Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 934 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

We spent a good couple of hours checking out the shops–I could have spent a fortune, but didn’t. Siân spent quite a bit buying some expensive shoes in a rather exclusive boutique type shop. I rarely go inside them, because I know they’re so expensive.

Once we had stopped talking about our sexuality, we were just three ordinary girls out shopping. In some ways I wish neither she nor Stella had mentioned it because it interrupted my thinking. Does that mean I’m homophobic? Gosh I hope not.

Siân bought Julie a gorgeous top–it was pink shimmering silk with little cap sleeves and a sweetheart neck. When you’re as young as Julie, and as skinny as she is, you can wear almost anything.

We stopped for lunch in an Italian restaurant, which was more expensive than I’d usually pay–but then I’ve been used to making my money go further. Siân was saying her dad had left her ten thousand and she was busy spending it. The money my parents left is in the bank–or most of it is, I have spent very little of it. I’ve never been used to having lots of it–and whilst my parents were far from poor, I was encouraged to be frugal, which I don’t think is a bad thing.

Siân had kept in touch with several of our school contemporaries, unlike me. They seemed happy with her alternative lifestyle and she urged me to talk with them as they’d probably accept mine too.

“I had nothing in common with them in school–I can’t believe I have anything in common with them now.”

“Cathy, you should give it a try–we all need roots.”

“I’m rooted enough with my family and friends as they are now.”

“So how many friends have you got?”

“I’ve never counted them, why?”

“I’ll bet it isn’t many–who don’t have some professional involvement too.”

“What’s that got to do with it? We all make friends through our work.”

“We should also make friends from outside work–to balance things.”

“Why? I’m quite happy as I am. I know several people from the university and still have one or two friends from Sussex. I’ve made friends through Simon and Stella, as well.”

“Don’t forget the dishy nature man, Mummy–he’s dreamy.”

“So who’s this who gets your daughter all hot and bothered?” teased Siân.

“I have no idea–oh, you mean, Gareth Sage, the county officer for Natural England–he is rather nice.”

“Auntie Stella thinks so, doesn’t she?”

“So isn’t the old dragon wed yet?”

“Stella, no–her fiancé was killed in a car smash.” I thought of Des and felt a sense of grief.

“You okay, Cathy?” asked Siân.

“Yeah, I knew him as well–nice chap, he was in school with Simon.”

“Is that how you met him?”

“No, he was there at the incident now so well known via Youtube. He was a film maker and journalist. He did much of the filming for the dormouse film.”

“Did he die before it was finished?”

“Yes, I managed to get another cameraman to complete it–he’s good too.”

“Oh well if ever you get negative about Simon, you could always splice some frames with this other chap.”

“I doubt it, Siân, he’s gay.”

“Oh dear, they do seem to spoil your party, don’t they?”

“Do they? I don’t see how.”

“I think, Siân is cool,” Julie opined.

“Your foster child has exquisite taste.” Siân smiled at Julie who blushed but enjoyed the attention.

“Don’t listen to her, Julie–it’s old Welsh flannel.”

“That’s right, play the racist card,” she joked.

I called for the bill, and had to almost fight Siân to pay for the meal. It was okay, but I’ve had nicer tagliatelle in far less salubrious surroundings. It cost nearly ninety pounds for the three lunches–I could have fed us all for several days for that. Oh well–I wasn’t going to show any weakness in front of my old school chum.

“I think we should go halves on the bill,” she suggested.

“No, there were two of us–so I got it. Remember you bought Julie a top as well.”

“Well it looked so delightful on her–she looked proper pretty, she did,” the latter part of this statement was said in an exaggerated Welsh accent.

“Dew dew, proper pretty,” I replied in an equally false accent. I suppose Siân did originate in Wales, but I’d never heard her talk with an accent, so only her name gave her away.

“Look yer yew, arrew takin’ the micky?” she retorted.

“I surrender, look you,” I said and we both fell about laughing with Julie watching bemused as two grown women almost rolled around the floor in fits of laughter. We had to go to the loo and repair our makeup afterwards.

It was things like this which reminded me how much I’d missed Siân’s company, although Stella had replaced it to some extent.

“Were you two like this in school?” Julie asked as we left the restaurant.

“Yes and no,” I tried to answer, “our relationship was very different–you tell her, Siân.”

“Cathy, wasn’t Cathy in those days, but even in disguise as a boy, I could see the inner girl–I think I told you once didn’t I?”

“Yes, remember that day when they’d made me wear that silly scrunchie, and I was getting all sorts of flack and you told me to camp it up and get my ears pierced or wear makeup.”

“Oh God, yes–you were talking about jumping off the bridge, and I told you not to, but to defy them and make yourself more feminine. Didn’t I say, I saw you as a girl or something?”

“You did–and that old lady enquired what was wrong when I started to cry and you told her I was on my period.”

“Couldn’t she see you were a boy?” asked Julie.

“No–she had long hair held up in a very girly ponytail by the scrunchie, that and her very soft features, meant she looked like a girl much of the time anyway–loads of the other kids used to call her Charlotte. I wonder how many of them realise how right they were for the wrong reasons?”

“I hated those bloody scrunchies they made me wear–these days they’d have been prosecuted.”

“Good thing too–though it’s still difficult for kids who are different,” Siân lamented. “I have a couple of girl patients who think they’re gay, but are terrified to come out because of what would happen in school and in the home.”

“Yeah, I got bullied in school,” said Julie and my stomach flipped–now Siân would get to learn Julie was transgendered.

“Why should you be bullied?” asked Siân.

“Loads of kids are every day. The bullies go looking for kids to beat up or rob–sometimes it was my turn.”

I silently breathed a sigh of relief, Julie had realised what was going on and had corrected her earlier mistake. Part of me felt guilty about deceiving Siân, and part of me felt I had no reason to disclose Julie’s full status, and which if she didn’t guess, would boost Julie’s self esteem no end–especially as Siân was a doctor, so would presumably look differently at people.

In a much cheaper shoe shop, I succumbed to a new pair of red heeled shoes and Julie acquired a new pair of kitten heeled black shoes. Trish and Livvie would be furious, so I bought each of them a new handbag and Mima a couple of pairs of fancy tights. The boys, I bought some jeans each.

We said our goodbyes and agreed to meet up again before too long. Then Julie and I drove home after I paid a hefty fee for the car park–it really is daylight robbery.

“Did Siân know about me, Mummy?”

“Why?”

“She told me if ever I wanted to have a look around Salisbury, she’d happily put me up for a night or two.”

“Oh did she now–in which case I suspect she didn’t know, but then, why should she?”

“She is a doctor, Mummy.”

“Perhaps she’s not a very good one, or is it just that you look so convincing, she couldn’t spot it? I honestly don’t know.”

“Should we have told her?”

“What for? She’s not treating you, she isn’t having a relationship with you–so why did we have to tell her?”

“I felt like I was conning her.”

“Deceiving her?”

“Yeah, that’s a better word.”

“You were. I suspect you’d find it more difficult to con another TG person, but who knows? You’re young enough to develop a more female body than I did.”

“What? You’ve got a lovely bod, Mummy, a nice bum and tits as they say.”

“Who says?” I pretended to be cross.

“Um–Daddy did, why?” She blushed and looked very guilty.

“No reason–just have to keep you on your toes–and don’t let me hear you describing me like that–or you’ll regret it.”

“Yes, Mummy,” she sighed and I smirked as I drove down the motorway.