Previously…

‘Down ‘ere on holidays then?’

‘Erm no, I’m just visiting my aunt.’

‘’Who be that then?’

‘Abigail Silverton.’

‘Abby, you ‘er niece then?’

‘Yes, do you know her?’

‘Everyone does. She owns the pottery, downalong.’

‘Where does she live?’ I asked eagerly.

‘You should know bein’ kin an that.’

‘I er, lost her address and anyway I want to surprise her.’

It sounded a bit weak to me, but there it was.

The girl looked at me slightly suspiciously and then shrugged.

‘Well I don’t think a little thing like you is an axe murder or somethin’ so I’ll tell you. The pottery is closed till after Christmas, so’s the art gallery where Sam works, so you best go to Jellicle Cottage upalong.

‘Where’s Upalong, is that the name of the road?’

She laughed.

‘Silly biddy, it’s the way we speak around ‘ere. I mean up the hill, near the top, turn left, the last cottage on the right. You can’t miss it as the place is crawling with ‘er and Sam’s cats.

‘Thanks.’ I said.

‘No prob.’ She replied smiling and walking away to serve other customers.

I finished my tea as soon as I could and looking at my watch, I could see that it was now nearly 2.30.

‘I’d better go,’ I thought.

I left a tip and did the finger wave thing to the waitress and left the café.

I soon found the lane that I was after and went up it. I wondered who this Sam was. Could she have married this Sam?

It was no good speculating, as I would hopefully know soon enough.

Five minutes walk and I was there. I stood at the gate of Jellicle Cottage, a cat rubbing up against my leg and kindly depositing hair on my skirt.

This was the moment that I had been dreading since I had the idea of going there.

I pushed the gate open, and with the cat running ahead of me, I walked up the path and knocked on the door.

And now the story continues…

I waited for a moment and knocked again. The cat brushed up against my leg, no doubt in the hope that the door would magically open.

It didn’t.

Then I noticed a note pinned up on a rustic wooden post to the right of the door.

Mrs P, gone to L.F’s for the night, as agreed, please feed the cats.

See you tomorrow.

Abby and Sam
XXX

‘Bum,’ I said under my breath. The cat decided to take matters into her or his own hands and disappeared around the back, where no doubt a strategically placed cat flap was used to gain lawful entry, as the say in police shows.

I sighed and wondered when my luck was actually going to change.

Turning away, I made my way back down the path, pondering what I should do now.

Looking up at the sky, I frowned. I may not be a weather expert, but the clouds up there looked like they were just about ready to break and I would bet a pound to a penny, it would come down as snow; it was cold enough.

As all the action, such as there was, was down at the quay/seafront, I decided to go back and have yet another cup of tea and work out my options.

A woman with a buggy was coming up the hill. The baby was barely visible under a pile of woolen clothes, blankets and other assorted warm stuff.

‘Hello, m’ducks,’ said the lady.

‘Hello,’ I replied, my teeth chattering slightly.

‘’You’m be Abby’s niece then?’

‘Erm yes,’

‘She’s away upalong at the big house with Sam.’

‘Upawhat?’

She smiled.

‘Gone away, luv.’

‘Oh right; erm, are you Mrs. P.’

‘Missus who?’

‘P.’

‘No ducks, me name is Harris. Anyway, can’t hang around, Harriett ‘ere needs ‘er bum changed.’

‘Oh right.’

With a nod, she was gone.

I walked several yards before it dawned on me that she knew about who I was and I could have asked a few questions about where “Upalong” was, maybe it was the name of a house? Then I remembered that it was the term for up the hill or something. As there were any number of hills in the area, I had no idea where Aunty Abby and the mysterious Sam and L.F, whoever that was, would be.

I shrugged and then shivered as blast of cold air wafted up my skirt. Dressing girly wasn’t always practical!

I carried on down the hill, one eye on the gathering clouds. It was funny, on the way up to the cottage, it was bright and sunny, if a bit cold. In the twinkling of an eye, the weather had changed and it looked like we were in for a bit of rough weather.

It was starting to get dark now, partly because of the heavy cloud cover and also the fact that it was that time of year when the sun gives up the ghost after four o’clock.

A lot of the cottages and houses had Christmas lights and it all looked very festive. I passed some people going up the hill and most people gave me a smile and a nod. It seemed a very friendly place.

An oldish man looked a bit confused as he was standing by the kerb, obviously wanting to cross the road.

I was a bit on the shy side but, being a Good Samaritan, I went up to him.

‘Let me help you.’ I said.

He replied with something intelligible in the local dialect and I walked him across the road. He was struggling a bit, no doubt shaky in the legs, but I finally managed to get him across in one piece.

‘There we are,’ I said, satisfied that I had done my good deed for the day.

He looked at me with rheumy eyes.

‘Silly biddy, didn’t want ter cross t’ road,’ he said toothlessly and shaking his stick at me. With one last disgusted glance over his shoulder, he went off muttering to himself.

I just couldn’t win today!

Then a snowflake landed on my nose.

Snow is very pretty when you are inside in a nice warm house looking out. Also it can be fun to play in and with when you are small. However, that first snowflake didn’t stay single for long. In the time it took to spell snowball, the white stuff started to come down heavily and if you add that to the fact that the wind got up and was blowing snow in my face, you can see that it would be a good idea for me to find some shelter.

I huddled in a doorway as the weather did its worst. There wasn’t anyone around now. Most sensible people were inside in the warm.

I saw a few hardy seagulls trying manfully or even womanfully to fly into the wind, but they were making heavy weather of it.

I needed to get somewhere warm and fast.

The snow briefly lessened somewhat and I made a dash for it. A bit difficult that, as the ground was getting a bit slippy underfoot.

Then another blast of Siberian weather forced me to shelter in another doorway.

‘Oops, sorry.’ I said as I cannoned into a woman who obviously had the same idea as me and was sheltering in the same doorway.

She was dressed rather strangely in a mixture of clothes from several eras, from the 50’to the 70’s I would say, but I was no fashion expert.

She was wearing a long linen skirt, that was once white, but looked a trifle grubby now. Some black woolen tights, several multicoloured jumpers, a nylon mac, a bobble hat with a clear plastic rain hood over that, done up under her chin. She had multicoloured makeup on her face that looked like it had been applied with a trowel.

Fashion diva, she was not.

She looked at me and smiled.

‘Beware, the strange dark man.’

‘Pardon?’

‘A storm is coming.’

‘It’s here now.’

‘Epiphany is nearly upon us. Beware of Greeks bearing gifts. Have you seen the light?’

‘Sorry, I don’t have a torch, bye.’

I wasn’t going to stay there with someone who was off her trolley.

After dodging in doorways several times, I found my way back to the quay, feeling cold and damp, with a sprinkling of snow on my clothes and hair.

Then the snow stopped suddenly and the wind dropped to nothing as if turned off by a switch.

The sky miraculously cleared and the moon shone brightly and the stars did their twinkling thing.

Strange weather they had around there!

There was no one about, and I just stood there, taking in the scenery.

The quay was lit up with thousands of coloured lights. The tree in its alcove was decorated with hundreds of tiny blue lights and the whole scene looked like something out of Dickens.

Brightly lit angels and other decorations hung between lampposts and across the road, swaying slightly in the now gentle breeze. The snow on the ground and on the roofs of the buildings all helped to add to the festive and Christmassy look of this very pretty seaside village.

I could really understand why my aunt lived here.

I heard some music in the distance and a glow. I headed towards it.

I turned a corner and gasped.

There were people there and an ice rink!

Children and adults, all warmly dressed in heavy jumpers, scarves and hats were attempting to skate, some very well and others falling on their bottoms every few minutes. Also there were many people just watching the antics of those trying there best not to look daft on skates.

I had two left feet on skates, so I wasn’t tempted to try. What I was tempted with was the wonderful smell coming from the fish and chip shop on the corner. I didn’t know when I would be eating again and that was my excuse to go and buy some food.

It was nice and hot in the shop as I walked up to the counter. The girl serving looked up and smiled.

‘Yes love?’

‘Haddock and chips please.’

‘Sorry, haddock is off, you can have cod if you like.’

‘Yes please,’ I replied.

In a few moments it was ready and after liberally sprinkling with salt and vinegar, I went over to the side, sat at a table and ate my meal out of the paper, looking out of the window at the ice rink. It was warmer in there and I needed to thaw out a bit.

After a minute or two I took my coat off, as it was very warm in there and I was beginning to glow as we girls say.

As I ate the wonderful food, I pondered as to what I should do next.

I hadn’t foreseen the possibility that Auntie Abby was not going to be home. I needed a plan as to what I could do next.

I switched on my phone, hoping to have some sort of signal, so I could go on the web to find out about accommodation in the area.

There were 3 messages and a voicemail.

The messages were from him.

Come home now and we will forget about everything.

The second was briefer.

Your brothers are missing you.

‘I bet,’ I thought as I opened the final one.

It’s all been a misunderstanding. Your mum would want you here.

So it had been a misunderstanding when he hacked off my hair and hurt me?

My eyes were leaking a bit now, for some reason, but I took a deep breath and I pressed the button for voicemail.

In second I was listening to John’s voice.

‘Andy, what the hell is going on? You won’t answer my text or calls. Look, I was angry and shocked when I saw you dressed like that after I told you not to. I’m still upset about losing your mum and I sort of flipped. We need to talk and you should be home with your family. Don’t do anything stupid. Call me and let me know where you are. Your brothers are really upset about what happened. Call me please. Erm, I love you.’

Suddenly the fish and chips felt like ashes in my mouth and I was no longer hungry.

It was a good thing that I was sitting away from the counter, over in the corner or people might have wondered why I was crying my eyes out.

He didn’t love me, nor did the boys. He wanted me to go back so that I didn’t report him to the authorities. I felt my arm where he had gripped me tightly. It still hurt and felt bruised. Under my wig, my hair had been hacked away by him. I couldn’t forget that and the way I had been treated by all of them.

If I did go back, it would be on his terms. I would have to pretend to be a boy and I couldn’t do that. He wasn’t my dad and never would be. I realised that he only tolerated me because of Mum. Now she was gone, all the pretense of “happy family” had gone with her.

I wondered if Mum and Dad were looking down at me. I wasn’t overly religious and nothing that had happened to me since Dad died had me feel that I should believe in God. Maybe there was someone up there looking out for us, but I could see precious little evidence of it at that moment.

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose on a tissue. This was no good; I had to look forward not back. John and his kids were in the “back” category. I was nearly sixteen and I had to make a go of it for the sake myself and my parents. They wouldn’t want me wallowing in self-pity.

Although I wasn’t really feeling hungry, I carried on eating my food and sipped at the cup of tea that I had bought. Then I looked at my phone again and saw that I couldn’t get 3G as the signal was too weak. So the idea of looking on line for accommodation was out. I would have to ask someone.

The girl behind the counter looked nice, so in a lull of customers I got up and went over to her.

She looked up and smiled.

‘Yes love?’

‘Erm, do you know of anywhere I could stay tonight?’

‘Got no-one ‘ere ter stay with then?’

‘No.’

I didn’t want to say that I was Auntie Abby’s niece because she had no idea that I wasn’t her nephew, if you know what I mean and I wanted to break that fact to her personally rather than through the village grapevine, which I suspected was pretty strong around there.

‘Bit young ter be ‘ere by youself.’

“Young”, that was rich coming from her. She couldn’t have been much older than me. Mind you, I was short for my age and I suppose looked about twelve or in bad light maybe thirteen.

‘Not really, I’m sixteen,’ I fibbed.

‘Yea, right,’ she said rather dismissively.

‘I am.’ I said rather loudly.

‘Sorree!’ she replied holding up her hands and smiling, ‘Look, all the hotels will be full; what with the visitors an that, but old Ma Potts takes in lodgers, she might have room.’

‘Where is she?’ I asked forgetting her remarks about my age in an instant.

‘Left outside here, down the lane for fifty yards,’ she stopped for a moment and then counted off on her fingers, ‘then first right, go down that lane; it’s one, two, three, no fourth cottage on the right. Can’t miss it; red door, brass bell outside, called Dun Roamin.’

‘Thanks.’ I said, slightly confused.

‘No prob, ducks,’ she replied as several customers came in at once.

While I still had the directions in my head, I left the warmth of the chippy and made my way towards Dun Roamin.

I would have liked to stay on the quay and watch some more people falling about on the ice, but I had things to do and my case seemed to get heavier and heavier as I made my way up the hilly lane. Carrying my ruckie didn’t help much and I now knew what a pack mule felt like. Reading wasn’t as hilly as this and despite my tender age, I think that I was a wee bit out of condition.

Counting off the cottages, I finally arrived at my destination, which for the sake of clarification, was the fifth, not the fourth on the right.

I rang the door bell, or rather I clanged it using the knotted rope. It was made of brass, quite large and would have looked in place on one of those big sailing schooner thingies.

The bell was so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin and the noise scared about a thousand seagulls who had been minding their own business on the roofs there abouts.

A few moments later the door opened and an old lady peered out at me.

‘Go on then,’ she said.

‘Pardon?’

She tapped her foot impatiently.

‘Sing yer carols, I ‘aven’t got all day.’

‘I’m not a carol singer.’

‘Yer look like one.’

‘I’m not though.’

‘What yer clanging on me door fer then?’

‘You have some rooms?’

‘Plenty of them.’

‘Erm, the girl at the chip shop said that you do B&B.’

‘B and what?’

‘B.’

‘Yer mean bed and breakfast? Why didn’t yer say so? Can’t stand all these initials for things. In my day yer didn’t use initials. N.H.S, D.H.S.S, a woman gets confused. And don’t talk about this texting lark. My Harry got me one of those new fangled mobile phone things. Told me ter text’ im when dinners ready. ‘E goes down the Toad and Tart for his three pints evry night and he knows when dinners on table without ‘avin te bloody text ‘im. Now I ‘ave ter text the bugger, Din on Tbl. It aint right and its not natural.’

This was going nowhere and I was beginning to lose the will ter…I mean to live.

‘So can yer, I mean you take me in then?’

‘Ow old are yer?’

‘Sixteen.’

‘Yer look about twelve. When I was your age I was working as a land girl. None of yer easy ways then. If yer didn’t work, yer didn’t eat and yer got the strap from Father.’

I turned away.

‘Where are yer goin?’

‘To find somewhere to stay.’

‘My place not good enough then?’

‘But…’

She just motioned me in and then shut the door.

‘Don’t mind me dear. It’s me lumbago playin up.’

‘How much is it?’

‘What.’

‘For a room for the night.’

Suddenly she had cash register eyes, as she looked me up and down.

‘Twenty and five fer breakfast; can’t be farer than that.’

I gulped, I only had forty pounds left and I wondered if they would have a bank machine somewhere.

Being a runaway was an expensive business.

The thought of trying somewhere else was a bit daunting and I remembered what the girl in the chip shop said about the place being packed with festive holidaymakers.

‘Okay.’ I said.

She held out a wizened and gnarly hand that shook slightly. I took that to mean that she wanted the cash up front and I opened my purse and gave her the required sum. She carefully checked the bills were genuine and the stuffed the money in her nylon pinny.

‘Right at top of the stairs, first door on the left.’

She gave me two Yale type keys, one for the front door and the other for the room and then went off into her lair and left me to go up to find my room. I had a feeling that customer care wasn’t at the top of her agenda.

I struggled up the steep stairs with my case and ruckie. Where was the bellboy when you needed him? But this girl was made of stern stuff and I wouldn’t let those flaming stairs get me down.

I found the door in question and the door opened with the key. I was expecting a grim type room with pealing wallpaper; an uncomfortable, lumpy bed and furniture obtained by skip raiding. I was pleasantly surprised that it was clean, the furniture looked plain but newish and not too bad at all. The bed, when doing the bouncy test, showed that it was comfortable and would be nice to sleep in. Altogether, I was pleasantly surprised.

Looking at my watch, I noticed that it was now 7.00pm; where had the time gone?

Another surprise was that the room had an en-suite. Not very big, just a shower, wash basin and loo, but it was enough for little me. On the dressing table was a kettle with tea and coffee things. This was good and I was now thinking that my luck might have actually changed a bit. I had somewhere to stay for the night that was rather nice.

I took off my coat and hung it up on one of the hangers in the closet. My boots came off next and I sighed contentedly as I had an ecstatic moment where I could rub my aching feet through my tights. My boots were nice and quite fashionable, but the heels did things to my arches that would make a foot doctor grimace.

Eventually, I laid back on the bed and it didn’t take long for my eyes to close and I slept a dreamless sleep.

Something woke me up and I rubbed my eyes and sat up. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was now 8.30. Looking out of the window, I could see some flakes of snow falling.

Stretching, I stood up and went over to the window. It was dark outside; well it would be at that time of night, but I could see down onto the quay with its twinkling lights. To the left was the brightly lit ice rink with some hardy people still falling over.

I felt better for my sleep. It had been a long and eventful day. I made myself a cup of tea and noticed on the table by the bed, some leaflets about what was on in the area. There were a few events on Boxing Day, including the Christmas Pudding Fun Run. I wasn’t sure if that was the prize or just a way to get rid of over indulgence over Christmas!

Picking up a rather plain leaflet I saw that it was from the local church.

An Evening Carol Service at 9 O’clock on Christmas Eve ~All Welcome.

It brought back memories of my parents and me going to church and singing carols.

The church, I had noticed was at the top of the hill; it would be! I decided that I didn’t want to be alone tonight and that this might be something nice to go to. I didn’t need to change as my clothes were smart enough and I would have thought that most people would rather dress up warmly than make some sort of fashion statement in weather like this.

I brushed my hair, touched up my makeup and lippy, then put my boots and coat on. Glancing out of the window, I noticed that the snow wasn’t very heavy, just a few flakes drifting gently down.

After picking up my purse and putting it in my shoulder bag, I picked my key and let myself out.

I crept down the stairs, as I didn’t particularly want to disturb Ma Potts for some reason.

All was quiet as I let myself out onto the lane. It was easy to see where the church was at it was floodlit and I could see the spire peaking up beyond some trees. I just needed to carry on up the hill and it was at the end.

A few people were walking up and I was given a cheery greeting. Most people seemed to be very friendly around there. True, there were a few crackpots about, but nothing’s perfect.

Just then the church bells peeled out and the sound reverberated around the bay, echoing off the hills and cove and sounding very festive.

People came from side roads as we went on and soon there was a stream of adults and excited children making their way to the church.

In no time at all, we were in the grounds of the church, with its ancient gravestones dotted about. We filed into the church and it was already nearly full.

There were flowers everywhere and a lovely Christmas tree by the side of the font. It was such a pretty church and looked well looked after. It was nice and warm as ceiling heaters were going at full blast.

I found a pew that was free, about three rows from the front and I sat down, nodding to my neighbors as I did so.

The organ was playing a medley of Christmas tunes and there was the constant chatter of people catching up on one another’s lives.

Just then, there was a hush from the talking as an imposing old woman in an unfashionable fur coat and a hat with birds’ feathers came in; she was on the arms of a pretty young girl. The old lady looked formidable and I wouldn’t have liked to meet her on a dark night. Behind her came two beautiful women, who were smiling and nodding to the congregation as they passed.

I assumed that this was the local gentry and wondered if I should touch my forelock or something; maybe even courtesy, but as others hadn’t done it, I didn’t bother.

