Heir to a Title, Chapter 21

After getting dressed, the friends skipped down stairs for lunch only to find the morning room full of guests. Molly was playing ‘mine hostess’ while, unusually, Callie’s mother Ellie had taken a day off. They had been discussing Callie and Maggie’s exposure to the media.

Somebody from the media team had recognised Callie, and remembered her exploits in rescuing the little girl from the weir at Windsor. Ellie had been laying out some ground rules to protect her daughter from any media circus surrounding her transgenderism. As Callie recognised there was ‘some sort of issue’ the cheerful smile faded from her face.

“Hello Mummy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing darling, just laying down the ground rules to protect you from the press.”

Maggie looked slightly puzzled because she had been expecting a celebratory reception but the mood in the morning room obviously harbinged something less welcome. She turned to her mother with a questioning expression as her cheerful countenance also clouded to match Callie’s. Callie turned apologetically to Maggie then explained briefly: “There was an incident at school last term. A little girl was drowning in the flooded river and I was photographed rescuing her. Everybody recognised my female underwear and the media had a tranny feeding-frenzy.”

She turned to her mother as she spoke and Ellie nodded confirmation before adding: “There will be the footage of you doing the camera placement in the tree and a full interview but there’s to be no reference to Callie’s transgenderism.”

Maggie was a little perplexed by this until Callie explained further: “If they’re allowed to ask questions about my transgenderism, the whole thing will turn into a sensationalised story about my transgenderism and nothing about getting the camera located in the den. It would immediately turn a good nature programme into a flipping media circus. It’d be ‘tranny’ this or transsexual that. Believe me Maggie, I’ve been there; mum’s right.”

The media team fell guiltily silent as they recognised the weary resignation if the young girl’s voice. It was a premature cynicism born of intensive media abuse and invasion by their own colleagues in the gutter press.

Several were privately asking themselves: ‘Is this what we do to transgender kids to make them this cynical and defensive so early in their lives?’

Ellie recognised the sobering mood and smiled towards Jane Arnold to confirm agreement before moving to lighten the depressive atmosphere.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, now we’ve established the boundaries for interviewing Callie, shall we finish lunch then interview the girls formally.”

“Shall we do it in here or by the tree in the woods?” the chief presenter asked.

Ellie turned to the girls with a quizzical eyebrow.

“Well girls, where would you prefer?”

“We could do it in two places or even three or four.” Maggie suggested. “You know; some chatting while riding to the marten’s den on the horses, next we could do some questions at the tree, then insert the night-time videos that we’ve already got and finally conclude the interview back here at the house.”

The producer stared at Maggie with slack-jawed appreciation.

“Why that’s excellent young lady; very creative thinking.”

He turned hopefully to the camera crew.

“Could we squeeze that much in.? I know it’s a bit short notice for lugging your kit around.”

The camera crews exchanged looks then turned to Callie.

“If we can borrow those horses we had the other day. They were very well trained. They would ease the load.”

“We should be able to.”

“I’m not a very good rider,” the presenter apologised.

“You can borrow Sandie.” Callie offered generously. “He’s my horse but he’s very well behaved. I’ll ride Rocket. He’s a gelding but still a bit of a chancer. It’ll be a bit lively but ‘heigh-ho’; if I’m suddenly taken away by Rocket getting startled, it’ll add some interest to the proceedings. Sandie will keep the mares well behaved.”

None of the camera crew or Maggie enlightened the presenter as to Sandie being a stallion. He was nervous enough as it was. The director accepted the plans and turned gratefully to Maggie.

“Thanks for that idea Maggie. It gives us excellent scope to expand the story with the locations driving the interview content. How does everybody feel about young Margaret’s suggestions?”

A mood of consensus prevailed and preparations were swiftly completed. The weather even played its part by first being sunny during the critical outdoor shots; then the rain arrived when they rode back to the house. As they arrived home, a loud crash of thunder accompanied their final steps and Rocket reared up in fright. Callie was hard put to calm him down and the camera crew got some excellent shots of Callie’s horsemanship as the gelding reared and pranced several times before calming down.

David, the famous presenter, swallowed nervously as Callie finally eased Rocket back into the group and they entered the stable yard. Once they had dismounted the presenter sighed with relief.

“I’m glad I had this horse, she’s very well behaved.”

The camera crew could not suppress their chuckles as Maggie enlightened him.

