The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1785 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Tom relieved me on Trish watch and went down to sit with Simon for a while. “So tell me again, what happened?” he asked.

“I was in with Rushbridger and just walking back to the reception to collect Trish and her documents.”

“And?” he urged as I paused to sip my tea.

“And Bernadette apparently came in to make an appointment to see Rushbridger and instead saw Trish who was on a seat by the door listening to her iPod, eyes closed. Bernadette grabbed her whipped her out her car. She was seen by Rushbridger who told me where she was. I dashed out there but by that time she had Trish in the boot of her car and nearly ran me down as I went to challenge her.

“I had my keys in my pocket so I jumped in the Jag and chased after her. She went up the motorway and I followed thinking I’d be able to stop her there, having the faster car, but she overshot a turning and then went down it, so I lost her.

“I went up to the next junction and turned down to follow her and just went with my instincts, I came to a village spotted the postie and asked him where she lived, he knew the house and gave me directions.”

“That was a bit of luck,” commented Simon.

“Yes and no, the directions were so complicated I’d forgotten them by the time he’d finished telling me. I drove around and saw the big fence and then the house.”

“Clever, girl,” Simon patted me on the knee.

“Dunno about clever, I still had to get into the house and to our great good fortune she’d left a window open. I shinned up the dirt pipe and got in through the window and while she was still struggling with Trish I found them. Trish made a bolt for me as soon as she saw me, Bernadette grabbed her by the only stitch of clothing she had on, her panties and they tore off.”

“So the panties thing wasn’t anything sexual?” Sammi registered presence.

“No, just a coincidence, as was the way Trish turned round as she got to me and Bernadette saw her little wotsit and keeled over like she’d been poleaxed.”

Simon’s mouth dropped open. “So you didn’t clock her one?”

“I felt like it, but no, I didn’t have to–shock did it for me.”

“What do you think she was trying to do?” asked David handing round some beautiful Victoria sponge.

“I don’t think she could cope with Trish’s gender confusion.”

“Yeah, well that was obvious from the beginning–she beat her and dumped her,” Simon gave the unfortunate woman little shrift.

“She dumped her?” gasped David.

“Yes, Trish ended up in a children’s home where she was bullied and finally pushed down the stairs banging her head. I’d just taken on Meems who’d been hit by a van and managed to get her walking again and the consultant asked me if I’d try the same with Trish.”

“Because of your own history?” David verified.

“I suppose Sam considered I was someone who having been through it might cope, although that isn’t necessarily the case. In some ways the last thing I needed was a gender confused child–I was still working through my own issues.”

“And now you have a gender confused cook?” he said shrugging.

“That’s nothing,” declared Simon, we’ve had three gender bender kids, Maureen, plus one or two others and now you. We’re sort of a magnet for the gender different.”

“Wow, so I’m old hat, am I?” David pretended to be hurt by Simon’s statement.

“Not quite, you’re the first one we’ve had go the other way,” Simon responded and David smiled, “Can’t think why, who in their right mind would want to be a woman–all that bloody fuss about appearance and so on?”

David nodded, smirking.

“Oi!” said Sammi loudly, “What’s wrong with being a woman?” Whereupon David and Simon fell about laughing, she’d walked right into their trap.

Once the hilarity passed we got back down to more serious matters. “So what’s going to happen to the mad woman?” asked Simon.

“I think she’s been detained under the mental health act, or some such similar thing. When she came round she was muttering, ‘But he’s a boy,’ the shock of seeing Trish in her birthday suit seemed to do something to her mind.”

“Serves her right,” was Simon’s opinion.

“She is still Trish’s biological parent,” I cautioned.

“So, the courts gave her over to us, she lost what rights she had years ago. I hope they send her down for a long time.” Simon was now on his high horse.

“I don’t think they will.” I said quietly.

“What?” he almost shouted.

“She’s mentally ill.” I tried to put myself in her place, it wasn’t easy because I didn’t have the same prejudices, but she was still a mother.

“Trish could be as well after her ordeal.” Simon’s argument had some logic.

“I’ll help Trish to get over it, and Stephanie said she’d been shocked by the experience, especially following on after the episode on the ferry, but Trish is one tough cookie.”

“She’s eight years old, babes, how’s she gonna understand some whacky woman, she’s likely to see her in her dreams for years.”

“I hope not. Trish is special–but we’ll have to wait and see what happens.”

“So what d’you think should happen to Bernadette, Mummy?” asked Sammi.

“She needs lots of therapy to overcome her prejudices and she also needs to come to terms with the fact that everyone has the right to be themselves and to express that to the world.”

“But won’t Trish feel unsafe if they let her out? I know I would,” Sammi continued.

“Like I said, Trish is special, she’ll cope because I’ll help her. One of the things Steph and I will work on is the fear factor. If you’re scared of someone they have power over you, if you’re not, they don’t. I want Trish to view her mother as a sad rather than bad woman, who is a prisoner of her own attitude, and who until she changes it will remain unhappy.”

“What happened to the firebrand who came out fighting in defence of her children?” Simon looked almost disappointed in me.

“What example would that have given to Trish? Once I got to the house, I would rescue her whatever that took: as it happened I didn’t need violence, Bernadette’s obsession was enough to defeat her. I feel very sorry for her because she’s missed out on a happy marriage and a wonderful daughter, who we’re blessed to have instead.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Simon said in what I took to be a conciliatory tone.

“Possibly because you’re a man,” I offered, awaiting the salvo that would follow about my feminist leanings.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said reflectively.

Later as I washed up the dishes, David having gone off to bed, Sammi approached me. “I felt the same way as Daddy did, does that mean I’m wasting my time pretending to be a woman?”

“Oh darling, don’t be upset, we’re all different–there is no right or wrong way of being male or female or even in between. So who you feel you are is as valid as anyone else’s.”

I hugged her and she wiped a tear from her eye smearing her mascara. “You’re so clever, Mummy, I’m so glad I found you.”

“Darling, I’m glad you found us too.”