They made their way majestically to the front and sat in the ringside seats.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the bells stopped pealing and the organ finished playing; then the bells tolled nine o’clock. After the ninth chime, the organist started playing and from the back I could hear the sound of the choir singing Once in Royal David's City.

A few seconds later, the vicar came in, followed by the surpliced choir of girls and boys carrying long candles.

On the second chorus, according to the order of service booklet, we were all to join in.

As I started singing, all of the tension that had been building since early that morning left me.

There was a couple with two youngish children next to me and as we finished the hymn, the lady leaned over and whispered, ‘you have a lovely voice dear, you should be in the choir.’

I just felt myself blush and whispered back, ‘I’m only visiting.’

I did have a nice voice and the pills had stopped my voice breaking. I had been in the school choir at my old school and had been the soloist several times. It was funny, I was quite a shy person really, but singing seemed to overcome that.

The vicar stood at the lectern and fiddled with his glasses and then looked up.

‘Thank you all for coming on this rather chilly night. Lets hope we can all warm up with some nice carols. We are here to celebrate the birth of Christ and the wonderful gift of life. We must also not forget those who are less fortunate than ourselves and need our help, support and prayers. Anyway, I can see that the little ones are eager to start singing and so let’s get the ball rolling with Hark The Herald Angels Sing.’

The service was lovely and all the old favorites were there, including a lovely rendition of Away In The Manger performed by infants from the local school and Silent Night beautifully sung by a member of the choir.

The service was short as the vicar was obviously aware that it was late and that there were little ones in the congregation who were dying to get to bed so that Father Christmas could weave his magic.

All to soon, the carol service was over and everyone filed out. The vicar was there to shake hands with everyone. I waited until most people had left and then made my way to the exit.

I shook the vicar’s hand.

‘Thank you vicar, that was lovely.’

‘As was your voice my dear.’ He replied, smiling.

‘Y…you heard me?’ I stammered.

‘I think that everyone did. Even Lady Fairbairn remarked about it.’

‘Lady Fairbairn?’

‘Ah, you are not a local, I believe? She is what passes as local royalty. Are you staying long?’

‘I don’t know. I am here to visit my Aunt.’

‘well if you do stay you must come along to choir practice. Where are your parents?’

‘Erm, not here, In Reading.’ I fibbed.

I was worried that if my circumstances were known, I might be sent back to the place that I laughingly called home. Until I saw my Aunt, I didn’t want anybody to know anything about me. Lying to a vicar might be a cardinal sin, but I had to take the chance and hope that I would not get struck by lightning; but knowing my luck…

‘Well have a nice stay,’ he said smiling and then he turned to greet the last few stragglers coming out of the church. I was glad that he didn’t ask who my aunt was as I would have had to tell another fib.

Just then, a huge Rolls Royce, glided out of the cark park at the side of the church. With a real life chauffer in the front, with the young girl I had seen with the lady. In the back were the two beautiful women and the formidable old lady who looked piercingly at me as the car passed and I shivered. She scared me witless, for some reason!

Going downhill from church was easier than going up and it didn’t take long to reach Dun Roamin. There were still quite a few people about and as it had stopped snowing, I decided to go down to the quay for one last time before going to bed.

As I went along, I hoped that Auntie Abby would be home tomorrow — Christmas Day. I wondered who this Sam was and I also wondered if she was married to him? I had noticed a sign just inside her garden gate that said,

Santa’s sleigh park, keep clear.

It had a picture of Santa on his sleigh with a big red bag of presents in the back. This made me wonder if they had kids. There was so much I didn’t know about my aunt and I wondered, not for the first time, what had happened in the past that stopped her keeping in contact with us.

It was quieter down at the quay as people started to wend their way home and the few shops that were open had put up their shutters for the night. The fish and chip shop had closed by then and the ice rink had just a few hardy stragglers left standing. I walked along the prom to the pottery, which was obviously closed, but the windows were lit and I could see in there.

I knew that Auntie Abby threw pots and she was very good. I wondered how many of the items on display had been created by her. I had a feeling that it was most of them and I marveled at her skill. The colourful plates, pots, vases and figures were wonderful and vibrant. After a few minutes I moved on to next door, which was an art gallery. I could see various paintings exhibited and according to a sign on the wall, they were all painted by local artists. Whoever owned the gallery had taste and I liked virtually everything on show.

Looking at my watch, I turned away and glanced out to sea. The moon was low on the horizon and its light was reflected off the sea. It was all so pretty and totally different from where I used to live. Don’t get me wrong, Reading was nice, well the part where we lived was anyway, but things had changed and I no longer considered it home.

I could see myself living here in this magical place but it all depended on my Aunt and what, if anything she could do for me. I had no idea whether she would accept me as a girl. Lets face it, the world is full of bigots and my heart would break if she were like that. Maybe she found out that I was a girl now and wouldn’t accept me for who I was?

It was all a guessing game and it was getting me nowhere. I turned away from the sea and made my way up to Dun Roamin.

I started as someone grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

I gasped.

‘Hello Andy.’

It was John.

---

To Be Continued…

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

 

Previously…

Looking at my watch, I turned away and glanced out to sea. The moon was low on the horizon and its light was reflected off the sea. It was all so pretty and totally different from where I used to live. Don’t get me wrong, Reading was nice, well the part where we lived was anyway, but things had changed and I no longer considered it home.

I could see myself living here in this magical place but it all depended on my Aunt and what, if anything she could do for me. I had no idea whether she would accept me as a girl. Lets face it, the world is full of bigots and my heart would break if she were like that. Maybe she found out that I was a girl now and wouldn’t accept me for who I was?

It was all a guessing game and it was getting me nowhere. I turned away from the sea and made my way up to Dun Roamin.

I started as someone grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

I gasped.

‘Hello Andy.’

It was John.

And now the story continues…

His other hand grabbed my arm, the arm that still had a vivid and nasty bruise, caused, you guessed it, by the slime ball standing in front of me.

I looked around wildly; it was typical that when you wanted the cavalry, the only live thing around was a cat washing its private parts on a snow-covered wall.

‘H...how did you know I was here?’ I asked through gritted teath, trying to loosen his vice like grip on my painful arm.

‘I just kind of knew that you would try to find Abby. She’s your only living relative, as far as I know. As you wouldn’t answer my texts or messages; it didn’t take much imagination to know where you were going. I have been driving for hours. Look, you have to come home.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you belong there, with your family.’

I got the impression that he wasn’t being sincere and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him; which wouldn’t have been more than an inch because he was a big bloke.

‘I did belong there, but I don’t any more. You did a hateful thing to me and you hurt me. You won’t let me live as a girl and on top of that, the boys can’t stand me. Let go of my arm, you’re hurting me!’

He was pulling me along now and still no one was about and joy on joy, it had started snowing again.

‘Look, no argument, you are fifteen and I am your legal guardian. You are coming home.’

‘Would you let me live as a girl?’ I asked more out of hope than expectation, whilst still struggling to get out of his grip.

‘No, we have talked about this before. You are a boy and no amount of pills or future operations will change that.’

‘But I am a girl.’

‘Bullshit; why I didn’t come down on this nonsense before, I don’t know. Your mum was soft in the head for believing you.’

‘Don’t talk about Mum like that.’

‘Your mum was taken in by you. Well I am not and you will do as I say.’

We had reached the car park behind the harbour office. There were several cars and a van there, but no people. It was snowing quite hard now and I was feeling the cold.

John had stopped talking now and was virtually dragging me to his car, an Audi, which he had bought following Mum’s death.

We reached the car in a moment and he stopped in front of it and looked me full in the face.

‘Now are you going to come quietly or am I going to have to punish you?’

I wasn’t one for swearing or showing violence, but I was provoked and in pain.

‘Piss off John,’ I screamed and then spat in his face. With all the force that I could muster

He slapped me hard on the side of my head and I swear that I saw stars and then he bundled me into the car. My hearing was feeling a bit muffled where he had hit me.

I must have been a bit dazed, as the next moment I was in the car and he was driving up the hill, one of only two ways out of Penmarris.

As we drove up, I was quiet. It was all going pear shaped. I hoped so much for things to finally start getting better for me, but now, if anything it was worse — a lot worse.

We did pass a few hardy souls walking, or rather slipping along the road. The wind had come up again and it was blowing a blizzard outside. I had no hope of catching anyone’s attention in weather like that.

I felt a trickle of something wet on my neck. I felt it with my hand and I saw that I had been bleeding. Tracing it, I realised that I was bleeding from my ear.

I looked at John. His face was a picture. It still had some of my spittle on it, but it was his expression that caught my attention. I had never seen him like this. I thought that he was angry with me when he caught me dressed the other night, but this was worse. He was livid and I swear I just make out a vein throbbing on his temple.

‘Please let me go.’ I sobbed. ‘You hurt me again. My ear hurts.’

‘Don’t be such a cry baby, shut up and don’t speak until I tell you. I need to concentrate and you will be quiet. Just wait until I get you home…’

We had nearly reached the apex of the hill and despite the traction control on the car, we hit a really slippery patch and the car slid to the side of the road and I think the wheel hit a curb hidden by the snow.

He tried to move the car again, but the wheels spun.

‘Shit,’ he shouted. He turned to me.

‘Don’t move an inch, if you know what’s good for you.’

He got out of the car and went over to the front. He then kicked the wheel ¬ ¬ — as if that would help.

I tried my door handle; it was locked. He must have disabled it or something. I nearly swore then…

John went to the back of the car and opened the boot. He must have been looking for a shovel or something.

Without thinking, I moved over to the drivers seat, opened the door and ran for my life, not looking back.

I went as quickly as possible and because he concentrating on what was in the boot together with fact that he was constantly cursing to himself, meant that I had fifty yards on him by the time he realised that I had gone and had started after me.

My breath was coming in gasps as I tried to stay ahead of him, but he was big, strong and in condition, which he would be as he played rugby (legalised violence) on Sundays for the pub team.

Of course it happened, I slipped over on the icy ground and fell over. Luckily landing in a small pile of snow, so at least my fall had been broken and I hadn’t hurt myself.

I looked around and he was very close now, not more than twenty yards. I struggled to my feet and carried on running.

‘Fuck!’

I heard him and turned around. Unbelievably he had slipped on the same strip of ice as I had. How stupid can you get? I didn’t waste any more time, but carried on to try to get some distance between him and me.

I turned, or rather skidded around a corner. The snow was coming down thick and fast and my breathing was similar to that of an asthmatic sheep. Before I realised it, I was through an arch and then I found myself back in the churchyard. Looking up, through the curtain of descending snow, I could see the church up ahead. The whole building was still floodlit and next to the entrance, the bright Christmas tree looked really lovely. However I had no time for sight seeing as I needed to keep out of the clutches of my rather annoyed stepfather.

I glanced behind and he wasn’t in sight. If I hadn’t been a nice girl, I might have hoped that would at least have broken his leg. Knowing my luck, he probably hadn’t even been scratched. However, I wasn’t going to take any chances, so I hid behind a large statue of some long deceased signatory and awaited developments.

Just then the snow stopped again and the wind dropped. What was it about the weather in this place? It must be a meteorologist’s nightmare.

It was a good job that I did hide, as a few seconds later I could hear crunch of heavy footfall on the snow the heavy breathing of someone coming up the path.

I sneaked a quick look and then withdrew my head as I could see at a glance that it was John. He was limping badly and that was nice and probably explained why he wasn’t able to catch me up. He hadn’t broken his leg, but at least his fall had slowed him down a bit.

He was heading up the path towards the church, looking from right to left. He probably thought that I would go up to the church, being the only real shelter and I heard his footsteps heading that way. I took a chance and peaked around the statue again and this confirmed my suspicions.

My teeth started to chatter and I was shivering, not really dressed for the Siberian weather that was Penmarris after a snowstorm. My ear ached and I was not feeling quite right. I wondered if it ever got warmer there, but that was a daft thought as it was a seaside resort and people wouldn’t come if it were sub zero all the year round.

I pulled my coat more around my body. I was conscious that my long skirt and under that my tights were wet. I couldn’t stay out much longer without catching a chill or even hyperthermia.

I could hear footsteps again and slunk down as far as I could behind the statue, stopping breathing and trying my hardest not to be heard.

‘Little sod, just wait til I catch him,’ he mumbled as he past close by where I was hiding.

The steps went past me and few seconds later I sneaked a peek and could see the receding back of John as he limped out of the churchyard and carried on down the lane.

I waited a few moments, wondering what I should do. I had no choice, I had to get somewhere warm and I daren’t leave the church grounds until the coast was clear.

The church was still open. Perhaps I could go in there and wait a while and then try to make my way back to the B&B?

It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the only one I had. I just hoped that the place wasn’t closed…

I made a dash for the entrance and then opened the door.

‘Ooops,’ I thought as there in front of me was another congregation, much smaller than the carol service, but still a lot of people. Luckily, the organ had just started and this hid the sound of my rushed entrance.

I snuck into a pew at the back and tried to look inauspicious. At least it was warm in there. The hymn stopped and the vicar read a lesson. To be honest, I wasn’t in much of a condition to listen to him, as I was feeling a bit iffy.

Then I wondered whether John might return when he hadn’t been able to find me and I was frightened that he might come back and immediately see me sitting there.

The people all stood up to sing another hymn and I looked around for a better place to sit, out of the way of the entrance. It was funny, the music sounded a bit muffled and I assumed that it was the congealed blood in my ear.

Then I sneezed, but luckily, the sound was drowned out by the music.

The church had a main isle in the centre and beyond some large pillars, one on either side. I made my way to one side, well away from the entrance and sat behind one of the pillars. I was effectively out of sight of everyone and that suited me down to the ground.

I was now feeling rather hot and I took off my coat but I was still quite wet though and soon felt cold again and so I put it back on. The vicar was talking again and there were some responses from the congregation.

I felt a bit giddy, so I picked up one of those hassock thingies that they use as kneeling mats and used it as a pillow as I lay down on the pew, out of sight of everyone, hopefully.

Despite the sounds of another hymn echoing around the church, I closed my eyes and before I realised it, I was asleep.

You know when you are dreaming; it might be a nice one or there again it might be a nasty, horrible one. Well I think that I was having a nice dream, but I was awakened by a gentle touch on my shoulder and as soon as my eyes opened, I forgot all about it.

A lady was staring down at me.

I sat up quickly and wished I hadn’t as I was coming over all funny peculiar. I was light headed and my head ached.

‘Ouch,’ I said.

‘Hello dear, are you all right?’

‘Yes, sorry, I must have dropped off.’

‘My husband’s services sometimes have that affect. I’m Jocasta Gotobed and my husband is David, the vicar of this parish and the next one too.’

I looked wildly around me and noticed that the church seemed to be empty, except for us, of course.

‘Did I sleep through the service?’

‘I think so. It was a good job that I look around before we shut up shop for the night or you might have had to spend the night here.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise. But dear, you don’t look very well.’

She put her hand to my forehead and frowned.

‘Mm, you have a bit of a temperature and look a bit flushed. You aren’t local are you? I think I know everyone around here. Are you here for Christmas?’

‘Sort of.’ I said.

‘And where are your parents, dear?’

I looked at her and then for some unaccountable reason, I burst into tears.

‘Right, we can’t talk here. Come up to the vicarage and we’ll have a little chat.’

I wasn’t quite with it and it was almost as if I was in a dream as I was led out of the church along a path and then into a big house.

The vicar was in the hall and looked up from a paper he was reading. He looked questioningly at his wife.

‘It’s all right love; I will be in the study.’

He just nodded, gave me a smile and then continued reading. If he seemed surprised to see me, he didn’t show it.

I found myself I a room with book-lined walls and a cheerful log fire. It had several deep red leather armchairs and a chesterfield of the same colour. It was a nice cosy room.

‘Take a seat dear. Do you want some tea?’

‘Yes please,’ I replied realising that I was quite thirsty.

‘Won’t be a mo,’ she said as she left me to my thoughts.

My only thought at that time was whether I should tell her about what had happened to me. I was terribly worried that I would be handed back to John. I was still only fifteen and that meant that I was not allowed to do my own thing, as it were. Even at sixteen, it is difficult to manage without parental or state support.

I was of the opinion that I had little hope in my being believed over an adult, but I had to do what I could to convince her that I wasn’t telling lies. I was tired of running, being cold and feeling the way I felt at that moment.

She came back carrying a tray. She set the tray down on the coffee table.

‘Right, tea’s up; white or black?’

‘White please, one sugar.’

Soon I was sipping my tea and Jocasta was looking at me expectantly. I drank the tea down even though it was still rather hot. She had thoughtfully plied me with chocolate biscuits and as I was a sucker for chocky ones, I had two of those too.

I couldn’t put off the inevitable. I carefully placed the cup and saucer down on the tray and then looked at her.

‘Are you up to telling what is going on?’ she asked.

I took a deep breath and told her.

‘I…I’m not as I seem.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I’m a girl right?’

‘Of course.’

‘But, I…I was born a boy.’

I looked at her and tried to see if she was shocked or horrified, but she didn’t bat an eyelid. Vicars’ wives were obviously made of stern stuff!

I gulped and then continued, as she didn’t comment on what must have been a strange thing for me to say. Just a slight smile played around her lips and momentarily I wondered if inside she was laughing at me. Then I glanced at her eyes. They were kind eyes, not the eyes of someone who was judgemental.

‘As I say, I was born a boy but I have always considered myself as a girl. After making sure that this wasn’t just a phase, my parents supported me and to cut a long story short, they took me to various doctors and psychiatrists and I was diagnosed as being gender dysphoric, do you know what that is?’

She just nodded but said nothing, so with a mental shrug, I continued.

‘I was too young to have any operation and also it was advised that nothing should be done medically until I came close to puberty. I was so scared that I might start sprouting hairs and muscles and that my voice would break, but the doctors kept a close eye on me.

‘Then three years ago, my dad was killed by a hit and run driver and things were never the same for me or my mum.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Jocasta warmly.

This made me feel better as I hadn’t had much reaction from her and I was a bit happier to continue.

‘It took over two years for Mum to get over losing Dad and I felt the same way as I loved him so much and we had been a very happy family, despite the problems that I had caused due to my gender issues. Anyway, we muddled through and I continued to be monitored with the support of her and the medical people. Eventually, it was decided that I would be given pills to block male development and I have been taking them ever since. I wanted the operation, but because I was still growing and for legal reasons, I was told that I would have to wait until I was eighteen before I could have surgery.’

‘How old are you now?’

‘Fifteen,’

She looked surprised. I knew that I look a lot younger than that. She didn’t say anything and I continued.

‘Eventually, mum got close to her manager at work and they started going out together. He had two boys from a previous marriage and they were with him rather than the mother. Anyway, as I say, John and Mum got very close and they married and John and the boys moved in with us, as our house was a lot bigger than the rented one that they lived in and anyway, mum owned the house with no mortgage so it kind of made sense for them to live with us.’

‘Did his ex wife have access to the boys?’

‘Yes, but she moved away from the area and I have never seen her and as far as I know there hasn’t been any contact; why?’

‘Nothing; sorry to interrupt, carry on.’

‘John was nice to me. I liked him and he was very supportive of me. The boys didn’t have much to do with me and we didn’t have the same circle of friends. They went to another school so it was only in the holidays that we came together. They were okay, but I must admit that they looked at me strangely sometimes and I did wonder if John had told them to go easy on me.

