A New Style of Education

by Karen Page

Part 52

Time has come to start looking at why David/Jayne is getting sick.

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Part 52

Friday 6th January 2006

Immigration Manor had only been visiting for a month, but it seemed a lot longer. In that time so much had happened and we all knew that we'd made some firm friendships. However, as Mr Hobson had reminded us at breakfast, most good things must come to an end. In some respects I didn't see this as an end, but just a change. Sure, they wouldn't be at the same school, but we knew who they were now and they wouldn't get away from us that easily! Jessica and Sam would be back soon for our affirmation, and I wouldn't be surprised if we did another joint trip within the next four years.

There were quite a few tears as we all gathered in the entrance hall. Everything seemed so bare with all the Christmas decorations removed. We'd all said our year goodbyes, but now there was time to say 'so long' to friends in other years. My first target was Matilda. I don't really know why as we'd only just seen each other late yesterday afternoon while discussing the configurations for the new cross-site video conferencing facility with Julia and RJ. Initially this would be for calls between the year common rooms, but eventually the PC's in our bedrooms would be included.

"Have a safe trip," I wished, giving her and Nellie a huge hug. I then did the same to Mary Beth and Samantha, who seemed a bit surprised. "You'll be glad to know that June isn't driving the coach."

"Thank goodness." It sounded like her biggest prayer had just been answered.

"Hey, I thought you said that because you were small that you'd done really well at the potholing."

"Oh sure, I did okay at it and it was fun, but looking back, I haven't been so scared since coming to this school."

That was so qualified that I began to wonder what other things had happened before she joined the school. I knew of her father's abuse, but it sounded like there was a lot more than that.

There were many more goodbyes. The hardest were with the Manor beta team. We'd done a lot of activities together before Russia and the bonding brought by a shared experience like that had brought us closer in ways that hadn't happened with the others.

I was back with the rest of year-one to watch them eventually board the coaches. I don't think Mr Moore thought he would ever get them moving. It wasn't as hard to see Jessica and Sam go as I'd thought, possibly because I knew they would be back for our affirmation. I think the whole of Immigration Manor wanted to say bye to Martha and Erika.

As the coaches disappeared there was a silence. I didn't hear any crying, but it felt as if fifty hearts had broken. Nobody moved and just kept watching the drive in some vain hope that they would return.

"Lessons will start after lunch," Mr Hobson called, breaking our trance. "In the meantime, please put any excess furniture for your year's common room into the entrance hall where they will be stored for future use. Year leaders, I'll see you all in my office in thirty minutes."

That got us all going again. Sorting out the furniture seemed so final. They were gone and there wasn't even a day or two of mourning. In some ways it seemed a bit harsh, and there were a few tears as we moved out what had been the favourite settees for some of the Manor students. We did keep Jessica's and Sam's normal settee, knowing they would be back. At the end though, we did have a lot more space. I'd forgotten how cramped it had seemed when they'd first arrived.

Helen and I were a bit sweaty when we went to the meeting. I know women don't refer to it as sweat, but that is exactly what it was. All that moving of furniture had left us in need of a shower. Perhaps in hindsight we should have cleaned up before this meeting, but hindsight is a wonderful thing.

"It's at times like this that I wish my office had windows," joked Mr Hobson. It looked like he had been busy moving things, as he wasn't as pristine as normal. Nor were any of the other students.

"We could come back in fifteen minutes," Stacy offered.

"I think with us all crowding in like this, that we would soon be back to the original situation, so let's press on. First off, I want to thank you all for your hard work over the last month. Having Immigration Manor here was fun, but I know it put a strain on everyone. Hopefully the next few months will be a bit easier, but there are a few things that I thought I would share with you.

"Firstly, we have just been notified that Ofsted* plans to do an inspection sometime between now and Easter. We don't know when that will be yet. They can do it with a few days notice, or they can do it as a surprise and just turn up. It used to be easier as inspections were four or five day and always started on a Monday. Now they only do a two day inspection, so might arrive at any day. We will have a bit of notice, as they will have to stop at the gate.

"I hope it doesn't happen during our affirmation," fretted Helen.

"That would make an interesting report. Secondly, we are at the early planning to play a few pieces at a school. We haven't done a school demonstration for a few years, so it'll be something new for years one and two. Finally, the no contact rule."

The room had been quite jovial and just the mention of that rule caused a change in atmosphere. There was a bit of tension in the air as we all wondered if something had gone wrong.

