Heir to a Title 30.

Characters.
Ellie, (Eleanor) The prime Character.
Bill, (William) her father, (obviously) Callie (Callista) Ellie’s only daughter. Initially Callum - a transgendered son.
Charlotte, (Nana) Ellie’s Paternal Grandmother
Sandie, (Sandra) Ellie’s Older Aunt
Rosie, (Rose) Ellie’s Younger Aunt
Henry, Ellie’s boyfriend and husband. (Second son of the Duke of Denton)
Molly, Duchess of Denton. Henry’s mother.
Bev, (Beverly) Ellie’s aunt (Previously Uncle Bernard and brother to her dad.)
Jennifer, (Jennie) Beverly's older adopted daughter.
Beatrice, (Bea) Beverly's younger adopted daughter.

Lucy, Henry’s oldest niece, Callum’s cousin.
Eleanor, Henry’s middle niece Callum’s cousin. Same name as Ellie.
Virginia, Henry’s youngest niece Callum’s cousin
Julie, Ellie’s sister-in-law.
Angela, (Angie) Beverly’s wife (kidnapped by pirates and rescued.)
Megan, Beverly’s only blood daughter by Angela.
Margaret Arnold, (Maggie) Callie's best female friend.
Jane Arnold, Maggie's mother.
James Denton (The Ferrety Denton) Callie's ambitious, uncle.
Michael. Callie's best friend at Eton and Cambridge

That evening Callie joined Michael at the weekly LGBT get-together in anticipation of some pleasant social intercourse. They met outside Michael's residential block and walked a couple of blocks into town until they came to the pub where the meetings were held.

Inside, the society's secretary was handing out hurriedly prepared, typed slips concerning an item that had been suggested as a topic for debate in the union. The secretary had spotted a notice on the large public notice board, copied it down and acted upon it that same afternoon. Michael and Callie took the proffered slips and studied them as they took their seats. After the planned agenda had been discussed and dealt with, the secretary held up the slip.

“Well members, you've seen my copy of the notice that was posted, do you want to discuss it now or next week?”

For several moments the meeting descended into chaos as members fell to discussing the slip amongst themselves. Eventually the meeting was brought to order as the secretary regained control. Her words simply stated the obvious.

“Well, I can see that lots of you are concerned. Now I've finally got some control, I'll go through the membership list and ask each one if they wish to comment.”

So saying, the secretary started calling out names in alphabetical order. With a rider that if a previous member had touched upon any issues affecting other individuals, then those individuals should just confirm their support for that particular issue or the meeting would last all night. Eventually it was Callie's turn and she stood up.

“Callie Denton, Maths first year. Firstly, I agree and support the issues expressed by Andrew and Jenny but there are a further two issues that concerns me. The first is the obvious transgender issue surrounding my condition and the proposed segregated debate and the second is what college organisation is behind this? I don't see any names or identification.”

There was a rumble of approval as Callie sat down. The secretary held up her hand to suppress what seemed like another eruption of discord.

“Firstly it is lecture by a visiting scholar who has requested that the meeting be segregated so that some of the people attending will not be offended.”

“And those people are?!” A voice demanded from the anonymous centre of the room.

“Devout Muslims. apparently. They wish to hear what he has to say about modern conflicts between Koranic law and other cultures then discuss workable solutions to resolve such conflicts where and when they occur. To avoid effrontery he has requested, - requested mind you, - that the meeting be segregated into male and female. He has requested this only to avoid offence to devout Muslims. The lecture or talk, - call it what you will -, has been organised by several of the Islamic societies and it promises to be a lively debate.”

“You can bet your bottom dollar it will!” Came voice from the rear of the hall that Callie recognised as Billie the girl she had met on her first day at the clubs and societies fair..”

“I understand that Billie,” the secretary replied, “can I ask you to get the other tee-people to collectively prepare a list of objections?”

Callie had turned to see Billie standing up to emphasise her displeasure as she spoke.

“Best if we continue with tonight's strategy by going around the room as you are doing to list everybody's objections, once that's done we Tee-members can filter our specific objections and I can circulate the lists on the society's website. I'm more than prepared to head any LGBT campaign; does anybody wish to join me?”

Virtually every tee-person's hand went up and the secretary's head nodded slowly with satisfaction. She knew Billie of old as a hardened campaigner. With the strategy agreed, the secretary continued taking suggestions and objections. She soon had a score of objections and handed the list to Billie as the meeting wound up. Callie joined Billie and the other tee-people as they chose a different pub to further analyse the secretary's list. Before midnight, a concrete plan of action was maturing.

