Previously...

‘Can you go to the College Hospital?’

‘Why, what up, is it one of the twins?’

‘No, Andrea was attacked outside school by some thugs. She evidently didn’t remove some mascara before going this morning. She’s been beaten up quite badly.’

‘Oh, Mummy!’

In ten minutes we had arrived at the hospital and I was not in a good state, imagining all sorts of horrors.

We parked as near as possible in the car park, but it wasn’t near enough for me, as Daddy insisted that I stay with him rather than him dropping me off. I noticed distractedly that Charlotte–one of my minders–was close by and getting out of her car. I suppose it’s good that I never realised they were around when I was out and about.

We rushed into A&E and were directed towards a side cubicle. Monica, Claire and Mummy were outside. On the other side of the corridor a female police officer was standing, waiting–

‘What’s happening?’ Daddy asked. For some reason, I had lost the power of speech.

‘The doctors are with her now,’ Monica replied.

‘What happened then?’

‘She was caught in an alley,’ Mummy continued, as Monica was too upset to continue and I was hugging Claire. ‘There were four of them; they attacked her in that flaming alley by the side of the school. I wish that they would close that off; it’s a bloody dangerous place. Anyway, they caught her and–and de-bagged her. She was wearing girls’ undies and as soon as they saw them, they began hitting her. That’s all she was able to tell us before she lost consciousness. We don’t know the full damage yet–the doctors won’t say–but she’s being prepped for surgery at this very moment.’

At that, I lost it and both Claire and I burst into tears.

And now the story continues…

Two hours later, our minds were in a frazzle. We had heard reports that Andrea was still in surgery and was holding up, but that was it.

Vending machine drinks and food were all we had to keep us going, not that I was hungry but eating and drinking was something to do and kept us going — a bit.

A plain clothed policeman came to see us while we were waiting and told us that three of the alleged assailants had been caught — helped by the grainy CCTV cameras at each end of the alley. The fourth had, according to the policeman, ‘done a runner.’

Daddy had several calls on his mobile asking for a reaction to the news. How the press found out, I would never know and how Andrea’s connection to me was apparent common knowledge was another puzzler. It was good that the press had no idea where Andrea was — hospital confidentiality had evidently been assured.

My mobile was switched off and there was no way I wanted to talk to the press or anyone else. As far as I knew, they didn’t have my number, but that can change.

Monica and Claire were red eyed with crying, as was I. Mummy was the strong one, as she always is. Her Samaritan training had taught her how to deal with things like this and she was the rock that we all needed. We were lucky that Mrs Moon was looking after the twins, so that was one less worry to think about.

Daddy was constantly on the phone to somebody or other. I think that he does that to keep his mind busy.

Every time a door opened we stopped what we were doing and looked up. It was hard seeing all the people walk by, nurses, doctors, ancillary staff and others. To them everything was normal. I couldn’t understand it when two doctors walked by, laughing and joking to each other. Didn’t they realise that people were desperately ill and dying here?

Eventually, a woman doctor in scrubs came through a screen door and walked tiredly over to us.

‘You are Andrew’s family?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I’m her mum.’

‘Her? Oh yes, sorry, it’s been a long one, what’s her female name?

‘Andrea.’

‘Okay, look, she is in recovery at the moment and is going to be okay. They kicked her about a bit and she has three cracked ribs and a broken arm, but that wasn’t worrying us. The problems were her other injuries, she’s been kicked several times in the groin area and there is no easy way to put this, we had to remove her testicles. In addition to that—if that was enough; she had a ruptured spleen and had a lot of internal bleeding. We had to do a splenectomy, but you can live without a spleen. It took a while to stabilise her though, and to be frank, we nearly lost her twice, but she’s strong and we think she will pull through okay. She’s sleeping now and will not wake until the morning, so I suggest that you go home, get some rest and then come back refreshed tomorrow.’

‘I am staying,’ said Monica, ‘but the rest of you go home. If anything happens, I’ll let you know.’

‘But mum...’

‘Don’t “but mum” me; go home, all of you. I want you as fresh as daisies tomorrow.’

Monica in that mood brooks no arguments, so after some more token protests, we left her at the hospital and made our way home.