"Over the last few years there has been an increase in acceptance of the transgendered. So a few months ago we started an experiment to see if a pupil who'd left Hayfield a while ago could visit parents without causing issues to the school. We chose a pupil who'd left five years ago. He'd been writing occasionally, and was on good terms with his parents. His parents were initially very surprised to find they'd now got a son instead of a daughter, but so far things have gone well. So far there hasn't been any association between the transition and school and there is no danger to anybody here. Since this does potentially have huge ramification for everyone, we will be taking things slowly, so don't expect a sudden change in policy."

As Mr Hobson made this last announcement a change came over the six year representatives. There was a mixture of relief that something was happening on a policy that nobody liked, but there was also worry about what might happen if things went wrong.

Tim was the first to ask the question most of us were thinking. "Will there be trials where the gap between leaving and contact is shorter?"

"Probably. Let's see how this first one does for a bit longer and we will then start to introduce some others to see if the results are similar. We then can start to see what issues we have in common which will help refine this strategy. Any other questions?"

There weren't any.

"I'll be making an announcement on all but the contact rule tomorrow at breakfast. So if you think of any questions between then and now; please come and see me."

"Why not the no-contact rule?" asked Ingrid.

"It's too early yet. You've all demonstrated your maturity and ability to handle responsibility. I wanted you all to know about the experiment, just in case. I'd hate to give hope to the whole school and then have to take it away if things didn't go too well with the trial. If things continue to go well, then you can be sure it will be announced to everyone."

Oh great! We just managed to tell the whole year the truth about me being in the Beta team, and now I have a new secret.

The day went well with us all settling back into the routine of lessons and then it was the weekend. Why we started lessons on a Friday afternoon was beyond me. It would have been nicer to have the Friday afternoon off and start again on the Monday. On the other hand, if we'd had the Friday afternoon off, then I might have been having my chat with Rachel earlier. I wasn't looking forward to it and was glad it was on Saturday and not today.

Mrs Russell brought the afternoon's practice to order. "Welcome back to orchestra practice. You've had a week without seeing me, so I hope you haven't forgotten how to play. For our final trip of this school year we will be playing the Beethoven and Shubert symphonies that we originally practiced oh so long ago. However, you will now have Lewis conducting you, so please pay attention to his interpretation."

I don't think any of us hadn't practiced; making music was too much part of our essence. One of the good things with the American's gone is the practice rooms weren't as pre-booked as they had been. It was nice to practice in a room meant for that, instead of having to resort to my bedroom.

Lewis did have his own style, which was a little like Roberta's, and had obviously been practicing. He was still slightly wooden at times, but the orchestra supported him. I think he'd had a lot of chats with Roberta from the Manor, as he had certainly improved from his first concert in France. I think we'd all improved which I suppose isn't a surprise when you are playing with such talented people. All the hours of practice, wouldn't have hurt, either.

At breakfast, the next day, Lewis had a small smile on his face as Mr Hobson announced that we were going to do a small demonstration concert at a school. I wasn't the only one who noticed and after the announcements were finished we all pounced.

It didn't faze him and I think he was expecting it. "Hey, you lot sometimes have secrets. This one was mine. I had to know beforehand to practice."

"So what are we going to play?" asked Martha.

"You get to play your violin." When she gave a threatening look, Lewis continued. "You'll have to wait until Sunday to find out. Oh, that reminds me, Jill, after we've finished breakfast, there should be a gift waiting for you outside our common-room door."

Jill's eyes sparkled at the thought of a gift. "Really? What?"

Lewis just laughed and shook his head. It was obvious that he was enjoying teasing us. Jill seemed very eager to eat her breakfast and had to be reminded a few times that if she didn't slow down that she would get indigestion. She did finish first and then gave us all looks to hurry us along.

When we eventually finished, there, waiting outside our common-room door was an instrument case with a huge red bow around it. It had attracted the attention of some of the other years, who found it a rather odd occurrence and something they wanted to watch. So by the time Jill got to pick it up, there was quite a crowd watching.

Jill struggled with the bow, but eventually opened the case. "You all know how to embarrass someone, don't you?"

"So what is it?" Yvonne called out.

"Seems someone thought I needed another instrument. I've been given a Cor Anglais, which is a bigger version of the oboe. It has a deeper and much richer tone."

She quickly assembled it and showed it to all of us. At first glance it looked a bit like her standard oboe, but it had a crooked mouth area, it was longer, with a bell end.

"Are you going to play it for us too?"

