Drew Goes South Chapter 24 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The ‘terrible two’ arrived a bit late at Harry’s, both of them had had to repair makeup, especially around their eyes, however, Maddy, despite her earlier tears had managed to escape the red eyes which often follow a bout of crying.

They had both opted for shorts and tee shirts, Drew not appreciating how they accentuated his small waist and expanding hips, Carol noticed it as they called to her as they were leaving. The shorts were actually Maddy’s, she knew this because she had bought them for Maddy, herself, they seemed to fit Drew’s bottom even better than her daughter's.

Carol watched them walk down the drive, laughing and joking like two sisters. She really worried about Drew, wondering how he was ultimately going to cope with a body which seemed increasingly female.

Most of the boys in his year were starting to show facial hair and growth spurts. He was smaller, had a relatively high voice and had no body or facial hair to speak of. Carol had also noticed his nipples looked slightly larger than the last time she had seen him with his shirt off. She accepted that Jenny and Dave were right to give Drew space to see how he felt about things, but at times she felt they were being a trifle too liberal about it.

She liked Drew, he was a lovely kid, he had the odd moment of acting wild, like any boy, but most of them did it much of the time, his was occasional. It worried her.

On a bike, he was ruthless and very aggressive, and so was his mother. Theoretically, that could mean he either had it in his genes or had learned it from Jenny. Mind you, Dave was a gentle guy, very caring and a deep thinker. At times it almost seemed the parental roles had been switched, Jenny was the competitive go-getter, while Dave spent as much time as he could with the kids.

Her John was a gentle type too, but he didn’t go overboard on looking after Maddy when she was young, as Dave had done with Juliette and Drew. She had once teased, asking if Dave was breastfeeding yet. his response had been to call her bluff, by claiming he would if he could. She believed he was probably telling the truth. So if she was busy, it was usually easier to get Dave to babysit than it was her own husband.

Was it any wonder Drew had possible gender confusion? Or was that unfair? She reconsidered that her own feminist leanings told her, ‘we should all be free to be who we are, irrespective of social stereotypes,’ she accepted this, it all being shades of grey rather than the black and white portrayed by the media and certain fundamentalist groups. It was exactly what Jenny and Dave subscribed to, so maybe they were correct. It eased her mind for the moment, but she still wanted to talk with them about Drew’s future, just to make sure they had all the information they needed.

She wondered if a chromosome check was required, or to see if he was androgen insensitive or in one of the strange and anomalous situations, in which some people find themselves.

She wondered about his questions about God. What was all that about? It piqued her curiosity and she wished now she had got him to talk a bit more, in case he saw his life as being divinely plagued or under some sort of judgement. If that was the case, it needed to be nipped in the bud as soon as possible, she would try and revive the subject when she could.

Blissfully unaware of Carol’s quandary, the terrible twosome were being politely bored to death by all the bird pictures Harry had ever taken. There were hundreds of photos on his computer. He’d kept all the bad ones, such as a little grebe, which had dived a split second before the shutter moved and showed simply open water; or the blackbird which had got so tame, it came too close for him to focus on, being more of a black blurred.

They teased him gently, trying not to yawn too openly, but it was so boring. William had had to mow his lawn so was late arriving, “You’re not showing those bloody old bird pix again, are you?”

“What’s it to you, Bugler? Our beautiful friends haven’t seen them before.”

“Aren’t they the lucky ones. He fancies himself as David Attenborough, and to be honest, he’s just like David Attenborough … only without the talent.” This latest jibe resulted in some impromptu wrestling from both boys, neither of whom seemed able to get the upper hand.

Maddy and Drew sat watching this with indifference, “Aren’t you glad you’re a girl?” said Maddy to her cousin. Drew rolled his eyes upwards and nodded.

After about five minutes, Harry’s mother looked in on the source of the strange noises. “What on earth is going on in here?” she asked in a loud and disapproving voice. The boys stopped and stood still, breathing heavily and with very red faces. “I’m surprised you girls allowed this to happen,” she said to Maddy and Drew.

Maddy simply shrugged her shoulders, but Drew, feeling mischievous replied. “It’s alright, Maddy’s going to fight the winner.”

The look of shock on Maddy’s face made the others laugh, even Harry’s mum, “And I suppose you are going to referee?” she quipped at Drew.

