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Chapter 7

Previously …

At last, the service drew to a close and I had really enjoyed singing with the others. I was sad that it was all ending but proud that I had played a small part in its obvious success. It was a very talented choir and I found out afterwards that it had won many prizes in the past.

The last hymn was Hark! the Herald Angels Sing, and with the candles, we all proceeded to go out of the church.

As we walked along the aisle, towards the back, I nearly stumbled as there, standing in one of the pews, looking directly at me, with tears in her eyes, was my mother.

And now the story continues…

My singing faltered as I smiled at her. She didn’t smile back and, if anything, she seemed very scared. The person behind ran into me and I had to keep moving, otherwise there would have been a body pileup.

I had to carry on; my mind not really on what I was singing. What was the meaning of it? Was she just there because she liked carol services? Did she really recognise me for who I was or was it because we had met at The Seashells briefly and she was acknowledging that fact?

I had more questions than answers and wasn’t sure what I should do now. The procession ended down by the quay at the Christmas tree, where more candle and torch carrying people stood and applauded us. At any other time I would have enjoyed it all, but the sight of my mother staring at me like that had put a dampener on my previous happy feelings.

Our coats and other clothes had been transferred from the village hall to the small seamen’s mission hall at the end of the quay, near where the RNLI station was. As soon as the singing ended we all made a move to go and change, as the weather was getting colder and the snow thicker.

‘Look,’ I said to Sarah and Hannah, ‘I have to go back to the church.’

‘Why?’ asked Hannah.

‘I think that I saw my mum in there and I need to catch her before she goes home.’

‘You had better be quick then,’ said Sarah, ‘we’ll tell the others where you are. We will be down by the quay, maybe skating or in the café or The Copper Kettle getting warm drinks.’

‘Okay, I might see you down there, if not, don't worry; bye.’

With a wave, I was off, through the quay and up the hill to the church, trying to avoid slipping over on the snow covered ground. Everywhere, the crowds were still milling about and it was surprising that a seaside village like this was such a busy and popular place, but then I realised that that was a silly though. Penmarris was popular because of what it was – magical.

I hoped and prayed that my mum was still there, as I desperately wanted to see her. I increased my pace as I got into the churchyard and made my way to the church. Bells were still peeling in celebration of the Christmas to come and I could hardly hear myself think from the noise.

David, the vicar was shaking hands with someone as I came up to the door.

‘Can I go in?’ I asked.

‘Of course Katie, forgotten something?’

‘Not really, I just saw someone I recognised.’

I didn’t wait for any reply as I went into the church and had a look around. The place was empty apart from a few women talking by the font including Jo, who looked up as I went over.

‘Are you okay Katie?’

‘Can I have a word?’

‘Of course; excuse me ladies.’

We went back into the vestry and I wasted no time in telling Jo what had happened.

’So she saw you and reacted?’

‘I think so or maybe it was a coincidence and she was just being emotional about the music and the choir – I don't know any more. At first I thought that it was all about me, but I could have misread the situation; but I am sure that she recognised me from earlier.’

‘Well I know almost everyone who lives in Penmarris, but I don't think that I have ever met her and, strangely enough, no-one has mentioned her or talked about The Seashells come to that. You may have noticed that this is a very closely knit community and I find it hard to believe that she is such a mystery.’

‘What should I do; go and confront her?’

Jo thought for a moment and then shook her head.

‘I think that what we originally planned is the best way forward. You write a note and I’ll take it up to her early tomorrow morning...’

‘But that’s Christmas Day. I don't want to spoil it for you and your family.’

‘You don't know much about a vicar’s family at Christmas do you? David has a service in the morning and again in the afternoon. Our family celebrations work around that; so you are not spoiling anything. Pippa and Jen get up early to see to the ponies, David is always brushing up on the sermon and service that he knows by heart and I will be stuffing a few bits in the oven for a quick lunch. We have our main meal in the evening and we will be going up to the manor for that.’

‘Is that the place where Lady Fairbairn lives?’

‘That’s it. It’s a tradition now that she invites everyone close to her for a Christmas meal. There are a lot of people going including everyone from The Gang, so you won’t feel out of it.’

‘I’m invited?’

‘Yes, Lady F specifically asked me to tell you to come. That, by the way, is more like a royal command and she never takes no for an answer.

‘What if my mum accepts me? I would rather be with her, to be honest. We have a lot to catching up to do.’

‘Let’s see what happens shall we? You can always adjust your plans if things don't work out. Whatever happens, we are all here for you.’

