Heir to a title Chapter 25

“Crickey! Your head looks like a scrap metal yard!” Michael observed when Callie returned to school. “How long will those be in your face?”

“Abouh- shix weeks.” Callie replied then held up a notice. -' The less I talk and try to move my jaw, the quicker I heal.' -

“So I suppose laughing's out as well?” Michael grinned.

Callie gave him an 'old' look and stuck two fingers up at him. Michael grinned again then eventually turned to a more serious note.

“Obviously I'll help you out. You were lucky.”

Callie nodded slightly and slowly, it hurt to make violent head and neck movements. Then she cautiously put both hands together and made a sleeping sign to indicate she was tired. The journey from Yorkshire to Eton had not been and easy one.

“Will you need help undressing.” Michael asked wondering if his friend might be offended and think it was some sort of salacious endeavour.

Callie looked him directly in the eye as she tried to gauge her friends intent.

“Ah ooww theriouth, - ooww know,- nothing thecual.”

Michael frowned.

“You more than anybody should know I'm gay, I don't like women.”

“Yea bu' ooww know, I'm thtill a bwoy down there.”

“Trust me Callie. When I say I'm your friend, I mean it.”

Callie gave him a beseeching look of uncertainty then nodded and tapped at the shoulder strap of her top with her good hand. Michael recognised her request and carefully eased the strap over her head and shoulder, then he peeled the rest of the top up over Callie's body to reveal her nicely formed breasts and pretty lace bra. Next came the more intimate activity as Michael unfastened Callie's bra and gently lifted the shoulder straps clear. Callie inevitably tried to cover her breasts with her arms but the injured left shoulder made a poor job of it. To emphasise his lack of intent, Michael took the loose long tee-shirt from the drawer and closed his eyes as he proffered it to Callie who painfully inveigled her good arm into the right sleeve before having to accept help with her left arm. Eventually the top tumbled down to Callie's thighs and only then did she feel confident to remove her leggings and knickers. She wriggled free of them but found it tricky to balance on one leg whilst she put her sleep pants on. Michel quickly caught on and stretched out a supporting hand to hold Callie's injured side. She winced slightly but was grateful for the help and thanked him. Eventually she flopped onto her bed and smiled.

“Thankth ooww.”

“I'll go and get you some hot chocolate.”
“Thankth ooww.”

Like all the previous nights since the incident, Callie slept fitfully but with each night the discomfort got marginally less. By the middle of the summer term she eventually achieved a reasonable night's sleep. Finally the day arrived when the first pins were taken out of her cheek-bone and collar bone, though her jaw bone, being more mobile, needed another couple of weeks.. It was the summer holidays before Callie was fully fit and ready again.

The train journey home gave her a double pleasure for Maggie had arranged to meet with Michael and Callie at Paddington Station. Michael and Callie waited eagerly for the Cheltenham train to arrive then the three shared a taxi across London to Kings Cross Station because they had too much luggage to take the tube. Finally they settled down to a couple of hours peaceful chat as the train raced north to York. Several phone-calls where made by each of them and eventually they organised a three week period when the three could meet and stay together at Denton Hall in Yorkshire.

To Callie's delight her maternal great Aunt Beverly had arranged to stay because she had some important business deals to sort out with the Germans. An extra ship was being discussed because the Hull Hamburg trade had expanded faster than expected. It was a matter of buy in a ship or charter one. As they costed the exercise, Great Aunt Beverly was busy having discussions for three weeks. Her German manager had found a ship and he had located several sources of finance enough to buy a ship. The discussions centred on Great Auntie Beverly going shares on the ship or letting her German manager demonstrate a greater loyalty to the venture by risking all his own resources.

In ordinary circumstances Beverly would have eagerly bought all the shares in the ship whether chartered or purchased but her German manager was keen to become a director on the board. He and Beverly had found working together to be a joyous experience and he wished to become a director. The visit to Hull was centred around these negotiations. Inevitably Molly (Callie's Paternal grandmother,) inveigled Beverly to bring along her wife Angela and their assorted brood of children

Consequently, for a fortnight in August Denton Hall rang to laughter. It also gave Callie a excellent opportunity to learn more about the maternal side of her family. She also learned for the first time about her great aunt's childhood.

For a week, Callie had indulged herself and invited as many of her friends and relations as she could. With all her relatives present from both sides they had enough people to organise a 'twenty-twenty' cricket match on the field behind the house one sunny afternoon. As the afternoon heated up, Callie found herself lazing in a garden chair while her side where just starting their innings. She was hot after finishing her bowling stint and, because she was middle order batting she anticipated a chance to grab a seat. She was savouring a cold glass of sweetened lemon juice when a soft voice interrupted Callie's idle thoughts.

“Afternoon darling. You bowled well so I presume the arm's fully healed.”