“Oh no, I’m always her second when she duels or wrestles anyone. Back home she’s known as the ‘Warsop Strangler’.”

Maddy open mouthed, turned and slapped Drew on the arm. “Please don’t start on me, Strangler, I didn’t mean it, honest I didn’t,” was his response while appearing to cower in mock fear.

By now everybody including Maddy was falling about laughing, and then she had to rush off to the toilet.

“Is she always this funny?” asked Mrs Palmer of the boys.

“Not when she’s riding a bike,” said William quietly but firmly, “Then she’s deadly serious.”

“A bit like some of the spiders I’ve photographed. Argiope bruennichi or the European wasp spider, females often kill and eat their would-be partners,” said Harry.

Drew couldn’t let this pass without a feminist comment, “See males do have their uses, I thought I was feeling a bit peckish.” This got Mrs Palmer chuckling like a demented hen.

Then Harry killed it by ignoring the humorous remark, and by adding, ”I’m sure I’ve got some photos of it here somewhere.” He began rummaging among some CD ROMs he had by the side of the computer, everyone groaned, but he ignored that too.

“Have you asked the girls if they are staying to tea?” Mrs Palmer said to her son.

“Not yet Mum, gimme, like a chance.”

“Well, girls, are you staying for tea?” she voiced her question directly to Maddy and Drew.

Neither particularly wanted to and were about to decline politely, when Harry insisted they stay, especially as William was. Reluctantly they agreed, or Maddy did on their behalf.

The weather had improved, and the four teenagers went out into Harry’s garden. The girls were inveigled into a game of badminton, which initially Drew tried to escape, and Maddy was reluctant to play.

From previous experience, Maddy and Gaby, were quite a reasonable pairs team except the boys were reluctant to play boys v girls.

“We can’t play boys against girls, it wouldn’t like, be friendly,” said William.

“Harry added, “Yeah, I like, totally agree, boys are better at most games and it would just be a massacre.”

Meanwhile, this was grist to Drew’s mill, he loved it when he was written off. Initially, he had suggested he just sit and watch, Maddy had agreed to do the same. Now he was relishing the opportunity to smash a few shuttles.

The Palmer’s garden had a large lawn, and it had been marked out for a badminton court, so playing would be more than just a messy knockabout.

“I think Maddy ‘n me’d like to be massacred,” said Drew quietly, well aware there were some sexual overtones in what he’d just said, “So us two’ll play you two.”

“Eh, what?” said Maddy, as Drew grabbed her and led her to the opposite side of the net, he then led her into doing some cheerleading stretches and jumps. The boys stood with mouths wide open, drooling at the cavorting girls.

Then they had two minutes warm-up, by this time, Maddy and Drew were nicely loosened up and ready to go. The boys, were part warmed up and like lambs to the slaughter. Common sense should have warned them that Gaby was competitive. They knew she was a killer on a racing bike, she was the same on a badminton court.

Maddy played front court and Drew covered the back. After Drew had smashed yet another shot past the boys, right down the middle, the girls were ten points ahead.

“You’ve played this before?” said William, rhetorically.

“Who me?” answered Drew innocently, “how can you think that?” Maddy chuckled but avoided eye contact with anyone. If she giggled, the boys would have a chance.

Needless to say, the girls won the first game by eighteen points. The boys, however, came back in the second game. Drew had them running all over the court as he played to all four corners. Maddy who had received the signal, protected the front court, playing an assortment of dinks and drop shots which had the boys racing into the net at every opportunity.

The improvement in the boys' game, meant they only lost by fifteen points in the second game, helped no doubt by their now warmed up legs.

In the third game, the girls were way ahead when Drew slipped on the grass. He felt a pull in his ankle and stayed sitting down. Maddy, rushed to help him. “You alright Gabs?”

“No, my ankle hurts.”

The boys were alongside in a few seconds, helping Drew to his feet. He tried to stand on the foot, but his right ankle seared with pain.

“Where does it hurt?” asked William.

“My ankle, I think I’ve sprained it,” replied Drew.

“Get some ice, Harry,” barked William to his friend.

“Hurry Harry,” exhorted Maddy, then thought it sounded rather funny, she began to giggle.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny,” said an irritated Drew.

