Drew Goes South Chapter 2 by Angharad Copyright© 2021 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

After the shopping trip to Weymouth, the car was reclaimed with only two minutes left on the ticket. There was a warden about, but he was busy over the other side of the large car park.

The shopping had been stowed in the boot, and Carol asked the teenagers, “It's only just after two, where shall we go next?”

“I don't know, what d'you think, Gabs?” said Maddy, feeling pleased with her acquisitions from the morning's looting.

“I've got my camera, and Dad said Maiden Castle was good. How far away is that Auntie Carol?”

Carol pushed the atlas over the seat, “Here, you have a look, I haven't got my glasses on.” Two pairs of young eyes perused the map.

“Weymouth, that's where we are, it's near Dorchester I think Dad said. Look, there it is.” squealed Drew, pointing his finger at the map.

“Well, I think I can find Dorchester,” chipped Carol, as she let in the clutch and headed out of the car park. She could too, and as they came over the Ridgeway, Dorchester appeared before them, and off to the left was Maiden Castle.

“There it is.” Drew called from the back.

“Hey check this out, Gabs, there's some deer down there. Look in that field. Three of them.” Maddy was quite excited by her find.

Carol pulled in to a lay-by. “Right ,Maddy, where did you see them, I was too busy driving.”

They all got out of the car, and when safe crossed the road. Looking down towards the railway, they could see the three roe deer. The stream of traffic was constant behind them, “I wonder how many of this lot have seen them,” said Maddy, indicating the traffic behind.

“If the way they see cyclists is anything to go by, I'd say not many.”

“Oh, Gabs, there's more to life than cycling.”

“Like what?” came the response.

“Shopping!” Maddy sniped back.

“Come on kids, let's get back to the car.” Carol had to shout to be heard above the traffic, and one of the deer looked up at them.

They went on towards Dorchester, “Oh look, that's Prince Charles' village to the left of Dorchester. We'll drive around there later,” said an animated Carol. “Well, I'm blowed, that Maiden Castle place is opposite Tesco. I drove out here yesterday.”

It was true, the large supermarket was nearly opposite the turning for Maiden Castle, although the car park for the latter was a couple of miles further down the road. It's well signposted, and they found the car park with no bother. They parked and taking some thin jackets with them, set off to look over the hill fort.

“Hey, Auntie Carol, this place was trashed by the Romans in 54 AD, under General Vesuvius or something.”

“Gabs, I think it says Vespasian. He was a general who went on to become emperor, Vesuvius is a mountain isn't it?” corrected Maddy.

“Yeah, whatever.” They walked on up the footpath. “Watch out for the dog's doo-doos.” Which was sadly also true, many of the locals walk their dogs on Maiden Castle, not many of them clean up afterwards!

“Gosh, this is steeper than it looks,” panted Carol, she was struggling to keep up with her ‘daughters'. A man walking down with his labrador stopped to speak to her. “Those your two girls?”

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment as she caught her breath.

“Are they twins, they look uncannily similar?”

“No,” she panted, “no, they're not twins.”

“Amazing,” he said, “they're both stunners aren't they?”

“I think so,” returned Carol, wondering where this was going.

“Are you visiting the area?”

“Yes, just for the week.”

“There's a talk on Maiden Castle, tomorrow night at the County Museum, why not come along. It will be quite fun, not your dry as dust history stuff.”

“I don't know what we're doing yet,” said Carol defensively. “I'll mention it to the girls and see what they say.”

“Think about it anyway, 7.30 tomorrow. Bye.” With that, the stranger walked on down the hill.

“Come on, Mum,” yelled Maddy from the top of the ramparts. Then as Carol hastened on her way, she saw Gaby's skirt billow out and up over her head, as the wind caught it. This was followed by squeals from both girls.

The wind was fresh on the top, and Gaby spent the rest of the expedition holding her skirt at both sides, trying not to flash her knickers again. Maddy, of course, thought it was hilarious, doing a ‘Marilyn Monroe', as she called it.

Inside the inner rampart, they could make out the round marks of iron age roundhouses. They were able to see the defensive ditches and ramparts, which are massive. “Dad reckons they took half a million man-hours to dig the trenches between the ramparts,” said Gaby, trying not to take off in the fresh breeze.

“I'll bet it was cold up here in the winter,” said Maddy, pulling her thin jacket closer. They explored the remains of the Romano-British temple, and saw the remains of the bank barrow, apparently the longest known anywhere in the world, and Neolithic in origin. They saw the depression where the pond had been, which was thought to be an emergency water supply or dew pond. To the south, they could see the small stream known as the Winterbourne, from where water would have to be brought.

They were discussing how hard life would have been when Gaby shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don't think it would have been that bad.”

“Oh come off it, Gabs,” said Maddy, “growing your own crops, making your own clothes, keeping cattle and sheep. It would have been awfully hard work.”

“Nah, not really.”

“How can you say that, you dumb blonde?” quipped back an exasperated Maddy.

“'Cos Tesco is just across the road. I reckon the Romans probably stopped to fill up their chariots before attacking.” This was punctuated by Maddy chasing after Gaby, who fled the scene, both giggling like amused banshees.

Carol watched them go, smiling at their antics. Teenagers? they were like two ten-year-olds, but they were having such fun. Drew seemed fully recovered from his virus, his energy was improving and he hadn't coughed or spluttered since leaving home. Perhaps the trip was doing him some good.

She strolled her way back towards the car, following her two teenage charges as they continued to run about in the large open space. Somewhere, not far away she could hear a skylark, it reminded her of her youth. It made shivers run up and down her spine, but in a nice way. “Hmm,” she said to herself and hurried on after the girls.

When she got back to the car, they were both waiting for her, puffing and panting and red-faced. “Have a good time?”

They both shook their heads. “No, it was ‘orrible.” Then they fell about laughing.

'Teenagers!' thought Carol.

They bought ice creams from the van parked in the car park. “Who were you talking to on the way up?” asked Maddy.

“Some bloke who was asking if you were twins.” which caused snorts and sniggers from the ‘twins'. “He said there was a talk on in the museum tomorrow evening, all about Maiden Castle. Asked if we wanted to go.”

“What did you say?”

“Only that I'd have to ask you two. Why do you want to go?”

“Dunno, except Gabs could wear her new suit.”

Gaby stood open-mouthed, “Duh, like why?”

“Well, a girl has to look the part. So if you look smart, they might not think you're such a bimbo.”

“Hark who's talking, the original dumb blonde.”

“Girls, please, let's not have any unpleasantness,” said Carol firmly, at which both ‘girls' looked completely astonished. "Unpleasantness? This is just messing about, teenage-style."

They drove back through Poundbury, which is what Prince Charles' village is called. The locals often call it by other names, few of them flattering. Its architecture may be described as ‘late pretentious' and makes up in variety what it lacks in taste.

Carol's impressions were mixed, and there was a lovely fountain in a square, but otherwise, it seemed to have very little vibrancy about it, compared to Dorchester proper and Weymouth. There was something missing here, it felt like soul.

“We'll come into Dorchester on Wednesday, it's market day. Is that okay with you two?”

“Fine.”

“Yeah, kewl.”

Then it was home to make some dinner. Carol began to hatch a plan as she drove home.

“As it's my holiday too, how about someone else doing the meal tonight?”

There was silence from the back, except for the odd titter. “Well, who's going to volunteer?” Still nothing back except silly giggles.

All the way back she cajoled and schemed, but they weren't going to play. She pulled up in the drive. “Right, before we get out, one or both of you is going to get the meal this evening, it's nothing difficult. So who's going to do it?”

She surveyed the back seat, the two teens look at the floor, the doors, the interior roof of the car, even each other, but neither met her gaze. “Okay,” she said, “you can both do it.”

“Aw, Mum,” whined Maddy.

“Think of it as in house training, one day you may need to be able to feed yourself, if you go off to university or set up your own home, get married. You'll need to know how to cook. I've never made you do it enough at home, Maddy Peters, so today sounds like it may be a good thing. I know that Drew does a bit at home, especially with Jenny away, but that doesn't excuse you either."

“Aw, Aunt Carol, doesn't it? I cooked last week,” moaned Drew.

“No you didn't that was Drew, you're Gaby, his long lost cousin,” quipped Maddy.

“That's crap and you know it,” retorted Drew.

“Any more from you and I'll tell Paul the truth, and that you fancy him,” hissed Maddy in Drew's ear

“You wouldn't, you're bluffing.”

“What's his number on the speed dial.”

“Hey, that's my mobile.”

Maddy shot upstairs with Gaby in hot pursuit. Carol watched in disbelief, then listened as the hoof beats got slower, then silence, then squeals and giggles. She didn't need to go and see, they were having a tickling fight. She made herself a cuppa, waiting for it to finish before she insisted they made the meal. They would, she was certain of that, they just had to get used to the idea.

When the horseplay was over and things had calmed down, they did finally concede defeat and made the meal. It was a tuna pasta main course with side salad, there was some fresh fruit for dessert.

Maddy did the pasta while Drew prepared the salad. Carol opened the bottle of wine she'd brought with her, and sipped a glass with her meal. The dynamic duo had orange juice. She was avoiding fizzy drinks after hearing they encourage obesity. She was also boosting their vitamin C levels, which she believed helped with the immune system.

That evening, they all read. Gaby had found ‘Cat', a novel about the Tour de France, which was on the bookshelf and was devouring it. Maddy was reading one of her Japanese comic books. It kept them quiet, while Carol got into her whodunit and a second glass of wine.

The next morning, Gaby's legs were checked and looked much better. The swelling was down and the blisters were receding, another day and they'd be pretty well healed.

“Will I be able to wear jeans then?” asked Drew.

“In a day or two, I'd say. The blisters seem to be drying up. They'll probably peel, but they shouldn't hurt. Mind you the way you were running about in that skirt yesterday, tended to suggest they weren't hurting too much.”

“They don't feel too bad.”

“Good,” said Carol, and Gaby lowered the nightdress. “Right, off you get, showered and dressed, then we'll decide where we'll go today.”

After a quick spat over the hairdryer, both the dynamic duo appeared downstairs. Maddy had her jeans on, at which Drew was looking enviously. He was dressed in the new blue skirt and tee shirt, with his sneakers. A touch of makeup, probably by Maddy, and he looked as female as his cousin.

They were about to pick something on the map when the doorbell rang. “Who's that I wonder?” asked Carol quietly, "I'm not expecting callers." She left the girls and opened the front door, outside stood two teenage boys.

“Can I help you, boys?”

“Hello,” said the slightly larger of the two. “I'm William Bugler, this is my friend Harry. I'm Marge Bugler's grandson. She told us to come and invite your two daughters to the disco on Wednesday night, in the village hall.”

“Oh,” said Carol taken aback. How did she get out of this one? “Mrs Bugler, I presume is the lady who looks after this house?”

“Yeah, that's her, me gran.”

“I don't know if the girls want to go or not,” Carol was playing for time.

“Can we ask them?” asked William.

Unable to think of a reason why they shouldn't, she agreed. “You'd better come in. Girls, can you come here?” she called into the lounge. The ‘sisters' duly arrived and Gaby's stomach somersaulted up to her brain and back down again.

'Boys,” she thought, “are never good news. What do they want?'

“This is, Maddy, and this one is Gaby,” Carol said to the boys, “Girls, this is William and his friend Harry. They have something to ask of you?”

Drew felt this could only be something awful. If only he'd not had the accident, they could have had some fun with these boys, playing football or possibly getting hold of some bikes. Instead, he felt like he was being undressed by the boys eyes.

The boys were blushing and exchanged quick glances before William began his story. “Hi, look we're having a disco in the village hall on Wednesday night and we'd like to ask you to come with us.”

“Well actually, we came to ask if you'd like to go to it. If you did, we'd like to take you.” The words came from Harry, “Please say yes.”

Drew felt his stomach and brain swap places, or they would have done if they hadn't stuck in his throat. He glanced at Maddy who was thinking it over. This was not good news. If she said yes, he'd have to go as well unless he managed to murder her first and hide the body.

Then he had a brainwave. “We'd love to wouldn't we Mad, but we're going to that lecture thing on Maiden Castle.”

“Is that all that's stopping you?” asked Harry, with a glint in his eye.

“Yeah, course. Isn't it, Mad?”

“I dunno, is it, Gabs?” Maddy, to whom he looked for support, seemed strangely diffident.

“Well that's good news then,” said Harry. Drew felt a sense of doom approaching. “ "Cos, the lecture's tonight and the disco is tomorrow. We're going to both, so if you want to come with us, my dad's taking us. See you about quarter to seven, we'll collect you. Bye.”

They watched the boys walk down the drive, Harry jumped up and punched the air, like Tim Henman on steroids. Then high-fived with his pal.

“Well, that was real clever, Gabs. We've got Pinky and Perky for two nights now,” said Maddy. Carol said nothing, she was concentrating on Drew's face, and trying not to relax her pelvic floor muscles or laugh. Her bladder was giving signals not to make any sudden movements, but it was so funny. The look on Drew's face was priceless. He hadn't shot himself in the foot, he managed to nail the other one to the floor while he was at it. ‘Damn' she thought, 'I'll have to go and wee or I'll wet myself.'

“What are we going to do?” asked a horrified Drew.

“Well, Gabs, I'm gonna stay here and eat grass, but you'd better brace yourself,” answered Maddy.

