Drew Goes South Chapter 20 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

That night, after quite a busy day, Drew fell asleep as soon as he touched the pillow. He dreamt of cycling around Wiltshire and Dorset. He had a nice touring bike, which was well loaded with camping gear and his clothes. Maddy was with him, and her bike was similarly loaded. She wasn't as interested as he was in all the ancient monuments, but she humoured him.

“Come on Gabs, can we go a bit slower. This bike in't ‘alf ‘eavy.” She was puffing and panting as they pedalled in the sunshine. Drew could feel the sun on his body, the crop-bra top allowed lots of exposure, and he'd have to remember to rub some more sun cream on his face, arms, body and legs. This time he'd have to be careful not to get it all under his nails, which were long and painted.

They stopped for a drink, near Avebury circle. “You know Mad, I've wanted to do this ride for a few years now, but the GB women's team wouldn't release me.”

“I know Gabs, but coming second to Nicole Cooke in the road race was worth it.” He began to rub the cream on his face and arms. “Don't forget to do the top of your boobs, above your bra, or it will peel like last year.”

He awoke rubbing his chest above the neckline of his nightdress. “More cream Mad… What the hell am I doing? Geez, I'm rubbing cream on real boobs…this Gaby stuff has got to stop! I can't tell what's real and what's a dream, anymore.”

He thought for a moment. 'To come second to Nicole Cooke, would be nice, nearly as nice as having her come second to me! Now that would be good.' He smiled to himself, then suddenly thought, 'Geez, what am I thinking? I'm not a girl, I must stop thinking these things. I am not a girl.'

Sadly, modern research has shown that if you want to stop thinking about something, you phrase it differently. So Drew should have been saying to himself, “I am a boy.” Instead, what he was doing was reinforcing a negative. Consequently, upon sleeping, he had another girly dream.

This time he was in the cinema with Harry, who was sitting with his arm around him. As Harry bent forward for a kiss, Drew as Gaby, offered the popcorn only to have Harry pull it out of his hands and put it on the floor. Harry then continued his progress towards a kiss. Drew tried to push him off, but Harry was too strong. He felt Harry's breath on his face and then his lips upon his own and something strange happened; he stopped struggling and his stomach did funny things, pleasant funny things.

He woke sweating and breathless, with his pillow clasped in his arms and over his face. He threw it down and walked off to the bathroom feeling very strange emotions. Just what was happening to him?

After using the toilet, he wiped his face. It woke him up a little but he felt cooler. It also helped to distance him from his confusing dreams, about which he'd prefer not to think. Instead, he tried to reflect on his day out.

It had been a good one; he'd enjoyed Salisbury and Stonehenge, not to mention Old Sarum. He had a vague recollection of something about ‘rotten boroughs'. What was it now? Oh yes, they were corrupt parliamentary seats which had hardly anyone living in them, yet returned an MP at every election. It was back in the eighteenth century, but even so, it was very wrong.

Despite all his other foibles, Drew had an enormous sense of right and wrong, and of justice, some of which had caused him to paint attack the house that morning. Being an adolescent, also made it seem more black and white than it would become as he grew older when the world tends to appear in much more shades of grey. It had seemed unjust or plain wrong, that no one should be called to account for the attack upon him.

In view of that and the police response - to warn him off, he felt even more angry. He wanted to mount another attack, but that would anger Carol, and then his race would be under threat. He wanted to ride in that because he felt sure that Cheesecake would be riding. He would also be disappointing a few people who had said they wanted to see him ride. He fretted, it wasn't fair, but neither was life.

Thinking about his predicament, being in Gaby mode for a few more days; he'd just have to grin and bear it. It was so important that Gorgonzola was beaten by a girl, or thought he was. It would be doubly humiliating, maybe even more as it would be the second time. Drew savoured this for a few moments; it was going to be good. He then went back to bed, grabbed bunny and went off to sleep.

The first thing he knew about the morning was Maddy bouncing in and climbing into bed with him. He did not object. “Move over,” she said quietly, “Oh that's nice and warm.” She then cuddled into the back of him.

“What awegonnadotodaythen?” she said to the back of his head.

“Like; what did you say?” he said turning over on his back.

“Whatawegonnadotoday?” she rattled off as quickly again.

“Mad, will you talk English?” he said.

