Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 897.

Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 897
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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Julie and I took the girls to school and the boys as usual caught the bus, nothing different there, except I needed to check out the houses in Bristol. Stella had agreed to collect the girls and they knew all about it. They all wanted to come with me, but the law says they have to go to school–so that’s where they went.

“You have two houses, Mummy?” said a surprised Julie.

“Yes, my parent’s and one I’m looking after for someone.”

“Looking after?”

“Yes, I’m nominally the owner, but I haven’t decided what to do about that yet.”

“Is it empty?”

“No, it’s rented out, so it brings in an income which is put in a trust fund.”

“You lot have so much money, we used to barely scrape by.”

“That applies to a large chunk of the population. I read somewhere that a quarter of Americans live below the poverty line–and that’s the richest country in the world. So in this country, we have a better welfare system but that may persuade the lazy not to work.”

“We had a bloke across the road from us, never did a day’s work in his life–used to drive my old man wild. There he was working hard, and that lazy bugger had all the latest gadgets and time to play with them.”

“Had–you used the past tense?”

“Yeah, he was claiming some disability benefit and working on the sly–my old man, dobbed him in. He’s in prison now and he has to pay back loads. Serves him right.”

“It does. I don’t mind supporting anyone who can’t work or is temporarily unemployed, but not the inherently lazy–they deserve all they get.”

“What’s your parent’s house like, Mummy?”

I was still a bit uncomfortable at being addressed as Mummy by someone only ten years my junior, but if it kept her quiet, I held my peace. “It’s a four-bedroom detached house in a small close. Why? What was your parent’s home like?”

“A two bedroom terrace.”

“Some of those are like little palaces,” I replied trying to minimise the difference in our origins. “Leon and his mum live in one, it’s really cosy.”

“Compared to the one we all live in?”

“Grampa’s house was far too big for us to begin with, it’s only since we seemed to be collecting children that it’s become cosy. When I first moved in with Tom...”

“Did Gramps adopt you?”

“Sort of, Simon and I were going through a rough patch and then the house was attacked by a group of thugs and we moved in with Tom, who was already acting like my adoptive father.”

“What did your real dad think?”

“I had a difficult relationship with my own father–he wanted a son and got me.”

“Oh–mine got a son, but not a very good one.”

“My father used to be quite abusive to me, and he and my mother were very religious. When I understood a bit more about science and religion, we used to argue a great deal more. I left home when I went to university–or I did effectively. We had a row, he hit me and I tried to kill myself. I was discovered and pumped out–fortunately with very little damage. I had to see a psychiatrist who changed the way I thought about myself and I haven’t looked back.”

“So you tried to kill yourself, too? Wow–it happens to real girls too.”

“Anyone can be pushed to seek a short term answer to a long term problem–it’s usually a mistake, mine certainly was. I lived in a bedsit run by a charity attached to the university, when I met Simon.”

“Was it love at first sight?” asked Julie.

“Not really, I was hit off my bike by Stella, who is–collecting the girls–oh dear.”

“She knocked you off your bike–wow, is she a maniac?”

“Not quite, and it was during a thunderstorm.”

“You could have been killed.”

“I could have been–but I wasn’t, instead she took me back to their cottage–she lived in a cottage with Simon–and sort of patched me up. Simon came home soon after and we went out to dinner–the rest as they say is history.”

“Very romantic,” said Julie obviously seeing it through an imaginary pair of rose tinted spectacles.

“Not really, the first thing I did on meeting him was to trip over and pour a glass of red wine all over his best white shirt.”

“That’s like so funny.”

“Fortunately, he thought so, too.”

“I like him–he’s really nice, isn’t he?”

“You wouldn’t necessarily think so if you were a business rival–he used to play rugby at university level–he can be very tough when the need arises.”

“Wow–Daddy used to play rugger?” It seemed incongruous that a teenager knew nothing about the person she was calling daddy, the same would go for her so called mummy–me. By that same token, I knew very little about her–something I tried to change as we drove.

“So what about you, Julie–tell me about yourself?”

“Um”–she blushed, “nothing to tell–I’ve wanted to be a girl as long as I can remember, and started dressing a few months ago, when I had some money for doing a job in a supermarket at weekends. Mum found it, showed it to Dad–he burnt it in front of me and then beat me up; called me a poof and fairy.”

I glanced across as her, there were one or two tears on her heavily painted eyelashes, but she choked them back.

“What was the first thing you bought?” I asked trying to change the subject a little.

“Apart from some tights?” I nodded my reply, “A red miniskirt and some black shoes. It was weeks before I had a chance to get a top to go with it and then I had to get some panties and a bra.”

“These days it’s relatively easy to buy stuff, what with chain stores and the internet, or even mail order.”

“It’s alright for you, Mummy–you could just go into a shop and buy it.”

“I was quite a tomboy when I was younger.”

“Was that to please your dad?”

“Sort of, and I didn’t do girly–except I did like my dolls.”

“I didn’t have any dolls,” she swallowed hard and looked out of the side window.

“Never mind–I’ll buy you one.” I patted her on her knee. She nodded and kept looking out the window. A short while later it was obvious that her efforts to control her emotions had failed and she began to sob. It was a good ten minutes before it was safe for me to pull over and console her.

“I’m sorry, Mummy,” she sobbed and hiccupped.

“Hey, it’s okay–I shouldn’t have asked you about the painful stuff, but I’d like to know more about you.”

She nodded, wiping her nose and eyes with the tissues I gave her. “Good job it’s waterproof,” she said almost laughingly referring to her mascara, before she sobbed again.

“It’s okay–you can be the person you want to be.”

“I don’t know if I want to be a hairdresser–I’m going to be a thicko compared to you and Daddy, and the other girls–they’ll all be going to uni, won’t they?”

“I don’t know–I hope so, but I’m not sure about the two boys–I’d like each of you to do the best you can for yourselves. Being a hairdresser, isn’t being a failure, it’s a very recognised trade and there’ll always be a demand for it. So you’ll always have a job–as long as you’re good enough to attract customers.”

“It’s not as good as being a doctor or a scientist–like you, or even a nurse like Auntie Stella.”

“We can’t all be doctors or scientists, we need skilled trades-people too, plumbers and electricians, hairdressers, dressmakers–people to serve us in shops. It’s about doing something you like and doing it the best you can.”

“I know–but what if I don’t like hairdressing?”

“Then you don’t have to do it–but you’ll have to do something, either go back to school or train for another job. That’s one of the good things about doing this Saturday girl job at the salon, you’ll get to know if you like it.”

“Yeah, I s’pose.” She seemed to perk up and I drove on.

“We’ll go straight to my parent’s house and you can clean up your face there–did you bring any spare makeup with you?”

She nodded and tapped her bag.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Yes, Mummy–thanks for allowing me to be me.”

“Who else can you be?” I asked in a matter of fact way.

“You know what I mean.”

“You mean a chance to try being a girl to see if you like it?”

“Yes.”

“And do you? If you don’t you don’t have to do it–you know that?”

“I do, Mummy–I like, absolutely love it. I never want to be a boy again.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” I said and winked at her.

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