Drew Goes South Chapter 7 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)
The previous early night meant that Drew awoke early, he listened to the birdsong for a little while, then lost in his thoughts he reflected on the conversation with Maddy. His tan lines were the latest insult added to the injury he called his body.

He rose from the bed, slipping off the nightdress, he looked at himself in the mirror. The large protrusions on his chest obviously affected the overall picture, he looked like an attractively built girl. He looked more closely at the tan lines, they were going to be a pain, but they would fade in time, the boobs would come off as soon as he got hold of some solvent.

He felt a bit better, then he looked at his narrow waist and comparatively wide hips. It was obviously a consequence of lots of cycling, making his hips overdeveloped, like some tennis players look like fiddler crabs, one arm much bigger than t'other. The exercise made his waist narrow by burning off the calories and it also laid down muscle on his backside.

He took off the knickers he was wearing. He looked at the fleshy protrusion of his bum in the mirror, from all angles. It looked more like Maddy than Rhod. It worried him for a moment, he beat it with his hands, “Pure muscle.” Except muscle doesn't bounce when you hit it.

He stood facing the mirror, hardly any pubic hair, and genitals, which if he pulled them back between his legs and then closed his legs, disappeared making him look more female than ever. He felt his sack, the testes were very small as was his penis. “Did cycling cause this too?” he wondered, if so what was he to do?

He thought about Lance Armstrong, the Texan with more Tour wins under his belt than anyone. A man who'd had cancer of the testicles, and recovered then gone on to win those races. A man he respected. Not knowing what the illness or the treatment had done to Armstrong, Drew began to speculate, a dangerous thing.

'Armstrong looks butch enough, even if he's had trouble down below. If cycling caused me to be big bottomed....; He suddenly thought of the song by Queen, ‘Fat Bottomed Girls', and laughed as a few bars ran through his head. 'All this body stuff is temporary.' He thought to himself. 'Once I stop riding it will all turn normal if it's not normal now. Who's to say what normal is, anyway? Girls' saddles are more comfortable because girls are softer. They need things to be more padded. I'm a boy, so I'm tougher, I don't need a girl's saddle, but I prefer one because I do so much riding and it stops me getting sore.'

He realised he'd been staring at the reflection of his body in the mirror for umpteen minutes. Suddenly he felt very coy. What if Maddy had walked in, or Aunt Carol?

He quickly pulled on his knickers again, then the sports bra, then the cycling outfit. Thinking was confusing him, he needed to be out on the bike, ten minutes later he was.

It was only seven, according to his computer, he yawned and his eyes watered. He'd headed towards Wareham, up a hill, round a roundabout and down a dual carriageway. Traffic sped past him, but he was happy. He was concentrating on his rhythm and his speed. The road undulated like a woodpecker's flight, but he stuck to his rhythm and maintained a steady twenty miles an hour. His legs were hurting a little but it felt good, this was genuine pain, not that psychological stuff which does yer head in. This he could cope with, that ... that was for girls to deal with.

He upped a gear and his speed and pain increased as if he was trying to outrun his fears. He went on a few miles more, then looking at his computer realised he was overdoing things. He slowed down, and when the traffic permitted, turned back towards the cottage.

Some bloke walking his dog, wolf-whistled at him. Drew had momentarily forgotten his outward appearance was female. He felt tears in his eyes, 'Why do they all think I'm a girl?' He sat up more upright in his saddle, felt the bra pulling on his shoulders, and remembered why. 'Once I get these bloody things off, there is no way I shall ever wear them again.'

“Hi Gaby,” called a man's voice, from behind. Drew looked behind, closing fast was Matt from the bike shop. “fancy a race back to the village?”

Despite the tired legs Drew, clicked up a cog and began to think race mode. Matt caught him and passed, but Drew was now close behind and enjoying the slipstream. Then as they crested the hill, he dropped a cog and flew past the older rider, clicking up to top gear and screaming away, legs pumping and heart pounding. The computer registered fifty miles an hour, the mobile speed camera flashed, nearly shocking the two riders as they blasted through its electronic beam.