"Probably tomorrow," she blushed. A lot of us had never actually seen a Cor Anglais, so we were all interested in getting a closer look. Jill was a good sport and was happy to show it off.

Unfortunately I didn't have time to hang around as I had a scheduled "chat" with Rachel. What a thing to do on a Saturday morning! This chat was slightly different from my normal ones as this was alone. My chats with Rachel were normally with Helen and those with Edith, about Russia, were with Stacy. Today, it was going to be a few hours with just Rachel.

I'm glad that neither Helen nor Stacy are going to be with me. I have this feeling that we will be covering issues I really don't want to talk about; embarrassing things. No matter how many times Rachel, and others, remind me, I have trouble convincing myself that the shrinks aren't judgemental. There are things I don't like talking about. I have to live with what I find. I wonder if I'll have the guts to tell Helen?

"Come on in and take a seat on the settee." Rachel's greeting was way too cheerful. Her brightly coloured top shouldn't have been allowed when someone was about to face an inquisition. Perhaps she'll put on a black cap once she is through with me. Lord have mercy upon my soul. Rachel was still messing with something at her desk and called across the room, "The announcement about your affirmation went well."

Small talk wasn't exactly what I was expecting and certainly not what I'd hoped for. Perhaps if I kept up the small talk we wouldn't have time for the proper discussion? No sooner had that thought entered my head I was dismissing it as laughable. If the discussion didn't happen, Rachel would only bring me back another time. In some ways I was surprised that I'd lasted this long without Rachel asking for this chat, as it had originally come up months ago when we broke one of the schools few rules.

Normally the coffee table by the settees had several boxes of tissues. Today the tissues were joined by other things, but none of it was making me feel enthused. There was a plate of ginger biscuits, a jug of flat cola, and several other things which I had no idea what they were. My heart sank as she came across carrying a stack of sick bowls that she'd probably acquired from one the nurses.

"You're not filling me with confidence."

At least she had the temerity to give an apologetic smile. "It's better to be prepared."

"Dib-dib-dib." I made the old scout salute. Perhaps I was being unfair, but I didn't really want this talk to happen.

Rachel didn't bat an eyelid and just took her seat. "You're not going to get out of the chat that way."

This morning was definitely getting worse. Perhaps I should have pre-programmed my PDA to set off the fire alarm, but the way Rachel was acting, I probably would get into serious trouble after she'd talked to me about my sickness. If she knew how I felt, she didn't say anything.

I sighed and decided to change tack. May be if I got it over with quickly then it wouldn't feel too bad. "Sorry. I'm just not looking forward to this chat."

"If it's any conciliation, neither am I."

That did surprise me, and also fill me with dread. How bad could this chat be if even Rachel wasn't looking forward to it? In reflection, there was one thing that had held true; Rachel was a good person and only wanted to help me think through things or work past issues. She'd never done anything to hurt me.

"Sorry?" I couldn't help myself. I had to know why.

She gave a wry smile and shook her head slightly. "Probably not for the reason you aren't looking forward to it. I don't like seeing anyone suffer and I know you don't like these chats. However, we seem to have avoided discussing this as long as we can. Whatever is going on has already made you physically sick more than once, and come close on several other occasions. The other day, Stacy said something to you which caused the reaction. Am I right in assuming that you've come up with a theory?"

"Yes." I grabbed a biscuit and nibbled. It wasn't because I was feeling sick, but rather it gave me something to do while I worked out how to explain things. "It seems I get sick when I think there is a chance of having sex."

"I see." This didn't seem to faze her. After a small ponder she asked, "Why?"

"I've no idea. I thought that was what you'd tell me."

Rachel ignored that jibe. "So why weren't you sick in Moscow? You admitted Stacy caused you to be aroused."

I'd forgotten that Stacy and I had told her about not feeling sick then. I think being so sick soon after had made me just concentrate on that.

I protested, "I don't think about having sex with every girl I meet."

"Of course not. Now, since you know that the possibility of sex is making you sick how has this affected you?"

"I suppose I know more about what to look out for. Just knowing the signs can give me a bit of control."

I'd hoped that this would be the end of it. I knew what was causing me to be sick, so what more could be done? I would soon be back downstairs with Helen and I could relax. How could I have been so wrong?

"It's good that you know the cause and it is helping you, but vomiting isn't a standard reaction to thoughts on sex. Sure, some people have different reactions but being ill isn't a common one."

"Is there something wrong with me?" I sank back on the settee, feeling disheartened.

Rachel was quick to reassure. "No, you are you. It just seems an extreme reaction and I'd like to see if there is something we can do to help you."

"I thought you said the other day that there wasn't anything physically wrong with me?"

"There isn't. However there are times when our bodies react in unusual ways and it might be due to, what appears to be, at first look, totally unrelated factors. For instance, why do people have nightmares, or sleep walk? Often it is due to fears, anxiety, stress or other things which might be able to be sorted by finding the root cause."

"I was never ill like this before coming to the school."

"If I remember right, the first time you felt ill was after you'd slept in the same bed with Helen.

I nodded.

"Prior to coming here had you ever got aroused before?"

I reluctantly shook my head. "Are you saying I'm gay or something?"

"No, I'm just showing you that you might never have had this reaction before because you were never in a situation which caused it. Additionally, you are going through puberty, which can cause all sorts of new feelings and emotions."

"I've started puberty?"

"Haven't you noticed your penis has got larger, you have hair under your armpit, and have pubic hair?"

I blushed and nodded. I remember the first time I'd been Jayne properly and how Helen had made sure I shaved under my arms. How did Rachel talk about such things and keep a straight face. I just wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. This was embarrassing beyond belief.

"Didn't you do sex education in your previous school?"

"Yeah, but it was embarrassing and some of the lads kept disrupting the lesson by making silly comments. Mostly they just concentrated more on the pregnancy and birth stuff."

"Your parents never talked about it?"

I laughed at that one. "My parents would never talk about stuff like that". My embarrassment then reached new depths as Rachel spent the next hour making sure I knew the basics of male and female puberty.

"So how does this affect me being Jayne? Won't it be impossible when my voice breaks and I have to shave?"

"Does Andy have trouble being Brenda?"

"I suppose not."

"It won't be as easy as it is now, but it is possible."

"So you don't give medication to us to stop us going through puberty."

Rachel looked horrified. "No. The only people who get medication which affects puberty are pupils like Emma and Lewis who are certified transgendered. For instance, the medication that Emma is on stops her from having a male puberty and lets her go through a female one."

"Okay, so if puberty is normal, and I'm going through it, why am I getting sick when I think about having sex?"

Rachel shook her head. "If I knew that I would have told you, and we wouldn't have to find out. Each person reacts to situations differently. I once knew someone who would sneeze when they thought about sex in the abstract."

"Sneeze?"

"Sneeze. However, it never occurred when they were about to have sex or when in romantic situation. It didn't have a big impact on them, and was just one of those strange quirks."

"So why are you worrying about me now? I thought you would be happy that I can't have sex, since it is against the school rules."

"It is quite an effective barrier," agreed Rachel and my heart sank. Would she not help? "But it is having a larger impact. Stacy only had to implant the thought in your mind and you were spewing like Mount Vesuvius. There is one more thing that is generally true. Teenagers think about sex, and I don't want you erupting all over the school. It isn't good for you and also makes a mess everywhere."

At the reminder of what Stacy had said, I started to feel a bit queasy and grabbed the sick bowl. Closing my eyes and taking some deep breaths seemed to help a bit and the feeling soon faded.

"Don' worry, I'm not going to ask what Stacy said, but it must have been something."

"Stacy has a wild imagination and very descriptive vocabulary. Don't worry though, I might have a crush, but Helen means so much more."

"Have another ginger biscuit, it might help." I braced myself. If Rachel was offering me something to help control queasiness then there must be bad things coming. "How do you see your relationship with Helen in five years?"

In five years I would have been out of school for a year. This didn't seem to be a very hard question and not something to worry about sickness with. "Still with Helen. It would be too early for children or stuff like that. I'm not sure if we would go to university or go straight into employment."

"So you would like to have children? How many?"

"I've always dreamed of two; a boy and a girl."

"That's nice. Sit back and close your eyes. .... That's it. Now think back to the revue. Remember that dress Helen was wearing and the first time you saw her wearing it."

Rachel must be dense if she thinks I could forget such an occasion. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the dress and how she looked in it. That dress was just elegant, but Helen just looked so beyond belief. I don't think she could look any better for our affirmation.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine. She looked stunning. Her dress was just one thing. But her hair and makeup just set it off perfectly. Not only did she put so much effort into the dancing, but she went all out to make sure she looked perfect too."

"What was your reaction when you saw her?"

"I wanted us to be in each other's arms. However as we got close, Andy, well Brenda really, warned me to behave. I lost my balance and slipped onto the floor. Brenda got a good laugh out of that one."