“Keep your wig on,” Maddy retorted, “I thought, ‘Hurry Harry’, was funny not you breaking your leg.”

“I’ve only sprained it. Ouch, it bloody hurts” said Drew limping to sit on a garden chair. “This is all I need, for tomorrow.”

“Oh hell, I’d forgotten about that,” said Maddy.

“Here, shove this on it,” Harry had returned with a proper ice pack and a towel. As he pulled Drew’s trainer off, so the foot began to swell, he clamped the ice pack to the ankle and wrapped the towel around it.

“Geez, that is cold,” said Drew, jumping involuntarily.

“Keep your big feet still, Dr ... dopey,” said Maddy, blushing. Thankfully only Drew noticed her slip of lip.

“My feet aren’t that big,” replied Drew huffily.

“I think your feet are lovely,” beamed Harry, “Like the rest of you.”

“See,” said Drew pointedly to Maddy, “Somebody likes me.”

“His opinion doesn’t count, he was bewitched by the wicked bicycle queen, two weeks ago, and fell in love with the first thing he saw on a bicycle. He was lucky it was you, and not the postman.”

Everyone fell about laughing at Maddy’s reply, William, with tears rolling down his cheeks, said,” Thank God I walked over.”

“How do we lift the spell?” asked Harry, his eyes twinkling.

“You ride two hours a day, six days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. After two or three years, you’ll be sick to the death of the sight of a bicycle, or in love with Lance Armstrong. Either way, you’ll be cured of the spell, unless of course your name is Bond, in which case, it lasts indefinitely,” spouted Maddy, thinking, 'I’ll teach you Drew Bond…Warsop Strangler, indeed.'

“Perhaps I could change my name to Bond,” said Harry quietly.

Nobody seemed to listen at first, then William said, “What?” while looking at Harry.

Harry looked at his friend.

“What did you just say?” repeated his friend.

“I suppose I could change my name to Bond,” said Harry, now blushing.

“Like, what for?” asked Maddy.

“So I could stay under the spell, for longer,” Harry now looked very sheepish and was staring intently at the grass under his feet.

“You what …?” asked Maddy, chuckling, while William and Drew both rolled their eyes to the sky.

“You know what I mean, I love Gaby,” had it been dark, Harry’s face would have glowed with sufficient heat to be visible from twenty thousand feet, now Drew was beginning to blush, and it wasn’t heat from his ankle.

“Aw bless,” said Maddy, “perhaps we should give the young lovers some time to themselves,” William nodded.

“No,” said Drew.

“Why not?” asked Maddy with feigned innocence.

“I need to get home and rest this ankle.”

“You could rest it where you are,” teased Maddy, “here, put it up on this chair” she pulled alongside another garden chair.

“I need to get home Mad,” Drew struggled to his feet, and began to limp across the lawn, “Can we call Auntie Carol, to come and get us?”

“Yeah, course,” said a disappointed Harry, as he helped the object of his affection limp back to the house.

Back at the cottage, Carol examined the bruised and swollen limb, “Does it hurt much?”

“It throbs a bit, but it hurts most when I stand on it or try to walk.”

“I think you'd best scratch from tomorrow,” she said, knowing it would be accepted with great difficulty.

“I can’t, Auntie Carol, there’s an awful lot riding on this, not just me.”

“From the look of that ankle, you’ll be the only thing not riding. I’m going to call Matt.”

“Can’t we wait until morning? I’m sure, it’ll feel better then.”

“Gaby, there is a very strong chance it won’t be much better. It is only fair to warn Matt now, no buts or maybes,” with that, Carol walked off to the phone.

While she was there, the doorbell rang. Maddy went to answer it, and came back two minutes later with a huge bunch of flowers, They’re from Harry, a bit of a conscience salver, I think.”

“Crikey,” exclaimed Drew, when he saw Maddy struggling with the bouquet, “There can’t be any flowers, for a three-mile radius of this place.”

“Apart from the ones you’ve got in vases, jam jars and assorted buckets” quipped Maddy, “Shoulda told ‘im you get ‘ayfever.”

“But I don’t,” queried a puzzled Drew.

“Yeah, but then, ‘e mighta stopped buyin’ ‘em.”

“I think it’s sweet of him,” said Drew, surprised at what came out of his own mouth.

