Previously…

I waited by the gate and then, horror of horrors Tanya came up.

She looked at me happily.

‘Hi, Luce, not seen you around, not still upset about the funeral?’

‘No, I’m fine,’ I said looking around, waiting to be rescued by Alicia. Where was she?

‘Gosh, it’s chilly today and I have to play hockey after break. Funny that we don’t have any classes together. Wonder why that is and I haven’t seen you at meals, why is that––?’

‘–Hi, Lucinda.’

I turned and there was Alicia, dressed as I was.

‘Oh, Alicia, you know Luce then?’

‘Yes, she’s coming out with me today. Can’t stop, there’s Auntie's car.’

There was a beep on a horn and a Rolls Royce slid almost silently up to the curb. A chauffeur got out and opened the door.

‘Bye, Tanya,’ I said, smiling as Alicia led me to the car. Then I stopped smiling as I remembered where I was going and who I was about to see.

Alicia got in and I followed. It was a big car and sitting to one side was a lady about thirty to thirty-five and dressed in clothes that had never been bought at Marks & Sparks; chic was an understatement. This woman had style with a capital S.

‘Auntie Dulcie, this is my friend Lucinda and she needs your help––’

And now the story continues…

We moved off silently: so silently that I could clearly hear the beating of my heart. Alicia’s Aunt inspected me with slightly raised and perfectly shaped eyebrows. She wasn’t smiling. I took that as a bad sign and immediately looked away from her and wondered whether I ought to make a run for it at the next set of traffic lights.

‘Auntie, Lucinda is in a bit of bother–’

I looked back at Alicia’s aunt, trying to gauge her reaction to my friend’s words.

‘Indeed, and you thought I might help? Alicia, you always think I am a soft touch where you are concerned. I think you’re a spoiled brat who should be in prison by now for all the tricks you have played on the poor unsuspecting staff at your school.’

‘But, Auntie––’

‘–Don’t “but, Auntie” me, young lady. No doubt this poor girl has been drawn into one of your nefarious schemes and has been found out. Only yesterday, I received a letter from your head mistress telling me about your latest escapade–oh no, it was the one before that–the last one had you diving of a damned roof. No the one I am referring to was where you put glue on your mistress’s chair and she got her rear end stuck on it. She had to strip off her dress, ruining it in the process and then had to go and change. Luckily the room was cleared whilst this was going on and you got off your lesson, no doubt the reason for the trick in the first place. This has got to stop, Alicia. God alone knows what your father will say when he gets a bill for the dress––’

‘–But Auntie–’

The lady stopped then and looked enquiringly. ‘All right I will listen but it had better be good.’

I sort of shrank into the corner at this. Alicia’s aunt had barely looked at me and for that, I was grateful, she looked extremely formidable to me and she scared the “you know what” out of me. If my dear old dad had an aunt like her, history would have been very different.

Alicia fished about in her bag and pulled out a local newspaper. It didn’t take even a Dr Watson to work out what she was going to show her aunt.

‘Look at this, Auntie.’

She pointed out the article in question and I tried to blend in with the upholstery–not easy when it’s cream leather.

‘What? Oh yes, poor woman and that boy, he looks quite delicate…they haven’t found him yet. I feel so sorry for the poor child; tragic, just tragic and the whole county looking for the poor mite. Well, what are you trying to say, you–you, blot on the landscape?’

Alicia glanced at me and then at the chauffeur behind the old-fashioned glass partition.

‘Look closely at the photo of Brian.’

The great lady’s eyes went heavenward and then she glanced at my photo more closely, not a wonderful photo, but it was me right enough and recognisable in all my weedy glory.

‘Brian–oh yes, the boy; well, girl, spit it out, you know I can’t abide conundrums.’

‘Is that Ringo Star, auntie?’

‘What–?’

‘On the conundrums––’

‘–Stupid girl, what are you drivelling about now?’

‘Sorry, Auntie–look.’

She pointed at me and her aunt turned in my direction and her eyes sort of bored into me–talk about uncomfortable.

‘Yes, so, oh I see what you mean. Are you related, young lady?’

