Dot and Sam 4

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.

“There you are kiddo, fill yer boots.” Sam suggested as she placed a laden plate in front of the girl.

Georgie’s eyes widened appreciatively as she chose her cutlery. Dot said nothing but noted that the kid at least knew how to hold her knife and fork. Then for the next twenty minutes the only sounds were Georgie’s cutlery on the plate and Sam running the hoover over the stone slab floor. Dot chose to do some book-keeping by entering the previous night’s takings in the lap-top ledger on the breakfast table while it enabled her to keep an eye on Georgie.

She cleverly timed it to finish just as Georgie scraped her plate clean.

“You can’t eat the pattern love.” Dot grinned, “but if you’re still hungry there’s toast and marmalade or jam; with more tea or coffee?”

The fractional hesitation told Dot that the girl’s innate good manners were preventing her from asking for more so she grinned widely.

“Oh for god’s sake girl, don’t be so bloody shy!”

And so saying, Dot sliced off a couple of ‘door-steps’ that just about fitted into the toaster.
“It’s fresh bread, baked this morning. Sam makes a big thing about her bread and Jam. Local pure butter too, so go on, fill up. Now, coffee or tea?”

“Tea please.”

Dot topped up Georgie’s mug and pushed the sugar bowl across. She had already noted that Georgie liked her coffee sweet and milky so the milk jug quickly followed.

“Thank you,” Georgie croaked softly for her throat had filled up with suppressed tears of gratitude.

Several minutes later, Sam called from the bar.

“The ambulance is here. Does she still want to go and get checked?”

Georgie looked at Dot and asked.

“Do I have to?”

“Best that you do love. Feinting fits should not be ignored in a young-un. If everything’s okay, come back to the pub and we’ll see about sorting stuff properly.

“But I, -.”

“Don’t worry, here’s your bus-fare back, that is if you want to come back.”

Dot and Sam watched the ambulance depart then exchanged thoughts.

“D’ you think she’ll come back?”

“Dunno Sam, no skin of our noses either way.”

“I was beginning to like her.” Sam confessed
.
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough.” was Dot’s answer as they set to preparing for the regular lunch time crowd.

The first crowd to hit the pub was of course the female student archaeologists who descended like locusts on the pre-prepared food laid out on the trestle tables al-fresco because the day was warm and sunny.

This was followed very quickly by some newer mostly male clientele, who had learned about the bevvy of pretty female students wearing mostly boots and cut-off jeans with vest tops or halters. These men were mostly plant operators and laborours who had started the work of site preparation around the basin once the archaeology was explored.

Dot smiled to herself as she contemplated just how men could be suckers for a flash of leg or cleavage.

“Still.” She reflected with a smirk. “It was good business for the ‘Harbour Light’ and every penny helped towards their plans for the stables.”
Later at noon the regular ‘office crowd’ appeared and Dot and Sam greeted the more familiar faces.

By two pm, the regulars were returning to work as Dot and Sam were clearing up. At five pm they were closing up except for the evening food laid out especially for the archaeologists. This was paid for by the local town council and the county council who were keen to get the site declared ready for development.

As they watched the students returning for their evening food Dot remarked to Sam.

“I’d hoped Georgie would have returned. Seems she’s decided to move on.”

“Pity that,” Sam replied. “She seemed like a nice kid.”

The pair exchanged mutual looks of mild disappointment and stepped up to the service table ready to ladle out food army style. They knew their food was really appreciated by the hungry, student horde who were queuing up by the temporary water stand to wash their hands before eagerly collecting their favoured foods. It had taken only a couple of days for Dot and Sam to discern what were the favoured dishes and it pleased the pair to see that there was very little wastage.

An added bonus was that the workmen who were preparing the site prior to development, had learned that good food was occasionally being thrown away and they quickly availed themselves of the remaining food each evening. Dot and Sam discovered that the men were prepared to pay for well prepared and plentiful food. So the entrepreneurial pair started ordering their own extra supplies and selling it to the workmen for an additional profit.

By six pm Dot and Sam had concluded that Georgie wasn’t coming back so they closed up the restaurant and only kept the small public bar open for the students living in the porta-cabins.

The following morning Dot received a phone call.

“Hello; The Harbour Light.”

“Hello. Is that Miss Dorothy Philpot?”

“Ye-ess.” Dot replied cautiously for the friends all called her Dot. This call was obviously some sort of official call.

“This is the General.”