Callie immediately recognised her great aunt and offered her seat.

“Hello Auntie Bev,” she replied as she stood up to hug her and meet her great Aunt's guest. “Yes it's fine,” she swung it over her shoulder to demonstrate.

“This is Hans, he's my manager from the German end of the business. _ Hans, meet my great niece the future Duke of Denton.”

Callie's eyes scanned Hans's features and concluded that if she had been into men, he would have been a delicious prospect. Instead she extended her hand and he shook it warmly. Then one of her older cousins saw Hans and soon moved in on him and invite him into Denton Hall for the 'grand tour'. This left Callie alone with her great Aunt.

“So my little niece. How's life amongst the nobility suiting you?”

Callie grinned before answering with one word.

“Hectic.”

“Yes, I had heard; but I presume things have settled down now.”

“At last,” Callie confirmed. “So, great auntie of mine; what have you been up to?”

“Oh tying up a lot of loose ends, my adopted daughters, Jennie and Bea don't seem too interested in running the company, just enjoying the dividends. Consequently, my niece Ellie is taking over at the helm. She'll be managing director and I'll just attend board meetings. It gives me more time for stuff like this – family gatherings.”

Callie dragged two chairs to a shadier spot and the pair set to chatting about family. Since becoming the heir to the title Callie had inevitably become more interested in family history. She was shocked and distressed to finally learn of her great aunt's childhood. Through tearful eyes she concluded.

“I don't think I will ever trust social workers again.”

Aunt Beverly smiled softly and shrugged.

“They weren't social workers Callie, they were prison wardens, doctors, psychiatrists and lawyers. Social workers were very small beer way back in those days. Many local authorities could hardly claim to even have had a social services department to speak of. Anyway, it's water under the bridge now. I'm happy with my life and I've got a full blood daughter by Angela. Megan's half sister to Jennie and Bea, so my life's fulfilled.”

“Will she take over the shipping line from my mum when she's older?”

“Who can say Callie. So far she's shown little interest. Only your mum Ellie seems to have the acumen for it. It must be her mathematical mind.”

Callie nodded thoughtfully then went to the catering tent and brought two large fresh fruit drinks. When she returned, Auntie Beverly was dozing. She stood momentarily holding the drinks and wondering whether to wake her but her dilemma was solved when her mother Ellie appeared glowing from her exertions at the cricket crease. She spoke softly in Callie's ear.

“Don't wake her, she often has a little nap at this time. Don't forget,. She's seventy now. D'you want me to have that, if she wakes up I'll get another one.”

Callie handed the drink and Ellie spotted the glint of a tear in Callie's eye.

“What's wrong darling?”
“Auntie Bev has just told me about her childhood and how she got started in shipping.”

Ellie wasn't certain what to say so she probed gently.

“Was she upset when she was telling you?”

“I couldn't tell. She seemed more resigned to it than anything else. She should be proud of what she's achieved, broadcast it to the world.”

“I think she's just glad she can talk about it now. For many years she kept it bottled up it's only since she met your grandfather Bill that she's moved forward on it. Did she say how they met?”

“No.”

“Well that's another chapter again. D' you want to hear it or have you heard enough already?”

“Enough for one day. She should write a book. It must have been horrible back in those days.”

“It was but a lot depended on parental attitudes.”

“You mean Great Grandma Charlotte?”

“The very same. Don't you remember the row we had in the cottage in Dorset?”

“I vaguely remembered the shouting and you telling Nana Charlotte off. I never really understood what it was all about. I was too young to really grasp the whole story of course and Nana Charlotte never told me. Now I understand the whole thing, the abuse, the hurt, everything.”

As she thought again about the whole story, Callie's eyes started to glisten with sorrow.

Ellie nodded though she remained silent but Callie's sadness was turning to anger.

“I'd love to tell her what I thought of her – the bitch! How could she do that to a six-year-old child?”

“Don't worry darling, lot's of people have condemned her for that.”

“She should have been locked up.”

“Well I don't think that would work. Nana Charlotte is one hundred and four now. Prison would kill her. The train journey was arduous enough, that's why Grandpa Bill came across country via Birmingham to avoid the trek with Taxis and luggage across London.”

“And to think, I kissed her only this morning when she was helped off the train by Grandpa Bill. Is that why she's staying at the hotel?”

“Yes, we thought it best to keep her and Auntie Bev apart. They are still not reconciled and I don't suppose they ever will be.”

“I still say she was a bitch!”

“That's as maybe darling but all I ask is that you don't go shouting at her now. She's shown enough remorse and you may not have noticed but Auntie Bev never speaks to her. That's punishment enough for any mother especially when she's realised she was in the wrong.”

