Heir to a title Chapter 23

When the heraldic case was finally resolved Callie returned home and prepared to return to school for the spring term. On the last day of the holidays she and Maggie travelled down by train to Kings Cross from York. They arrived in the early afternoon then crossed town together on the tube and finally separated at Paddington station. Callie was taking a local train to Eton whilst Maggie boarded another express to Cheltenham. Being as she had only a short journey to Eton, Callie waited for Maggie's train and they shared a sad moment embracing on the platform before the last call to board crackled invasively down the platform yet somehow managing to carry above the busy hubbub of station life. After they shared last one parting kiss, Callie watched wistfully as the train's engines started to whine powerfully and it glided smoothly away. Strangely Callie's last thought was how the the station announcer's voice had carried so effectively above the general massed babble of voices, collective rumbles of assorted engines and screeching squeals of wheels on tracks. Finally she gave a last lingering wave to the disappearing image of Maggie leaning from the carriage window and then she turned to continue her own journey.

By late afternoon, Callie was back in her study and almost as soon as she had put down her luggage, she showered then changed into a smart bandage dress and provocative, four-inch, platform heels. Finally, she touched up her make-up then resumed unpacking. She was just extracting her favourite lingerie set when Michael came tapping on the door.

“Come in,” Callie called as she folded the lingerie into the deepest, lower drawer she had set aside specifically for her female personality.

Michael entered and stopped to stare at his friend.

“Wow! Look at you! - and look at that lingerie!”

He gaped firstly at Callie's slender figure then at her pretty possessions before producing a copy of the London Gazette. This action endeared Callie to her gay friend. He had never once acted untowardly to her. She remained standing by her clothes drawers with the panties in her hand as Michael produced the pertinent article from the London Gazette.

“What have you been up to Callie?” He asked, pointing to an article describing Callie's heraldic battle and the outcome.

“What? Oh that, yes; I have a great uncle who's a bit of a tosser. He tried to challenge my title on the basis of my transgenderism but he failed.”

“So what's this Heraldic court business? Where they all wearing tabbards with coats of arms and stuff?”

Callie grinned for she knew Michael was Joking.

“No they were wearing coronets and ermine robes.”

Michael's jaw sagged, “really?”

“No you bloody fool. It's not like Alice in Wonderland you twit!”

“Bastard!” Michael laughed as he realised he'd been had.

Callie nodded and explained as she was picking out another very provocative pair of panties from her case.

“Nah, they were wearing suits like any city office worker. Even the dames wore twin-sets. I wore these though.”

She held up a bright red, deliciously frothy creation and smiled. Michael grinned lasciviously

“God! I hope you didn't flash those!”

“Well my dress was quite short but I behaved with decorum.”

Callie stood up, took the dress from her wardrobe and held it against her slender form.

“This was the dress I actually wore, the men seemed to like it - not sure about the ladies though but they were in the minority.”

Michael gaped and wagged his head disbelievingly. “You slag!” He roared with laughter. “You must hate returning to school and having to wear male morning dress after holidaying in that.”

“Don't be daft, I don't holiday all the time in this outfit, most of the time I get by in jeans and tee-shirts. Now just let me put a bit of 'slap' on and then we can go down for tea, I'll finish packing later.”
Michael nodded and Callie dipped into her make-up box. With youth on her side, a bit of lippy plus a dash of eye-shadow and mascara soon completed a perfect face. Michael's grin widened as she turned for his opinion.

“Well; what d' you think? Shall we go down?”

“Jeeze Callie, with you looking like that, you'll drive the Pop crazy!. Come on, let's see if you can get away with it.”

“Well school doesn't start officially until tomorrow. This'll be my last chance till the weekend. I checked about wearing dresses last term with the master and the dame. “

“And?” Michael wondered.

“They just smiled and told me it was okay outside of official school hours but not to be too provocative.” Callie replied.

“We-ell, I suppose it's not too provocative. Well, not by your standards anyway. The master might have other ideas. You've got stunning legs though. We're going to have to be careful. How the hell d' you walk in those shoes?”

Callie strutted out into the corridor and swayed her hips provocatively before pausing at the top of the stairs.

“They're strictly 'car-to-bar', foot jewellery Mickey so you might have to give me your arm on the stairs. Come on.”

They descended into the common room and the buzz of conversation died instantly. Heads turned and stared until finally an older boy remarked.