“What?”

“Paul's joke remember about the two blokes in a pantomime cow's outfit walking across a field when the bull charged.”

“What joke?”

“It's what the bloke in front says to the one at the back. Oh never mind, I thought it was appropriate.”

“But I can't go to some dance with a local dork. What if he finds out?”

“Pity you didn't have your falsies with you.”

“Some comfort you are.”

“It's you with the big feet and even bigger mouth.”

“I know, I know, don't keep on about it.” He paused, “Can't we say, I had to go home suddenly and my cousin came instead.”

“I think they might notice you looked remarkably like your cousin and work it out.”

“I could get my hair cut short.”

“You'd look like Sinead O'Connor then.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Decide what you're gonna wear. Me, I'm going to phone Jules and get her to express mail your boobs and some glue.”

“What?”

“If they get here in time, you might just stay alive until Thursday morning.”

“What?”

“Invented the steam engine.”

“Oh very funny. What difference is getting my falsies going to make?”

“We are going to a disco, remember, Gaby has been to one before, she decked Paul, remember?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well if you are dancing with Harry, and he comes anywhere near you, I suspect he will notice the difference between socks and the real thing. Your falsies are quite close to the real thing, at least through a bra. So we need to get them pronto. I'm going to call Jules, unless you want to.”

“No.” He sat down despondently in a chair, slumped would be more accurate. Close examination would reveal tears were forming in the lightly made-up eyes.

Maddy had no time to notice, she'd taken his phone and was even now talking to Jules, or Juliet as his sister was called. “Anything else?” asked Jules.

“Have a quick look in the wardrobe for something suitable for her to wear to this thing. I don't know how good it'll be, but the boys think they've pulled, big time.”

“Whoops!” laughed Juliet down the phone.

“You should have seen her face when she thought she was being so clever. I nearly died. Mum had to rush off to the toilet, she nearly wet herself.”

“Right, I best get down to the post office double-quick. I'll see what I can do re the dress, if not you'll have to buy something down there.”

“Yeah, we'll manage. Cheers, Jules.”

“Bye, Mad.”

“Cheer up, droopy drawers, Jules is putting your naughty bits in the post, including that gaffe thing.” She walked over to Drew, who was silently weeping, and rubbed his hair, she felt him relax under her touch. A bit predictable, but she loved him for it, it also gave her a certain amount of control over him, which she tried not to abuse.

“Love you, you big girl's blouse,” she whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

Drew Goes South Chapter 3 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)
“What have I done?” said Gaby, looking fit to burst into tears. “Whatever I do lately seems to go wrong.”

“No it doesn't. You tried to do what you thought was best.” Maddy said softly, trying to comfort her cousin, still gently stroking his head.

“But it wasn't was it? I dropped us in it, instead.”

“It doesn't matter. It's only for a couple of evenings. It's not like you agreed to marry him or anything.”

“Marry him? Yuck!” Gaby made gestures with her fingers down her throat.

“That isn't really very becoming, young lady, and if you do throw up in here, you will have to clean it up and apologise to Mrs Bugler, including telling her how you came to do it.”

Gaby went white for a moment, then blushed, then looked at the floor. “Sorry Auntie Carol.”

“Okay, apologies accepted. Right, where are we going today?”

Gaby felt like saying, ‘Warsop', but that would be totally giving up on things, and that wasn't her or Drew's way of operating at all. She took after her mum, and she was a champion in her own right.

They were just about to explore the map and look for somewhere different, when the phone rang. Carol went off to answer it. The terrible twins could hear her talking, then she stopped and came back into the room.

“That was the two boys again.”

“Are they cancelling?” piped Gaby, hoping that the gods were favouring her for a change.

“No.”

“Bugger!”

“That's enough of that Gaby Bond,” said Carol, then smiling added, “they wanted to know if you want to go biking with them, apparently you can hire a bike in Dorchester.”

“I don't know.” Gaby seemed unusually quiet.

“Were you listening Gabs, Mum used the ‘B' word, and it's a four letter one.”

Mad enthused trying to cheer up the wet blanket her cousin had become.

“I don't know. I can't go in a skirt and besides, hire bikes are usually crap.”

“You can borrow my shorts, and we can at least go and see.”

“I don't know.”

“Well I do. Mum can you take me into Dorchester to this bike shop, I want to go for a bike ride, if Miss Misery doesn't want to come, then she can stay at home with you.”

“If you want. What about you, Gaby? Don't let her force you into anything you don't want to do.”

“I suppose it won't hurt to go and look.”

“Well done, Gabs,” said Maddy hugging her. “Let's go and change.”

Ten minutes later, they set off for Dorchester, and ‘ Dorchester Cycles ' in particular. Not long after, Carol managed to park practically outside, and they went into the shop.

“Can I help you, ladies?” said a smiling young man.

“Yes, I'd like to hire two bikes for the girls for a couple of days.”

“Fine, let's see what we've got in stock in your sizes.” He led them off to the rear of the shop. “Have you done much cycling?”
“
A bit,” answered a relatively quiescent Gaby. At this, Maddy nearly choked, bursting out laughing.

“Something funny?” said the young man defensively.

“I think, I'd better tell you who her mum is.” Said Maddy. The shop assistant just stood expectantly. “Have you heard of Jenny Bond?”

“You mean the ladies world champion?”

“That's the one. This is her daughter, Gaby.”

“That's where I've seen you before, in the Cycling Weekly.”

“You read the comic do you?” asked Gaby, still rather quiet.

“It's practically compulsory here. Let me get the boss.”

He returned triumphantly, with an older man and a young woman. “Guess who her mum is?”

“How would I know?” said the older man. Then to the three customers, “Sorry about this, ladies, he gets these attacks.”

Gaby, thinking of the Ronnie Barker comedy series. 'Open All Hours' , began to smile. All she needed now, was for his name to be Granville, and she probably laugh herself sick.

“If I say her surname is Bond, now can you guess?”

“Bond? Like James Bond?” said the man.

“Her mother, not her father,” urged the younger one.

“Bond. There's only Jenny Bond, the world champion.”

“That's my mother,” sighed Gaby.

“I think we've got her photo upstairs. Pleased to meet you anyway. How can we help.”

“We want to hire a couple of bikes,” said Carol, “for the girls.”

“Right, Gary, see what we've got available, there's a couple of Giants out there.”

Gaby had begun to feel happier and was looking at the stock for sale in the shop, they were mainly Treks. “Can I interest you in one of these, young lady? They're good enough for Lance Armstrong.”

“They're nice bikes.”

“I might be able to offer you a decent discount, after your mother won the Tour Femina and then the Worlds, we sold a fair number of road bikes.”

“I think she has enough already,” said Carol, interrupting the hard sell, “she already has about five bikes. She races.”

“Oh,” said the man, “I'm afraid the hire bikes are mountain bikes, does that matter.”

“No, mountain bikes are fine,” allowed Gaby, “did you say they were Giants?”

“I think so. Where is that boy?” At this Gaby looked at Maddy, who picked up immediately what her cousin was thinking, and they both struggled to resist giggling.

The boy appeared with two nearly new bikes. These should be about right for size, I think.”

“Looks like it said the older man. Those the new stock?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at Carol. “I think we could cut a deal here,” he said, Carol immediately felt a bit dubious. “If you were happy for me to take a few photos of ….”

“Gaby.”

“Yeah, Gaby. Well a few pix of Gaby riding one of our bikes, which we could display in the shop, you know, ‘Jenny Bond's daughter uses our bikes when she's in Dorset'. That sort of thing.”

“I don't know.”

“If you were to allow it, then I would loan you the bikes for your stay here, free of charge. I'd naturally need some ID and a credit card number, just in case they were lost or something, but otherwise it wouldn't cost you a thing save a few minutes.”

“What do you think, Gabs?” asked Carol, not prepared to do anything against Gaby's wishes.

“I suppose it would be just for the shop, and it would save you a few pounds.”

“Which we might need for your dress for the disco,” added Maddy.

Gaby shot Mad a look that would normally cause spontaneous human combustion.

“Oh, alright then,” she said more of resignation than enthusiasm.

Umpteen digital shots were taken outside the front of the shop, with a small crowd gathering to watch what was happening. It dispersed, soon after. “That's brilliant. I'll run you off a copy of each for when you bring the bikes back.”

Carol went in to do the paper work and Gaby and Maddy, went off around the block to try the bikes. They were fine, 24 speed Shimano gears, all terrain tyres, with some suspension in the front forks. They would do, and at last a bit of Drew began to surface, albeit well disguised.

“What do you want to do? Ride back or shall I borrow a bike rack, they did offer.”

“I think we can find our way back, it's only a couple of miles,” said Maddy, much to Drew's amazement.

“Here are your helmets. I'll see you back at the cottage then. Take the key, I'm going to the supermarket up the road. “

They bid her goodbye, and set off for the cottage. The bikes went well and despite the one sizeable hill, they were back in no more than a quarter of an hour. They had barely got in when they heard the phone ringing. Maddy went to answer it.

“I told the boys we'd see them after lunch. They're coming by at two.”

“I hope you know what you're doing,” said Gaby.

“I think we can control a couple of boys between us, we do have the advantage of being girls.”

“You might.”

“Come on, Gabs, it'll be fun.”

“Yeah, like going to the dentist.”

“You've got good teeth.”

“Don't change the subject.”

“I thought you liked our dentist.”

“Only ‘cos he comes to work on a Marin.”

“You and your precious bikes.” They both turned as they heard the car come down the drive. “Here's Mum.”

“It's nearly twelve, I suppose we could have lunch early, it would enable it to go down before you went off on the bikes, and you young lady,” she said referring to Gaby, “remember, the boys are expecting to ride with two girls, so don't go mad.”

“I'm Gaby, she's Mad,” said Gaby smiling, “besides, Mad rides competitively these days, so if they can't keep up, they can't.”

“I despair,” Carol sighed, then changing the subject, said, “What are you wearing to this talk tonight?”

“I hadn't thought about it.”

“Wear the grey, Gabs. It'll look great.”

“It appears my wardrobe adviser has decided,” Gaby said in as posh a voice as she could.

“And what are you wearing under the jacket, just a bra and socks?” quipped Carol.

“Oh hell, we need the blouse you wore yesterday,” panicked Maddy. She suddenly shot upstairs followed by Gaby.

Carol smiled as she went into the kitchen, and the smile turned into a laugh as she emptied the washing machine. She knew where it was, Maddy as usual, was better at dirtying things than washing them.

Upstairs, things were going from frantic to frenzied. “It's here somewhere, I know it is,” she muttered as she poked about in cases and bags. “Where did you leave it Gabs?”

“I put it with the washing.”

“No, I said, where did you leave it?”

“I told you, I put it with the washing.”

“But you never put dirty clothes in the washing at home.”

“I was trying to be helpful.”

“Where's the washing. God, someone has taken it. Where is it?”

“I think I know,” answered Gaby, looking out the bedroom window.

“Where, Miss Clever-dick?” Then following her cousins gaze, saw her mother hanging stuff on the line. “Grrr, I hate it when you're right.” With that, she grabbed her cousin and instigated a tickling fight. By the time Carol had finished hanging the washing on the line, two exhausted teenagers were lying on Gaby's bed.

“Are you really okay about this afters? ‘Cos if you're not, we could cancel,” Maddy was beginning to have second thoughts.

“Nah, it'll be okay. I need some exercise anyway.”

“Just remember we're out for a jaunt, not a training run.”

“I know, I know, I'm not completely stupid.”

“That isn't how it looked earlier on,” said Maddy, followed by something which sounded like “Ooph!” Which is exactly the sort of noise most people make when hit by a pillow.

Lunch came and went, and minutes before two o'clock, the door bell rang. “The boys are punctual, I hope they are as well disciplined in other respects,” thought Carol as she opened the door.

Five minutes afterwards, all four of the teenagers set off on their bikes. “We thought we could go out towards Clouds Hill.”

“Wassat?” asked Gaby.

“It was T.E Lawrence's house.”

“Who?”

“Lawrence of Arabia?”

“Yeah, I saw the film.”

“Well it's his house. He's buried in the churchyard at Moreton.”

“What about his camel?”

“He was knocked off his motorbike not a camel.”

“I was just checking.”

“Do you want to go off into Puddletown Forest or stick to the roads?”

“We don't mind,” said Maddy, refusing to be left out of the conversation.

“Let us know if you get tired,” said Harry, trying to be the gentleman, “or if we're going too fast.”

“We will,” said Gaby sweetly, stifling an evil chuckle.

“I heard that, Gabs,” hissed Maddy, “behave yourself.” Gaby chuckled again by way of reply.

The roads, which were really country lanes, weren't too busy with traffic, nor were they too hilly, so the party made a comfortable progress, Gaby and Mad riding well within themselves.

“You ride pretty well,” said Harry to Maddy.

“Thanks, we ride a bit back home when the polar bears and the Eskimos let us.”

“How far north do you live then?”

“Near Nottingham.”

“Robin Hood country.”

“Yeah, but he's been dead a couple of years now.”

“Like Lawrence?”

“Yeah,” said Maddy.

They stopped to look quickly at Lawrence's grave, then went on towards the Tank Museum at Bovington. “Lawrence used to work there until he was killed.”

“What's Monkey World?” asked Gaby as they passed the sign.

