Drew Goes South Chapter 19 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio

Drew donned his silk nightdress and cleaned his teeth. It had been a traumatic day by anyone's standards. He was tired and feeling a little down. Maddy was at her wicked worst, winding him up with her comments about him being so girly. It was too bad, it really was. Half the time she is criticising him for being too boyish while in Gaby mode, then in the next breath, pointing out how girlish he is. What's a boy, or for that matter, a girl, supposed to do?

Deciding he couldn't win in arguments with Maddy, he would concentrate on cycling. In that, he felt capable of holding his own with anyone. But her comments hurt him and he couldn't seem to let them go.

In the cinema, she implied that he was a girl. She wasn't embarrassing him by kissing someone in front of him, because she didn't see him as her boyfriend. Then to tell him, he was her best girlfriend…well! How was he supposed to feel? Emasculated?

It wasn't the actual word which sprang to Drew's fuddled and very tired mind, but it was what he meant. There were tears in his eyes as he went to sleep, feeling very alone and very confused about himself.

He couldn't recall any funny dreams when he awoke in the night, in fact all that was in his mind was, “I must remember to oil my chain or it'll go rusty.” He wasn't really in to the mechanics of bikes, his dad or the bloke at the shop looked after that, but he did do the minimal maintenance such as oiling a chain, checking tyres and brakes. “Geez, I'm even girly about my bikes. First thing Paul did when he had a new one was take it apart, ‘cos my dad had to help his dad reassemble it. I was of very limited help; probably more than Maddy would have been, but not much more.”

He lay there holding his bunny for company, curled up in a foetal position. He was aware of the feel of the nightdress, it was warm and sleek and he liked it. So far, it seemed the only consolation for all this. He thought of his mother, so far away. He hadn't told either her or his dad about the accident. Was it deliberate? Was it an accident?

He thought it was probably the former and he felt it was likely that horrible family, the ‘Meadows'. What really choked him however, was no one saw anything and that the ratbags would get away with it. His mood was changing from depressed despair to anger. “I might be girly, but I fight like a boy.” He said to himself, “And no one gets away with trying to frighten me.” A response was called for, a declaration of war might be a suitable one. Feeling happier with himself, he dozed off to sleep again.

He awoke early, it was half past five. Time for action. He rose and dressed as quietly as he could. Then down to the garage, put some oil on the chain – ‘3in1' – it would do until he got some better synthetic stuff; then off to Weymouth. He stopped to adjust the small package he had tucked under his jumper, then off again.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived outside the Meadows' house. Quite blatantly he walked up their front path, then pulled the package from his jumper, a paint spray. Two minutes later, he'd sprayed, ‘ Drug Dealer', in large letters, on the white painted front wall of the house. Then he casually got back on his bike, ‘gave them the finger', for the purposes of the close circuit TV, and rode back to the cottage. No one had missed him, so he went back to bed.

He was well into his Zzzzs when Maddy came in to rouse him, “Come on Gabs, wake up. The police are here.”

“What….?” It took a moment to sink in…..'police'…..oh shit! “The police are here?”

“Yes, that dishy PC and his little friend.”

“What do they want?”

“To speak to you.” She held up a dressing gown for him to wear over his nightdress, and led him down the stairs. His stomach was jumping somersaults.

PC Martin gave him the stern look. Drew knew what it was about. “I hear someone did a decorating job at the Meadows' house.”

Drew said nothing, but looked at the floor. It was something he had considered could happen.

“They said it was some girl on a bicycle. They had it on close circuit TV but wouldn't release the tape. I asked if it was the same girl they tried to kill by Radipole lake, and they withdrew the complaint.” He looked hard at Drew. “I know you're angry with them, and you wanted to show them so; but it was a bloody stupid thing to do. How many times have I got to tell you, these are nasty, very nasty people. If you annoy them enough, you won't just get wet next time.”

Drew continued to look at the floor, he was very close to tears.

“It was you, wasn't it?”

“If I said it was, would you arrest me?” asked Drew, sniffing back the tears. He felt a conflict, this was an act of war, so retaliation could happen. At the same time he felt really stupid and ashamed.

“Do I need to?”

“I don't understand.”

“If we leave it at just a warning, will it happen again?”

“No.” Said Drew with fingers crossed behind his back.

“As we can't confirm the identity of the vandal, I can only say I came here to warn you about the incident. Because even if I don't believe you did it, and I'm sure someone like you wouldn't; I have to warn you keep away from the Meadows and Cheeseman.”

“Thank you for the warning,” said Drew.

The police left and Carol and Maddy took over the inquisitor's role. “Did you spray something on this house?” asked Carol.