‘I went to a school that was sympathetic to what I was going through and in the main I was reasonably happy. I missed my dad and I still do, but things seemed to settle down and I was okay. Then…then Mum had a growth in her breast and it was a nasty one. The doctors tried everything but it was a very aggressive form of breast cancer and she quickly wasted away and then d…d…died.’

I was sobbing by then and I found it hard to talk. Jocasta hugged me for a bit and I calmed down after a while and continued my story.

‘The funeral was awful and I try not to think of it. After that I noticed that John and the boys started to treat me differently. At first it was nothing you could put your finger on just the occasional comment, sly looks or nasty dig at me. Then it got to the stage when I felt like I was a visitor in my own home.

‘Things reached a head when John told me that I mustn’t dress as a girl any more and told me flat that he didn’t agree that I was a girl, but a boy with silly notions about being a girl. He made me change school to the boy’s one and I hated it. I had to wear boy’s clothes and was told to forget the nonsense about being a girl.’

“I thought that he was supportive of your gender.’ Jocasta said.

‘He was while Mum was alive, but when all this came to a head, he said that he went along with it for Mum’s sake and now she was gone, there was no need to continue with “this farce” as he put it.’

“Hypocrite,’ said Jocasta forcefully.

I smiled weakly and nodded, I was getting rather tired now and emotionally drained. Also my chest felt tight and I didn’t know how much longer I could continue without keeling over. I think that Jocasta could tell that I wasn’t feeling too great, so she stood up.

‘Enough for now; I’ll show you to your room and you can continue telling what happened later.’

‘But I need to tell you!’

‘You look all in dear. I have phoned our doctor and she is popping around as soon as she can tonight. I’m not happy with how you look and I want to make sure that you are okay. I think that it would be best for you to go to bed and then if you feel up to it, we’ll talk later, if not it can wait until tomorrow.’

‘You don’t understand, he’s after me.’

‘Who.’

‘John.’

‘He knows that you are here?’

‘Yes; that’s why I hid in the church. He found me and tried to drag me away, but I escaped and he’s out there looking for me now.’

‘How did he know that you would be here?’

‘Because of my Aunt?’

‘You have an aunt?’

‘Yes.’

‘And she lives here?’

‘Yes; it’s funny, she couldn’t come to Dad’s funeral because she was abroad but she didn’t come to Mum’s either and I would have expected her to at least contact me, but I haven’t had a word from her. I didn’t have her phone number or address because a lot of stuff of Mum’s was chucked away when she died.’

‘So this John thought that you might come and find your aunt.’

‘Yes, she’s my only living relative as far as I know and he must have realised that I would go to her.’

‘But you haven’t seen her much?’

‘No, we haven’t been in contact even before Dad died. I think that Mum and her used to write to each other, but why we didn’t visit her or the other way around, I don’t know. Mum never really spoke of her much, except that they were very close when they were young.’

‘So you came here hoping to find an aunt who you don’t know?’

It sounded a bit iffy the way she was saying it and thinking about it, she was probably right. But I didn’t know what else I could have done.

The doorbell rang. A dog barked and then I could here the sound of voices.

Seconds later the door opened and the vicar came in followed by a woman.

‘I’ll leave you ladies to it,’ he said vaguely, ‘sermon, tomorrow, Lady Fairbairn…mumble…mumble.’

The woman smiled at Jocasta.

‘He shouldn’t let Her Majesty get him down.’

‘You know David, where Lady F is concerned, he gets a bit flustered. ’

She turned to me.

‘Sorry dear, in all of this hoo haa I forgot to ask your name.’

‘Amy.’ I replied.

‘Marcia, this is Amy, I found her in the church and she doesn’t look very well. I thought that it might be a good idea if you give her the once over. With Amy’s permission, I will fill you in on the details later, but can you examine her?’

‘Of course; hello Amy.’

‘Hi,’ I said shyly.

‘Right, you need to get undressed, I’m afraid. Do you mind.’

I looked at Jocasta uncertainly.

‘Do you mind if I tell Marcia about your status?’ she asked.

I just nodded and looked down.

‘Amy is transgendered and had some serious family problems. I’ll tell you more later.’

‘That’s no prob dear,’ said the doctor turning to me, ‘you aren’t the only patient around here with gender issues and it would take something pretty remarkable for me to be shocked.’

‘Do you want me to leave you?’ asked Jocasta.

‘Please stay.’ I pleaded.

‘Okay, I’ll just go and tell David not to disturb us.’

With that she left the room and I turned my back on the doctor and started to get undressed. I was still wearing my coat, despite the cheerful fire and I slowly took it off whilst the doctor pulled things out of her medical bag.

A few seconds later, Jocasta came back and I had stripped to my bra and panties. Reluctantly, I took off my wig and placed it on the chair. Then I turned around and faced them.

They both had smiles on their faces that disappeared when they saw me.

‘Oh no, they are disgusted with me.’ I thought as tears started to slide down my cheeks.

‘How did that happen?’ asked the doctor pointing to the livid bruise on my arm and my badly hacked hair.

‘John did it.’

‘John?’

‘John is Amy’s step father.’

‘And that was why you were in the church?’

‘Yes, that and other things.’

‘Did he hurt your ear too?’

I then realised that my blood-soaked ear had been hidden by my long wig.

I nodded.

Jocasta quickly filled in the details of what had happened to me with the doctor and after a few minutes I was examined.

It was pretty thorough and it included photos’ being taken of the things that had been done to me and after cleaning my ear an examination of the damage there too.

‘Does your hearing sound muffled?’ asked the doctor.

‘Yes, a bit.’

‘Mmm, you have a perforated eardrum. It should heal itself, but you might get earache and a loss of hearing in that ear for a while. I’ll keep an eye on it and check you regularly.’

Soon, I was feeling shaky again and I was given a robe to put on and taken upstairs to a nice bedroom. I had already told Jocasta about where my things were at the Dun Roamin B&B and she promised to fetch my stuff the next day.

I had a quick shower and brushed my teeth, then was given a cotton nightie. Soon I was tucked up in bed. The doctor, who said that I only had a mild dose of flu, gave me some pills to take and promised to see me the following day.

Before she left she sat down on the bed.

‘Look Amy, you have been through a lot and the only real things that will make you feel better is rest and taking away the problems that are worrying you. I will have to tell the police about the assault on you, but our local policeman is a very nice man and very supportive. John, if he is still around will not have access to you and in fact will probably have to answer for his actions in court. You are safe here, so have a nice sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow. Jocasta, plenty of fluids and TLC; can you manage that?’

Jocasta laughed.

‘I think I might be able.’

‘Will my aunt be back tomorrow?’ I asked.

‘Your Aunt?’ asked Doctor Marcia.

‘Yes, I was told that she lived in place called Jellicle Cottage, funny name that. Anyway, I went up to her cottage and there was a note by the door. It said…erm,

Mrs P, gone to L.F’s for the night, as agreed, please feed the cats.
See you tomorrow.

Abby and Sam

Although I don’t know who this Sam is; maybe Auntie Abby’s husband?’

I saw a look of shock on their faces.

‘What?’ I asked.

---

To Be Continued…

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

 

Previously…

‘Will my aunt be back tomorrow?’ I asked.

‘Your Aunt?’ asked Doctor Marcia.

‘Yes, I was told that she lived in place called Jellicle Cottage, funny name that. Anyway, I went up to her cottage and there was a note by the door. It said…erm,

Mrs P, gone to L.F’s for the night, as agreed, please feed the cats.
See you tomorrow.

Abby and Sam

Although I don’t know who this Sam is; maybe Auntie Abby’s husband?’

I saw a look of shock on their faces.

‘What?’ I asked.

And now the story continues…

Jocasta and Doctor Marcia looked at each other. I couldn’t really read their expressions too well, but I think that they looked puzzled.

‘Sorry, do you know my Aunt?’

‘You are Abby Silverton’s niece?

‘Well, she probably thinks that I’m her nephew unless my mum told her about me.’

Jocasta had a far away look.

‘Come to think of it I think Abby did mention that she had a nephew, Andrew, I think…’

‘I’m Amy now.’ I said firmly.

‘Yes, I know dear, you don’t look much like an Andrew, do you?’

‘Look I had better go,’ said Doctor Marcia, ‘you, young lady, have been through a lot today and should go to sleep. I’ll call in tomorrow and see how you are getting on. I will need access to your medical records, but we can sort that out next week. Now get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

With a smile and a nod to me she left the room with Jocasta. I heard a whispered conversation outside and then the sound of the front door. Seconds later, Jocasta returned and sat on the bed beside me.

‘Okay Amy; I know both Abby and Sam very well, indeed we are friends as is Marcia. It’s a bit late for me to call Abby now, but I promise to let her know what is going on tomorrow. Now, as the doctor ordered, it’s bedtime for you. There is a nightie for you under the pillow, it’s one of the girl’s old ones. You will see them tomorrow. They’ll probably be up early to feed their horses before breakfast. I only hope that they don’t open their presents up before David and I get up, like last year!’

‘I’m spoiling your Christmas,’ I said.

‘No you are not, silly. What is Christmas about? Not presents really (but they are nice), but giving thanks and helping others. You are nice girl and have problems that are not of your making. Abby is a good friend and Samantha is too…’

‘Samantha?’ I queried.

‘Yes, Abby’s partner.’

‘Oh, I thought…’

‘That Sam was a man? She is anything but. She is nice, kind, a wonderful artist and maybe a bit daft sometimes, but we all love her as we do Abby. Now enough questions or Marcia will tell me off. You get some sleep and don’t worry about a thing.’

As I settled down in the nice warm, soft, comfortable bed, I thought that it was rather nice that I was kissed on my forehead. It had been a long time since that had happened!

I must have been tired, as I was out like a light in no time.

Being licked on the nose woke me up, rather suddenly.

I was still in shock from all that had happened to me on the previous day and that was my excuse when I screamed.

It was only when I opened my eyes that I realised that it was a dog. A large yellow labrador, to be exact. He was looking at me at close range and looked a bit put out that his friendliness had been responded to by my screaming.

There was a stampede in the hallway outside the bedroom, or at least that is what it sounded like, then there was a knock on the door, which was kind of pointless, as the door had obviously been opened by the ambidextrous canine.

'Are you decent?' said a disembodied voice.

''Yes, I think so,’ I said somewhat uncertainly.

Two girls rushed in and then stopped dead at the end of the bed. They were wearing jodhpurs and other riding gear.

One girl was taller than the other and started speaking at once.

'Hi, I'm Jennifer, but never call me that as I prefer Jen. The shrimp here is Phillipa...'

'I'm not a shrimp, Jen, don't be a beast. What happened to your hair?'

'Erm, my step-dad cut it off.'

'Wow, that’s nasty, unless you wanted a weird haircut.' said Jen.

'I didn't.' I replied.

'Mummy told us that you have some problems and that we mustn’t ask you any questions unless you want to tell us. Anyway, it's Crimbo and we have presents to open as soon as pos. Our ponies have just been fed and let out to the paddock, so they are okay for a while. Now it's our turn to have breakfast, go to church and then raid the Crimbo tree,' said Phillipa almost without taking a breath.

''Shut up Phil.'

'Don't you dare tell me to shut up Jen. I can speak if I want to...'

'Girls,'

I looked away from the sisters and saw that Jocasta was standing in the doorway.

They stopped, mid rant and then looked sheepish.

'Sorry Mummy,' they both mumbled.

'Scoot and take that flaming dog with you; I don’t know, slobbering all over the bed covers like that!'

With one last look at me and with grins on their faces, they went out of the room and dashed down the hallway, closely followed by an excitable dog.

'Walk, don’t run!' shouted Jocasta and the stamping of feet slowed, slightly.

She turned to me.

‘Sorry about that. They can be a bit, shall we say, enthusiastically boisterous at times. Anyway, Happy Christmas Amy. How are you feeling?’

‘Happy Christmas: better, thank you.’

‘Good, you have a bit more colour in your cheeks and you do seem to look better. Still, you need to take it easy this morning.’

‘Please don’t let me spoil your day.’

‘No danger of that. Anyway, do you feel well enough to get up?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘That’s good, because after breakfast you are going to have a visitor.’

‘The doctor?’

‘Yes, she’s coming later but I meant someone else.’

‘Who?’

‘Your Auntie Abby; I spoke to her first thing this morning and she was very surprised at what has happened to you…’

My heart filled with dread for some reason. What if when she saw me, she didn’t like me?

‘Does she know about me?’

‘Yes, I had a long chat with her. She’s dying to see you. She’s lovely and won’t be judgemental. Now as to your step-father, the police have been made aware that he is in the area and he is evidently known to them.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that at some point, he must have had some dealings with the police, though they won’t tell me what those dealings were. Anyway, as far as you are concerned, he won’t be able to try to take you away and it’s likely that he will be charged with assault on a minor, a very serious offence when they do finally catch up with him.’

‘What will happen to the boys?’

‘Your step-brothers?’

I nodded.

‘They will probably taken into care. To be honest, the way he treated you, it would be safer for them to be away from him.’

‘Oh,’ I said, not knowing what to say. They didn’t like me and vice versa, but I wouldn’t like to see them put in some sort of home. I didn’t have time to think any further as Jocasta continued.

‘Anyway, as I say, Abby will be here after breakfast and then you can have a nice quiet chat while we go to church. Are you up to having something to eat?’

I was feeling a bit hungry and just nodded.

‘Right, I haven’t had a chance to get your things from Dun Roamin yet, so I have a few things of Jen‘s that you can try out. If you go and have shower, I’ll sort out some clothes for you.’

‘To be honest, there isn’t much in my case. I was in a rush to leave home and anyway, John saw to it that most of my things were thrown out. Will Jen mind my using her clothes?’ I asked.

‘No, she has more clothes than Selfridges and can spare a few things.’

With that she left me to it and I got up and made my way to the bathroom. After stripping, I saw that the bruise on my arm was now multi coloured and still painful to touch. Looking at my naked body, apart from the horrible thing between my legs, I look similar to a prepubescent girl; although my breasts were slight puffy, a by-product of the pills that I had been taking. I yearned for the time I would be able to take feminising drugs and then hopefully SRS. All I was allowed at the moment, because of my age were blockers and it wasn’t enough, as I dearly wanted to not only be a girl mentally, but physically too.

It seemed so unfair that girls like me had to wait until adulthood before being able to live fully as we should in the correct gender.

Anyway, I was being a Dolly Daydreamer so I stepped into the cubicle and had a shower. I washed my hair too and it was awful because the short ragged cut just reminded me of what I had lost. It was nice that Jen and Phillipa didn’t seem bothered by the state of my hair. They seemed like nice girls…

I turned the shower off, dried my hair and body and then put on the silk robe that had been hanging on the back of the door.

Walking back into the bedroom I saw that Jocasta was there sorting through several items of clothes.

‘Hi dear; here are some things that you might want to wear. I’ll leave you to decide. There’s a new pack of knickers and a training bra that Jen never used there too. Not too dressy this morning. Oh, by the way, breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes and if you want eggs and bacon you had better hurry as those girls are gannets!’

With a smile she left me to it and I quickly sorted out what I should wear.

I tried everything on and in the end chose a white peasant style top with three quarter length sleeves and a long blue denim skirt that went down to my ankles. I liked long skirts, I know that short skirts were the fashion, but I liked what I liked, if you know what I mean. Anyway, it warmer in the winter to wear long rather than mini skirts!

After putting on the bra, I smiled, as it had been some time since I was allowed to wear one. The panties I chose were blue and silky to touch. Then I put on some black woollen rib style tights from a brand new packet, pulled up my skirt and zipped it up at the back and finally slipped on some shoes — flats, that were shiny, black and very comfortable, if a tiny bit loose.

My wig was on a stand over in the corner and I carefully put it on and brushed it out. I didn’t have any makeup with me and I felt a bit naked when presenting as a girl without makeup, but I would just have to make do until my things were brought back from Dun Roamin.

I gave myself the final once over, hoped that I looked okay and then left the room.

As soon as I reached the hallway, I could smell bacon wafting up the stairs.

My mouth was watering as I went downstairs and made my way to the kitchen.

Sitting at the kitchen table were Jen and Phillipa, whilst Jocasta was over by the cooker. The cooking smells were mouth watering and I was looking forward to having a nice, filling breakfast.

Under the table was the Labrador, looking ever hopefully for titbits.

‘Hi Amy, you look pretty today,’ said Jen.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled as I sat down opposite the girls. I still wasn’t used to compliments.

‘David is sorting out his Christmas sermon,’ said Jocasta, stirring something in a saucepan, ‘he’s had breakfast already. The girls and I are going over to the church after breakfast. I’m not sure how Lady F will react when she sees the guitar and tambourine players…’

‘And then, after that, it’s pressie time,’ interrupted Phillipa enthusiastically.

‘Whoopee!’ said Jen, for once agreeing with her sister.

Jocasta shook her head.

‘I swear that they aren’t mine. They must have been swapped with my real children when I was in hospital. I hoped for some nice, good girls and look what I got?’

I giggled and the girls tried to look innocent and failed miserably.

Soon I was presented with a plate that had bacon, eggs, sausage, tomato, grilled mushrooms and toast piled on it.

‘I can’t eat all this.’ I said.

‘There’s nothing of you. You need some good wholesome food in you to get some meat on your bones.’

I noticed that the others had similar amounts on their plates, so I decided not to argue but make the best of it by eating as much as I could.

Sandy, the lab had a fair share of food too as things mysteriously got dropped on the floor and she did a very creditable impersonation of a Hoover.

Surprisingly, I finished the meal without leaving anything on the plate and I wasn’t the only one. Penmarris and the sea air must have special qualities that made people (and dogs) consume huge meals without gaining much weight.

‘Right girls, upstairs and get changed for church. You can go in the sitting room and rest for bit Amy.’

‘Should I go to church too?’ I asked, not knowing if it was expected of me as, after all, I had been sleeping under the vicarage roof.

‘No, you are excused today and anyway, your special visitor will be arriving soon and you don’t want to miss her, do you?’

‘No,’ I replied, uncertainly. I was still worried at what my auntie might think of me.

I think that Jocasta read my mind as she stopped for a moment and looked at me.

‘You are still worried aren’t you?’

I nodded.

‘Well don’t. She is a lovely person and doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Look I have to dash as I need to check the flower arrangements in the church before Lady F gets there and starts criticising; I’ll see you later.‘

Minutes later, the girls came rushing down the stairs, followed more slowly by Jocasta.

I could hear a faint ‘goodbye,’ and the slamming of the front door and then I was alone (apart from a snoring Sandy) in the sitting room with my thoughts.

The room was nicely decorated with the tree in the corner, all lit up and the colourful wall and ceiling decorations all added the festive feel. Then there was the log fire, which was cosy and warm. Sandy was lying in front of the fire, fast asleep with her legs kicking slightly; she must have been doggie dreaming. Outside it was still snowing gently, covering the trees and plants in a blanket of festive white.

All was quiet, and I could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall and the crackling of the logs in the grate…

The front door bell went off, waking me from my semi-slumber.

My heart was beating loudly, as I stood up, smoothed down my skirt, checked my hair in the mirror over the fire place and then, with heels clicking on the parquet floor, made my way out of the sitting room, along the hallway to the front door.

Behind the frosted glass I could see her reflection. I took a deep breath and then, with heart in mouth, I opened the door.

She smiled at me and I smiled back.

All my fears of being rejected melted away.

She opened her arms and I ran into them.

We were both crying; it was a lovely moment.