“What–are-we-going–to–do–to-day?” she said exaggerating the pronunciation of each word. Then giggling.

“I thought that's what you said.” he paused as if in deep contemplation, then continued, “Dunno. What d'you wanna do? Hey, that like rhymes.” It was his turn to chuckle at his own joke.

“It's nice cuddling here with my best girlfriend,” said Maddy, giving him a squeeze.

“I'd rather be your boyfriend,” he replied.

“I like you as either, but you're nicer as Gabs.”

“What do you mean, I'm nicer? I'm exactly the same … well apart from the clothes.”

“It isn't about clothes Gabs. It's like your whole being is different when you're being a girl. You aren't just a boy in skirts, you're, you know, a girl.”

“But I'm not. I'm a boy. Underneath all this nonsense,” he said poking his false breasts, “I'm still a red-blooded male.”

“Only if you remember to take the iron tablets,” giggled Maddy.

“Very funny, I don't think,” he was starting to feel irritated. He was so fond of Maddy, but she seemed to spend much of her time mocking him. Some of it was playful, and he laughed, some of it was hurtful and then he cried, or wanted to.

“Why is everyone trying to turn me into a girl? I even dream that people are doing it to me.”

“Waddya mean?” asked Madd. He then related his dreams of the night, the holiday and the episode in the cinema.

“So you came second to Nicole Cooke? Well that must have been a nice dream.”

“It was and it wasn't. If I was cycling to my full potential as a man, I should be able to beat her reasonably easily. She is good, but men cyclists are faster and stronger.”

“Yeah, so?”

“It was that I was part of the British women's team.”

“Yeah, so?” reiterated Maddy.

“So, I'd like to eventually make the men's team.”

“You'd have more chance with the women's team.”

“That isn't the point Mad. I'm not a flippin' girl, am I?”

“Well nobody's perfect,” said Maddy, dissolving into a giggle fit.

“If you're going to be silly, I'm getting up,” he was angry but defeated, there were tears in his eyes as he rose from the bed and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he saw a tearful girl looking back. That was when he started to cry, hating himself for being so girly as to cry, yet he couldn't stop.

Sometime later, he wasn't sure how much later, Carol knocked on the bathroom door. “Gaby, are you okay in there?” It seemed to break his trance of misery.

“Yeah, Auntie Carol, I'm just going to have a shower.”

“Well don't take too long kiddo, I'll make some fresh tea.”

“Yeah, okay.” He drew off the nightdress and saw an even more female-looking figure in the mirror. He shrugged despondently and got in the shower. He felt quite down.

After his shower, which refreshed him a little, he dressed in shorts and tee shirt, then went for some breakfast. Maddy was now in the vacant bathroom. “What's the matter Gaby?” asked Carol placing a mug of tea on the table.

“Nothing,” he replied reaching for the tea.

“When you spend half an hour in the bathroom crying, there has to be something wrong.”

“I didn't did I?” he asked astonished.

“Nearly, so what's the problem?”

“It's nothing, honest,” he insisted.

“If it's so little, then you can tell me about it, can't you?”

“Maybe, I'm like Maddy is, before her, you know what?”

Carol smiled broadly, “Gaby I know you make a very pretty girl, but if you start having periods, you'll make the Guinness Book of Records.”

“I didn't mean that, I meant just I feel down for no obvious reasons. I feel weepy, for no reason. That's all.”

“So it's your hormones, is it?” asked Carol, almost mockingly, because it was absurd to her, but something held her back. This child was almost more girl than boy, so was it so outlandish that his body could be having hormone fluctuations? Maybe it wasn't so crazy. “Do you get any other symptoms?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Pains in your tummy, swellings there or in your breasts, tenderness, that sort of thing?”

“I don't know, sometimes my tummy and my chest feels a bit swollen, well more sort of tight and tender.”

“Have you spoken to your mother about it?”

“No.”

“And you get some mood swings?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you noticed how often it happens? Is it regular or spasmodic?”

“I haven't noticed.”

“Well can you make a note of it from now on?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I'm serious, Gaby, please do this for me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Breakfast?”

“Just some cereal, I'm not that hungry.” As Drew said this, Carol began to wonder if he was starting some illness.

“You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah, I'll be okay.”

