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(aka Bike) Part 957 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved. |
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When I finally was able to stand again, I apologised profusely to Henry for messing his carpet, and he was very good about it–but then, it wouldn’t be him who cleaned it up.
“Is this person Maureen?” he asked me quietly.
“I don’t know, could be I suppose, she had a red car–dunno what make.”
“Are ye alricht, Cathy?” Tom asked.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Wid ye like me tae come wi’ ye?”
“No, Daddy, you stay with Simon and keep an eye on the kids–make sure they don’t pull the plug on the swimming pool or whatever, and I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
The police agreed to take me to the mortuary to identify the body and to bring me back to the hotel. What a wonderful afternoon I had in prospect. Maybe, I should have taken one of our cars instead of going in the police BMW–it looked as if I was under arrest.
The mortuary was at the QA hospital and my tummy gurgled and glugged like a Victorian plumbing system. Finally, I was led into a small room and behind a curtain I heard noises–obviously they were bringing in the body.
I’d never seen Maureen without makeup and jewellery. My tummy was gurgling like mad, I had no idea what I’d see.
“In a moment, the attendant will remove the cloth from the face of the person, we’d like you to tell us if it’s the person you think it is. A nod for yes, or shake your head for no will suffice. But we have to ask you the question. Is that okay. They might be quite bashed up in a car smash. Are you ready?”
I took a deep breath and nodded–I wasn’t good with death. The copper said, ‘Okay,’ and the curtain opened and the attendant removed the cloth. I took another deep breath and opened my eyes.
Before me lay the pitiful sight of a young person with lots of facial bruising, but even with that, I could see they’d have once been quite good looking. The thin plucked eyebrows and blonde hair gave the face a feminine quality which Maureen didn’t have and the bump at the thyroid cartilage showed it was a male.
“Sorry, I don’t know who this is, or was.”
The copper nodded to the attendant and the cloth was replaced, the curtain redrawn and I was led away.
“How was my address found?”
“In a red handbag, apparently.”
“The person I gave it to had a red handbag, I think. There was no one else in the car?”
“No, just the driver, as far as we know.”
“And he or she was wearing women’s clothes?” I asked, still dazed.
“Yes, according to the report,” replied the copper.
“So, Mrs Cameron, who did you think it was?” asked the WPC.
“I offered someone a job who was transitioning from male to female.”
“Oh–might I ask why?”
“Yes, they needed some help and I had some jobs that needed to be done.”
“Who were they?”
“Maureen Ferguson, is their current name–I don’t know what their previous name was–I was trying to support their current struggle.”
“Why employ one of those weirdos when you could get a normal person?” asked the copper. I saw his female colleague’s eyes widen in surprise when he asked this crass question.
“They were qualified to do the job and believe it or not, transgender people suffer tremendous prejudice from all sorts of quarters–most of it unjustified. I was trying to redress that balance.”
He blushed at me and escorted me out to the car. I was glad to be out in the fresh air again. The smell in the mortuary–of rancid copper–made me feel ill.
“Excuse me, Mrs Cameron, do you have an address for this Maureen Ferguson?” asked the woman police officer.
“I might have.” I rummaged about in my handbag and pulled out my Blackberry, and punched in the name and up came the phone number and address.
“Someone got killed for one of those the other day,” commented the male copper.
“Well I didn’t do it, my husband gave me this a year or two ago.” I pressed dial and within a few moments I could hear Maureen’s phone ringing.
“Hello?” said the unfortunate male sounding voice.
“Maureen?”
“Yes, who’s that?”
“Cathy Cameron.”
“Oh hello, ma’am, to what do I owe this pleasure? You haven’t changed your mind in the cool light of day, I hope?”
“No certainly not. It’s a serious business, I’m afraid. I’m with the police at the mortuary; someone was killed who was transgendered and my name and address were found on the body–or in a handbag to be precise. A red handbag.”
“What sort of car was it, ma’am?”
“A red Peugeot.”
“Oh fuck–oh, excuse me ma’am–I didn’t mean to be crude. I loaned my red bag to Mitzi Perkins, she didn’t have one and she was going to visit someone. I guess she didn’t make it?”
“I’m afraid it looks that way. Was she blonde?”
“Yeah, peroxide natch, but yeah. Oh shit–poor bugger.”
“Indeed, thanks for that, is there anyone who could identify the body?” I asked on being prompted by the police.
“I suppose I could, but they’d have to come and get me an’ take me ‘ome, I’ve ‘ad a couple of beers so I’m not safe to drive.”