It seemed like ages as we stood there in each other’s arms. This was the first real loving moment that I had had in such a long time. I had been starved of love for
so long and now, I just knew that everything was going to be okay.

Somehow we found ourselves back in the cheery sitting room and Sandy stopped making a fuss and returned to her dream by the fire. My aunt and I sat on the deep leather sofa, holding hands and looking at each other.

‘Well Amy, this was a nice surprise to see you at long last,’ said Abby, ‘Jo has told me all that has happened and I feel terrible that I wasn’t around to help and support you.’

‘I didn’t know where else to go. You are my only living relative…’

‘Actually, that isn’t true. There is Great Aunt Celia, who lives in Scotland and various first and second cousins, uncles and aunts sprinkled about here and there. Don’t worry, you aren’t alone.

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I didn’t know.’

“Never mind that, well talk about what rellies you have later. We need to talk about what has happened to you and where we go from here. I know that I have heard a lot about what has happened to you, sort of second hand. Can you tell me about it yourself?’

I took a deep breath and recounted all that had happened. It was hard and I had to stop several times, but eventually, she knew everything.

My Aunt was quiet for a moment and then said, ‘fancy a cuppa?’

I nodded. All the talking and crying had made me feel very thirsty.

She left me and I just stared at the fire. It had been lovely meeting her and sharing my problems. There was so much I wanted to ask her, not least about why she had not been in contact after Mum died, but I didn’t want to start our relationship with my criticising her and anyway, it might not be justified, as I didn’t know her side of the story.

Looking outside, the snow had started to get quite heavy, on a branch I saw a red robin looking at me and putting it’s head to one side, as if to say, who are you looking at?

A few minutes later Auntie Abby came back in with a tray. On the tray was a pot of tea, two mugs and mixture of biscuits.

‘Here we are. I know Jo’s kitchen almost as well as mine. Anyway; black or white?’

‘White with one sugar please.’

‘Thanks,’ I said as she gave me the tea and then offered me a hobnob biscuit.

I took one and without thinking dunked it in the tea.

There was a moment’s silence and then I looked up at her. She was dunking too!

We saw what we were both doing and then burst into laughter.

‘It must be a thing in the genes,’ laughed Abby.

‘I’m wearing a skirt, not jeans.’ I said and that started us off again.

Soon there was a companionable silence. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by bringing up thing that was most on my mind. Then I looked up as Auntie Abby spoke.

‘Amy, you have been through hell and back and I so wish that I had been aware of what had been going on.’

‘Why didn’t you get in touch after Mum died?’ I asked, plucking nervously at the hem of my blouse.

She was quiet for a moment and I could see that she was gathering her thoughts.

‘The first I had heard that your mum had died was after the funeral. John had told me nothing and it was only after your mum’s solicitor contacted me about the will that I knew anything about it.

‘I tried to get in touch with John, but he never returned my calls or letters. I did receive a letter from him eventually and I’ve brought it to show you.’

She fished an envelope out of her bag and handed it to me.

‘Please read it,’ she said.

Dear Ms Silverton,

I have been informed by the solicitor that you wish to make contact with us. I was aware of the messages that you have left and also I read the letters that you have sent to me.

In my time of grief, the last thing I want is for you to have anything to do with my family. Andrew is just getting over the loss of his mother and I am trying to move forward and help him to forget his past.

I am aware of your, shall we say, sexual preferences and I do not approve of them. Andrew has issues as it is and I do not want any undue influence put on him by your choice of lifestyle.

If you write or call again, I will go to the courts to arrange for an order forbidding any form of contact from you and please be assured that I fully intend to do this if provoked to take action.

Please do not contact us again unless you wish the full force of the law to come down on you.

Yours etc.
John Barnes

I looked up at her; she had tears in her eyes.

‘I swear that I didn’t know about this.’

‘I realise that,’ she said.

‘That explains a lot, but what happened between Mum and you. Did you row?’

She picked up her mug and drained it, then after placing it carefully back on the tray, she took a deep breath and looked at me.

‘I need to tell you things that might hurt you and make you think less of me. I am not proud of myself, but you need to know the facts. Are you prepared to know what happened?’

‘I need to know.’

She nodded and then looked at the fire. Speaking quietly, so quietly that I had to lean forward to catch everything she said; she told me what had happened.

‘We were very close when we were young and it didn’t matter that I was then thought to be a boy; we still enjoyed playing and being together. Then we grew apart as she was a year older and she started to go out with her friends more and I did the same with mine, although I was never as popular as her and only had a few people that I could loosely call friends. You look shocked that I was ever a boy?’

‘Sorry.’ I replied, ‘I had no idea.’

‘Pity, maybe you should have been told; still, water under the bridge and all that. Anyway, when I was thirteen, instead of developing muscles, sprouting hair and my voice breaking, I started to develop breasts and girly curves. I had always been quite gentle as a child and I wasn’t into boys’ games or playing rough so suppose that might have been an indicator that things were not what is laughingly called normal. I was told at the time that I would grow out of it. I liked the arts and it was at about that time that my love of pottery started when I joined the pottery club at my school and that shaped the career that would chose.

‘It may seem like I’m going off at tangent here, but bear with me as it’s all connected. Your mum by that time was a very pretty girl and was well liked by everyone at school. I suppose that we sort of drifted even further apart as the age difference became more marked.

‘Shortly after my fourteenth birthday, the changes in my body became even more apparent and it could not just be put down to a hormonal imbalance. My breasts started to develop and I was getting a decidedly feminine shape. It was then after a whole load of tests that I was diagnosed as being inter-sexed and it was realised that I was a lot more girl than boy and was, in fact, under everything, a fully functioning female. After being asked what I wanted, it was decided that I would have a set of operations to correct the problems with my body and get rid of the useless boy bits. There’s a lot more technical stuff involved, but the gist of it was, after the operations, I was now considered to be an official girl.

‘One of the good things about my new situation was that your mum and I grew closer again. This carried on until we went to university; Mary had a gap year so we started uni together and seriously got into boys. Well with me it was slightly different, because as I soon realised that I was bi-sexual I had flings and one night stands with men and women but I was hormonal and emotional and not quite as sensible as I should have been. Mary tried to warn me, but, of course, at that age, I was never wrong. I wasn’t proud of the fact that I was playing the field, but I just couldn’t stop myself.

‘Then your father, Simon came onto the scene and I suppose we both fell in love with him at the same time. But, I was the first one to go out with him and it was only after I introduced him to Mary that he sort of said, sorry to me and then went off with her.

‘Don’t get me wrong, Simon was a lovely man and he did nothing behind my back. He told me straight that he was in love with your mum. I don’t know whether the fact that I was bisexual and had been with many other people in a short space of time might have influenced his decision, but anyway, his mind was made up and your father had a very strong mind. However, I took it all wrong and started to feel resentment against both your mum and dad.

‘I blame the hormones; I was always a bit emotional and had a short fuse when I was younger. Remember, I came to girlhood later in life than most girls and I lacked the skills to deal with the situation. In many ways Mary was more grown up than me.

‘I took their relationship very badly. I withdrew into myself and concentrated on my studies. I never bothered going home during vacations and I found a new set of friends. I tried to find happiness elsewhere, but all attempts at love with men and women fell on stony ground.‘

‘So you hated my mum?’

She paused for a moment and then shook her head.

‘I could never hate Mary. I did hate what I thought that she had done to me, although, in fact, she had done nothing. It was my feelings toward Simon that poisoned me, although, in reality, Simon was a lovely, caring man. I suppose it was the big, bug eyed monster called jealousy combined with my hormones and my silly mixed up head that caused all the problems.

‘I didn’t go to the wedding and that was stupid of me. Then I heard that you had been born and I sort of tentatively got back in contact with them, but I still had issues with the relationship and couldn’t or rather wouldn’t visit.’

‘I wish that I could roll the clock back and change things but I can’t. I was under a psychiatrist for a long time over my issues and for a while I was a mess. Anyway, about three and a half years ago, I met Mary in London; Oxford Street to be precise. You were at home with Simon. It was thought best that you stay out of it until we sorted out our problems.

‘As soon as we saw each other, we hugged and cried. People in the street were probably thinking that we were two loopy women, but we didn’t care. It was nice and as if there hadn’t been any barrier between us. I kept apologising and she kept telling me to forget it.’

‘So you made up then?’

‘Yes, it was lovely.’

‘That’s funny, neither Mum nor Dad told me any of this. They said that you weren’t in touch much because you were always busy and going abroad.’

‘I was, I suppose. I was trying to get ideas for designs. I went to Mexico and South America, then Europe and Asia. I was all over the place. Ideally, I wanted to be able to bring home some ideas and then design and craft some pottery that I could exhibit and sell. I think that they didn’t say anything to you because they wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to go all-strange again and start causing trouble. They were very protective of you and seeing you, I can see why.‘

I blushed and then smiled at that. Compliments had been thin on the ground for me lately.

‘I was abroad when I heard about Simon’s death and always regretted that I had not really made my peace with him. I was more upset than I had ever been before when he died, because I always had a place in my heart for him.

‘Although I kept in touch with your mum after Simon’s death, we didn’t have a chance to meet up. I was always keen on having news of how both of you were getting on, but work for both of us and other things got in the way and I wasn’t able to visit. The last time I contacted your mum, she told me that there was something important that she wanted to tell me about you, but didn’t want to discuss it over the phone. She also wanted you to meet me at long last, but had to tell me what the situation was before we met. That intrigued me, but I had to wait and see what was going on. I promised that as soon as I returned from a trip to Brazil, I would meet up with her.‘

‘Did you?’

‘No, when I returned, it was a few months later and she had died. The cruel thing was that John never contacted me. I had left my forwarding address and I of course had my mobile phone, but he never contacted me and when I found out what had happened via the solicitor and then received that cold and nasty letter, it was awful and I fell apart for a while.’

‘I hate John,’ I said with venom.

‘Me too; I cannot understand why he didn’t have the decency to contact me. I was devastated and I threw myself into my work. I bought the pottery and the building next door to it and did all that I could to make a go of my new business. I was also looking after a lot of cats that I sort of adopted after the previous owner of Jellicle Cottage died and gave the place to me.

‘I worked all hours and immersed myself in the business, trying to forget my past and make a go of the future, but my heart was empty.

‘Then Samantha walked into my life, helped to heal my wounds and I have never been happier. I told her everything and she wasn’t judgemental but helped and supported me. In fact, at her urging, we have consulted Katie, our solicitor, to try to find out if I could have access to you and what rights if any that I had bearing in mind the fact that I had been warned off contacting you, but then you came here to find me and that makes me happier than I can say.’

We hugged in silence, our tears mingling. I understood everything now and I was so happy that I had decided to come to Penmarris to find her.

‘So you had no idea that I was a girl?’ I said.

‘No; Mary did mention that you had issues, but I didn’t have any sort of inkling that you weren’t a boy at all, but a pretty girl. Do you hate me?’

I looked at her kind face and could never hate her for what had happened. It would have been nice if all those things had not occurred and resulted in putting a wedge between her and my parents for a long time, but life isn’t simple, as I had learnt to my cost.

I embraced her once again and had a bit of a cry. It was so nice to have someone to love me as I was and not think that I was a freak.

Shortly after, the front door bell rang.

I was still in a bit of a state, so Auntie Abby answered the door

A few moments later Doctor Marcia came in and saw my face.

‘Are you okay?‘ she asked with concern in her voice.

I laughed through my tears.

‘I’m fine,’ I said.

‘Mmm,’ she said uncertainly and then proceeded to check me over.

‘You’ll do; your high temperature has gone down and your chest sounds fairly clear. Oh to be young again,’ she said smiling, ‘is your ear still hurting?’

‘A bit,’

‘Come and see me in the surgery on the 27th unless it gets worse. Keep taking the tablets. They are only painkillers, but they should take the edge off any pain that you might have. You can go out if you want, but wrap up warm, put some fresh cotton wool in your ear and don’t overdo it. Right, I must be off. Hubby is taking me out for Christmas dinner at some posh place. He won’t tell me where, but I’ll brain him if it’s the chippy!’

After the Doctor had gone my aunt looked at me.

‘Fancy going for a slow walk down to the quay to blow out the cobwebs? I’ll show you my pottery and then maybe we can meet up with the others after.’

‘Others?’

‘Oh you have a nice big family now. There’s me and Sam, of course and then young Heather and little Gabrielle, not forgetting Hannah who came to us last Christmas and is now part of the family too.‘

‘Is Hannah a baby?’

‘No, she’s fourteen now and has quite a story to tell you, but I’ll leave that for her. Did you want to go out then?’

‘But what about John?’

‘Oh, he must be miles away. As soon as you got to safety, he would assume that you would have told your story and anyway, the police are on the lookout for him now and he’s probably miles away. So do you fancy a walk?’

‘Please.’

‘That’s good. Jo has left some warm things for you to put on in case you did want to go for a walk. They are out in the hall.‘

On a seat by the phone was a long coat, woolly hat, gloves and boots, so I shouldn’t get too cold. Jocasta had thought of everything. I didn’t have jeans as they were still in my case at Dun Roamin and the ones of Jen‘s I tried on didn’t fit me; still the denim skirt was long and thick, as were the tights and I didn’t think that I would get too cold.

After leaving a note on the hallstand, we let ourselves out and started walking down to the quay. It had stopped snowing and the snow was crunchy underneath. Everywhere was covered in white; it appeared that it was unusual for there to be so much snow in the winter around the Penmarris area but maybe due to global warming, it had been the second Christmas running where substantial amounts of snow had fallen.

‘It’s so pretty.’ I said.

‘Yes, I love it here. All the seasons are special.’

I looked at her. She was so pretty and I could see my mother in her. I hesitated for a moment and then asked the question that had been on the tip of my tongue for a while.

‘Auntie?’

‘Yes love?’

‘D…do you mind that I’m a girl and not a boy, and…and will you mind if I stay with you for a while?’

She stopped and turned towards me and smiled. The same smile that Mum gave me…

‘Darling, I love you as you are. Even if you had been a boy, it wouldn’t have made a jot of difference. I love the person inside and if the packaging has changed, so what? Anyway, you are a very pretty girl with a lovely personality and I would love it if you come and live with us. Sam has already said the same too.’

‘She doesn’t know me.’

‘That doesn’t matter. You are family and we will always help family, if asked.’

That left me with a squishy feeling in my tummy and a wee bit emotional, but I had no time to think as Auntie Abby took my hand and we walk down to the quay.

After a minute or two, her phone went off and she answered it.

‘Hello? Oh hi Mummy Dottie…yes, yes, okay.’

She handed me the phone.

‘Dottie Fairbairn wants a word. Her bark‘s worse than her bite,‘ she whispered.

‘H…hello?’

‘I heard that comment from young Abby; thinks I’m deaf but I can hear a mole fart at fifty paces. Anyway, you are Amy, I take it?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Good manners, like that. Not like yer normal young gel, cheek‘s the daylights out of old codgers like me. Now, I heard from the vicar that you are down here to see yer aunt?’

‘Y…yes.’

‘And yer slime ball of a step-father is playin up rough?’

‘Erm, that’s right.’

‘Sounds more like a bloody pantomime to me, with him bein the bad guy yer have ter boo and hiss at. Anyway, were you the gel with the decent singing voice?’

‘I can sing a bit.’

‘Good, we need all the talent we can get for the choir. Consider yerself roped in.’

I jumped slightly as I heard the sound of gunfire coming down the phone.

‘Missed the bugger,’ continued Lady Fairbairn, sounding slightly breathless, anyway, I’ll see yer tonight.’

With that, the phone went dead.

I handed the phone over and asked, ‘is she, erm, right in head?’

‘She’s sharper than you and me put together.‘

‘Oh,’ I replied, ‘well, anyway, she mentioned something about seeing her tonight.’

‘Oh yes, if you feel up to it, we will go and have supper with her.’

‘Oh.’ I said doubtfully.

‘She won’t bite and you’ll love Fifi the Labradoodle,’

‘Labrawhat?’

‘Labradoodle, a cross between a labrador and a poodle.’

As we carried on walking and nodded to passers by, everyone seemed to know my aunt and, disturbingly me too!

It all seemed like a dream as just a few short hours ago, I had no one and now I had a family again and people who cared for me. Even strangers were being nice to me!

What more could I ask for?

Soon we found ourselves on the sea front. The beach stretched away to the left and I could see the waves lapping gently on the shoreline. There was only one couple on the beach and they were throwing a ball for an energetic little dog. We walked along to the quay and then to my aunt’s pottery. She took the keys out of her bag and let us in.

‘Here we are,’ she said, ‘what do you think?’

It was lovely; an Aladdin’s cave of pottery, with brightly painted pots, plates, cups and saucers, figurines and other lovely items, all of which I would have loved to touch, but was terrified to do so in case I broke something.

‘It’s all wonderful!‘ I said enthusiastically.

‘Maybe I can teach you to throw pots?’ she said.

‘Wow, could you, that would be ace, Auntie!’

We were looking at an intricately patterned vase when the door opened with a ping from the bell over the door.

‘Sorry, we’re closed. We will be open the day after Boxing Day,’ said Auntie without looking up.

‘Well, this looks nice and cosy. Here are the two freaks together.‘

We turned around and there he was; a sneer on his unshaven face and a tyre lever in his hand.

‘I warned you not to get anywhere near Andy and here you are, together. You both need to be taught a lesson and I’m the one to do it.’

He came forward menacingly and the look in his eyes showed that he was not all there.

---

To Be Continued…

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

 

Previously…

We were looking at an intricately patterned vase when the door opened with a ping from the bell over the door.

‘Sorry, we’re closed. We will be open the day after Boxing Day,’ said Auntie without looking up.

‘Well, this looks nice and cosy. Here are the two freaks together.‘

We turned around and there he was; a sneer on his unshaven face and a tyre lever in his hand.

‘I warned you not to get anywhere near Andy and here you are, together. You both need to be taught a lesson and I’m the one to do it.’

He came forward menacingly and the look in his eyes showed that he was not all there.

And now the story continues…

‘What do you want John,’ enquired Auntie Abby with an edge to her voice.

‘I see that you are still dressing as a woman. A freak like you should stay hidden like Andrew. You should have stayed a boy. You were born that way and no amount of cosmetic surgery is going to change that fact.’

He looked at a vase that was on a plinth. It was beautiful, aqua blue in colour and spotlighted from above. Without warning, he threw out his arm and with the tyre lever; he smashed it into thousands of pieces.

By this time, I was terrified. He was a big man and I had seen what he was capable of. Why had Mum married him? Was he nice to her or was it all an act?

‘Oop’s, silly me.’ he said with a sly grin.

‘Get out now.’ said my aunt with a calm voice that I could only marvel at.

He carried on as if she had not spoken.

‘So, Andrew ran to you, did he? I suppose that birds of a feather stick together. Did I ever tell you Andy that you look really silly in a dress?

‘My name is Amy and I am not Andy and if I do look silly in a dress, I would rather that than wear boys clothes and not be true to myself.’

‘”True to myself”’ mocked John. ‘Listen to you; the shrinks have brain washed you into believing that you are anything other than a boy. You have dick and balls, don’t you? You can’t have a baby, even if you have the fucking thing cut off. What’s the point eh? Now Andrew, you are coming with me and if you try and stop me Abby, I will make a mess of your perverted, painted face. Do you get me?’