“It's a place where they take monkeys and apes, like a sanctuary. It's quite good, they have all sorts in there. Chimps and Orang-utans, plus lots of smaller monkeys.”

“You've been there then?” asked Maddy.

“Yes,” said Harry.

“We had to smuggle him out, they wanted to keep him,” called William.

“That's very funny coming from a chimp like you,” shouted Harry in reply, then went whizzing past to take the lead. Of course no one passes Gaby and lives, so she shot off after him, hotly pursued by Maddy and William who brought up the rear.

Realising that Gaby was right behind him, Harry made the mistake of thinking he would just push the pace a little more. He did and she was still just behind him. They turned up quite a steep hill, and Harry had to change down a couple of times, he could almost feel Gaby's breath on his back. “Shit,” he thought to himself, “she's better at this than I thought.”

His pace began to drop, and as he looked around Gaby flew past him up the hill, he nearly fell off his bike. Maddy, soon caught him up and passed him as well, calling, “See you up the top.” Harry looked behind him, William was struggling even more than he was.

The girls were nowhere to be seen, when William called, “That was bloody clever, showing off like that.”

“How was I to know they were Supergirl and Wonder Woman?”

The two girls were sat on a seat in a lay-by at the top of the hill. “Hi,” they shouted, “don't we know you from somewhere?.”

The boys pulled over, puffing and panting. “Where….puff…..pant…. did…puff …you…..pant….learn ….to ride…like that?”

“Gaby's National Junior Hill-climb Champion,” said Maddy, with an element of smugness.

“You are joking?” said a rather sheepish looking Harry.

“Fraid not," said Maddy with a beaming smile.

“Don't tell me, you came runner up?” said an embarrassed William.

“No, I'll stick to road racing.”

“You're not a champion at that are you?”

“No, but she's pretty good,” quipped Gaby, before Maddy offered them any more data which could be checked and give the game away.

“Do you race too?” asked William to Gaby, “I mean, apart from riding up mountains?”

“A bit,” she cut Maddy off with a glance not seen by the boys.

“I'll bet you are pretty good, judging by the way you left me for dead,” said Harry.

“Surprise is always useful. You didn't know anything about me, I could tell by the way you ride that you don't race. I could have taken you at any time, but gave you a chance to prove me wrong. You didn't, so I overtook you. I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” said Harry, “you can overtake me anytime.”

Deciding to treat the remark with the contempt it deserved, Gaby simply said, “Where next?”

From then on, she and Maddy led, setting a pace which had the boys struggling to stay in sight of them, let alone in touch. They followed the signs to Dorchester, and turned off for their village. Once the village was in sight, Gaby turned on the power and was home five minutes before Maddy, who in turn was back ten minutes before the boys, who nearly fell off their bikes at the end.

The girls were standing with a tray of drinks, by the time the boys got back. “Where shall we go tomorrow then?” asked Gaby, while Maddy smiled into her drink of orange squash.

The boys, with aching and tired limbs eventually left, promising to come back for six forty-five to go to the talk at the Dorset County Museum, on Maiden Castle.

Meanwhile, the girls had a snack and then fought over who got the shower first. Maddy won that one.

At six-thirty, they were all ready, well Maddy was putting the finishing touches to Gaby's makeup. “It's about time you learned how to do this yourself,” she said putting the top back on the pale pink lipstick.

“No way,” said an unmistakable Drew.

“Why not?”

“Each time you con me into this, I swear it'll be the last.”

“But there's part of you which enjoys it isn't there?”

“No.”

“What not even the fooling of people like Pinky and Perky?”

“Well alright, a little bit.”

“See, I knew you enjoyed it a bit, and you like the cheerleading.”

“That's different.”

“What's different, apart from the skirts are shorter.”

“I enjoy the workout, it's good training.”

“Except you wear a bra and a short skirt.”

“You know what I mean.”

Carol appeared, “they're here. Gosh, you two look like a million dollars.”

“What all green and wrinkled?” joked Maddy.

“No silly, you both look stunning.” They did too. Gaby was in the grey suit with the white blouse. Legs brown from cycling were bare, and she wore the shoes they'd bought to match, together with the little grey bag. Maddy, wore a red striped dress, with a sweetheart neck, black shoes and bag. Carol wore a pair of linen trousers and beige cardigan.

The driver, whom they took to be William's dad rang the bell. “Hi,” he said, “I'm Geoff Bugler.”

Carol shook hands with him, “Carol Peters, my daughter Maddy and my niece Gaby Bond.” They all smiled at each other. They got to his Toyota people carrier; inside were the boys with William's mother, Joyce. They were all introduced then set off for the museum.

“You girls look very smart,” said Joyce Bugler.

Maddy said, “Thanks”, while Gaby blushed.

“You look like twins, don't they Geoff?”

“A pair of crackers, eh boys?”

“Do they get taken as such often, Carol?”

“Sometimes, depends on what they're wearing.”

Gaby smiled inwardly at this remark, thinking, “Yeah it doesn't happen if I'm in Drew clothes,” although it did, he just preferred to ignore it. If you're on the small side, pretty with longish blond hair, many people will assume you are a girl, even in boy's togs. This was Drew's dilemma, he knew it in his heart, but his way of dealing with it was to pretend it wasn't the case. Ignore it and it will go away. In that regard, he was a typical boy.

While he was in the shower, he examined his genitals. He was small there too, his testicles were very small, and his willie wasn't much to shout about. He remembered how he once managed to get practically everything to push back into his body. Out of curiosity, he tried it again. It happened again. It felt strange, but not uncomfortable. He finished showering, towelled dry, and his genitalia had not popped out again. He sprinkled a covering of talc over his whole body, including his groin. It was all still hidden.

He pulled on the knickers they'd bought the day before and the matching bra. He looked in the mirror tiles which made up the bathroom wall. Even without the padding in the bra, he looked like a girl. With no bulge in his knickers, he definitely looked female. From behind, his bum stuck out like a young woman's. This was scary, but of course, it was just the effect of the knickers. In boxers, he'd look as butch as any man. Yeah, just believe it, and it will come true if it isn't already.

He went into the bedroom and Maddy completed the transformation, padding the bra with socks, passing him the clothes he was to wear. She noticed without saying how feminine his movements were as he dressed. She knew he was a boy and she loved him to bits, but no one else would believe it if they saw him like this. It didn't matter to her, she loved him just as much as a girl, perhaps because she knew he was really a boy. She didn't know, and right now she wasn't going to dwell upon it. Whatever happened, it would eventually work itself out, life always did. She knew he was crazy about her too, so between them, they'd be okay. Things would work out, but at this moment he looked like a girl and a very pretty one.

Geoff Bugler managed to park his people carrier in a car park not far from the museum. They simply had to walk up the steps by Waitrose, along the top end of South Street, and cross over High West Street. The Museum was right opposite the pelican crossing they used. It's a Victorian gothic design, but in keeping with the other buildings alongside it, amongst which is the part timbered ‘Judge Jeffreys', now a restaurant, but once the lodgings of the fearsome Lord Chief Justice.

They went in, and Geoff Bugler insisted on paying the nominal entry fees to the talk. As they were selecting their seats, they were spotted by the man whom they'd met on Maiden Castle, he smiled and waved to Carol.

“I see you know all the right people,” said Joyce to Carol.

“What d'you mean? I bumped into him on Maiden Castle. Who is he?”

“He's Dorian Guy, a local expert on Thomas Hardy, he used to lecture at Bournemouth University on archaeology and history, I think. He's on the committee here, if he's doing the talk, it'll be very good. Geoff will know, damn, he's talking to someone up the back.” She motioned for him to come over to them, but he just waved and carried on talking. “Men!” she sighed.

The curator of the museum acted as chair of the meeting, he introduced Dorian Guy, who as a practiced speaker had them all enthralled with tales of Maiden Castle from five thousand years ago to the present.

He told them tales based on the archaeological evidence, he showed them slides, he showed them artefacts; he told them tales of local folklore and ghost stories. He spoke for an hour and a half and no one noticed the time. They were all enthralled, bound to the magic of this champion orator, hanging on his every word. When he stopped, they burst into tumultuous applause.

“That was so good, I enjoyed every moment of it,” said Carol, stretching. Her two charges nodded their agreement. The boys came around, to ask how they liked it.

“If we sneak upstairs to the archaeology gallery, I'll show you the body with the ballista bolt in its spine,” whispered a conspiratorial William. With that, the four teenagers sneaked away towards the stairs and stole up them.

The boys knew the museum very well, and where the aforementioned exhibit was. “Oh that's gross,” said Maddy, when they showed her the skeletal remains of a body presumed to be an iron age native, who was found with the bolt lodged in his spine. It almost certainly killed him, and it was definitely Roman in origin.

“So, he was killed by Julius Caesar?” asked Gaby.

“No, he was years before. He was killed by one of Vespasian's troops firing a giant crossbow thing. It was the Roman equivalent of a heavy machine gun.”

“Kew,” said Gaby.

“Well I think it's gross. Why couldn't they leave the poor man in his grave?” challenged Maddy, “I mean, you lie there for nearly two thousand years and then some bloke with a trowel comes along and digs you up. No wonder it's supposed to be haunted.”

“I've been up there at night and didn't see any ghosts,” chipped in Harry, “Personally, I don't believe in such things.”

“I don't know. I like to keep an open mind,” said Maddy. “What do you think, Gaby?”

“I see my gran all the time,” said Gaby, shivering. The two boys looked on in slight alarm.

“Do you?” asked William, his eyes wide in incredulity.

“Course she does, her gran lives in Cheshire,” said Maddy, and they all laughed.

“Hey you lot, you'd better come on down, we're going in a minute.” The voice belonged to William's dad.

They rejoined the adults, who decided they were going for a drink on the way home. The venue was the Thomas Hardy , a pub named after Admiral Sir Thomas Hardy, who was Nelson's flagship captain, not the Victorian novelist. The pub provided a beer garden, so while the olds talked and drank, the youngsters were able to move about outside.

William pointed out Max Gate , an Edwardian monstrosity, now run by the National Trust, which was built and occupied by Thomas (the novelist) Hardy OM. “He was a miserable old git, whose books are full of people who die in horrible circumstances or live to be old and even more miserable.”

Both girls pulled faces at this summation of the ‘great man's' works. “Apparently the Yanks and the Japs, think he's wunnerful,” said William, using a deliberately exaggerated, and very phoney American accent.

“Yeah, they have like conferences every year, to discuss like, the finer points of his stories," confirmed Harry.

The visitors were absorbed in this tale of foreign adoration, of someone they'd barely heard of. “It's true, you see groups of ‘em standing outside Barclay's Bank in South Street. It's supposed to be where the Mayor of Casterbridge lived. I ask you, how dumb can you get. How can some character from a book ‘live' anywhere?”

“Yeah, like super dumb,” agreed Gaby, “when did Nelson ask to kiss him?”

“He didn't,” said an astonished Harry.

“I always thought Nelson said, ‘Kiss me, Hardy.”

“So they say.”

“So why would he want to kiss some miserable old fart, who wrote dismal stories? Was he, you know, a bit of a…….”

Maddy nearly choked on her glass of cola. “I think you have the wrong Thomas, Gabs. To start with, Nelson died in 1805 at Trafalgar.”

“Yeah, they brought his body home pickled in a barrel of brandy,” added William.

“Yuck,” said Gaby, “I don't like brandy.”

“My dad does,” said William, “he goes over to France once or twice a year and buys loads of it.”

“Isn't that expensive?” asked Maddy.

“Not really, the ferry runs from Weymouth or Poole, they just go for a day trip, a booze cruise, they call it. Apparently, the taxes in France are less than here.”

“Seems a waste of money to me,” said Gaby, thinking of the time she got tiddly at a sleepover with Jules' friends, and they did silly dares and things. “I'd rather spend my dosh on CDs or clothes.” (and not these silly girl clothes) she thought, but didn't say.

“Well I think it's money well spent,” said Harry.

“What on booze?” asked an alarmed Gaby.

“No the clothes thing. I think you look very nice.” He looked her in the eye as he said it.

“What this old thing?” replied a blushing teenager, who refused eye contact, rather gazing at the floor, while Maddy, for the second time that evening, nearly choked on her cola.

“I think Harry fancies you,” said Maddy to Gaby, when they went upstairs.

“Don't be silly, he must be blind, or stupid.” There was bluster in the voice but it didn't quite carry the resonance it required to be congruent with the sentiment. “Anyone can see I'm a boy.”

“Not from where I'm standing,” replied Maddy, “but I still love you. Gi's a hug.” They hugged each other for several moments, Maddy looked into the eyes of the boy she loved, even though they were laden with mascara and eye-shadow. She watched a tear form.

“Do I really look like a girl?” asked Drew desperately trying to hang on in there.

“At the moment you do, but then that's my genius in choosing your clothes and doing your make up,” lied a doting girlfriend, fighting back the lump in her throat which was threatening to make her voice crack

“Yeah, course it is.” The tremor in the voice showed an element of strain that belied the statement. Both knew they were denying the truth, trying to support the other. That is one of the tricks that love plays, and they did love each other, as only teenagers can.

Then Maddy kissed Gaby, or she was kissing the boy who was fast disappearing inside. Drew kissed her back, then he felt a surging in his loins and a sudden pain, he squeaked.

“What's wrong?” asked a concerned Maddy.

