Get A Life 11

‘A…Alistair, its you!’
‘In the flesh.’
‘Oh.’


Get A Life!

By Susan Brown

Chapter 11

Previously …

Sitting in the middle of the kitchen was the dog. She had what looked like a silly grin on her face. I hoped against hope that she wouldn’t bark. Apart from the earth shattering headache that would cause, I wondered if the windows would take it.

She wagged her tail.

Then I noticed in the corner, a man with his back to me He was wearing an old t-shirt covered in paint and other unknown substances and faded jeans. He had a rather nice bum, but that was beside the point. I was off men…

He was fiddling about with something on the wall.

‘Hello.’ I said, smiling.

The man turned around.

He had his finger in his mouth and looked faintly ridiculous.

But that wasn’t what I was thinking at the time.

‘Hello Chloe,’ he said removing his digit. ‘I see that you have met my dog, Rosie,’

It was Alistair.

And, och aye the noo; the story continues…

‘A…Alistair, its you!’

‘In the flesh.’

‘Oh.’

There was one of those pregnant pauses where I had no idea what to say and judging by the grin on his blasted face, he seemed to like my discomfort.

‘So, you’re here.’ I said lamely.

‘Aye, just doing my helping the community bit.’

Rosie the dog then started sniffing around me and then, regretfully stuck his nose up against my rear end and sniffed loudly.

‘Eeek! Can you please control your dog?’

‘She’s doing what comes naturally.’

‘There is nothing natural about what she’s doing. Is she some sort of shaggy pervert?

‘You don’t know much about dogs, do you?’

‘They have four legs and a tail and they bark.’

‘But they are man’s best friend.’

‘What about women?’

‘Them too.’

This was getting us nowhere, so I changed the subject after shooing Rosie away from my nether (or is that never) regions for the tenth time.

‘Erm, you may be wondering why I hurried off from your cottage.’

‘Hurried off? Oh yes, you disappeared when my sister turned up. She has that affect on people sometimes.’

‘I was erm, under the impression that you were having relations with her.’

‘I was.’

‘What!’

‘She is a relation, she’s my sister.’

‘Are you being facetious?’

‘I would be, if I knew what you meant.’

I looked at him and realised that he was extracting the Michael. I took a deep breath.

‘Look, I’m sorry I ran off like a scared schoolgirl…’

‘Yes you did, but I forgive you.’

‘Forgive, what is there to forgive?’

‘You just said sorry.’

‘What? Oh right.’

I stood there not knowing what else to say as he looked at me with a smile playing on his lips.

He came over and put his hands on my shoulders.

‘Shall we start again?’

‘If you like,’ I replied, trying unsuccessfully to sound nonchalant.

I had to know. Looking up at his strong manly face and then quickly back at the dirty floor, I said, ‘you do know that I’m not what I seem?’

‘You aren’t the prettiest girl around here?’

‘No, yes, what? No don’t start that. I mean that I might be a girl inside and dress like one, but until I have the dreaded operation, I’m not all woman.’

‘You look all woman to me.’

‘Yes, but, but I…I was born a…a male and have extra bits that no sane, normal woman would have.’

‘Like what?’

‘Don’t make me say it.’

‘Oh, you mean a penis?’

I nodded, not even liking the P word being mentioned in polite company.

‘There is nothing wrong with a penis. I have one and I’m rather attached to it.’

‘Well, I wish I wasn’t attached to mine.’

My eyes were leaking a bit. I assumed that it was because of the dust in the room…

Before I knew it, I was in his arms.

‘Oh Chloe, what am I going to do with you?’

Without giving me a chance to answer, I felt his warm lips on mine and I lost the ability to think about anything…

A few years later, or it may have been seconds, as my sense of reality and the space time continuum had gone a bit haywire, I came up for air and there he was, looking slightly flushed, almost boyish and with a wicked grin on his face.

‘Erm,’ I said intelligently.

‘Chloe, look at me.’

I looked up into his deep blue eyes and could have dived in without water wings.’

‘You are beautiful and you are a woman. It doesn’t matter that you have those extras. It wouldn’t matter to me anyway, as I’m AC/DC….’

‘What a member of the group, you look too young…’

He sighed.

‘No, you innocent child; I am bi-sexual.’

‘Golly, so you bat for both teams?’

‘Yes, although I rarely bat for anyone at the moment as I’ve been off my game for a while.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I suppose that I have been looking for someone that would excite me and make me happy.’

‘And have you found someone?’ I breathed.

‘Yes, it’s the milkman, there’s something about the way he handles his bottles that really gets me going.’

I thumped him ineffectually on the chest.

‘You pig.’

‘Oink!’