“Hark at you, Miss Girly pants.”

“Well it is nice of him.”

“So you’ll give him a big kiss and say thank you, will you?”

“I s’pose I’ll ‘ave to.”

“Yes you will, Gaby Bond, two weeks ago that would have frightened you more than riding the wall of death, now, it seems rather too easy. I think you are adapting to this girl stuff rather too well.”

As Drew blushed and tried to protest, Maddy cut short his efforts by pacing to and fro. “Members of the jury, I would ask you to consider the accused, Gaby Bond, as fibbing through her back teeth when she says she doesn’t enjoy all the perks of being a girl. Furthermore, her ability to take to it like a duck to water and being practically undetectable from the real thing, even so far as to be prettier than her cousin '.…”

“That isn’t true, Maddy Peters.”

“Objection overruled.”

“I thought, only the judge could say that, ‘overruled' bit.”

“I’m the judge as well,” beamed Maddy.

“Who’s the jury then?”

“I am,” said Maddy.

“This doesn’t look like a fair trial to me,” protested Drew.

“Tell it to the appeal court.”

“Who are they?”

“Me,” she smiled smugly.

“This sounds like something out of 'Alice In Wonderland.'

“Off with her head….” Maddy was interrupted by Carol coming back.

“I thought her ankle was the problem,” said a puzzled Carol to her daughter.

“It’s nothing some brain surgery wouldn’t cure.”

“Leave my brain out of this.”

“You already did.”

“Girls, can we please have some sense here? Gaby, Matt is on his way over. He needs to see your ankle, and is bringing a support thing, he said to keep the ice on it.”

“At this rate, I’ll have frostbite by tomorrow.”

“Good gracious, where did all those flowers come from?” said Carol, suddenly noticing the floral additions.

“Give you two guesses…”

“Harry?”

“Got it in one.”

“Either he’s very fond of you, or has a guilty conscience,” said Carol, examining the blooms.

“Or both,” quipped Maddy.

“Would you like to phone him, to say thank you?”

“Not just yet, Auntie Carol. Let’s see what Matt has to say.”

“What about saying thank you? I’m sure he’d say, 'phone the boy'.”

“Maddy, don’t be so silly. Go and put the kettle on.”

Maddy left the room in high dudgeon, “I keep telling you, the kettle won’t fit ….” she scolded as she left.

Carol shook her head. Maddy was acting more like a boy than a girl. She couldn’t cope with this blending genders stuff. One uncertain candidate at a time was as much as she could cope with, two was too much.

Carol sat down next to Drew, “How’s the ankle?”

“I’ll be alright.” Smiled back Drew, with a confidence he didn’t feel. But then he was used to bluffing others. At times when racing, he needed to appear supremely confident to psyche opponents, at others, it was better to appear to be tired or doubtful.

Before the conversation could approach areas Drew would prefer to leave unexpressed, Maddy returned noisily. “Who wants what, then?”

She placed the tray of crockery, teapot and biscuits on the table, with enough noise to prevent Drew and Carol from saying anything audible.

“I think you have shown your true vocation,” said Carol to her daughter.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Tea lady.”

“Cool” she replied.

“Come to think of it, your father said the other week that Doris was retiring, so I could put in a word for you if you like?”

Drew looked rather unhappy with this conversation, “As a future Olympic medallist and Tour winner, I can’t be seen with a tea lady on my arm.”

“Gabs, you practically run on tea, plus if you’re seen with any sort of girl on your arm, it will make good headlines.”

“I meant when I’m back to normal, as Drew.”

“I thought you’d forgotten about him; biscuit?” said Maddy, proffering the plate of digestives.

“I thought we had some choccie ones.”

“Gabs, you can only eat them once. You did, last week.”

“Oh bugger.”

“Gaby Bond, that is not very polite. Please refrain from swearing, it merely demonstrates a paucity of vocabulary and penury of cohesive conversation.”

At this Drew stopped, mouth wide open. He was about to say something but Carol had got him again with big words. Maddy stood sniggering, still holding the plate of biscuits.

Just then the doorbell rang. “If that’s any more flowers, tell ‘em I ran away,” squeaked Drew as Maddy went to answer the door.

“How could you run away on a bad foot?” came back the response from the hallway.