The Weekly Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3320 by Angharad Copyright© 2021 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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A Happy New Year to both my readers.
It had been a busy week and Christmas was fast approaching. I managed, with Diane's persistence to get staff health to see Nikki and to liaise with her GP. He was going to arrange for her to see a specialist physio or occupational therapist, they would then do an assessment of her needs and refer back to some sort of consultant, possibly a neurologist, who could then organise treatment.

I'd also done some reading up on the subject and discovered that it was very variable in its presentation and symptoms suffered. Nikki was, unfortunately, a bit slow in terms of cognition at times but it was difficult for me, a rank amateur to decide if that was because she had a learning difficulty or her motor coordination caused her to have to consciously think about almost everything she did. We do so much automatically because it's been practised thousands of times, walking, bending down to pick things up, writing or typing and this is because repetition has set up nerve pathways that function without any conscious thought. Having set up the pathways, even after quite a time gap, the skills can be reused after a few reminders. Something like riding a bike, if you do it every day it's done with almost no thought because it's all automatic. We sometimes don't even look at the bike before we get on it, which caused a few problems to a friend who got on their bike without realising someone had pinched the saddle. Thankfully, they didn't do themselves much injury but it wasn't a prank, someone had pinched his rather expensive saddle.

If you haven't ridden for a while, you temporarily lose the muscle memory, which is actually the nerve pathway, but after a small number of rides, you recover the skills and feel much more confident on a bike again. Unfortunately, it can take a bit longer to stop your bum hurting and your legs aching but serves you right, you should cycle regularly.

In the case of Nikki, I doubt she'd be able to ride a bike without specialist help and given the carnage on the roads these days, I wouldn't even consider suggesting it to her, though possibly a trike might help her coordination but I don't honestly know, but at least we'd started the process for her and I hoped we'd be able to help achieve some degree of independence, she really is a lovely girl. Occasionally, I find it difficult to love her, after she broke my dormouse conference mug, I got half a dozen cheap ones from the carboot sale, so it no longer matters. Diane has brought in some old ones from her house and I did consider doing the same with our old ones except they end up in Tom's shed and he uses them for mixing small amounts of things for his gardening. I don't ask.

"Auntie Cathy, could I start work for you tomorrow?"

"I suppose so, but is it worth it, Christmas is here next weekend and you'll want to spend it with your family."

"I'd prefer to work if I could."

"Just a second," I picked up my study diary. "Right, it's the seventeenth today, Christmas and New Year's Day are on Saturdays. What time is Peter coming to collect you?"

"Uh, he's not he's out with his office Christmas dinner, I'll get the bus."

"We'll see. Now, please tell me why you'd rather be here over Christmas than with your family and will your mother object? I'm sure she'd like her daughter home for the holiday."

Sarah began to blush, "Actually, she won't, she is still having difficulty with me as a girl. You and the rest of your family don't and I hope I could start my placement and include Christmas as part of it, but if you don't want me to, I'll see if I can stay at Peter's."

"That bad is it?" I asked her hoping she wasn't trying it on. I like the girl and I'm trying to help her but she isn't my problem - yet. Oh shit, why does life do this to me? Why always me? Someone should have sorted Nikki out years ago, why did it fall to me? I suppose like Nigel Green says in Zulu to one of his young troopers who is frightened of the impending Zulu attack and asks, Why us? 'Cos we're 'ere, lad.' I suppose I was here too and I can't let things go, no wonder I'm always in trouble. I've been like it all my life, interfering, my dad used to call it. But I can't walk by on the other side, it's probably called 'Good Samaritan syndrome' or something similar.

"Yeah, but I'll ask Peter if I can stay there, so it's all right if you don't want me."

"Give me your mother's phone number," she wrote it down on the pad on my desk. "Now go and see if David needs any help." She nodded and went off to the kitchen.

"Is that Mrs Spears?" I said hoping her first name was not Britney.

"Yes, who's that?"

"I'm Cathy Cameron, your brother Peter asked me about giving a placement to Sarah for her course."

"Oh yeah, he said he had someone who could help, why is there a problem, apart from her being you know?"

"No I don't know, Mrs Spears."

"Oh I thought she had to tell you she's really a boy." I felt a mixture of emotions including shock, this was like a female version of my dad or Murray. I wanted to hit her, to rip her apart verbally, but then she might take it out on Sarah.

"Well no one is perfect, now I wish to employ her from tomorrow and I'm going to need her over Christmas and possibly New Year as well. I hope that is okay?"

"What will she be doing?"

"I have oodles of children so she'll be helping me look after them and a bit of housework. "

"She's happy with that is she?"

"Oh yes, very happy."

"Okay, I suppose so."

"Thank you. Goodbye." I rang off.

I wandered out to the kitchen where Sarah was helping David make a salad and they were chatting away as if they were old friends. I think she would fit in very well. Just then the doorbell rang and Livvie let Debbie in. "Ooh, that smells good, Cathy," she said taking off her coat.

"Salmon with David's own recipe watercress sauce," I replied, "It's amazing."

"Take me to your feeder," she said and we both walked towards the kitchen.

"Debbie, this is Sarah, Sarah, this is Debbie. If you hadn't worked it out, Sarah is your student, and Sarah, Debbie is your tutor."

"Oh," they both said almost in unison.

For the rest of the evening they got on fine, Debbie brought some sewing that she wanted to do and so we talked as we sewed. I had more mending to do - how do these girls manage to destroy school uniforms with such monotonous regularity. Not Danielle or Trish playing footie in the yard but Hannah and Livvie. Livvie, I mean little Miss Perfect was caught fighting in the girl's toilet, obviously with another girl. It transpired that the other girl had suggested that Danielle was a boy because no girl could be that good at soccer, but lots of boys were.