“She’s a he, David. Sandie’s a full entire stallion, have a look.”

The presenter’s eyes widened with surprise and shock as he recognised the obvious masculinity.

“Bloody hell! Isn’t it dangerous having a stallion amongst all these mares?”

“Well you rode him alright,” Callie grinned. “Did he behave well enough for you?”

“Well – yes; I must confess. He was a perfect gentleman. It’s just I always thought, you know, stallions are dangerous.”

“Not Sandie, sir.” Callie reassured him. “I’ve had him since a newborn foal and he’s been reared and trained with love and tenderness. He’s pretty obedient even when there’s a mare in season amongst the party. He’s well known throughout the county and is often used at stud to breed foals with a calm temperament.”

The presenter grinned knowingly.

“So he’s not suffering from any frustrations then.”

Callie wagged her head emphatically.

“No. I have a strict rule. If anybody wants his services, their mare must be put to run free in the big paddock. I don’t tie the mare in a loose-box and make Sandie mount them. That’s tantamount to equine rape. If the pair is free to run and test each other, it’s a far more satisfactory outcome and conception is far less traumatic.”

“Doesn’t he get, you know- possessive and defensive?” David wondered.

Callie shrugged her shoulders.

“No, not so far, he still comes to my call. It might change a bit when he gets more mature but so far, he’s always been the perfect gent.”

By this time the whole interview team were back in the house enjoying tea and scones. For the media team the whole day was a complete success and the interview material was to be used as a precursor for the first half hour programme about the martens. A week later as they savoured their idyllic summer vacation, both girls were invited with their mothers to preview the programme.

After sitting through the viewing, the producer took them to the studio canteen.

“So what d’ you think?” he asked Callie.

“The colours show up well. I didn’t realise the deciduous woods could look so green.”

The producer grimaced slightly.

“I meant the content, all about the martens and your part in placing the all important den camera. No mention at all of your transgenderism.”

“Precisely,” Ellie interjected, “that’s exactly as I wanted it.”

“Are you happy for it to go out, as it is? If you are, can you please sign the forms?”

Ellie read through the contract for one last, final time then set her signature on Callie’s behalf. Callie read it as well and asked about a couple of words and phrases.

“Does this mean you’ll be more-or-less occupying the hide until they leave the den?”

“Just about; the naturalists tell us they’ll probably be moving on in a month or two. Nobody’s exactly sure how long the kits hang around, but they’ll need to develop hunting skills and that’ll probably take them until late autumn or even next spring. Nobody’s certain when marten kits finally make the break. It probably depends on the food supply and weather.”

Callie fell silent she felt all her questions were answered, but Maggie raised a difficult point.

“What happens if – or, more likely, when people recognise Callie as the person who rescued the little girl?”

“There’s not a lot we can do about that. But anybody trying to enter the Denton Estate uninvited will be guilty of trespass if they cause Callie any problems. Any stress or distress can be legally construed as damage. We cannot do anything about the public rights of way through the woodlands but fortunately the marten’s den is well away from any footpaths. As to the paparazzi trying to invade your privacy on the estate, you’ll have the full protection of the law.”

With Maggie’s question answered, the conversation turned to pine martens and filming wild-life. By two p.m. the meal was finished and mothers and daughters left for a shopping trip in Leeds. Maggie and Callie savoured the cheques they had received and after cashing them they were soon launching themselves into the shops and boutiques of Leeds. They arrived home that evening replete with shopping trophies and a few presents for their families.

~~oo000oo~~

The filming of the pine martens continued with considerable success and Callie ended up making many friends amongst the various naturalist societies who showed interest. Jack Tyler, the Dales hiker, especially became a firm friend after realising that Callie was a determined preservationist. This was demonstrated when Callie attended her first planning investigation concerning the re-opening of the old quarry at Cragdale Bluff.

For the first time, Callie met the company directors who had already won the extraction licence from the government. After their first encounter, she realised just how pushy and inconsiderate the corporate denizens in London and Leeds could be. This was compounded by the discovery that one of the senior proponents of the scheme shared the same surname as Callie. He was a small ferrety individual but what he lacked in stature and presence, he made up for in aggression and persistence.

He had done background checks on all the members of the preservation society for his usual negotiating technique was to try and find some weakness in each of the ‘opposition’ as he tended to view them. Not for James Denton was the conciliatory, negotiated path to resolution an option. He sought to get his own way every time by hook or by crook.