“Well to be honest, I hadn't noticed. I mean the house is so big and I've not had a chance to speak to everybody what with the cricket and all. Anyway, I love my auntie Bev so I'm siding with her. I'll not speak to Nana Charlotte either.”

“She's your guest Callie. That would be very rude after inviting her to stay for a week. Besides, she is your great grandmother, you can hardly ignore her. As I said and I'm sure Auntie Bev has also told you, things were very different back in those days.”

“Yeah, I suppose I owe Auntie Bev a lot. She must have fought some tough battles.”

“She did Callie, but they were not famous, publicised battles. More like little skirmishes, here and there, mostly with doctors or lawyers or judges. She steered clear of the media through her middle years because she was hiding as a captain in the merchant navy. Nothing of the April Ashleys or Christine Jorgensens in Beverly's existence.”

“So she was really a coward.”

“Was she Callie? There were many who tried to confront the media and be open about their transgenderism. All too often the efforts blew up in their faces because of the salacious attitudes of the press and the bigotry associated with editorial sexism. Too many of Auntie Bev's contemporaries ended up dead; whether by suicide or homicide, it mattered not to the victims. Others were forced to go underground or 'stealth' as they say just to hold down some menial job.

For Auntie Bev I suppose it was all about raw survival especially after the battles of her childhood. She'd fought and survived enough battles as a 'lab-rat' in her earliest years. The battles that others fought in their twenties, thirties or even their forties, were adversities that Auntie Bev met with and seemingly defeated - or at least survived in her adolescence and early teens. What's more she did it alone so who are we to call her a coward after she lived through all that. Did she tell you everything?”

“How would I know?” Callie replied apologetically.

“Very true Callie, she might have told you everything but alternatively, she might also have decided to save your sensibilities. I'm not sure if I know all the story but what I did learn was enough to make me sick and resolve never to ask her again. It must hurt her even yet. Coward she might be Callie though I would contest that belief. Whatever people might think or say about her darling you can believe one thing about Auntie Bev! She's a survivor.”

With that, a roar went up as the ball scuttled towards the boundary at Callie's feet. Callie instantly recognised the approaching 'four' that would confirm the narrowest of victories for it was the penultimate ball of the last over. They had made it with one ball to spare and a victory of two runs.
The roar woke Auntie Beverly and she looked around slightly disorientated for a moment. Callie stepped over to her chair.

“Are you alright Auntie?”

“Uuhm, yes. I wondered where I was for a moment.”

“Lost in your dreams were you?”

“Sort of darling.”

“What were you dreaming of?”

Auntie Beverly frowned uncertainly but said nothing.

Even as Callie had asked the question she felt Ellie gently tug her cricket shirt and speak softly.

“Auntie Bev doesn't remember her dreams, even immediately after waking up. We think it's some sort of survival blocking thing.”

Callie asked innocently.

“Is that true Auntie?”

Ellie scolded her daughter mildly.

“Don't embarrass her Cal'.”

Beverly smiled.

“It's alright Ellie, I'm not made of glass.” Then she answered Callie's question. “Yes darling it's true, for some reason I don't seem to remember my dreams; your mum may be right but to be honest, I don't really know why and I long ago gave up worrying about it.”

“Did you ever speak to a therapist?”

“Callie!!” Ellie almost croaked in her endeavours to convey her disapproval without drawing attention.

Beverly shrugged and pacified her niece.

“It's okay Ellie, let the child speak, one day she'll have to meet them – therapists that is -.”

She then turned to Callie.

“Frankly darling I avoid therapists and psychiatrists. Too much water over the dam to explain here and now.

Callie nodded silently. She felt a little chastened to have been inadvertently invasive but she really wanted to know. She resolved to speak again when they had a more private moment. After all, the issues that her great Aunt had either confronted or dodged in her long life, might one day confront her, even though the current climate was infinitely better.

She found herself having new respect for Auntie Bev for it seemed her beloved relative had learned to pick both the times and places to fight her battles; just like Napoleon - and Callie considered him to be, without doubt, one of the finest generals to have ever lived.

As the extended family and friends gathered for cakes and tea after the game, Callie bumped into her great-grand-mother Charlotte and her grandfather William who was helping the elderly matriarch into the large sofa in the library. Remembering her mother Ellie's words, she forced herself to join the pair and make polite conversation. The main gist of the meeting seemed to revolve around Charlotte's sycophantic concentration of her great-grand-child's seeming wealth and status as soon-to-be duke. Callie was secretly relieved when her gay school-friend Michael spotted Callie's dilemma and rescued her with a request to go to the stables with a view to going riding the following morning.

Throughout the rest of the family gathering, Callie only spoke to her great-grand-mother a couple of times and then only to exchange the briefest of comments. Callie presumed she was free and clear of any bigoted influences that her great-grand-mother might try to have over her life. This was not to be.

~~oo000oo~~