All the time we had been backing up as he advanced, threateningly waving about the long metal bar. Auntie Abby had made sure that I was slightly behind her.

As he passed a shelf full of gaily painted pottery, He swept the tyre lever across the shelf and it all came crashing down on the polished wooden flooring, making a terrific noise.

‘Enough,’ shouted Auntie, ‘what the hell do you want?’

‘That’s a bit more reasonable,’ he said, ‘all I want is for Andy to come home and retract all the lies he has said about me.’

‘I’ve not told you any lies,’ I shouted.

‘I believe her,’ said Auntie.

‘Did Andy tell you that he hit his brother? Did he say that when I tried to restrain him, he got all stroppy and hit me too? Did he say that I cut his hair when he did it himself, just because he couldn’t get his way about dressing like a sissy fag?’

‘You liar!’ I screamed, ‘you did all this to me because I didn’t want to go along with you. I am a girl not a boy…’

‘Amy, be quiet,’ said Auntie Abby, ‘shouting will not help.’

She turned to John and said, ‘why do you want her to come back with you,’

‘What?’

‘You heard; why are you so keen for her to go back with you? You don’t love her or even like her, that’s obvious, so I repeat, why do you want her to come back with you?’

John still gripped the tyre lever and looked like he was dying to use it.

‘I want him back, because he belongs at home and I have parental responsibility for him. For too long he has got his own way and now he has to do what I tell him.’

‘She is not going anywhere and if you don’t leave now, I’ll call the police.’

‘The police, that’s a laugh. They don’t like getting involved with domestics.’

‘They are involved and are looking for you. I am surprised that you were stupid enough to come here.’

‘I have done nothing wrong.’

‘So the fact that you perforated her ear drum, gave her extensive bruises on the arm and hacked off her hair is your definition of doing nothing wrong is it?’

John had been doing a very good impression of a pressure cooker about to explode and those words set him off, violently.

He started smashing more things.

Suddenly Auntie Abby, who I think might have a bit of a temper herself when roused, threw a pot at his head and it hit him on the temple. That stopped him for a second as he shook his head and then he came for us, roaring like a madman.

The look in his eyes showed that he wanted to cause us grievous bodily harm but my aunt was of sterner stuff. She just waited for him to come up and when he swung the bar at her face, it wasn’t there as she ducked under the killer swipe and then with great presence of mind, she kneed him in the groin.

He dropped the tyre lever and clutched at his crown jewels and his eyes sort of crossed.

Auntie Abby with great presence of mind; grabbed the tyre lever and stood over him. I wondered if she was going to brain him, but all she said was ‘Get out now, or else.’

Then he said a few naughty words, threw a couple of insults at us and then, limping and bending slightly, he turned and fled.

Of course for me, reaction kicked in and I burst into tears.

‘Why doesn’t he leave me alone?’

‘Because he’s a bully and he want to get his own way. Well we won’t let him will we?’

‘No,’ I sniffed.

She picked up her mobile phone.

‘Hi, Terry, look that slime ball John Barnes has just threatened us in my own pottery and ran wild with an iron bar. I thought that you were after him?’

‘All right, I know it’s Christmas, but the man is a bloody danger. He nearly killed us, or would have if I had let him. He’s just left the pottery….okay, thanks; love to Mary,’

She put her phone down and then looked at me. I was still doing my young girl upset routine and it seemed that I now cried at the least thing. Mind you, John’s antics were enough to make a saint cry.

‘Don’t worry honey, he’s gone. That was the local Bobby (policeman) I spoke to. He’s a good lad, but the problem is that it’s Christmas and evidently, crime stops at Christmas so that there is a skeleton staff. It’s not like this area has much in the way of crime. It’s not like Bodmin…’

‘What’s wrong with Bodmin?’

‘Don’t ask. Anyway, its high time we went home.’

‘H…he won’t come back, will he?’

‘Not if knows what’s good for him,’ said my Aunt, picking up the tyre lever and flourishing it dramatically.

‘We need to tidy up.’ I said, looking around at the carnage.

‘Leave it, it’ll still be here tomorrow.’

‘I’m sorry I caused all this,’ I said.

‘You didn’t, he did and anyway, nobody messes wid my sisters kid,’ she said in a poor imitation of a Bronx accent.

I giggled, feeling a bit better.

‘I didn’t know you spoke Welsh,’ I said, tongue in cheek.

‘Stupid girl.’ She replied giggling.

As we left the pottery, I looked around nervously, wondering where John had got to, then in the distance I saw his car heading out of the quay car park and going up the hill leading out of the village. It was easy to see and recognise his car, as it couldn’t go too fast on the still icy and snowy road.

‘There’s John,’ I said, pointing.

‘Good riddance,’ she said, ‘the police have his car reg number and description, so they will catch him soon enough. Now lets go home, I’m in need of a couple of mince pies and a nice warming medicinal glass of mulled wine.’

We walked as fast as the conditions allowed, but my attention was drawn by a loud, foghorn noise coming from out to sea. Glancing over, I saw this huge yacht coming through the harbour entrance. It dwarfed everything else and I did wonder if it was too big to fit in.

‘Wow, that’s big. I wonder what it’s doing here. It looks like it should be in Cannes or St Tropez or some other posh, jet set type place.’

‘Oh, it’s often here, you could say that Penmarris is it’s home.’

‘You must have some seriously rich people living here.’

‘You could say that,’ she replied with a funny smile on her face.

We walked up the hill and stopped outside Dun Roamin.

‘Jo said that your stuff is still here, shall we pick it up?’

‘Okay.’

She went up the steps and rang the bell.

A few seconds later the door was opened and the cheery face (not) of the B&B owner appeared.

‘Ah, Mrs Potts; Happy Christmas,’ said Auntie happily.

‘If you say so,’ she sniffed.

‘Young Amy here wants to pick up her things, she’s staying with me.’

‘No refunds.’ said the landlady promptly and with practiced ease.

‘That’s all right. I would hate to see you deprived of your payment.’

‘Best come-along in then.’

She motioned with her arm and we soon found ourselves in the cheerless hallway.

‘Do you want to nip up to your room and get your things? Asked my aunt.

‘Okay.’ I replied and then went upstairs, glad to get away from the stony glances of mine host.

I quickly put my things together and found my way back downstairs. Ma Potts was in, for her, an animated discussion about her piles and bunions and how the doctor was puzzled about the state of her bowels. She seemed to be happier than I had seen her before, but I must admit that Auntie didn’t look too thrilled about the conversation.

With a hurried goodbye we left her mid explanation about her bowel movements and carried on up the hill.

‘Sam should be back from church now with the kids.’

‘Is she alright with me coming?’

‘Of course, she’s dying to meet you. I haven’t many rellies, and she wants to know if my madness runs in the family.’

I think that she was joking and just giggled nervously.

As the weather had improved and the sun was shining, some hardy souls were now out and about. Some children had toboggans, dustbin lids and other improvised modes of transport and were flying down the hill in the park and making a great deal of noise. The church bells were ringing some sort of festive ding-dong that was very in keeping with the season.

Many people who all seemed to know my Aunt and several who knew me by name too passed us. The jungle drums and village grapevine were obviously alive and kicking in Penmarris.

From the gaily painted houses came the sounds of music and laughter and the heady smells of Christmas cooking. I recognised, bacon, roasting meat, baked bread, cinnamon and many other smells that made my mouth water and realise that I hadn’t eaten anything for ages.

‘Hungry?’ asked my aunt.

I nodded.

‘Me too, lets hurry up and get home.’

Jellicle Cottage looked lovely and welcoming. There were lights around the door and windows. Outside the trees had many twinkling lights that looked lovely now and would look even better when it got dark.

Auntie Abby opened the door and shouted ‘we’re home!’

A few cats dashed out of the door and then as I followed her in, I was stopped by a sight of someone coming out of a side room.

She was pretty, about my mum’s age and had a smudge of flour on her nose and an apron over her dress. I instantly recognised her from the church. She had a happy smile on her face. Behind her was a very young child, hanging onto her legs and peeping out.

‘Goo goo, cat, mama’ said the girl.

‘Hi Amy,’ said Samantha.

‘Hi,’ I replied shyly.

‘Come here and give me a Christmas hug then.’

She opened her arms and I went over to her and was embraced warmly.

I went all mushy when she whispered in my ear, ‘welcome home honey.’

~*~

Just then, there was a slam of a door upstairs, a baby started to cry and I could hear the clatter of feet hurrying downstairs.

‘Is she here then?’ asked the voice coming down and then she was there, looking at me intently.

She looked a bit older than me, but I knew that she was in fact younger. I took this to be Hannah. She was pretty, with long blond hair and a sunny smile.

‘Hi Amy, Happy Xmas.’

‘Erm Happy Xmas to you too.’ I replied.

‘Hannah, you have woken up Gabrielle again, I have just put her down. She’ll be all ratty now at lunch time and if she is, you will have to deal with it.’

‘Sorry Mummy,’ she said in a voice that frankly didn’t seem too sorry.

‘Anna huggle,’ said the little girl holding out arms.

‘Alright Heather, come to Hannah,’

Hannah opened her arms and Heather let go of Samantha and walked rather unsteadily to Heather and allowed herself to be picked up. She buried her head into Hannah’s shoulders. I had a feeling that she was a bit shy of me. I didn’t blame her.

‘Right, go and sort out your sister,’ said Samantha, ‘while we get things sorted out with Amy here.’

Hannah raised her eyes to the ceiling and muttering to herself she went upstairs carrying a giggling Heather. She turned as she went up.

‘Slave drivers, that’s what they are. I actually have to do the washing up too. What’s wrong with a dishwasher? Go now Amy; save yourself before it’s too late…’

She then disappeared on a bend in the staircase. I didn’t take what she said too seriously as she had been grinning when she said it.

‘Heather is a bit behind with her speech. She was premature and that may be the reason, but she is catching up with normal kids of her age,’ said Samantha who chose to ignore the accusation that they were slave drivers.

‘She’s sweet,’ I said.

‘Mmm, she is, isn’t she? Now, do you want to freshen up?’

‘Please,’

‘I’ll show you your room,’ said Auntie Abby.

‘Okay, you two go and do what you have to do and then you can and come down and try my famous mice pies and maybe a sip of mulled wine?’

‘Sounds delish,’ I said enthusiastically.

The room was nice, if a bit small. - I don’t think that the house was built for this many people plus a thousand cats, but I wasn’t complaining.

Auntie Abby must have been reading my mind.

‘Sorry about the cramped space,’ she said, ‘we have asked for planning permission to extend. We have plenty of land here and want to make the place a lot bigger, but in the same style as we currently have. Red tape is holding things up a bit, but we will twist the arm of the committee and should get the go ahead in the New Year. We could move to a bigger place, but we love it here.’

‘It’s lovely and quirky.’

‘It is, isn’t it? Anyway, I’ll leave you to do what you have to do. Come downstairs when you’ve finished and have a bite to eat. We always have Christmas dinner late and then we are due to go to Mummy Dotty’s later.’

‘Is she as fierce as she looks and sounds?’

‘Not really, although others might think that she breaths fire. She is a real sweetie and she is someone who is great to have on your side.’

‘What is that thing with the shotgun?’

‘She made it her life’s ambition to get rid of the moles on her lawn. Mind you, to my knowledge she’s never hit a mole with her gun yet and between you and me, Jenkins, her butler, only supplies her with blank bullets. Right, see you downstairs. The bathroom is at the end of the landing.’

She left me to it and I took my meagre selection of clothes out of my case and hung them up in the closet.

After that, I looked out of the window. Below I could see the snow covered garden and a small lake, complete with ducks and the occasional cat prowling about. In the distance, the beach and sea was visible, although it was a bit misty out there.

After doing what I had to do, I made my way downstairs and found everyone in the large, cheerful kitchen. Heather was playing on the floor with Gaby. Hannah was pealing spuds with a look on her face that I interpreted as her not liking the job very much. Auntie Abby and Samantha were sitting at the table, shelling peas and sipping glasses of wine.

‘There you are love,’ said my aunt, ‘pull up a chair, grab a mince pie and try some of this.’

She poured some wine out of a saucepan, it was hot and smelt lovely; all sort of spicy.

‘Not too much as officially you are under age, but a small glass shouldn’t hurt,’ said Auntie.

‘I can’t drink much of it either,’ said Samantha, ‘it goes to my head.’

‘Mummy Sam gets drunk, just sniffing alcohol,’ said Hannah.

‘A bit of an overstatement,’ said Samantha, ‘but still, there is a grain of truth to it. Now, Amy, Abby has told me about what happened at the pottery. Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I think so. Auntie Abby saved me.’

‘Super Abby, flies through the air with the greatest of ease. Can jump over mountains, has the strength of ten, heroine…’

‘Shut up Hannah.’

‘Sorree,’ she replied, smiling.

‘Well, you are safe here,’ said Samantha.

Hannah’s phone went off.

‘Hi Sarah, yea, she’s fine, the usual number of arms, legs, stuff like that.’

She was looking at me and I felt a bit under the microscope.

‘Sarah is Mummy Dotty’s dotty adopted daughter,’ explained Auntie, ‘she can talk the hind legs off a donkey and even in this place of strangeness, she is a one off.’

‘Thank goodness,’ breathed Samantha.

Hannah who didn’t seem to mind being eve dropped, carried on as if I wasn’t there.

‘Yea, quite pretty, bit of a disaster, hair wise under the wig, but still, she has prospects. She won’t beat off the boys yet, but with a bit of help and excellent advice from me, I think that she might make something of herself….’

‘Hannah,’ said Auntie Abby firmly, ‘enough.’

‘Oops, sorry Sarah, parental unit malfunction, got ta go, see ya laters,’

She stabbed a button on the phone and then looked around expectantly.

I could have cried, what with all that had gone on recently, but I had a bit of a funny bone and I just laughed out loud.

‘What?’ asked Hannah, with an all innocent and butter wouldn’t melt in the mouth look.’

‘You do not tell other people about Amy without her permission and that crack about her hair is rude and insensitive.’

Hannah looked crestfallen.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I got sort of carried away and anyway, Amy is pretty and her wig suits her and what if she has less hair than that Kojak bloke you like watching on Ancient TV…’

Hannah sort of tailed off as her combined mothers looked at her as if she was deep in the doo-doo.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled and then turned to me, ‘wanna see my room?’

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘if that’s all right?’ I enquired.

‘Off you go, take a mince pie with you. You are all skin and bone. I can see that you will need fattening up,’ said Samantha, eying me up and down.

We went upstairs leaving the adults to talk about me. As we reached the top of the stairs, Hannah stopped, put her finger to her lips and then crept downstairs a bit. Still out of sight of the adults, she could, I think, hear all that was being said.

She stayed there for a few minutes and then came up. Without a word, she grabbed my hand and led me to her room.

Shutting the door quietly, she stood there for a moment and then came over and gave me a hug.

‘They are making plans about you. Something about going to the hairdressers, makeovers, stuff like that. Sorry about the hair thing; my mouth sometimes says silly things without my input. It’s my mouths fault. I keep telling it to shut up, but it keeps saying things without my permission.’

‘That’s all right. I know that you weren’t being mean.’

‘You will find that we are all a bit nuts around here. It must be something in the water. Anyway, this John Barnes character, is he for real?’

‘Unfortunately yes. He liked me at first…’

I told her all that had happened to me. The fact that she said nothing made me wonder for a moment if she made a mistake in befriending me.

I finished and for some reason I was crying.

She looked at me and then I noticed that she too had tears in her eyes.

‘I feel awful now,’ she said, ‘I didn’t know the full story and I thought…well never mind what I thought. I got it wrong. You’ve really been through it haven’t you?

‘Sort of.’ I said, smiling sadly.

‘Right,’ she said, ‘when I came here I was in a mess too and everyone was kind to me and I was taken in by Sam and Abby. They made me welcome and helped me with my issues. I am transgendered too and they have always been there for me. Now I’m their daughter and I love them more than words can say. If anyone can help you, they can. Most of the people in Penmarris have been so nice to me and not judged me; it’s that kind of place. Oh there are one or two idiots around, but if they say anything, they are jumped on from a great height. What I’m saying is that I am sure that you have a home here and everyone will fight to protect you.’

‘I hope so, I can do with all the help I can get.’

‘Just let that John show his face around here again; he won’t know what hit him! Anyway, enough of that; what clothes have you brought with you?’

‘Not much; John threw most of them away and I could only bring what I had hidden away from him and his sons.’

‘They sound like a bad bunch. Lets go see what you’ve got.’

We went to my room and soon all the clothes that had been lovingly hung up, were strewn across the bed.

‘Not much is there?’ she said after going through them, ‘still, a couple of nice tops and skirts to mix and match. It looks like we are going to have to go on a Boxing Day frenzy of shopping.’

‘I don’t have much money left.’

‘So what?’

‘Well you can’t buy clothes without money.’

‘We have money; pots of it.’

‘I couldn’t…’

‘Don’t be daft…’

‘I’m not being daft. Look, Auntie Abby didn’t…I mean she’s lovely and everything and so are you and the children and Samantha, but I don’t want to sponge off anyone. I’m nearly sixteen and I was only going to ask her if she would let me stay until my birthday and then I could get a job and be independent and not have to worry about being let down by anyone or losing them like I lost my mum and dad…’

Of course, I started crying again and couldn’t finish what I started to say.

How could I explain that anyone and everyone that I had loved had gone away or had turned against me? I didn’t want the pain of any more rejection. I thought that John loved me, but he didn’t and I did not want to go through any more pain and suffering.

I found myself, face down on the pillow and somehow realised that I was alone. Maybe, Hannah was fed up with my being a cry-baby or she just didn’t like me and couldn’t wait to get away from me…

I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder. I turned over and looked up through tear stained eyes.

‘Oh Amy, come here love.’

I fell into the arms of my aunt and cried my eyes out.

---

To Be Continued…

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

 

Previously…

‘I’m not being daft. Look, Auntie Abby didn’t…I mean she’s lovely and everything and so are you and the children and Samantha, but I don’t want to sponge off anyone. I’m nearly sixteen and I was only going to ask her if she would let me stay until my birthday and then I could get a job and be independent and not have to worry about being let down by anyone or losing them like I lost my mum and dad…’

Of course, I started crying again and couldn’t finish what I started to say.

How could I explain that anyone and everyone that I had loved had gone away or had turned against me? I didn’t want the pain of any more rejection. I thought that John loved me, but he didn’t and I did not want to go through any more pain and suffering.

I found myself, face down on the pillow and somehow realised that I was alone. Maybe, Hannah was fed up with my being a cry-baby or she just didn’t like me and couldn’t wait to get away from me…

I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder. I turned over and looked up through tear stained eyes.

‘Oh Amy, come here love.’

And now the story continues…

‘I’m sorry, Auntie Abby, I’m being an ungrateful cow. I..I’ve just had so many things go wrong in my life and I don’t want to have another disappointment.’

She looked at me, her eyes full of sadness.

‘I know that you’ve had it really rough. Losing both your parents and finding out the one person who agreed to look after and care for you is a scumbag. Well you are here now. You have to look forward and not back. I know that you don’t trust anything or anyone at the moment and I don’t blame you. But at some stage you will have to trust people and I hope that it’s us that you chose. We might all be slightly loopy around here, but our heart is in the right place and that’s important.

‘You have only been here a few days and you don’t really know us. Although I’m the closest relative that you have, we haven’t been in contact so I’m just like a stranger to you. What I can say is that you have a home here as long as you want. We will never ask you to leave, even if you turn out to be one of those terrible teen’s we read about.’