I just nodded–the cat had got my tongue.

‘Sister? No he has no sisters I believe. I was talking about it the other day to Pru Ponsonby. Cousin then, I thought he didn’t have any relations–?’

I looked down and my eyes started leaking, again!

‘I don’t under–good God, it’s you–him–her. Oh hell, the penny has dropped.’

There was silence for a few moments which seemed like hours in my tortured state.

I sensed her pick up a ’phone, I had already seen the drinks cabinet, I wondered where the toilet was–

‘Alfred, the Jubilee Tea Rooms and don’t spare the horses.’

She studied me closely and then the photo in the paper, then she just shook her head slightly.

‘It’s hard to believe that you are one and the same person. Are you doing this as a disguise or some sort of trick? No, don’t answer, have my handkerchief–you may keep it. We will speak further when we arrive at the tea rooms. It is quiet there at this time of day and we will find a corner table and you can tell me your story, all right?’

I just wiped my eyes, blew my nose and nodded. I did wonder if I would ever be able to speak again though. Then she smiled at me warmly and I immediately felt a bit better.

Alicia came closer and held my hand; that was nice, she was a real friend and I was so grateful that we had found one another.

~ §~

It did not take long to arrive at the tea rooms. I vaguely recalled passing the place on a couple of occasions and remembering that it looked a bit posh for the likes of me. You know the sort of place–cucumber sandwiches and drinking from dinky cups with your little finger cocked. No place for my sort.

The car swished to a halt and the chauffeur opened the door for us. I liked that, it took my mind off my problems for a micro second and made me feel all important.

The teashop door was opened by a lady in a frilly apron and cap. She didn’t quite curtsy, but it was a close run thing. Alicia’s aunt breezed into the place as if she owned it, said a few words to a lady who looked like the manageress and then we were ushered to a corner table behind a flaming great pot plant that Alicia’s aunt called an Abbydisco or something. I wasn’t paying much attention at that point as my tummy was deciding whether to do a Mount Vesuvius trick on me and erupt.

We settled down and Alicia was told to button it as the waitress came up and took our order, which included tea, orange squash and a number of cakes–no cucumber sandwiches thank goodness and then went off again on her errand of mercy!

We were not allowed to talk about little me before the waitress returned and that was okay because I didn’t know what to say and was still a bit dumb struck. I wanted a wee, but daren’t ask to go. That would be a great to-do, apart from everything else, were I to wet my knickers in public!

I wondered if my dear old dad felt the same–not wet his knickers, of course–but I mean after getting his collar felt by the local constabulary, was he nervous? He always said “say nothing until the solicitor comes,” but there was no solicitor for me today. I was here to tell this rather gorgeous looking and impressive lady, why I was dressed like this and quite frankly, I was in a blue funk despite the nice smile that she gave me in the car earlier.

Crocodiles had a bit of a smiley face, if you look at them, but that didn’t stop them from tearing poor little and not so little furry animals apart with their rather sharp teeth. I hope that she didn’t have sharp teeth!

I just sat there, my hands clasped together on my lap, trying not to look too scared and failing miserably. It was my life on the line here. How could I explain that I wasn’t a boy and never was really? How could I tell her that I had always been a square peg in a round hole and it was only very recently that the puzzle had been completed and the last piece had fallen into place and I had realised, at long last that I was different from normal people.

The drinks and eats came and then there was an agonising wait while the waitress did a bit of waitressing and served us our tea and orange squash.

‘Lovely day, modom.’

‘Yes, isn’t it? Thank you so much, I think we can manage now.’

A little bob and the perky waitress left us to it.

I sat with a sticky bun and orange squash untouched before me.

I didn’t look up as I was scared at what I might see.

‘Brian–or is it Lucinda?’

I was very interested in the hem of my skirt and the fact that I saw a thread–

‘It’s Lucinda, Auntie…’

‘Quiet, you odious child, I wasn’t asking you. Well, what is it, Brian or Lucinda?’

I glanced up at her enquiring face. She didn’t seem angry or about to stand up and denounce me as a child spawned by the devil–there I go again with my imagination.