I slept little that night, worrying about Andrea and what those terrible boys did to her and woke up the next morning feeling worse than I had when I went to bed. It was seven am and I decided that lazing about in bed wouldn’t do me any good, so I got up, put on my trackies and went for a run in the grounds.

It was cool and fresh and the run helped clear my head and make me feel at least a bit more alive. After that, I went to the indoor swimming pool and did several laps. This refreshed me even more and I felt at least semi-human when, after a shower and change into a top and short skirt, I made my way to the breakfast room and joined the others at the table.

‘I spoke to mum a few minutes ago and she said that Andrea had a quiet night. I said that I would be going to the hospital this morning, anyone else coming?’ said Claire.

We all said yes except Mummy, who had to look after the twins but would go later.

~ §~

About an hour later, we arrived at the hospital. Monica was outside the room where Andrea was, sipping some coffee from a polystyrene cup. She looked tired, but smiled as she saw us.

‘How is she?’ asked Daddy.

‘Groggy and drugged up with pain killers. She can’t remember a thing about what happened.’

‘It often happens like that,’ he replied.

‘Mmm; the police have been in there to try to get a statement out of her, but she’s not making much sense. She did say that the last thing that she remembered was going out of the school gates and that was it — a blank after that.’

‘Can we see her?’ I asked.

‘When the nurses have changed her dressings. It shouldn’t be long now. Be warned, she’s not a very pretty sight at the moment and her face is a bit bruised and battered.’

‘If I could get hold of those slime balls...’said Daddy angrily.

‘Join the queue.’ I said.

‘They caught the fourth one at the railway station, he was crying, evidently.’

‘Poor love,’ said Claire sarcastically.

‘They are to appear at the Magistrates court this morning; they won’t get bail evidently, despite the fact that they are only 15 or 16.’

Just then, two nurses came out and told us that it would be all right to go in now.

We filed in and I was immediately taken aback by Andrea just laying there looking very poorly and wearing one of those shapeless hospital gowns. Her face was almost as white as the gown. She gave us a ghostly smile as we gathered around the bed and then found some chairs. Monica hung back a bit and sat in the corner; she had been there all night so this was nothing new.

‘How are you love?’ I asked, putting my hand over hers.

‘Tired and a bit achy.’

‘I bet; mind you, you always have some excuse to stay in bed!’

She smiled at my feeble joke, but I could see that she was suffering.

I always find it a bit difficult visiting sick people; you never know what to say. It was especially difficult for me as I loved Andrea so much and I hated to see her suffering like that. Claire tried to cheer things up a bit by telling her about her latest shopping trip, but her heart wasn’t in it and it was, to tell you the truth, a bit hard going.

Andrea kept dropping off due to the meds and it wasn’t long before we said our goodbyes with promises that we would see her that evening. Claire stayed with Monica at the hospital and I intended to do the evening shift with Daddy or Mummy later.

It was a sober Daddy and I that went to the club directly from the hospital. We had a few things that needed sorting out. A new advertising campaign to further girls’ football had been started by Melchester and a few of the other big clubs. The advertising and accounting people had crunched the numbers and it turned out that wherever I played, the female support significantly increased. Women had already been coming to watch the games in increasing numbers, but now that a real life female was playing at the highest level meant that the clubs could get a significant increase in income if this was encouraged and expanded somehow.

I wasn’t the only good women footballer and I had always said that others should follow and try to break into the male game. However, I didn’t really have my heart in it at the moment, but as Daddy said, it would take my mind off our other worries for a while so I had agreed to go and do my bit.

As we arrived, I was sort of mobbed by fans, who for some reason had managed to get into the players and staff car park. After signing several autographs and avoiding any searching questions, our security managed to extricate us and we were able to get into the main office building. Another enquiry, I supposed, into the security at the club would take place.

One of the things I didn’t like about being me was that I no longer had any privacy. I had accepted it as one of the things that I had to put up with, but sometimes I would have liked to just go out, enjoy myself and maybe have a Big Mac without being pounced on by one and all.

The meeting went on a bit and to be frank, I was bored. I wasn’t into all this high finance stuff, so I just signed on the dotted line and left them all to get on with it while I wandered down to the pitch and sat in the dugout. I was pleased that there weren’t any stadium tours that day, as I didn’t want to gawped at.