“Bloody hell; Michael Foster! Well you're a dark horse and no mistake. So who's this stunning lady? I thought you were gay!”

“I am gay,” Michael replied boldly, “so what d' you think of my friend?”

Another boy grinned at Callie hopefully,“If Michael doesn't need you darling, please give me your telephone number.”

Callie recognised the boy as one of her classmates and she decided to have a bit of fun.

“You couldn't afford me darling!” She riposted with a smile before adding. “Besides, I think you've already got my number.”

The boy frowned uncertainly so Callie took her mobile from her clutch bag and dialled while the others watched curiously.

The boy felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket and he took it out. As he recognised the number he announced to the gathering.

“Oh it's only Callum. I thought he'd have been back by now.” He answered the call. “Hey, Callum, your crony's brought this stunning girl to school, you aught to see her!

Callie spoke softly into her mobile.

“I am back silly. Who do you think the hot babe is?”

The boy looked up then stared momentarily at his phone again, then gaped with disbelief before speaking into his phone with confused incomprehension.

“What! You! The babe in the 'fanny-pelmet' dress and 'fuck-me' heels”

“The very same darling. But you ain't gonna' fuck me okay!”

He stared again at Callie as his shocked expression changed to a huge grin and the other boys quickly caught on. Instantly the mood in the common room changed to one of wonderment as they found their voices again. Finally the senior Pop spoke.

“Have you transitioned already then Callum?”

“No, I just felt like going en-femme before the the school uniform rules kicked in at midnight. What d' you think? Oh, and it's Callie when I'm en-femme.”

The Pop wagged his head.

“I'm not sure what to think. But we'd better warn the rest of the Pop. Jeeze Callie you're jail-bait with a capital Jay.”

“My sister would be jealous as hell if she met you.” Another Pop declared.

With that dinner was announced and the boys filed into the school house dining hall.

During the meal a plot was hatched amongst the kings scholars to wind up the oppidans and Callie posed for a photograph that was quickly texted around the school. They tried to keep the 'girl's' identity a secret but Callie's gender issues were too well known. The following morning that single picture was being shared avidly on mobiles throughout the whole school but particularly amongst the Pop. All through the day, even while she was wearing the school uniform, Callie was approached by the senior boys and to her delight, nearly all of them congratulated her. That evening the house-master got wind of the story and approached Callie during library time.

“Is this truly your picture Denton? I realised now that I saw you in the dining hall last night but I didn't recognise you.”

“Yes-sir.”

“Quite remarkable young man – or should I call you lady?” The master smiled.

“Well it's 'boy' when I'm in school uniform sir, but if I go out during a weekend break, I prefer to be called miss.”

“Well I must admire your courage, have you had any trouble in the school – from the boys that is?”

“Almost none sir and the boy that didn't congratulate me was at least not aggressive, he was more curious than anything.”

“Well I'm pleased to hear that. It seems to show that the school's policy is working. All I have to say is be careful when you're out of school during Sundays.”

“I always go out in company sir – usually with Michael or sometimes with the senior girls.”

“Yes, their house-mistress tells me she's seen you out with them, and they're okay with you are they?”

Callie blushed as she was forced to confess.

“Yes-sir, it was they that asked me to accompany them. We even swap make-up tips. They're good company.”

The house- master wagged his head and chuckled.

“Better company than the boys I'll be bound – for you that is.”

Callie was secretly impressed and elated for it seemed the house-master had evidently done his homework. He had obviously learned the difference between sexuality, gender and all the conditions in-between. More importantly he must have been observing both Callum the boy and Callie the girl to have realised that Callie preferred girls both as friends and probable partners. She smiled her brightest smile.

“Uuhm. Yes-sir, usually. And thank you for understanding.”

The master nodded slowly, glad that he had learned enough about transgenderism to make the child feel comfortable and safe. He finished the conversation by admitting. -

“Well it's been a learning curve for we masters as well Callum and I'm glad it seems to be working out. You know the house staff are always on hand if you need advice or help. Take care.”

The house master left and almost Immediately, Michael joined Callie.

“Was he okay about the picture?”

“Yes,” Callie replied, “he was just checking to see that I wasn't getting any flack. He's been really good about everything.”

“God you're so lucky, my parents would go ballistic if they found out about me being gay.”