In the last few months a peculiarly unholy alliance had evolved between some extremist feminist societies and fundamentalist Islamic societies in the university especially around the issue of transgenderism. In several debates at the Cambridge debating union, some transphobic issues had unexpectedly popped up 'sub-agendii' and briefly involved some heated contention before the debating chairmen had recovered order in the chamber and returned the debate to pertinence.

These instances had not gone unnoticed by the LGBT., community who were concerned that such emerging levels of intolerance were becoming apparent. This focused on the old 'nature versus nurture' and assorted religious arguments amalgamating with the 'real-women' biological definitions advocated by feminists. If these and other arguments were gathering momentum in such a cerebral environment as Cambridge then they needed to be contested and defeated early before what few advances the LGBT community had won were reverted by default or inaction throughout the campus.

As she made her way home at midnight, Callie had lots of time to think and it was her deep thoughts that blinded her to the unexpected approach by some male ethnic students.

“Hello dear, you're out late.”

Callie looked up in mild surprise as she was dragged from her reverie.

“So are you if it comes to that!” She replied as she reached automatically for her rape alarm.

“D'you want to come to a party?”

“No!”

“Why not? We're students just like you.”

“No you're not, you're boys, I'm a girl. You're nothing like me. If you are then there's summat wrong with you.”

“Where's your boyfriend?”

“Where's yours?”

“There's no need to take that attitude.”

“I'm not taking any attitude. You said you were just like me so that makes you a girl and I'm only wondering where your boyfriend is.”

“You're a nasty bitch aren't you?” The talkative one retaliated as he moved forward menacingly. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Like all women, Callie was already fully alert to unwanted attention and she prepared to activate her alarm. Cautiously she brought her hand up to her face so that the alarm was at head level. If she had to use it, she could reach out and direct the alarm directly into his face. At that proximity, the screech of the alarm was almost painfully disabling especially when pointed directly at the assailants face or close to one of his ears. He advanced to push his face directly into Callie's face in typical gesture of dominance and threat. Callie took a small step back for the benefit of the street cameras to demonstrate that she had not made any aggressive move then let him have it by extending her arm and activating the alarm.

The screech actually hurt Callie's ears and she was expecting it, so it must have been excruciating for him. He staggered back in shock and bellowed with surprise as he pressed his hands against his ears. The sudden distraction also distracted the other boys and Callie quickly produced her back-up plan, a can of Mace. A brief squirt in the abusive one's face reinforced the fact that 'the lady was not 'up-for-it'.'

“Aargh! You fucking bitch!”

“I might be a bitch but I'm not up for a fucking! So fuck off!” She cursed whilst still holding up the Mace spray.

“I can't see!”

“Get your toadies to guide you to casualty.. And by the way that's indelible dye all over your face. So the authorities will be looking for you in the morning. Good fucking luck!”

So saying, Callie backed down the pavement even as lights were appearing in various hostel windows and female voices were calling down.

“Is everything okay down there.”

“It is now!” Callie shouted loudly. “The bastard tried to assault me and I maced him.”

The ensuing commotion left the male abusers stunned by developments. In their own country the assaulted woman would have been charged with prostitution for being out alone at so late an hour. Here, in Cambridge, the tables were completely reversed. They wanted to run but their blinded compatriot totally hampered their attempt to escape the scene. By the time Callie had reached the sanctuary of her hall of residence, a police car had accosted her abusers in the street. One of the female students in the same hall of residence had called them immediately after becoming aware of the disturbance.

Inside the hall, the alarm raiser met Callie at the bottom of the stairs.

“What happened?”

Callie described events and the other girl nodded with satisfaction.

“I didn't know you could get one with dye as well.”

Callie smiled and produced the can. It had hardly been used. The girl weighed it thoughtfully and noted the country of origin.

“Is this legal?”

“Dun'no,” Callie shrugged, “it's effective.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the heavy hall door and two police officers appeared. Callie turned to face them as the other girl stood beside her to provide moral support.

“Is that the can Miss?”

Callie nodded and passed it to the officer's outstretched hand. He examined it whilst his female companion spoke to Callie.

“Is there somewhere we can talk.?”

“My room,” Callie indicated up the stairs with a nod of her head.