I sat on Mr Macpherson’s seat and just tried to relax. Out on the pitch the ground staff were doing their thing, white lining and sorting out divots on the pitch at one end while the mowers were mowing at the other. I was left alone and for that I was grateful. I was well known enough at the club not to be hassled for being there. Looking around the empty seats, it was hard to imagine the difference on match days when the place was a seething caldron with opposing fans trying to out sing and out insult one another. Just the thought of the games that I had been lucky to be involved in, set my heart thumping. This was what it was all about, the games and the excitement and the heady rush that you get when you score a goal, especially against goalkeepers that like to trash you in newspapers.

I heard a noise behind me and looked around.

‘Hi Daddy.’

‘Hi yourself, are you ready to go?’

‘Have you finished all that high powered financial stuff?’

‘Yes, all done; do you want to know what’s been decided?’

‘Is it important?’

‘Not at the moment; I know that you have a lot on your mind. Let’s go home.’

With one more look around, I got up and followed him out of the stadium and we were soon making our way through the traffic to the haven I called home.

~ §~

Mummy was feeding the little darling when we got back so I just excused myself and went up to my room. I changed into a skirt and top and then took the weight off my brain and lay down on the bed.

Taking a chance, I fired up my phone and was pleased that there were no messages and unanswered calls from undesirables. It was good that my number was top secret, but I did wonder how long it would take the sleaze-ball journo’s to get hold of it. If that happened, I would change the number again.

There was a text from Claire, though.

‘Sis okay, feeling a bit more awake and wants ice cream -. c u l8tr

I just replied okay and put my phone down. It was good that Andrea was feeling better. She had a lot of problems at the moment and I was the one who intended to wipe her fevered brow and make it all better.

I jumped as my phone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi it’s me.’

‘Andrea, you can talk!’

‘Course I can, silly. I sent mum and Claire away, they were getting me down. I’m bored, are you coming up?’

‘Yes soon; we will have a bite to eat, there’s no way am I going to eat anything else from the hospital canteen, I don’t know where it’s been or where it’s been caught.’

‘Don’t; I have to eat this stuff.’

‘Not for long —erm how long will you be there for?’

‘Another week, they want to watch me after the op. It all went over my head though. I am bored.’

‘Bored?’

‘Didn’t I just say that? I hate green walls and they keep on dropping bed pans. My nerves canna take it cap’n’.

‘You don’t sound anything like Scotty.’

‘Never mind that, just come up. I want a cuddle.’

‘Okay, give us a bit of time and I’ll come up. I think Mummy’s coming but I’ll have to check.’

‘Bring cakes, chocolates, sweeties and anything that doesn’t look or taste anything like grapes, oh, and a clean nightie.’

‘Will do, see yer later alligator.’

‘In a while crocodile.’

When I put my phone down, I had one of my rare but brill ideas. I went down to see Mummy and she said see your father, so I did.

Daddy was in his office trying to look busy, but I just happen to know that he was a twit.

Well he liked to twitter. God knows who he twittered with, but he was forever telling people what he was doing like “I am having dinner” or “I am shaving,” or “I am on the toilet, here’s a picture” and other really interesting things. Anyway, he de-twittered or whatever when I walked in and pretended that he was doing something important like saving the world from financial collapse or something.

I walked up and smiled at him. I may have batted my eyelashes, I can’t remember.

‘What do you want?’ he said in that tone of voice that conveyed a sense of dread and foreboding.

‘Daddykins...’

‘Daddy what?’

‘Kins.’

‘Stop blinking at me like that. Are those false eyelashes?’

‘Au naturel papa.’

‘Mmm,’ he said, not convinced.

‘Have I ever told you how wonderful and handsome you are?’

‘Now I know that you are after something. Have you been taking lessons from your mother?’

‘Me? Never. It’s just that I appreciate how wonderful you have been and I think the sun shines out of your...’

‘Cut the waffle, what do you want?’

I sat down in the easy chair by his desk and looked at him intensely.

‘What?’ he asked, looking uncomfortable.

‘Well, Daddy, I was thinking...’

‘You shouldn’t do that.’

‘Why?’

‘It normally means trouble.’

‘How could you say that?’ I replied giving my face the sort of angelic innocence look that I had been practicing in the privacy of my bathroom.

He sighed, took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes.

