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(aka Bike) Part 1500 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad
All Rights Reserved. |
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While Simon was out in the garden, the post arrived. These days it’s all over the place and can be delivered any time between breakfast and tea. Most of it was addressed to either Tom or Simon, one was for Julie and the other was for me.
It didn’t look like a circular which is what I usually get, and the envelope was addressed by hand. Then I looked at it again, it was addressed to Miss C Watts. Now I was really puzzled, I mean, I’ve been Mrs Cameron for like yonks, so who hasn’t caught up with that? Probably some bridal shop mail-shotting every unmarried woman in Portsmouth.
I looked at the writing, it looked female, slightly sloping back and the loops were quite large, in fact the writing was–so a bit juvenile too. Compared to my forward sloping micrographia–I can read it so where’s the problem–those who can’t probably need an appointment with an optician.
Given that I’ve had nasty letters in the past, I opened the envelope with a sharp kitchen knife and shook out the contents, it was a handwritten letter in blue ink, and the script matched the envelope. I opened up the letter with the knife and a wooden spoon–it was to hand–trying not to touch the paper until I knew it wouldn’t need to go to the police. I flipped it over and there was a signature. I downed my implements and picked up the letter, reading it through quickly–according to Donna Leon, in one of her Brunetti whodunits, Italians can’t read very quickly. I obviously had no Italian in me.
I put the letter down and made myself a cup of coffee–I wanted something different to tea–just for a change, then I carried the letter through to my study, sat myself down and read it again, twice.
I drank the coffee slowly, partly because it was hot and partly because I wasn’t sure what I made of the missive I’d just received. I picked up the note again, the lavender coloured paper would not be my first choice, especially when enclosed in a brown envelope.
‘Dear Miss Watts,
I believe that’s the correct form of address for you now. I heard bits and pieces about you on the local radio and once on television. I knew you as a boy, and everyone, except possibly me, thought you were gay.
I remember the Lady Macbeth episode, you seemed to come alive in a skirt or dress, so I knew you were really a girl–and for a schoolgirl, you were quite an actress. But then people with gender problems are good actors aren’t they? Pretending to be one thing when they know they’re the other–then if they realise their dream–they have to pretend they were always this way, inventing memories of girlhoods they never had, of periods they’d give their right arms for and so on.
I remember you with your long hair half way down your back and the trouble it caused you with the school and I believe your parents too. I was sorry to discover they’d both died and you’d moved to Portsmouth–your neighbour in Bristol gave me your address.
So why have I sought you out and how did I know you were a really a girl? The answer is obvious, I’m following in your footsteps. You probably won’t remember me, a scrawny kid two years younger than you, but I worshipped you from afar. I wished I could have grown my hair and worn a girl’s uniform, even for a month like you did. You were my heroine, and I suppose in some ways you still are.
I saw you were living with some bloke when you were outted, I hope he knew beforehand, knowing you, I expect he did, when I saw you on the BBC Bristol news saying what you’d done and were planning to do, I was gobsmacked. You had the guts to face the media and tell your story–I suspect because someone else was going to do an exposé but it was still a brave thing for you to do.
I’m living as a girl now, or should that be woman? Not really, I live on my own, my parents disowned me, and I can’t get work for love nor money and until I can get a job, the NHS won’t give me the surgery. So I tend to get depressed–I’m sure you know what I mean.
I have no friends, just one or two people from our local TG support group, and they seem to be as useless as I am. Now, the point of my writing to you. You seem to have dealt with most of the issues including having a boyfriend and I’d just like to talk with someone who seems to have made it, because from where I’m standing, it seems a long uphill and lonely struggle and to be honest, I wonder if I’m going to make it.
I’m sorry to burden you, because I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than have your ear bent by a loser like me–but just a few words from someone who seemed destined to be successful in becoming a woman would help me no end.
At the moment, the only good thing I have going is sometimes babysitting my landlady’s little girl. It’s about the only normal thing I do except watch telly and walk. Walking’s supposed to be good to help stave off depression, so I do a lot of it.
I doubt you remember me, I was John Voyce, now Caroline. If you have a few moments to spare me, I’d be really grateful. Sorry if I’ve rambled.
Your ex-schoolfriend,
Caroline Voyce.’
Simon came in having worked up sweat with the axe, he wanted a drink. I offered him coffee but he wanted something cold. I got him an orange squash.
“I’ve just had a letter from someone who was in school at the same time I was at Bristol Grammar.”
He looked intently at me, “Do you know them?”
“I’m not sure. I have a vague memory of them.”
“What d’they want?”
“They claim to be transsexual and would just like to talk.”
“Why do they want to talk now?”
“I get the impression they’re desperate.” I showed him the letter.
“They sound desperate, what do you propose to do about it? Ignore it?”
