Heir to a Title 31.

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. (Eventually to become wife.)
Jane Arnold, Maggie's mother.
James Denton (The Ferrety Denton) Callie's ambitious, uncle.

Early Sunday morning found Callie and Maggie strolling together hand-in-hand along the banks of the Isis. The Winter chill had created a slight mist for there was no wind, just the frozen stunned silence of the lonely meadows. As they watched some rowers slicing through the glass calm mirror of the river, Callie found herself reflecting on the mathematical equations describing the shape of the bow wave and subsequent ripples. Maggie squeezed Callie's arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

At first Callie was about to discuss the maths but she desisted. Maggie was studying biology and would probably be more interested in the river's fauna and flora. Then another thought came to mind and she asked Maggie.

“Why do they call it the Isis?”

Maggie squeezed closer to get warm as she explained.

“The old Celtic or possibly the Romano-Celtic name for either the whole river or just this tributary was probably Thamesis and the locals got lazy. They ended up calling this bit the Isis. Then the academics arrived and I suppose they got a bit pretentious. Isis has some classical connotations so that bit stuck.”

“Oooohh. You're a proper mine of information aren't you.” Callie hugged her tighter reciprocating the affectionate gesture.”

Thus reassured by Callie's tightened embrace, Maggie pushed again.

“Now are you really going to tell me what you were thinking about?”

“You'd be bored stiff if I told you.”

“Try me”. Maggie challenged.

“Okay then, I was thinking about the sinusoidal bow wave forms caused by the boats as they cleave the water then I was trying to extrapolate the exponential decay equations as the waves curve out towards the bank. You see it's strange how they curve away from the bow but reflect as a straight wave if they hit a straight barrier like the bridge abutments. I was wondering -. You're not listening anymore are you?”

“Shhh. Look!” Maggie whispered softly. “There's a kingfisher!”

“There!” Callie responded in the requisite whisper. “All you're interested in is birds.” Callie lamented.

“Better than being a numbers geek.” Maggie retaliated affectionately. “But I still love you.”

Maggie's awareness and acceptance of Callie's maths bug was one of her characteristics that attracted her to the biologist. They hugged each other tightly and paused to embrace in a passionate kiss beneath a chestnut tree. They were so engrossed in their embrace that they failed to notice a group of male students approaching until their loud chatter alerted Callie.

Even at a distance of some fifty metres Callie recognised the dinner jackets and white scarves of a bunch of Bullingdon Club members struggling home after a night out. Then she realised that the group had noticed her and Maggie. As both Callie and Maggie were very attractive girls, Callie prepared for the inevitable and uninvited attention..

“Stand by Mags', enemy sighted astern of you. Just let me -”

Maggie tensed slightly and tried to look behind. Callie disguised her preparations by grasping Maggie's face and gently planting a kiss on her lips.

“What-choo doing girl?” Maggie demanded as she felt Callie's arm struggling to bend awkwardly.

“Taking precautions girl. There, I've got it.”

Callie's right hand had reached into her shoulder bag and emerged clutching a spray.

“Whassat?” She whispered as the students came closer.

“Just a precaution,” Callie reassured her.

Inevitably the sight of two very attractive 'lesbians' kissing was deemed cause for comment by a bunch of spoiled, arrogant, toffs and initially they started jeering and cat-calling as young males in packs are want to do.

“Coor! Look at the lezzo totty lads. Warra' waste.”

Knowing that just ignoring them would not suffice to detract their attentions, Callie just formed 'two fingers' behind Maggie's back as she looked over Maggie's shoulder and retorted.

“Fuck off you dumb apes.”

Inevitably one of the jeering oafs deemed any sort of reaction to be just cause to invade their space. He stepped out of his group and leaned into the girl's space and leered provocatively.

“A girl as pretty as you should get herself a real man Come on darling, give me a ki - Aaargh!”

He reared back cursing and rubbing his eyes to no avail as his cronies stared stupidly at his bright blue face. Callie just turned and glared at them whilst pointing her can of mace.

“You'd better take that dumb chimpanzee to casualty. He'll need treatment.”

A shocked silence overcame the group before one of the more reasonable boys protested as he guided his blinded crony away.

