Dot and Sam 13

Dorothy Philpot. Landlady of The Harbour Light pub
Sam Philpot. Drag-queen.
Billy Parkins Doorkeeper.
Jessica Merlot The town’ and county archaeologist.
Josephine MacDonald The town and county archivist.
Richard Drummond Town planning inspector
Robert Vincent. Junior planning inspector.
Georgina. (Georgie) Homeless Transgender girl.
Bobby Gay boy on the school bus.
Marty Girl on the school bus.
Jack. Marty’s twin brother (Keen runner).
Trevor Aitkins, Georgie’s Biological father.

The weekend after the basin was filled with water, The Harbour Light was almost overwhelmed with assorted tourists and house-buyers looking to buy a delightful ‘holiday home’ or letting opportunity. As she waited on the tables Georgie smiled inwardly as she heard loud city voices braying about house values and ‘property investments’ over their meals. Georgie already knew that some ware-house units were already spoken for by local traders while others had been reserved as ‘affordable rental homes’ to be owned and let by the council. The county had suffered enough from property values skyrocketing out of reach to local families, then lying empty for months through the winter. The council had decided that this ‘homelessness cancer’ was to be nipped in the bud because the basin was programmed to become a living organism not a winter ghost-town.

As Georgia busied herself, several self-important diners asked what she thought of the basin project.

“Would you like to live here m’ dear?” One particularly noisome ‘loads’a’money’ inquired, as his question to Georgie echoed around the pub. The pub fell silent.

Weary of the presumptuous metropolitan arrogance, Georgie just smiled sweetly and mimicked the broad local accent.

“Oim’ as already livin’ ere m’ darlin; is you’se thinkin oh cummin’ down from t’ smoke the-en?”

‘Loads a’ money’ fell into a slightly stunned silence as he digested the waitress’s news and his jaw worked silently for several moments before one of his table mates burst out laughing.

“Ha, haa! She got yer there Alf!” He gasped. “Her dad must be a millionaire!”

Having laughed at his own joke he turned to Georgie.

“Is your dad a millionaire? He must be to own this place; it looks like a goldmine!”

Georgie reverted to perfect ‘R.P.’ as she savoured another put-down.

“Sadly, my daddy does not own ‘this place’ as you call it, my mummy does. It’s a traditional old seafaring inn. Now, are you ordering dessert sir?”

One of the women diners secretly savoured the way the pretty young girl had so easily shut down the men and decided to order a dessert because she secretly hoped the girl would repeat her evident skill at handling oafs. She held up her hand to make her wishes known and quickly, the rest of the women in the party read the signs. Georgie smiled inwardly as she sensed the mood amongst the women and their desserts were quickly added to the bill.

Later the whole party retired to the lounge to finish the evening and once again, knowing eyes quickly assessed the amount of booze flowing across the bar. Less knowing eyes just gaped mesmerised as the same pretty waiter was now working behind the bar after the restaurant had closed.

By the end of the evening ‘Loads a’ money’s’ noisy crowd were the last remaining table to leave just as Trevor was returning from one of his assessment trips. One of the women in the party suddenly recognised him as he ducked behind the bar and gave his daughter Georgie a hug while simultaneously exchanging pleasantries with Dot as she was cashing up the takings. The woman hurried across to the bar and spoke to Trevor as he was ducking back from under the bar and intending to slip upstairs to his bedroom. The ware-houses across the basin were not completed yet and Trevor was still staying at the Harbour Light.

“Trevor! Trevor Aitkins! Is that you?”

Trevor turned with surprise as he slowly recognised the woman. She had been an acquaintance at school many years before Georgie had been born and before Trevor had married Georgie’s mother. She knew the divorce between Trevor and his wife had been a painful event for Trevor for he had always been a loyal husband. She squinted at him with a surprised smile playing on her lips.

“So, is this young lady your new companion. She’s surely too young to be your wife, you old dog!”

Trevor frowned irritably as he instantly regretted having hugged Georgie so tightly; the intimacy of his having pecked Georgie on her cheek had obviously misled the woman.

“She’s not my wife Allison! So don’t go spreading tales.”

“But that affectionate kiss, so sweet! Is she related?”

“That’s no concern of yours Ma-am.” Georgie responded a little too quickly. “We’ve just been working closely together on the excavations and stuff. Mr Aitkins has been very helpful to my classmates doing their archaeology stuff for their history dissertations.”

“Oh I see.” The woman trailed off her conversation as her friends were calling her to leave.

But she noticed a facial resemblance between her old acquaintance and the pretty girl he had hugged a bit too affectionately. She turned to Trevor as she reluctantly departed.

“So, are you living down these parts now?” She asked the man for whom she had once held a candle many years ago.

“Occasionally,” Trevor conceded somewhat reluctantly, “but I still keep my main place in the midlands.”

Georgie felt a flush of gratitude that her dad had already grasped the implications of her mother or step-father somehow discovering her whereabouts. The very last thing Georgie wanted was her detested step-father discovering where she lived.

Any more conversation was soon curtailed as Dot rang ‘last orders’ while Georgie closed the doors behind ‘Loads ‘a money’ and his friends. As she slipped the bolts home, she watched the group pile into a taxi then she switched off the courtyard lights and dashed upstairs to her dad’s bedroom.

“Thanks Daddy.”

“That was close darling, I’m not sure you’re out of the woods though. I think Allison may have recognised you.”

“D’you think so?” Georgie frowned slightly.

“I can’t say for certain love, but Allison’s a lawyer and professional photographer and she’s got a sharp eye for imagery and faces. She might have clocked some likeness between you and me.”

“Damn! I hope not. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

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