Book 2, Chapter 27

Evening surgery with Dr Carter brought to mind the saying 'It takes a village to raise a child.' - a sweet idea until the village wants the help of someone who doesn't want to be part of any village. Today I was Beth's village representative and luckily Dr Carter, unlike Dr 'Frank the scientist' up in London, had the human touch. I hoped I could rely on Dr Carter not to demand that Beth's parents be present or informed because dear aunt Sophie might just explode at the news her daughter was no longer a virgin.

Looking at Beth when she was called I couldn't help but be aware that inside the sophisticated, street-smart image she tried so hard to project was a frightened little girl but all I could do was squeeze her hand reassuringly and hope for the best. NHS doctors are usually pushed for time but it was at least 20 minutes before Beth came out smiling, from which I took reassurance but couldn't stop to talk as my appointment was next.

"Not exactly low profile, are you?" remarked Dr Carter as she checked my blood pressure. "You are not the only gender variant person in Cardiff and it has been a habit I suppose of doctors in the area to suggest, to transgender women patients for example, that they keep a low profile." She looked down my list of base temperature readings.

"Any bleeding or spotting?"

I commented on my friends' reaction to my behaviour but said no periods and definitely no sex yet. Dr Carter looked up sharply at that and said "I never asked you about sex so what made you mention it?"

If the embarrassment is strong, dark skinned people 'blush' just as obviously as any English rose and images of John and Gareth and even Armando flashed up. Not Jean Luc of course, never Jean bloody Luc with his camera catching my every squirm and frailty! I blustered through a non-answer by saying I had only one more appointment with Dr Stanhope and was about to leave when Dr Carter said "Wait a minute" and pulled a folder out of her drawer. "If you would just sign this…"

Bloody internet! I didn't know you could get glossy 8"x10" photos from the newspapers over the internet and I definitely didn't lasso that bollard no matter how it looked in the photgraph!

"My niece is your biggest fan. She wants to be just like you when she grows up and you won't believe how much she'll love having your autograph."

I'd borrowed Dad's car for the doctor's appointment and took advantage of that to take Beth to my favourite café for a chat largely about how she was going to break the news to her mother. I suggested rather naïvely that over breakfast might be a safer choice of timing than midnight if she wanted to avoid spending the night on the streets but whatever she decided I'd back her; I was only a phone call away; and if worse came to worse I would find somewhere for her to stop.

In reality I got a phone call at midnight; had to ok things with Mum and Dad to borrow the car; pick up Beth to stay with us for the night; and finally sat through a painful breakfast next morning when Sophie and Jack joined us before, Beth in tow, they all went home.

"Don't you think we'll be there to pick up the pieces if you come home pregnant!" was the last thing Mum said to me as she left for work.

It takes a village!

The 3 working sails for Dumblebit arrived that day so Bill was called and he and I fitted them.

The mainsail aft of the mast could be reefed from the cockpit by pulling on downhauls and outhauls. It could be reduced in size 3 times" but each reduction created bags of loose sail so there were ties to collect the loose sail tidily and importantly prevent the bags filling with water if the sail caught a wave crashing into it.

The staysail was the smaller foresail and closest to the mast. The foremost edge, called the luff, of the sail was slid into a roller reefing gear which would allow its size to be progressively reduced by rolling it up around the luff. The foot of this sail was parallel with a boom which swivelled from the deck and made the sail keep its shape.

The larger jib in front was also on a roller reefing gear but, without the extra boom along the foot, its shape had to be controlled by positioning pulleys between the outermost corner, or clew, of the sail and the winches in the cockpit - that way the rope, or sheet as it was called, could be arranged to pull from just the right angle.

In theory you order equipment and it fits but the dimensions of something as stretchy as a sail are moot. First Bill and I had to fine tune the placement of the reefing lines for the mainsail then I used my new splicing techniques to make short extensions to the luffs of both the jib and the staysail so the rollers would work without risk of jamming.

By the time we finished it was 7 pm but at least Jack had now fitted a stove into Dumblebit so we could sit with a mug of tea in the cockpit congratulating ourselves on a job well done while I bemoaned the state of my 'totally ruined' fingernails!