“What the hell d' you do that for? He was only joshing?”

“He was threatening me, least ways I thought he was. To threaten a woman is sexual assault, so fuck off.”

“If his sight is damaged, you'll be for it.”

Callie was familiar with the type of mace she preferred and used. Experience had taught her that the more acceptable, preferred propriety maces were often not enough to prevent a determined abuser. The blue one she purchased on line was the strongest safe one on the market.

“You'd better take him to casualty. He won't suffer any permanent damage but the longer you leave it, the longer he'll take to heal and the longer he'll be in pain. By the way, the dye stays around for a week or more so everybody will know he's been maced.”

Her reply persuaded the semi-intelligetn one to hurry his blinded friend away. Callie turned to re-engage Maggie's arm and the two resumed strolling along the riverside path as if nothing had happened.

“Is that stuff really safe?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, but it disables them for longer and it's much more painful than the stuff you buy over the counter here. He'll be rinsing out his eyes every five minutes for the next couple of hours. It even works on pit-bulls.”

Maggie chuckled and the pair were still embracing each other as they stepped up from the idyllic riverside path onto the road bridge then across the river into town as they strolled back to hall.

That afternoon, Callie reluctantly returned to Cambridge and immediately started work on her computers. With her new password, she quickly availed herself of the limited material that GCHQ had entitled her to access. It was midnight when her laptop bullied her into going to bed. The laptop had her timetable embedded and knew when she had important lectures to attend. Monday's applied maths and IT lecture was, for Callie at least, the most important lesson of the week.

After the Monday morning lecture, the tutor approached her with a hand-written letter from the professor.
Callie thanked him and took it to the refectory to read over a coffee. It was brief and direct. The professor listed a couple of items and some preferred fields of investigation. That afternoon she finished the assignation stemming from the morning lecture then devoted the evening to the professor's stuff. Invariably she found herself hungry around midnight and visited the local MacDonald's before finally succumbing to her pillow as Tuesday's dawn crept slowly up the winter sky.
.
A gentle banging disturbed her sleep in the mid afternoon. It was Michael.

“Where've you been all weekend babes?”

“I went to Oxford to visit Maggie.”

“There were some gentlemen of a somewhat Moorish appearance looking for you.”

“Go on.”

“They wouldn't say much just that they were wanting to talk to you.”

Callie had a good idea as to who they were but decided not to go fishing. If it was that important, they'd be back.

And back they were.

On the Wednesday, a firm knock on her ancient study door alerted her to a visit by a porter. It took her a few seconds to secure her computers so she called through the door asking them to wait.

“You've got visitors Miss Denton.”

Callie quickly switched on the micro camera and microphone then once her computers were shut down she opened her door. The porter presented himself as three Moorish individuals were stood behind them.

“These gentlemen are from the middle east Miss Denton, they have asked to speak to you. Are you happy to accept them as guests?”

“Okay then Mr Worcester. Thank you.”

The porter had already formed his own conclusions about the visitors and whispered softly.

“Would you like me to stay miss?”

Callie smiled before replying in a simila whisper.

“I've got my rape alarm and the window's open, you'll hear it all the way across the quad.”

“Very well miss,” he turned and ushered the three men in.

Callie remained seated as they swaggered in and the porter left whilst leaving the door open.

“Sit down gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

The men took the available seating as the smaller one opened up.

“We are representatives of the Saudi Government Miss Denton and we are here on a matter of some discretion.”

“Would this be the attempted rape.”

It was against their customs to get down to business immediately. In their own country, there were elaborate courtesies to be gone through before the reasons for a visit could be addressed. Calie's coming straight to the point unsettled them slightly. The three exchanged concerned looks as the smaller one coughed politely.

“Ahem, yes. We are trying to mitigate the damages.”

“How would you do that?” Callie wondered aloud.

“Well – we were wondering – and hoping that you might be prepared to accept a suitable sum of money as compensation for damages if you were to drop the charges?”