Drew won by about ten seconds, as they stopped outside the cottage. “Jeez girl, if you ride like that on Sunday, I'll need to order another bike, and your mother will have to look to her laurels.” He paused to breathe deeply for a moment. “Take it easy until Sunday, we'll pick you up about eight, the race is at ten, then the charity bimble. That was some ride, kid. I can see the pedigree. Carry on like that, and it could soon be Gaby Bond, Ladies' World Champion. How do you fancy that?”

“I dunno, I'll have to think about that,” said Gaby, while inside Drew was thinking, “It would be just my luck to win the Tour and get disqualified on the sex test, for really being female or something equally stupid.”

Matt declined an offer of a drink and pedalled off on aching legs towards his house near Weymouth. As he rode he thought, 'That girl could be another Jenny Bond, another world champion, in which case I need to keep in touch; it could give my sales and advertising a real boost.' He daydreamed, seeing ‘World Champion, Gaby Bond', opening his new shop. 'I've know Gaby for years, gave her one of my bikes when she agreed to ride in a charity race down here.' He saw himself telling reporters, as she pulled the tab on the curtain concealing the plaque. Yes, he would need to keep in touch with her, she was going places, a future British Champion if he was not mistaken.

Drew waddled into the house on wobbly leg. When Maddy saw him, she immediately bade him sit and she gave him a leg massage. “That is so ace,” said Drew to Maddy's massage skills.

“Where did you go?” she asked him.

“I went up towards Wareham for a bit, then turned around. I was halfway back when Matt appeared from nowhere and challenged me to race back here.”

“And…?”

“He lost,” chuckled Drew, as Maddy finished the rubbing on his legs.

“Should you be working that hard, I thought you came for a rest?”

“I'll be alright. He told me that if I rode like that on Sunday, he'd have to order another bike.”

“Oh yeah, he'd also get loadza publicity.”

“So, I may never come this way again.” Drew thought for a moment, he might not, but part of him liked the area and he'd like to see more, in which case he'd have to come again. “He asked me if I'd like to be Ladies' World Champion, like my mum.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I didn't really answer it.”

“Would you like to be the champion?”

“Which one?”

“The ladies', you know, like your mum.”

“If I was a girl I might, but I'm a boy, remember.”

“No, I can't remember that far back,” said Maddy, giggling and running upstairs with Drew in hot pursuit.

“Come on you two, shower please Drew, Maddy get your hair dried and combed please.” The voice of authority had spoken, in the form of Carol, and amazingly the two teenagers did as they were told.

Half an hour later, Maddy was doing Gaby's hair, putting it up. Gaby was pouting and half sulking because Maddy had insisted on each doing their own makeup. Inside the pretty teen body, Drew was a little frightened that something he'd not really done much before was becoming so easy.

It was hardly rocket science or a work of art, but it was yet another erosion of his position. Boys, except the likes of Rhod who was going bonkers, knew nothing about putting on makeup. They didn't know their mascara from their elbows. Here he was, not only doing it as well as Maddy had done it but doing it quite quickly. He pouted and ran the lipstick over his top lip and then the bottom one, rubbing them together to even things out. He blushed when he saw Maddy watching him.

'Goodness, he does that just like a girl, it looks so natural,' she thought to herself. What she said was nothing like that, a simple, “You're getting the hang of this aren't you?”

“Just ‘cos I can do it, doesn't mean I like it,” came back the riposte, from a very uncomfortable boy.

“How about heading towards the Isle of Purbeck today?” asked Carol.

“Isle, does that mean we have to get on a boat?” asked an excited Maddy.

“No, it's a peninsular, but that's what they call it,” replied Carol.

“What's there then?” enquired Drew.

“Corfe Castle, Wareham, several beaches including Swanage, a steam railway, more museums, or we can go to Poole if you like.”

“What's at Poole?” asked Maddy.

“Shops, Poole Harbour, Brownsea Island. That's a real island. It's where the Boy Scouts started, and they have red squirrels. There's also an oil field, with nodding donkeys and the rest of it.”

“What do they use donkeys for at an oil well?” asked Gaby, with a face that showed some genuine concern for the welfare of the donkeys. Knowing that underneath was a teenage boy, didn't stop Carol from seeing a very pretty girl who had a very soft heart unless you happened to be racing a bike against her.

“It's not real donkeys, it's what they call the pumps, because they go up and down. Remember they used donkeys to work pumps years ago, so the name has stuck.”