“Hospital?” Dot queried, for everybody locally referred to the General hospital as ‘The General’.

“Yes. It’s the casualty department. We received a patient here yesterday and we kept her in. She’s severely underweight, almost emaciated.”

“Oh, the girl Georgina. Yes we called an ambulance because she collapsed here yesterday morning. We gave her a breakfast then the ambulance came. Is she okay?”

“We’re keeping her in for a few days for observation because she’s malnourished and she feinted,”

“I see,” Dot mused, “are there any other problems?”

“She’s got no infections thank god but she’s got a couple of old hairline fractures that point to some serious physical abuse within the last few months. She won’t talk about them so there’s not a lot we can do. Fortunately there’s been no bone deformity so we can expect a simple turn around once she’s properly nourished. Do you know she’s transgendered?”

“I do but you should not have mentioned it to me, we here at the pub are not her next of kin.”

“I understand that but she gave the Harbour Light as her abode. Do you know her back-ground. She was not prepared to tell us anything. She said she’s estranged from her family and she was only prepared to tell us that she had been staying at your pub.”

“I don’t know much about her;” Dot confessed, “we only had a brief chat as she wolfed down the breakfast we gave her. I could see she was a bit skinny but I just put it down to an under-developed filly-ish late adolescence. When she told me she was ‘trans’ I presumed she was dieting to arrest puberty. Kids sometimes do that; especially if they’re living rough.”

“That’s not a good thing,” the doctor opined.

“I know,” Dot responded slightly irritably. “I’ve walked the transgendered walk myself you know. That’s why the kid opened up to us. Will she be able to return to the Harbour light? We’ve got several unused rooms.”

“We’d prefer for her to return to her true home. That’s what social services are pressing for.”

“I rather think not. She told me that her step-father threw her out because of her transgender issues. She’s been living rough since her sixteenth birthday. Did she have any recent bruises or other tell-tale signs of abuse?”

“Apart from the hairline fractures we also found evidence of a very old, dislocated shoulder but she said it was in a struggle with her step-father when she was fourteen.”

“And you still want to send her home?” Dot almost shrieked.

“Well;” the doctor conceded, “not now, not after what you’ve told us. Where was she sleeping then? When you found her that is.” The doctor pressed.

“She was sleeping inside a stack of packing cases in the stable loft down here at the Harbour light.”

“Oh! Is that were they’re digging out a medieval tidal basin?”

“Yes, she’d sneaked her way into the archaeological work team by pretending to be one of the students on the dig. She was availing herself of the food and washing facilities but avoiding the porta-cabins because she’s transgendered. The county Archaeologist said she worked well and nobody had cause to criticise her work.”

“Joining the dig was a smart move.” The doctor observed.

“Yes, the kid’s a smart cookie. I suspect the archaeologist would take her back if she returns to us.”

“Would you take her back? I’ll refer you to the social services if you’re prepared to house her.”

“If they’re okay with it and Georgie’s okay with it, I’d give her a trial run. The S.S., can help her with housing benefits if that needs sorting.”

“Of course. To tell the truth, I think the S.S., will tear your arm off. Older kids with problems are always hard to sort out.”

“Perhaps I can visit the hospital while she’s still interned. She must be worried by the uncertainty.”

“Yes. I’ll check if the patient is happy and take it forward.” The doctor finished.

The following day, Dot checked to ascertain her visitation rights and was pleased to learn she was listed as next-of-kin. She visited Georgie in the mid- morning then later in the afternoon to meet Georgie’s social worker.

They gathered around Georgie’s bed and the social worked could readily see that the girl was much more at ease with the transgendered landlady of The Harbour Light Inn.

“You understand Miss Philpott that I have to inspect your premises; what with Georgina being sixteen.

“She’s nearer seventeen but be my guest. She’ll have her own ensuite bedroom and live in with us B & B style.”

“Are you happy with this arrangement Georgina?”

“Will I get housing benefits? I can’t afford hotel rates.”

“If everything is satisfactory, you won’t be paying anything.” The social worker assured her.

“She’s right,” Dot reassured her. “You’ll certainly not be paying hotel rates, and we’ll be sorting out some sort of Benefit allowance with the DHSS, but without the delights of DHSS Hostel Neighbours.” Dot elaborated.

A flicker of relief betrayed Georgie’s feelings and the SS worker noticed the surreptitious squeeze of gratitude as Georgie sneaked her fingers around Dots wrist. She stood up with a satisfied sigh and smiled for she wished all her cases ended like this one.

