Dot and Sam 23

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 previously known as George.
Bobby Gay boy on the school bus.
Marty Girl on the school bus. (She becomes Georgie’s best friend and lover)
Jack. Marty’s twin brother (Keen runner).
Trevor Aitkins, Georgie’s Biological father.
Lucinda Aitkins Georgie’s biological mother
Terence Georgie’s step-dad
Allison. Old school friend of Trevor
Fred Allisons husband
Elizabeth Aitkins (Beth) Georgie’s younger sister. Later proves to be sympathetic to her ‘sister’
Jonathon Aitkins (Johnny) Georgie’s younger brother.

Part 23

The lady police officer greeted Georgie by the police reception desk with a questioning smile of sympathy.

“You said you’d remembered some more information.

Georgie just nodded for she thought it best not to broadcast her information all around the station.

“Somewhere private I think, please.” Georgie almost whispered.

The police-woman squinted then nodded slowly as Georgie surreptitiously opened her palm to secretly reveal the memory stick. The officer’s eyes widened with expectation and immediately led her star witness to a private interview room.

As they sat across the table Georgie asked.

“I might need your advice about this.”

“What’s on it?” The policewoman asked as they stepped into a private room.

“Body-cam footage of the attack.” Georgie replied after briefly scanning the interview room for any cameras. “It’s mainly the older man who attacked me. He was wearing traditional Islamic dress.”

So saying, Georgie opened her phone and played the video from the body-cam. As the police-woman watched, her eyes widened with concern yet delight. After it was finished she grinned widely at Georgie.

“Do you know who that is?” She questioned Georgie.

“Yes, he’s the one who attacked me.”

“Well, obviously, but do you recognise him?”

“Not as such, but I think he’s some sort of religious fanatic. I mean wearing a jebella in December must be bloody freezing; what’s more, he’s bare legged and all; especially if he’s an old man.”

“He’s not that old.”

“Oh! So you do know him then?” Georgie frowned. “Is he some sort of known fanatic then. I’ve heard about these muslim morality patrols but I thought they were down the east end.”

“Usually they are but your video shows a new development. And yes, I do know him.”

“So who is he then?”

“It’s a bit sensitive.”

“What d’ you mean, sensitive? It’s serious and he needs to be bloody stopped, quickly. My friend’s got a broken jaw and the other two were badly knocked about as well. Gypsie’s got a broken wrist and Susie’s got broken fingers no less.”

“I’ll have to speak to the superintendent about this.”

“What d’you mean; the superin-bloody-tendent?” Georgie cursed. “This is an open and shut case of GBH! If you recognise this bastard then it’s straight to the DPP”

“It’s not as straightforward as that. I hope you’re not going to post that video online.”

“I’m not stupid. I’ve experienced stuff like this before so I’ll be patient. I came to you first because this evidence is vital to your case but I want to see action on it!”

The police-woman gave a feint worried frown and reluctantly agreed that she would pursue the case vigorously. Georgie was not entirely convinced and left wondering why the police seemed hesitant.

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Back at student’s hall the building was agog with foreign students talking eagerly about the attacks. Georgie was quietly relieved that the local students had mostly gone down for Christmas but a couple of the Terfs that Georgie recognised were still staying in Hall. As soon as Georgie emerged from her room after checking on Marty she was accosted by the Terfs.

“We heard that one of your friends was attacked! Is it true?”

Georgie wanted nothing to do with them and she tried to squeeze past them but they blocked her.

“Do you mind! I’m trying to get past you!” She protested mildly to avoid being accused of bullying or any other trumped-up claim.

“Just answer the question, is it true?”

“Speak to the college authorities if you want to know.”

“They’re not saying anything, we simply want to know if it’s true.”

“Yes, it’s true,” Georgie conceded, “now let me get past.”

Reluctantly, they parted but issued a challenge as Georgie pushed past.

“If you know anything, you’d better tell us.”

“If I knew anything, I’d tell the police, not you.”

