The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1399 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon woke up where he left off the night before–trying to fit a round peg in a certain hole. Perhaps I should feel pleased that he fancies me at all rather than try to avoid it at times. It was six in the morning and I hadn’t got to bed much before one. So I was still quite sleepy. However, I let him have his wicked way, which could be a nice way of being woken up except I kept expecting three or four faces to rush in and suggest that Simon was trying to hurt me–or judging by the noises he was making–might think I was hurting him. I wasn’t of course–as far as I know–as he seemed to think it was his birthday and Christmas rolled into one, I doubted it.

I must admit when I wake I’m usually more interested in getting the kids ready and off to school, or making sure they get their breakfast at weekends. Now I was standing in the shower trying to cool something down–goodness it was smarting.

I dried off, gave it a dose of antiseptic cream and popped a panty-liner in my panties–could be where the name comes from–and got myself dressed. I pulled on a skirt, trousers could be a bit uncomfortable after our gymnastics–and went down to see Simon off to his office.

He mentioned something about the Hindhead tunnel being opened soon and being able to get to London up the A3 a bit more easily. I laughed, the better the road the more traffic it attracts so within a short time any progress is lost. Besides, he doesn’t go to London that often these days, which was the whole point of shifting the office to Portsmouth.

I kissed him goodbye and he went to work while I went to rouse the children. Billie sat n bed waiting for the other girls to use the bathroom, which they do as a pack. Trish was fairly integrated before, even with her dangly bits whereas Billie has never made such progress, perhaps because she’s a little older and a more gauche, and unfortunately, very much more self conscious–the beginnings of adolescence?

While her younger siblings washed and messed about in the bathroom, I spoke with her. “Is everything okay–I mean apart from what we discussed last night?”

“S’okay,” she replied but I didn’t believe her.

“You used to go into the bathroom with the others, what’s changed?” I was pretty sure what the answer was but it would be useful to confirm it, then Stephanie can get stuck into it at their next session.

“Nothing.”

“Are you saying that’s an answer, there’s nothing changed or that because nothing has changed, that is the problem?”

“Yeah, bit of both.”

“I see–well just remember that surgical techniques are progressing all the time, so in some ways the longer you wait for it, the better the results should be. The other thing is the hormones will have had greater effect so your body will look that much more female so the surgery will be less of a worry by then.”

“I’m sick of waiting, I wish I had Trish’s courage to deal with things.”

“Not a good idea because it could result in you all being removed from my keeping.”

“Why–you’re our mother?”

Yes but if I can’t seem to care for you in a manner the authorities deem is suitable, they could remove you all from my care.”

“Why, Mummy?”

“Because they’d think I was colluding in your mishap.”

“But that’s silly.”

“I’m afraid the way officialdom’s mind works is probably different to the rest of us.”

“That’s even sillier.”

“So it might seem to you and I, but it’s how things happen. They would probably be thinking they were acting in your best interests. They don’t mess about with child protection issues because of the way the press have crucified them when children have been harmed. Once, they might overlook it, twice they’d be here in numbers to put the rest of us under a microscope.”

“But why?”

“Look, I have three of you who are transgender, that in itself is unusual verging on next to impossible. They’d consider what the common factor was–and that could easily be seen as me. I was transgender, so I attract or make my children so, for whatever ridiculous reason they could manufacture.”

“But the only reason we’re here is because no one else would listen to us.”

“That wouldn’t necessarily stop them putting two and two together and making five.”

“But I’d tell them, so would the others.”

“Do you think they’d listen?”

“I’d make them.”

“And just how would you do that?”

“Somehow–I would, Mummy.”

“I don’t doubt your sincerity, but I feel it would fall upon deaf ears. Some people in social services have been determined to get me because they were wrong about helping you children. They didn’t believe there could be that many transgender children in one place, unless I was making you so. In your case because you didn’t tell them initially, it would look worse than in Trish’s case because she said so before she ever met me.”

“Whatever I do is wrong–I hate myself–I wish I was dead.”

I pulled her into a cuddle. “You mustn’t say things like that. It’s my fault for not supporting you enough–you’ve done nothing wrong. Please don’t do anything to yourself–it would break my heart.”

We were both weeping when the others came back to their room. I couldn’t ask them to leave–all their clothes were in the room.

“Woss wong?” asked Mima who was already looking tearful in sympathy.

“It’s nothing–please let Billie and me deal with this a moment. Get your school clothes and dress in my room.”

“Wassamatter, Billie?” asked Trish.

“Please take your school clothes and go,” I said more firmly and they all muttered and grumbled before doing as I asked.

“See–they know I’m different–you’d all be better off without me.”

“Billie, how upset have I got to get to get through to you–we all love you–we all think of you as a delightful young lady–please don’t spoil it for yourself–hang in there a little longer.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please promise me you won’t do anything without coming to tell me first.”

“But you’ll stop me?”

“Not necessarily–if you can convince me it’s for the best–I won’t. I might even join you.”

“What will the others do then–without you?”

“I don’t know, but I expect they’d survive.”

“What if they didn’t?”

“It would be up to Daddy to find them another mummy, wouldn’t it?”

“But there’d never be anyone like you, Mummy.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“That’s silly.”

“No it isn’t–each of you is different–unique. You have some similarities–we all do. But you also have this uniqueness–we’d all miss you so much–that I don’t know if I could bear it–so I might as well come with you.”

“But then you’d go to hell, too.”

“I’ve been there before, kiddo, it has no fears for me.”

“I didn’t think you believed in it?”

“I don’t, but if you do and feel you’ll go there, I’ll come too, to help you.”

“I don’t deserve a mummy like you.”

“No, kiddo, you have that the wrong way round, It’s I who’ve failed you and therefore don’t deserve children like you. You are perfect–all my children are.”

We hugged and cried together for a bit longer before she got up and went into the shower. I crossed my fingers, wiped my face and went to see to the others. As soon as I got them in school I’d phone Stephanie and if necessary pull Billie out of classes to see her.