“I might have done,” said Drew looking anywhere but Carol's face.

“Despite what the police told you yesterday.”

“I wanted them to know they didn't frighten me,” said Drew, defiantly; although his eyes were clearly tearful.

“Oh Gaby, what are we going to do with you? I wish I had your courage even if it's at times misplaced. Promise me you're not going to mess with these people again.”

“What if I don't?”

“I shall stop you racing on Sunday,” said Carol quietly but firmly. Drew, looked at her then angrily fled the room, stamping up the stairs and banging his bedroom door.

“Would you really stop him racing?” asked an astonished Maddy.

“If that's what it takes, yes I would. Gaby has acted foolishly and could have endangered herself and others in fooling about with these gangsters. It's my job to try and protect the two of you, clearly I've failed.”

“I didn't even know he'd gone out. What do you think he sprayed on the house?”

“She, Maddy. Remember it's Gaby we're discussing.” Carol gave a hard glance to Maddy who was blushing. “No I didn't know either, nor do I know what she sprayed. Given the reputation of these gangsters, I'm surprised they called the police.”

“I've noticed that people who do stupid things to others don't seem to like it when someone does it to them,” said Maddy with apparent wisdom.

“Yes, it does seem to happen that way doesn't it. I think it's because it reflects a part of you, you rather not see.”

“What are you going to do about Gaby?” asked Maddy.

“Let her stew for the moment, while I think about how I can best prevent her endangering herself.”

Upstairs, Drew was beset by alternating moods of fear and fury. He was fearful that Carol might stop him racing, and furious that she could. The only way he could really rub Cheeseman's nose in the dirt, would be by beating him again, and this time before a larger audience. This was assuming Cheeseman rode the race. However, this assumption hadn't been checked out. Everything seemed up in the air, and Drew didn't like it one bit.

Maddy entered his room with a bowl of cereal. “You may be under house arrest, but I didn't want you starting a hunger strike in protest.”

He thanked her for the food and began to eat it.

“What did you paint on the house?” she asked sitting alongside him on the bed.

“As I haven't admitted it was me...”

“But we all know it was,” said Maddy sniggering.

“It appears there is no evidence to support it.”

“What about the black paint on your hand and the can in the garage with your fingerprints all over it?”

“Okay, I confess. I dunnit copper. Get yer ‘an'cuffs,” said Drew holding out both his hands. Maddy actually fell off the bed laughing.

“You are so funny at times.”

“I sprayed, ‘Drug Dealer'.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“Probably, why?”

“Well that's like gonna piss them more than anything.”

“They started it, knocking me off my bike.”

“Gabs, be careful for goodness sake, or you are going to get hurt.”

“I only wanted to tell them, I knew it was them.”

“They probably know already.”

“They do now.”

“Anyway, mum said, ‘to get washed and dressed'; we're going out apparently.”

“Where?” asked Drew, feeling suspicious.

“Dunno, but you better wear something tidy, just in case.”

“Like what?”

“What do you think I am; your wardrobe mistress? Find something.” With that, she flounced out to dress herself.

Drew poked about in the wardrobe, pulling out the denim skirt again and a blue floral tee shirt top. Then he decided, it had better be with sandals. Quarter of an hour later, he had dressed and applied his makeup, and was styling his hair. Admittedly, it was simply curling it under at the edges, but it looked tidier. Maddy walked in as he was doing it.

“Oh, you've done it?” she almost gasped.

“Done what?” he replied.

“Your hair.”

“Well as you seem to be withdrawing services, I thought, I'd better like, have a go.”

“It looks okay,” she took the brush and ‘improved it', just to let him know she could. Then sprayed it with lacquer, “You'll do,” she said smiling at him. “Actually, it's about time you learned how to do your own hair.”

“Forget it, when we get home, Gaby is history.”

“You've still got to get through this week yet. You can have a play with mine tonight, I'll show you what to do.”

“But I don't want to. I'm not a girl.”

“Right, so who is that I can see in the mirror?” said Maddy who was standing behind him, the mirror being in front of him.

“It's an optical illusion,” he said, desperately trying to think of something with which to comeback at her.

“It looks pretty convincing to me. Ha, I like that, PRETTY convincing, geddit?” said Maddy laughing at her own joke.

“That's about as funny as plague, Mad,” said Drew as a rejoinder, hoping it would do the trick.

“Come on you two,” called Carol from downstairs.

“Where are we going?” asked Drew.

“Dunno,” replied Maddy, “but you look ready for most things.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Course, what did you think it was?”

“I wasn't sure, that's all.”