As it was rather dusty inside the cottage, we went outside holding hands and sat on the grass, which, thanks to the various sheep, goats and other animals that seemed to wander in and out at will, was cropped quite short. Mind you, we had to be careful where we sat, as there were copious droppings dotted about.

Rosie appeared and sat down beside us. She seemed to think about things for a moment and then lay down and fell promptly to sleep. I wished I could sleep like that as I was a bit of an insomniac.

Alistair told me a bit about himself and his family. There were various aunts, uncles and cousins dotted about the island and of course he had a drop dead gorgeous sister who I hated naturally as she was prettier than me. Hey, I never said I was perfect and jealousy was part of my nature.

His parents were dead and had been for a number of years. They had died in a car accident in Glasgow, leaving Alistair and Morag to be looked after by an aunt and uncle.

They had been left comfortably off in the will and didn’t need to work, although Alistair was a solicitor and Morag and accountant.

Morag evidently lived with the local vet in another cottage at the other end of the island, close to the foothills of the mountain, with a babbling brook running through the garden. They were deliriously happy, although the local busybodies thought that they should marry and not live in sin.

So my jealousy and tantrums were all for nothing.

I told Alistair more about me. I wont bore you with the details, as unless you fell asleep reading it in a previous riveting chapter, you already know the juicy parts.

‘So, you have always thought that you was a girl?’

‘Yes, I could tell the differences between boys and girls ever since nursery school. Mandy Smith pulled her knickers down in front of everyone and pee’d on the floor. Strange girl, even then.’

‘Riiiight, but just because she did that, you thought that you were a girl, despite the fact that you were penissed?’

‘Nice word, did you just make that up?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Well, it was more the fact that she was pretty and wore lovely dress and her hair was nice and long and tied with ribbons. She, like the other girls like to play girlie games and with their dolls and soft cuddly toys and the boys were expected to be all rough and tumble and do things more manly and general like to get their hands dirty. I was never like that and I shied away from it and sort of found myself more in the company of the girls rather than the boys. The fact that she was sans penis was just a confirmation that girls differed from boys.’

‘Well, I would never have thought that you were a boy in a million years.’

We went over and stood by the garden wall. The beach in front was lovely, with its wide stretch of white sand and the sea breaking gently about a hundred yards away.

‘What a place to live,’ I said, sighing.

‘Yes, it’s a nice spot and because of where it is and the fact that it’s sheltered by the headland, you don’t get problems with high seas.’

We turned to each other and kissed again our mouths opened and our tongues danced the tango. I had never French kissed before and it was doing something to my insides…

We broke off.

‘Look,’ I said rather breathlessly, ‘you hardly know me and I you; should we rush into things too quickly?’

‘Well, I’m not about to rush you into my bedchamber and have my wicked way with you, but I think that I can say that I’m very happy with the way things are going, are you?’

‘Well, if you want to show me your etchings, I wouldn’t…’

Alistair didn’t wait for me to finish, as he leaned in and started kissing me in a way that made me feel as if I might swoon at any moment and make me want to get up close and personal with his etchings, sooner rather than later.

We were interrupted as we heard the sound of a rattling lorry. The engine labouring and coughing as it came closer.

Reluctantly we stopped exploring each other’s tonsils and turned towards the noise, which sounded mechanically terminal.

‘Oh, its Sandy McBride,’ said Alistair, ‘talk about snoggus interruptus…’

We walked over to the road just to see the lorry wheeze to a halt and then Sandy got out, wheezing almost as much as the lorry.

He had a dodgy looking cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and before he could say anything he started coughing. That episode lasted for about a minute with his face getting redder and redder. I was getting a bit concerned for him, but judging by Alistair’s attitude of ignoring it, I assumed that this was Sandy’s normal condition.

After Sandy recovered enough not to require artificial respiration (thank the Lord) he looked us up and down with his rheumy eyes.

‘So, are ye sweet on each other?’

‘Erm,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said Alistair with a grin.

‘Aboot time,’ said Sandy as he wandered off into the cottage without further comment.

‘Does everyone know our business?’

‘More or less. You have to remember; everyone knows everyone and half the people are gossips and the other half listeners. Look, I had better go in after him. He’s a danger to himself when he gets hold of his sledge hammer.’

I suddenly went all shy and didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t so experienced in this boyfriend/girlfriend scenario type of thing.

‘OK,’ I had better be off; people to see places to go and all that.’

I turned away but before I could take one step, He grabbed my arm and I was in his embrace once again. I could get used to this.

Rosie’s bum sniffing trick sort of spoilt the moment and I hoped that she could have therapy or something to cure her of her erm, affliction.

‘Stop that Rosie,’ said Alistair sternly.

Rosie looked up all innocent, as if saying, ‘who me?’

There was the sound of hammering and bricks falling and then a cloud of dust came from the cottage.