I giggled through my tears at that.

‘W…will you let me live as a girl?’

‘Of course; you are one aren’t you?’

I nodded.

‘Well looking as you do and dressed like that, I would have been surprised if you were anything other than a girl. Now, down to practicalities. I know that you have only a few clothes to wear, so we will do a bit of Boxing Day bargain shopping tomorrow and get you some nice things to wear.’

‘But the cost…’

‘Stuff the cost.’

‘But I don’t want charity.’

‘It isn’t charity. As far as I am concerned, the minute that sod, John laid hands on you, he abrogated his responsibilities for you. So, I am the nearest thing you have to a parent. I know that you are fifteen and on your birthday, you have more options, but for now, I’ll look after you. If you want to stay after your birthday, you will be welcome to stay until you draw your pension.’

I smiled at that. I was hearing things that sounded so nice that I had a glimmer of hope that my bad fortune might have changed.

‘So none of this charity nonsense. You are part of this family and we will pay for anything that you need. We are not poor, in fact we have enough money to pay for anything you might need without even causing a ripple.’

‘Thank you.’ I said quietly.

‘No problem; now back to practicalities. After lunch we will be going to Lady Fairbairn’s little shack. She is a stickler for correct dress for the occasion, so we need to sort you out with a posh frock. Hannah is about your size, so we can ask her if you can wear one of hers.’

‘Will Lady Fairbairn mind my erm, being different?’

She laughed.

‘You haven’t been here long have you? This place is full of “different” people and Dotty is more different than most. What she doesn’t like is falseness, cruelty, lies and deceit. Also, she does not suffer fools gladly, as a number of people can testify. She couldn’t care less if you are straight, bi, TG, what colour you are or anything else. To her, it’s what is in the heart and soul that matters and she will defend anyone who needs help and deserves it.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘so she is Penmarris’s sort of fairy godmother?’

She laughed.

‘Don’t say that to her face, but I think that she is. Now is there anything else that is worrying you?’

I thought for a moment, there was something…

‘Erm, my step brothers.’

‘What about them?’

“I don’t like them and they have been cruel to me, but I wonder if they are like that because of the influence of their father.’

‘Probably, some say the kids are a reflection of their parents and that is certainly true of you. You are as kind, nice and caring as both your parents were. They would be proud of you.’

I felt myself go red but ploughed on.

‘I’m worried that they might be in danger because of John. In the pottery you could see what sort of person he’s like. He might take out his frustrations on them.’

‘It’s possible that he might turn nasty with them, judging by his current behaviour. I have told the police about John and his assault on you. I also told them that you have to step brothers. I happen to know that it is an automatic procedure that any siblings of someone accused of child cruelty are flagged up and referred to the social services. `if you want, I will contact someone I know in the SS and ask them to find out if anything is being done. What are their names?’

‘George and Robert, they are twins.’

‘And you say their mother isn’t around?’

‘No John and her divorced and there hasn’t been any contact for quite a while.’

‘Mmm, strange that. Anyway, I will make a few enquiries and then get back to you.’

She got up.

‘Right, I’m going downstairs to help Sam get dinner ready. It’s mainly all done, but I feel guilty if I don’t give a hand. You stay up here and have a rest. You have had a bit of a rough time over the last few days and haven’t quite shaken off your bug yet. I’ll send Hannah up later, when dinner is ready. I hope that you like turkey and all the trimmings?’

‘Mmm, yes. Mum made a lovely Christmas dinner…’

‘Well, I’m not sure that we can attain your mum’s obvious culinary expertise, but we will do our best. See you later, get some shut eye as I think that we won’t be going to bed until late tonight.’

She kissed me on the cheek and left me to my thoughts.

Lots of things were running through my head as I lay there on the bed staring at the ceiling.

All the tears that I had shed, left me kind of emotionally drained. I never used to be this emotional. I had always bottled all my feelings up and I was sure that that wasn’t good for me.

I hoped sincerely that I would never see John again but knew realistically that I hadn’t seen the back of him. It was still a mystery to me why he was so keen to have me in his clutches. For some time now he had shown no love or affection for me, in fact he seemed to hate me for who I am - a girl. All right, I wasn’t physically one yet, but for most of my life I had been a girl and I had thought that he understood that and supported me, otherwise, why did he marry my mum?

I shut my eyes as I had a slight headache — probably a tension one. The bed was realty comfortable and I was nice and warm due to the log fire crackling in the grate. It didn’t take long for me to relax and fall asleep.

~*~

‘Come on Amy, it’s dinner time.’

I opened my eyes and for a moment I wondered where I was and then it all came rushing back. After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I looked up and there was Hannah, grinning at me.

‘Come on, sleepyhead, I’m starving and we can’t start without you.’

I found myself being dragged downstairs, through the kitchen and into what, I understood, was called the breakfast room. Everyone was there, Auntie Abby, Samantha, Heather, Gabrielle and a couple of cats.

The table was festively decorated with a red, green and gold table cloth, a centre runner of gold cloth and as a centrepiece there was an antique brass candelabra with red and gold candles with sprigs of holly and red berry garlands. Each place had a Christmas cracker and red napkins rolled up in what looked like shiny brass rings.

It was all magical and I just loved it, but not as much as I loved the greetings I received from everyone. I felt so at home and wanted, something that I hadn't experienced for some time. I had been welcomed with open arms and just then, it occurred to me that maybe I had now turned a corner and my life might just start to get a little better.

I won’t go through a blow-by-blow account of the excellent meal. I will gloss over the fact that Heather decided that it was a good idea to start throwing her food around a bit and Gabi with perfect timing was sick all down her pretty dress and had to have an emergency clothendectomy…

I just had a great time and enjoyed myself immensely. By the time we had consumed the Christmas pudding, I was as fat as a beached whale, or it felt that way, anyway.

The adults, Hannah and I all sort of collapsed in the sitting room, after the meal. Heather and Gabi were having a nap and we just took the opportunity to chill out a bit.

All too soon, it started to get dark outside and it started gently snowing again. We watched the Queen on TV and then Scrooge, the old one with Alistair Sim. It was originally in black and white but this had been colourised.

After the film, the girls seemed to do a synchronised waking up and it was time to get ready to go out. The snow had stopped luckily. Although it’s nice to look at, snow is not much fun if you need to use a car to get out and about. It turned out that Lady Fairbairn’s place was a bit too far to walk, so we would have to drive.

Hannah took me up to her room and we had a lengthy discussion as to what we should wear, bearing in mind, that it was supposed to be sort of formal.

In the end it was decided that I would wear a sky blue dress in satin and chiffon that went just above my knee, it was truly scrumptious and floated down around me when I tried it on for size. It came with a matching chiffon shrug and sky blue patent shoes all of which made me feel like a princess once I finished dressing.

Hannah had chosen a LBD that was, to say the least, a bit on the short side. I wondered if it might not receive parental support, but surprisingly, it passed inspection.

I had time for a quick shower and hair wash, not that I had much hair now. Once I had dried myself off, I put on my training bra, panties and shear tights and then went over to my case where my meagre supply of makeup was stored. I was quite good at putting on makeup and had been taught by my mum, who had a great eye and steady hand.

Mum always said that if you had good skin (which evidently I do have), then less is more and I had always remembered that. The best look was the one where it almost didn’t appear to have makeup on. I know that some girls of my age plaster makeup on almost with a trowel and go totally over the top. That wasn’t for me and after a thin layer of foundation, blusher, eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow; I applied some bubble gum pink lip gloss which tasted like yummy strawberries.

Once I was totally satisfied with my looks, I went over to my dress and stepped into it. With a certain amount of double-jointed contortions, I managed to do the zip up the back. Then I carefully put on the shrug.

The next thing to do was to put my special locket with it's fine gold chain around my neck. I opened the locket and looked at the small photo of my mum and dad. I so much hope that they were looking down on me and approved of me. I clicked the locket shut and then went over to the wig stand and put my wig cap on, being carful to tuck in the stray hairs and then I placed the wig carefully on my head.

After brushing my wig out, I put my shoes on and then had a quick spritz of perfume, walking through the fine spray.

It was only once I had completely finished getting ready that I had a good look at myself in the long mirror on the wardrobe.

My reflection showed a quite pretty girl, regretfully of about thirteen. I just wished that I looked my age. Then I smiled ruefully, knowing for a fact that when I was an ancient forty, I would wish to look twenty!

I sighed and then noticed that my lipstick was slightly wobbly, so I did some emergency repairs. A few seconds later, there was a knock at my door.

‘Come in,’ I called.

The door opened and Auntie Abby stepped in. she looked wonderful in a silver silk, calf length dress that made her look rather glamorous.

‘You look lovely! She said smiling.

‘So do you.’ I replied.

‘Oh, this old thing,’ she said airily.

“If it’s that old, why is there a price ticket on the back?’

‘What!’

She feverishly felt for the label and then I couldn’t keep a straight face and just giggled behind my hand.

‘You!’ she said smiling, ‘I’ll get you back for that, young lady.’

I giggled and then grabbed my coat and bag.

We were still smiling as we went downstairs to the others who were waiting for us, already in coats and in the case of the little ones, scarves, hats and gloves.

‘Wowie!’ said Hannah.

Whoopiedo,’ said Samantha.

‘Pity desses,’ said a pointing Heather.

‘Ugg, ugg, google, burp,’ said Gaby through her dummy.

My aunt and I did a reasonable impression of a curtsy and then we all laughed.

We were ready to go.

~*~

We made away out to the garage. There were four cars parked, two in the garage and two outside. One of the nerdy, non-girlie hangovers from my boy side was knowing what car was what. I could see in the garage a Porche 911 Turbo S Cabriolet, which just happened to have a top speed of nearly 200 mph and 0 to 62 in a spine crushing 3.4 seconds. Next to that stood a sedate (not) bright red BMW 5 series ActiveHybrid. Then just in front, I had to look twice as there was a car that you don’t see much of now days - a yellow 2CV. I would have liked have a bit of a chat about the cars, but we went over to the final car which was a brand new Land Rover Discovery 2- 4wd, which was a seven seater and very practical for a large family, especially on winter roads like ours.

We all piled in and I was privileged to sit in the front passenger seat as Sam and Hannah helped the girls into their child seats.

I tried to count up how much the combined price of all these cars were and we were talking well into the six figures here.

I know that Auntie and Samantha was well off, but I think that she might have been modest about that!

Anyway, I had no more thoughts of the current wealth of the family as Auntie started the car and we were off.

We made our way out of the drive and then proceeded down to the quay, which now that it was dark, looked even more Christmassy, if that was possible. It was lovely to see the gaily painted houses and cottages bestrewn (if that was the word) with twinkling lights.

The quay was brightly lit and there were people milling about. Even the ice rink had a few hardy souls on it and I wondered how it was that on Christmas Evening that it was in operation. Mind you, Penmarris didn’t seem to be the same as any other place I had ever been too, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. Over to the side, there were several children having a snowball fight and a couple of enterprising kids were building the largest snowman that I had ever seen.

‘Shouldn’t they all be inside in the warm?’ I asked my aunt.

‘They will later, but it’s one of the traditions, if you like, that people come down to the quay for a while in the early evening and meet friends. Also all that activity helps the big Christmas dinner go down.’

Soon we were leaving the bright lights of the sea front and heading up another hill. As we left the village the houses grew further apart and seemed to get bigger. Eventually we went through some imposing gates and heading up a well-lit, tree lined drive.

Many of the trees, borders and flowerbeds were floodlit and it added to the beauty of the gardens. To the side was a lake and beyond that a fantastic, stepped waterfall that had hidden coloured lights on the steps, making the water look colourful and alive.

We went around a wide sweeping bend and there it was. This was what my aunt called a shack…

It was at least a mansion with pretensions to be a palace. It was the sort of place that Cinders went to the ball at. It was like almost everywhere else, floodlit. As was the tall fountain, shooting up water to the stars in the large circular ornamental pond.

The parkland behind the fountain looked strangely pockmarked with many small hills of earth and I wondered if those infamous moles had caused those blots on the landscape.

I didn’t have much more time to think as the great doors opened and a man stepped out and came over to the door. He looked quite business like in a suit.

He opened the nearside rear door and said ‘Merry Christmas ladies.’

‘Thanks Mr Jenkins,’ said Samantha.

‘Please, just Jenkins Miss.’

‘We want to call him Roy, but he won’t let us,’ whispered my aunt in my ear, it’s against the code of the Butlers Society or something.’

There was a certain amount of mayhem and confusion as the girls were extracted from their seats and then, eventually, we made our way inside.

There were butlery and servant types inside, taking coats. As Sam took her coat off, I could see that she had chosen a white dress with a festive red sash. She looked breathtakingly beautiful and I felt rather jealous, but in a good way.

The little ones both had pretty red velvet party dresses with lace collars and cuffs that actually matched. They looked very huggable.

The hallway was a big as the ground floor of my house in Reading; it was "spacious" as they say in estate agent circles. The hallway was dominated by a huge Christmas tree bedecked (if that is the right word) with tinsel, lights and colourful baubles.

Above that was an impressively large chandelier that must have been hell to clean.

I didn’t have much more time to think as there was a shout.

‘Hey, you’re here!’

A girl about our age came running in and skidded to a stop.

She looked at Hannah and Hannah looked at her.

They were dressed identically, down to the ribbon in their ponytails.

We all burst out laughing and Heather clapped.

It was a set up.

‘Mummy is going to be mad,’ said Sarah, for that was who it was.

‘Will she!’ said a disembodied voice floating down from upstairs.

The staff had mysteriously disappeared.

She came down the stairs, her long, heavy satin dress held with one hand and her other one on the ornate, gilded banister.

She made it to the bottom of the staircase and then went over to Samantha and Auntie Abby whom she embraced. She then turned to the little ones, who rather than be frightened of her, went all giggly as she gave them pecks on the cheek.

She then turned to me.

‘Amy; thank you for coming dear.’

‘Thank you for having me.’

‘So polite and such a devine voice. You must sing for us later.’

‘Must I?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ she said firmly and then she turned to the two peas in the pod that were Hannah and Sarah.

‘Hmm, so you thought that you might have a laugh at my expense?’

The girls stayed mute — probably a good idea in the circs.

She shook her head.

‘Girls, now days, don’t know what it’s about. Yer think that you can shock me? when I was your age, I was told off for dancing naked in the fountain after drinkin’ nearly a full bottle of champers with a prince who will be nameless. I would have been sent to the Tower of London if it weren’t for the queen’s timely intervention. Contrary ter popular belief, she has a strong sense of humour, unlike that bloody prime minister who needs ter sit on the occasional whoopee cushion ter give the man a sense of balance…’

There was a delicate and discrete cough. We all turned and Jenkins was there.

‘Tea is served.’

Following Lady Fairbairn and Samantha, we all trouped in with Hannah and Sarah taking up the rear and holding the little ones at the same time as talking nineteen to the dozen and giggling.

My hand was clamped on my auntie’s arm. To be honest Lady F scared the hell out of me and I didn’t want to be shot down in flames for saying something out of turn!

~*~

Tea was an informal occasion evidently. We all sat at a large oval table slightly smaller than the Wembley football pitch. The table was covered with enough food to feed a small nation. A bevy of servant types dished things out and, despite the fact that we had eaten a ginormous meal at lunch time, the assembled throng fell onto the nibbles like a swarm of rather hungry locusts. I noticed over by the fireplace a rather large dog who looked a bit fed up as it lay there looking pathetically hungry.

I felt a bit sorry for the dog.

‘Auntie,;

‘Yes dear?’

‘That dog looks unhappy.’

‘Oh, that’s Fifi, she’s in the dog house.’

‘Why?’

‘She pinched a ham from the kitchen when cook wasn’t looking.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, she ate the lot and then was promptly sick all over the parquet flooring and an expensive Chinese rug, it was evidently a pressie from the Shah of somewhere or other.’

‘Gosh.’

‘As you say gosh. Anyway, the vet decided that she should be on a strict diet and that means she not a very happy doggie.’

The meal went on its inevitable way and we were, after a bit, well and truly stuffed, as Sarah eloquently put it.

We adjourned to the drawing room, although I couldn’t see any drawings, just a load of paintings of long dead ancestors. Still it was comfy and bestrewn (if that’s the word) with a large number of deep leather armchairs and sofas. I just hoped that the cows died happy…

After letting the food go down a bit, the little ones were allowed to play or in the case of Gabi, attempt to crawl over the floor and try to smash as many priceless ornaments as possible. Soon though, it was obvious that they were getting ratty, as young kids specialise in doing when they are tired. It was decided that they would be put down for the night and it was only then that I found out that we were all staying for the night.

The room emptied as my aunt and Sam went to put the sprogettes down and Hannah went with Sarah somewhere or other. I think that this was all pre-planned and I had some naughty thoughts about being set up.

I had been left with the Marchioness of Hell.

~*~

She was finishing a cup of tea, little pinkie sticking out at attention. The dog, known as Fifi was by her side, sitting to attention.

The servant type people had left The Presence and I was left to the tender mercies of The Lady Fairbairn.

She placed the cup on the saucer and the tinkling sound echoed around the high ceilinged room.

Standing up. She went over to a corner where a chesterfield sofa stood and then she erm, sat down.

She looked at me still sitting at the table and I was somehow, anyhow, wishing that the ground would open up so that I could be swallowed whole.

I jumped as she spoke.

‘Come here child.’

I felt a bit like someone about to walk the plank or maybe climbing the steps to the scaffold (did I say that I had a bit of an imagination?) as I got up and walked over to her.

She patted the cow bound seat and I sat next to her. Fifi had somehow raised an eyebrow and seemed to look at me disapprovingly, although it might have just been indigestion.

Then she spoke.

‘Amy, I haven’t had much time ter greet yer. With a daughter like Sarah, I find that my mind is kept somewhat busy. She is a trial, but somehow, God forgive me, I love her. Then there are the moles…but enough of my troubles. How are you?’

‘F…fine thank you My Lady.’

‘None of that nonsense, call me erm, Auntie Dotty, if you like. Now, tell me what brings yer ter to our neck of the woods? I must warn yer, that I have heard a bit about it but I want ter hear it from yer own lips.’

I took a deep breath and told her all that had happened.

Of course, I got upset as the wounds were still very fresh but I managed, with the help of a few tissues and ‘there, there, there’s,’ from Lady…I mean Auntie Dotty, to get my sorry story out.

She didn’t say much for a moment, but I realised that she had been holding my hand for sometime and that was somehow rather comforting.

She cleared her throat.

‘Well, you have been hard done by and this John character aught to be hung, drawn and quartered. I have a little influence with the powers that be and I will make sure that this matter is investigated and the man prosecuted with the full force of the law. The local police are fine in their way, but they are somewhat limited in intelligence, as most men are. It is up to us women to sort things out and make sure that justice is done.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, not knowing what else to say after such a sweeping statement, dismissing the intelligence of half the people on the planet, as she had just done.

‘Don’t mention it. You are Abby’s niece and as such, I consider you to be family. If yer need any help, let me know. You are always welcome here and yer can treat the place as home. I like young things around me as it makes me feel younger myself; although I have more than a few grey hairs due to havin’ Sarah around all the time. I had considered finishin’ school in Switzerland, but wouldn’t like to be responsible for an international incident if I unleashed her on an unsuspectin’ country.’