“It's not a matter of damages gentlemen, it's a matter of keeping female students safe in a university city after dark. Indeed gentlemen, it's a matter of keeping every woman everywhere in Britain safe after dark. If this thug thinks he can get off by simply throwing money at the case until it goes away then the next Saudi princeling with believe the same thing and so the attacks might resume elswhere by somebody else at some later date. Anyway, I believe he might be implicated in much more serious charges in London. Serial rape, I believe.”

The trio exchanged very concerned frowns.

“Where did you learn of that?”

“That's no concern of yours. But my sources tell me that the victims were smuggled victims of the Albanian sex trade. Eastern European women. I must first contact the police and check if those victims are safe.”

“They have accepted very large sums as compensation.”

“In return for dropping the cases I'll warrant. Well I'm not concerned about what compensation deals they might have struck. I need to know if they are safe, - for the rest of their lives that is.”

“Why would you concern yourself with that?”

Callie spelled it out as forcefully and patiently as she could.

“Because - I - am - a – woman, - and - women - must - be - made – safe. It's not just me you see, it's every woman in Britain, or even the world.”

“I would respectfully suggest that you are being idealistic and overly ambitious for a - “

“For a woman; is that what you were going to say?”

Callie had read his thoughts exactly. Her nailing his thoughts so accurately unnerved him.
and his uncertain pause gave her another opportunity to drive her agenda.

“Do you think then that women are not capable of addressing such issues or do you think they are not entitled to?”

He was stuck for words momentarily and Callie hit harder.

“Well, I – it's not that -”

“I suspect it is. You genuinly think that I have no rights to act upon this assault because I am a woman and an infidel woman at that!”

“You have no evidence to support that. You would lose your argument even in an English court of law.”

“I am not going to court over my beliefs, I'm going to court over a sexual assault, an attempted rape.”

“Are you being so intransigent because he is a Muslim?”

The smaller man had hit the nail right on the head but Callie refused to be caught in some sort of 'islamaphobia' trap. She wagged her head forcefully.

“I am not saying anything of the sort and I'll thank you not to make such objectionable charges. I was assaulted late at night for no other reason than I was out alone at night and indeed, my assailant openly declared this to be so as he attacked me.

This sort of oppression cannot be allowed to continue and if I can play my tiny part in bringing the full force of the law to bear, then I will.

There's to be no deal gentlemen, so I must respectfully request that you leave.”

“Are you telling me you are prepared to turn down a huge sum of money just for a minor sexual assault?”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you gentlemen and might I remind you it was not minor. No sexual assault is minor, especially one at the dead of night. That's all gentlemen, you can see yourselves out thank you.”

The trio left whilst obviously arguing amongst themselves in Arabic.

After they had left, Callie became curious about the efforts that the Saudi government had expended trying to cover up the assault. As she watched the three of them depart the quadrangle, she immediately turned to her computers and started browsing Saudi Arabia. It wasn't long before she located and identified her attacker as a member of the House of Saud and quite high up in the inheritance pecking order, such as pecking orders existed in Islamic dynasties. Callie was well aware that the selection of the next monarch did not follow a strict hereditary protocol as was the case in European royal families but it was more of a series of political jockeying for power then grabbing the opportuniy if it presented itself. Assasinations and 'disappearences' were rife when inheritance became an issue.

After checking the supposed line of succession, Callie availed herself of what information was available via the GCHQ computers and learned a little more. Her attacker was a little closer to the Saudi throne than the official 'line-of-sucession' would seem to indicate. Her reservations were proven to have substance when the next morning she received an unexpected call from the police officer dealing with her case.

She bid the police woman welcome and offered the sunny end of her sofa while she settled by her desk incase she needed to consult her computers. The officer wasted no time and opened up even before Callie had finished putting the kettle on.

“I hear you've been approached by certain gentlemen from Saudi.”

“True.” Callie confirmed. “They tried to bribe me to withdraw my complaints.”

“And?”

“No way. I've had it up to here with issues ranging from univited attentions right up to attempted rape.”

“So you're definitely going ahead with it?”

“Ye-ess. Why, have you started having reservations.”

“No, no. That's just it. Every female officer I speak to is supporting you and most of the male officers as well, but we suspect there's some sort of big arms deal in the wind and your attacker is one of the Saudi princes possibly in line to the throne.