Callie nodded sympathetically. It was hard if your family didn't approve. Michael continued.

“My mum's coming up next weekend to visit friends in Ascot. No doubt she'll be visiting me in my study. If it's Sunday please be discreet.”

Callie nodded and squeezed Michael's hand to reassure him.

“I'll make it my business to be out with the girls in town or visiting them at their dormitory house.”

She was slightly surprised to see a tiny tear of -what she presumed to be relief or gratitude – escape form Michael's eye.

Sunday duly arrived and Michael's mother surprised everybody by turning up unexpectedly early. So early that the boys had only just emerged from breakfast and were generally milling around in the common area as they were organising their various weekend plans. Callie was casually chatting to Michael and a couple of the Pop before she intended crossing the Yard and walking up the lane to the girl's house before Michael's mother showed up. Michael's mother had caught them all by surprise.

Callie had arranged with the girls to take the train into London and everybody had organised day passes with their respective house-masters. They had arranged to visit the V&A museum and the National gallery then meet the pop* for tea before returning to Eton by seven. That morning the boys were chatting outside the dining hall and the pop had just complimented Callie on her appearance. This had pleased her immensely and by way of thanks she had just pecked them on the cheeks. Michael was grinning expectantly for his kiss and Callie smiled before duly delivering a kiss with a friendly embrace. She was still hugging Michael when she saw his grin fall from his face as he went white with fear.

“What's wrong?” She asked as Michael tensed nervously.

“It's my mother! I wasn't expecting her this early. Oh my God! She's here already! Look, she's by the door talking to the dame.”

“Callie stepped back and turned to look even as Michael's mother spotted them and approached with a smile of delight.”

In their surprise Callie had not noticed that she had left a red lip-stick mark on Michael's cheek so when his mother approached she assumed that her son Michael had found a girlfriend. She smiled and asked eagerly.

“Why Michael Foster! My darling; have you been keeping a secret from me. Who's this delightful young lady?”

Michael stuttered nervously.

“She, - she's just a friend mummy.”

“A very close friend I see; I presume that's her lipstick on your cheek.”

“Wha-!” Michael's eyes showed fear but Callie instantly recovered her composure.

She took a 'wet-wipe' from her bag and prepared to clean the bright red mark. She smiled a shy smile as she spoke to Michael with the wet-wipe poised in her hand

“Sorry darling, let me clean it.”

Quickly the lip-stick mark disappeared and Michael felt his cheek self consciously as his mother continued with her presumption.

“Well, well you're a dark horse darling. You've been keeping her a secret have you.”

“It's not like that mummy.” Michael tried to protest but there was no deflecting his mother from her assumption.

“Well that kiss tells me otherwise,” she turned to Callie, “so who are you young lady, and how long have you known my son?”

“I'm Callie Denton ma-am. And I've known Michael for over a week.”

This was not technically a lie, for Callie had known Michael nearly one and a half school years.”

“So I assume he's invited you to join us for the day.” His mother suggested hopefully.

“Oh sorry ma-am, not exactly, I was just returning some notes, he was very kind enough to lend them to me and I had kissed him to say thank you. We are good friends though and we share some classes. I'm going up to town later to visit the museums with some of the other girls. It's all been pre-arranged. I can't renege on the arrangements now. I hope Michael and you enjoy your day, I've got to go now, 'byee.”

As Callie sidled provocatively away she heard Michael's mother remark.

“She's a lovely girl; now that's the sort of thing your father and I have been hoping for. I see Eton has at last brought you out.”

Callie smiled to herself but she didn't hear Michael's reply for she was already crossing the College yard. Half an hour later, she was boarding the London train with her female friends and excitedly anticipating the museum visits. Like all girls out for the day however, she invariably succumbed to the shopping virus and returned happily to school by seven pm.

Shopping bags full of new clothes are rarely a burden to any girl and Callie eagerly returned to the college ready for her dinner. The click of her new high-heeled boots however, gave her away as she skipped happily up the stairs. She had just entered her study and was checking her face in the mirror when Michael's mother appeared in the doorway.

“Hello Callie, I'm surprised to see they allow girls in the boy's studies. Shouldn't you be up in your own study at the female house?”

Callie froze momentarily but then decided she was not going to try any subterfuge. Whatever issues Michael might have had with his parents were not going to interfere with her open school life. It was known everywhere throughout the school that she was a transgendered pupil and the school had behaved with exemplary correctness when she had won her scholarship. She turned and rested her bum against the washbasin as she replied quite openly.