“I need to go to the toilet quick.” He excused himself and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He desperately pulled up his skirt and his knickers down, then whimpering slightly as he manipulated his penis inside his body, it finally popped back out with a sharp pain. “Jeez, that hurt,” he squeaked to himself, “I won't do that again in a hurry.”

“You all right in there?” asked a voice behind the door.

“Yeah, be out in a minute.”

Drew Goes South Chapter 4 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The sun was shining through a chink in the curtains, right on to Drew's face. He woke; looking at the clock he saw it was only half-past five. He'd spent a troubled night, worrying about the dance and Maddy's observation that Harry fancied him. Well, Harry actually fancied Gaby, unaware of the truth of the matter.

Normally, Drew would just turn over and return to his normal comatose state at that hour, but today he decided that he needed to mull things over, and he did that best on a bicycle. Using the shorts he'd borrowed from Maddy yesterday, and the same top, but using a sweater he'd actually remembered to pack of his own, he dressed and slipped downstairs.

He let himself out and taking the hire bike from the garage, rode off after putting on his helmet. He'd had enough accidents and near misses to know how essential they are even for short journeys.

He had no idea where to go but just went off along some lanes. He found himself skirting around Dorchester on its by-pass. There was lots of traffic here, especially the larger variety and he'd wished he'd planned a route. He had no identifiers on him either, so if he had an accident, life could be difficult especially for Carol, who wouldn't know where he was.

The by-pass was punctuated by roundabouts, and although this brought its own danger, it at least enabled him to get off the major road system and back on the lanes. He reckoned he'd been riding for about twenty minutes and without his computer wasn't sure what sort of speed or distance he'd covered.

Blessed with a reasonable sense of direction, he was able to head back towards the village where they were staying. In doing so he found a good hill to attack and flew at it. By the time he got over it, he was sweating and his lungs and heart were working flat out, but it felt good. He was alive and in full working order again.

He eased off as he came back into the village and back to the cottage. It was only half-past six, and he hadn't entirely resolved his dilemma. He had to tell Maddy that he wasn't going to the dance, nor was he going to play a girl any longer. If that freaked everybody out, that was too bad.

He decided some breakfast would help his cause, so he put the kettle on for a cuppa and made himself some cereal. It was cornflakes today, but that would do. If necessary, he could always have some toast as well.

He was just about finished eating, waiting for the tea to brew when a voice behind him made him jump. “Hi Gabs, I wondered where you'd gone.”

“I went for a ride, it looked a nice morning.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Was okay, prefer my own bike and knowing the roads a bit better, but it was okay.”

Life is what happens in between our plans, and Drew's plans were about to be challenged. “Is there enough tea for me too?”

“Should be,” he said as he poured two mugs.

“Give me a hug, Gabs.”

He was about to argue about his identity when he got ‘Maddied'. This was essentially being wrapped up in a monster hug, followed by a kiss that separated his body from his mind. He shot straight up into the stratosphere flew about in the jet stream for a moment before plunging back down to earth.

“I love you, Gaby girl,” whispered Maddy as she kissed him again.

“I love you too,” he managed to get out before she kissed him again.

“Will you wear the blue skirt today, and I'll wear my denim one, so we'll kind of match.”

“Sure,” he said before his brain caught up with his mouth. “Shit,” was what it said, but to himself.

“I know what I want us to wear to the disco tonight,” said an excited Maddy.

“What?” he said, feeling his resolve sinking through the quicksand upon which he seemed to have built it.

“You'll have to wait and see, but it'll be worth it,” she flirted with him.

Now he felt a bit crestfallen, but he did what he always did in these situations, grinned and bore it. Life was like that, a blessed nuisance.

They made Carol a coffee and some toast and took it up to her.

“Maddy's up to something,” was her reaction. It was now nearly eight and Drew managed to get into the shower first. Well, he'd won a small victory there.

Alas, he didn't hear the doorbell, nor Maddy accept the parcel from the postman, so when he stepped out of the bathroom, with just a towel around his waist, he was the perfect target for two freshly glued breast forms.

He started to protest, but it was too late. He felt the coolness on his warm body and Maddy smiled, “That looks a bit more like my Gabs.” Then she smothered him in another of her knee-trembling kisses.

The breast forms felt cool and alien, but he was unable to concentrate on that part of his body. With Maddy's kisses another was becoming aroused, and it was not very comfortable. In fact, it hurt.

He detached himself from his amorous cousin, and rushed back into the bathroom, “Sorry need a wee.”

“You all right, Gabs?”

“Yeah,” he called back, while he wrapped a cold wet flannel around his painful manhood. He had difficulty in seeing what he was doing with the mounds now hanging from his chest. “Bloody things, why couldn't she wait for a moment.” He muttered to himself. The pain eased as the tumescence decreased. There was nothing to see, well as far as he could see, and passing urine wasn't a problem. There was no blood. So what had happened?

Basically, as long as he didn't get aroused, things were fine. Moving the towel to a more girlish position, he came out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. Maddy was busy looking through the package.

“What you looking for?”

“It doesn't appear to be here, so it looks as if she hasn't sent any.”

“Any what?”

“The solvent for your boobs.”

“You are joking.”

“No,” said an embarrassed Maddy.

“So how am I supposed to get out of these?” Drew pointed at his chest.

“I don't know. We'll have to get some.”

“Where? There's nowhere here likely to sell it.”

“Well, I'll ask Jules to send some down.”

“Just when I think I'm free of Gaby, she bulldozes through my life again.”

“You get dressed, I'll call Jules.”

Naturally, the bras fitted better, so did the top, hinting at a bit of cleavage but not exposing too much. The skirt of course fitted well anyway. He put on the sneakers, knowing Maddy would probably wear hers. However, it was all an effort. Dressing as a boy took seconds, as a girl, it seemed to take all day. Or it did for him. These things on his chest seemed to get in the way of everything. It was probably alright if you grew them yourself, that way you'd sort of get acclimatised. But to have sprouted them in a few seconds, well that was something else!

Maddy had dressed and combed her hair by the time he'd got his shoes on. She bounced in, with her comb and makeup bag. “Oh that looks better,” she said smiling at him.

“You are beginning to worry me,” he retorted.

“Eh? What are you talking about?”

“You seem to prefer me as a girl.” She could see tears welling in his eyes.

She gave him another of her special hugs, “Oh you silly thing. I love you. I don't care if you're a boy or a girl or one of those monkey things, William was on about. I love you.”

“So why did you say I looked better then?”

“Because you do, your clothes hang better. That's all I meant.”

“Oh, I see. That's all is it?”

“Gabs, of course, it is. Honestly.”

“Alright, I believe you. Did you manage to get hold of Jules?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“The reason she didn't send any was there wasn't any to send. The bottle was empty. Apparently, the lid wasn't tightly screwed on and it had evaporated or leaked out somehow.”

“You mean I am stuck like this?”

“Quite literally, until we can get some more solvent.” Maddy smiled back, feeling rather embarrassed.

“Oh great! I don't know why I bother trying to be a boy at all, it might be easier to do the same as Em, just go with the flow.”

“Well if you did, I'd still love you.”

“I was being ironic, or sarcastic or something.”

“I knew that, Gabs, I was just stating my position.” She had hold of both his hands. “We are in this together, come what may,” she held his gaze in her eyes, “Agreed?”

His throat felt choked. Life was conspiring against him as usual. It always did unless he was on a bike, and then he could fight back and sometimes win. He wasn't on a bike now, this was emotional stuff, and boys don't do emotions, so why did he feel so emotional? He tried to say,” yes,” but the words couldn't get past his throat. He looked deep into Maddy's eyes, drawn into them, he felt tears in his own. She wrapped him in another of her hugs. 'What would he do without her?' That was a question he hoped he never had to ask, let alone answer.

“You two ready yet?” called Carol from downstairs.

“No, got to do Gaby's hair.”

“Hurry up then.”

They did as they were told, a quick touch of makeup, and Maddy made Gaby do her own lips, a squirt of smellies, and they were ready.

Dorchester market, claims to be the biggest in the southwest, and it is pretty big, especially in the summer. The traders come from as far afield as Birmingham, but they aren't all Brummies wearing turbans, there are quite a few locals as well, selling all sorts of things, clothes, food, fast food, pet food, plant food, plants and gardening stuff, watches and jewellery, computer bits, books, cards, underwear, shoes – you name it, somebody probably sells it.

Consequently, the queues to get into the town, and then for parking can be rather long. There is an overflow car park at Tesco/football ground, with a park and ride bus. Carol had spotted this and even with limited knowledge of the geography, had managed to subvert most of the queues. It only took them half an hour, to get to Dorchester and to park by Dorchester Town FC.

They decided to walk rather than wait for the bus, as the road was quite congested, and it was a pleasantly warm day. They strolled up the hill towards the market and town centre, crossing the railway line, Gaby spotted a field with a large mound in it. “What do you reckon Maumbury Rings are?” she asked Carol and Maddy.

“Dunno,” replied Mad, and Carol shrugged her shoulders. “Shall we go and see?” They all agreed.

“Wow,” said Gaby as she walked beyond the end of the large green bank. “Look, an info board, like Maiden Castle.” She read quickly, if not always accurately. “It was a stone-age hinge monument.”

“It says henge, not hinge.”

“So what, it was like Stonehenge. Where's all the hippies then?”

“Very funny,” quipped Maddy, “fed to the lions I expect.”

“What?”

“Well the Romans turned it into an amphitheatre, then it was a gun emplacement during the Civil War, and it was used for public executions after that, the last woman burnt to death here was Mary Channing for murdering her husband.”

“Ooh-er. That doesn't sound very nice. I'm sure they wouldn't do that in Warsop,” said Gaby, looking less happy to be there.

“They would have in those days,” said Carol, “times were hard everywhere and life was cheap. Executions were like public holidays, everyone came to watch some poor wretch hang, or have their head cut off, or be burnt or strangled at the stake. Until they changed the law in eighteen something or other, lots of crimes were considered petty treason, and the punishment was death.”

“How do you know all this Aunt Carol?” asked a very impressed Gaby.

“Well, believe it or not, I actually went to school as well as your parents. There we did a thing called history, and believe it or not, that's what all this is about.”

“I always thought it was like they say in the films.”

“What films, Gab?”

“Gangster ones. Annoy me, Peaches, and you're history,” said Gaby with a very unconvincing New York accent. But it made everybody laugh.

They went around the market and looked at every stall. Gaby bought a Sheryl Crow CD she didn't have, Maddy bought some new slippers, and Carol bought some fruit and veg. They all ended up carrying a bag of it.

The market, which has a covered section too, is only a stone's throw from the town proper, so they went on the mooch there too. They managed to find a free table at ‘ The Napper's Mite', a group of seventeenth-century almshouses that have been turned into a coffee shop and small specialist shops.

They had a cake and a drink, and then it was back to Maddy's favourite occupation – shopping.

They fought their way through the crowds. Much of the town centre is more or less pedestrianised, sometimes less; but they managed to negotiate their way past all the obstructions and delivery vehicles. They checked out every dress shop, book shop, record shop and other shop they found. In fact, Maddy left no shop unturned.

Carol was used to this hunting behaviour in her daughter, after all, she'd taught her most of what she knew. Gaby should have been familiar with it, having been exposed to it as Gaby or Drew for several years, but she found it a chore. Give her the crowd of the peloton, and she'd fight her way to the front in the end, give her crowds of moronic shoppers, and she just gets fed up.

“How much longer, Mad?”

“Until I find what I want. Why this is fun isn't it?”

“Oh yeah, I'm so happy I could sh…”

“Don't you dare, young lady.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Oh look there's Monsoon,” piped Maddy disappearing into an arcade called Antelope walk. The buildings here were part of a large public-house until a few years ago, they are now shops. Judge Jeffreys held his court in The Antelope, having it draped in red linens to frighten the accused. They were all rebels who'd been caught leaving the battlefield at Sedgemoor, supporting the Duke of Monmouth, the bastard son of Charles II, against his uncle James II. Many were transported to the colonies, some were hanged, drawn and quartered, their heads displayed on pikestaffs for months afterwards, as a warning.

Jeffreys had been told to show no mercy, and courts in those days were decidedly on the side of the prosecution. It was from his treatment of the Monmouth rebels, that the trials were called, the Bloody Assizes. Monmouth was beheaded, and Ketch, the executioner made such a hash of it that Monmouth tried to stand after the first blow. Ironically, there was no extant portrait of Monmouth, so they sewed his head back on and painted his picture. Who says life is stranger than fiction?

Well, perhaps Maddy was, she had actually found something in Monsoon, she'd found what she wanted for her cousin. It was a mini-dress, in an ivory colour with sequins on the scoop-necked top, and around the hem. It was fitted at the waist with a pleated skirt.

Looking further she found something for herself, a lacy black top and satin skirt. She dragged Gaby through to the back to try them on, leaving Carol with the shopping and their bags to mind.

When they came out of the changing rooms to show her, she was well impressed. Maddy certainly knew what she wanted, and that girl had an eye for style, Gaby, although she had shown some ideas when buying things for Maddy, seemed passive, almost aloof from the proceedings but the dress fitted really well.
“How much?” asked Carol again, not quite believing the amount the first time. “Well, that's a bargain.” Maddy had not only managed to find just the right stuff but on the reduced rail. The problem was, it meant she couldn't complain about buying new shoes.

