My heart aches for her. If my guess is right, she thinks her voice and way of speaking makes her sound racially inferior when in fact there’s nothing wrong with her voice as such. Her half-grunt, half-sneering way of speaking is what jars.
I pause and look at her. “I used to be very shy and people often complained they couldn’t hear me properly. At school, I was ignored and treated like a nobody. It wasn’t until I got into broadcasting that I learnt that your voice is your ambassador.”
No, that’s a bad explanation.
“It’s like your clothes and make-up – you can make whatever impression you like by wearing the right things.”
She nods several times in agreement.
“Same with how you speak. Not just your voice but also the way you use it. I’ve learnt how to sound different depending on whether I’m chatting with one person, talking to camera or addressing a group of people.”
She chews her lip for a minute, then asks, “Can you teach, like?”
After all their help with the ivy? “Of course. I can teach you.”
Ricky who’s stopped clearing rubbish, takes an uncertain step closer.
“Both of you, if you like.” I smile at him to make sure he feels included. “Not just voice but how to speak in a way that sounds smart and educated.”
Without warning, Rhian flings her arms around me. “Thank you. That’s brilliant. I hate people judging me like I’m pigeon shit.”
In truth, they both need to improve their grammar and diction but I’m not going to point that out just now. From memory, nothing is less exciting at their age than grammar. But this can come later. For now, they seem to have decided to make me their friend and want to give me a full briefing on Kendric House.
I let Rhian talk while I work, listening with half an ear until something snags my attention.
“I mean, a lot of the girls like Osian, but she acts like he’s hers and is super mean to any other girl that even talks to him.”
My hands still halfway through cutting a particularly stubborn stem. I really should not encourage her. Gossip is horrible and ruins lives. I should know. But it would take superhuman strength to resist.
“Why?”
“Because she’s a bitch. And she treats Llewellyn like a doormat. He’s too nice. I wish he just kicked her out,” she says, surprisingly vehement.
I’m lost; who is she talking about?Before I can ask, Ricky is back for more rubbish.
“Don’t let Haneen hear you gossiping,” he says.
“She knows. So do Evan and the gerris—”
“Shhhh!” He looks around nervously, then catches my eye. “Please don’t tell. We’re not allowed to call them geriatrics.”
“No, that’s not a nice name,” I say evenly.
“Okay, the Squad,” Rhian grumbles. “They also know about Nora and just say it because they don’t want to hurt Llewellyn’s feelings.”
“Nora is his girlfriend?” I risk a small question.
“They broke up. She was packing her luggage in her car when Osian turned up and she totally changed her mind and came back.”
So things haven’t changed much since school. He’s still a heartthrob causing competition, jealousy and obsession. Marriage hasn’t changed him.
“She still hasn’t got him.” Rhian isn’t even pretending to work now. “Osian doesn’t have any girlfriends.”
I really need to change the subject. “Can you try that branch behind?” I hand her a trowel to help her pry it off the wall.
“He must be gay because he doesn’t flirt with any of us,” Rhian continues.
“Don’t be stupid!” Ricky argues hotly.