“I’m not sure what to do, they give a phone number, I thought I’d give them a call.”
“To do what?”
“Not sure, I could pop up to Bristol, check out the house and possibly see them.”
“If you do be careful, you don’t know them or if they’re genuine. If you do arrange to meet them, do it somewhere public.”
“I was–if they sound genuine on the phone. I can’t leave it there without at least talking to them, can I?”
“Why not? I don’t hear you saying they supported you, so why should you help them? Haven’t you got enough gender issues with Trish, Billie and Julie, not to mention Maureen.”
“Shouldn’t the strong support the weak?”
“Possibly, but what you don’t want is a lame duck. For all you know she looks like a cross between a sumo wrestler and a gorilla.” He snorted at his own joke and even I had to smirk. “Could be why no one will employ her.”
“Could be. Talking of sumo wrestlers,” I prodded his belly, “You’re headed that way yourself.”
“What? I am not, I’m just cuddly.”
“Yeah, in the same way a killer whale is cuddly.”
“So, we make a nice pod together.” At my astonishment that he knew anything about wild animals at all, he poked out his tongue. “See, you’re not the only who knows about wildlife.”
“I’m impressed. Now go catch a sea lion while I call this person.”
“Sea lion? They eat fish don’t they?”
“They eat whatever they can get their gobs around, including sea lions.”
“You should be on telly,” he said and ran off before I could thump him.
I shut the study door, and dialled the number on the letter. We’re an unlisted number so I was happy calling from home.
“’Ello,” said a sort of indeterminate voice, neither male nor female, but it had a Bristolian accent–something I haven’t missed.
“Could I speak to Caroline?”
“Who’s calling?”
“My name is Cathy.”
“Is that, Cathy Watts?”
“I used to be.”
“You ’aven’t reverted, ’ave you?”
“No, I got married.”
“Crikey–to that bloke you were on telly with?”
“Yes.”
“Congratulations–I can’t see anyone wanting to marry me.” A vision of Simon’s joke flashed through my mind.
“I didn’t think anyone would want me either.”
“So you changed your birth certificate and all that?”
“Yeah, and got married.”
“You were so girlish even as a boy, you’re not intersex are you?”
“Not as far as I know."
"‘Cos you looked so female in that uniform–d’you remember?”
“That was partly because my friend Sián helped me, she was at the girl’s school.”
“Well I’ve got a sister and she didn’t want to know–said I was a pervert or a freak, lots of women have problems accepting us.”
“I suppose the closer you are to the problem the harder it is sometime to see the issues clearly, emotions get in the way. My dad had problems with it until my mum died and he had a stroke–then he needed me and he changed his opinion. When he was dying, he waited for me to get there before he let go and he was asking for me in my new role.”
“You were lucky, my dad threw me out–the only reason I got this place was because the shrink I was seeing and the social decided I was a vulnerable adult. Mind you, I was lucky there, my landlady’s a real treasure and I sometimes get to babysit little Poppy–she’s a real darlin’.”
“Mummy, what’s for lunch?” Livvie was standing at my elbow.
“Ask Jenny to make something will you, darling? I’ll be along presently–there’s cold meat in the fridge and salad stuff.”
“Okay, Mummy.” She ran off to find Jenny.
“Sorry about that.”
“Did she call you, Mummy?”
“Yeah, she’s one of my adopted kids.”
“You’ve adopted children?”
“Yes, I have one boy and six girls.”
“Blimey, how did you manage that?”
“With some difficulty and a helpful judge.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It’s unusual and I accept I’ve been very lucky, although it does tend to make my life rather busy. One of them was sick last night–guess who got to nurse her half the night?”
“Yeah, but if some kid called me mummy, I’d die happy.”
“I actually felt uncomfortable with it at first, but they all persisted, even the seventeen year old.”
“You’ve got one of seventeen, but you’re only what twenty seven?”
“Yeah, but I was teaching students that age, so it seemed okay, and she likes it.”
“Geez, I wish you’d been my mother.”
“I think that might have been verging on absurdity, if you’re only two years younger than I.”
“Yeah, but that’s the sort of luck I get.”
“I’m not sure if I believe in luck, sometimes we have to trust to life and ourselves.”
“Yeah, ’cept so far, life hasn’t been too helpful.”
“Don’t give up, or you’ll have wasted all this pain for nothing?”
“I get so lonely.”
“I’ve done that one, it isn’t nice but I came through it and now finding a few minutes to myself is the difficult thing.”
“Well thanks for calling, I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could meet, is there–p’raps you could come and talk to our group.”
“About what?” I somehow thought dormice would be inappropriate for that lot.
“You know, how you made it–I’m sure it would inspire the others–I know it would me.”
“Where and when d’you meet?”
“If you let me know when you’re available, we can borrow a room at Mind.”
“Is tomorrow too short notice?”