They found them in a nearby shop, court shoes with a three-inch heel, in ivory satin and black patent for Maddy. “Gaby was about to say, I won't be able to walk in those, so how can anyone expect me to dance? When she discovered, they weren't that difficult. She walked well enough to stifle the argument before it began.

Now well laden, they began the walk back to the car. Perhaps if she began now, she might get to Warsop in a week or so, she could send the bike back afterwards.

As they walked back, someone pointed at her, “It is her I tell you.” She immediately felt very vulnerable, had they discovered her secret? Carol and Maddy began to get into defensive mode, preparing to beat off would-be attackers.

“Excuse me, are you Gaby Bond?” asked the woman approaching her.

“Who wants to know?” asked Carol, putting herself between the woman and Gaby.

“Her picture is in the Echo, and I just wanted to say, I think your mum is wonderful.”

“Yes, so do I,” agreed Gaby, “thanks for saying so.”

“My daughter does triathlon, so she's into bikes and things.”

“I hope she does well.”

“She'll be chuffed to think we met you.”

The women went on their way, and Carol shot into WH Smith to buy an Echo. They managed to find a space on a bench seat nearby. “Let's see what this is all about.”

Three pairs of eyes scanned the pages, when Maddy shouted, “There, look,” and pointed at an advert for the bike shop, in the form of an article. There was a large photo of Gaby on a bike outside the shop, and the article made reference to her mother being world champion, and that she also raced bikes.

“I'd never have allowed you to do it if I'd known what was going to happen. You wait till we take them back, I'll give him a piece of my mind.”

“At least it was bikes I was advertising,” said Gaby in a resigned tone.

“You seem very laid back about it all,” said Carol.

“This sort of thing happens to me.”

“It's ‘cos you're rich and famous and have a beautiful cousin,” giggled Maddy.

“Well the last bit is correct,” smiled Gaby.

“It says here, ‘Gaby Bond, the beautiful and talented daughter of Jenny, the world champion road race cyclist, chooses Giant from our extensive selection. She was travelling light, so hired one of our bikes to use on her holiday, “I have to keep in training, even on holidays if I want to emulate my mum,” said the lovely young woman'……”

“No mention of her beautiful cousin?”

“Sorry Mad, just the wunderkind ,” said Carol. “Come on, let's get home.”

In the car, Gaby said, “My goose is really cooked now, isn't it? I shall have to stay Gabified for the duration, won't I?”

“Well, that was on the cards this morning when we discovered we had no solvent.”

“Yeah, but it's like certain now.”

“What's this about solvent?” asked Carol. They brought her up to speed on the morning's events. “You mean you stuck them on before you knew if you could get them off again?”

“I know it's rather dumb, but…” said a very embarrassed and red-faced Maddy, talking to her knees instead of facing her mother.

“It's my fault, I asked her to do it,” said Gaby.

“I don't know if I believe you, young lady, but it's very noble of you to stick up for your cuz. I think today has been traumatic enough, let's get home and have a cup of tea and sort you both out for this disco thing.” With that, Carol, let out the clutch and pointed the car towards home.

As they entered, they heard the phone ringing. “Can you get that, Mad? it's probably your father, he said he'd ring.”

Maddy duly obliged. “It's for Gaby.”

“What my dad?”

“No, some man.”

“I'd better take it, I think,” said Carol. She took the call and after a moment said, “How did you find us?” then “Oh yes, and what does she get out of it?” More pauses, I don't know, we were going back on Sunday. I'll have to discuss it with her and her parents, give me your number and I'll get back to you tomorrow.”

“What was that all about?”

“There's some charity ride next Sunday, which will include a bit of a race by some accredited riders. They wanted you to ride in it, sponsored by them.”

“How long is the race?”

“Fifty kilometres.”

“Wow, that's a long one for you Gabs. You've only done a twenty-five miler.”

“I've done it in training, but as a race?”

“It's not a proper race, it's for charity, the riders are invited to attract the crowds a bit.”

“What sort of bike?”

“I didn't ask.”

“If dad says okay, and I like the bike, then I might.”

“You're supposed to be on holiday?”

“It's what I do to relax! I'd rather do it tonight than go to the disco.”

“You don't have to go, it isn't compulsory,” said Maddy, but the look in her eye said differently.

“I said I'd go, so I will.”

“Right well you two start getting ready, I'll get some food started.”

They both showered, Gaby, cursing the lumps on her chest, for getting in the way again. “I don't know how real women cope with them, especially big ones.”

“What was that about big ones?” asked Maddy.

“I was just thinking how women cope with big boobs, these seem to get in my way all the time. You'll have to ask the girl with the euphonium, in the colliery band.”

“That's it.”

“What is?”

“The musical instrument I was trying to think of on the way down here. A UFO what?”

“Not a UFO anything. A UFO is a flying saucer.”

“Cut the lecture, remember, you're blonde too.”

“One more word from you Peaches and you're history.” said Maddy in an even sillier accent than Gaby had managed.

“So what is it called?”

“A euphonium,” she looked at Gaby, “got it?”

“Yeah, not that I think I'm ever likely to need to know it.”

“It's a brass instrument.”

“Brass, the one that girl has is silver.”

“It's still called brass.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, ask her with the big wotsits.”

“Keep your hair on, I only asked.”

“Put your undies on, and I'll do your hair.”

“Won't putting on the dress mess it up?”

“No, it has a back zip; you're supposed to step into it, not pull it over your head. It isn't a football jersey.”

“Okay, okay,” Gaby pouted, thinking, “for two pins I'd stay home and read my book.”

Maddy sensing some stiffening in her cousin's attitude realised she had to do something to calm things down. She recognised that she was being a bit bossy and a know-it-all and that Drew was very tense about the disco anyway. Her overbearing manner was not helping him.

“Gi's a hug,” she said to Drew, who was always ready for one. They embraced and she felt his whole being relax. “I'm getting too bossy, aren't I?”

“A bit.”

“Am I forgiven?” she asked snuggling against him, her arms pushed under his and around his back.

“I suppose so.”

“Come on then, let's get you looking like the beautiful daughter of Jenny Bond,” she giggled.

“Aw shut it,” Gaby snapped back in mock anger.

Maddy combed and brushed and rubbed in mousse and sprayed on strong hold hairspray. She had teased Gaby's hair out its usual bob, into a ‘big hair' version. Gaby looked at it in the mirror. “Oh,” was the only comment heard.

“Don't you like it?”

“It's okay, I thought you'd do what you always do.”

“But I often do different things, ponytails, braids, putting up, adding a hairpiece.”

“Fine, it looks fine.”

“You don't like it do you.”

“I didn't say that.”

“No, but that's what you meant.”

“Yes but, no but, yes but, no but, yes but,” said Gaby mimicking a character from a comedy television show, called, 'Little Britain'.

Maddy had no answer to this and just fell about laughing then threatened, “Any more out of you, Missy and I'll make you do your own makeup.”

Gaby's mouth fell open.

They finished their hair and makeup, then pulled on their disco clothes. A bit of jewellery and a squirt of perfume and they'd be ready. Dinner wasn't quite ready, so Maddy tidied up her fingernails and did the same to Drew, painting his with a light pink pearlised nail colour. He kept looking at them.

“I think they look really nice, now. You should look after them a bit more.” lectured Maddy

“What for?” thought Drew, “so everyone can see what a big girl's blouse I am?”

Walking about in the shoes was not great problem, Drew thought about the shoes he'd been conned into buying by Sarah at the shoe shop. Some of those were worse. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror tiles, he looked a few years older than he was. He was in there somewhere, but he felt he was in danger of slipping out of sight completely. The dress sparkled, and he could see the hint of cleavage at the scoop neck. His long shapely legs disappeared under the pleated skirt, which formed little more than a pelmet around his hips and bottom. 'Does my bum look big in this?' he thought to himself, and the answer was yes and no. It was too big for a boy, but not for a girl. He pretended it was a trick of the light or the shape of the skirt.

He stepped back, and turned around, the skirt flared out if he did it quickly. He'd have to watch that. He was wearing a gaffe under his knickers, it was tight but not so uncomfortable as the last time he'd worn it. Thankfully, it didn't seem to affect his little problem, and in fact, might prevent it.

They ate, wearing thin towels across their dresses to keep them clean. Once more Drew emerged from the vision opposite Maddy, no matter how convincing he looked as a girl, he ate too fast, shovelling it in. One of these days she'd say something, but not tonight, she'd lectured him enough tonight.

Drew Goes South Chapter 5 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The door bell rang and Gaby's tummy convulsed. “I really don't want to be here, doing this,” she thought to herself.

“Promise me you won't deck anybody this time,” said Maddy as she heard Carol going to answer the door.

“If he tries to kiss me or anything else, I will probably hit him. Remember, despite all this,” and he gestured to the clothing and the false breasts,” I'm still a boy, and a straight one.”

“Tell him we don't allow kissing on the lips on first dates,” said Maddy trying to head off a potential problem.

“Is this a date? Jeez, I hadn't thought of it like that. My first date with a boy, what a mess.”

“What about James?” asked Maddy, now doing a wind up job.

“Carry on, and I shan't come.”

“Okay, Gabs, keep your tits on.”

“Very funny, not.”

“Come on, girls, your escorts await,” called Carol.

“Wow!” exclaimed both boys as the terrible twins made their entrance. The boys were suitably impressed, it seemed.

“What time is this thing supposed to end?” asked Carol of the boys.

“About 11.00pm, Mrs Peters.”

“I want them safe home here by 11.30 at the latest. No excuses accepted. 11.30 here, got it?”

“Yes, Mrs Peters.”

“Have a good time,” she said to each of the girls, and gave each a little kiss as they left.

William's father was waiting in the car, “Hello ladies,” he said, “If I was twenty years younger, I'd be asking you out myself. You both look stunning.”

Gaby just blushed and tried to make herself small, but Maddy smiled, and acknowledged the compliment. “Thank you, Mr Bugler,” she said quietly back.

“Was that you in the paper?” Harry asked Gaby. Then before any answer was possible, “Is your mum, really Jenny Bond the world champion, and ….”

“Fraid so,” sighed Gaby.

“Wicked!” said Harry, calculating how many points this would score over the local opposition. He had probably the prettiest girl he'd ever seen sitting next to him, and she was daughter of a world champion. How much better could it get?

“No wonder you left us for dead the other day. You race as well don't you? And I bet you're a champion too.”

“She's been asked to race down here on Sunday.” Interrupted Maddy trying to change the subject with subtlety.

“Where, who's asked you? Can we come and watch. I've never seen a bike race. You coming Wills?”

“You bet, you racing too, Maddy?”

“No, too long for me.”

“Dad can we go see Gaby race on Sunday?” asked William of his dad.

“If it means I don't have to take your mother shopping, of course. But don't tell her.” He laughed back to his son.

“This may be a bit early, I haven't agreed to race yet,” said Gaby, blushing furiously. If it was Drew, there'd be little question about it at all; but Drew would have to stay in the background for this one. “I have to speak to my parents first, and then see what the bike is like.”

“Who's asked you?” asked William.

“Weymouth Bikes, I think it was.”

“I think I know which shop you mean,” said Geoff Bugler, “I bought William his first bike there. But that was years ago, I think it's changed hands since then. I believe the chap who has it now used to race himself, pretty good by all accounts.”

“What sort of bikes does he do?” asked Maddy.

“I couldn't tell you,” replied Bugler senior. “I'm not into them at all, as long as they've got two wheels and handlebars, I can't tell one from another.”

“What sort of bike have you got at home?” Harry asked Gaby.

Maddy interrupted again, “Which one, she's got about five.”

“Oh,” said Harry suddenly feeling inadequate. He was counting on just one and he could then ask sensible questions, without showing his ignorance.

“What sort are they?”

“A Klein, an Orange, a Trek frame, and my usual race bike is a Tifosi frame but we changed the wheel set, my mum sent me over a set of Campags with 24 speed. They are brill.”

Geoff Bugler looked back in his mirror, the girl who'd hardly said anything since getting in the car, was now vibrant and her whole person lit up as she talked about bikes. A girl who was into bikes. Her mum is a world champion but even so it was unusual. He then recalled Rose, what was her surname? That's it Rosie Thorner, she was into motorbikes in a big way. But Rosie was built like the back of a bus, plain as a mirror tile. This one was a cracker, an absolute cracker. Then he thought, ”I hope William isn't going to ask me for a new bike that costs an arm and a leg, ‘cos of his infatuation with these two beauties. ‘Cos he can think again if he does.”

“I can't believe this is happening to me,” thought Harry, “I shall wake up in a moment, and find it's all been a dream. She's a cracker and her mum's a world champion. It does not get any better. Eat your heart out Ronnie Cheeseman.”

Whilst Drew under Gaby's exterior, was thinking some not dissimilar thoughts, at least for the first bit. 'This isn't happening. I'm stuck here with these two clowns, neither of whom know a front wheel from a seat post, with them thinking I am a neat bit of stuff. Now they want to come and watch me race. What has my mother got to do with anything? If they want to date her they need to speak to my dad. This is like a bad dream.'

The car pulled up a few minutes later outside the village hall. The place was lit up like a Christmas tree and the noise associated with a disco dance was emanating from within.

“I shall be back at quarter past eleven. Be ready.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Have a good time,” with that he drove off, leaving Maddy, Gaby and the two boys outside the hall.