The was a fit of coughing and then what sounded like some juice Scottish sayings like ‘up yer erse wi' it,’ and ‘ah yer chanty wrassler.’

‘What’s that in English?’ I asked.

‘Never mind; look, I have to go in before your cottage is demolished. See you tonight, I’ll pick you up at about eight, we’ll find somewhere nice to have something to eat.’

‘As long as it’s not the café.’

He laughed.

‘Don’t worry there is at least one nice restaurant on the island. Smart casual though. Leave the posh frock and tiara at home.’

‘What about my earrings, necklace and bracelet; they are, of course, dripping with expensive cubic zirconia diamonds?’

‘Next time.’

We both laughed.

Then I remembered, I had to see that child’s father about her not so little problem and she was going to meet me at seven.

‘Look, can we make it a bit later as I have something to do first. A small friend has a bit of trouble and has asked me help to sort things out.’

‘Anything I can do?’

‘No, I think I can manage.’

‘All right, how about eight thirty at Auntie’s.’

‘That sounds fine. I’ll see you then.’

After another kiss, I let him go and pootled off down the road on Pinkie, thinking that I was happier now than I had been in a long time. I just hoped that it wasn’t just a dream.

At five to seven the front door bell rang and I was out of the door before Auntie had a chance to ask me anything except, ‘is that you Jenny?’ For someone who is supposed to be as deaf as a post, she had incredible good hearing or does she have bluetooth or radar, like bats?

The child was standing there, wearing white shorts and a blue t-shirt and an unfashionable black woolly bobble hat. For the record, I was wearing a pink top and white crops.

‘Hello,’ I said.

‘Hi, are you coming then?’

‘Yes, lead on, but first, I need to know your name?’

‘My girls name is Maisie Macgregor but Da calls me Jamie.’

‘Well, Maisie lets get on with it, shall we?’

We walked out of the village, saying hello to a few people I didn’t know but they obviously knew both of us. After a few minutes, we went down a side track, through some woods and onto a path that looked well trodden and then we reached a small lane.

As we walked, I wondered how I could help Maisie. If her father was against any notion that his child was a girl, how could I, who was new to the island and had never met him, ever persuade him otherwise?

I was very concerned that Maisie might do something silly if she wasn’t helped. I was under no illusion that the medical profession made youngsters go through hoops before anything is allowed to happen and I understood that as the last thing anyone would want is to make a mistake that couldn’t be rectified. But that leaves girls or boys with similar problems to Maisie’s, very vulnerable. What Maisie needed was sympathetic help, but could I persuade her father to allow her to be helped?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

After walking a further ten minutes without any sign of habitation, we turned a corner and there in front of us was what I would call a traditionally built crofter style cottage, well looked after and really rather pretty.

Maisie was about to go up the path, but I stopped her.

‘Are you sure about this?’

‘No, but if he won’t listen to me, maybe he’ll listen to you.’

‘Does your father know that I’m coming?’

‘Aye, but I haven’t told him why.’

‘He knows that you consider yourself to be a girl?’

‘Mmm.’

Maisie went up to the front door and pushed it open, it wasn’t locked; most doors that I had encountered on the island were not locked, it was that kind of place.

‘Da. I’m home and we have a visitor,’ she shouted.

Just then a big yellow Labrador came rushing up and nearly knocked Maisie over.

‘Och Sandy, get away with ye,’ said Maisie, laughing.

Sandy saw me and with tail wagging she came over and gave me a quick lick on the hand and then rushed back inside.

‘Don’t mind her, she could lick ye ta death but that’s aboot it,’ said Maisie grinning, ‘come on in then.’

I followed Maisie and we went down a short corridor and then turned left into the kitchen. Sitting in a wooden chair was Maisie’s father, stroking Sandy with a slight smile on his face. He was a big man, but he did have a kind face, so that was something.

‘Hello Mr Macgregor,’ I said.

He turned towards me and I noticed for the first time that his eyes were closed. Then I saw the white stick by the chair and deduced with Holmesian clarity that Mr Macgregor was blind.

‘So you are Chloe McKerrell?’

‘Y…yes.’ I said, taken aback slightly.

‘I ken that Jamie didn’t tell you that I do not have the sight Ms McKerrell?’

‘Please call me Chloe, erm no s…he didn’t tell me.’

‘Sorry,’ said Maisie, ‘I forgot.’

‘It makes no difference, I am only sorry that you cannot see, Mr Macgregor.’

‘Call me Peter, please. I lost my sight in the same accident that I lost my wife. Jamie was only three and he has no recollection of what happened or who is Ma was. He was luckily with his Nana and not in the car or he might have been hurt too. Now sit down and I’ll make us a cup of tea.

