The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2159 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Chelsea won the encounter with whoever they were playing so we had no long faces, but watching her at the supper table having a biscuit and some milk before bed, playing with her hair just confuses me. Has she learned this from the other girls or is it innate?

The next day was Thursday and I was up early and took Danni with me when I took the girls to school. I asked her if she wanted a look round but she was quite emphatic she didn’t.

I did drag her round Waitrose supermarket in Southsea and we bought a leg of lamb plus all the vegetables we’d need for a decent dinner. We also got some makings for dessert–a pack of pudding rice, some extra milk and some sugar–soft brown variety.

I put the meat and the rice pudding in the oven, it was ten o’clock and should be done by midday. The meat I’d plastered in garlic and rosemary with some mint sprinkled on it, the rice pudding–well, pudding rice with milk and sugar and some cinnamon sprinkled on top of it–just for a change, a traditional British pudding not fruit salad and low fat cream because we’re all watching our figures crap.

Once it was all done I breastfed little Lizzie who is calling me ‘Ma ma,’ all the time and it worries me. Neal seems to take one step forward and two back and I wonder if he’ll ever be able to care for his own child. Phoebe is quite good and spends time with her when she comes back from either college or the salon, but it’s Stella or I who get the job of providing most of the protein.

Thankfully she’s a very good baby and we have very little trouble with her except for a while when she was teething, but otherwise she’s a happy wee soul who causes minimal work. Jacquie changes her most mornings and sometimes feeds her if one of us has expressed any milk.

Lizzie was sitting in the baby recliner being watched carefully by the cat, though once she squealed a few times the cat went off to get her ear drums repaired. At eleven I checked everything, basted the meat and shoved the par boiled potatoes into roast. Then it was prepare the vegetables–a job for Danielle–and didn’t she whinge about it. While she was doing that I got the local riding stables to email me their charges and the other bits and pieces Simon had asked me to get. Yeah, I know he was going to do it but I agreed to instead of it falling to his PA, she has enough to do already and occasionally she looks out for me, so it’s a sort of quid pro quo.

Lizzie Alexander arrived bearing a bunch of flowers, Jacquie let her in and showed her through to the kitchen where I was chopping mint. We had a little hug and air kiss and Danielle, whom I’d sent to change into a tidier outfit, came in.

“So who’s this,” asked Lizzie.

“This is Danielle.”

Danni nodded hello and went off to lay the table. The kitchen has a large table, so we’d eat there.

I finished the mint sauce and placed it on the table Lizzie stood watching me. “So how many of you live in this old place?”

“Let’s see, there’s, Daddy, Simon, Stella, Jacquie, Julie, Phoebe, Sammi, Danielle, Trish, Livvie, Mima, Cate, Puddin’, Fiona and me; plus Bramble the cat and Kiki the dog.”

“And Lizzie, Mummy,” Jacquie reminded me.

“And Lizzie, she’s the baby daughter of a colleague of mine whose wife died shortly after the baby was born and he was taken ill with shock and grief. I’m fostering her until he’s well enough to have her back. She’s a bonny wee thing, isn’t she Jacquie?”

“She’s gorgeous,” smiled Jacquie.

“Oh this is her? She’s beautiful.” Lizzie made a fuss of little Lizzie, who obliged her with gurgles, and chortles and chuckles–plus the odd ear shattering squeal. I suspect the cat was twitching as a consequence of them, despite being the other side of the house.

I dished up the dinner and Lizzie ate her share and when she saw the homemade rice pudding, she licked her lips and tucked in. I sent Danni off to do some schoolwork on her computer and Lizzie and I sat in my study with a cuppa. Jacquie brought the baby through and I popped the front of my top and slapped her on my breast. Lizzie’s eyes nearly popped out.

“I didn’t know you could do that?”

“Yes, I fed Catie too.”

“How did you manage that–did you have to take special hormones?”

“It started spontaneously, don’t ask me why because I don’t know.”

“Wow, you’re a woman of mystery, Cathy.”

“Just a bit,” I smiled.

“She was lucky you still had milk.”

“She was actually, because I was thinking of stopping with Cate then this landed in my lap.”

“When’s your colleague coming to reclaim his property?”

“I have no idea. We think he’s doing well and then he slips back, it’s very sad.”

“I’m sure it is. Isn’t there a risk she’s going to think you’re her mother?”

“It does worry me a bit, but for the moment I suspect she’s better off with us than in a foster home. Phoebe is Neal’s sister so she has got a family member here to keep an eye on her.”

“I might be mistaken, but didn’t you have son who was very good at soccer?”

I blushed, “Um–that’s a bit of an issue at the moment...” and I explained to her what had happened in France and the consequences since.

“So he doesn’t know if he wants to be a girl or a boy?”

“Essentially, that’s about it.”

“Poor kid.”

“Exactly.”

“Still he’s probably in the most tolerant household in Southern England.”

“I wonder if that’s a help or a hindrance.”

“Surely it’s a help, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t. I wonder if we’re too accepting so it doesn’t help him choose.”

“Oh, but then you’re letting him choose and experiment with gender roles.”

“Yes I know, but if he continues vacillating it’s all going to change when puberty happens.”

“Why?”

“His body will masculinise. If we knew for sure that he wanted to stay female, we could buy him some time by delaying puberty for a few months or so.”

“And if he stayed as a girl?”

“Then she’d be put on oestrogens to give her a female puberty.”

“God, it’s bad enough when your body and mind agree on things, it must be awful when they don’t.”

“It was.”

She blushed, “I’m sorry, Cathy, seeing you sitting there with a baby suckling from you–it makes me forget your history; but then as I told you when you came to us that I’d always seen you as more of a girl than a boy, and I’m sure loads of students and some of the staff thought you were a grunge girl.”

“Gee thanks, I know some of my stuff was a bit shapeless, but I had no interest at all in men’s clothing.”

“Or in being a man.”

“No–I felt so out of place trying to conform enough to not attract attention to myself.”

“Well it certainly looks as if you’ve found yourself and fulfilled your potential.”

“I suppose I have, but I’ve been exceptionally lucky.”

“You have by being so feminine to start with, no one could tell by looking at you that you weren’t a biological female.”

We chatted for a bit longer and I asked Jacquie to collect the girls. I invited Lizzie to stay and meet them, which she did.