Just then there was a knock on the door and I jumped as she bellowed, ‘come in damn yer.’

I found her to be a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde character and I leave it to you to decide which one I preferred.

The door opened and everyone streamed in. It had been pretty obvious at the less than subtle exit stage left of all the main characters, that I had been left alone for an audience with She Who Must Be Obeyed. Now the audience was over and normal festivities could resume.

However, I wasn’t frightened of Lady Fairbairn or Auntie Dotty anymore because I realised, as other must have before me, that she might be a hard boiled sweet, but she had a rather nice soft center.

The rest of the evening went like a dream and I let what hair I had down, lost my shyness and really enjoyed myself.

The evening culminated with a carol singsong around the Steinway grand piano.

Most of the singers were in harmony, except for Sarah who was tone deaf. She did try. As her mother told that she was very trying sometimes!

Finally, after a swig of under age eggnog, I was persuaded to do a solo.

Samantha was a fine pianist and she accompanied me when I sang the all time favourite Silent Night.

As usual when I sung, my inhibitions went out of the window and as Fifi dreamed in front of the fire and snow started to fall gently outside, covering the mole holes, all be it temporarily, I started to sing:
 
 

Silent night, Holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in Heavenly peace
Sleep in Heavenly peace...
 
 

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

To be continued…

 

Previously…

The rest of the evening went like a dream and I let what hair I had down, lost my shyness and really enjoyed myself.

The evening culminated with a carol singsong around the Steinway grand piano.

Most of the singers were in harmony, except for Sarah who was tone deaf. She did try. As her mother told that she was very trying sometimes!

Finally, after a swig of under age eggnog, I was persuaded to do a solo.

Samantha was a fine pianist and she accompanied me when I sang the all time favourite Silent Night.

As usual when I sung, my inhibitions went out of the window and as Fifi dreamed in front of the fire and snow started to fall gently outside, covering the mole holes, all be it temporarily, I started to sing:
 
 

Silent night, Holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in Heavenly peace
Sleep in Heavenly peace...
 
 

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

And now the story continues…

I was somewhat tired after the sing-along and it was obvious to the sensible adults that after everything that had happened to me, I needed rest and some quiet time.

I was taken for a twenty-mile hike by my aunt, through countless corridors with pictures on the walls of dear and not so dear departed ancestors, until I was finally ushered into a room.

‘There you are dear; you can sleep here. Don’t worry, we will be in rooms nearby, Sam and I are next door, Hannah across the corridor and Sarah next to hers, so if you have any worries, we’ll be nearby.’

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and left me too it.

The room was nice and not all that old fashioned. Mind you, the ceilings were high and the fireplace huge. It was nice though as there was a warming log fire glowing and the bed, although old, proved to be soft and comfortable. The room itself wasn’t wood panelled like a lot of others, but had a cheerful rose patterned wallpaper and a cream coloured carpet that my stockinged feet into sank into as I walked on it.

There was a door leading off the room and when I opened it, I saw that it was an en-suite with a toilet, and shower.

Over the sink was a large mirror and looking at my reflection, I could see the dark rings under my eyes that had not been totally hidden by the makeup.

I walked back out and went over to the window, which overlooked the pockmarked lawns, the lake and waterfall. Everything had a white covering except the running water and it all looked very Christmassy. In the distance was the village with its twinkling lights and the quay where the huge boat was moored and lit up like a Christmas tree. I wondered who owned such a huge thing and wondered once again why they had parked the ship or whatever it’s called, here?

I yawned, realising that I was very tired, so I went through to the en-suite and somewhat reluctantly took off my clothes and hung the dress on the back of the door. After removing my makeup, and wig, I put on a shower hat had a quick shower. After drying myself and trying to brush out my mutilated hair, I went back into the bedroom.

On the pillow was a nightie; it was made of pink satin, had spaghetti straps and was quite long. It looked lovely and I couldn’t wait to put it on and snuggle up in bed, and that’s exactly what I did. Before I even realised it, I was asleep.

I was awoken by the sound of curtains being drawn back. As I hadn’t closed them the previous night, someone must have come in whilst I was asleep and done it for me.

‘Morning Miss,’ said a young girl in a rather traditional maids uniform, complete with a frilly apron and cap.

‘Morning,’ I replied, yawning and stretching.

‘Breakfast will be ready in 45 minutes Miss, the instructions are, informal,’

‘Erm, thanks.’ I replied.

‘Do you need help dressing Miss?’

‘N…no thanks.’

She gave me a cheery smile and then left me to it.

It turned out that some clothes had been brought for me to wear today and they were on the back of the door on hangars. It all seemed a bit of a slick operation to me and I was impressed that everything seemed to have been thought out without my actually being aware of it.

I had been told informal. What did that mean here in this posh place; don’t bother with a tiara? I didn’t want to look an idiot and despite the fact that Lady F appeared to be a bit of a sweetie under that strict exterior, the last thing I wanted was for her to take a pot shot at me with her twelve bore or whatever it was called.

With a Holmes like accuracy, I assumed that everything on the hangars were allowable today and I had a quick look at what I could chose from, well aware that time was moving along and I didn’t want to be late.

There were a few dresses, some blouses and skirts, but nothing remotely like jeans. Mind you, I was always the sort of girl, given the choice, to wear skirts and dresses rather than clothes with legs, if you know what I mean.

I was scratching my head when there was a knock on the door.

‘Come in.’ I called.

The door opened and there was Sarah.

‘Hi Amy; did you sleep all right?’

‘Yes thanks.’

I saw that she was wearing a pink top and blue skirt that looked a little on the short side, but what did I know? I was a bit old fashioned about short skirts…well that’s a fib as I was always conscious of my knobbly knees and wouldn’t dare wear something like that.

‘Not sure what to wear?’

‘No.’

‘Let me help.’

In seconds, the clothes had been put on the bed and I was told to try everything on and then a decision would be made as to its suitability.’

A couple of dresses were immediately discarded as being too churchy, a few more as not suitable for my colouring. Similar things were said about other items and then my choices were whittled down to one dress, two blouses and two skirts.

I must admit that although I had dressed as a girl in the past, before the hated John stopped me, but I didn’t have much of a clue as to what was acceptable. My mum, although I loved her dearly, wasn’t all that girly and preferred jeans and leggings and other casual clothes to dressing up, so she wasn’t much help in my choosing a wardrobe.

I had relied a lot on teen magazines and stuff on the Internet, not the best source of material. It didn’t help that when I went to the girls’ school, we all wore uniforms and I wasn’t in the ‘in crowd,’ where talking about clothes and makeup was de rigueur, being more of the geeky type and the few geeky friends that I did have, had less dress sense than me!

So, I was a bit of a novice when it came to clothes and as I still had a hated boyish shape, I tended to go for loose clothing that didn’t accentuate my bodily faults.

Sarah, now, she was different and would look pretty in a bin bag. But she wasn’t having anything to do with my shyness and lack of confidence. She wanted me to wear a cream satin top and a plum coloured pleated skirt that went down to mid thigh.

I was very reluctant to try it on and I told her about my deformed knees, but she was having none of that.

‘Who said you have dodgy knees? That’s rubbish, you are pretty and you will look prettier when your hair grows out again. Mind you, the wig looks great on you and you wouldn’t know it’s a wig. Just try the clothes on will you? We don't have much time and Mummy is a stickler for punctuality.’

I reluctantly went into the bathroom and put the clothes on. I was already wearing my bra with the inserts and my panties and tights, so it was the work of a moment for me to put the clothes on and then my wig. I brushed the wig through and then without really looking at myself in the mirror, I went back into the bedroom.

Sarah was looking out of the window, but turned as I came in and smiled.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘the only thing missing is your glasses.’

‘What do you mean, I have good eyesight?’

‘You said that you have knobbly knees. You must be short sighted cos if those knees are knobbly, I’m a Dutchman. You look really pretty and have great legs, you cow. My legs are like sticks; yours are great; I hate you now. When you start dating the boys or girls, if you prefer, they are going to love those legs. If I can wear short skirts with legs like a stick insect, then you can too.’

‘Won’t your mum have a go at me for wearing this?’

‘Not a chance. Mummy is great about what I wear and she will be the same as you. She draws the line at tart, grunge and Goth, but other than that, she’s cool.’

‘What about my aunt??’

‘What about her.’

‘Erm is she straight laced?’

I realised that I still knew very little about Auntie Abby and I didn’t want her to be annoyed with me.

‘Nah, she’s cool too. Look, slap on some makeup and then come downstairs. Not too much though, cos the olds don’t think that we should go overboard. See you soon and hurry up!’

She smiled and then left me to it. I could hear her running down the corridor as I quickly applied some minimal makeup, as per instructions, placed the locket with my mum and dad’s photo inside, slipped on my black, low heeled shoes and then with a final uncertain look at myself, I made my way downstairs, just as the breakfast gong went off.

There were people in liveried and servant type clothes all over the place and it didn’t take much to realise that Lady F employed an awful lot of people —probably half the village.

I was pointed in the right direction by the butler, Mr Jenkins who smiled politely and didn’t laugh at what I was wearing. Mind you; he was probably taught at Butler School how to keep a straight face under exceptional circumstances.

A servant type opened the door and he motioned for me to go in, so with a deep breath, I hesitantly did just that.

The room had several small tables rather than a large one. It overlooked the snow covered gardens with floor to ceiling glass and large French doors in the centre section.

I stood there, looking uncertain as to where I should go, when Hannah got up from a table and came over.

‘Wow, you look ace.’ she said enthusiastically. She was wearing a denim skirt slightly shorter than mine and a peasant type white blouse, She looked very pretty.

‘Come on,’ she said as she dragged me across the room, past the table where the adults were hanging out and over to the one where she had been sitting with Sarah and two other girls, instantly recognisable as the pony mad Phillipa and Jen.

There were ‘Hi’s,’ all round as I sat down and was immediately asked by a waitress/maid, whatever, what I wanted to eat.

‘Erm.’ I said intelligently.

‘Try the full English, its well wicked,’ said Jen enthusiastically.

‘No it isn’t,’ said Phillipa, ‘she’ll get fat.’

‘Not as fat as you,’ retorted Jen.

‘Girls,’ said Hannah with a grin, ‘she can make her own mind up.’

I turned to the very patient serving type person and said, ‘can I have the full English please?’

‘Of course Miss,’

‘Please call me Amy.’

The girl looked shocked.

‘That would never do Miss. I’ll get your breakfast. Tea, coffee or juice?’

‘Erm, tea please.’

She did a sort of bob motion and then left.

‘Mummy would string her up if she said that she wanted to be called Hyacinth,’ said Sarah with relish.’

‘Hyacinth?’ I enquired.

‘Yea, her mum is potty about flowers, poor kid.’

‘Oh.’ I said, not knowing whether it would be nice to snigger about someone’s name and then thinking that it would be unkind to do so. Nice girl, aren’t I?

I looked over to the adult’s table and caught Auntie Abby’s eye. She smiled and gave me a little finger wave.

I waved back.

‘So,’ said Hannah, ‘what do you think about this place?’

‘It’s nice. I keep thinking that I might run into a load of photo snapping Japanese tourists taking a tour with a lady holding an umbrella up.’

They all laughed.

‘Mummy would never allow the house to be opened up to the public. She has strong views on that,’ said Sarah, and then with a creditable impression of Lady F, she continued, ‘Let the damn public in, trampin’ all over me Axeminster carpets, droppin’ priceless ornaments? What next, a café and gift shop and lunch with the Lady of the Manor? Over me dead body!’

We all laughed and then there was a cough, making us as one, jump.

‘What’s that yer saying you ungrateful whelp?’

Sarah didn’t look too scared as she mumbled, ‘sorry Mummy.’

‘Do not ‘sorry Mummy’ me, you spawn of the devil. Yer aren’t too old fer me ter put yer over me knee and give yer a good spankin.’

‘Ooh Mummy, you wouldn’t? I’d tell social services.’

‘You would too. In my day, yer took yer punishment and paid the consequences fer yer misdeeds. Now-days you get a pat on yer head and told not ter be a naughty girl.’

She shook her head.

‘I have a pamphlet somewhere about a school up in the frozen north of Scotland, maybe I should get it out an’ have a look at it.’

‘No Mummy please, I don’t want frozen knickers. I’ll be good,’ said Sarah with a feigned, horrified look.

‘Harrumph, that’ll be the day. Now girls I hope that yer treating young Amy well?’

‘Yes Auntie Dotty,’ replied everyone in unison.

‘Hmm,’

Then she turned to me.

‘We’ll chat later,’ she said with a kindly smile and then walked back to her table.

‘Gosh, what have you done to her?’ asked Sarah.

‘What do you mean?’

‘She looked all gooey at you and actually smiled. I could see cracks in her face where there weren’t any before. I didn’t know that she actually had a smile muscle.’

‘She smiles at me,’ piped up Hannah.

‘That’s because you crawl to her, “yes Auntie, no Auntie, three bags full Auntie.”’

‘I do not!’

‘Yes you do. And Jen and Phil, you are the same…’

You might think by the sound of it that they were all rowing about it, but they were giggling and laughing while arguing and I could tell that they were all really good friends. I hoped very much that I could be friends too!

After my excellent full English breakfast that could have fed a small village for two days and left me more than a little bloated, I felt a touch on my arm; it was Samantha.

‘Have you got a mo?’ she asked.

I nodded and after saying, ‘see you later,’ to the girls, I followed her out of the breakfast room, which I noticed had no adults left in it.

It didn’t help that as a parting shot, Sarah said, ‘deny everything!’

I was led down a corridor to another room and ushered in.

I stopped in the doorway, as there was a policewoman there, as well as my Auntie, Lady Fairbairn and another lady who I didn’t recognise.

‘Hi Amy,’ said my aunt,’ sit down for a minute, we have some news for you.’

I sat down and tried to pull down the hem of my all to short skirt. In the end I gave up and just sat with my legs clamped together and looked up expectantly.

‘Inspector, can you start?’ asked my aunt,

‘Of course; right young lady,’ said the policewoman turning to me, ‘I’m Inspector Pippa Thomsett and you need to be told what present position is regarding the assault on you. We will need a statement down at the station later, but as we had been told what has happened to you in the last few days by your aunt, so we took action.

‘Firstly, we put a search out for your step-father, this was important as we had prior knowledge of him and we knew of his violent nature.’

‘Has he been in trouble before then?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but I will get back to that later. Steps were taken to inform Reading Police of the position because we wanted to ensure that your step-brothers were safe.’

‘But he loved his children and just hated me.’

‘Perhaps, but we were not sure about his state of mind and in these situations, it is important that the children were protected. Two police officers went to your home and George and Robert, the twins were there.’

She stopped for a moment and then looked at Auntie Abby who nodded.

‘They were found locked in the garage and bound up. They had been there for two days and were not in as good condition, physically or mentally.’

‘Are they all right?’ I asked, feeling sick to my stomach.

‘Yes, they were treated in hospital for minor exposure and some cuts and bruises, but they are okay now and have gone to their aunt in Scotland.’

‘I didn’t know that they had an aunt.’

‘I think that you may have not known a lot of things. Evidently, when you left he took it out on them and blamed them for not making sure that you stayed in the house. People like that will blame anyone other than themselves.

‘Anyway, we traced him to this area, but he gave us the slip. He was sighted in Bodmin where he dumped his car and stole another one. We got that on CCTV. However, he is pretty resourceful and we believe that he has changed vehicles several times since then. However, it appears that when he was last sighted, he was on the A303 at Wincanton, which is actually heading in the general direction of Reading. We lost him there as he abandoned that car too. At the moment, because of his actions, we have as a top priority, a nationwide search going on with all stations and airports on the alert as well as every police force in the country.’

‘I don’t understand,’ I said, ‘why is he known to you and why is he doing all this?’

My auntie came over and sat next to me and held my hand as the inspector continued.

‘What I have to say to you might — no will upset you, but you need to know. John Barnes has a record of abusing people close to him. When he was 22 he beat up a girl and put her in hospital, he was jailed for a year, because it was his first conviction, even though he had been linked to violence before. He was released after just six months due to him being a model prisoner. He went off the map for a few years and then his wife, Brenda started complaining about assault. Unfortunately, she withdrew the charges and did the same thing another two times over the next years. Whether it was because she loved him or was intimidated by him, I am not sure, but it is a not uncommon pattern.’

‘I’d kill the bugger!’ said Lady F rather forcefully.

‘I didn’t hear that My Lady,’ said the inspector with a strange smile on her face before returning to me.

‘Anyway, it appears that Brenda had some sort of breakdown and she ran off.’

‘Without the twins?’ I asked.

‘We have found out that she was threatened and had little option to leave, you must remember that she was in a hell of a state and not really responsible for her actions. This is where it all gets rather complicated…’

‘I was told that she had access to the twins.’

‘I’m sorry, he lied.’

I really knew nothing, didn’t I?

‘Shall I continue?’ asked my aunt.

The inspector nodded.

‘It appears love that your mum was deceived. John had not divorced Brenda…’

‘What!’

‘He was still married to her. Because the boys were kept out of contact with their mother by John; whatever poison he said to them was taken as the truth. He told the twins that Brenda and he had had a divorce and that she didn’t want to have custody of them.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘So after threatening Brenda to keep away and above all keep her mouth shut, or else, he weaved a web of lies and then saw an opportunity to marry your mum…’

‘But why did he want to marry Mum?’

‘He might have loved her, I don’t know, but he was aware that she had a large expensive house and that your mother had a lot of money in the bank due to your fathers life insurance pay out. When he “married” your mum, he, being next of kin, would inherit and he made damned sure that everything would go to him.’

‘Mum wouldn’t have let him do that.’

Auntie Abby looked sad.

‘The new will was made just after your mum became really ill.’

‘What if she hadn’t been ill, would she still have agreed to leave everything to him?’

‘We will never know. Your mum was a lovely lady, but I feel that she lost a lot of drive when your dad died.’

‘How come nobody knew that he was already married?’

The inspector answered.

‘He provided false divorce papers at the registry office when he married Mary. He couldn’t get a legal divorce, as Brenda is a devout Catholic and, as far as she was concerned, could not end their marriage that way. She was lucky as, in my opinion he was unstable enough take “till death us do part” as a means to get rid of her.’

I sat there for a minute as it all sunk in. I was beyond tears at that moment and felt numb. It was all too much for me to take in, but I needed to know everything so I looked up at Inspector Thomsett and asked what was to happen now.

‘Well, we will catch him, I am sure, but until we do, you need to be looked after and its great that you have the support of your aunt and family. We will keep an eye on you, but all indications are that he knows that the game is up and he will try to get as far away as possible once he finds out that the twins have flown the nest. We are keeping a watch on the house and if he comes anywhere near, we will arrest him. With all the CCTV about in public places, it’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.’

Samantha spoke up.

‘Sorry Amy we didn’t introduce Miranda. Amy, this is Miranda Cartwright from the social services. Don’t worry, she’s on our side and is one of our friends. She’ll give you the lowdown as to your position. Miranda?’

I was surprised that Miranda was from the SS as she looked as if she walked straight off the catwalk and wore clothes even to my untrained eye looked classy and very expensive.