As they approached the stairs Callie turned to the girl who had raised the alarm.

“Would you like to accompany me up to my room?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“I haven't been arrested, I don't see why not.”

The girl turned inquisitively to the police who shrugged acquiescence, Callie was not under arrest. All four went into Callie's study bed-room.

The upshot was that the police confiscated Callie's can of mace as evidence and also for the doctors in casualty to run checks on the chemicals. A phone-call to casualty had ascertained that the assailant's eyes were badly traumatised.

Two days later, on the Sunday morning, Callie received another pair of callers.

“You'll be interested to know young lady, that we've arrested your assailant.”

“Good! The bastard deserves it.”

“It's not just for the abuse he hurled at you. His DNA matches that of an assailant who has committed two other rapes in London; one of them involved a brutal beating. The 'Met' want him, or at least they want to interview him.”

Callie nodded with tight-lipped satisfaction.

“So you'll not be arresting me then?”

“Well no; but that can of spray you used, where did you get it?”

“On-line.”

“Which country?”

“Who knows? You know what the Internet's like.”

She reached to her laptop keyboard and tapped in an address Immediately the supplier's website appeared.

“There, that's it.”

The officer noted the website address on his phone before continuing.

“Have you got any more of those cans?”

“Yes, are they proscribed by law?” She asked.

“Not specifically but they might be considered to be dangerous weapons. We would advise you not to carry them around in public.”

“So how can I protect myself?”

Her question struck to the core of the issue and the police knew it. How could a woman protect herself when alone and confronted by uninvited, aggressive attention?

“Well you should avoid going out alone at night.”

Callie twisted her mouth with a caustic glare.

“Why, are the streets dangerous?”

“You know they are.”

“So why don't the police patrol them more intensively?”

“You know that as well, not enough resources.”

“Of course I do, so I am compelled to take reasonable steps to protect myself.”

“This argument could go on all day young lady, I am cautioning you not to carry that brand of mace around with you. Find out what is definitely legal and if you feel forced to carry a can, buy that.”

Callie gave a smile of apparent 'sweetness-and-light'. It didn't fool the police officer but he left it at that. His silence made Callie wonder if secretly he was sympathetic because her actions had led to the arrest of a serial rapist. She asked further about her attacker.

“I know he's an ethnic and he isn't black, so where's he from?”

The officer didn't answer her question and Callie sensed that there was a political angle to the case. She didn't press for an answer as the officer explained further.

“You'll be required to attend his trial as a witness and you'll probably find out then. Fortunately we've got a short bit of surveillance camera footage showing him and his friends turning into the same street as you. That white reflective jacket of yours was an excellent identity garment. But we didn't get the actual incident.”

“That's a pity. If he is found guilty of rape for the London attacks though, he'll be bound for prison I take it?”

“Hopefully, yes but there are complications.”

“You don't sound very confident.”

The officer's reluctance to explain further gave Callie pause for thought.

'There was definitely a political angle,' she concluded so she let the matter lie.

As the officer left with Callie's confiscated box of sprays she could distinctly sense his despondency. She felt sure there was some sort of political angle affecting the case. Having reached this conclusion she decided she would have to fight fire with fire A brief Email to her professor confirmed her agreement to assist the Cheltenham crew. Access to government information might help her her case.

The following Tuesday, by prearrangement on the Monday, she found herself invited into the professor's office to meet a representative of Her Majesty's Intelligence Forces. After introductions were made, he produced a sheet of mathematical problems.

“Would you be prepared to solve these problems and if possible create a functional algorithm that would simplify the functionality of the common denominator in all the problems.”

Callie extended her hand and started to study the paper.

“Am allowed a calculator?”

“Of course.”

She took her scientific calculator from her back-pack and set to work. Within two hours and after several mugs of coffee the produced her answers and several different but equally functional algorithms pertaining to the two most obvious common denominators. She munched on some biscuits while the professor and the government man checked her answers. Finally after a brief discussion with the professor the government man stared hard at Callie.

“You're a remarkable young lady. These problems have been exercising my departmental staff for a week.”

Callie swallowed her half-chewed biscuit and took a sip of tea before replying.

“So have I passed your exam?”

“With flying colours Miss Denton. So are you still prepared to join our team?”