“Oh,” said Gaby, “I didn't know.” The look shifted from concern and tender-heartedness to one of innocence.

“I didn't know they had oil wells in England,” stated a surprised Maddy. “I thought they only happened in the Middle East or out at sea.”

“See, I told you Dorset was full of surprises,” smiled a superior feeling Carol. These days it was difficult to keep the initiative with the teens, so it was worthy of savouring the taste for a few moments.

“What's this Blue Pool?” asked Gaby looking at the map.

“It's the remains of clay workings which flooded and looks very blue when you see it.”

“I don't fancy that, sounds stupid.” Somehow, despite the makeup and the prettiness, Drew had managed to force his way through.

“It's years since I went, but from what I recall, we had a lovely walk around the place, lots of trees and wildlife,” reminisced Carol, with a faraway look in her eye.

“Is this castle place a real castle or another pile of mud and grass?” asked Maddy.

“I thought you enjoyed Maiden Castle, you did enough giggling,” said Carol, then, “Yes, it's a real castle, destroyed in the Civil War by Cromwell. According to the legend, the garrison was betrayed, otherwise, they'd have resisted for much longer.”

“Oliver Cromwell, he was the round-headed bloke with the wart on his conk, wasn't he?”

'Drew made another appearance,' thought Carol. “That's the one. Anyway, the Parliamentary forces were besieging the Royalist ones in the castle, when one of the Parliamentarians asked Lady Banks to surrender. She apparently, fired a cannon at him at point-blank range.”

“Who was Lady Banks?” asked Gaby, thinking, 'I'll bet she'd have been an ace on a bike.'

“The wife of the local landowner who was away fighting for the king, so he left her in charge. She was rather a tough cookie, by all accounts. After the castle was slighted, that means they blew it up, she moved to Kingston Lacy, which is a big house near Wimborne.”

“I think the race is near Wimborne on Sunday,” said Gaby, “what's at Wimborne?”

“A lovely old church with a fancy sundial, and an astrological clock. But if we're going there on Sunday, we can look around after the race.”

“What shops have they got in Poole?” asked Maddy.

“Probably the same as most places, remember I haven't been here in years, so I really don't know. They did have a department store or two, then, but I don't know what's there now.” Carol wondered how Maddy had taken so long to think about shopping, normally it came after breakfast, sometimes before.

Trying to lead things back to the Banks family, “Sir Joseph Banks was the botanist on Captain Cook's voyages,” said Carol.

“Whassat got t'do with shopping?” asked a now puzzled Maddy.

“Nothing I suppose.” Carol had now lost the initiative, this was the bit she hated about teenagers. Well, about Maddy as a teenager, Drew either in boy mode or as Gaby, was always more polite. Maddy was asserting herself a bit too often these days, she would have to discuss it with John. Although he wouldn't see it, because she never does it with him, bloody men.

“Well where are we going then, or it's going to get too late to go anywhere.”

Just then the phone rang. Carol went to answer it, she came back a few moments later. “The boys are asking you to go out with them. When I said we were going to Corfe, they asked if they could come too. I could hardly say no could I?”

“Oh no, Pinky and Perky are coming with us?” gasped Gaby.

“Looks like it,” said Maddy a little tersely.

“Did I do wrong then in saying yes to them?” asked Carol feeling a bit flustered.

“Ye ….” Gaby was cut short by Maddy's glare, Mad was supporting her mum, and not even Drew was allowed to openly criticise her mum. That was Maddy's job, and she didn't feel critical at the moment. Besides after the dance the other night, it would be interesting to see what happened between Gaby and Harry. Was Drew going to be subsumed by Gaby and was Gaby going to have girly feelings towards Harry. He was a nice lad, so Gaby could do worse, and because Maddy knew Harry wasn't the sort to take advantage, Gaby could explore her feminine side a little more if she wanted. Yes, this was going to be an interesting day.

The doorbell rang, and the boys were waiting outside. “I got these for you,” said Harry pushing the small bunch of flowers into an astonished Drew's hand. He caught sight of the confused look on his ‘girlfriend's' face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Drew began to blush, and Maddy had to deliberately hold her breath to stifle a giggle. “No, they're really nice,” said an embarrassed Drew.

