The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1634 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

We did a couple more chores, with me staying fairly close to Jacquie, I didn’t want to crowd her, nor did I want her to run off. I felt she was with us for a reason and that, I believed was to help her deal with her past.

I collected the girls after getting Jacquie to do some stuff with Stella and her two babies. Then after getting the three monkeys home, I gave them some cake to eat and drink, sent them off to change and told them if they did their homework I’d bring home some fish and chips. They all shot off upstairs to change.

After some effort I managed to get Jacquie to come with me to Dr Smith’s surgery and only after promising that I go in with her when she discovered it was a male doctor. I told her that he was lovely as well as competent.

She got quite anxious in the waiting room and I had to hold her hand–the blue energy flowed gently into her, making her relax without the rest of the waiting patients thinking we were arc welding or had a fire engine up our jumpers.

Dr Smith called us in–I’d filled in the form for a new patient with her help. “Lady Cameron, how nice to see you again,” we shook hands and he asked what he could do?

I explained Jacquie’s situation and she nodded that I had the basic facts right. He listened and his face went from smiling to grave. He asked her several questions and then asked if he might examine her. She asked me to stay with her and he nodded.

She had a scar across her abdomen, and he did a quick internal which made her start to sob, but she nodded for him to continue.

“I can’t feel a cervix, and the scars are redolent of major and rather careless hysterectomy. I don’t know if they had your ovaries as well. I’m going to refer you to a consultant, but it will take some time, I’m afraid.”

“How quickly could we get this done privately?” I asked.

He made a phone call. “Tomorrow evening, six o’clock, Miss Sabatini–she’s very nice. I’ll do a referral letter and email it to her, and a copy to you.” She nodded, she had an email address she could use through my computer.

“If your suspicions are correct, I hate to think how many laws have been broken including one by the medical team who dealt with you. They’ll probably have documented that there were complications and they had to do a hysterectomy, but it looks a real butcher’s job to me.”

“Is it worth reporting it?” I asked him.

“Let’s wait until we get her records through. Should only take a couple of weeks and it’s waited seven years. By that time as well, we’ll have an expert opinion from the consultant, which will probably involve a scan. If you’re lucky, they’ll do that NHS.”

“I don’t care Dr Smith, if I have to pay for that as well, I will.” I replied to his comment.

“I think you’d best just call yourself, Mrs Cameron. If the system thinks you’re loaded, they’ll want some of it,” he winked at me. We said our goodbyes and left, promising to return the next morning for some blood to be taken. They always do that in the morning because the specimens are collected after morning surgeries. I agreed to bring her after we took the girls to school.

Jacquie was effusive in her thanks to me when we got back to the Jag, and then burst into tears. I comforted her and she confessed she thought she was now sterile but was frightened to have it confirmed. I could understand what she was feeling–a bit I suppose like suspecting you’ve got some horrible disease and after tests going in for the results.

We stopped for the fish and chips, pity they don’t do tuna–oh well, I’ll have to have plaice instead. The others were all having cod. Jacquie said she didn’t want anything but I got an extra fish just in case she changed her mind–there’d be loads of chips and the girls never ate a full portion anyway.

She didn’t eat any dinner, instead going off to her room. I was worried about her and asked Julie to keep an eye on the chimps tea party while I went up to see if Jacquie was alright.

I knocked and entered and she started and went to hide something. I eventually persuaded her to show me what it was–a bottle of aspirin. I asked her to give them to my safekeeping and left her with two, which was all she’d need for her ‘headache’.

“You don’t need to mother me,” she said, “I’m twenty bloody years old.” Then she apologised and admitted she did think of taking all the pills.

“I’m not trying to mother you, but I am trying to help you. If you run away, or do yourself in, the bad guys win.”

“I’m beginning not to care–I just want it all to be over–I’m tired of being seen as a monster or being abused because people see me as less than human. I’d rather die than be like this all my life.”

“Then they win,” I repeated.

“They’ve won already, they destroyed me when I was five years old and finished the job when I was thirteen. I have no credibility–I’m a monster, some sort of freak.” She sobbed on my shoulder.

“I have some insight into how you feel about some of these things. I can’t say I know them all, but I have some experience myself of being an outsider and being ostracised by some people and abused by others who should have known better.”

She pulled away from me, “You can’t possibly know what it’s like.”

“I can and so can two of my children, all of them have been damaged. No one else would foster them–I’ve adopted them–you can be healed. I was by the love of Simon, and Daddy, helped by Stella and then the children–they gave me something no one else could–someone to protect, who needed me and my love, they also gave me love–unconditionally.”

“Why were you ostracised–for killing those men?”

“No, that was all hushed up because the powers that be had cocked up.”

“So why were you seen as a freak–a beautiful woman like you–how are you a freak?”

“I can’t have children.”

“You can get treatment for that, IVF and stuff.”

“Not in my case.”

“Loads of women can’t conceive, they’re not freaks.”

“Yes but most of those weren’t born as boys.”

She burst out laughing, “This is a joke, isn’t it? Are you trying to cheer me up by telling funnies?”

“It isn’t a joke, Jacquie, I was registered as a boy at birth.”

She looked at me, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said shaking her head. “It would show, you’re a hundred percent female–I saw you feeding the baby–you couldn’t do that if you were a man.” She shook her head again. “Look, you don’t have to try and cheer me up, I promise I won’t top myself and that we can go and see this woman doctor tomorrow evening–you will come with me, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you come and have some food.”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks.”

“It would do you good, just have a sandwich or even some chocolate–have something to keep your energy levels up.”

In the end she came down with me and we ate my plaice and chips between us, Stella had shoved it in the slow oven of the Aga to keep warm, and it wasn’t too dried up–okay, it wasn’t too brilliant either, but it sort of filled a hole.