“But this is my study Mrs Foster.”

“What! But Eton's a boy's school! How is it you're allowed here.”

Callie sighed then replied.

“Technically Ma-am, I am legally a boy, but I'm actually a transgendered girl.”

For several seconds the woman stared hard at Callie. Callie saw the distaste in the woman's eyes then she spoke.

“A boy! But, but you kissed my son – this morning.”

“Yes Ma-am, just as I kissed the two older boys – the Pop. I was thanking them for the notes I'd borrowed.”

“What,are you saying you've been copying notes and cheating?”

“No! Certainly not. Look here are the notes, or the next batch. We often annotate each other's work and comment on each other's thoughts. Here look.”

She handed Michael's mother the notes and having once been an English and history teacher, Mrs Foster's brief glance soon told her that they were of a high standard. She looked at another sheaf of notes and nodded towards them. Callie reached for the other notes and turned to pass them to the older woman while she was still standing in the doorway but Michael's mother stepped into Callie's study to examine the new notes. At that point Michael followed her in.

“Mummy you shouldn't be in here, this is Callie's private study space.”

“Never mind that young man, I'm just checking something.”

She studied a couple of loose pages then nodded with satisfaction.

“Hmm, well I can't fault the standard of work, it's very high for a fifteen-year-old. I must accept that you are right about your work standard young ma- what do I call you, - man or lady?”

Callie had dropped the 'Ma-am' and was speaking equal-to-equal now.

“You may call me lady, whilst I'm presenting as one. That's what the school has decided.”

“What!? And they allow people like you in here? - Dressed like that?”

The expression 'people-like-you' told Callie everything else about Michael's mother but she kept her cool and answered simply, “yes”.

Michael's mother dug herself into a deeper hole.

“Well I don't think it's right. I'll speak to the school immediately. It's wrong letting boys prance around in girls clothes.”

Callie's voice hardened as her anger threatened to burst through.

“Firstly Mrs Foster, I do not prance and secondly I must ask you to leave my study. Whatever arrangements the school has made to address my circumstances are no concerns of yours.”

Callie stepped forward and stood with her hand on the door-handle to offer the older woman the door. Michael's mother initially stood her ground until she saw the angry tear glisten in Callie's eye.

“I'm waiting Mrs Foster. Please don't force me to call the house-master or the dame.”

The woman realised she had somehow overstepped the mark and gathering as much dignity as she could, she stepped haughtily out of the room. Michael turned to Callie and gave her a resigned sigh as he followed his mother to his own study. He was so stressed out that he forgot to close his study door and seconds later Callie could not avoid overhearing the row as it echoed along the dormitory corridor. Michael's mother was about to fetch the house-master but the Pop emerged from his study to see what the commotion was about. He knocked on Michael's open door.

“Go away!” A woman's voice responded to the knock.

The pop hesitated then spoke through the open doorway.

“Mrs Foster, I must respectfully ask you to leave the dormitories. If you have any complaints, please address them to the house-master or the dame.”

Mrs Foster burst forth to shout in the pops face

“Don't worry boy! I am going to do exactly that!” She glared at Callie who was still standing in her own study doorway. “And that's the tart I'll be complaining about.”

The pop shrugged apologetically to Callie and escorted Mrs Foster down to the House-masters apartments.
When the pair entered the house-master immediately invited the house dame to attend the meeting as a chaperone. When she arrived the house-master then invited Mrs Foster to sit.

“Now Mrs Foster, I can see that you are obviously upset, please could you explain?”

The mother immediately launched into a tirade of abusive objections about allowing perverts to attend the school. Throughout the interlude, the house-master and the dame listened patiently until Michael's mother had exhausted her arsenal of objections. Then he explained patiently that the boy Callum was a transgendered individual and the school would be in breach of law if they expelled the child on the basis of his or her transgenderism.

“But surely, that doesn't give him - her - whatever, a licence to dress like some tart!”

“Well frankly Mrs Foster, when I saw her returning from the London train, she certainly didn't look like a tart. She was dressed just like any other modern girl and I know for a fact that they had been to the National Gallery and The V&A because one of the school staff saw her and the other girls at both venues and indeed spoke to them.”

“But I saw her lingerie drawer, it was partly open. I mean frilly pants and stuff, surely not school uniform!”