Oh to hell with it–

‘Lucinda,’ I said in a voice sounding like a frog had taken up residence in my throat.

‘Well, Lucinda, tell me all about it–without interruptions from you, young lady.’

‘Oh, Auntie!’

‘Quiet, you reprobate. Lucinda,’ she continued quietly, ‘tell me all about it and don’t hold back as I cannot help you unless you tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

So I told her everything. About my life up until when my mum died and all that had happened since. How I realised that I wasn’t a normal boy and it was only the events of the past few weeks that had put everything in my life into some sort of meaning and focus. I didn’t hold back about my unlawful activities, although I felt a lot of shame now, I knew at the time, it was the only way I could survive. If I could have paid back everything, I would, but I was as poor as a church mouse and in no position to rectify matters.

In days gone by, I would have been hanged for less.

They listened in silence as I spoke to my navel, not daring to look up. On occasion I heard a few snuffles or possibly sniffles, but I ignored that and ploughed on with my sorry tale that would have put any law abiding citizen to shame. We may have been in the nineteen-sixties now, with all the modern, with it and laid back attitudes, but I was a child of the fifties really and I know that my mum at least would not have approved of what I had done despite having a husband who stole things in a way that was as natural to him as breathing.

As to the fact that I was a girl now, well, I had visions of both of my parents spinning in their graves at how little Brian had turned out. It almost seemed a good idea to join them–at least the pain would be over…

It was all too much and as I finished my sorry tale, I broke down and cried.

I heard the rustle of skirts and then she was sitting next to me and I was in her arms. Her scent smelt nice and I wondered in passing what it was.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur and it took some time for me to get myself together again. I vaguely recall the waitress coming over and asking if everything was all right and being told that everything was fine but that was about all. Then, as I wiped my eyes, Alicia’s aunt with disturbingly glistening eyes, disappeared for a moment leaving us to wonder what was going to happen.

It seemed that Alicia was as upset as me as her eyes were red with crying and her hanky was sopping wet. Underneath that tough exterior there was a nice girl, no matter what what she and the teachers said.

I sipped my drink and despite the allure of the cream cakes, I felt no hunger. Not so Alicia as she downed two in quick succession. Evidently, being upset didn’t spoil her appetite in the least.

A moment later–call me Auntie Dulcie–came back and sat down. She sipped some more tea and then looked at us both.

‘This needs sorting out and quickly. I have spoken to Miss Molestrangler on the telephone, Alicia, and have told her that you are to stay with me for a few days as you are still upset over certain things. You are to come as well Lucinda and when we get home, we will discuss the best way forward. It was a bit sticky when the head mistress asked who the friend was that was supposed to come with you today and I just told her that her friend had changed her mind. I am not sure if that blithering idiot Tanya or any of the other girls will blab about two girls getting in the Rolls but we will meet that problem if and when necessary. Come along, the sooner that we are home, the better.’

After a quick and relieving diversion to the ladies, we made our way to the car. It was standing outside with the chauffeur standing by the open door. People had stopped to look at us as we got in and I felt quite self-conscious but the others didn’t bat an eyelid.

~ §~

The journey took about an hour: I sat between Alicia and her aunt and said nothing. I was dog tired from all the late nights and I think Alicia was in the same boat. The rocking of the car soon sent us both to sleep and it seemed like only moments until we arrived at Auntie Dulcie’s “little pile” as she liked to call it.

As I wakened, I realised that my head was on Auntie Dulcie’s lap, so I struggled up and apologised at the same time.

‘Don’t be silly, dear, you were tired and at least you were not snoring like Alicia–’

‘–I was not snoring,’ Alicia protested as she stretched, yawned and looked out of the window. ‘Oh, we’re here.’

After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I looked out and did a double take where “here” was.

‘Blimey,’ I thought, ‘if this is what Auntie Dulcie considers a little pile, what is a big one like?’

The place was huge, bigger than the school I would say. It looked Georgian, I am not being a smarty pants, as I saw some Georgian buildings in a book at our local library. All right so I like going to the library and reading things, want to make something of it?

The car scrunched to a halt on the wide sweep of the gravel drive in front of some ginormous double doors. The gardens looked huge and I swear I saw deer in the far distance or were they cows? ‘Maybe I need an eye test.’ I thought.

One of the doors opened and a man wearing butlery type clothes came down the steps. The chauffeur, Albert–no, Alfred–got out smartly and opened the door for Auntie Dulcie.

She swept out and went up the stairs and we followed behind. As she passed the butler, she whispered a few words and he nodded briefly.

‘Hello, Mr Dawes,’ said Alicia brightly.

‘Lady Alicia, please, just Dawes.’

‘Oh pooh, you’ve known me all my life and I happen to know from your wife that when I was a little sprog, you had been known to change my nappy on more than one occasion. You should call me Alicia and this is Lucinda, my friend.’

‘Miss,’ he said looking at me and then returning to Alicia, ‘you know that I cannot address you in any other way than Lady Alicia, we have discussed this matter before and anyway, cook would be shocked and the under parlour maids would start giggling at me.’

With that, he smiled and didn’t look half as crusty!

‘Her Grace has requested that you step into the morning room while she changes. I will arrange for some refreshments while you are waiting.’

We followed the butler through the huge doors and into a reception area that was mind bogglingly large and had marble floors, an ornate ceiling and no less than two chandeliers one at each end of the vast space. There were lots of paintings of people in old fashioned clothes on the walls and believe it or not, there was a full suit of gleaming armour by the wide stars that went up one flight and then split into two–going left and right.

If the hall or whatever they called it was anything to go by, this place was certainly not a council house! Mind you, some of those town halls…

Alicia dragged me over to a door before Dawes could open the door–get it?

We went in and then Dawes followed and asked us what we fancied–well he didn’t say it like that, but I don’t speak Butle, so there.

We both settled for an orange squash and he slid away silently–as if on casters. I supposed they must teach butlers to glide, appear and disappear unobtrusively in Butler School.

I sat in a Queen Anne chair–I like antiques and there were books about them in the library too–oh I’m not going to make excuses any more–I admit it I’m a swot and love books.

Alicia sat in another chair and we kicked our heels until the drinks came, together with a plate of rather nice ginger biscuits. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was as I had only nibbled at the cakes in the tea shop, for obvious reasons.

Dawes exited stage left, silently and efficiently as we devoured our biscuits. I had stopped worrying about my perilous position–a sort of fatalistic mood had come over me–Que Sera, Sera as Doris Day sang in that film, whatever the name of it was.

‘So,’ I said between mouthfuls, ‘are you a lady or something?’

‘Mmm, Lady Alicia Whitworth,’ she replied, and I thought that might explain that she seemed to have a screw loose.

‘So what title has your aunt got?’

‘She’s Her Grace, The Duchess of Billingham,’

‘Blimey, that’s a mouthful.’

‘You get used to it. Uncle Harry–that is, His Grace the Duke of Billingham–can’t stand the title stuff, he was the second son, not in line, but Uncle Dick, who was the first born, broke his neck while hunting and Uncle Harry sort of took over by default. He just likes pottering about in the gardens and arguing about flowers with, Milligan, the mad Irish gardener.’

‘This is confusing,’

‘Tell me about it. Now where is Auntie Dulcie, she only has to throw on a frock?’

As I sat, I looked about the room. I noticed that it had a gilded and painted ceiling, large windows and doors that reached the floor that let lots of light in. Just off center was a large, highly polished dining table with chairs to match, all antiques by my reckoning. Dad would have loved this place and would have helped to empty it, given the chance. Strangely, that thought made me feel ashamed. I had grown to realise that taking things wasn’t that glamorous or exciting. You deprived others, that was was the long and short of it.

Before seeing the light, I supposed that I had been thinking in terms of my father being some sort of Robin Hood figure, who took from the rich and gave to the poor. As we were always poor, then we were the rightful beneficiaries or so it seemed at the time: now I wasn’t so sure.

The door opened and Auntie Dulcie entered. It was funny my calling her that, but I suppose that was easier than trying to call her by her title, which was a mouthful and a half.

‘So, Lucinda,’ she said as she sat down in her cream, A-line dress that showed her rather fine figure off to the full, ‘Let’s talk business. Do you want Alicia to leave?’

‘No, I would rather she be here.’

‘Very well–but, Alicia, one peep out of you and you are out.’ She gazed at her and then rather me intently and then continued; ‘Now, Lucinda, what do you want?’

‘Want?’

‘Yes, want. What I mean is, if you had the chance to do or have anything now, what would you want?’

I stared at the floor for a moment.

‘I want my mum back.’

‘I am sorry dear that is something we cannot do for you. Bearing that in mind what else do you want to do, with your life, I mean?’

‘I want…I want…’ I sighed, ‘I don’t want to go back to living as a boy.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I have never been a good or successful boy and although I didn’t realise that until just a short time ago, everything now makes sense. I don’t believe that I was ever really a boy.’

‘You know that you cannot return to the school and live as you have been, don’t you?’

‘I suppose not, but I do not want to be put in a horrid home. I would run away, I know I would and how can I go looking like this?’ I asked waving vaguely at my girls clothes, ‘they would kill me.’

‘They?’

‘The other kids; children can be horrible sometimes.’

‘Are you afraid of being a boy again?’

‘No…yes; but, miss, madam––’

‘–Auntie will do, dear.’

‘A—auntie, you don’t understand, I am not a boy. I thought I was but now realise that I’m not, so how can I be one…it…it would be a lie.’

I began to cry again. Why did I cry so much?

In the distance I could hear the tinkling of a bell.

‘Look dear, we have to find out how we can to help you. To be honest I am a bit out of my depth. I know a doctor who has had experience of dealing with the problems that you are facing and if I’m not mistaken, that was her ringing the doorbell. She is an old chum of mine from my student days at Cambridge; I rang her earlier–’

The door opened and the butler was there.

‘Dr Hargreaves has arrived, My Lady.’

‘Very good, Dawes, show her into my study, would you?’

‘Very good, My Lady,’

Auntie turned to me.

‘I have explained some of your circumstances to her, but she will have to have a look at you; are you agreeable?’

‘Will it hurt?’

‘Of course not, and she’s a sweet old thing, although a bit of a devil with a hockey stick and I’m sure that the two of you will get along like a house on fire. I’ll just go and see her and then call you when she’s ready; is that all right?’

I just nodded and, with a smile, she left us.

Glancing at Alicia, she was looking out of the window and seemed unusually quiet.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘My parents; I wish that they would get over their squabbling and then we might be a family again.’

‘Oh I am sorry, I keep forgetting that I’m not the only one with troubles. It’s very selfish of me.’

‘Don’t be a silly goose, I understand. At least my parents are alive and there’s a hope that they might get back together again. I do hope that Auntie and this doctor can sort things out for you.’

I didn’t have time to say anything more, as the door opened and Auntie beckoned me. I got up and smiled nervously at Alicia.

‘Good luck,’ she said, holding her thumbs up.

Auntie Dulcie held my hand reassuringly as I was taken down the hall to a room at the end. She opened the door and motioned for me to go through. Feeling a bit like being sent into the lion’s den and with my heart thumping nineteen to the dozen, I walked through.

Sitting behind a desk sat a lady who was of a similar age to Auntie, but dare I say it, not so pretty. It didn’t help that she was dressed in a rather severe ladies’ suit. If she changed her clothes and let her hair down, lost the glasses and had a bit of make–

‘Hello there, come and sit down. Thanks, Dulcie, I’ll call if I need you.’

I heard the door close quietly behind me as I smoothed my skirt down and sat on the Chippendale chair opposite the doctor.

She had a soft pleasant voice with a slight Scottish accent and it made me feel a bit better that she didn’t sound angry with me.

‘So, would you like me to call you Lucinda?’

‘Yes, please.’ I replied quietly, taking a deep breath to quieten my anxiety.

‘Very well, dear, perhaps you can answer a few questions about how you are now and also how you found yourself getting into this position. I know a lot about the circumstances, but I need to dig a bit deeper, can you help me do that?’

‘Y—y—yes.’

‘Don’t be frightened, I don’t judge people by the colour of their skin, their age, gender or even their sexual preferences–although I hope you don’t have to think about the last one for a few years yet. Now I’ll ask some questions and all I ask of you is that you tell the truth. Evasive or incorrect answers will not help you or me, okay?

‘Yes, Miss.’

She smiled, ‘Doctor will be fine, dear. Right, here is the first question is, are you a boy?’

‘No.’

‘Are you a girl?’

‘Yes.’

‘You have boys’ bits down below so how can you be a girl?’

‘Because my body is wrong.’

‘In what way?’

‘Because–it’s difficult to explain but when I look in the mirror I know that I am seeing a boy not a girl and the boy bits shouldn’t really be there. In my head, I’m a girl.’

‘But you didn’t feel that way before, when your mother was alive.’

‘I know that I didn’t actually put it in words, but I always felt different right from when I was young. I know that I sometimes tried on my mother’s clothes, but I was just playing dress up then, or so I thought. Now I’m not so sure, I remember feeling nice and calm when I did that and I was upset when I had to be my boy self again.’

‘Dressing in girls clothes doesn’t make you a girl though. Some boys and men do it because they enjoy dressing up but they don’t think that they are girls.’

‘No, I realise that. The clothes represent what I am, but if you take my clothes away, that doesn’t make me feel any less of a girl.’

‘So the clothes are just the outside or public showing of how you feel inside?’

‘Yes, that’s it.’

‘When did you finally realise that you are a girl?’

‘Shortly after hiding in the school. Oh it felt strange at first when I stole the clothes from that washing line but I felt more at peace somehow and comfortable in myself even then. When I arrived at the school and everyone there were girls, it just felt right to be dressed as I was and being the real me. I never knew that I would have the courage to carry all this through, but I am glad that I did because now I know who I am.’

‘And that is?’

‘Lucinda.’

The doctor talked to me for another half an hour and sort of squeezed me through the mangle and then took me up to a bedroom and asked me to get undressed, which I did. I was a bit embarrassed but nevertheless did as she asked.

She examined me from head to toe and did things which were rather uncomfortable. Then she took some blood and did some other tests. After she finished, I was allowed to get dressed again.

She sat on the bed as I dressed and talked to me.

‘Well Lucinda, I have had a good look at you and I must say that you are very under developed for your age and you haven’t hit puberty yet, although that isn’t all that unusual. I need to get this blood analysed to see what is going on but I have a rough idea about what is happening. Give me a few days to get the results and then we can talk further. You may have to go into hospital for a few additional tests, but we will cross that bridge, if and when. It is obvious to me that you believe strongly that you are a girl and looking at you, there is no doubt that you are quite androgynous–even feminine. In my medical opinion, provisionally anyway, I feel that it would do more harm than good for you present yourself as a boy at this time. For the moment I am happy to support you in this and will do all I can to smooth the way with the authorities.’

‘Will I be taken away?’

‘No, Dulcie has told the authorities that she will be looking after you until things are sorted and because she carries a lot of weight around here; be assured that no one is going to take you away. The matter of your gender has not, as yet been discussed with the authorities. Experience tells me that it is best to have everything in place, before broaching the subject with them. I’ll let Dulcie explain more later. For the moment, let’s go downstairs and see if we can get a cup of tea.’

Ten minutes later, I found myself in Alicia’s room. She had her own room because she stayed with her aunt quite a lot and more regularly since her parents’ marriage problems had surfaced.

We were lying on the bed staring at the ceiling and talking quietly. I told her about the doctor and what she said — I didn’t mention the medical bits much as they were embarrassing and I preferred not to talk about them.

‘Golly, that’s great; you can stay here for a bit anyway. Maybe I can get some compash leave from school so I can keep you company.’

‘Don’t you like school?’

‘Yes–well sometimes. You see, I hate being told what to do. I know it’s a fault of mine. Daddy is a bit like that, so I probably got it from him. It’s a jolly good school really, compared to some.’

‘My old school was awful. Lessons were a joke and teachers had no control. I was bullied like a lot of other small kids and the teachers–the headmaster in particular–always seemed to side with the bullies. I lost count in the end, the amount of times I came home battered and bruised after a thrashing from the bullies and a caning from the headmaster.’

‘It sounds absolutely horrible.’

‘It was.’

‘Not like my school. I know that I knock it sometimes, but the mistresses are fairly decent and we have quite a good time really. The Mole is a bit frightening and you don’t want to get a tongue lashing from her, but I thinks she’s quite nice for an oldun.’

‘I would love to go there, as a pupil not a stowaway or whatever it’s called when you are on dry land.’

‘That would be soooper. Mind you, you would have to do school work and prep if they allowed you in.’

‘I can’t go there though; I’m not rich like you.’

‘Oh they have scholarship girls and I reckon that you must eat lots of fish because you seem quite brainy. The school loves brainy kids for some reason.’

‘What about my boy bits?’

‘What about them? You aren’t going to go around school parading them are you?’

We both began giggling at that thought and then one thing led to another and in no time flat, we were having a pillow fight with feathers flying everywhere.

‘Excuse me.’

Everything sort of stopped dead. We looked over at the door and there was Her Grace, The Duchess of Billingham and she was not amused. Feathers were falling like soft snow, getting into our eyes and hair and making me sneeze — it was like a Christmas scene — almost!

‘What is the meaning of this?’

‘Oh, Auntie, sorry it’s my fault, we sort of got carried away.’

‘Alicia, you should know better–’

‘–No, Auntie, it was my fault, I said something silly and then we were off.’

Then I sneezed as a feather went up my nose.

‘Thank you for owning up, Lucinda but it looks as if the blame is shared equally so you should both go to Miss Trotwood and ask for some dustpans and brushes–off you go.’

Miss Trotwood, the housekeeper, supplied us with the necessary and I could see that she was holding back the laughter as she handed us the cleaning equipment. Ah well it was worth it, I supposed.

~ §~

‘Time for bed, Alicia.’

‘Oh, Aunteee!’

It was quite late in the evening. We had had a nice supper in the morning room of all places and I must say, cook did us proud with steak and kidney pudding followed by jam roly-poly. Auntie had gone out to some function or other so it was just Alicia and I, not forgetting a staff of eighty–well that was an exaggeration but that’s how it felt at the time.

After our rib stretching meal, we watched a few programs on television before Auntie returned and pronounced that it was bed time.

She was wearing a floor length lemon silk gown and she looked really fab. She was dripping with jewellery and had a beautiful tiara in her hair. I did so wish that I could wear things like that when I was older, but the jury was out on that and I did wonder a bit about the future. After kissing us both goodnight, she shooed us off to bed.

Alicia’s bedroom was next to mine. I borrowed a nightie, pink–I like pink–dressing gown, slippers, flannel and toothbrush from her and we went to our respective bedrooms. I think Alicia wanted to stay up all night and talk, but to be honest we were both tired out and so we just hugged and said goodnight with the promise in the morning that Alicia would show me her pony–Tinkerbell.

I slipped into bed and pulled the cover up. It had taken moments to change, brush my teeth, have a wee and wash my face and hands. The bed felt soft and warm and I snuggled down and with the bedside lamp off, I shut my eyes, sighed and settled down to sleep.

Only I didn’t sleep. I was so tired but at the same time totally wound up like a clock spring. Thoughts kept on going around my head as I wondered what would become of me. I couldn’t go through any more pain and heartache. Although Auntie had been so kind to me and the understanding doctor too, all I could think of was that someone would come and take me away. Maybe Percy Pointer would arrive on the doorstep and demand that I be taken back to the boys school and then be thrashed with the cane for truancy.

Then it could be some terrible person from the council insisting that I change into rough boys’ clothes and then be put into a home with other kids who would never understand who I really was.

