maybe not to this degree of detail. I know you were safe and you got yourself tested a lot. That was one thing Emma drummed into you. She used to show you lots of medical journals on genital disease.’
My fingers jab at random buttons on the phone and Beth reaches over to show me how it all works, trying to encourage me to be a bit gentler. This thing tells the fricking weather. The screensaver is a photo, of all the sisters, on a night out somewhere. It looks like a picture I’d recognise because I look like the me I remember. I press an icon that says Contacts and scroll through the names.
‘So I know all these people?’ I ask.
The names go on for days. I seem to know four Lauras that I differentiate in a multitude of ways. Laura the Bitch. Old Housemate Laura. Laura Hair. Laura Paul’s GF. And people who don’t even have names. They seem to be represented by pictures. I like aubergines for a reason. Do I like aubergine? I don’t remember that being a favourite vegetable. Grace looks over my shoulder.
‘Well, maybe we can put some names to faces? We can assume that Adam with the three aubergines is maybe the man with the big appendage in your photo roll?’
‘We can?’
‘Aubergine is like the secret emoji for a penis,’ Beth informs me.
I close my eyes, exasperated. There is SO MUCH TO LEARN. And people have not made it simple. What happened to the classic winky face? How do I type out an aubergine? And why an aubergine? It’s purple. No penis is that colour unless it’s very unwell. They look more like courgettes? Cucumbers? Carrots?
And there are so many names, so many pieces to fill in this very colourful jigsaw puzzle. Do I text each one independently?Hey, it’s Lucy here. I’m texting as last month I suffered a traumatic head injury that resulted in amnesia. Please can you remind me who you are and whether we may have slept together. Thanks and best.
‘I mean, this all can wait, Luce. You’re here now with us to just try and piece together the little things, to get your strength back. It’ll come back in time,’ Beth tells me, slipping her hand in mine.
I click on notes. It’s a jumble of things but one thing seems to be pinned to the top which I will assume is there because of its importance. I open it. It’s a name and a date.
Oscar, 9th February.
I look over at Grace.
‘Maybe he was a kid whose party you did? I really don’t know, babe,’ she replies. ‘I’ve also accessed your social media accounts. You can have a scroll through those. That could be useful. It would seem your password has not changed since you were eighteen so that made things easier.’
‘Passwords_suck_balls?’
‘Yeah. And we’re having fish and chips for dinner,’ Beth explains.
‘My favourite?’
Beth nods. ‘Some things didn’t change, Luce. Don’t worry.’
I put my magic phone on my lap and allow the sisters to envelop me from both sides, sitting here in silence. I hope in the last ten years we did this a lot. I’m glad they’re here. I’m glad this still feels familiar.
‘Can we just sit here all day and stalk people on Facebook? Josh, I wouldn’t mind seeing what he looks like now?’
Beth’s eyes light up, like this might be one of her favourite pastimes.