“Provided I can still attend Cambridge and finish my degree. Oh; and I still have reservations about personal privacy. I'm sure you'll understand how difficult it is for transgendered people. Privacy is paramount especially during the difficult years like puberty and / or realisation about ourselves and that usually comes sometime during childhood. If my work entails invasions of privacy of innocent people then I reserve the right to withdraw my support. I'd like my identity to remain as secret as possible.”

“That's no problem. You'll be provided with a secure none electronic connection to Cheltenham and all your problems will be mathematical. We'll send the questions via the professor's computer, you'll be expected to physically transfer them to a 'stand-alone' computer that you will buy but we will pay for.
Buy yourself the best so that you can be certain we are not abusing your privacy. If; or perhaps I should say, when you find solutions; you may once again pass them physically on an encrypted disc to the Professor who will then contact us. I will collect them personally from him. There will be no obvious connection between you and GCHQ and certainly no traceable electronic record. Would you be happy with that?”

“Will I be able to employ GCHQ's computing power if my own 'puter' proves inadequate? I'm sure I can create sufficiently sophisticated encryption programmes to protect my work.”

“Of course, but you'll have to sign the Official secrets act.”

Callie nodded, she had fully expected to.

“Of course,” she mimicked him as he passed the paperwork across the desk.

With the ground rules laid, he invited her and the professor out to dinner at his hotel. There he was surprised to learn that Callie didn't drink.

“So you don't drink at all?” He double-checked.

“Well. I'll take a brandy on Christmas day, it complements the Christmas pudding, but otherwise I'm as sober as the day is long.”

“Well that's not a bad thing in our business. Clear heads are always de-rigour.”

Callie nodded thoughtfully as she savoured her excellent salmon. When they left in the same taxi Callie was pleased that the professor behaved perfectly. They chatted cryptically about the work so the Taxi driver would not understand anything and Callie was dropped right outside the halls of residence.

“See you in the week Miss Denton, I won't be lecturing the first years again this term.”
Night Professor. I'll chase up a new computer during the Saturday unless the college can point me in the right direction.

She stood watching as the professor's taxi left the quadrangle then she went inside. In her pigeon-hole she found a sheaf of notes from Billie and a letter from her mum. She read the letter immediately.

Dear Callie,

Please find enclosed copies of your completed entitlement letters and also a copy of the deeds to Denton. The originals to both documents are kept with our lawyers and also at Somerset House You knew it would be a long time sorting out the estate especially after the condition it was left to you. We have your dear great aunt Beverly to thank for much of the leg-work and drudgery whilst you addressed the estate's profitability. I will be inviting her here for Christmas by way of saying thank you. I hope you will be coming home for Christmas, Maggie has told her mum she will be home so I don't think I'm being presumptious in concluding you will be here as well.

Otherwise there's not much else to tell. Call me if you've got anything to tell me and please confirm if you're coming home for Christmas.

The following morning at first light, Callie phoned home to confirm the Christmas arrangements and she was thrilled that her mad auntie Bev would be up.

That weekend, Callie finalised the GCHQ arrangements and was excited to be invited to Cheltenham. When she went, she naturally stopped over in Oxford to spend a night with Maggie.

“Cheltenham isn't bad for shopping darling, lots of posh people live there so there should be some good pickings in the charity shops.” Maggie grinned.

“Well I suppose I'll be all day at the GCHQ place. I thought you might be visiting your old Alma Mater.”

“I suppose I could do but it's bad manners to arrive unannounced unless one's famous.”

“If one's famous, one usually gets invitations to present prizes etc.” Callie chuckled. “Somehow, I can't see you doing that, leastwise, not for another fifty years or so.”

“Well I'll doubtless find lots to do.”

Callie arrived at the gates to GCHQ with her letter of introduction and had to wait fully ten minutes before her mentor emerged from the bowels of the building. Callie hadn't realised the place was so big.

“I thought it would be some sort of discreet place,” she observed as she followed her mentor back into the depths.

“F'raid not Miss Denton. There's a lot going on these days. Put your right hand in here.”

Callie recognised it as her identification process and complied. There followed several more procedures and eventually she was given a temporary pass.
“You'll get your full pass before we leave this evening. This one is temporary.”

She took the card and shrugged at the stranger glowering back at her as she recalled the old adage about looking like one's passport photo.

At the next stage she was formally invited to sign the official secrets act and after doing so, she reflected that she had finally crossed the Rubicon.

'No going back now', she told herself.

For the rest of the day she was taken around different departments and was surprised to find a small department devoted to transgender issues. Her eyes widened slightly in mild surprise.