“Gabs, can I ask you a big favour?” asked Harry.

“What?” came out of Drew's mouth while he readied himself to knock the boy senseless, if that was possible, if he misbehaved himself.

“There's a boy inside who is always putting me down. It would mean a great deal to me, if he was to think you were my girlfriend.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if you could just pretend for this evening, that you were my girlfriend. You know, pretend we were an item.”

“But I hardly know you.”

“I know that, Gabs, but he doesn't. So, if you were to walk in with me holding my arm around you, like this.” Drew felt himself stiffen, he wanted to know more before he committed himself to any more hare-brained schemes.

“Why does he put you down?”

“He's a bully, and he throws his weight around. He's bigger than me, he's stronger than me and he does what he likes regardless of other people's feelings. He's made Will's and my lives miserable for as long as I can remember.”

“You see, Maddy and you coming here with us is just ace. Two real hot chicks, with a couple of losers like us. That'll piss him off to start with.”

Drew hated bullies, having been bullied himself on occasion. He was almost ready to help, but the price felt too high.

“If I do help, then one thing. I don't do kissing on the mouth.”

“Sure, anything you say, Gabs, no kissing on the lips. Can I kiss you on the cheek?”

“If you must, I suppose so.” Inside was screaming, 'NO.' “Just don't push your luck.”

“Okay, Gabs, and thanks,” he kissed her on the cheek. Maddy saw this and waited for the sound of a slap. It didn't happen, it puzzled her.

Further puzzled, she watched as Harry slipped his arm around Gaby's waist and they went inside, William did the same with her. She followed on to see what happened next.

Several kids came up to greet them, and were introduced. The boys were wide eyed, the girls defensive. The foursome, moved to some vacant seats, the boys putting their jackets on them to mark their ownership. The girls sat down.

“Would you like a drink, Gabs?”

“Yeah, I'll have a glass of juice of some sort.”

William had done the same with Maddy. Being alone together, she leant over to Gaby and said, “You're being very tolerant, he's had his arm around you and kissed you on the cheek. I'm impressed.”

“He wants to get his own back on some bully who will be here.”

“That requires him kissing you?”

“It might, he wants me to pretend I'm his girlfriend.”

“Okay, do what you have to, but remember it's only pretend, so don't get carried away.”

“I don't think there's much chance of that.”

“The famous last words of many a teenage mum.”

“Very funny. Look out, here come Pinky and Perky.”

“Here you are, Gabs. Say, do you want to dance?” asked the love struck boy.

“Yes, I think I would.” Inside the message was, “I was expecting this sooner or later, let's show him I can't dance.”

The four of them bounced around to the music, like many of the other teenagers. The louder and faster the beat, the more many seemed to enjoy it. In some ways, Gaby was one of these. As long as it was fast and noisy, she was safe. Then a slow one was played and Harry pulled her towards him, “Please,” he said quietly. She played along and he put his hand around her holding her head on his shoulder. Gaby was still shorter than him, even with heels on.

She pretended she was dancing with Maddy, holding on to Harry and resting her head on his shoulder. Maddy was doing the same with William. She threw Gaby a wink, and they smiled at each other.

After half an hour, they were hot and tired, they returned to their seats. The drinks were very welcome. “Well hello, who have we got here?”

“Hi Cheeseman, this is my girlfriend Gaby and this is Will's girlfriend Maddy.”

“What are angels like you doing with these pipsqueaks? Why don't you come over with me and my mates, we know how to show two babes like you, a real good time.”

“Push off Cheeseman, these ladies are spoken for,” said William, standing to his full height, but Cheeseman was still a couple of inches taller.

“Oh, big tough guy, please don't hurt me,” he mocked. “I don't believe in violence in front of the girls, but if you want to try me, just step outside, anytime.” He poked William in the chest to emphasise his point. then did the same to Harry. He made a mock bow to the girls, “Ladies, when you want a real man, do come and visit.” Then he swaggered off, to join a group of boys and one or two girls who had been watching the proceedings, and who laughed with him when he joined them.

“That's him?” asked Gaby.

“That's him,” agreed Harry.

“Well I think you did really well, both of you,” said Gaby, and pecked him on the cheek. Harry, blushed and blustered, unable to find the right words with his mouth.

“Will you dance some more?”

“ ‘kay.” They spent another half an hour dancing. This time Gaby quite enjoyed it, she felt safe with this boy. He had a sort of courage which had been tested against a bigger opponent, yet he hadn't been seduced into some suicidal fight to impress her. It was a bit like her alter ego, Drew would probably have acted similarly, wherever he was, it seemed a long way away,

The evening continued with dancing and sitting to drink and recuperate. It was quite warm, and the steady supply of drinks were essential. Harry and William kept them both supplied adequately.

“That boy over there is drinking rather a lot of water.” Gaby pointed to a young man whom she had watched drink over two litres of water in a relatively short time. He had been dancing like something possessed, then more water, then more dancing, then more water, lots of it.”

“There's no one pushing pills around here is there?”

“Dunno, they don't appeal to me,” said Harry, “Why? You surely don't use ‘em?”

“No way, but that boy over there in the black shirt, he seems to be drinking rather a lot. I've been watching him. If I didn't know better I say he'd taken something.”

“What like ‘E', you mean.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

As they watched, a drama unfolded before them. The boy in question went to dance and in mid gyration, he fell, but he didn't get up again. The girls around him began to scream.

A crowd began to gather around the prostrate boy. “Come on, Danny, get up, stop messing mate.”

Gaby and Harry pushed their way to the front. “Anybody checked his pulse?” asked Harry. So he did, feeling for the beat of his artery in his neck. He bent down, trying to see the boy's chest rise and fall. It wasn't. “Get an ambulance he's not breathing.”

Gaby bent over him too. “Can you do CPR?” asked Harry.

“I've done it on dummies.”

“You blow, I'll pump; thirty to two, ready?”

Gaby nodded, lifted the boys head to make sure his tongue wouldn't get in the way and putting her mouth over the fallen boy's breathed twice into his. His chest rose and fell a little each time.

Harry, began the pumping. He felt for the end of the sternum or breast bone and three fingers up from it, he pressed his hand, then interlocked the fingers of his second hand and began fifteen compressions. He stopped, they checked, no breathing so they did it again and again and again.

The boy's colour had gone blue grey, especially around his mouth, but now it was pinker, if not exactly a healthy pink. It was also covered in Gaby's lipstick.

Maddy and William, plus a whole host of others stood around in astonishment as they watched the pair try to keep the boy alive.

The sweat was running down Harry's face with the effort, and Gaby was feeling tired with the tension and trying to make sure she made a good seal around the boys nose and mouth.

The sound of sirens filled the air, and moments later two paramedics carrying their emergency bags rushed in. “Keep going, kids, it will take us a moment to set up,” they shouted, so they did, and again. The paramedics took over. They made it look so easy. They cut the boys shirt off him, no messing around. The put a monitor thing on him and called for everybody to stand clear, then they defibrillated him. It took three goes, but they got a signal at last, he was breathing by himself and his heart was beating.

“I think he might have taken something, he was drinking such a lot of water and dancing like something possessed.” Gaby told this to the paramedic, who had arrived in a car. He thanked her.

“Was it you two who did the CPR?”

“Yes," said Harry, "I'm knackered.”

“It's hard work , but at least you kept him from dying. He still could, but at least you gave him a fighting chance. Where did you learn it?”

“Me? In the scouts.”

“What about you, Miss?”

“We learned it in school after someone collapsed and died a couple of years ago.”

“Well done the pair of you.”

The boy had been rushed off to Dorset County Hospital in Dorchester, while the extra paramedic was talking to Harry and Gaby. The dance broke up after this drama, most of the kids feeling unable to continue the festivities. It was only half ten.

As the crowd dispersed, several of the revellers came up and congratulated the pair for their prompt action. One of them, perhaps more alert than the rest said, “Hey, you're that girl cyclist that was in the Echo.”

“Yeah, that's her, her mum's the world champion,” beamed Harry.

“What she doing with a dickhead like you then, Palmer? Ride bikes do you darlin', well so do I. You can come and watch me on Sunday if you like, I'll show you how to do it properly.”

Harry was about to fly at him, which Cheeseman would have enjoyed, but Gaby restrained him. “Oh I'll be there, you can count on it. I wouldn't miss it for the world,” she said to the objectionable youth.

“Get rid of Rin Tin Tin here, and I'll show you how to treat a lady, properly.”

“I shall see you on Sunday, Mr Cheesecake,” said Gaby.

Maddy was so nervous, she was ready to wet herself, Gaby was so angry she was ready to hit him, but decided on a better way. Harry was in love, and William didn't know what to do with himself, but if Harry had pitched into Cheeseman, he'd have been obliged to support his friend, assuming Gaby didn't do it for him. She was quite a girl, was Gaby. Just as well she was with Harry, he didn't think he could cope with her, so he was glad that Maddy had been with him.

“I'm going to the ladies, you coming, Gab?”

“Yeah, okay.”

They got through the door, and Maddy looked Gaby in the eye and said, ”You're going to race aren't you?”

“ Even if I have to ride the Giant, yes. I'm going to beat that big heap of cheesecake, and I want to see his face when he realises he's been beaten by a girl.”

“But not just any girl?”

“No, Jenny Bond's daughter, I hope they've got a decent bike for me to borrow.”

“What if your dad says, no?”

“He won't, he was bullied in school, he can't stand them. He'll be cool. I hope it will be okay with Aunt Carol and her friend who owns the cottage.”

“Yeah it will, we could have had it for a fortnight, but we didn't think you could cope being away from your bike for that long.”

“Quite right too.”

“Gabs, your lipstick is all over that poor lad's face. I thought you said you weren't going to kiss anyone on the mouth.”

“I changed my mind, he was unconscious so he didn't actually kiss me.”

“You got some more in your bag, better freshen up or mum will think you've been up to no good.”

Reluctantly, Gaby refreshed her lipstick, by which time they were able to use the loo and then join the two boys.

“What's the problem?” asked Maddy, sensing something wasn't right.

“Cheeseman is out there, lurking, like a big fat shark,” said William.

“You're frightened of him, aren't you?” said Gaby rhetorically.

“If you'd been beaten up by him, so would you.”

“He won't hit you while we're here, so come on, let's go find the car.”

She linked her arm through Harry's and they wandered out into the night. Maddy sighed and did the same with William.

They were aware that Cheeseman was lurking about the place, his silhouette was not difficult to spot. Harry tightened his grip around Gaby's shoulder. “It's okay, he's not going to mess with you while I'm here."

“Are you going to race on Sunday?” asked Harry.

“It looks like it.”

“Do you think you can beat him?” he squeezed her again. “I couldn't bear it if he won, he would be insufferable.”

“On the other hand, if I win, he will look pretty stupid. Which should make life a little easier.”

“I'd like to think so.” By the time he had said this, they could see Mr Bugler's car.
“There's Will's dad, thank you for being my girlfriend tonight. Can we do it again sometime soon? Please.”

Inside Drew was screaming, “No. No way. Not Ever,” but somehow Gaby was deaf to the noise. “We'll see.”

“I'll bet you have a dozen boyfriends at home,” continued the self effacing Harry.

“No, it's only eleven,” smiled Gaby, back at his nonsensical statement, with one of her own.

“Oh well, that's all right then.”

They got back to the cottage just before eleven thirty. Harry insisted on seeing Gaby up to the door. “Can we do this again?” he pleaded.

“We'll see. Right now I have to get my beauty sleep, and save my energy for Sunday and that big ape Cheeseman. It would be nice to see a cheesecake with egg all over it.”

“Yes it would. I'll call you tomorrow,” said Harry.

“Remember I have to organise a bike sponsor.”

“I could come with you.”

“I don't know, I usually consider that sort of thing better on my own.”

“Oh.” He looked crestfallen. He had it bad.

Gaby felt a mixture of emotions. The reality was, she was a boy who loved and was loved by Maddy, so encouraging this other boy was futile. Yet, so absorbed in the role play, the girl in her felt very confused and very touched and sympathetic to this very gentle boy, who had tried to stand his ground against overwhelming odds.

Before realising what she had done, she pecked him on the cheek, said goodnight and went inside. Maddy who was gob-smacked for a moment, did the same with William. A few minutes later and they heard the car drive away.

“What was all that about, Gaby Bond?” demanded Maddy.

“What do you mean?” said Gaby shrugging a shoulder.

“You encouraging a boy. He looks like a lovesick puppy. Blow in his ear, and he'd follow you anywhere.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I haven't encouraged him.”

“Your words might not have, but your body language is something else.”

“I didn't do anything, did I?” Gaby began to frown, and looked seriously worried. “I can't help it if he's stupid enough to think I'm a girl.”

“From where I'm standing, I can't see anything else.”

“So you keep saying. I'm tired, I need to go to bed and I need to get a good bike from those people tomorrow. I'll need to practice on it for a bit before using it in a race. You know yourself how different bikes feel from each other.”

They went to bed, but Drew didn't find sleep easy to come by. He was worried by the conversation he'd had with Maddy. Surely he wasn't leading the boy on, was he? If he was then it was only because he didn't know any better. He wasn't that good at flirting as a boy, let alone as a girl, he had little need to. He'd known Maddy forever, and they had felt an affinity for each other for a long time. Long before they started to develop adolescent crushes on each other, oh yes, and the girl with the big euphemisms who played that stupid silver coloured, brass thing.