‘Susan.’

‘Yes Daddy?’

‘Just tell me what you want before I have to look more closely at your credit card statement and what you use it on.’

I cut to the chase.

‘Well Daddy, you know that Andrea is in a dingy room in the hospital and can’t eat the crap...’

‘Susan!’

‘Sorry, the food that she has been given and that it’s noisy and she can’t sleep...’

‘Susan...’

‘...and she needs all the peace and quiet that she can get so that she comes home quickly and...’

‘Susan...’

‘...she hasn’t even got a TV in there and I consider that to be a crime against humanity...’

‘SUSAN, SHUT UP!’

My mouth shut like a trap, nearly catching my tongue. I raised my shaped eyebrows and batted my eyelids at him again — a difficult manoeuvre at the best of times. I may have pouted, but only slightly.

He looked at me a whimsical smile on his face. I don’t like whimsical, especially when it involves parental units.

‘Right, I have your attention.’

‘But...’ his look stopped me from saying anything else. I was as dumb as a by-election candidate who had just lost her deposit and had come last to the man from the Monster Raving Loony Party.

‘I have spoken to your mother and to Monica and we have arranged for Andrea to be moved to the private wing where she will be more comfortable and may even like the food — I think that we can afford it, don’t you?’

I just nodded.

‘Cat got your tongue?’

I just nodded.

I just hate it when parents do the right thing, don’t you?

~ §~

After a light tea comprising steak and kidney pudding, mash, peas and gravy you could cut with a knife, followed by apple pie and custard which you couldn’t cut with a knife, Mummy and I went to the hospital. Mummy knew where to go and we went into the private wing, where green lino and slightly darker green walls were replaced with carpets and tasteful wallpaper in pastel colours. Piped muzak whispered in the background as the luxury lift erm lifted us to the penthouse floor where Andrea’s new room was.

We were met by a nurse in a pristine white uniform who, in her spare time, advertised toothpaste, or should have, with gleamers like that.

‘Hello, are you here to see someone?’ she asked in a slightly Sloan Ranger accent.

‘Yes please,’ replied Mummy. ‘Andrea...’

‘Oh yes, she is in the end room on the left. Let me show you.’

We followed her and I was green with envy. She had legs up to her chin and a body that some shallow men would throw themselves off cliffs for. But what had she got that I didn’t have? Don’t answer that.

She knocked on a door and opened it, motioning us through.

‘I’ll leave you, but please tinkle me if I can help.’

The thought of my “tinkling” her made me feel slightly nauseous, but all such unpleasant thoughts left me as I saw Andrea in bed and looking decidedly healthier than that morning. She had a nice clean nightie on and had done something with her now longer hair. She even had some makeup on which helped to hide most of the bruises.

‘Thank God for Max Factor,’ I thought in passing as I started squealing and running over to her. I nearly tripped up, as the carpet had a thick pile and my heels were higher than medically safe or prudent.

‘Hi Honey,’ I said as I hugged the bits that weren’t covered in bandages and plaster.

‘Hi yourself,’ she said as she gave me a bit of a soppy kiss, hampered by her slightly swollen top lip.

‘How are you dear?’ said Mummy, ‘oh, put her down, Sue.’

I disengaged with difficulty and sat down in one of the distinctly non NHS type comfy chairs as Mummy dragged up another and sat the on other side.

‘Not bad,’ said Andrea, ‘I still ache in places that I never knew I had and where my thingies were, it’s a bit sore.’

‘Thingies?’ I asked, then remembered and went a bit red, ‘ooh, I know,’

‘Susan, try to be a bit more sensitive.’

‘I bet she’s sensitive...’

‘Susan Hurst, behave,’

I looked at Andrea.

‘Sorry Andi, I didn’t think; you did want to lose those anyway, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but I would have preferred proper surgery not the boot variety and I wanted to have it done when I chose to, not before then.’

‘Sorry love, I’m not very good at this sick bed stuff, I was trying to cheer you up.’

‘You did, my little dumpling.’

‘So I’m fat now?’

‘Don’t be daft; you are so thin I can almost see through you,’

We giggled at that.

Mummy coughed. I didn’t like that cough. It was the cough of someone who wanted to bring up an unpleasant subject.

‘Andrea dear, can you still not remember what happened?’