I gave her a hug. I was getting more used to the touchy-feely thing. Who would have thought that I, a convicted untrusting hard case and someone who scorned any signs of affection, would go all gooey inside like that?

Jo had some tidying up to do in the church so, to take my mind off things, I went down to the quay to meet up with my new friends. Once again, I had that warm feeling, as I realised that I had real friends now; more than I had ever had. The snow was beginning to fall heavier now, covering everything with a fine patina of white that just added to the magical beauty of a place. A place where I felt, more than ever, should be my permanent home, whether or not I was accepted by my mother. Things like where I would live and how I would earn a living would be something that I would find out soon, but for now, I was living for the moment.

In the past, I kept everyone at arm’s length; never knowing what my future would hold. What was the point of making friends with anyone when one, I was a girl and I was mainly around boys who were not on my wavelength and two, I was continually being moved on from place to place? Penmarris was different and I believed it was where that could put down roots and begin to have a proper, normal life.

Unsurprisingly, I found The Gang skating and I hired some skates and joined them. I was getting more used to skating now and only fell over twice. Soon, my troubles went to the back of my mind as I laughed and joked about with my new friends as we did a sort of dance train with me hanging on like grim death to Sarah in front of me and with Amy gripping my waist with her hands from behind.

In the end, we all landed on the cold ice and somehow we found it to be hilarious.

After the manic skating fiasco, we made our way to the Copper Kettle tea room. There had been a rumour going around that some fresh pasties had been smuggled over the border from Cornwall and we had to investigate the truth of that. The quay was beginning to empty out now as people started to make their way home. Many with excited children, waiting for the time when, in the dead of night, a certain portly, white whiskered man with a BMI in excess of 30 would come along with his sleigh and deposit presents, drink a drop of the hard (or soft) stuff and the occasional mince pie or two.

Luckily the paths had been salted, so we weren’t slipping about all over the place as we walked to the tea room. It was warm and inviting in there and although downstairs was almost full of customers still; upstairs was more or less empty. We sat in the corner by the window overlooking the quay and ordered hot drinks and pasties; reputed to keep a large, grown man full up for several hours after eating one.

The drinks came and then the humongous pasties. They were every bit as good as I had been told and I enjoyed every last bit. Feeling pretty stuffed, I sat back and just listened while the others talked about things.

‘...so I said to Mummy, why is it that we don’t give the moles any Chrimbo pressies and she hit the roof. You know what she’s like about those moles. She shoots them, or tries to anyway, with her shotgun and never hits anything. She doesn’t know that Jenkins, our butler, doctored the sights and that she has no chance of even hitting a barn door with it.’

‘What’s Lady F got against moles?’ I asked.

‘They mess up the lawn – holes everywhere. I swear that they know it’s safe in our gardens, even when they are being shot at. We have a Labradoodle called Fifi and Mummy has been trying to get her to be a sort of mole catcher, but the silly dog has no idea and keeps running away from any she sees. She’s a bit of a wimp really; mummy despairs of her.’

We all laughed and talked of other things. The girls were all looking forward to Christmas Day when, as I had already been told, we would all be at The Big House, as Sarah called it, for Christmas dinner.

‘Lady F does fantastic nosh,’ said Jen enthusiastically.

‘Does she cook it then?’ I asked.

They all looked at each other and within moments, they were rolling about with laughter.

Not being in on the joke, I wondered what was so funny, then it came out that Lady F would never get her hands soiled with menial labour and had a large staff. 'She has a Gordon Blue chef,' said Pippa.

‘That’s cordon bleu, silly,’ said Jen in a superior manner.

‘Whatever, she’s couldn’t boil an egg,’ said Pippa.

‘That’s where you are wrong,’ said Sarah, ‘she was a girl guide and is the local county commissioner. She knows how to do campsite cooking and is rather good, although she would never cook at home. By the way, she wants us all to join the new troop.’

‘Why?’ asked Hannah.

‘Well, the existing troop is full and has a waiting list and there are enough girls on the list to make a new one. Abby and Samantha will be the new leaders. Anyway, be warned, Mummy will bend your ears to join and you know how persuasive she can be. ‘All gels should be guides. Gives ‘em backbone and teaches ‘em to be strong and tough and not wimps. In my day, us gels in the guides used to do 10 mile hikes in the poorin’ rain, carryin’ one hundred pound rucksacks ; those were the days...’

We all giggled, it was as if Lady F was in the room!

Amy sighed.

‘Another uniform to wear; it’s bad enough having to put on a school uniform. Skirts in this weather, I ask you!’