“Gabs, wake up.” It was Maddy. “You need to call your dad about this race, remember?”

“What, where am I? Argh, I‘ve got tits.”

“Gabs, of course you've got boobs,” said Maddy refusing to join in his vulgarity; “You're a girl this week remember?” She poked him again as he lay there trying to open his eyes. “Come on, Gabs, I've got your phone here.” She shoved something cold against his face and he jumped. She pressed the speed dial, “It's ringing.”

“Hello, Dave Bond,” said a voice he knew so well.

“Hi Dad, it's me Gab - I mean Drew.”

“I don't want to know what you are son, as long as you're okay and having a good time.”

“I am, it's a long story, but I seem stuck as Gaby for the week.”

“Well that's between you and your Aunt Carol,” he said, while thinking, this seems to happen with such regularity. Drew is not stupid, if he didn't enjoy it he wouldn't do it. It seems the only time he's a boy is on a bicycle. It's strange, but if that's how he is, we still love him or her or whatever.

“I've been asked to ride in a race on Sunday, for charity.”

“On what, you didn't take a bike with you, did you.”

“A local shop has offered to loan me one.”

“What sort?”

“I don't know yet, I'm going to see them today.”

“I hope Carol is going too.”

“Yes we're all going. But there's this bully at the local school who intimidates everybody. He's riding on Sunday, and I want to beat him dad, to teach him a lesson.”

“Won't the fact that you are the Junior British Champion, give him a bit of warning?”

“No Dad, he thinks I'm a girl. Maddy and me went to a disco with these two boys ‘cos they asked us to pretend to be their girlfriends...” at this point Dave Bond's imagination went into freefall. Boyfriends, girlfriends? What the hell is going on there? He wanted to say quite firmly down the phone, “Make your mind up, are you a girl or a boy, and don't tease the local boys, because you can't deliver." Then the caring and tolerant parent kicked in, and he knew he couldn't say any such thing. If it meant he was soon going to have two daughters, he'd cope somehow. He loved them both, so what the hell?

“If you are playing at being a girl, then I hope you appear suitably dressed and conduct yourself with some decorum when in public.”

“Yes, Dad. Can I do the race?”

“Of course you can as far as I'm concerned, besides Aunty Carol is in charge, so it's her decision, she's in loco parentis. Just make sure you give it your best shot, even if that is as a girl. Let me know how you get on with the bike sponsor.”

“I will, Dad. Thanks Dad. I've got lots of photos for you to see.”

“I'll look forward to that. I hope you've seen Maiden Castle.”

“Got the photos to prove it.”

“Good girl, take care on a strange bike,” he said while thinking, Christ, he's dangerous enough on his own, what's he going to do on some boneshaker he's only just seen.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Dre….Gaby.”

“ He said, yes then?” asked Maddy.

“Of course he did. I told you he can't stand bullies. I hope this bloke's got some good bikes.”

“I looked in Yellow Pages, and it said Saracen and Specialized. Does that means he specialises in Saracen?”

“No Specialized is as American make, I've never tried one but they're supposed to be pretty good, in the mid range. Popular with tri-athletes I hear, but they're even nuttier than me.”

“They go round kissing strange boys then?”

“Dunno.” Drew looked rather sheepish as he recalled the previous night. “I only pecked his cheek.”

“Like this,” said Maddy, doing something similar. “Or like this, or like this? Or li….” She kissed him on the mouth and once again he soared into outer space and back again.

“No. I think if he'd kissed me like that I would have remembered it. No I wouldn't, I've forgotten already. Better do it again, you know what my memory is like.”

Maddy giggled and kissed him again.

Drew Goes South Chapter 6 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The giggling and kissing stopped when Carol was heard moving around. After showers and breakfasts, there was a general consensus to go and see the bike shop. They were working out where it was on the street map they’d found in the house, when there was a ring at the doorbell.

Maddy went to answer it. She came back rather quickly, “There’s two police officers at the door.”

Carol and Gaby turned around quickly and looked stunned. Each thought, “Oh my goodness, what do they want? Have I done something wrong, has someone had an accident or been taken ill?” A moment later Carol said, “I’d better come and see what’s happened.”

She went to the door. There was a uniformed policeman and a similarly clad WPC. “Can I help you officers?” she said to them.

“Good morning Madam, are you Mrs Peters?”

“Oh no has something happened to John?” she felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach.

“No madam, nothing like that, I’m just establishing that we’ve come to the right address. It’s about something that happened at the village disco last evening, which we have been asked to investigate.”

“Does this concern my daughter and her cousin?”

“If they are Maddy and Gaby,” he said looking at his notebook, “then yes it does.”

“You’d better come in. Girls, the police want a word with you.” called Carol as she led them into the sitting room. “I presume it’s in order for me to stay while you talk to them?”

“Perfectly.” The policeman said to Carol, then to the children, “Hello girls, I’m Constable Ben Martin, and this is, Constable Andrea Smith.” There were nods and subdued responses from the two kids.

“Shall we all sit down?” suggested Andrea. They all did so, the three interviewees feeling very nervous. “Please don’t worry,” she continued, “none of you has done anything wrong. We got your names and address from Harry Palmer, with whom you attended the disco last night, yes?”

Both girls nodded.

“While you were there, someone collapsed, yes?”

They both nodded again, looking very serious.

“Is he okay?” asked a very anxious Gaby, worrying if the CPR she had assisted in, had caused a problem.

“I don’t know for certain, but I haven’t been told any different. He was very poorly when we were asked to investigate by his parents.” Andrea looked at Ben for confirmation, and he nodded back to her.

Gaby did the same with Maddy, both felt extremely uncomfortable.

Andrea began again,” According to a paramedic who attended, a boy and a girl gave assistance to the collapsed boy, and probably saved his life. Our investigations so far have led us to discover that the boy was Harry Palmer and the girl, a Gaby Bond? Is this correct.”

They both nodded agreement.

“Which of you is Gaby Bond?”

Maddy pointed at her cousin, at the same time, Gaby said, “I am.”

“Your prompt action probably saved his life, so well done young lady.” She smiled at Gaby, who blushing acknowledged the compliment. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“At school.”

“Well done your school.” She continued smiling. “I believe you also told the paramedic something, it was you wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was me.” Gaby recalled what she had said to the paramedic, but what was worrying her was what should she be telling the police about herself, and would they discover it if she didn’t? If they did would it matter? She decided not to say anything.

“Can you tell us what you told the paramedic?”

“Yeah. I noticed the boy was drinking lots of water, like really lots, like two litres.”

“That is a lot. Carry on.”

“He danced like someone on drugs, and then he drank some more. Then he danced and fell over. Some girls screamed and we all went to see what happened, then Harry examined him told someone to call an ambulance and we did our bit, then the ambulance came, took over and I told the other paramedic who turned up what I’d seen. I just wondered if he had taken something.”

“Like what?”

“Oh I don’t know, Ecstasy, or whatever they call it. I don’t have anything to do with drugs but I know others do.”

“You have very good observational skills, young lady.” Gaby blushed again as the WPC said this. “Did you notice him taking anything or being with anyone else?”

“No, I didn’t notice him at all until he seemed to be drinking so much.”

“Okay, that’s great. Now Maddy, did you see anything? Try and think yourself back to last night.”

Maddy closed her eyes and imagined herself back at the hall. “Now can you see anything.”

“Only the boy collapsing.”

“Anything before that?”

“Not really, I was talking to William before that.”

“William Bugler?”

“Yes.”

“As you can imagine we are anxious to trace who gave the pills to the boy. His name is Steve Miller, by the way. They nearly killed him, so it is serious. So if you think of anything which can help us, let us know at this number.” She handed Maddy a business card with her number on it. “The same number will find my colleague Ben Martin.” she pointed at her colleague to remind them who he was.

“Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you hear or see anything, please let us know. This isn’t a game, next time someone could die.”

They all agreed, and the two police officers, thanked them for their help, then left.

“What was that all about?” demanded Carol, “I nearly died when they knew our names, I suppose Harry or William told them.”

The dynamic duo recounted what had happened including the contretemps with Cheeseman.

“So this is why you’ve decided to race on Sunday?” asked Carol of Gaby.

“Partly.”

“And..”

“And partly because I fancy a race. No one here knows who I really am, so it’s a bit of a laugh. It’s not an official race, so it doesn’t really matter if I win or not. I just want to beat 'Cheesecake'.”

“It’s beginning to sound personal, Gaby. Is that a good idea?”

“Oh yes. I’m gonna beat that big ape if I have to ride the Giant.”

“Well, I think that shop has profited from you more than enough, let's go and meet the opposition, see what they can offer.” They checked the map, and off they went.

‘Weymouth Bikes’, turned out to be called ‘South Coast Bikes’, it was run by Matt Davis, who was a tall, pleasant man in his forties. He knew his bikes, his business partner was Tim Tyler, who was the specialist mechanic. They both still rode regularly, and had raced in their youth.

“We are delighted to meet the daughter of Jenny Bond,” said Matt, I believe your brother is pretty useful on a bike too.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” said Drew, talking about himself, and feeling a little worried.

“Well I think he’s wonderful,” piped Maddy, taking the attention to herself and off Gaby, “but then I would, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Gosh you two look alike.”

“We’re cousins,” said Maddy.

“Do you ride as well?” asked Tim, who until now had been pretty quiet.

“Not like my cousins,” answered Mad.

“She does, she just doesn’t believe it yet,” trumped Gaby.

“Does this mean we’ve got to find two bikes then?” asked Matt.

“No, I’m not riding in this race.”

“I think you should,” said Gaby.

“No, and that’s final. I’ll do what I can to help, but that’s it.” Maddy sounded just like her mum when she had made up her mind. Drew decided not to push his luck.

“What sort of bike do you normally ride?” asked Tim of Gaby.

“A Tifosi frame with Campag wheel set,” said Gaby.

“Very nice. I don’t suppose you brought it with you?”

“No, that’s why we borrowed the Giant’s from Dorchester.”

“What size frame? I’d think about a fifty two.”

“Yes.”

“Thought so,” said Tim, “I’ve only got a Specialized in that size, in a ladies. It’s a nice bike, twenty four speed, carbon front forks and seat post.”

“Sounds nice, I’ve never ridden one,” said Gaby.

“They use them for triathlons quite a bit round here, sold three last year for that alone. Want to see?”

“Please.”

Tim came back into the shop two minutes later from the back, with the red racer. Gaby was suitably impressed, “Can I give it a try?”

“Sure, I’ll come up the road with you,” said Matt, grabbing his own Specialized. “You see, I walk the talk.”

They took the bikes down the main road, turned off into a side street and up a short hill. “I’m not used to this high ratio, what is it, fifty two eleven?”

“Yeah, it takes a bit of getting used to, and it helps them fly downhill.”

“It’s hard work, but it goes a bit,” said Gaby dropping down a gear and zooming off.

“You’ve done this before, lass,” Matt said having to work quite hard to catch her.

“I have a good teacher.”

“I’ll bet,” said Matt, “shall we head back in case the others think I’ve run off with you.”

A few minutes later, they were discussing the detail of the sponsorship. “We’ll loan you the bike until after the race so you can get used to it. We’ll provide your back up,. We’ll also provide you with Specialized riding kit, including shoes. Do you want toe clips or blocks?”

Gaby went for the toe clips.

“You get to keep everything except the bike. As it’s a charity race we also provide hundred quid for the charity. In return, we will take a few pictures of you during the race, and hopefully of you doing reasonably well at the end. If you win, and there will be some stiff opposition, but if you win the ladies class, we’ll chuck in the bike in return for the publicity we can use in advertising.”

“What is the bike worth?” asked Gaby.

“Five hundred plus. The kit is worth another couple of hundred, which you get just for riding.”

Gaby looked at Carol and Maddy, “What do you think, sounds okay to me.”

“Are you going to be okay with a strange bike for a race?” asked Maddy.

“By Sunday, it won’t be strange.”

“Okay, I only asked, Gabs, don’t bite my head off.”

“Deal?” asked Matt.

“Deal,” said Gaby and they all shook hands on it.

“Right, we’ll go and get some lunch and call back when? What time do you close?”

“It’s Thursday, it’s our late night, so eight tonight.”

“I think we’ll be back before then. We’ll collect the bike and the kit then if that’s okay.”

“Fine, see you later.”

The three intrepid travellers went into Weymouth and did the touristy things, the Sea Life Centre, where you can walk under tanks full of large fish like rays and sharks, see baby turtles and other marine creatures.

They went around the ‘Timewalk’ and saw how Weymouth featured in the Black Death, being the port of entry for the rats which carried the fleas which carried the germ. They saw that it was important in the slave trade and it also featured with Portland in smuggling, mainly things like brandy and silks.

They saw the ‘Diving Museum’, and watched the catamaran ferry arrive, a huge white ship with its twin hulls, which travels to the Channel Islands and northern France.

Carol noticed the time and after an ice cream, they went back for the bike. Gaby was fitted out in a matching red outfit of shorts and top, each bearing the Specialized logo, plus some shoes, a helmet and cycle mitts. The bike had been fitted with a bottle and its container, a computer had also been fitted.