“Well, I suppose there’s no time like the present to check your offer Miss Philpott. Shall we go.”

“Oh! So soon?” Dot exclaimed.

“Needs must Miss Philpott. They’ll be discharging young Georgina tomorrow. Pressure for beds you understand.”

“Aahyy.” Dot sighed and nodded. “To horse, to horse then.”

“An hour’s driving through ‘the school run’ found both cars drawn up at the Harbour Light and the Social worker inspecting the Harbour Light’s rooms.

“How old are these rooms? She asked Dot.

“The pub’s in the Doomsday book and I believe quite a bit of it goes back that far. That’s because it’s built on the only rocky outcrop hereabouts and consequently never moves. The foundations are stone cemented on rock and there’s not a trace of old wooden pilings like the old town’s foundations. That place is a bit like Venice but without the sewage. Builders often find they have to replace old sunken pilings hundreds of years old when they undertake renovations.”

“Fascinating. You’ll have to show me around the excavations some time. Is it true they’ve located the old medieval canal.”

“Yes, that’s where those sheet piles have been driven in. Now they can actually excavate the old canal lock in the dry, then rebuild a modern replacement in concrete but with the appearance of an old Dickensian lock. It looks brilliant in the council plans. Those old gabled ware-houses are being refurbished sympathetically so the basin will look like a Christmas card. If you come back on Saturday, I’m sure Georgie will give you a full tour she’s right into archaeology. The county archaeologist is quite enamoured of the kid.”

“Really, what’s the girl like academically. Possibly returning to school and such like?”

“I honestly don’t know, if you collect her from hospital, you might be able to probe her feelings. She seems a bright kid.”

“I’ll do that. Would you be prepared to support her emotionally, you know, loco in parentis and all that?”

“Can I do that? or more correctly can Sam and I do that? We’re a transgendered couple don’t forget.”

“The kid’s transgendered herself. So why not, her straight parents haven’t served her well have they?”

“Well there is that, I suppose,” Dot conceded. “I’ll have a good long chat with her tomorrow when you bring her here.”

“My thoughts exactly, by the way, she’s looking for her biological dad.”

“I know.” Dot nodded. Me-thinks she’d stand a better chance with a safe place to work from and good access to the internet. Apparently she loved her dad.”

“I’ll amend her file and mark her card.” The social worker advised, “there’s several organisations who help relatives find each other.”

Having laid the groundwork, the pair separated and Dot helped Sam finish up for the night. The following morning Dot was talking to Richard and Bob the town planners as they discussed the umpteenth change of plans subsequent upon the archaeological discoveries.

“They might as well have just delayed the development work until the archaeology was completed. Dot chuckled.”

“No there’s too much conflict between what the bore-holes find and what the students find. We all knew this was going to get expensive.”

“Thank god for the Lottery I say.” Sam chuckled as she crossed the soon-to-be-excavated harbour street, with a tray full of mugs and chocolate oaties.

The planners eagerly dived into the biscuits then looked about as the social worker’s car arrived with Georgie riding ‘shotgun’

Georgie was out of the car in a flash and streaked across the mud caked slabs that paved the old harbour street. Dot grinned for it was obvious she had some exciting news.

“The social worker says I can go back to school while living with you.”

“Yes, we discussed it briefly last night. D’ you want to go back to school?”

“I’d love to! I’m a year behind though.”

“That’s not a problem.” The social worker explained. “Provided you’ve got a secure place and a stable arrangement, we’ll support you.”

Georgie flung herself at Dot and squeezed her desperately as Dot felt wet tears on her blouse.

“Thank you, thank you. I won’t let you down,”

Dot returned the embrace and allowed Georgie the necessary long intimate interval while the Social worker looked on and smiled. She had no experience of LGBT relationships and had always tended to see them through a sexual lens. It was an eye opener to learn that substitute, transgendered parental relationships could actually take root and grow in what she had usually considered to be a barren puerile freneticism.

It gave her much food for thought to see a sixteen/seventeen-year-old transgender actually emotionally involved with a thirty-five-year-old transgendered adult in a strictly parent child relationship.

Once the emotional moment was completed, Georgie turned to Richard the senior Town Planner.

“Can I show Betty my case-worker around the site before you close up for the night? She’s brought some wellies.”

“Very well. You know it as well as anybody but take care. The concrete footings to the bottom basin cill have just been poured.

~~~~~~~~~~