‘Have you seen the new guide uniform?’ said Hannah, ‘Bridget is a guide in the old troop. She says that it’s awful, been designed by a five year old and has a tacky skirt too.’

‘Yea, but you can wear legging or jeans.’ said Pippa.

‘That’s something,’ replied Amy.

‘I never got the chance to wear a skirt when everyone thought I was a boy.’ I said casually, without thinking.

Then I realised that it had gone very quiet and everyone was looking at me.

‘Oh God!’ I shouted and then looked at their puzzled faces. I immediately burst into tears and ran to the ladies toilet, which was half way down the stairs leading to the main tea room.

I locked myself in a cubicle and held my head in my hands in despair.

What had I done? My secret was out now and everyone knew what I was; a freak.

For all the years that I could remember, I had hidden the secret that I was really a girl and that was the safe way to go for me. I couldn’t be hurt by it because it was a secret that only I knew. I had heard many stories about tranny kids being ridiculed, beaten up and in a few cases, forced to suicide when it got out that they were different.

Yes, I could be hurt in other ways, like the lack of love, of not fitting in and being considered as a trouble maker; but to me, being a girl with boy bits was a biggy and not to be disclosed to anyone. Then, when I had felt vulnerable, I had told Jo and she was cool with it; but I couldn’t expect such acceptance from others. I had, I thought, found some friends that would like and accept me as a girl and in a few short, stupid words, I had spoiled everything.

I couldn’t imagine anyone else to be the same as Jo and be so accepting. Her job as a vicar’s wife was to helpful, friendly and non-judgemental, but I couldn’t expect kids of my age to be the same.

I sobbed into my hands. I didn’t know what to do. If The Gang hadn’t have left the tea shop in disgust, they would be up there now, talking about me and saying nasty things. If I stayed in the toilet until the place closed, then maybe I could make my way up to my mum’s place and I would beg her to take me in...

There was a knock on the door.

‘Katie, are you there?’

‘Go away Sarah.’

‘Don’t be silly...’

‘I am not being silly. You know my secret now...’

‘What, that you are a tranny?’

‘Yea; had a good laugh at my expense have you? Fancy a boy wanting to dress up as a girl. Is he really a queer? Not good enough to be a boy, Sick in the head? I can hear you saying all those things about me...’

‘You must have good hearing then.’

‘Don’t try to be funny. I’m not laughing.’

‘I’m not laughing either. Will you come out here so that I can talk to you?’

‘Why; so that you can have a go at me?’

‘NO, so that I can explain what’s going on.’

‘I know what’s going on.’

‘No you don’t clever clogs. You know nothing and you won’t know anything unless you come out now.’

‘I’m staying here ‘til you go.’

There was silence for a moment.

‘I didn’t think that you were a coward Katie.’

‘I’m not!’

‘Come out then. I promise that I won’t laugh or be judgemental. I couldn’t care less what sex you are. You are Katie and I like you and so do the others.’

‘You are just saying that to get me out. I knew many people in the past that made me all sorts of promises, only for them to go back on them.’

I could clearly hear the stamp of a foot in temper.

‘Right!’ she shouted.

There was a scramble of feet and then Sarah’s head came over the door and looked down at me. It was a good job that I was not sitting down with my panties around my knees...

‘Listen,’ she said with gritted death, ‘If you don’t come out, I’ll call the manageress and she’ll get you out. I promise that we like you and don’t care about your gender. We have good reasons why...’

‘I don’t believe you...’

‘God, you are a pain in the neck and talking of that, my neck is hurting. Four words; I am transgendered too!’

I looked at her. She was obviously lying and it was some sort of trick.

‘Don’t believe me?’

I shook my head; she was obviously one hundred percent girl.

‘I can’t stay like this. I’ll go and get Pippa and Jen. Their dad is a vicar and they can’t lie, they would go to hell or something.’

Her head disappeared from above the cubicle door and then went over to the toilet door, opened it and then slammed it closed.

I waited a few moments and then decided that I couldn’t stay there and be humiliated. I opened the cubicle door and then went out of the toilet turning left and going downstairs away from the girls who were probably still laughing at me.

I didn’t look left or right as I went past the tables where people were sitting and out into the cold night air. I didn’t have my coat, scarf or hat, they were all upstairs and I wasn’t going to go back for them under any circumstances. I would have to walk fast to stay warm. I knew where I would have to go.