She walked around to him and gave him a hug. “Gaby Bond, you are one of the nicest kids I know,” she said as she held him, which started him sniffing again.

“Is this a private hug or can anyone join?” piped a voice from outside them. It was Maddy standing in the doorway. “Well?” she stood with her hands on her hips.

“Gaby and I were just having a little hug. You can join if you want to.”

“ ‘Kay,” answered Maddy, throwing her arms around both Drew and her mother. They stayed holding each other for a couple of minutes, when Maddy asked, “So, what we doin' today?”

“There was no verb in that sentence,” scolded Carol.

“Wha …” replied Maddy, making faces at Drew.

“Please speak properly; honestly, Gaby, I spend hours trying to teach her to speak properly and she sounds like something from the cat's home.”

“Snob,” replied Maddy, making more faces.

“It isn't snobbery at all, I'm just trying to bring you up properly. Who knows where life might take you and speaking properly will stand you in good stead.”

“Yeah, yeah …” cheeked Maddy.

“You are not too old for me to warm your bottom, young lady,” warned Carol.

“Can we talk about something else?” said Drew trying to diffuse the situation, “Like what we are going to do, today?”

“We could go to Wells, or even Bath,” said Carol.

“I've already ‘ad a shower, don't need no bath,” said Maddy deliberately trying to windup her mother.

“It's a bit late for Bath, we could get the train there from Dorchester, but it takes a couple of hours, maybe another day before we leave. Wells is pretty. It has a lovely cathedral, one of the most beautiful in England although it's relatively small.”

“That makes it a city, right?” asked Maddy.

“Yes, it's a city, albeit a small one.”

“So they have shops, right?”

“Madeleine Peters, there is more to life than shopping.”

“There is? I demand a recount.”

“Do you think I am made of money?”

“No, but Daddy is,” she quipped back.

“I'll tell him that, he'll stop your allowance.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don't push it, girl,” snapped Carol wagging her finger at Maddy.

“Are we going to Wells then?” said Drew, interrupting the conflict, “I quite fancy that. According to the atlas, Wookey Hole caves are nearby, can we go there Auntie Carol?”

“I don't see why not,” so they did.

They drove to Wells, visited the cathedral which impressed Drew quite favourably. He loved the mechanical clock with its jousting knights. He asked if the ‘scissor arch' was modern because it looked so. He was surprised to learn it was medieval, the tower starting to sink while they were still building it.

Maddy had an hour to flit around the shops, so she was happy too. Lunch followed, then off to the caves.

They'd been to caves before, so while they were interesting it was nothing new. The complex has an exhibition of paper making, and they had a go at making some rag paper. Drew bought some for his mum, then maybe she'd write him the odd letter.

They got back early enough for Drew to go for a training run while Carol prepared the evening meal. Maddy was undecided what to do, and Drew seemed uninterested in having her with him. She wondered if he was deliberately avoiding her, or if he needed time to himself. She decided to believe the latter, which was probably true.

He set off with a good hours' work in mind. He would avoid Weymouth altogether, then he would be less likely to encounter Cheeseman or ‘ The Addams Family'. He decided he'd keep an eye on the odometer and when it came up twelve miles he'd head back.

He rode round the Dorchester by-pass, and off to the west towards Bridport, turning south towards Abbotsbury and then at Portesham, he turned back up over the ridgeway and the steep ascent north towards Dorchester.

While climbing the hill, which he found harder on his own bike than the carbon one, he overtook a couple of mountain bikers pushing their bikes, who cheered him on as he went by. One of them shouted, “engine failure,” and laughed, but so intent was he on his cadence to beat this hill, that he didn't hear them.

At the top, his lungs were heaving and his legs aching, but he got there. A nasty climb, but he did it, and he allowed his sweaty body to relax a little while later as he cruised down the other side. The adrenalin had flowed, and he was up for anything.

Following his nose, he came past Hardy's monument (Admiral Thomas Hardy, Nelson's flag captain), down into Winterbourne St Martin when he turned left and up another smaller hill back to the main A35 at a spot known locally as ‘ monkey's jump'. He caught the waft of the exhaust fumes from a certain well-known fast food establishment, and decided he didn't fancy one at all. In fact, it might put him off burgers for some time.