‘Hi Amy, it must all be a bit of a shock to you, first having to leave that scumbag, sorry, I’m here officially, what I meant to say was that fine upstanding pillar of the community. Anyway, your aunt here is your next of kin now and not that slimy…I mean fine upstanding citizen, and as such he has no power over you. Officially and in law he was never your step-father and as such, any will that was produced is, I understand, null and void. The social services have no problem with you staying with your aunt, but I must warn you that she can’t cook and has a tendency to believe that she is some form of artist when all she can do is throw pots…’

‘Oy, I have you know that I am at the top of the tree in my field.’

‘Yes dear,’ replied Miranda smugly, who, despite her occupation, I rather liked.

We spent some time discussing what would happen to me and a few juicy interjections from Lady F spiced things up a bit. Eventually, it was left that I was now under the care, custody and control if Auntie Abby and that I would have to eat her food in spite of the possible health consequences.

I eventually left the olds to it and went upstairs to pack. We were leaving in an hour as Auntie Abby and Samantha wanted to get back to the cats and Heather was due to go to a toddler’s party, somewhere or other.

It turned out that Hannah wanted to stay with the other girls, but I declined the invitation as I was, after all that had been said, a bit drained, mentally and physically.

When we were ready, we went downstairs, to be met by the unflappable Jenkins and Auntie Dotty who called me over.

‘Now, you must come here whenever yer like. I have an open house here for me friends and family. You are family now, so come when yer like. Sarah likes the company and she gets ratty if she doesn’t have people of her age around. When I was a sprog, yer didn’t have friends, we weren’t allowed ter have them. Being the local nobs, we couldn’t consort with the peasants, or so I was told. I did have a thing for a farmers hand…but that’s another story. The nearest thing to friends were me dog Sheba and also Lilibet and Margaret Rose, although she hated to be called Rose. Anyway, enough of that nonsense, orf yer go and I’ll see yer soon.’

With that, I got the imperial hug and kiss on the cheek and we were off with Gabi and Heather being carried to the car and then eventually, despite a number of wriggles, strapped in. Auntie got in the drivers side and I was riding shotgun, very apt that what with Auntie Dotty and her Purdey gun being close by.

Samantha went in the back with the little ones and with a wave we were off down the wide snow covered drive. I looked back and waved and Lady F, who had been joined by Fifi who sat at attention, waved back and then they both went into the house.

‘She’s nice.’ I said.

‘Mmm, we like her. Her bark is worse than her bite.’

‘Who Fifi?’

‘No, Mummy Dotty.’

I giggled.

‘She said that she didn’t have many friends but said something about Lilibet and Margaret.’

She briefly looked at me and smiled.

‘That would be our present queen and her sister.

‘Oh,’ I said.

We arrived back at Jellicle Cottage shortly after. The roads were still quite icy, but in the Range Rover it didn’t seem to matter.

I made my excuses and went upstairs to my bedroom. I think that they realised that I wanted to be alone and I was thankful for their sensitivity.

The bed had been made and the clothes, which I had left strewn all over the bed, had been tidied up by some unseen hand.

I lay down on the bed looking up at the ceiling and went over and over what had been said about John. It had all been a shock to me. I knew nothing about him really. He was a man who came into our lives on a falsehood. He even deceived his own children. What sort of man would do what he had done? The only good thing, if good was the right word, was that at least Mum didn’t know the truth about him.

I must admit to having a little cry then. It was so hard to take in but I had to accept that it had all happened.

The tears helped and I felt a little better after that. I must have dropped off for a minute or two, but I awoke to a soft knock at the door.

‘Come in.’

Auntie Abby came in and walked over to the bed.

‘How are you doing, dear?’

‘Better for a good cry and a nap.’

‘Fancy a bacon sarnie?

‘Yes please.’

‘Well go and clean up your face, you look a bit panderish, and then come down.’

‘Okay.’

She left me too it and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I grimaced, as I did look a bit worse for wear!

Fifteen minutes later I was ready to go down and I followed my nose to the kitchen.

‘Hi Amy,’ said Samantha with a smile, ‘feeling better?’

‘Yes thank you.’

‘Good, here’s a sandwich. Do you want something to drink?’

‘Gin and tonic, please.’

‘In your dreams, sunshine,’

‘Okay, coke then please.’

‘Try the fridge.’

I went over, pulled out a can, poured it into a glass and then I was told to take it into the sitting room as Auntie Abby was there with Heather.

‘Hi Auntie.’ I said.

‘Hello dear.’

Heather was in her own dream world, playing with her dolly so I didn’t disturb her. I just sat by the fire and looked at my auntie who was reading a book.

Shortly after I sat down, a cat came up on my lap, purred a bit, dug her claws into me, meowed and then settled down and got herself comfortable.

It was nice and peaceful there. I had had enough of upheaval and things going wrong. All was quiet except for the occasional squeals of delight from Heather, the turning of a page from Auntie Abby, the crackle of the fire and the purring of a contented cat.

I was just dropping off again — it must be the sea air — when the phone went off in the hall and I could hear the click of heels as Samantha went to answer it.

A few moments later she came in.

‘Abby, the alarm has ringing again.’

‘Oh no,’ she said and then turned to me. ‘The alarm for the pottery has gone off; it’s the third time this month. I’ll have to go and sort it out.’

‘I would go, ‘said Samantha, ‘I but I have the joint in the oven and Gabi will need a feed soon.’

‘No problem, I’ll go.’

‘Can I come?’ I asked.

‘Are you sure? I’m going to walk. I need waking up and a blowing out of the old cobwebs.’

‘I feel the same, if I stay here, I’ll nap and not be able to go to sleep tonight.’

‘What about John?’ asked Samantha.

‘He’ll be miles away by now.’ I said.

‘We thought that last time.’

‘Oh I can’t go hiding away for the rest of my life. If he comes, I swear that I will scream my head off and run a mile.’

They both laughed.

‘Okay, you’ve convinced me,’ said Auntie, ‘go and get your coat on. You can borrow Hannah’s boots; they’re by the front door.’

We closed the door behind us and I shivered slightly as it had grown cold since we came home earlier.

Our boots crunched on the snow as we walked down the hill. It started to gently snow again, but it didn’t bother us, as there was no wind, for once.

‘I hope that you will settle in all right here Amy.’

‘I’m sure I will. Thank you so much for taking me in.’

‘Hey, you are family and that’s what families do — well nice ones anyway. We will have to get you into school. Don’t worry, the schools in this area are LGBT friendly and also have zero tolerance stance against bullying.’

‘That’s good,’ I replied, ‘I would like to thank the Gotobed’s for taking me in, by the way.’

‘We will see them tomorrow so you can thank them then.’

‘Hello Abby; young Amy.’

In front of us stood a woman and a man that looked slightly seafareish. The fact that he was wearing some sort of naval uniform was a bit of a giveaway, as was his peaked hat, which had more gold braid on it than the dress worn by Lady F earlier and had the words Penmarris Surprise emblazoned on it.

‘Oh Hi Katie,’ said Auntie, ‘This is Katie our friend and solicitor and her, erm fiancé Harry Carpenter, captain of the little tub down in the harbour.’

‘Hello,’ I said shyly.

‘So, where are you two off to?’ asked Auntie.

‘Going to see Marcia. She promised to crack a bottle of wine to celebrate our engagement. Want to come?’

‘Sorry, we were sent a text about it, but things are up in the air at the moment. We will have a drink down The Toad and Tart later in the week though.’

‘No problem. When will we get the invites for your wedding then?’ asked Katie.

‘Soon, it’s in April, so we will have to get cracking. We are going to have matching wedding dresses and Heather is going to be a bride’s maid and maybe someone else?’ she said looking at me with raised eyebrows.

‘Cool,’ I replied, not realising that my Aunt and Sam were getting married. With every minute that passed I was learning something new about them.

‘Look, we have to dash, the blasted alarm has gone off again and I have to switch it off.’

‘Right, see you soon then. Bye Amy. By the way you look very pretty. I don’t know where you get your looks from, but it certainly isn’t Abby.’

‘Bloody cheek,’ said Auntie laughing as we walked away.

‘She’s nice,’ I said, ‘the captain didn’t say much though.’

‘Under the thumb; the best place for him,’ said Auntie.

We both laughed and carried on down the hill, around a slight bend and there was the quay with the sea beyond and the two beaches, one either side of it. The visibility wasn’t too good, because of the snow, but it was all very pretty and I wondered if anyone had made a jigsaw puzzle out of that scene, if they hadn’t, they should, as it would sell by the thousand.

The ground was a bit slippery, but the fresh snow helped to give some grip to the soles of our boots as we walked along the quay to the pottery. From some distance we heard the sound of the alarm.

‘Evidently, there are no signs of entry according to the police, so it’s just a question of me going in, keying in the number and switching the damned thing off. I will get it repaired after the holidays.’

We reached the pottery and Auntie Abby used a key to open the door.

‘Coming in?’ she asked as she pushed the door open.

‘No, I’ll stay outside and look at the view if you don’t mind.’

‘Okay, but be careful.’

‘It’s all right, he’s miles away.’

‘I know, but even so…’

‘Don’t worry, if he turns up, I’ll scream blue murder and come into the shop.’

She looked doubtful and then said, ‘well I won’t be a minute anyway, so don’t wander off will you?’

‘No Auntie.’

She looked up and down the road and then went in, leaving me to my thoughts.

I crossed the road and looked over the harbour wall. There were quite a few boats, yachts, fishing boats and the big boat/yacht/ship thingie, moored up on the opposite side of the harbour. I could make out its name now, The Penmarris Surprise. So the “little tub” mentioned by Auntie earlier was that thing. It must have been worth millions. Katie was a lucky woman to be hitched up to the captain of that ocean going liner. I wondered if she got a discount on the tickets?

There was the sound of a car engine in the distance coming closer. I paid little attention though, as I walked back to the pottery and looked in the window. Auntie had finished keying in the code for the alarm and it was silent now, hence the reason for hearing the car engine. She was picking up bits of pottery, left from when John did his infamous bull in a china shop impression.

She finished doing that and then mouthed toilet, pointing to a room at the back.

I nodded, knowing that old people needed to go to the toilet a lot and as she was over thirty, that was to be expected.

The engine noise grew a bit louder as it came nearer and then stopped abruptly out of sight.

I walked next door and looked through the window at Samantha’s gallery. I understood that she was a fantastically talented artist and a lot of the paintings hanging there were hers.

One of the pictures that caught my eye was one of my aunt. It had pride of place on one of the walls and was lit from above. Sam had caught my aunt perfectly. It was almost photographic in its perfection and I could see by the way it was painted that she loved Auntie Abby very much.

I sighed, it made me go all gooey just thinking about it and I had been asked if I wanted to be a bride’s maid — Short of being married in a wedding dress, the one thing I always wanted was to be a bride’s maid and I had been so jealous whenever I saw photos of girls being dressed so prettily and being part of a wedding ceremony. Now I had the chance to be one and it was just another thing to look forward to. Things were looking up!

I went back to the pottery and as I reached it, I looked up. There was the sound of a car starting up and the revving of the engine. As there was a slight bend in the road I hadn’t seen it.

The car appeared, it was red in colour, but I wasn’t that interested as I was getting cold now and I hoped that Auntie would finish her extended toilet break so that we could go home and have some hot chocolate or something.

I peered through the window. Still no sign of her; then I looked up, as the sound of that engine was rather strange —sort of as if the drivers foot was hard down on the accelerator, revving like mad.

I gasped, as I looked straight into the face of John as his car hurtled towards me.

I was like a deer in the headlights and stood routed to the spot as the car came ever nearer at a neck breaking speed.

The expression on his face was unreal.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion.

The car was nearly on top of me now.

I couldn’t look away. There was no one else in the world; just me, John and the red car that he was driving like a man demented, streaking towards me.

I just couldn’t move.

I closed my eyes at the last moment, knowing that I was about to be killed. I fleetingly wondered if it would hurt…

…I was roughly pushed to the side and someone landed on top of me.

A dog was barking loudly.

There was a metallic, crunching, crashing sound which was incredibly loud.

I looked up and I saw that the car had crashed into the pottery and virtually disappeared inside it.

‘Are you all right?’ said the man breathlessly. I looked at him and realised who it was.

‘Vicar?’

‘That’s me; any bones broken?’

‘N…no I’m f…fine.’

David Gotobed looked at me, helped me up and then nodded.

‘Can you look after my daft dog while I go and have a look at things?’

‘Yes,’ I said taking the lead of the Labrador, who despite everything, looked pretty calm.

Then I realised.

‘Auntie Abby,’ I screamed, ‘she’s in there!’

He looked grim.

‘Don’t move’ he said.

I stayed put, worried out of my mind that I might have lost yet another loved one. I was jinxed. Everyone who loved me — just died…

I sunk to the ground, my back up against what was left of the wall, barely aware that a lot of people had appeared. Someone put a blanket around my shoulders and attempted to take the dog away, but I had been told to look after her and that was what I was going to do. The dog stayed with me and wouldn’t move anyway.

I was bracing myself for bad news of my darling auntie…

‘Amy!’

I looked up and there she was hugging me tight.

‘Are you all right?’ she said.

I nodded unable to speak through my tears of joy. She was alive!

Journal entry 1st of March.

I was taken with my aunt to the cottage hospital. We were both suffering a bit from shock but allowed to go home after a strong cup of tea and some tender loving care.

John had died at the scene of the accident. He should have been wearing a seat belt.

He had evidently doubled back to Penmarris when he realised what had happened. It was a pity that the police hadn’t been able to catch him before all that carnage happened.

We will never know if John just saw us by chance or if he arranged things. A wire to the alarm had been cut and that set it off. He could have done that. He might have thought that Abby would have to go to the shop to turn the alarm off. The fact that I was there may have spurred him on to exact some sort of revenge against me and or Auntie Abby. We will never know what was going through his head at the time, but he must have known that the police were on to him and that he had lost everything.

The vicar, David Gotobed had been walking his dog and as soon as he saw what was happening, he rushed over and despite the incredible risk, pushed me out of the way. I didn’t know at the time but his arm had broken been broken in trying to save me. He said afterwards that he didn’t feel the pain until some time later.

CCTV showed how brave he actually was as it was only the fact that a tyre burst as it hit the curb, making the car swerve slightly that prevented him from losing his life whilst trying to save me.

David was awarded the George Medal for bravery in saving me and then going into a petrol soaked pottery to extract my aunt, who had been sitting on the loo and evidently, to her embarrassment, had her knickers around her ankles at the time of the crash!

I love him a lot, together with his wonderful wife Jocasta and dippy but nice children, Phillipa and Jen. It turned out that he was a member of the RNLI lifeboat crew and had shown extreme bravery before. Who would have thought that the mild mannered, genial David was a Super Vicar in disguise?

Shortly after all this, Samantha (call me Auntie Sam) contacted a tame solicitor of hers who sorted out the financial mess left by John’s misdeeds. It turned out that I owned the house and what was left of the money in my mothers’ accounts. There was still quite a bit despite some extravagant spending by John. I was evidently now the proud owner of a flash Audi, even though I was too young to drive it. It was now at Mr Potts’s garage being sorted out for a ding caused by John’s erratic driving.

The twins were still with their aunt, who became their legal guardian. John’s wife Brenda still had issues, but was, at last, coming to terms with her problems and she had started to see her children on a semi-regular basis in the hope that some time soon, she would have them back again.

I went to school with Hannah, Sarah and the others and was soon enjoying some sort of normal life, at last!

So that brings me up to date. I am happy to be where I am now and I look forward to having a less exciting life from now on. The trauma of all that had happened to me still comes back to me at times, but the nasty dreams are getting less and less and my counsellor Jane is sure that in time they should fade away.

I heard that the twins are doing well and in fact they wrote to me to say sorry for what they did. They want me to meet up with them sometime and I might do that, as they were as much victims as I was in all this.

My counsellor asked me to write this journal, as it can be helpful. I suppose it does help me come to terms as to what happened to me.

More later.

I put my journal down and wondered if I should show it to my auntie. I was told that I didn’t need to show it to anyone, but I thought that it would be nice to show her and get her reaction.

Standing up and stretching, I went over to the guardrail and stared out to sea. In the distance was Jersey. It was quite warm, despite the fact that it was still only March. We were all on The Penmarris Surprise as a birthday present for me from my two favourite aunts. I was 16 now and legally able to be a bit more independent, but I didn’t want independence, I wanted to belong to a family, my family. I felt a little hand in mine and I looked down and there was Heather, looking gorgeous in a little girl’s sailor dress.

I had missed out on that entire little girl thing, but I was luckier than a lot of gender-confused people. I had the love and support of my family and that counted so much.

‘Ook, boat!’

‘Yes Heather look at the nice boats.’

We were approaching Elizabeth Marina in St.Helier on Jersey and it all looked very nautical with lots of boats and yachts all lined up on piers. I wondered if The Penmarris Surprise would have a space to park itself, but the captain seemed to know what he was doing, well I hoped so anyway.

‘Miss, you are wanted on the bridge,’ said a female crewmember called Alicia, as she came up to me.

‘Oh, what about Heather?’

‘Leave her with me Miss; we can play games can’t we Heather?’

‘Pease!’ she said enthusiastically, letting go of my hand and grabbing Alicia’s.

‘Fickle child,’ I murmured as I made my way to the lofty heights of the bridge. I had been there before and was impressed by it’s interior and all of the state of the art equipment. I was still getting around the fact that this was the family yacht and that we were evidently loaded with doubloons. Mind you, I could get used to it!

I opened the door leading into the bridge and was surprised to see, as well as my aunts; Hannah, Sarah, Phillipa, Jen together with Jocasta and David Gotobed and the formidable but wonderful Lady Fairbairn.

‘They you are dear,’ said Auntie Abby coming over and giving me a quick hug’ ‘the captain needs you.’

‘Me?’ I squeaked.

The captain came over and led me to the steering wheel thingie. We were quite close to the entrance to the marina now and I could see people on the harbour wall looking at us and pointing. Others were fishing or just walking along admiring the boats.

‘As you are the birthday girl, here is a special sailors cap for you to wear and then you can hold the wheel for a moment and then you have a very important job.’

‘I have?’ I said as he put the cap on my head and then gently put my hands on the wheel.

I made absolutely sure that I didn’t move the wheel, even a millimetre. The last thing I wanted was a Titanic moment.

‘Right pull that lever back two notches.’

I did as I was told, in a seaman like fashion, and the engine sound seemed to get lower. This was great; I was driving the boat, all by myself!

‘Damn good piloting!’ said Lady F, ‘Durin the war…’

I zoned out, I had heard “during the war” from her on countless occasions now and to be honest, I wondered if it was true that she single-handedly influenced Churchill with suggestions that changed the course of the war. Thinking about it later, I thought that she probably did!

We were getting closer now and I was rather relieved when a sailor took over from me.

My friends over to the side were all giggling and pointing at me. I didn’t know why, I was doing a great job. Not everyone could drive a thing this big.

‘Well done Amy,’ said the captain flashing his glaringly brilliant white teeth and nearly blinding me,
‘Just one last thing, could you just press this button?’

It was a big red button and I just pressed it.

The noise of the ships horn was immense, making me almost wet myself. The people on the harbour wall seemed to jump as one and more than a few fishing rods dropped into the sea. The noise reverberated around the harbour and my ears were ringing.

When my hearing returned, I noticed that everyone was removing earplugs.

‘Thank you very much!’ I said hotly.

‘That was your initiation ceremony,’ said Auntie Sam, ‘you’re really one of us now.’

I looked at them all, grinning insanely at me and then smiled.

I was glad that I was one of us!

---

FIN

Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue