The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1374 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

A moment after she left Simon drove in. “Who was that?” he asked me.

“A young mother Sam Rose asked me to speak with.”

“Why?”

“She has a gender dysphoric child.”

“I suppose I should have guessed–so what were you doing trying to cure him with blue light?” he laughed at his unfunny joke.

“You’ve been drinking,” I accused.

“Only one,” he laughed, “Been down the rugger club, watched the Baa-baas beat Wales.”

“For what you did today, if you were my child I’d have grounded you for months.”

“Just as well I’m not then, ‘scuse me,” he stumbled round me and into the house.

“And he’s just driven a car–stupid overgrown schoolboy.”

He fell asleep in the chair and whilst part of me wanted to murder him, another part loved him to bits. I felt the same towards Tom, who avoided me until bedtime. It suddenly occurred to me that they were both scared of me–not literally–but of what I’d say to them about their selfish and negligent behaviour. So, I said nothing.

For the whole weekend they expected me to say something and I didn’t and wouldn’t until they relaxed and then I’d let them have it.

We discussed the recent visitor I’d had and I was glad we had because on Monday morning we had a different visitor–Geoffrey Herring. He didn’t even give me a chance to say hello, he poked me in the chest and demanded to know what I’d done to his son.

“If you touch me again, Mr Herring, you’ll regret it.”

“Oh will I now, what’re you going to do, shout at me?”

To find out he went to poke me again and I stepped back, grabbed his wrist and yanked his arm up behind him in a hammer lock. Least I think that’s what you call it. He was pleading for me to let him go and I asked him politely if he was going to behave, or did he want me to either break his arm or dislocate his shoulder? He promised to behave.

“You’re nothing but a thug,” he said rubbing his arm.

“You’re little more than a bully, but not all women are afraid of you.”

“I’ve a good mind to call the police.”

“Do that, and I’ll tell them about the way you hit your wife last night and for cruelty and abuse to your son because he’s transgendered.”

I watched the colour drain from his face. It was an intuitive guess but all the time I felt I had his number and bits of his life seemed to come into my mind.

“Look, I won’t involve the police but stay away from my wife and my son.”

“Who’s Richard Venning?” I asked him.

“Who?” he looked astonished.

“He’s the boy who called you a faggot in front of the whole school isn’t he?”

Geoffrey Herring went absolutely white.

“How old were you? About twelve?”

“Twelve and a half, if you must know, and it was a schoolboy crush. I grew out of it very quickly.”

“He called you a sissy, didn’t he.”

“He called me loads of names–look, how d’you know about all this and have you told Gina?”

“Does it matter, Mr dead straight Herring?”

“Look it’s in the past and I’d prefer it stayed there.”

I felt his overbearing manner was receding faster than his hairline. “If you’re prepared to talk like an adult about this, then come in, if not please leave now or I’ll call my husband, and he’s less reasonable than I am.”

He pulled out a clean white handkerchief and waved it, and I nearly snorted; instead I stepped back and allowed him into the house.

Jenny came back from the school run and I asked her to make us some tea, which he nodded as acceptable. I led him through to my study. I have photos of each of the children, plus a family photograph of us all together.

“Are all these your children?”

“Yes.”

“Crikey, you look too young to have children this old.”

“I’ve worn well.”

“You have indeed. My wife says you’re married to an aristocrat?”

“I am.”

“And you have experience of a gender-bender child?”

“I prefer gender different or transgender, which your child is.”

“How can you know that?”

“I know many things–I know your father died from prostate cancer and you’re terrified you have the same disease.”

“How the bloody hell, d’you know that?”

“Relax Geoffrey, you don’t have it and won’t get it.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I can.”

“Are you some sort of mystic? Crystal ball and all that?”

“No, I teach biology and read minds.”

“You read minds?” he laughed.

“Yes, how d’you think I know about your past?”

“I don’t know.”

“You told me–I read it from your mind.”

“Oh yeah–what am I thinking now?”

“Oh you’re just thinking insults and trying to block me, which, given your puerile mindset doesn’t surprise me one bit, but you are trying to remember to phone your wife to remind her to call the plumber to have your shower fixed, which is a Dolphin one, but it’s years old.”

“Geezuz–you can read my thoughts, can’t you–what are you–a witch?”

“Oh dear, you do suffer from preconceived ideas, don’t you? What have I got to do to convince you that I’m actually on your child’s side, which being a responsible if misguided parent, so are you.”

He sat and worked out what I’d just said and shrugged.

“Is your shoulder still sore?” from my manhandling.

He nodded.

“Okay–does it hurt now?”

He stood up and moved his shoulder around. “No, it feels fine now.”

“Right–so I can perform a few tricks–your daughter.”

“My er–son, I think you mean.”

“Your child is a girl–if you want her to be happy, you need to help her to achieve that end. If you don’t, you’ll lose her and she’ll eventually transition, but she won’t be anywhere near as successful because she’ll be fully grown in a male body. She’ll despise you for the rest of your life–is that what you want? Oh, and Gina will eventually leave you because of your intransigence and you’ll end up living in a bedsit on your own. If that’s what you want–mess up three lives–carry on.”

“It isn’t, I want us all to be happy–I love Gina and Carl.”

“Prove it.”

“How can I do that?”

Some people are born thick and some have thickness thrust upon them–I wasn’t sure which applied to him. “I just told you–get professional assessment for Carla’s gender problem and help her to transition. It’s what your wife wants to do, really, but she’s scared of hurting you.”

“Oh.” He suddenly burst into tears and his white flag was used for its original purpose–I hope he didn’t want to shake it about with all those bogies on it. I waited for him to compose himself.

“Better now?”

“Not really, I’m really struggling with this.”

“I know, most men would–especially those who aren’t as secure in their masculinity as they might be–and that’s quite a lot.”

“Can’t you use your magic to cure him?”

“What, sort out her plumbing problem?”

He looked questioningly at me. “No, sort out her gender thing.”

“No, it’s not within my gift.”

“Your powers are limited then?”

“Yes–but you won’t remember any of this–you’ll go home and reflect unconsciously on what has been said and how you know what you need to do to help your daughter. It isn’t negotiable–it’s fact–she is transgender–which when you reflect upon how feminine she’s always been–you’ll recognise that somehow her body is wrong for her mind and you’ll help her to correct that incongruence.”

“I need to go home–I don’t feel too well.”

“Off you go, Geoffrey, take care–oh and stay off the fags–bladder cancer isn’t nice.”

“Is that how I’m going to die?”

“Only if you keep smoking–if you stop now, you’ll live a long active life. The choice is yours.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry I poked you and called you names.”

“Apology accepted–now go and look after your wife and daughter.”

“I will–thank you.”

“What was all that about?” asked Jenny bringing Catherine to feed from me.

“I have no idea–I can’t remember what we talked about–dunno what came over me.”

“A blue light I think, the room was positively glowing with it.”

“Was it? Come on, sweetheart,” I held out my arms for my baby and she shrieked with laughter as I held her and then lifted her to my breast.