They might use the arms deal to get some leverage on the British government to get the assault charges dropped. They might bring some pressure to bear.”

“No fucking way!” Callie cursed angrily. “My whole lifetime agenda, all nineteen years of it, has been devoted to women's rights. This bastard is not getting away with it and I wouldn't bloody care even if he was going to be the next king of Saudi Arabia.”

The police officer nodded with tight-lipped satisfaction.On the metropolitan police grape vine she had learned of a tremendous amount of dissatisfaction amongst the Metropolitan Police concerning the fact that the assailant had managed to get the women victims in London to drop the charges. There had been whispers that veiled threats in addition to huge bribes had prevented the east European victims of human trafficking from continuing with the prosecutions. The police officer nodded sagely as she made some brief notes in her book.

“Well Miss Denton. If you continue with your determination, we shall at least be able to give our colleagues in London a modicum of satisfaction. All the effort they put into their case down south has come to nought and it now hinges upon you. Thanks again for your continued determination.”

“Don't worry officer, my mind is made up.”

She nodded and tipped her hat briefly by way of grateful thanks before leaving. Callie stared at the doorway then scanned the copy forms that the officer had left for her. From the forms, she learned her assailants name and title. With the aid of her new computers and her GCHQ access, she soon had all the details she needed. Her attacker was certainly a high-ranking grandson of the current king and further hunting located the GCHQ file on him. Callie's maths and computer skills were already helping her to circumvent some of the hacking blocks. She pursed her lips angrily when she finally located his file and noted what offences he'd bee originally charged with. Further reading did not endear her to him.

“Right you arrogant, evil bastard,” she thought to herself. “Here's where you get yours.”

A brief evenings work soon had her hacked into his computer and her GCHQ connections now enabled her to monitor all his emails, albeit illegally. Nevertheless, she soon had a thick dossier on him including some rather murky and sinister events in other countries, especially Lebanon and Tunisia. Apparently some girls in a night-club had gone missing and Interpol were somehow involved because the girls had been European minor celebrities.

Cautiously, Callie attached a portal to the prince's email address so that every message going in or out was monitered. The man had several safety gates and a scrambler but his efforts were to no avail. Callie's computer skills were of a level that eventually broke all his security codes and passwords, but more importantly, she managed it without being detected.

After having broken into the prince's account, Callie purchased an old-fashioned type-writer and carefully recorded all the pertinant information that might somehow bring about the man's downfall. Her hopes were finally answered when the Prince got careless and sent some messages to a friend who took the same perverted pleasure in attacking lonely infidel women.
Although the messages were in Arabic, her translation programme readily reduced them to comprhensible messages and she was amazed to discover that they were discussing two things. The first was where they could find suitable victims for their further perverted delights. The second item first made her blood run cold, they were planning to somehow shut the Cambridge infidel bitch down. Knowing this obviously referred to her, she realised it was unsafe to go to the police herself and she debated posting a type-written 'snail-mail' note to GCHQ in Cheltenham. After ruminating on it for a weekend she reluctantly decided to do so and by the following Thursday an anonymous letter arrived on the Middle-eastern desk of GCHQ. The information in itself was very much low key but it was of sufficient detail to prompt action enough to have it integrated into the pertinent algorithms on GCHQ's computers. Callie was content to let the information keep it's low priority status because it enable her to access it fairly easily withou attracting attention.

Some weeks later Callie received notice of her court hearing date.

Inevitably, thanks to the depth and detail of the questioning she faced, it became common knowledge about Callie's transgendered status. The barrister even tried to have the charges dropped on the grounds that Callie was 'still a male' and therefore there was no case of sexual assault to answer. To his chagrin, Callie readily produced her gender reassignment certificate thereby demonstarating that she was legally a woman. This, coupled with her obvious beautiful famle appearance and the judge's clear direction to the jury to consider Callie to be legally a woman, was enough to win Callie her case. Her attacker was found guilty by a unanimous verdict and sentenced to six months in prison.

Callie wished it had been six years but she had to be thankful for small mercies. Even a six month sentence would send a loud clear message to Muslim princes that they were not above the law, at least not in the UK.