“I'm puzzled by this business. I mean transgenderism isn't a crime or even pause for thought these days. At least, not so much in UK.”

“Not here perhaps Miss Denton, but in other countries – well; let's just say it can help our cause sometimes if we learn somebody's gay or a closet transexual.”

“You mean black-mail.”

“Well I wouldn't put it as strongly as that.”

“Well I would. Let's start by calling a spade a spade.”

Her mentor's face clouded with a mix of uncertainty and irritation.

“Does that mean you're not prepared to help?”

“I didn't say that. After all, if I'm to compile algorithms based partly upon human behaviour then transgenderism, or more correctly, gender identity, like sexuality, is a fundamental factor in the mix.”

“Yes. Of course, that makes perfect sense.”

His smile returned as he sensed that Callie was on board for he little realised that Callie was as interested in helping the transgender cause as she was in helping her country. Her take was that if she could improve the general lot of transgendered people worldwide, then by extrapolating her mathematical endeavours, she could improve the lot of humanity.

To help her trans-sisters and brothers, all she had to do was weight the transgender factors differently. If others questioned her values, she could legitimately claim that she had a better knowledge and awareness because she herself was transgendered.

She smiled inwardly at first then let her smile escape as she affirmed her co-operation.

“Now you say that I won't be based here but I can continue my studies at Cambridge?.”

“Yes.”

“And what degree of access with I have to your computers?”
“In the first place, not a lot. Mostly statistics and analysis. Once we're satisfied with your work and you demonstrate sufficient loyalty then you'll probably progress to higher clearance ratings.”

Callie nodded slowly.

“That seems fair.”

By mid afternoon, the tour was completed and he took her to his private office to complete formalities.

“Well that's just about it. Once you get home to your own computer, you can log on with these pass codes then compile your own security procedures.”

“Is that it then? - No swearing of an oath of allegiance no gripping the holy book or grasping the flag or anything?”

“You signed the official secrets act. That's just about it.”

Callie grinned.

“Just how typically British is that, so prosaic; all understatement and inverse informality.”

“That's how we work Miss Denton. Nobody can discern what another person is thinking or feeling. Would you like to go into town for late lunch or early dinner before catching the train?”

“I'm meeting my fiancée in town?”

“All the better. We like to know a little about our staff.”

This understated remark forced an involuntary squawk from Callie.

“Ha! A little! I'll bet you've dug deeper than a gold miner into my past. And don't tell me you haven't!”

He smiled openly. “Of course, we'd be stupid not to; we are, after all, in the spooks game. I'm looking forward to meeting Margaret, or Maggie as you call her. Will she be up for a high tea?”

“Huh, will she ever.”

His revelation concerning Maggie did not faze Callie, she had fully expected it. With the visit over, each dialled into their mobiles, one to organise the rendezvous with Maggie and the other to arrange the meal. Half an hour later they met in hotel. After a brief show of emotion with a hug and a kiss, Callie introduced her mentor to her girlfriend.

“Good afternoon Miss Arnold.”

“Hello Mr uuuhm>”.

Callie grinned and slipped into the impasse.

“I just call him 'Q'”

Maggie let out cackle of derision.

“Oh for goodness sakes, it sounds like a flippin' Bond movie.”

“It works miss Arnold, even at the most comedic level.”

Maggie tempered her mirth as 'Q' continued.

“It's to protect Callie more than me. Her mathematical abilities are very useful to us and Britain.”

“Well that's got to be the truth, she's a right swot.”

“Am not,” Callie objected humorously, “I can't help understanding hard sums.”

“Now, now children!” 'Q' intervened as he entered the mood of levity whilst motioning courteously to the waitress.

She approached immediately and the food was soon ordered. It was an enjoyable and enlightening meal for all three. On the train back to Oxford Maggie tried pumping Callie for more information but Callie's reticence needled her a bit.

“I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. It sounds a bit dodgy to me.”

“No doubt some of it is but I've got my own agenda as well as the official government one.”

“And that is?”

“Not yet darling, early days yet. I'm not even sure how far or what directions I'm bound as yet.”

“Not even an inkling?” Maggie inveigled hopefully.

“Well I have a target but no strategy at the moment.”

“Alright Baldric, I can't wait to find out about 'a cunning plan'.”

By the time they reached Oxford, other issues had surfaced, issues that took them hurriedly to bed.