This disarmed the Terfs’ argument and they stared mutely at Georgie’s back as she sped down the stairs. In the refectory she met Gypsie, her friend with the dislocated wrist.

“It looks sore,” Georgie commiserated.

“It is,” Gypsie confirmed. “Did you get a look at that one in the Arab thing?”

“Yes and I’ve described him to the police.”

“Good; have they said anything yet?”

“What they always say, they’re looking into it.”

“Fat lot of use, that is.” Gypsie bristled.

“Nah, this time they might have to do something.” Georgie offered helpfully.

“How come?”

“Apparently they got them on some street cameras after leaving the campus.”

“I bloody hope so!” She cursed as she cautiously fidgeted with the itching plaster on her wrist. “They sounded foreign to me.”

“Yeh. I thought that as well.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“Yes, did you?”

Gypsie nodded and stared pensively into her cup before declaring.

“My mum works in the foreign office and if they catch them she’ll move to have them deported if they are foreign.”

“Good for her,” Georgie agreed before giving her farewells and visiting the campus shop for some food.

When she got back to their room she found Marty sitting up at the study table in the other room.

“Howdy soldier, how’s the jaw?”

“Sore. Have there been any developments?”

“The Terfs are on the warpath.”

“Fat lot of use they are, they’ll probably say it was trannies.”

“Doubt it. They were ethnics with beards.”

“Did anybody see that?”

“Yes, I did and Gypsie says she caught a glimpse of one when he damaged her wrist as she was trying to drag his scarf off.”

“So they were ethnics?”

“Definitely. The one I kicked, was wearing a Jebella not a white raincoat.”

“Good for you,” Marty smiled. “Where did you learn Martial arts?”

“In the school of ‘hit-first-then-ask-later’.”

“You were quick to spot them.”

Georgie shrugged confessionally.

“School of hard knocks love. I hit out first if there’s any doubt, then run like hell. It worked this time.”

Once Georgie had told Marty enough to satisfy her curiosity they settled down to a light meal before Georgie fell asleep on her bed. Marty soon joined her but they only cuddled each other gently, hugging was too painful for Marty. The following morning, Trevor picked them both up from Hall and drove them home for Christmas. In the car they chatted at length about the attack but Georgie gave little away for she wanted to see how the police handled the case. The reluctance of the police-woman to press forward eagerly with charges intrigued Georgie, but she wanted to see what was restraining the police.

At home, Georgie immediately resumed work in the restaurant, but Marty had to wait until after Christmas because of her injuries. Dot iterated all the hours that Marty lost due to her injuries in case Marty was in a position to sue for damages against her attackers.

Eventually Georgie received a letter inviting her to meet the college principal at the beginning of the Spring term. As they drove up in Trevor’s car She told Marty about the letter.

“How come you received a letter?” Marty asked. “Nobody’s contacted me at all since the first police interview.”

“I’ll find out when I get to college. I’ve got an interview with the principal.”

That afternoon, Trevor excelled himself helping both girls get resettled then advised his daughter Georgie to contact him if there was anything she was dissatisfied about with the interview. The following morning, Georgie was standing outside the principal’s office and straining to make out the conversation within. There were three voices but Georgie only recognised two, namely the principal and the police-woman handling the case. The voices were subdued so Georgie had no idea whom the third person might be. At ten precisely by her watch, she tapped the door and it was opened by the principal immediately.

“Ahh Miss Aitkins, do come in.”

Georgie entered and paused uncertainly before being invited to sit at a table with the others. She studied the owner of the unrecognised voice then returned her gaze to the Principal who promptly explained.

“This is Sergeant Thomas, whom you know of course, then me and finally Mr Azar Karim ibn Wahabi the deputy cultural attaché for The Islamic Kingdom of Durhan.”

“Cultural Attache? Georgie queried suspiciously.

“Uuhm, yes.” The Principal hesitated before plunging in. “It seems there was serious misunderstanding on the night of your assault and Mr Karim would like to try and make amends.”

