My stepfather or shall I say bigamous stepfather and murderer of my mother looked smug as he stood in the dock.

Working Girl ~ Life Goes On!

By Susan Brown

Chapter 1

I sat at the back of the court watching those funny men and women in strange wigs pontificating and posturing in front of the jury.

My stepfather or shall I say bigamous stepfather and murderer of my mother looked smug as he stood in the dock.

He was older than I remember, grey hair now flecked the once jet black hair. Perhaps he used Grecian 2000 before? Anyway, the barristers were finishing their summing up and it was all over bar the shouting.

I paid little attention to what they were saying, being more interested in the reaction to all this on my ex step daddy.

He had this sort of smirk on his face, as if he knew that he was going to be found not guilty. He kept looking up at me; that cruel smile playing on his thin lips. I stared at him, hoping that his eyes would fall in guilt of the terrible crimes that he had committed, but no, once an arse hole always an arse hole.

The barristers stopped their bleating and the old fart of a judge said more than a few words to the jury and then they filed out and Sheila and I left the building for a well-deserved lunchypoo at the sandwich shop around the corner from the court.

As we sat and munched on our salad sandwiches, mayo oozing out of the sides, I was a bit quiet. Sheila’s noticed this.

‘Penny for them?’

‘Oh just thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘My life and how things have gone.’

‘Blimey, that’s a bit heavy.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. A lot’s happened over the past year.’

‘You tell me.’

‘You already know.’

‘It was a figure of speech.’

‘Mmm.’

I took a sip of my capo...more froth than drink and I was off in la-la land again.

After the scum ball Roger was sent down for various misdemeanours and sent to Pentonville Prison to break rocks, sow mailbags bend over for hunky prisoners — you know stuff like that, my life got a bit better.

My uncle helped a lot by letting me loose on the HR or Human Resources. Pippa was great and helped me in her scatter-brained way to get over the traumatic things that had happened to me and I thrived in helping the staff with their problems. Everyone said I had a good ear, not sure which one, but you get the picture.

I really enjoyed being a girl and I suppose I went a bit overboard with Laura Ashley clothes and mega girlieness. My heals got so high that I was up in the clouds and Sheila spent most of the time trying to tame my feminine beast. Not being into half measures, I was wearing enough makeup to hold up the Tyne Bridge and to be honest I didn’t care. I copied Phillipa and the other girls and started wearing sunglasses perched on top of my head, even going to bed in them. I started wearing ultra short skirts. They got so short that you could clearly see my silky panties. Anyway, not stopping there, my tops got somewhat briefer as well; exposing my belly button was now the norm and I was fast becoming a health and safety hazard to any brickie working on a building site — you know, strained necks and other things.

Anyway, I suppose inevitably reaction set in and one day I woke up in my see through girlie pink baby doll and looking down at myself, Percy had decided to wake up and have a stiffie. I threw a bit of a wobbly. I saw myself as someone just playing with the idea of being a girl. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and totally lost it. I just saw a boy dressed up as a girl and I suddenly hated me and all I stood for.

I ripped my clothes off and dragged out my dust covered boy stuff from the back of the wardrobe. In no time, I was all sort of grungy, wearing scratchy jeans and black tee shirts. I got some gel stuff and slicked back my long hair. I wasn’t any happier but I thought that was doing the right thing by being a boy again.

In a fit of angst, I ran into the garden and threw all my girls clothes in a pile, including my lacy bras and set light to them. Watching the flames roar as the flame retardant clothes went up in smoke made me feel liberated; I didn’t need to look like a girl any more and that’s how I wanted it. I didn’t need to take several hours to get dressed and made up. I could get ready in five minutes flat and not bother to shave and wash if I didn’t want to. In short, I could be a perhaps smelly but manly man again.

All this sort of made Sheila a bit unhappy with me, as the deal was that I could stay with her as long as I was a girl. I was now presenting as a boy and Sheila told me to change back to the real girl I was or get lost.

I got lost and moved back to my parent’s house, which, if you have been paying attention and not falling asleep, was now mine.

Well, to cut a long story very short, I soon realised that I could not change the past. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw Toni and not Tony. They say clothes maketh the man, but in my case it didn’t make me one.

It took three days of soul searching, not to mention several bottles of Chá¢teau Crap before I finally rang Sheila and asked her to rescue me.

‘About bloody time,’ was all she said as she swept into my house and gave me a cuddle fierce enough to raise the dead.

It was decided that as she was so totally peed off with her landlord, the odious Davis, she should move in with me and to that end we were as happy as pigs in the proverbial manure.

I started wearing girls’ clothes again and felt happier than I had in ages.

I abandoned the Laura Ashley and tarty look and started wearing stuff that was somewhat less flowery and more teenage like. I also toned down the make-up by several inches and I think that I looked the better for it.