He continued on down the bypass towards the A37, where he turned right and on into Dorchester, with a ‘steeper than it looks' approach to a crossroads called, ‘Top o' Town', here he turned left, and went down the old A35, High West and High East Streets, passing the County Museum where the streets change from one to the other, and where they'd listened to the lecture on Maiden Castle.

He'd been able to see Maiden Castle from several of the higher vantage points, and he felt happy that he knew roughly where he was most of the time. With the hour now approaching, he'd forgotten about his original plan, he saw he'd completed his usual twenty-five miles and still had two or three to go.

Following the now London Road, as High East Street becomes, he went to the easternmost end of the bypass and went down it, turning off at the intersection for Wareham. This is quite a steep turn-off, and he dropped a couple of gears, as he completed the rise up to the Wareham Road.

Some twenty minutes later, he arrived back at the cottage. He was tired, sweaty and smelly but happy. He'd been doing what he did best, cycling with one hundred per cent effort. He completed thirty-two miles, with several hills and at an average speed of over twenty miles an hour. He felt quite pleased with himself. “Bring on Nicole,” he said to himself, as he put the bike away.

A quick shower and he became socially more acceptable. While Carol dished up her cottage pie and various vegetables, Drew showed Maddy where on the map, he'd ridden. She was impressed.

He'd thrown on shorts and tee shirt, but after eating she made him change into a skirt and top, before styling his still damp hair, she explained they were going to William's house for a ‘social'

“Which means what exactly?” he asked Maddy.

“Oh time for a quick snog and grope with Will, while you play with Harry in the bushes, and Mum gets squiffy on the home made plonk.”

“While I play what with Harry in the bushes?” he was watching her reflection in the mirror as she stood behind him.

“If you don't know, Gabs, perhaps it's time you found out,” smiled Maddy from behind him.

“I beg your pardon?” he said looking vexed.

“Granted,” she replied, smiling broadly.

“I'm not sure I should be talking about watching you and William, like getting it together,” he blushed.

“Why not, it's what girlfriends do with each other. Talk about boys and clothes and makeup. Talking of which, you need to do yours again.”

“But I keep telling you, I'm not a … ouch, careful, Mad, you're pulling it out at the roots.”

“We've had this conversation before, according to the rules, you are in Gaby mode for the duration of this holiday. I therefore treat you as a girl, and a real girl not some trans … whatever they call ‘em.”

“But it's not my fault....”

“I don't make the rules, I just keep to them. I suggest you do the same.”

“What do you mean, like neck with Harry? yuck.”

“Do whatever you think Gaby as a real girl would do in the circumstances. If that means kissing Harry, then do it. Neither you nor he will turn into frogs.”

“But I'm not … ouch, stop doing that will you?”

“For the moment, as far as I'm concerned, you are whether you like it or not, Harry obviously agrees with me, because he phoned to say he'd walk you over to William's house.”

“Oh no, he didn't did he?” Drew looked horrified.

“I didn't just make it up. As soon as he knew we'd be walking through the village, he offered to escort you.” Maddy looked at Drew's reflection growing redder in the mirror. “Actually, I think it's rather sweet, he's obviously completely gone on you.”

“Can't you tell him I've got plague, or something?”

“Which miraculously cures itself by the weekend?”

“Yeah, 24-hour plague, that's it,” said Drew clutching at straws.

“24-hour plague, don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing.”

“I could be the first to ever have caught it.”

“Why don't I just tell him you're pregnant?”

“What?”

“You heard me, shove a cushion up your jumper ‘n' I'll tell him you're up the duff.”

“How can I be pregnant? Be sensible.”

“Maybe, the same bloke you caught plague from gave you one for luck.”

“Maddy Peters, I cannot believe you at times."

“Try looking in the mirror kiddo, and while you do, put your makeup on,” she uttered her instructions and left the room.

Drew surveyed his appearance, his hair was up, frothing over the band which held it. Even without makeup, he looked female. Resigned to his fate, he sighed and began the application of cosmetics to make his features even more feminine.

As he finished Maddy reappeared and squirted him with perfume, “Cor Mad,” he spluttered, “I'll smell like a tart's nightdress.”

“I wouldn't know,” she retorted holding her nose up in the air, breaking into giggles as she left the room, “Better hope, Harry doesn't either or he might really get your number.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” called Drew to her vanishing shadow.

“Think about it,” was all she said, followed by more giggles.