I tried for ages to sleep, but I couldn’t. Then I had a thought, maybe a glass of milk might help. I was sure that they wouldn’t mind–well I hoped so, anyway.

I switched on the light on the bedside table and got out of bed. I stepped into my slippers and then put on my dressing gown over my nightie and when I was ready, I went over to the door and opened it. It almost felt like I was back at the school as I slipped into the hallway and made my way downstairs waiting for that ever-possible tap on my shoulder.

Only this wasn’t the school it was a house–well mansion if you want to be picky. There were a few lights on and I didn’t have any trouble finding the kitchen. It was about one in the morning and the place was a quiet as the grave, apart from the loud ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall.

I switched the light on in the kitchen, which was large by any standard and almost as big as the school one.

Going to the fridge, I picked up one of the bottles of milk. Over to the side were some saucepans including a small milk pan.

Soon the milk was heating on the gas stove and I found a mug hanging on a peg with some others in a huge dresser to one side of the kitchen.

After pouring the hot milk into the mug, I sat at a huge farmhouse-type wooden table and blew on the milk to cool it down a bit.

I jumped when I heard a noise.

Then the door opened and there was Auntie!

I nearly dropped my drink in fright as she looked at me sitting there, mug in hand and no doubt looking as guilty as sin.

‘Hello, Lucinda,’ she said coming up, ‘are you all right?’

‘Sorry, please don’t send me away. I shouldn’t have come downstairs, oh please don’t send me away!’

All my insecurity came flooding out as I once again began crying almost uncontrollably. How I didn’t spill my drink I never knew, but somehow I found myself in her arms as she tried to comfort me.

So this was what I was now? No longer the tough, resourceful person, able to face up to the world alone and without help. I was now a nervous wreck, not able to do anything without bursting into tears.

Eventually I calmed down as I heard soothing words that to this day I cannot remember. I was emotionally drained and so tired that I could hardly keep my eyes open. The disturbing outpourings had released a pressure valve that had been building all day. It took a while to realise that I wasn’t in trouble and once I realised that, I became more rational.

‘Now dry your eyes and drink your milk before it gets cold. Then up to bed with you.’

Sniffing, I did as I was told and then Auntie took me back upstairs to my room and made sure that I was safely tucked up again. She then sat on the bed and talked to me in a quiet and gentle voice.

‘Lucinda, I know you’re tired, but being tired doesn’t always guarantee sleep, that is why you got up in the first place. I was going to have a chat with you tomorrow, but to put your mind at rest; I will let you know what has happened today. As Dr Hargreaves mentioned, I have spoken to the authorities and they are happy for you to stay here. The police have been informed that you have been found and are safe. I will not let you be put into any home no matter what the outcome of your medical tests. I have a few ideas as to how we can solve your problems, but need to speak to my husband when he arrives home from Cannes tomorrow. As it is, I can promise you solemnly that you will be well cared for in a loving home and not placed anywhere where you do not want to be. Also, I will do everything in my power to help you be the person you want and need to be. Do you believe me?’

‘Yes, miss,’

‘Auntie.’

‘Yes, A—Auntie,’

‘Good girl–hmm, something is missing, I won’t be a tick.’

She got up and left the room. I was wondering what was going on when almost as soon as she left, she was back, carrying something small and furry. She put it on the bed and it meowed at me–it was a kitten!

‘This is Mandy; our cat Ellie-Mae has had a litter and they are all going to good homes in the next few weeks except this one as everyone loves her too much to let her go. She is a bit adventurous and likes to find nice warm places near people. She might stay the night and she might not, but judging by the way she has made herself at home, I think you have some company for tonight. Goodnight, dear, we will talk tomorrow.’

She kissed me on the forehead. ‘Goodnight, sweet dreams. If you are worried or can’t sleep, come and see me, I am three doors up on the left.’

‘Goodnight and thank you for having me.’

With my immediate worries out of the way, and to the gentle purring sounds of the tiny cat sleeping against my tummy, I was able to sleep more peacefully than I had in a very long time.

To Be Continued...

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Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.