‘No Auntie, it’s a blank, and to be truthful, I don’t want to remember.’

‘That’s understandable. Look, how long will you be off school?’

‘The doctors say at least three weeks, maybe more.’

‘What about your exams?’

‘If I miss them I’ll have to do a resit. Mum says that she has spoken to the school and they are cool about it.’

‘You’re not going back to that school, are you?’ I asked, my flabber being well and truly ghasted at the thought.

She looked uncomfortable.

‘To be honest, I don’t want to, but I don’t have much choice.’

‘Yes, go private,’

‘No school would accept me as a girl, and I don’t fancy going anywhere else in boy mode. Anyway, private schools are expensive and we can’t afford it.’

‘I can,’ I said, perhaps a touch too smugly.

‘We have talked about this before Sue; I don’t want your money.’

‘What’s the difference, when we are married, what’s yours is mine and what’s mine I keep...no that’s wrong...’

‘Don’t go all dizzy blond with me, Susan Hurst. I know what you are about. You are going to try to get around me, as usual, but I’m not taking your money...’

‘If you girls have quite finished. Andrea, I have spoken with Monica and we think that there is a way around this. There are a couple of schools that will accept children with gender issues. They are private, but scholarships are available for the right girl. Monica was going to speak to you about it, but as the question has come up, will you agree that we can make enquiries and then give you some more details?’

‘That sounds cool, Auntie, thanks.’

‘Good, well I am going to leave you two for a few minutes and then Susan, we have to get home. I am missing the twins, and you have training tomorrow morning. Good night Andrea, I’m glad that you feel a bit better. I will come up with Monica tomorrow.’

‘Can you bring the twins?’

‘If you like,’

‘Great!’

She kissed Andrea and then with a wave, she left us for a bit.

I couldn’t do what I wanted to do with Andrea as her stitches and other bits and pieces wouldn’t permit it, but we made do and managed to show each other how much we were in love.

After she let go of me, I saw by my purple Swatch that I had to get moving soon.

‘Are they treating you okay here?’ I asked.

‘Yes, only one idiot said I should be referred to as a male, but a couple of burly male nurses sat on him and he was taken away and executed — well slapped about with a wet fish anyway. Everyone else has treated me like a lady, which I’m not, as I’m young and have an attitude.’

‘Are you in any pain still?’

‘A bit, but the neat gin from the IV and the tablets keep most of it away and make me feel like giggling all the time.’

I looked at the clear liquid in the IV drip and thought for a moment.

Nah, they wouldn't use an IV for gin, they would put it in glass with some tonic and if she was lucky, ice.

I looked at my watch again and could imagine Mummy frowning and tapping her foot.

‘I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, oh, the bag has some nighties and other essentials like girlie mags, your makeup bag, some sweets and somehow a packet of Choccie Hobnobs fell in it.’

‘Cool. Ge’ us a kiss pet.’

‘I don’t like your Welsh accent.’

‘It was Geordie.’

‘If you say so love; keep taking the pills; they might give you some sense.’

‘Ha Ha,’

We kissed and after a few terms of endearment, I made my way out.

Outside in the corridor, Mummy was waiting. She was reading some boring mumsie type magazine and on the front cover it said “My man has a girl in every port”. She was well into it and didn’t see me until I coughed politely.

She looked up, slightly startled.

‘Hello Susan, ready to go?’

‘Yup.’

We left.

We went down in the lift and it sort of swooshed quietly as we descended, the muzac was the same as when we went up. Hell would be being caught in this lift for more than ten minutes and Chinese water torture would have been infinitely more preferable.

My phone chirped and I answered it.

‘Susan.’

‘Oh hi Danni....’

‘We have a situation. The press have found out you are there and why. They have camped outside and have all the exits covered. The admin people at the hospital have called the police, but you need to go back up to Andrea’s room and stay there until I can give you the all clear. Let me speak to your mum.’

I handed the phone over to a quizzical parental unit and when the lift stopped we just stayed in it and sent back up again while Mummy found out what was happening.

As we went back up, the muzak grated on my nerves but not as much as the fact that only a few people knew that we were coming to the hospital and why.

I wondered if we had an enemy in the camp.

Please leave comments and kudo thingies...thanks! ~Sue