The banter stopped as they descended the stairs, and followed Carol to the car. “Have you got your bag Gaby?” she asked.

“Yes, Auntie Carol,” said Drew holding up his handbag.

“Good, I see you've brought your denim jacket as well, it might get cooler later.”

“Where are we going Auntie Carol?”

“I thought we'd go and have a trip around Stonehenge, with lunch in Salisbury.”

“Salisbury, does it have shops?” asked Maddy, her eyes gleaming.

“I should think so, it's a city.”

“So it has a cathedral?” said Drew.

“Yes, quite a famous one. Did you want to see it?”

“Don't mind,” said Drew, thinking, “beats shopping any day.”

“What about the shops?” wailed Maddy.

“There'll be time for both, I hope.”

“You hope,” said Maddy sarcastically, “I always lose out.”

“Be careful young woman, you went shopping all day yesterday. So don't push it,” said Carol very firmly. Drew had to work hard to control the snigger that wanted to erupt on his face.

They headed north towards Blandford Forum and beyond following the signs to Salisbury.

“Is Stonehenge in Salisbury, then?” asked Maddy.

“Nah, it's on Salisbury plain,” corrected Drew, the day was getting better.

“I take it this is a bit of your father's influence?” said Carol.

“We did it in history and geography a couple of years back,” smiled Drew.

“Did you bring your camera?” asked Maddy, knowing full well he hadn't.

“Damn, I forgot it. I'll have to buy a postcard or two for Dad.”

“There's a souvenir shop there, so you'll be able to find something, I'm sure.” “If it's not full of American and Japanese tourists," she thought.

They drove through the edge of Salisbury and out to a small town called, Amesbury. From here, Stonehenge is not far. The car park at the monument, is a long walk to the entrance, even though you can see the stones from the road, then a rip off entrance fee and down into the visitor centre.

Drew could see the shop had everything one could wish for regarding the ancient monument, at prices as equal a rip off as the entrance fee.

“When I came here as a student with your dad,” said Carol to Maddy, “it was free, and you could get in amongst the stones.”

“Can't you now?” asked Drew, horrified.

“'Fraid not,” said Carol, with disappointment in her voice.

“So it's stood here for like four or five thousand years, including having farmers try to knock the stones over, and they won't let us in to touch them,” said Drew in a disgusted tone.

“You got it.”

“Cor, what a bloody rip off!” said Drew.

“Gaby, please don't swear, it's common” quipped Carol.

From the visitor centre, you walk along a subway, under the road. Along its side is a sort of time line, telling a story of world history compared to the stones. They then emerged into the sunlight, and there were the stones. Along with the stones are signs telling visitors to keep to the paths, not to touch the stones, and along with the stones is an exhibit of ancient man, who sits or stands in a little glass sentry box and shouts at any visitor who seems to break the rules.

“It's smaller than I thought it would be,” said Maddy.

“Yeah, but it's still, like awesome though,” said Drew. “Those blue stones, the smaller ones, came from west Wales.”

“What along the M4?” said Maddy, mocking him.

“No by carrier pigeon, dummy.”

“Girls, please behave,” chided Carol, wishing she'd come on her own, or just with Gaby, who was slightly interested in history.

“The big ones the triathletes...” continued Drew, quoting the guidebook.

“I think you mean trilithons,” corrected Carol.

“That's what I said, didn't I?” squeaked Drew, in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I misheard you.” apologised Carol.

“Well whatever they're called, they came from Marlborough Downs, and are called Sarsen stones.”

They walked around, Gaby had managed to buy a disposable camera and did take several snaps for her dad. They also managed to get, Mr Grumpy from his glass box to take a picture of all three of them with the stones behind them.

Then back to Salisbury via the gift shop, and Old Sarum. Sarum is the site of the original town of Salisbury, which was moved in the late medieval period. It has the ruins still visible today along with a ruined castle and iron age hill fort. Drew took more pictures, and Maddy frowned ever more.

Finally they had lunch at a pizza restaurant, and while Carol and Drew went to the cathedral and the museum, Maddy went to the shops. They arranged to meet at Marks and Spencers at four o clock.

After a whistle stop tour of cathedral and museum, Carol and Drew were approaching M&S, when he said, “Thanks Auntie Carol, I've enjoyed my day out. It's a smashing place, so much to do and see.”

“I think they reckon Wiltshire has more ancient monuments than any other county, second comes Dorset.”

“When I'm older, I'd like to come touring down this way on a bike. Spend a few weeks camping and seeing all of the ancient things and places.”

