Leader of the Pack Part 5

We had a good dinner and I was starting to appreciate the finer things in life. He told me to call him Jim and introduced me to the finer points of a good whiskey. When it got to the point of why we were here, in the city, and not down south there was a strained silence until I decided that we should really come clean.

I asked him if he had a computer in the house that we could use and we gathered in his office. Once it was up and running I asked him to look up the local London Sunday paper and the look on his face when the front page loaded was priceless. He picked out Kelly immediately and then asked who the other two girls were. Kelly told him that one was the Sally that was mentioned in the article and the other was standing next to him. He let out a hoot and then said, “So the lad is a dyke in his spare time”. This led to us telling him how I had found myself looking like a girl at the head of a protest march. He then read the rest of the story and was serious when he asked if I had actually put the politician in hospital. I said the ambulance had done that but I did give him a reason to go.

He then carried on looking at the paper after Sunday, something that interested us as well as we had not had any communication with home since we left. On Monday the news broke that the leader of the pack could have been a drag artist wrestler hired for the day. On Tuesday the lead story was that the politician wanted to press charges. Wednesday the lawyers acting for Sally in her own assault case said that they would work for the mystery man or woman as they had certain information that would ensure her being acquitted of any charge.

Friday the news broke that someone had admitted that the mystery girl was, in fact Bertram Granger and the police said that they wanted to speak to him as a matter of urgency but he was no-where to be found. The Saturday paper, however, was the one that caused me to gasp. It reported that Sallys’ lawyers had been given a piece of video, taken by one of the girls in the protest group, that clearly showed the politician attacking Sally and then shouting at me with his hand brought back to smack me down. It was, they declared a certain fact that any action I had taken was purely in self-defence. It was odd to see a picture of me, from the back, as the leader, shouting and shaking my dirty blonde hair in anger.

Today’s paper had a picture of his wife leaving the family home with her suitcases being loaded into a taxi. She had a big smile on her face and was quoted as saying that she planned to get every penny she could when the divorce went through. The wayward son was standing at the door, obviously wondering who would cook and clean for him now. At the end of the article it said that although the police still wanted to speak to Bertram Granger, they had no further intentions of laying charges, having viewed the video themselves. They stated that they would now support Sally in laying charges.

“Well” he said “That is a hell of a story and I do have to say that the politician is not one I would support. Hell, I would strike a medal for you myself. The thing is that now you two need to go back down south and present yourselves to the police station as an act of public obedience. It would look good and would look even better if it was fully covered by the press. Leave this with me and we will sort it out. If I do, will you come back here and work for me?”

I looked at Kelly and said “I think that I would like that, sir, as long as it included taking Kelly as my wife.” Kelly said “I will take that as a proposal and give my answer when you come up with a ring.” Jim started laughing and we joined in. It was a magic moment and it cemented our relationship from that time on.

On Monday morning he took us to see his own lawyers and they went through the story with us. We gave an accurate account of why we were there and how I came to be there dressed as a girl. We did not need to give any detail of what we had done while in Newcastle and I think that it was a given that my new look was a case of disguise. I, of course, did not say that I had spent the week in dresses. They got onto the lawyers mentioned in the article and a serious discussion was entered into. The upshot was that the London firm would arrange for me to present myself at the police station and that they would arrange all of the ‘bells and whistles’, including representing me if I wanted to lay a charge of attempted assault.

After lunch I called my mother and she was very relieved to hear from me. I told her that I would be back in the city tomorrow and would be at the police station at ten on Wednesday morning but would not be coming home until after the reporters had been satisfied, to keep the family out of it. She told me that they had been hounded for comments but had said nothing. I next rang my boss at the courier company and apologised for not showing up last week. He laughed and said that he fully understood after seeing the paper and that I made a really good woman. He then said to drop in to the office as he wanted to give me my wages as well as a little bonus from all the lads as a thank you for dropping the bastard who had made their lives a misery with all of the regulations he wanted to bring in. So far we had not anybody who liked the man; I suppose his mother still loved him.