“Hadn't you better put them in water?” asked Carol, who too was intrigued to see how Gaby handled the situation.

“Uh? Oh yeah,” mumbled Gaby and went to the kitchen, where she eventually found a vase which she filled with water and unceremoniously dumped the flowers into it. “Maddy can sort it later,” thought Drew to himself. “This is getting silly, I should never have allowed him to pretend I was his girlfriend. I'm going to have to put a stop to this.”

Appearing back in the hallway, Gaby noticed that Maddy and Carol were looking at Harry's face. As she approached she saw he had a bit of a black eye. “What happened to your eye?”

“Oh that, I was just telling Maddy and her mum, that I ran into Cheeseman yesterday. He wasn't impressed that I had a prettier girlfriend than he did, and he was doubly pissed, sorry Mrs Peters, when he discovered you were Jenny Bond's daughter.”

“He hit you for that?” asked a concerned Gaby, inside whom, Drew was fighting mad. Cheesecake was going to pay, and dearly.

Harry nodded, but William interrupted, “Tell ‘em the full story.” At this Harry shook his head. “Okay, I will. Just so you know how rotten Cheeseman is, I'll tell you what happened. He insulted you and your mother. Harry, our little hero here, told him to take it back. Cheeseman whacked him one in the face.”

“So he got his shiner defending me?” asked an astonished but very impressed Gaby. Inside but very well hidden, seethed a boy's spirit who vowed Cheeseman would pay, big time.

“'Fraid so,” confirmed William.

“I suppose I should say thank you. Thank you,” said a blushing Gaby.

“Well, give him a kiss then,” urged Maddy, “that's what an affronted heroine usually does to her defender who may or may not be mortally wounded in protecting her honour.” 'I'm well over the top, but let's see what happens,' she said silently to herself.

Almost in a trance, Gaby kissed Harry on the cheek and muttered thanks again.

Harry, who was now glowing with pride, his chest swelling fit to burst, responded, “For you, anytime.”

Carol who had watched this theatre unfold before her was mesmerised. She could see that Maddy was pulling the strings, although Drew was well within his rights to disobey or disagree, he just acted like her puppet. It was weird and Maddy and she would need to have words if this controlling continued. She had no problem with Gaby dominating Drew's life if it was what he/she wanted. In many ways it seemed more natural, it had to be Drew or Gaby's choice, not Maddy's. But, it was fascinating to watch nonetheless.

“Did you get your bike, for the race?” asked Harry, anxious to get into this girl's world and increase the bond between them. It was a forlorn hope, except he didn't know it.

“Yeah, it's quite nice,” said Gaby, “Do you want to see it?”

“Rather,” said Harry. Before Carol could voice a protest, the four teenagers trooped out to the garage to look at the red machine.

“Wow!” exclaimed Harry, “that's a bit of alright.”

Now it was Gaby's turn to glow. “It's not bad at all,” and she went into a long list of its specifications.

“And they've given it to you?”

“No, it's just on loan,” Gaby replied with a small frown.

“Unless she wins on Sunday, then she can keep it,” said Maddy, feeling a bit left out of things.

“Well, you'll just jolly well have to win, won't you?” said Harry, “I'll be there cheering for you.”

“As long as I beat Cheesecake, I don't care,” voiced a determined Drew, because it was him inside his pretty alter ego, who was going to do the job no matter the cost.

“That's gonna take some doing,” added William, “He's supposed to be pretty good.”

“So is our Gabs, aren't you? Warsop's finest," boasted Maddy.

“She'll have to be,” William noted, with a little concern in his voice, “Cheeseman is so strong.”

“Gabs is a National Champion,” continued Maddy oblivious to what she was saying, caught up more in the emotion than the thought of it. Drew's eyes flashed, and she suddenly realised what had slipped out.

“You're not are you?” asked a very impressed Harry.

“Not what?” replied Gaby, thinking how to minimise the damage.

“A National Champion?”

“No, course not. My brother is. I just train with him.”

“And she's beaten him a few times,” lied Maddy, trying to undo what had slipped out in the heat of the moment. “So she's as good as.”

“You have a brother?” asked Harry.

“Yeah.”

“I'd like to meet him,” said Harry, at which both Maddy and Gaby felt a cold sensation in the pit of their stomachs.