As they adjourned for a morning coffee, the man intercepted Callie as she made for the lavatory.

“Are you the Denton boy; the heir to the dukedom?”

Callie paused and turned to face him. She had already summed him up during the meeting because Jack Tyler had pre-warned her about his devious ways.

“Yes. Are you the quarryman, come to dig in the dirt? Or is that dig up the dirt?”

“Oh very clever laddie, you don’t much resemble a lad, do you; in a dress and high heels?”

“I get by, and you don’t much resemble a man either with the countenance of a mustela.”

“Don’t be cheeky you little bastard!”

“You started it, oh – and I’m not a bastard. If I was, your brat would have maybe inherited my estate.”

“That issue’s not resolved yet, you’ve got to prove you’re a man.”

“Wrong again, Mr Denton,” (Callie emphasised the word ‘Mr’) “The rules on primogeniture changed with the royal accession of Prince William’s first child. Did you not read the royal proclamation? It applies to the nobility, as well as royalty.”

Callie had struck unerringly at James Denton’s weak spot. The director bitterly resented his grandfather having been the second child two generations back in the ducal line.

“Well that remains to be tested in law, and you’ve still got to find a woman who’s prepared to marry a freak not to mention bear it a child.”

Callie’s face turned white with anger but she managed to contain her rage. She span on her heel and left him standing outside the ladies’ lavatory. He was still there when she emerged several minutes later. As he sneered, she addressed him with all the aplomb she could muster.

“Do you usually hang around outside the ladies’ lavatories Mr Denton? You could get arrested if a lady complains.”

She spoke loudly for the benefit of several other directors who were just emerging from the gents’.

“We’ve got unfinished business,” he snapped angrily.

“Not here Mr Denton, not outside the ladies’ loos; best we discuss it in the conference room, after coffee.”

His face turned red with suppressed rage but he managed to contain his frustration.

As the afternoon session got underway, it became apparent to Callie and Ellie that James Denton was desperate to scotch Ellie’s proposal that the old railway bed be re-metalled. His stubborn opposition to the idea baffled Ellie and Callie picked up on her mother’s suspicion. When they broke for afternoon coffee, Callie motioned to her mum to find somewhere private. They left the conference room on the pretext of going to the lavatory and there found privacy.

“What’s up darling?” Ellie asked her daughter.

“You seem upset with the Ferret’s determination to build a road instead of the rail option.” Callie observed.

“Well aren’t you darling? You know what it will entail; loads of dust in summer or mud in winter, hundreds of trucks daily and all the incessant noise of trucks rumbling through the dale day and night. The rail option is much cheaper because they won’t have to widen the cutting through the bluff, they can re-utilise the old tunnel and it will only entail two or three trains a day each way. There will be far less noise and clamour with infinitely less traffic movements. What’s more, the villagers won’t have hundreds of trucks trundling all day and night through the village. I can’t understand why Ferrety Denton is dead set against it. Environmentally, the railway is by far the better option and cheaper too. All the cutting, tunnelling and grading has been done before when they opened the old quarry.”

Both mother and daughter were perplexed by the Ferret’s intransigence and returned to the table in a subdued mood born of puzzlement and consequent suspicions. Once again James Denton was holding forth about his ideas that trucks would provide for greater flexibility and faster responses to demand changes when the markets fluctuated. Ellie listened impatiently and found herself forced to intervene when she felt that one of her great uncle’s claims was just too preposterous to go unchallenged. She stated her belief but James Denton became even more belligerent. Ellie was baffled.

Callie on the other hand had studiously employed her computer skills to ‘bore-down’ into the internet information on transport companies. Using her mother’s business lap-top she was able to employ some of her mother’s business apps and licensed search engines to legitimately search deeper into the records at Company’s House. After ploughing through the mountains of names listed under ‘beneficial owners’, Callie eventually found a directorship belonging to James Denton Esq. Cautiously she cross-referenced the name with the Land Registry’s lists of registered land-owners in Scarsdale and she quickly established that her great, great uncle James (Ferrety) Denton owned a large fleet of trucks. Callie had considerable cause to be thankful for the apps that her mother Ellie used for business purposes every day on her laptop for it gave Callie loads of vital information.

By now, the fourteen-year-old Callie was well used to keeping a ‘poker face’ in the public arena. After briefly reading and confirming that it was definitely her great, great uncle, Callie cautiously slid the laptop under her mother’s nose.

Ellie frowned impatiently until Callie tapped the screen with her finger.

“What is it?” Ellie whispered somewhat annoyed at her daughter’s interruption.

“Look!” Callie whispered urgently. “The ferret; he owns a whole fleet of ‘rigids’. They are those four axled trucks that carry stone and minerals.”

“I know what a rigid is girl!” Her mother whispered back as she quickly grasped what Callie was driving at. “But my god; you’re dead right! And he’s the managing director of the conglomerate.”

It was obvious that Denton was poised to win the haulage contract for the limestone. It would be a lucrative contract for at least a decade or possibly longer.

Ellie was now stuck with a conundrum. Should she raise the issue now at the conference or later at the public inquiry where she could use the information to greater effect to alert the public? One of the biggest objections had been the environmental impact of the transport issues. If Callie could suddenly reveal the ferret’s pecuniary interest, it would invalidate his economic arguments which were at best specious anyway. Ellie thought it would be better to drop the bombshell at the public meeting where the press would quickly latch on to the issues and expose the deceptions. For once Ellie was glad of the press’s salacious hunger for any sort of a story and this one would be a doozy. She quickly whispered her thoughts to Callie and they turned to listen to the Ferret’s deceptive representations. By late afternoon, the meeting was adjourned in preparation for the public hearings listed for the first week in September. As they drove home, Callie busied herself with as many points as she could think of and by the time they arrived at the hall, she had a substantial list. Some points were palpably irrelevant whilst others were lethal ‘game-changers’.

When Ellie glanced through them after dinner she smiled inwardly at her daughter’s perspicacity and concluded: “Well, well little daughter of mine, remind me not to ever cross swords with you if you ever take up law.”

Smiling to herself, she annotated Callie’s list before turning in.

~~oo000oo~~

September arrived still warm and sunny and the first ‘Nature Watch’ programme had gone out on the BBC. The interview with the two girls had preceded the first footage of the marten kits and the programme had enjoyed spectacular ratings. So much so that Callie and Maggie had become minor celebrities.

The public inquiry into the quarry was commenced to the back-drop of the pine marten series and when news got out that the ‘Pine-marten-girl’ was attending the hearings, the paparazzi arrived in some numbers. Callie and Maggie discovered their path to the town hall blocked and the police found themselves unexpectedly having to clear the way. When they finally made the safety of the designated committee room they shook their heads in wonder. Moments later Ellie joined them and a harassed looking chairwoman finally stumbled into the room. She was followed by a progression of people representing various interested parties. Callie was glad to see Jack Tyler with a small entourage of environmentalists. Each group was shown to their designated sections around a large committee table and Callie sat behind her mother with Maggie beside her. The meeting was called to order and the Enquiry began.

Callie had expected the proceedings to be boring and dull but they proved to be lively as arguments and counter-arguments flowed around the room where different groups gave differing reasons and explanations concerning different issues. At the end of the week the chairwoman gave a brief summary of the salient issues then thanked everybody for their time and input.Outside the committee rooms that Friday lunch-time, Callie chatted with her mum, Jack Tyler and several of Jack’s scientific advisers.

“Well, I think we got the road plan scotched,” Jack sighed, “a bloody great two lane road winding over the dale would be a disaster. That info about the quarry director owning a trucking fleet certainly pricked up the chair’s interest.”

“You can thank my daughter for that,” Ellie declared. “She did the research into that and the viability of a railway.”

“Keen on trains are you young lady”

“She owns one,” Ellie grinned. “Currently, it’s a very popular unit on the North York Moors line.”

“Oh really!” Jack grinned. “What type?”

“She’s a Standard class four, two-six-four Tank.” Callie replied somewhat proudly.

“Oh that’ll be jolly useful then.”

“I don’t know,” Callie confessed. “I don’t see much of her. I don’t have much time what with the estate, the pine martens and school and everything.”

“Oh that’s a pity! Well I’ve got to go. We’ll get a copy of the decisions within a week, the chairwoman told me.”

Callie turned to her mum.

“D’you think the railway will win?”

“The economic arguments would support it darling but who can tell.”