“No, I’m sure I could get a few of our lot there.”
“Tomorrow afternoon then, where is the Mind place?”
“Gloucester Road, near the cricket ground.”
“Okay, I think I can find it.”
“Well you got my mobile number if you’re lost, gimme a ring, what time two or three?”
“Say, two and you can access this room and call one or two of your group?”
“They’ll all be there–I hope–especially if you can tell ’em how you got to be a foster mother. Some of ’em are doin’ alright but nothin’ like that. It’ll be great to see you again–though I suppose you don’t remember me, do you?”
“Not sure, skinny kid with ginger hair, was that you?”
“You do remember.”
“Sort of, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“That’s made my day, thanks for calling.” She rang off and I was left wondering if I’d done the right thing. I wondered if Julie was available for a ride tomorrow?
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Happy Bikeday
"Chapeau on making 1500 not out, Angharad."
"You shouldn't mix your sporting cliches, Jeffrey - proper authors frown at that kind of thing."
"I thought it was most appropriate under the circumstances, Susie."
"I'll let it pass, then. But while we're here, Angharad's in a league of her own in taking it one episode at a time, so ask her for some creative writing tips."
"I can't do that."
"Why not, Jeffrey - do you want us to be stuck on the Golden Mile until Christmas?"
"Patience, Susie, I've got you your cheese, and we're on our way again."
"Oh well, it probably wouldn't help, because I suspect Angharad is really Triplicate Girl in triguise - it's one explanation for her fecundity."
"Don't be cheeky, Susie."
"Or perhaps she only needs four hours sleep a night like Margaret Thatcher."
"Mind your language, Susie; that's waving a blue handbag at dawn to a Guardian reader."
"Then it's a good job Angharad doesn't know what you said about Polly Toynbee."
"For Dawkin's sake, don't mention that - just pass on our good wishes without more ado."
"Leave it to me, Jeffrey ... Thanks, Angharad, I hope it's downhill all the way from here to 2000."
"You're deliberately trying to get us into trouble, Susie."
*No, I'm not, Jeffrey - now, shush, and eat your pickled dormouse."
"You've got a crust, Susie."
"And it's delicious, Jeffrey - even better than albatross chicks."
" It's Lancashire hotpot, honest, Angharad."
"She knows what we are, Jeffrey, and we've done more than enough messing about. We'd better stop before we hog the entire page."
"Right, Susie, let's get to the point - all together now ...
"Happy bikeday to you,
Happy bikeday to you,
Happy bikeday, dear Angharad,
Happy bikeday to you."
Keep on spinning,
Susie and Jeffrey - and Jamie's in there somewhere.
Jamie
A tribute ...
... I can't hope to emulate so I'll just tag mine to it.
Another Guardian reader (and a Polly T fan too, so be careful what you say Jeffrey)
Robi
Happy MD Episodes
Well Congrats to making to MD in Episodes of EAFOAB, heres to some more for the future
"MD is 1500 in Roman Numerals for those who dont know"
Set-up?
Given Angharad's past history on these matters, my suspicion is that this is a set-up possibly involving a journalist. Definitely a good idea if Julie or one of the others was there,
Mostly Harmless
I think rather, that Cathy ...
may have found the other helper she needs at home?
Holly
It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
Holly
My first thought too!
Although given the Marlene Hickmann affair back in 316-320 (June 2008), it's probably prudent to take back-up in the form of Julie. If the group is genuine, then Julie will probably do a very embarrassing PR job on her adopted mum :)
Perhaps afterwards, they can conduct a mini-interview ("Are you up for a challenge?!") - after all, babysitting for one youngster is ever-so-slightly different from assisting with nine under-18s (including Stella's pair, who are, after all, part of the same household!): a teenager, two tweens, three 7 year olds, a toddler (Puddin') and two babies (Catherine [1] and Fiona [nearly 4 months]).
Anyway, congrats on reaching 1,500 - and if anyone's daft enough to volunteer to help maintain the summaries, let me know :)
--B
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
My first thought was
My first thought was Caroline Voyce will be the new nanny that Cathy is looking for.
Cathy the compassionate
She can't ever resist helping others. And that's one of the things we love about her. Hope this is on the level. Sounds ok for now at least.
Thank you Angha,
ALISON
'for all the joy you have given us over 1500 chapters,absolutely,positively marvellous!!!!!!
ALISON
Well!
Congratulations and thank you!
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1500
This meeting can lead to another misadventure.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
I Think Cathy Just Found Her Help
Congratulations
Amazing body of scribbles!