I explained this to the two constables, who took the phone and spoke with her. They arranged for someone to go and get her. Then they delivered me back to the hotel. I felt exhausted and ravenously hungry.
I walked in and the manager saw me arrive. “Lady Cameron, are you alright, you look all in?”
“I am–is there any chance I could get a cuppa and a sandwich and a sit down in some peace and quiet?”
“But of course–what would you like in your sandwich?”
“Tuna salad.”
“And brown or white bread?”
“Wholemeal if poss.”
“Of course, and tea.”
“Have you any Lady Grey?”
“We do, please come through to the office.”
“Can we tell no one I’m here until after I’ve eaten and rested?”
“Of course, Lady Cameron.”
“Thank you.”
A sandwich and tea arrived about fifteen or twenty minutes later–I’d fallen asleep so was a little disoriented when they woke me. I woke myself up, ate and drank, poured myself another cuppa, drank it and decided I’d better see the rest of the family.
They were actually up in Henry’s private suite watching DVDs or chatting. Simon saw me first and rushed over to greet me. He gave me a huge hug which caused me to let go the tears. He then shepherded me out to a bedroom before the kids saw me.
“Why didn’t you send for me?”
“I needed someone to keep an eye on the children.”
“You, silly girl, I coulda gone instead of you. I think I’d have recognised her.”
“It wasn’t her, it was a friend who’d borrowed her handbag.”
“Did you know them?”
I shook my head and tears flowed as I remembered that lifeless face.
“Well, it coulda been worse then?”
“Si, that person was only about my age–what a waste.”
He hugged me, “I’m afraid it happens, Babes, shit happens.”
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Comments
*Phew!*
I should have known you'd pull a fast one on us...again! You'd think we would have learned after the episode 904 (Julie vs. Ambulance) cliffhanger, but evidently we haven't :)
Now you'd better ensure Maureen drives carefully next time she visits - we don't want her picking up Stella's driving habits...
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Now I'm glad I held my tongue!
Here I was about to call you an awful person for killing off Maureen! As previously mentioned, I should have remembered the Julie thing. Shame Mitzi died though.
Anyway, I'm glad you didn't kill her off!
Abby
Simon is so....
compassionate!
I'm glad Maureen's still in the story. :-) You'd put an awful lot into her character to snuff her so early. LOL. Hmmm. I wonder if Meem's bio mum will show up again one day...
Idle thought, please ignore that.
Thanks for this episode.
Annette
>> Simon is so.... compassionate!
Well, as a banker, he'd have to be, wouldn't he?
Cheers,
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
Well, there's
Jimmy Stewart's role in "It's a Wonderful Life"... He plays a compassionate banker.
Road smashes
Prophetic words from Part 220 of EAFOAB:
But I knew that the stupidity of a small number of fools in cars had spoiled the Christmases of many, some forever.
To which we might add Easters and other holiday periods.
I'm pleased that it wasn't Maureen, but any road death is a tremendous waste of life, more so in the case of young people who will never realise their full potential.
Poignant Situations
Bike Archive
Bike Resources
That’s a Relief
Thank you Ang., I'm pleased it wasn't Maureen, she seems to be an engaging character who adds another dimension to the story. After all, not all M2Fs turn out to be drop dead gorgeous: unlike "someone" I know. She was worried when we read last night's episode this evening, and will be so relieved because she has quite taken to Maureen as a character.
Love,
Hilary
PS I wish I could vote, but I suppose a comment is less impersonal. H.
You silly bugger
Angie,
That had as many twists in it as the jokes we pass back and forth.
Bright Blessings
Angharad likes to work us up
But I'm VERY worried about how the police will treat the real Maureen. Wondering if Cathy ought to be standing by or having her lawyer standing by. Maybe clue Maureen in on the phone as a concealed recorder too.
So glad that
Maureen was not in the car, I was hoping something would happen to save her, But poor Mitzi....As Maureen put it so eloquently " Oh shit-poor bugger
As for the copper with the insensitive line in questioning.....Lets hope he doesn't speak to Maureen like that....Otherwise she might just forget she's a lady!!!
Kirri
Never Get
...in a flame war with a welder.
Many Ways
...to skin a cat, as the expression goes, not that I've ever known, or would want to know, anyone who ever did that.
But, as far as resolving a cliffhanger goes, I wasn't even thinking "borrowed handbag." That's one trick we'll probably never see again, now that we're trained to watch out for it!
Well done. As usual!