“I think you could find it takes more than a few weeks, perhaps not as bad as Egypt, but there is an awful lot of antiquities around here. I mean we didn't even have time to go to Woodhenge, or Danebury or Figsbury rings. They're hill forts, and Woodhenge is a precursor to Stonehenge. On the way back we'll go through Wilton and on the hillside, they've got regimental badges carved in the chalk.

They found Maddy, who managed to find a pair of shoes, she ‘had' to have, and she had found a new skirt for Gaby, who would have to buy it himself. Drew objected on the grounds that he had enough stuff he would never wear again, but Maddy insisted and he capitulated. The skirt was a grey background with roses in pink.

“It'll go with the top I bought you yesterday. The pink is very close in colour.”

Drew agreed, and paid out the fifteen pounds, feeling pain with each note he gave to the shop assistant. He was still blushing from having tried it on in as short a time as he could. The cubicles not being very large. It fitted very well, and he had to admit Maddy had an eye for clothes for him. But, it was all such a waste. He was determined that he was going to ditch Gaby as soon as he got home; back to Warsop, that is.

“I told Gaby, we'd go back via Wilton and see the regimental badges carved into the hillside,” said Carol. Maddy was happy to do anything now she'd had her shopping fix. Drew just felt he'd been conned into buying yet another skirt. However, he put it behind him, and enjoyed the run home.

They stopped and he photographed some of the badges before his film ran out. Sadly, they weren't as clear as they might have been and the light was beginning to go.

“How about a takeaway on the way home?” asked Carol.

There was a general consensus that it was a good idea, they settled on a curry or a Chinese, whichever they saw first. It turned out to be an Indian takeaway, and they enjoyed a curry when they got back.

“I'm going to teach Gaby some basic hair care,” announced Maddy.

“So you want me to do the dishes?” said Carol.

“I'll do them,” quipped Drew, but Maddy had grabbed him and was dragging him up the stairs.

“Come on Vidal Sassoon, let's get started.”

“Aw Mad, I don't wan…”

“Come on, every girl should be able to do simple things with their hair.”

“But I'm not a…ouch, that hurt,” moaned Drew.
“Don't argue then.”

The evening of hairdressing that Drew dreaded, turned out to be much more pleasant than anticipated. Maddy played with his hair, showing him how to put it up, and how to plait it. Then he had to do it to her.

He had dreaded it for two reasons, it was a girl thing and he was in rebellion, second, he didn't think his fingers were nimble enough and Maddy would humiliate him. His rebellion ended when he found he enjoyed Maddy's fingers on his hair, and when he then realised he enjoyed touching hers.

Maddy also proved to be a good teacher, and Drew a better student than he expected to be. So in a relatively short time, he was achieving a competence beyond his expectations. That felt good.

Having got the basic idea of plaiting, he learned how to do doubles, and then a French plait. The latter, was a bit harder, but he made a reasonable effort and Maddy was pleasantly surprised.

On reflection she wasn't. “He's such a natural girl, why shouldn't he be able to pick up a bit of easy hair care? His hands are the same size as mine, so are his fingers, and I've seen him threading a needle, so I shouldn't be surprised. Maybe I should teach him to sew, then he could help me do costumes when we go to conferences.”

Had Drew known what Maddy was thinking; he wouldn't have been surprised. Disappointed perhaps, but not surprised, she had after all taught him how to dress and to some extent walk and talk, he had the rudiments of putting an outfit together; and did his own makeup. At times he felt the differences between the sexes was simply one of unfamiliarity and spin. Boys did cars and sport and made out it was a world beyond the scope of girls; who retaliated with clothes and beauty products. But it was all so superficial.

It had to be. Here he was a boy, granted not a very masculine one, in a physical appearance sense who had learned how to live like a girl for two weeks without any outsider knowing. He'd acquired some girl skills, but as well had retained the boy ones of sport, and cycling in particular. Showing to his mind at least, that girls could do sport and boys could learn make-up and dress sense.

In reality, his mother had shown him part of this already, as had many women sports champions in both the past and the present. Much of the difference seemed to be in attitude. Boys were generally louder and more aggressive than girls, but not always. This growing ‘ladette' culture of drunken teenage girls fighting in the streets, was not a pretty sight and appalled him. He agreed with equality of the sexes, not only because his mum would be disappointed in him if he didn't, but because he actually believed it. Within that framework, he also believed individuals had their own skill levels. His, was on a bike, whether he was a boy or a girl.

He sighed to himself. ”I suppose in lots of ways I'm very traditional. While in others progressive. I suppose I'm a feminist bloke!” The incongruity of that made him smile to himself, enough for Maddy to ask, ‘if he had wind?'