I went as fast as I could with the snow now coming down a bit harder and the roads being a bit icier, despite the gritting. The snow was falling quite heavily and it stung my cheeks and hands. I wished that I had my beanie hat, coat and other things but I would just have to manage somehow...

This was the third time I had been up that road and I was getting colder and colder. I wasn’t in the best of condition and was puffing a bit as I reached The Seashells, opened the gate and made my way up the path, which had nearly disappeared under the white snow.

Knocking on the door, I stood there shivering and willing for the door to be opened and for me to be able to fall into my mum’s open arms.

I knocked again and again, but there was no answer. I sobbed as I sat down on the cold doorstep; the snow falling harder and me not knowing what to do.

I was getting colder and colder but somehow I didn’t care. I was tired of running and tired of things going badly wrong for me. I had thought that Penmarris might be the place for me to finally get some roots down, but now it had all turned into a nightmare.

My teeth began to chatter but despite the biting cold, I was getting sleepy for some reason and I let myself fall back slightly and rest my head on the snow. It was funny it felt more like a pillow than something very cold.

In the far recesses of my brain, I knew that I shouldn’t go to sleep, but suddenly, I was so tired...

I had no idea how long I had been there, but in the far recesses of my mind I heard the sound of a car, but couldn’t lift my head to see who it might be. It was getting rather comfortable where I was and I just couldn’t be bothered.

There was a slamming of car doors and muffled steps but I was finding it hard to prise my eyelids open and it was all too much of an effort to do anything but just lie there and go to sleep.

‘Oh my God!’ said a voice that I vaguely recognised as my mum.

‘Lift her up. Get her inside, quick before she freezes to death.’ said another, unknown voice.

Everything was in slow motion. I vaguely recognised two of the voices but not the other one. I found myself being carried inside and I cried as everything felt so hot and painful; my feet, hands and face in particular.

Before I knew it, I found myself on a comfy sofa, wrapped in a blanket and with a mug of hot tea nestled in my shaking hands.

‘Oh Katie,’ said Jocasta, ‘you had us worried.’

‘Yes Katie, that was a bit dramatic,’ said the other lady who I noticed was sitting opposite me, now that I was a bit more aware of my surroundings.

‘I’m Abby, by the way. You have met my partner, Samantha and Hannah and Amy you know, of course.’

I smiled weakly and then looked around for my mum, but she wasn’t in the room.

‘She's gone upstairs and will be down soon,’ said Abby, ‘Now, it appears that you threw a wobbly down at The Copper Kettle because you let slip about your gender, is that right?’

I nodded.

‘And when you were told by Sarah that she understood because she was the same as you, you didn't believe her?’

Once again, I nodded, not wanting to say anything.

‘Sarah can be a bit silly at times and lets her mouth run amuck, but she doesn't lie though.’

‘You mean...?’

‘Yes, she is a girl, but used to be considered as a boy, although she never thought that she was anything but a girl; a bit like you?’

‘So she was telling the truth?’

‘Yes.’

Jo spoke up.

‘You don't know as much as you think you know about Penmarris, Katie. There are a number of people around here who are very similar to you. We don't judge and are very accepting; otherwise you just don't last very long in this village. We take as we see. If you thought that you were say, gay, lesbian, or bi-sexual, we wouldn't bat an eyelid. And that goes for transgendered boys and girls too. Our doctor knows how to help people like you and so do the schools and even the local social services. No, don't knock them; not all of council and government services are the same and in this area, they are very supportive. It does help that Dotty is on just about every committee imaginable and helps the cause as much as she can. After all, her adoptive daughter is in the same position as you.’

‘You would be surprised at who is transgendered around here…’ said Abby.

There was a knock at the door and I could hear steps in the hall. The front door opened and I could hear talking; but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

A few seconds later someone came in, but annoyingly not my mum. Was she still not interested in me?

‘Hi Marcia,’ said Jo, ‘here she is.’

The lady came over. She had a kind face, but was looking me over in a calculating manner.

‘Hello Katie, I’m a doctor. I understand that you have had a few problems and got caught out in the cold?’

I nodded

I was warming up, but was still shivering a bit under the blanket where my clothes were still quite wet.

‘Abby, Jo, I need to examine her; can we have a few minutes? Looking at how damp she is, I think that we need to get her a change of clothes and maybe a hot bath. Can you ask erm, Mrs Stevens if she has anything for Katie to wear?’

‘So, she still insists on being called Mrs Stevens?’ I thought dejectedly, ‘what is going on? I want my mum!’

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Please leave comments and kudo thingies...thanks! ~Sue