“Misunderstanding!!” I gasped incredulously. “What sort of misunderstanding?”

“Well; mainly a cultural misunderstanding with religious undertones.”

“It was a lot more than a misunderstanding, it was a violent, collective assault organised with deliberate intent to injure us!” Georgie snapped angrily.

The attaché shifted uncomfortably in his seat before offering a conciliatory deal.

“Miss Aitkins, My government is extremely sorry for the assault, it was entirely due to our representative imam exceeding his remit to guide our Dhuranic students in their religious responsibilities on this campus and other campuses around London.”

Georgie paused for thought before pointing out.

“They wouldn’t have any religious responsibilities on this campus anyway. The college is completely devoted to pure sciences and natural sciences. There is no theology taught here. Are you telling me that this assault was ordered and led by jihadists?”

“I would not put it as strongly as that.”

“But he, or they, came from your country; sent by your government.”

“Unintentionally and accidentally, yes. The terrorist cell he belongs to, managed to infiltrate their way into the educational branch of our cultural exchange arrangement.”

“He’s still responsible for some violent criminal assaults. That can’t go unpunished.”

The police sergeant intervened.

“Unfortunately, the Iman is a direct employee of the Dhuranic diplomatic team and he therefore enjoys diplomatic immunity.”

“What from criminal prosecution for violent assault and GBH!”

“Sadly, yes, but our foreign office has demanded his immediate recall.”

“Big deal!” Georgie cursed. “How fast is immediate?”

“It will take about a week or so,” the attaché confirmed.

“So all the time we’ve been home for Christmas, that pervert has been walking freely around London college campuses.”

“The Dhurhan diplomatic corps needed your affirmation.”

“Well they’ve bloody got it and tell them not to send any more violent perverts to London! God knows we’ve got enough home-grown ones.”

“I’m afraid there’s little more the college can do Miss Aitkin. We’ll be tightening security checks on any staff allowed special access to the college.” The principal apologised,

“What good is that when even if you catch the culprits they are outside the law. The whole bloody business stinks.”

With that said, Georgie realised there was little to be achieved so she made her excuses and left. Moments later, the police sergeant caught her on the stairs.

“What are your feelings about that mess.”

“I’m bloody angry. Those bastards always get away with shit. I’m told he actually lives on Campus at the City college; it’s a disgrace considering all the female students and gays who attend all the art and theatrical courses there.”

“Well, he’ll be gone in a week.”

“Thank God!” Georgie finished angrily as the police sergeant slid into her patrol car.

However, Georgie’s mind was working quickly and she walked quickly to the student’s union building to get the telephone number from the Terf poster pinned discretely to the corner of the last information board. Minutes late she was talking to the Terf who had approached her about joining their organisation.

“Why the change of heart?” The Terf asked.

“You’ve heard that four of us were attacked just a few yards from Hall.”

“Yes, but they’ve caught the ringleader.”

“Yeah, he’s a bloody imam attached to the University of London. He goes around organising morality patrols and worse.”

“Well they’ve got him now, how badly were your friends hurt?”

“Gbh; but no action’s being taken, he’s got diplomatic immunity and he’s been recalled home to Dhuran. He gets off scot free.”

“You’re joking!”

“No shit. He lives in a flat that doubles as a mosque on City campus. Haven’t you got any uuhm, friends.”

“Was it definitely him?”

“Definitely. My body cam got a perfect mug shot and video. It’s him all right, the Dhuran embassy have more or less confirmed it by recalling him. I can print out a picture for you if you want clear evidence, but it’s a drop and crop so it’ll be untraceable”

“Leave it with us then. We Terfs have got friends in low places.”

“Thanks, now wipe your phone. I’ve used a burner.”

“Definitely.” The Terf affirmed and Georgie smiled a tight little smile. “Oh the irony,” she grinned to herself, “if the Terf but knew she was talking to a trans.”

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