A New Style of Education - Part 38

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A New Style of Education

by Karen Page


Part 38

I'm wearing trousers, so mum shouldn't see anything strange there. My coat is quite thick, so that should hide my breasts. My hair might not help much. It is longer and differently styled then when I lived with my parents. I hope she doesn't notice.

"Hello David," Mum started cheerfully, then abruptly stopped. She looked over me, her face with a slight frown. "No, not quite David." She paused and took a breath before asking, "What name do you use?"

"What?" I said lamely, crumpling slightly under my mum's gaze. After a few weeks at school, I felt quite confident in myself, but today all that confidence appeared to have abandoned me.

"The trousers are female cut and I can see the slight bumps under your coat, which is buttoned up on the wrong side. Oh, and your haircut is definitely feminine."

"Umm," I said, looking at Rachel for support. She just indicated for me to carry on. Helen was still holding my hand, giving it an occasional squeeze to let me know she was there. I straightened up and looked my Mum directly in the eye. "The name you gave me, Jayne."

Mum frowned, knowing I was referring to the letter she'd sent. "Didn't I tell you to wait until you'd finished at school? Not everybody is understanding."

"The school is okay with Jayne," said Rachel, talking at last. "The primary aim of the school is to be somewhere the children can learn in a protected environment. David, is still unsure about who he is. He decided to be Jayne for a bit to see what it's like. If he decides to go back to being David, then that is as acceptable as staying as Jayne. All anybody at the school wants is David, or Jayne, to be happy.

"Why are you here, Mum?" I asked, trying to divert everyone from my appearance. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Aren't you pleased to see me?" she asked, sounding hurt.

"Of course I'm happy to see you, but I don't want you in trouble."

"Oh, I'm not. I got a phone call from a nice man. He said you were going to be here about this time. Anyway, I'm missing study time, not work. It is all in the letter I sent yesterday, but I doubt you will have got it yet. I'm trying to catch up on the education I missed and this afternoon was home study."

"Jayne and Helen, would you please wait in the car," interrupted Rachel. "Mrs Grant and I need to have a little chat." Rachel threw her car keys to Helen, who deftly caught them.

Mum seemed different, more alert and shrewder than I remember her. I wonder what had been happening in her life. Perhaps she has moved on, like I have. One thing is for sure, people change. Helen and I walked briskly to the car, not saying anything, but we could feel the buzz emitting from each other. Once in the car, and the doors shut, we looked at each other and said excitedly, "Another leak!"

"But this one seems aimed at us," I pointed out. "Why?"

"I've no idea, but only a few people knew we were coming here today. That must narrow down the list."

"Who knew?"

"Well, Rachel for one," said Helen. "I presume Mr Hobson knew."

"And Rachel was on the phone when we were at the service station," I pointed out. "Do you think she could have leaked it?"

"Until we know who else knew, it is difficult to say. However, we do need to let Stacy know. She can start making discrete enquires at her end."

"There might be one thing that the leaker doesn't know. The company my Mum works for is a bit paranoid. All phone calls are logged and those without caller ID are recorded."

"Sounds like something The Manor teams could find," thought Helen aloud. "So far it very much looks like a Hayfield leak, rather than anybody at The Manor. Your Mum seems to have taken things well."

"I suppose. She's had that experience when she was younger and recently she was having counselling about it. Before I left, Mum didn't seem interesting in learning. I wonder if the counselling is stopping her blaming herself for her sister's death."

"It's nice that you think of James like that. I wonder what his female name was."

"If we get chance, we can ask her. If not, I can ask in the next letter," I responded. "Now, while Rachel isn't here, let me try and get hold of Stacy."

"Won't it be orchestra practice?" said Helen.

"Yes, that is why I'm sending her a text message. I'm sure she will ask for a break."

I sent the message. "Another leak. At grave of my uncle who committed suicide and my mum appeared. She said someone had rung to let her know. Please ring for more info."

Suddenly, Helen asked, "Why didn't you say goodbye to your mum, just in case she doesn't come back to the car?"

"Because ..."

"Because of what?" Helen asked, puzzled.

"Because it would have been too hard for me. I'm sure I would have started to cry, and that would probably give mum a clue," I said, starting to tear up. "I doubt Rachel is going to tell my mother that we will never see each other again. Mum would have a cow."

At that moment, the phone decided to ring. I couldn't talk in the state I was in, so passed my phone to Helen.

"Hi Stacy," said Helen. "No, Jayne is a bit tearful at the moment, just telling me how she daren't say goodbye to her mum, as she would get a big clue. I think only a few people knew where we were going today, that might be a big clue. Also, one for The Manor team. It seems the company where Jayne's mum works, records all unidentified calls. They might have the voice recorded."

Helen listened for a minute and passed the phone to me.

"Hi Stacy," I said, trying to make my voice sound normal.

"Don't worry Jayne. We will get whoever's doing this. You are the third pupil they've terrorised and I think we've got more to go on."

"Be careful who you tell," I sniffed. "Try and keep it with the Manor, just in case. Also, Rachel made a phone call when we stopped about ten thirty."