That was blown out of the water the next day when we looked at the on-line edition. His own mother told the press that her son was an utter bastard, had always acted like a bastard and that it was all only proper as he was actually a bastard. She refused to have anything to do with her grandson and finished her rant by saying she hoped they both rotted in hell. The picture showed her daughter-in-law standing behind her chair with the caption ‘Battered wife finally finds peace with her mother-in-law.’

Early Tuesday afternoon we all went to London in the car with Grover driving. Jim had booked us into his usual hotel and had told the manager that we did not want to be disturbed by the press during our stay. Wednesday morning I was up and dressed early and we had a breakfast sent up to the rooms. Grover took us to the lawyer’s office and then they took us to the police station where the reporters were already assembled. At first they were not interested as we got out of the car but then saw the main lawyer and recognised Kelly. That got the cameras flashing but they ignored me, much to my amazement.

I left them to it and went into the police station and the duty sergeant told me to stay out of the way as a media circus was coming through when they had finished outside. I stood with him and we watched as the media realised that the one person they wanted to see wasn’t there. The sergeant made the comment that maybe he had got scared and done a runner. I replied that I was not scared and would be happy to talk with the media if they bothered to ask. He shook with laughter and pointed to the picture behind me taken at the protest with the caption ‘Dangerous woman wanted for questioning’. I asked him if I could have a copy for my scrapbook and he took it off the wall, folded it and gave it to me. He picked up his phone and dialled a number, saying “That mad woman you wanted to speak to is down at the counter, guv.”

A uniformed inspector came through the door, took a quick look at me and said “Where the bloody hell is she, then?” and there was a nod in my direction as I stood angelically beside him. “You! Impossible.” He cried “Who are the press tormenting then?” I said it was Kelly, the other girl from the march, with Sallys’ lawyers who were supposed to be looking after me but seemed to have been side-tracked. He got a bunch of uniforms outside to take charge and it wasn’t long before we were all in a meeting room giving our statements. The consensus from the police was that it was all sorted out and that I was clear to go, with a caution, but that I did make a very good woman. I thought there was a guy in Newcastle who thought that as well, from personal experience.

Back outside the press had mostly gone and the couple that had hung on got a scoop picture of Kelly and me coming out of the police station, hand in hand. They also got a scoop when it was revealed that I was, in fact, the Bertram Granger that they wanted to speak to. I gave them a reasonable story about the protest, from my point of view, and we told them that Kelly and I were not ‘on the run’ but had gone north to visit her father. Said father now turned up. He took Kelly to his car after thanking the legal team and I then saw my mother looking around her. I went over and said “Hello, Mum, don’t you recognise your own offspring, then?”

She gave a little squeal and cried “Bog, is that really you. You look so stylish and the black hair suits you.” We hugged and I pulled her over to meet Kelly and her father. I told her that I would be moving to Newcastle to take on a good job but would keep in touch, especially when the wedding came around. She said, in a low voice “You’re not marrying Kesso the Lesso are you?” I said that the lesso bit was just a passing phase and that we were deeply in love. Jim was very nice and told my mother that she had a very talented and caring son, to which my mother gave me an old-fashioned look. We took her home in the car and they waited while I looked around my old room and decided that there wasn’t much of the old me I wanted to take into the future. With a small bag in my hand I went back down and kissed my mother, telling her that the girls can do what they wanted with what was left, and we got back into the car and drove away.

I asked Grover if we could go via the courier office and when I walked inside my boss said “Afternoon, lad, do you want a job done, then?” I laughed and told him I was here for my wages and he said “Bloody hell, lad, you do scrub up well and the short hair is a proper job.” He called the lads to see me and they, too, were amazed by my new look. They had a picture from the paper tacked on the wall so I called Kelly in and we both signed it for them. No-one noticed that I had put Bonnie Granger and she had signed Kelly Clyde. The guys had collected a few pounds for me and I thanked them for their support and friendship before we left.

And so my time as a woman was over and my time as a ship designer, husband and father started. My family joined me and my new son when my very proud father-in-law introduced his beautiful daughter Kelly to name our first luxury yacht when we launched it. Officially it was the Belvedere Ocean Going Grande Yacht but, in house we called the project ‘Boggy 1’.

Marianne G 2021