“He's in Germany with their mum at the moment,” interjected Maddy, "So it would be difficult."

“Yeah, right,” said Harry, “Pity, if he's as nice as his sister, I think I'd like him and he'd probably be able to sort out Cheeseman, too.”

“I doubt it,” added Gaby, who while enjoying this hero-worship by proxy, didn't want Maddy dropping them any further in the cart, “he's good on a bike but doesn't do fighting. He leaves that to Maddy.” This last remark was said tongue in cheek, “She can stop a charging bull with a look.”

This invoked a look of astonishment from Maddy and laughs all around, all of which was cut short by Carol's entry into the garage. “Well, you lot, are we going out or having a garage party?”

A short while later they were heading south-east towards the area of Dorset known as the ‘Isle of Purbeck', passing through the edge of Wareham Forest as they went. Through several villages and passed the old ‘Dragon' nuclear reactor at Winfrith, which had been decommissioned some years ago, but would remain a partly closed site for many years. Nearby, is the county police headquarters. Here the geology is heathland, once widespread in Dorset, much has disappeared under roads or housing since the last war. Heathland is a sandy, acid soil that is poor for growing many crops. However, it has one or two interesting animals living on or in it, namely the smooth snake and sand lizard.

Not far away there is a secret site of a particular spider, which is the only place in the British Isles where it has been found. Sadly, it and many other smaller, slow-moving creatures are threatened each year by heath fires, some of which are started deliberately by rather stupid people.

Being sandy soil, it drains very quickly, so it dries quickly too. Then, it doesn't need much of a dry spell to become tinder dry and a pyromaniac's dream. As they drove across the heath they could see large black swathes where burning had occurred, between the trees and gorse coverts. Generally speaking, the locals respect the wildlife, after all, it brings in the tourists, birdwatchers, insect and bug hunters, wild-flower lovers and lots of others who just enjoy the beautiful countryside.

The road skirts through the edge of Wareham, and it's only a few miles to Corfe Castle. The countryside is flatter to the leeward; towards the sea is the natural barrier of the Purbeck Hills and south downs. It is impossible to miss the castle, which stands damaged but proud upon the hill around which the road winds. Whoever first considered putting it here knew what they were doing as it completely dominates the landscape and the road in and out of the peninsular.

The village is small and most of the houses are old, primarily of stone robbed from the fallen giant which oversees them still. The visitors were suitably impressed. It was a large edifice by any standards. The car park is at the far end of the village, through which you walk to view the castle. Near the centre of the village and the driveway of the castle are two pubs and several shops catering for the tourists, as well as a café and a model of the village. The latter a particularly British thing.

At the car park, there was cause for great humour. Adjacent to the car park was a small building site, the building company was called ‘Drew'. Maddy, eagle-eyed as ever saw it first and started to laugh. She pointed at the red and white sign, Gaby laughed and so did Carol. The boys looked bemused. “Drew has his own building company,” said Maddy.

“Who's Drew?” asked William.

Realising her mistake, she answered, “Drew is Gaby's brother.” Carol and Gaby kept smiling but exchanged furtive glances. Keeping up the deception had its dangers, and Maddy who should know better seemed especially accident-prone.

The whole area is a conservation one and subject to stiff planning laws, almost needing planning permission to pull one's curtains. It is also horrendously expensive, and many of the cottages with parking access sport big and expensive cars, often four by fours, most of which have never been driven off-road. They are fashion accessories.

As they walked towards the castle, Carol held forth on the history and pointed out interesting bits of architecture in the village. Drew wasn't really listening, although he took plenty of pictures on his digital camera for his dad to see when he got home.

What was taking much of his attention was trying to avoid Harry's closeness. Carol watched in fascination as the wounded protector, stuck to his role like glue, and almost as tight to his charge. His arm being placed around the shoulders or waist of his ‘girlfriend', who was not at all interested, but to which he seemed oblivious.

When they went in the National Trust gift shop, he bought her a fluffy bunny. In the sweetshop, he got her an ice cream despite her protests. Maddy wondered how long it would take Drew to make an appearance and some strong words or a slap to happen, but they didn't. She couldn't make out if Gaby was really getting into a girly roleplay, or if Drew was seething underneath, counting to ten over and over again. Either way, it was very interesting.