"I'll check. I doubt it's Rachel, but we can't tell. Have a safe journey back."

I snuggled up to Helen and waited for Rachel's return. It felt nice to have her comforting arms around me. I was glad of the warm coat, as the car started to get cold.

"Helen, have you started the car in your driving lessons yet?" I asked.

"Sure, why?"

"Because I'm beginning to get very cold and was wondering if you could start the engine without causing the car to move."

"Oh, right," she said, jumping out of the car and entering the driver's seat. After making sure it wasn't in gear, she started the engine. As the car started to warm up, her phone rang.

"Hi Rachel," said Helen quickly answering her phone. "No, Jayne was starting to get a bit cold, so I started the engine. Okay, see you in a few minutes."

Helen hung up the phone. "Seems your mum nearly died when she saw the car start. Rachel calmed her down by explaining that I was safe to drive."

"Safe? Mum knows that you're my age."

Helen shrugged her shoulders, but stayed in the driver's seat until Rachel turned up. She was alone.

"What happened?" I asked, with mixed feelings. Sadness, because I didn't get to see Mum one more time, and relief, as I'm not sure how I'd have coped having to say goodbye, knowing the awful truth.

"Everything is fine. She hopes you have a happy Christmas. She knows to keep what she saw to herself and I think there is little danger to the school."

"But what about seeing her again?" I asked. "How much did you tell her?"

"Just that you will be at the school every day until you finish. She understands that she won't see you until then. She is just starting to get over James's death. I didn't think giving her any other information would achieve anything."

Internally I agreed, but I couldn't say that to Rachel. I hated the thought of mum looking forward to the day she'd see me again, and having her hopes dashed. Would it be as bad for her as it was losing James?

"I don't think it would be wise to tell anybody else about bumping into my mother," I said to Rachel. "I wouldn't want others to think the school was in danger."

Helen had her arms around me as we pulled out of the car park. I started crying again as we drove past my mother, knowing this would probably be the last time I saw her for many years.

"I remember someone telling me to look forward, not back," Helen said eventually.

I gave her a little smile, remembering back to our first day at school. "I think it is sometimes easier to tell someone, that than live up to it, but you are right, I have to look forward. I've missed two days of orchestra practice and if I'm not careful, I'll lose the principle French Horn slot."

"I doubt that," laughed Helen, glad to see I was thinking of something else other than today's outing.

I had an idea, based on what Matilda did when the Americans' first arrived. I pulled out my PDA and started tapping away. I sent a note to Julia, informing her about what I planned and started preparing to send a copy of the practice to my PDA. Helen and I could then listen to the practice and hear any issues that we needed to know. Julia came back quickly, agreeing to it as long as the output only went to my PDA, and not the entire schools.

When Rachel realised that the music emanating from my PDA was the practice, she looked shocked. "How did you do that?" she asked, her eyes wide open.

"I used an idea that Matilda did the other week, though it is just coming out of mine.

"Do you mind turning it up?" she asked, sounding rather excited. "I rarely get to hear you all play."

I shrugged and turned up the volume. I suppose the last time she'd heard us play, apart from the few minutes the other week, when Matilda had done the same thing, but to all PDA's, was in France. Rachel was treating this very much as a treat.

They were practicing the final movement of Beethoven's ninth symphony. There was only an occasional interruption, where Lewis highlighted an issue. I'd played it so much, I knew the music off by heart and could visualise my part as the music progressed. From the look on Helen's face, she was doing the same.

When it ended, Rachel had a look of sheer enjoyment on her face. "I don't know how you and the choir do it, but that was wonderful. The amount of energy and feeling you all put into it. I feel very honoured that I was able to hear you again."

"Really?"

"Really. One of the things I like to do is go to concerts. I don't think I've heard a better performance."

"I suppose it's all the practice we do. I'm sure the professional orchestra's can pick up the music a lot quicker than we can."

"Probably," Rachel agreed. "However, you are young and still learning. When you finish the school, I'm sure you will find it much easier to learn the pieces."

"Rachel," I asked, after terminating the sound link from the finished rehearsal. "Did you know what James's femme name was?"

"No, sorry I don't. Your mum never told me, and it was obviously something too painful to ask her. Why?"

"I just thought after seeing the small sign mum had created, saying she wish she'd known her sister more, it would be more respectful to refer to Uncle James in the female, like you did with Tina. If you didn't know, I planned to write to mum to ask her, but I don't want to upset her. She seems to be doing a lot more with her life than she used to."

"That sounds like a nice idea, but why don't you wait until you've received the letter she's sent, so you can also respond to that."

We knew the journey was going to take a few hours, so we settled back to listen to music, play games and chat. It was nice to talk with Rachel in a neutral setting, about things in general, rather than issues we were suffering from. I would never have thought that Rachel liked to read lightweight romance novels, such as Mills and Boon, and go to things like Abba tribute concerts.

"You'll be telling me next that you've heard of The Scissor Sisters," said Helen, having downloaded the album from the school. She was listening to it on her PDA.

"I saw them doing a special on MTV the other month," laughed Rachel. "A shame all the men in it are gay. They look really great."