When Livvie called her a liar, the girl slapped her causing her to slip backwards and she caught her blazer on a tap and tore the seam. When the girl went to hit her again, she turned and back kicked her in the face. The squeals from both girls as they fought caused a teacher to investigate and she found the two screeching at each other like two owls.

The offending girl was sent off to hospital with a suspected broken jaw and Livvie was suspended. They sent for me and I collected her from school after being told what had apparently happened. Then I got Livvie's version and when Trish came home, David went to get them, she said the other girl had been overheard saying she was going to wipe the smile off Danielle Cameron's face and her ugly sisters. On further investigation, we discovered her brother's girlfriend had been dropped from the county team because Trish was a better player and it was well known that she was coached by Danielle, an English international.

"So why didn't she attack Danielle or Trish?" asked Sarah, who was looking at patterns.

"She was going to, but Danielle is two or more years older and probably too intimidating, and Trish is known to have had a fight and won it against an older girl, and Hannah was considered too tough to even contemplate fighting, so Livvie, who also plays football was next best and an opportunity arose before she had planned it through. I'd have thought that Livvie would have verbally destroyed her but when faced with physical injury, she replied in like fashion with interest.

"The girl denied it for a day or so but when Trish managed to get further evidence, like the name of the girl who'd lost her place to Trish, who was from another school, and she was confronted, she owned up despite her jaw being wired. Apparently, Trish Hannah and Livvie have been practising kick-boxing in the garage having watched either Stella or me working out - or reducing our frustrations."

"So what happened?" asked Debbie.

"Livvie was reinstated and told on no account must she kick anyone like that again."

"She was lucky," said Debbie.

"She actually told Trish she'd do a different kick next time. They both thought that was hilarious."

"She's a girl, isn't she?" chuckled Debbie.

"In the end, we explained to the girl's parents that we'd had several attempts on our children's lives and therefore we condoned then learning some form of self-defence and we considered the girl was lucky because Livvie would have punched her in the face and possibly broken her nose. The jaw was probably going to look better after the surgeon sorted it, a broken nose might not have and with her looks she needed all the help she can get."

That set Debbie off again and she cackled like an old witch. Of course, Sarah had to tell Debbie that she was transitioning and Debbie looked at me before telling her not to be so forthcoming with personal information as she had no need to know to teach her, even on a one to one basis.

"But I thought you should know, I mean if you'd realised I was actually a boy being alone with me, I mean..."

"Sarah, you are not a boy, okay. Even if you were, I've tutored young men twice your size and they were more frightened of me because I was in the position of power, being the teacher and being older."

"Oh, okay, just thought..." Sarah blushed deeply.

"Look, girl," said Debbie, "it's fine if you want to be out and up front with everyone, but why should you be? You look and act like a girl, okay you have a few rough edges to knock off but otherwise, you look as much a girl as anyone else."

"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, if you believe yourself to be a girl, why shouldn't everyone else accept it?" I offered suddenly realising that the same could be said of people who weren't classic transsexuals like the three of us, I obviously had some thinking to do.

The other girls had allowed us some privacy so Debbie and Sarah could meet and chat. They both said they were looking forward to working together. I suggested as Sarah would be working here, they could use my study and that they had access to my books and journals if they needed them. Debbie could bring her own laptop and use our wifi and even access the university if necessary.

While Debbi went off to the loo, I suggested Sarah came with us when I took Debbie home and she could either stay at Peter's house or bring some stuff back with her and move into the room I'd allocated her, across the landing from Danni's. It was Julie's old room but I knew now she'd not come home to live again and that was okay. We still had contact, I was still her mum and she my daughter, but like Sammi they were growing up and fleeing the nest - as it should be.

"You mean I can stay tonight? Oh wow, thank you, Auntie Cathy." She was wrapped around me when Debbie returned.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked.

"Yes, I mean no. Auntie Cathy has said I can move in tonight, we're going to get my stuff when she takes you home."

"Right, thanks for helping me sort out my little catastrophe," said Debbie. She'd made an error taking up a pair of trousers which I was able to correct quite easily and she hemmed them before she left, all she had to do now was press them and she said she'd do that at home. "I suppose I'd better get back and see what the cat has done."

"Oh you have a cat?" said Sarah.

"Yeah, she's a monster, I had to pick up a vole when I got home yesterday, half of it was in the hall the rest in my bedroom."

"Ugh," said Sarah.

"Where's your psycho?" Debbie asked me and as if in answer to her question the feline tornado shot past us and up the stairs as if she had the devil after her. It wasn't the case, just a dumb spaniel from whom she'd pinched a chew stick thingy made of rawhide. Apparently, Tom was giving one to Kiki when the monster moggie flashed through taking it from his hand and before the dopy dog even saw it. He just laughed, it was probably too tough for her teeth but he had another one he gave the dog who ended up happy.

We took Debbi home and then off to Peter's house, quite a nice one in Southsea where Sarah rushed in packed an overnight bag and telling Peter's wife what was happening. I spoke with her as well, a nice woman called Anne. I thought if I showed myself it would be official not Sarah shooting off to sleep with her boyfriend or girlfriend. That made me wonder if putting her opposite Danielle was such a good idea. Oh well, I'd done it now. Danielle knows how to behave and I'm sure Sarah does too, she has a lot to lose if she upsets me and she may be young but she's not stupid and she's older than Danni in any case. Oh dear, was that another worry?

No, I decided, she's a nice girl and trustworthy and besides with her coursework to finish for the nursery nurse course, and her actual duties plus her biology revision, she wouldn't have either the time or the energy - I'd make sure of that.