All in all I was now fairly happy. Only the oncoming trial of Step Daddy From Hell had marred my happiness and now the trial was over and all we needed to hear was the verdict, but why was my heart all aflutter and how come I was all depressed?

‘So what’s the prob kid?’

I looked at Sheila. I wished that I were so self-assured as she was. One look from her, quietened down the most inebriated drunk in casualty.

‘It’s just…’

‘What.’

‘What if he gets off?’

‘He won’t.’

‘He might.’

‘No he won’t. Look it’s open and shut. He is more guilty than Judas,’

‘Who?’

‘Look in the bible.’

‘Right…’

‘Anyway, to change the subject subtly, fancy going to the flics tonight?’

‘What’s on?’

‘Don’t know, we can go to the multiplex, there’s bound to be something we like.’

‘I don’t know if I can think about tonight. What will I do if he gets off?’

‘Well, I can think of twenty things we can do on him with a knitting needle.’

‘Violence doesn’t answer everything.’

‘I know,’ she sighed, ‘it’s the beast in me, I try to be nice but it’s just not in my nature when you are dealing with testosterone filled men who think that they are God’s gift to women.’

‘You are supposed to be a nurse; you know Florence Nightingale and stuff.’

‘So, the point is?’

‘Aren’t you supposed to save life, not kick the living whatsit out of it?’

‘Not pond life.’

‘What have you got against goldfish?’

‘Who said anything about goldfish, I was thinking more of slugs.’

‘I don’t know if slugs live in ponds.’

‘I don’t either but the are wet and slimy and that just about sums up your ex step dad.’

I sighed again and munched my sandwich. Nothing was going to cheer me up until this ordeal was over.

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that the jury came back into court. I looked at them as they filed in. I had read somewhere that if the jury didn’t look at the accused, then he or she was guilty. About half did and half didn’t; what the hell did that mean?

We all stood up as the judge came in.

After he sat down and we did the same, the usher stood up and turned to the jury.

‘Defendant and leader of the jury, please rise.’

The head jury person and slime ball stood up.

The usher coughed and then spoke.

‘Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict you are all agreed upon?’

‘Yes.’

‘Regarding the murder of Elizabeth Roberts nee Summers, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?’

‘Guilty.’

There was a gasp around the court and the judge had to call for silence.

‘Is this verdict upon which you are all agreed?’

‘Yes.’

I looked at the man who had killed my mother and saw that he had collapsed in tears. His veneer of superiority had left him. He looked ten years older and not a little but pathetic. Was I sorry for him? No.

After things had settled down again, he was made to stand.

‘David Roberts, you have been found guilty of the most heinous crime of murder. You show few signs of remorse and judging by the fact that you have not assisted the police in any way or pleaded guilty to the charge, I have little sympathy for you. Sentencing will take place after I have received various reports. You will appear before me in one week’s time. I have to warn you, subject to these reports that I propose a very lengthy sentence for this terrible crime. Also, there are other charges to be satisfied at another date, which need to be answered. Further, police in Australia and New Zealand have requested that you be extradited to answers charges in those countries. Now take him down.’

As he was led from the dock, he looked at me. The look of hate made me recoil in horror, and then he was gone, shouting his innocence as he was taken to the cells below the dock.

As Sheila and I walked out into the bright sunshine, I felt a weight leave me. I was free of him now and I could get on with the rest of my life.

‘I say…Miss!’

We turned around and there was our friendly policemen.

‘Hello boys,’ said Sheila.

‘He’s got his comeuppance then.’

‘We knew that the scumbag was going to cop it. He’s going to be in the slammer for a long stretch.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Enough said. Need any help, just call the local nick Bye.’

Then they were off. Will I see them again? Probably, knowing the scrapes that I get into.

A few minutes later, we were sitting down having yet another capo and deciding what to do next.

‘You know something Sheila?’

‘What.’

I am due some holidays and I know that you haven’t had one for yonks. Shall we have a holiday?’

‘Where, I can’t afford much on my meagre wage.’

‘Oh it’s on me. I’m well off now and I just want to get away from things.’

‘Well if you are sure. I like the idea of not paying and I never look a gift horse in the mouth.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not, what?’

‘Why don’t you look a gift horse in the mouth?’

‘Erm…bad breath? Any way where do you want to go and what do you want to do, find a beach somewhere and cook our bodies; go skiing, what?’

‘Don’t laugh but I fancy a cruise.’

‘All those old wrinklies!’

‘I saw a program the other day. Cruises have changed. It’s quite the fashion now; young people go and there are lots of things to do. Some of the larger ships are almost like mini cities. Tons of discos and bars, dancing till you drop, food you can die for, plenty of free drinks, that sort of thing and exotic locations…it will be great!’

‘Any men?’

‘I suppose so, more than you can handle.’

‘I’m still off men, but I suppose it’s curable - you’re on, where’s my sailors hat?’

To be continued...

Please leave a comment...thanks