"They are?" I asked, surprised.

"Yup. Oh, do you know their next album is due out in the middle of next year?"

"I did, but I'm surprised you'd even heard of them," I said.

"Why?"

"I never thought you would be into stuff like that."

"Hey, I deal with children, it helps knowing what you lot enjoy. It's great that I enjoy it too, but Abba is much nicer. Okay, a quiz for you. What does the name of the band signify? The first one to find out is the winner."

Helen and I were both on our PDA's in a flash, with Rachel giggling slightly in the background at our antics. I thought about diverting some of Helen's bandwidth to my PDA to give me an advantage, but decided I'd beat her fair and square.

"You've got to be kidding," Helen suddenly exclaimed. "Are you trying to corrupt us?"

I'd found the reference just after Helen, and launched into a coughing fit. "Rachel, you don't teach sex-education classes, do you?"

"Not at all, though questions and issues do come up in student conversations. We normally don't run the classes until year-two, but I think we might be running them after Easter, for you lot."

"I thought sex wasn't allowed?"

"It isn't, but it is a statutory lesson that we have to teach. Since everyone in year-one sleeps with their partners, I think doing it earlier would be advisable. At Hayfield, we take our sex education lessons a lot further than other schools. We don't just talk about sex, but also about babies, birth, periods, and self gratification."

"Periods?" I squeaked. "I don't need to know about that, do I?"

"Does Helen have them?" Rachel asked me.

I glanced at Helen, who was red with embarrassment. "I think so," I responded.

"You don't know?" queried Rachel. "But how will you know when she needs extra comfort or extra time in the bathroom?"

"Oh," I blushed. Perhaps I'm not doing very well as a partner.

"Partners are supposed to be there for each other. If you don't understand what Helen is going through, how can you be sympathetic?"

"But it will be embarrassing having males in the class as we discuss it," uttered Helen.

"Okay Helen, who in your year should be in the lesson?" asked Rachel.

"Paula, Anna," started Helen who then paused. "I don't know."

"What about Emma?" Rachel prodded.

"Well, she isn't going to get periods, is she?"

I took a deep breath to rebuke Helen, but Rachel said, "David, wait until afterwards. So Helen, should Lewis have lessons about periods?"

"No," said Helen screwing up her face. "It would be like having a boy in the class."

"But Lewis still has periods, though they will probably stop soon with the medication he's started. What about Sam?"

"I don't know." Helen clenched her fists, sounding very frustrated. "I don't know."

"Don't you think it would help Emma so that she understands from people like you what it is like to have a period? When she is older, she is probably going to work in a company where they don't know her past. It would be helpful for her to be able to at least know what's happening, so it doesn't out her."

"I didn't think of that," said Helen, after taking a few deep breaths. It was nice to see that she was mixing her male and female sides, and not hiding her masculine side like she used to.

"Do you think you'll be able to help the others that need your knowledge?" Rachel asked gently. At no point had Rachel raised her voice, but I began realising how carefully she'd steered the conversation.

"I suppose I wasn't thinking," said Helen. "Periods are a very private thing. My mum taught me to keep things like that to myself."

"So, who do you get to teach? Dr Ruth?" I asked, trying to take the pressure off Helen.

"What a great idea," said Rachel, allowing the topic to change slightly. "She's great at talking about things like masturbation."

"I was only kidding," I said, horrified.

"So was I," laughed Rachel. "I just wish I wasn't driving and could have seen your face."

I thought about throwing something at Rachel, but since she was driving, I decided it might not be wise.

I decided it would be safer not to continue this conversation, so rang the joint head of year-D. "Hi Melissa. I said I'd give an update when I knew when we would be home. We should be home about eight. Would you let everyone know?"

"Sure, how was the day?"

"Hard. I wouldn't say this had been a pleasure trip."

"Speaking of taking a pleasure trip, we have one tomorrow," she informed me.

"That will be nice. Is it the chocolate factory?" I said, trying to remember the list.

"Yes. Erika is getting so excited. I may need some tranquilisers for her"

"I heard that!" Erika called out, obviously close to Melissa.

"Sounds like an early night will be needed. After yesterdays late night, we will all be tired."

An early night? I think that me uttering those words were a jinx. After I'd finished on the phone, Helen and I got a message that Stacy would come and see us at just past ten. At least we wouldn't be breaking curfew, but it certainly wouldn't be an early night.

"Ah, home at last," said Helen, as the car turned through the gates, which closed once we'd passed through.

"Why don't you let the rest of your year know you are nearly home?" suggested Rachel.

I looked at Helen, who had a tired look on her face. "I think we'll just sneak in and surprise them," I said, not wanting a big fuss like what happened with Jessica. "Anyway, we are nearly there now."

"Leave the basket," said Rachel, as Helen went to grab it. "I'll take it back to the kitchen. You run along."

As we walked towards the door, I turned and said to Rachel, "I think I learnt a lot today. Thank you for taking us on what was your day off."

"How did you ... ? Never mind. Run along before I take you on a more thought provoking trip."

Helen and I laughed, as we again headed towards the school entrance.

Home sweet home.



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