(aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2274 by Angharad Copyright © 2014 Angharad
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Julie continued to ‘mother’ me, protecting me from ‘that heartless hussy,’ who a few days ago was her much loved sister. I know, I try not to think about it too much it just causes headaches.
Sammi had taken meals over to David’s cottage and I told her to invite Hannah over if she wanted to come, she arrived as Julie and I were loading the dishwasher and clearing up the meal. “Hi, Hannah,” I said as she let herself in.
“ Hi, Lady C, Mum says to tell you dinner was lovely and to say thank you from her and David.”
“Didn’t they give you any?” I teased, she hadn’t mentioned herself.
“Yeah, it was nice, thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. How is David?”
“Yeah, he says he wants to come back to work soon.”
“Tell him to make sure he’s well enough first.”
“That’s what Mum always says.”
“Yeah, we mums have to stick together.” I picked up some more dirty crocks from the table. “Who would you like to play with?”
“Um–Trish an’ Livvie, please.”
“I think they were upstairs in their bedroom–go ahead, you know where it is.” She thanked me and went off in search of her friends.
“Danni was well out of line, wasn’t she?” Julie commented.
“She’s at an awkward age and she has had a traumatic few months.”
“Don’t make excuses for her, we’ve all had difficult periods at times, and none of us acted so badly towards you–the one person we should never abuse.”
“I would hope none of you would abuse anyone.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, I meant...oh never mind.”
I stopped and hugged her. “I know what you mean, and I’m delighted to hear you say it, but remember we work as a family.”
“Yeah, okay–we’re all wonderful.” She sighed as she spoke.
“Absolutely.”
“But some are more wonderful than others.”
“George Orwell would be most unhappy to hear you murder his prose.”
“Who?”
“Nineteen Eighty Four.”
“The year you were born?”
“No, his novel–a dystopian story of totalitarian regimes.”
“So that’s where the quote comes from?”
“No, that was Animal Farm, ‘All animals are born equal but some are more equal than others.’ That was all about the rise of communism which was supposed to be anti elite.”
“What?”
“Eric Blair...”
“Any relation to Tony?”
“Not that I know of, which would have had the poor man spinning in his grave let alone turning. Anyway, that was Orwell’s real name...”
“What, Tony Blair?”
I knew she was just winding me up because no one could be that stupid and be able to balance a till. “You know what I mean, missy, so stop taking the pissy. Orwell put his money where his mouth was and he fought in the Spanish Civil war getting shot in the throat. His book, ‘Homage to Catalonia’ is a classic and describes the reality of civil war in the nineteen thirties. It was far less romantic than Hemmingway’s fictionalised efforts, mind you some say Hemmingway didn’t do any fighting, he was too drunk much of the time.”
“You’ll be telling me to join the library next and borrow all his books.”
“You could read far worse than his stuff, his writing is technically excellent.”
“Nah, I’ll stick to Cosmo and stuff on the net–you know the tg stuff, some of it’s quite good.”
“Trish has a full set of the Gaby Stories, I’m sure she’d loan you one or two.”
“What the bike racing kid?”
“That’s the one.”
“Nah, can’t stand sex change bicycles, I suppose they chop the cross bar off, do they?”
“No they just shorten it and put heels on the pedals.”
She looked at me in astonishment. “Now who’s taking the vernacular?”
We both laughed and finished clearing the table, which I then polished quickly while Julie made us some tea. Stella, smelling the life giving fluid, appeared and demanded a cup. “I was just coming down to help but I see you’ve finished it all.”
Her ability to appear when everything was done was legend, I hoped she wasn’t as workshy when she went back to nursing. Julie poured her a cup and we all sat down to drink it in the kitchen.
“Do you ever think about your previous self?” Stella asked Julie.
“What for?” asked a bemused Julie.
“Do you not feel a sadness about losing that part of you?”
“Are you joking? I couldn’t wait to dump the cardboard cut out my previous life was and the bits of surplus skin that symbolised it.”
Stella looked surprised. “Perhaps I was wrong the other day,” she said to me, presumably regarding our talk about Danni.
“No, chalk and cheese.”
“But you had some sense of loss.”
“Yeah, but I’m just weird.”
“What are you on about?” asked Julie.
“Oh Stella and I had a chat the other evening about a possible need to mourn the loss of a previous persona or role prior to transitioning.”
“Meaning my little sister, I presume?”
“Maybe,” I replied but my blush gave it away.
“Yeah, well I was ready for it and hated every moment of being a boy; I thought you did too, Mummy?”
“I don’t think I hated anything, sweetheart.” I paused to sip my tea. “I was sad that I didn’t have the right body once I realised boys and girls were different, but they let me play dress up in nursery and I was the Virgin Mary in the school nativity play.”
“You what?”
“I played the BVM in the school nativity play.”
“And Danni said you weren’t a girl?”
“I don’t know if Danielle knew about it.”
“When was this?”
“Oh crikey, it started when Mollie Theobald who was the original Mary went sick on the day of the play...” I related the story as I remembered it which probably wasn’t very well–I was only five years old and a few things have happened since then.
“So you really were a girl?”
“Was that in doubt?” I challenged, “Only my body was wrong.”
“Was it?” asked Stella, “Given you were in late adolescence early adulthood when you started hormones, your body has rounded out like a natural female’s. You weren’t AIS, were you?”
“What’s that, Auntie Stella?”
“Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome–a biologically male body which doesn’t respond well or at all to testosterone.”
“It was suggested at times and it stopped my father insisting I be shot full of androgens to try and make a man of me.”
“But that would have been like–sacrilege,” suggested my daughter, “spoiling a lovely feminine one.”
“Actually, I don’t think it would have had much effect at all, if your body didn’t do testosterone or didn’t respond to it, it wouldn’t have to the injected ones,” was the opinion of Nurse Cameron.
“Have you never been tested, Mummy?”
“What for? I’m me, a woman now, I don’t need to know why.”
“It might help others,” insisted my daughter.
“I don’t see how, whatever my circumstances were isn’t going to help someone else whose life is probably very different and who may or may not be AIS.”
“Were your genitalia somewhat indistinct at birth?” asked Stella.
“I was there but I don’t recall anyone asking me what sex I was.”
“Oh very funny, not–right, that’s my tea drunk, I’m going to take the girls out for a walk, anyone else coming?”
I saw the sun disappear behind a very dark and threatening cloud. “As I don’t have a wet suit and flippers, I think I’ll pass,” I said smiling sweetly.
She walked to the window, “It has gone a bit dark–oh bugger.”
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/41235/nativity-play
Comments
I thought Cathy'd previously decided that
she wasn't sensitive to androgen as a youngster, thus her appearance. Someone ought to go check on Danni and Cindy. Perhaps a camera attached to Danni 24/7 considering the likelihood that she'll get into some kind of mischief.
Bike 2274
Thanks Angie for another great chapter.
Richard
Danni
Is in need of some close watching. There are too many unresolved issues inside of this kid to just think that things will iron out.
I feel that Danni may seek a out of bounds solution. life is precious, but Danni may not have the foresight to understand this.
Huggles
Michele
With those with open eyes the world reads like a book
How things change
it does not seen like five minutes ago that Julie was causing her mother problems with some of her headstrong behaviour, Still i guess it fair to say that the old idiom of a poacher turner gamekeeper is pretty accurate here... Cathy ought to look at Julie and think how well she has turned out, I'm sure with guidance and lots of love the same could be achieved with Danni.
Kirri