Maddy Bell
http://maddybell.com
Madeline Anafrid Bell
And all this
from another author that we have been reading since 2003
Congrats to the 1500th
to you Angharad, for writing them. And for us for being lucky enough to have gotten this much to enjoy. Hurrah. (3x)
Also, 1500..? should we rejoice this amount? Or should we hold it till we reach, umm, -12 pence in a shilling, 20 shilling in a pound, is.. 240... which makes, how many times 240 before we reach 1500? Is... 6! At least! So 6 times 240 is 1440. Oi! That's, oh.. um leaves 60. Which is 1/4th of a pound. Urr... Drops a finger from left, add one to right.. Uh, 7 times 240 is 1680.. Okay! So, maybe when we reach 1680, 7 pounds, we'll have to reaaally whoop and holler...
Oh god, this imperial system does make my head spin. I'll hope you don't mind. 1500 is momentous. Gargantuan. Incredible. And appreciated a 100 times more. Thanks Ang, I still love it. Hope you do too.
Jo-Anne
Bike MD
Indeed, what can I say? I thought of copying others, and writing a character-spoof, but most of mine are miserable buggers a lot of the time, and this is one for celebration.
MD - Doctor of Mayhem
Where would we be without our regular dose of 'Bike?'
Well done.
S.
What an amazing serial story
What an amazing serial story we all have been given by a most excellent authoress. It is fabulous to be reading chapter 1500 and we are still wanting more. Angharad, Thank you so very much for your talent and time that you have given us all these many, many years. Janice Lynn
1500
I have read all fifteen hundred ,we your fans Angharad need at least that many more ,none of us could go through our daily lives with out getting our medicine.
Thank you so much Angharad .
Love and Hugs Roo
ROO
Thank you for another great
Thank you for another great chapter, in fact for all 1500. I always look forward to reading Bike (and of course a few other things) on BCTS.
As others have said, this may be a prelude to Cathy getting her new helper.
Kris
{I leave a trail of Kudos as I browse the site. Be careful where you step!}
Kris
{I leave a trail of Kudos as I browse the site. Be careful where you step!}
Congrats
on reaching a real milestone. Must be close to 2 million words at this point.
Keep it up.
Now THAT's a good thought...
Taking Julie along is probably a good idea. It'd be good for Julie - if the group's on the up-and-up (and this Caroline SOUNDS legit). That all said, I dunno if I'd want to meat someone with as much going for her as Cathy... Oh, I probably would, but knowing I'd not be so attractive wouldn't help. She does have some OTHER advantages... The Cameron money does come in handy - as does being able to claim (honestly) to be her ladyship...
All that said - this COULD be the kind of help Cathy needs - herself.
Thanks,
Anne
Bike
Thanks for fifteen hundred episodes, it`s been a great read. Roll on the next couple of thousand.
Hugs
Sue
I'm really glad.
I'm really glad that Cathy has 'stepped back' into her past and decided to seemingly reach out to her less fortunate sisters.
Yes, there are many older girls who will always have trouble passing, courtesy of a medical profession that was historically conservative, culturally blinkered, heterosexist, ageist and insensitive. (Sorry Angie, my slip just showed.)
I sometimes become impatient with those 'succesful' post-op girls who, having transitioned sufficiently well to 'pass' then decide they want nothing more to do with LGBT and decide to do 'stealth'.
Yes, I know the hurt and the pain of long years of distress are behind them but it can't do any harm surely to occasionally reach out and back to help their less fortunate sisters.
I'm glad Cathy continues to seemingly hold this view by helping others. Good girl Cathy.
Organisations like MIND do tremendous work helping transgendered people. Glad you mentioned them.
OXOXOX
Loved this chapter Angie, it touched upon some of my own activities.
OXOXOX.
Bev
OH! And happy 1500th.
Growing Old Disgracefully.
A milestone moment
1500 chapters of quality is truly a sterling achievement.
Thank you for your years of dedicated work.
Kathy
Bike 125 dozen
(As my nick has been mentioned already many times I had to use another calculation ;)
Bike 1500: As I would have guessed you managed to write another episode without Simon finding out about the current owner of the Jaguar...
Please keep writing!
MD
Martina
What can i add
to whats already been said , Other than thank you Angharad, Reading the Stories of life with the Camerons is still one of the highlights of my day ... Here's to the next 1500.
Hugs Kirri
I remember
when you used to put fun things at the top of the page when you reached milestones like this 1500th entry. Thank you for all the wonderful adventures and I hope you are able to continue. A day without Cathy is dull indeed.
Another Milestone, Even More Impressive!
Congratulations and thank you, Angharad, for sticking it out for so long!! I hope you continue to do so, although I'm grateful for what we've received so far.
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
x
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
Passing it down,
I think most of us do that to one extent or another.
What an Epic!
Just finished reading #1500, what a great story! Now I only have a few more to get caught up!
Hugs
Gina
I made it. I made it to 1
I made it. I made it to 1,500! ;-) That means, as of today, I only have 1,520 parts to go. And, I'll love every one of 'em!
I suspect
Cathy may have found her help.