"I bet she did," replied Rachel quite dryly. "So, after the individual revues you went back to your room to get ready for the finale. What happened then?"

"I took a few pictures of Helen dressed the way she was. I wanted something to remember it by and to remind her how stunning she can look. After a bit of a kiss and cuddle we went to our individual rooms to change. Helen was having trouble unzipping her dress, so she asked for my help. As her dress slipped off, I noticed the special underwear she was wearing."

I broke off, realising how I felt. The memories of how I'd felt were too vivid. I took some deep breaths and tried to quell the rising bile. It seemed to work, but left a nasty burning sensation in my throat which I solved by a hasty drink of the flat cola.

Rachel didn't say anything, but just sat there. Did she expect me to continue? After a moment's pause, I concluded she did. I felt hurt that she wanted me to carry on. "I rushed to the toilet and thankfully was sick into the bowl, rather than on the floor. At my prompting, Helen went and got changed."

I frowned; something was nagging me. I went over the event again, but came up empty. Each time I thought about it, I seemed a bit less ill. I wonder if that was because I was expecting it? Having failed to find the issue, I thought about the concert and then on to when I went to see the nurse.

My mood quickly changed from being upset that she wanted me to relive such a traumatic event to one of fury. I jumped off the settee and stood there, my fists clenched. Rachel didn't move and just looked enquiringly at me. Looking at her just made me feel angrier so I turned and looked at the rain lash against the window. Eventually, I calmed down enough to speak.

"You knew." It came out rather bitterly rather than the raw anger I'd felt only a short time earlier.

"I knew what?" She sounded so innocent.

"What was causing me to be sick. When I left the school hospital after the revue you mentioned something about me being okay because Helen had changed her underwear. You knew then and you still made me go through this."

"I didn't know. I suspected there was something to do with sex, as this and the previous occurrences both had that element. However, I didn't know if it was just thought of sex, attempting to have sex, getting aroused or something else. Obviously that time, the thing that stood out as different was what Helen was wearing. I presumed you would have been sick earlier if it was to do with the outer costume, so I guessed it was her underwear."

I eventually started to calm down and retook my place on the settee. After a few sips of cola and a lot more deep breaths, I felt ready to continue. "So how do I get cured from this?"

"It depends on what the underlying cause is. People don't often get sick over the thought of having sex, so there must be something; we just have to find what it is. Our next sessions will investigate what could be underlying this reaction."

"Sessions?" My heart sank. I wanted to be cured, but I didn't like the way Rachel said 'sessions'. It sounded like I was going to be seeing Rachel every day.

"I don't have a magical wand to discover why you get ill. We have made big progress today in that we now know one of the triggers. But don't panic, I'm not going to recommend you come daily. Even weekly might be too frequent, as some of the questions could be ones you want to think about."

Having to think about things sounded even worse, but I don't think it could be worse than my nightmare of being sick over Helen.

Rachel continued, "One question which will give us something to think about. The other month when you and Helen broke the rules, you said you felt sick and Helen made you keep your underwear on. Did you feel sick as you continued your exploration of Helen?"

I laughed internally at the way Rachel was being polite in her description of what we'd got up to. Normally Rachel was a lot blunter and wouldn't have shied away from a rather clinical description using all the proper terms. I then turned my mind back to that night and blushed as I remembered that wonderful experience.

"No, I didn't feel sick."

Rachel must have caught a small smile that unconsciously appeared on my face. "Just because we are talking about what makes you feel sick, doesn't give you any rights to break the school rules."

"Yes, Miss."

Rachel consulted her PDA and smiled. "This is perfect timing. Helen will be setting off back in a minute, so why don't we continue this chat in two weeks? It should give us both time to ponder why the thought of playing pokey makes you ill, but other forms of intimacy, like you performing oral sex on Helen, doesn't."

"You what?"

"Oral sex is-"

I interrupted. "No. What's this about Helen coming back? She wasn't planning on going anywhere."

"She wasn't. This was a surprise thing for her and Andy. Edith took them to the shooting range. They weren't told before, so it didn't cause them, or their partners, any anxiety. You can meet Helen at the rear car park.

Not waiting to see if Rachel had anything else to say, I rushed out of the door. I hope that Helen hasn't reacted badly to this experience. I know she's recovering from the experience in Moscow, but is she ready for this?

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* Ofsted. The Office for Standards in Education, is a UK government agency that inspect schools, examining how well they are run and that teaching standards are of a high enough standard.

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