“Indeed not Mrs Foster,” the Dame interjected, “but perfectly typical underwear for modern girls to wear when not in school. I believe she was wearing denim jeggings when she returned to school. That would be perfectly normal and respectable apparel for a girl to wear on a Sunday. Hardly dressed like a tart.”

“But it looked so common, I mean -”

I can assure you Mrs Foster, young Callum Denton could hardly be called common; either in manners or any other criterion. Indeed she will inherit her title of Duke of Denton on her eighteenth birthday!”

Michael's mother stopped dead in her tracks.

“Duke!?”

The dame nodded affirmation for she had easily read Mrs Foster for a bigoted snob. The master added reinforcement when he picked up on the same signal..

“Yes, Mrs Foster, Callum Denton is currently the Earl of Fotheringay and when he – or, if you prefer,- she reaches her or his majority, she or he will become the Duke of Denton. Callum Denton is certainly not some sort of common slag!”

The master had deliberately employed both genders of pronouns just to reinforce his statement.

“But – but, what about the other boys? Surely she's a – a- some sort of danger? I mean morally or even sexu ---.”

The house-master grimaced at the unfinished, distasteful innuendo.

“I can assure you Mrs Foster, Callum Denton is no risk to the other boys; indeed if there was any risk, the opposite would apply. Callum would be more likely to be at risk from any older boys. As a girl that is normally deemed the case. However, the situation is well controlled and monitored. So far none of the other boys, or their parents have complained.”

“But do any of the other parents know?”

The dame intervened.

“Do you read the papers Mrs Foster?”

“Of course I read the papers!”

“Well then you would have read last year how a young Eton Scholar saved a toddler from certain death during the winter floods. He plunged in and rescued the baby right at the very jaws of Windsor Lock control weir.”

“Yes, I remember it well, it was national news.”

“And it became national news because the boy was seen to be wearing a girl's bra under his – or more correctly - her shirt. The red-top scandal sheets had a field day.”

“Yes so what? - Oh! - I see, so that boy was him.”

“Yes Mrs Foster, that boy was Callum Denton; as brave a child as any parent could wish for. Every boy and girl in Eton College has huge affection and respect for him because his bravery is two fold.
Firstly :- his act of sheer bravery for risking his own life from certain death to rescue the toddler and,
Secondly :- the continuous daily courage he displays running the daily gauntlet of abuse surrounding his gender issues. Though I must point out that here in the college and in the town of Windsor, he is mostly feted by those who remember the incident.”

The master finally added

“Callum Denton is not the sort of Pupil that Eton would betray or fail. He is the sort of pupil we would welcome with open arms. He is courageous, honest and principled not to mention bright academically.
Now if you believe your son Michael is somehow at risk from Callum then there is little we can do if you decide to remove him, though I must declare here and now; your son is an excellent scholar and would benefit enormously from an education here. I for one would be very sorry to see Michael removed.”

Mrs Foster fell silent as she digested the rescue incident. She may have been a snob but she was quick-witted enough to know that she would do herself untold harm if she attacked the transgendered child hero. Carefully she 'back-tracked' while both the house master and the dame gave her ample room to manoeuvre. They were past masters at avoiding conflict and resolving disputes. The house-master made her an offer.

“If you wish Mrs Foster, I will ask any of the students – boys or girls - to talk to you about young Callum. I can confidently say that most of them will describe him with glowing references.”

“No. I don't think that will be necessary. I'll speak to my own son about it.”

The house-master felt he was on firmer ground.

“Very well, but I would like the dame to be present, as a witness you understand. We have to protect ourselves as well.”

“Will that really be necessary.”

“If I have to be blunt Mrs Foster then yes, I think it is.”

Reading between the lines, Michael's mother got the message and reluctantly she agreed. Michael was invited into the dame's apartment and his mother interrogated him. The dame's presence did exactly what the house-master had hoped. It emboldened Michael to reveal his homosexuality because his father was not present to abuse him while the dame's attendance inhibited his mother enough for the boy to get through an ordeal he had been dreading for several years.
“So there it is Mummy. I'm gay.”

Mrs Foster stood nonplussed but at least she showed no anger and Michael was eternally grateful for that. However, her silence became oppressive and he pressed nervously.

“Aren't you angry or disgusted?”
~~oo000oo~~