Secretly, Ellie was confident the railway idea would succeed for she knew the chairwoman to be a paid-up member of the ‘East Lancs’ railway supporters' society. But the overriding argument was the economics. The old bridle-path would serve admirably for light vehicular traffic access to the quarry once it was metalled to withstand the light axle loadings of cars. A road to carry heavy trucks would have required concrete foundations and huge investment. Mile for mile, the railway was considerably cheaper and more energy efficient.

Ellie had also noted the sour suspicious look on the chairwoman’s face when James Denton’s trucking interests had been revealed. Throughout the Enquiry, the ferret had not endeared himself to the chair with his bombast and condescension. Despite her confidence, Ellie did not reveal her innermost thoughts and expectations to Callie. If the railway was quashed, Callie would be tremendously disappointed.

By the time a decision was reached about the quarry, its size and anticipated lifetime, the annual extraction quantities and finally the transport solution, Callie was back at school. She received a call on her mobile after divisions and before supper.

She picked it up as she sat at her study table.

“Hello mum.”

“Hi Callie, I called to tell you as soon as we heard the decision; the railway’s been accepted.”

“Oh good; is there any news on the martens? Are they still around the den?”

“Don’t you watch the nature programme?”

“I don’t have much time, besides it clashes with some sports programme or other, so the boys monopolise the T.V. “

“You don’t seem very excited by the railway news. Aren’t you interested anymore?” his mother wondered.

“Well yes I am mummy but down here it’s difficult to get so involved and anyway, I’m too busy studying. Just one thing; has the Denton Ferret lodged any objections?”

“Not so far.”

“Well I don’t trust him. I’ll bet he’s trying to find some way to scupper the railway even as we speak.”

~~oo000oo~~

It was Christmas when the ferret’s desperate efforts to block the railway emerged. Callie, now fourteen, had come down from Eton to celebrate Christmas at home in Yorkshire with her mother and grandmother. A long letter had arrived from the College of Heralds advising the family that Callie’s claim to the dukedom had been challenged on the basis of her gender identity and several other issues arising from the gender question. At first, Callie dismissed the ferret’s claim as frivolous and pestilent but when they went up to London to the Court of Heralds it appeared that the claim had to be taken seriously because ‘the ferret’ was a blood relative and first cousin to the old Duke, Callie’s grandfather. Ellie had invited Maggie and her mother Jane Arnold to accompany them to London to finish some Christmas shopping, thus killing two birds with one stone.

On the train the four chatted about the issues.

“My uncle’s just trying to pull a fast one,” Callie claimed as they journeyed down to the ancient assembly. ”There’s no question of my lineage, besides – I’m still legally male.”

“I think he’s more interested in your rights to inheritance of the Denton estate. If he can somehow get control of the land and the limestone underneath it, he would stand to gain everything,” Ellie opined as she studied the letter again.

Callie still felt that her uncle’s endeavours would come to nought and she boldly said so.

“Even under the new laws, I still keep the title and the estates. Anyway, I have not yet had SRS or applied for my gender recognition certificate and there’s nothing to say I will. I’ve donated my sperm to several sperm banks and provided I can find a willing partner who’s prepared to accept me as I am, then I can produce 'test-tube' heirs by in-vitro fertilisation.”

Ellie was not paying much attention as she studied the letter while Jane Arnold had gone to fetch some coffees, so even as she spoke, Callie felt a soft sensuous jab as Maggie ‘toe-poked' her shin under the railway carriage table. Callie turned with a questioning look at her friend who raised her eyebrows seductively as she canted her head to express her silent offer.

Callie’s eyes widened with surprised wonderment as she grasped the meaning of Maggie’s coquettish smile. She was about to blurt out, ‘What! You?’ but a second more forceful ‘jab’ by Maggie’s shoeless foot conveyed the need for secrecy. Callie’s jaw sagged in bewildered gratitude as she at last fully grasped Maggie’s meaning. Finally she recovered her composure and mouthed her silent question to remove all doubt. Maggie mouthed back a definite ‘yes’ and Callie’s heart flipped with surprised joy.

With that simple offer, Maggie had reduced one of the huge nagging doubts that attended Callie’s life, indeed the same nagging doubts that attended many transsexuals’ lives, namely marriage, children and a settled, lifetime companionship. Maggie’s expression however made it abundantly clear that she did not want to discuss such an intimate issue in front of ‘the olds’.

~~oo000oo~~