Unbearable Lightness of Scones

52. Scouting for Girls

Bertie was inordinately proud of the cub uniform that he had purchased with his father. When they returned from the shop, he had immediately changed into the new outfit and presented himself in the kitchen for inspection by his parents. The atmosphere there appeared tense – he could sense that – but they both smiled when he entered the room.

“Very smart, Bertie!” said Stuart. “You look ready for anything.”

“The cub motto is Be Prepared,” said Bertie. “B.P. It’s the same as Mr. Baden-Powell’s initials.”

“Baden-Powell…” muttered Irene. “I’m not sure if…”

“A very great man,” said Stuart.

Silence ensued. Bertie fiddled nervously with the woggle securing his scarf. He knew that his parents disagreed with one another over certain matters, and it seemed to him that it was always his mother’s fault. What was wrong with Mr. Baden-Powell? he wondered. And what was wrong with being prepared?

“And the green will mean that you’ll be well camouflaged when you’re out in the country,” said Stuart. “That nice green sweat shirt. Nobody will see you, Bertie!”

“Which I think would be quite a disadvantage at times,” said Irene. “One doesn’t want the boys and girls to get lost. But still, you know best, Stuart.”

Bertie looked up. Boys and girls.

“Will there be girls?” he asked.

“Of course,” said Irene. “And I should hope so, Bertie. Why shouldn’t there be girls?”

For a moment Bertie said nothing. He had hoped that cubs would be an organisation just for boys, but he knew that that sort of thing was now frowned on. Of course he had nothing against girls – except for Olive – but he had never understood why boys should not be allowed to play with other boys – if they wanted to – and girls should be allowed to play with other girls. From his own observation of the girls at school, that is exactly what they did. They were always huddling together in the playground and when a boy approached they either screamed and ran away or glared silently at the boy until he moved off again. Everybody knew that that was how girls behaved, and Bertie had not thought much more about it. But he had hoped that cubs would be different; a vain hope, it seemed.

Stuart, who had been staring out of the window, now turned round. “In my day, cubs and scouts were for boys,” he said. “Girls had brownies and guides.”

“Yes,” said Bertie eagerly. “Girls can join brownies and guides. I read about that in the book. It said that brownies and guides were for girls. That’s where girls should go.”

“I believe that brownies and guides still exist,” said Irene. “But girls can join the cubs and scouts if they wish. And quite right too.”

Bertie thought about this. “And can boys join the brownies?” he asked. He could not imagine that any boy would wish to do that, but he was interested to find out.

Both Bertie and Stuart were now looking at Irene, waiting for her answer. “An interesting question,” said Stuart. “Very interesting.”

Irene shrugged. “I believe that they cannot,” she said. “I think that brownies are just for girls.”

Bertie frowned. “But, Mummy, if girls can join the cubs, then why can’t boys join the brownies? Surely that’s not fair.”

Irene smiled; a tolerant, patient smile of the sort needed when one was explaining things to men and boys. “There has been a lot of research,” she said, “which reveals that girls wish to associate with one another. I think that they’re happier at that age when they just mix among themselves.”

“Oh yes?” said Stuart. “And boys? Might they not be happier mixing just by themselves?”

Irene cast a withering look in Stuart’s direction. “That’s not the point, Stuart, as well you know. Girls and women have been historically disadvantaged. That must be corrected. That’s exactly why male-only institutions need to reform. If you exclude girls from things like the cubs, then these exclusive, patriarchal tendencies will persist.”

Bertie listened intently. “But why should there be one rule for girls and another for boys?” he asked.

Stuart smirked. “Good question,” he said. “It seems to me that Bertie might just be right there. Why should women be allowed to have single-sex set-ups while men are not? Look at all those women’s clubs – book-groups and so on. And yet if men try to have such things they’re frowned upon, to say the least. Or made illegal, courtesy of Brussels.”

Irene looked at her watch. “There isn’t time to go into all that,” she said. “And besides, you’re wrong, Stuart. Women-only organisations are purely defensive. They’re a refuge from the oppression of men.”

Bertie watched closely. If anybody was oppressed, he thought, it was his father. And for a few moments, he experienced a feeling of utter bleakness. He had been looking forward to the cubs, to the excitement that it promised, and now it seemed to him that the cubs would be just like everything else; there would be no freedom there, particularly if Olive were to be there, as she had threatened.

“I know that you and Tofu have got something planned,” she had said a few days previously. “I can tell, Bertie. You’re planning something, aren’t you? And you think I don’t know what it is!”

“We’re not,” said Bertie.

“Oh yes you are!” Olive had said, wagging her finger under Bertie’s nose. “You should tell me, Bertie! You mustn’t keep secrets from your girlfriend.”

Bertie had looked about him, anxious lest anybody should have overheard. “I’m not your boyfriend, Olive,” he said. “Thank you very much, anyway. But I haven’t got a girlfriend.”

“Yes, you have,” said Olive. “Me. I’m your girlfriend. Everybody knows that.”

Bertie took a deep breath. “But what if I don’t want you to be?” he asked. “Surely you have to ask somebody to be your girlfriend.”

Olive’s response was quick. “Not any more,” she said. “You’re living in the past, Bertie Pollock. It’s nothing to do with boys these days – whether or not they have a girlfriend is nothing to do with them.” She paused. “Now, let me see. What are you and Tofu planning, I wonder? Is it something to do with… Yes, that’s it, I think. Is it something to do with… cubs?”

Bertie struggled to keep his composure, but failed.

“Ah-hah!” crowed Olive. “So I’m right! Well, that’s very interesting, Bertie! Because I’ve been thinking of joining too. Isn’t that nice, Bertie? We can all be cubs together.”