An object lesson side trip
It's interesting that Cathy herself found hope in her own traffic accident whereas this poor person only found her rest *sigh*.
And honestly sometimes in my own life I wonder if one is any better than the other.
And would there be any different for my presence? Surely it would make not a whit's worth of difference if I was around BC or not. But I was almost killed in a traffic accident one time too so I can empathize.
Sadly Mitzi's death could have gone unrecognized if not for the serendipity of having Cathy's name and address in a borrowed purse. Just another man in a dress who is one among the many 'freaks' that crass policeman would have had to deal with.
When Cathy pitched over, I think it was a sign that this person's death was beyond her ability to reach. It was meant to be but she was in a sense being 'notified'.
So what does this all mean? Cherish what you have, live as you want to, life is too short. In one sense her death is tragic, she never did complete her transition and she died so young. OTOH, she died being who she wanted to be and had the guts to try to make it so. There are so many of us who never even get that far.
Finally, I am glad Cathy did not say something stupid like mention that she is trans also. She served a far greater role by being a seeming 'normal' who is an advocate for a trans person. It however does serve to warn of the need for a trans person to pass as best they can. I know for myself, that ability has given me a 'pass' on certainly some very bad stuff and made even making myself a living possible.
Kim
Agreed
At least the woman died with some friends. It is sad to see a funeral where no one shows up. To live well loved and die regretted, worthy goals those.
Traffic accidents... mixed luck. lol
I know all too well about being involved in traffic accidents, having been in at least four, possibly five, three of them head on, the others side impacts. I was incredibly lucky, walked away from each of them with no visible injuries, but have had to deal with whiplash effect issues ever since.
While riding bicycles, I've been hit nine times, the worst being thrown over the driver's door of a car because the idiot opened it just as I was passing by their car. I had no chance to stop, went ass over teakettle over the door, banged up one knee and both wrists, but was otherwise unharmed. I gave the jerk a rather nasty piece of my mind, then picked up my bike, front wheel bent about 80°, and went on my way.
I've also been hit by cars about half a dozen times while walking, luckily ending up with nothing more serious than bruises.
To be blunt, there are way too many drivers out there that could care less about anyone else, whether in a car, on a bike, or walking.
The most amazing thing out of all of this is that I'm still mobile and able to function on my own, I could have been in much worse shape from any one of the accidents I've described. Even though I had bad luck, i.e., getting hit so much, I've also had good luck, no major injuries.
thank you
thank you for this new episode of bike i loved it just like the rest of your works
with hugs from sarav
Bike pt 957.
What a waste, I just wish that Cathy could give Mitzi another chance at the life that she wanted. And why do I get the idea that that rancid plod will be mean to Maureen? And that the Lady Cop was truly shocked? I can see a lot more to come from this.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Hopefully the cop will be
Hopefully the cop will be taken down a peg or two by his female partner. She apparently did not like his attitude and comment regarding the recently deceased Mitzi Perkins, as I did not either. I do agree with the comments that Cathy should be there when Maureen arrives or at least warn her to be on her guard regarding the cop. Angharad, you did a marvelous job of 'snookering' us all. :) Jan
Vote
VOTE, VOTE, VOTE, VOTE
It takes longer than clicking on the vote thingie—but the story’s worth it.
Gabi.
Gabi.
I'll be voting...
in local school board elections on the 20th, but there's no way to vote on stories right now, except by commenting and clicking to read. (Unless you know where a hidden voting button is hidden.)
Annette
Bike part 957
Oh no, with the vote thingy turned off, i have to leave a comment instead. Is this part of a cunnning plan, I wonder.
Another lovely chapter, I am so hooked on your wonderful tale.
Love as always
Anne G.
In Bike, like in life, we can't predict the next turn
Each day of life has so many possible turns, some good, some bad, some The End.
In Bike, like in life, we can't predict the next turn.
Kris
Kris
{I leave a trail of Kudos as I browse the site. Be careful where you step!}
Bailey Summers Another great
Bailey Summers
Another great story and plot twist. It seems Maureen knows at least some others in the TG community? perhaps this could be a way to introduce more of them and/or look at some of their issues. A FTM might be an interesting character? Especially with Stella LOL.
Bailey Summers
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You
You are too good a writer to kill off a character like Maureen.
Us 'Bikers' should of known better.
Cefin
Agreed
Even though I am sorry that a very minor character died in the story, I was much more relieved to discover Maureen was still alive
I'm still working on catching up, I only have about 2055 left to read. *LOL* I'm definitely seriously hooked on this story. Thanks, Angharad.