I sat down and then Mr Macgregor did just that. He never faltered or bump into anything and made the tea quickly and expertly. You would never have known that he was blind and the way he moved about the kitchen with such assurance was a marvel to behold.

Soon I was sipping my tea and wondering how I would broach the subject that I had come about. Maisie kept giving me meaningful glances and on one occasion, she prodded me on the arm. I could tell that she was sick with worry.

‘Ma…Jamie, I think Sandy needs to go to the toilet.’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Go to the toilet…outside, you know?’

‘Out…oh, aye she does want te go, she’s crossing her wee legs. I’ll chust go outside with her then; I wont be long. Sandy walkies!’

At that magic word, Sandy was up on her feet and she raced out of the room as fast as a thoroughbred greyhound with Maisie following in her wake. I had a feeling that Maisie was glad to be out of it.

It was quiet for a moment after they left.

‘So, Chloe, to what do I owe this visit?’

‘Jamie asked if I would speak to you.’

‘On what matter?’

I took a deep breath.

‘This is none of my business and I would in no way tell you how to raise your child. Jamie is lovely and I think is very unhappy at the moment.’

‘Why is that. I have no notion of him being very unhappy.’

This was difficult and I wanted to choose my words carefully.

‘You know about me, I suppose?’

‘That you are the particular friend of Alistair, you mean?’

‘Word gets around very quickly on Muckle.’

‘Indeed it does.’

‘You are aware of my being born a boy?’

There was no expression on his face except perhaps a slight tightening around his lips.

‘You are transgendered and believe that you are a woman.’

‘I don’t believe, I am a woman.’

‘You canna have babies.’

‘Nor can many women.’

He paused for a moment and then continued.

‘True, but what has all this to do with me Chloe McKerrell?’

‘Jamie says that he has spoken to you twice about the fact that he is a girl.’

‘If Jamie is a girl, why are you saying he instead of she?’

‘Out of politeness to you. To me Jamie is Maisie and I always say she and her.’

‘A boy cannot be a girl.’

‘Do I sound like a girl?

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘I trained my voice so that it would sound feminine although I have always been softly spoken and that helped. Can I come closer to you?’

‘If you wish.’

I got up and walked over and then knelt before him.

‘Please feel my face.’

He shook his head.

‘It would not be polite and…’

‘Please for your child’s sake.’

With slightly shaking hands he touched my face, nose eyelids, hair and neck.

‘What do you feel, a man’s face or a woman’s face?’

‘A…a woman.’

I didn’t get him to touch my breasts as that was a bridge too far and anyway, we had only just met.

I stood up and then went over to my chair and sat down again.

‘To look like this, I had to have treatment. Laser hair removal is painful and not cheap. In addition to this I have had other treatment that I won’t go into but once again, painful and not cheap. Maisie–sorry I have to call her that– because she is a girl, needs to be seen by experts who will tell you and her that this isn’t just fantasy or wish fulfilment, but that she genuinely believes that she is a girl inside a boys body.’

I could see the pain on his face.

‘I…I have lost my wife, I do not want to lose my son too.’

Once again I got up and went over to him. Kneeling down I put my hands over his.

‘Is this what its all about?’

He nodded.

What could I say; I wasn’t an expert on anything except being me. Everyone’s experience is different. I could only try to put myself in his shoes and try to think how I would react.

‘Peter; Maisie has, for as long as she can recall, always been a girl deep inside. You haven’t lost a son, as there never was a son. You have a daughter, who has pretended to be Jamie just for you, but she hasn’t changed, she is how she has always been, a child that loves you. If your wife had given birth to a child that was physically a girl, would you have loved the child any less?’

‘No,’ he whispered.

‘Maisie hasn’t instantly changed into someone different. She is the same person, with the same temperament, upbringing and the same love that she has for you. She is deeply unhappy at pretending that she is a boy and now wants help. Will you give her that help?’

He said nothing for some time. I could see on his face that there was an inner turmoil and that he was struggling to come to terms with what I had said. I continued to kneel there with my hands over his and I could feel him trembling.

I had said enough. It was now up to him to decide.

Just then Sandy walked in and I stood up. Close behind was Maisie who, if anything looked more worried.

‘Sandy, SIT!’

Sandy did as her master ordered and sat down immediately; looking every inch the perfect guide dog she obviously was when on duty.

I felt a little sweaty hand in mine and I looked down. Maisie was trembling and I gave her a cuddle.

Peter stroked Sandy’s head, absent-mindedly for a few moments and the he nodded and the faced us.

‘So, its Maisie is it?’

‘Oh Da!’

She let go of me and then rushed over to her father and buried her head in his chest. They were both crying.

With a lump in the throat, I walked outside and stood in the garden. This was a moment of privacy that needed no audience.

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To Be Continued...

Sorry about the continued delays in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more, larger chapters in the future.

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