The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2955 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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Friday evening eventually arrived and Debbie came for dinner and then we did our sewing with Danni inviting Cindy to come as well. Of the others, only Trish opted to join us. She enjoys her sewing especially embroidery and is getting quite good at it. When Debbie saw what Trish was working on, she said she felt quite inadequate.

“Cathy, would you speak to a transgender group?”

“About what?” I asked feeling horrified.

“About having adopted tg kids.”

“I don’t know, I’d hate for any to be identified because of it.”

“We’ve got a joint tg and Mermaid’s meeting and the speaker has gone down with some sudden illness, I wondered if you could save the day?”

“I don’t know, it pushes my buttons somewhat and may remind people of my history.”

“You’d be amongst friends.”

“Many of whom have problems. If it got out that I was married to a wealthy family, it could get a bit rough given how many just manage to scrape by financially.”

“That’s not your fault, is it?”

“That wouldn’t matter. Years ago I was accused of being a gold-digger because I was marrying Simon, who comes from a wealthy family.”

“Yeah I know, the Camerons.”

“Didn’t you say the daughter who died was transgender?”

“Yes.”

“Could you talk about her, that would leave the others out of it.”

“It seems unfair to always dump all this sort of stuff on Billie, just because she’s dead.”

“Whatever is said can’t hurt her, can it?”

“No but I like to preserve the purity of her memory.”

“Surely there’s nothing to besmirch that anyway is there?”

“No but I like to talk of my daughter without being asked if she was a boy.”

“Can you think of anyone else who could talk to the group at such short notice?”

In my mind’s eye, I could see Billie who was smiling and nodding at me. “Okay, I’ll talk to your bloody group.”

“Wonderful, I’m sure they’ll all enjoy it.”

“Yeah, well, I need to jot a couple of things down on paper for tomorrow. Oh what sort of clothing do people wear to these things?”

“The TV/TS group is very variable and given that some of them have limited opportunity to dress, they often appear over the top. Don’t you remember that from your early days?”

“No, I never joined any groups, except cycling ones.”

“Oh, okay. So this could be educational for you then?”

“I doubt it, groups are groups it’s only the reason for membership that varies.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“If you want. I expect you’ll find someone interesting said it before I did.”

“Possibly, but for the moment I do at least know who said it to me.”

“Yeah but in fifty or sixty years when you come to write your memoirs you’ll have forgotten.”

“I doubt it. You’re the best boss I’ve ever had and also the most beautiful.” I felt myself blush very red, or it was considering the amount of heat I was giving off.

“Right, I don’t want anyone to know anything more than they have to, so don’t tell them I’m your boss.”

“How do I introduce you then? Lady Cameron, or Dr Watts?”

“Nah, they’ll think I’m a physician or psychiatrist.”

“Mrs Cameron?”

“Okay, but I suspect someone will recognise me.”

“So, you’re famous and had a trans kid, so what?”

“If their memory is good enough they may also remember my case in the news as well.”

“They should all be on your side anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

“I have been to one or two things like this before and I always upset somebody.”

“How? You’re one of the nicest people I know.”

“Not always.” I blushed again.

Over breakfast I mentioned that I was doing the talk and that I’d be talking about Billie. “You can talk about me if you want,” offered Danielle only keep off the soccer stuff.

“Or me,” said Trish.

“Me too,” said Sammi who was putting in a rare appearance at breakfast, even for a Saturday.

“Go on, do me as well,” said Julie.

“Me too,” said Livvie.

“Dummy, you’re not trans,” criticised Trish.

“How d’you know, I might want to be a boy for all you know, Miss Smartarse.”

“Yeah, well perhaps if you had to live as one for a bit you might appreciate my situation a bit better,” Trish threw back at her.

“Yeah, okay. Mummy, can I live as a boy...” I almost swooned at this before realising they were just teasing each other. Then she laughed and said, “I can tell what it’s like living with all these weirdos.”

“Huh, you’re as weird as any nutter I can think of,” Trish fired back.

I shouted at this point and the banter stopped.

The weather was warmer and surprisingly it was a bank holiday weekend, obviously, no one had told the weather as it usually manages to rain or blow or both. I opted to wear a dress, a short-sleeved one with a vee neck and slightly fuller skirt which came to just above my knee. It was a blue and white floral pattern, the flowers being only a few millimetres in diameter. I wore blue sandals with a two-inch wedge heel which I could stand or walk comfortably in.

Adding a simple bangle and my watch and a simple gold chain necklace I did a basic makeup and my hair was down. I usually wear it up or in a ponytail so hopefully wouldn’t be recognised by casual observers.

I took the Jaguar and hoped not too many people saw it. The venue—Henry’s new hotel on Hayling Island. As I’ve only been there once, I hoped I wouldn’t be recognised by staff there either—I suppose if I was. I was—not much I could do about it anyway.

I arrived at three o’clock and was met by Debbie. She was excited but also flustered, we’ve had a fourteen-year-old talk about being trans and her mother ended up on stage too.”

“So are you saying you don’t need me?”

“Not quite.”

“Anyone talked about having several trans kids?”

“You’d do that? What about the children, are they happy about it?”

“Amazingly, yes. They volunteered I could talk about them but obviously, I shall have to try and maintain some privacy, so will use different names.”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

I thought it had better be or I won’t be talking at all.

I had arrived in the middle of a tea break and Debbie went off and found me one and a chocolate biscuit. I hoped the sugar would give me a little extra energy although normally I feed off the energy of the audience when I’m lecturing, I assumed this would be similar, at least once I got going.

As I finished my tea and biccie, Debbie came to lead me to the stage they had at the back of the room. “Here we go, Cathy. I’m just going to introduce you as Cathy and tell them you’re going to talk about having more than one trans kid.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” I replied wondering if I was doing the wrong thing.