Of course, Drew couldn’t wait to really give the bike a go, so he opted to ride home, well he had all the kit on and five or six miles would give him a chance to play with the gears and, he liked the extra brake levers in the middle of the handlebars. They were really kewl.

The ratio was higher than he was used to, but he played about with the gears and found he could cope with it, including riding up over the Ridgeway, which was a stiff test. He had to drop it into bottom gear, but he made it with no great problem as befits a hill climb champion.

Coming down the other side, he cranked up the gears and it flew, he managed nearly fifty miles an hour at one point, but it was hard work in top gear. Arriving at the cottage, he decided, he liked the bike and if he had the chance to win, he would certainly go for it, even if they had to buy a bike rack to get it home!

The next morning, wearing his new cycling kit and shoes, he was up and out on the new bike. This time he headed up to Dorchester, and took the Yeovil road. A little bit further on, he took the cycle path, and followed it to the turn off for Charminster.

Following this road, he went through Forston, where the Grange had been the original asylum. Without any of the modern drugs, people deemed lunatics had been walked around the courtyard until tired or tied to posts and had cold water thrown over them. The later Herrison hospital had been built in the Victorian age, which more enlightened than its predecessor, had itself been made redundant and was now a village of upmarket apartments and new, rabbit hutch houses.

Next came Godmanstone, which claims to have the smallest pub in England, 'The Smith’s Arms'. Tradition has it that Charles II passed by the Smithy and asked for a drink of beer. The smith refused because he had no licence to sell beer. The king allegedly gave him one there and then to get his drink, and there has been a pub on the spot ever since. Then on to Cerne Abbas and beyond. At Cerne, he stopped to take a couple of photos of the Cerne Giant, a huge chalk carving in the hillside. It is a naked figure of a man with a huge phallus.

The figure was thought to be that of Hercules, because he carries a club, but it has also been discovered by archaeologists, that he had held something in his other hand, which they thought might be a lion skin. The figure is controversial, and some consider it to be far younger than prehistoric, perhaps a later hoax. However, tradition has it that infertile women, if they slept on the phallus would become pregnant. The reason for the uncertainty of origin, is that there are no records relating to the Giant before 1649, according to the notice board. It could be two thousand years old or a mere four hundred!

Gaby smiled when she read this on the sign, thinking, “I could spend a month sat on his willie and I wouldn’t get pregnant, but I’d probably die from exposure.”

Heading round in a big circle, he steered the bike back towards the eastern side of Dorchester. He grumbled to himself about the roughness of some of the roads. The practice of spraying and gritting might be a cheap way of maintaining a surface, which is fine for cars and lorries, but horrid for cyclists.

He noticed the amount of road kill casualties. It was bad enough at home, but here, it was something else. The roads in places were almost carpeted with bashed bunnies, flattened pheasants, hammered hedgehogs and battered badgers.

The roadside banks were littered with burrows of rabbits, foxes and badgers, the spillage tipping out on to the road. As he rode the accompanying murmur of the tyres was punctuated by birdsong. Blackbird, robin, wren gave a regular concert, helped by solos from a yellowhammer and a swallow who flew past him chattering as it went. He’d heard the drumming of the great spotted woodpecker while he photographed the Giant, its staccato hammering, sounding like small arms fire.

Just then a blackbird shot out of a hedge only a yard or two ahead. It’s low, rapid flight made it easy to see how it had evolved to avoid sparrow hawks not traffic, to which it was now particularly vulnerable. Insects popped against his body and the odd one hit his face, after he swallowed the second one, he remembered to keep his mouth shut. He saw a freshly killed greenfinch lying on its back in the middle of the road, he marvelled at its bright yellow and green plumage meaning it was certainly a male bird, not yet despoiled by the ‘wheels of progress’ attached to cars and trucks which would inevitably grind it into the ground.

When riding, once in his cadence, he rarely thought about the act, it was almost automatic, giving him time to think about other things. When riding in a race or time trial, it was different, then you had to stay alert, suss the conditions and other competitors. This near trance state of the training run, was almost a luxury, a day dream. True, it wasn’t as nice as still being in bed, and Drew liked his bed, but it was pleasant nonetheless, and his enjoyment of this aspect, got him out in all winds and weathers. He might be sometimes accused of laziness in school or at home, but never on a bike. He was never a slouch on two wheels.

The sun shone on his back as he approached Dorchester, it felt warm and he was glad to be alive, even with the plastic mounds he had stuck on his chest, thankful for the support of the sports bra Maddy had helped him get, even if it did bite into his shoulders occasionally. The traffic was fairly light so less than half an hour later he was home and in the shower.

“You did twenty five miles according to the computer,” said Maddy as Gaby helped herself to breakfast.

“Yeah, my usual training ride.”

“Where did you go?”

“Up to Cream Abbey, or something like that. There’s a man with a huge willie carved in the hillside, and it shows through with the chalk underneath.”

“Did you take any photos?”

Gaby nodded, having a mouthful of cereal at that second, and pushed the camera towards Maddy.

“Oh my goodness, look at his donger!” exclaimed Maddy, at which point Gaby in mid-swallow, nearly choked to death, and spent a few moments coughing as a consequence.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” cough, cough. “Yeah I’m okay,” said Gaby wiping tears away from her eyes.

“When you’ve finished, we’ll go and do some make up. You can do your own for a change.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Tough, it’s about time you learned the basics, most girls of our age are experts.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a girl, remember, ‘cos sometimes I think you forget.”

“Tell that to the judge.”

“What judge?”

“Oh, Gabs, it’s a figure of speech, like, ‘tell it to the marines’. Sometimes I do wonder about you, maybe if we dyed your hair darker.”

“What for?”

“Well then you wouldn’t be such a dumb blonde.”

Gaby threw her a pout, and the body language was anything but happy.

“Oh come here you big bimbo, gi’s a hug.” They hugged and things were well again.

“Come on, some blue eyeliner, mascara and a bit of lippy, that’s all. You can do that.” Maddy watched as her protégé tentatively applied the cosmetics, tongue protruding as the eyeliner and mascara were used. “Hey that’s really good, from now on you can do your own unless we’re going somewhere special.”

“Oh bum,” said Gaby.

“What are we doing today?” asked Maddy of her mother.

“Well, I’d like to go to Lyme Regis. Jane Austin lived there for a while and it features in Pride and Prejudice. What would you like to do?”

“I don’t mind,” said Maddy. Gaby shrugged shoulders, she was thinking about Sunday and the race.

“Lyme Regis it is then.” Said Carol, and led the way to the car.

Lyme is the furthest point west of the County of Dorsetshire. It’s a pretty little place with, as previously mentioned, associations with Jane Austen. More recently with another writer, John Fowles, who wrote, 'The French Lieutenant’s Woman', the film of which was shot in Lyme. Who can forget Meryl Streep as the tortured heroine who patrolled the Cobb, the inner harbour wall, and spent hours looking out to sea.

Maddy and Carol would certainly have seen it and enjoyed it. Drew would probably have found it more entertaining to look out to sea.

The cliffs around Lyme and Charmouth are notoriously unstable, and the under cliff is frequently closed through landslides. This makes it especially good for fossil hunting, and it is an internationally protected site, for this reason. Back in the nineteenth century, a woman known as Mary Anning, became famous for her discoveries of fossils, including the first complete ichthyosaur, a sort of fishy dinosaur.

Anning became a respected figure in the fledgling science of palaeontology, and her skills and views were sought by collectors and academics alike. Given the period, such status for a woman was unusual, with her humble origins it was extraordinary.

Lyme Regis is also the place where the Duke of Monmouth began his ill fated insurrection, landing at a place still called, Monmouth Beach. His folly caused the deaths of hundreds of people in the south west and finally his own.

The drive to Lyme was uneventful, though with some outstanding views of the English Channel from the high ground either side of Bridport. The road now by- passes the centre of Bridport, a market town whose main claim to fame was in its rope and net works. ‘To be stabbed by a Bridport dagger’, meant one had been hanged, as Gundry’s rope works made the ropes used for executions.

Oblivious of this tit-bit of historical trivia, our three heroines travelled on to Lyme passing through Chideock, with its double whammy of speed cameras at both ends, and Morcombelake where Dorset Nobs are made. The latter are rather hard biscuits, beloved of tourists for the torture of friends and family, who stayed at home, by breaking their teeth. Eventually they arrived at their destination and managed to park the car in the big car park near Monmouth Beach.

They walked along the Cobb, went in the fossil shop, where Gaby bought a small fossil as a prezzie for her dad. They explored along the front and in a small boutique, she found a suitably goth type scarf for Juliet. They bought and wrote postcards for all the gang, Gaby writing to Rhod, while Maddy wrote to Ally and Bernie.

They had a fish and chip lunch, sat on the Cobb, feeding the athletic and agile seagulls as they ate with their fingers. A quick exploration of the town meant walking up and down steep hills or steps, lots of them. They found the house where Jane Austen stayed, and discovered that John Fowles had been curator of the museum at one time.

While in the town they had a Dorset cream tea, fresh baked scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream, cholesterol in a pot. They much enjoyed them.

They came back via the coast road between Bridport and Weymouth, arguably one of the most beautiful in the area. Above the road near Burton Bradstock stands a partly ruined tiny house, which was the coastguard look out, watching for smugglers.

Stopping at Abbotsbury, they walked up to St Catherine’s Chapel, a deserted church on a high point overlooking the sea. Probably built on an older pagan site, the chapel is the preserved shell of a church, no longer used for worship.

They went to the sub-tropical gardens, and then to the Swannery. Under English law swans were primarily owned by the Crown, the various guilds and one or two privileged landowners. The Strangways family, who owned much of the coastal area around Abbotsbury, were one such family. The peak time for visitors is when the cygnets are very young, all yellow and fluffy. Sadly, our lot had missed this sentimental experience and had to make do with a quick wander along the Fleet, and a butchers around the Tithe barn, near which is a post showing the height of a tidal wave which devastated the area two hundred years ago. “Tsunamis are nothing new,” said Gaby, pointing to the post.

Tithing, was a system originating with the landowners or churches, where each person had to give one tenth or tithe of their income, be it in money, goods or animals. It preceded such taxes as income tax, nowadays it usually exists in a much smaller form amongst some devout religious communities.

The tithe barn was the place where the goods were stored after collection, bearing in mind that most people in days gone by worked on the land and would thus pay their taxes in agricultural produce.

They had an ice cream and moved through the chocolate box village, to wander around Abbotsbury Fort, another iron age hill fort like Maiden Castle only smaller, with even more stunning views over the channel.

The weather had held, and three footsore and rather weary travellers trudged their way home bearing the take away they had got in Dorchester on the way back to the cottage.

Maddy and Gaby, were similarly attired, shorts and spaghetti strap crop top, which had given definite tan lines to both wearers, as they walked about in the summer sun. Maddy noticed it on Gaby, but thought discretion the better part of valour. Gaby constantly whinged about the ballast she was carrying in front of her, which Maddy initially felt some guilt about, but afterwards felt irritated.

“Look,” she snapped back to the whingeing one, “I have boobs as well, but I don’t keep on about them.”

“Yours I like, you’ve had them a long time, they didn’t just happen one night like someone else we know.”

“Well you’re stuck with them, or should that be, ‘to them’. We can’t do anything about them till we get home, so stop whining. You’re a big girl now.”

“Yeah, this much too big,” retorted Gaby, making gestures about her chest.

“Loads of girls would kill to have a figure like yours,” said Carol, entering the conversation, “especially, the way you eat, like a horse.”

“Complete with nose bag.” Chipped in Maddy, sidestepping the half hearted swipe it provoked.

“Well just tell ‘em to ride their bikes twenty miles every day, and they can borrow these.” Gaby once more gestured to the breast forms.

“Hang on a minute,” said Maddy, “Look at yourself.” She pointed at the mirror. “What do you see?”

“All right you’ve made your point,” responded a down-cast Drew from deep inside the pretty girl who stood before the mirror.

“That wasn’t what I asked. I asked you, what do you see?” Maddy was being assertive again and it unnerved Drew, just enough to make him want to comply. He looked at the floor, refusing to meet her gaze. “Well?”

“You know what I can see, you made me look like it.”

“I admit I helped, but only in part. What do you see?”

“A girl.”

“What sort of girl?”

“What do you want me to say, ‘a hot babe’ or something equally silly?”

“In some people’s estimation, particularly boys, that might be a valid description, why do you think they say it?”

“How do I know?” Under the pretty exterior was a rather frightened boy who was losing touch with himself.

“Because you are. Look at you, pretty face, brilliant figure…” Drew went to interrupt but Maddy stopped him by raising her hand and gesticulating to keep quiet. “You can’t help who or what you are, and I love you for it. You should think yourself lucky you can express your feminine side so easily and so convincingly, and at times you seem to enjoy the experience. I know on Sunday, you are going to enjoy the advantage of surprise it will give you against Cheeseman.”

Gaby nodded at this, and tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

“He will think he’s up against a weaker woman, but like Elizabeth I, inside is the spirit of a lion, as he will find out. It will probably maul him to death.”

Gaby nodded again, the tears now dripping down her nose.

“Oh, Gabs, don’t cry.”

“But I don’t want to be a girl, I don’t want to be pretty or have a figure. I only want to be a normal boy.”

“I know, I know.” soothed Maddy, as she hugged and cuddled with him. “Just a normal boy with tan lines.”

“You what?” exclaimed Drew, looking at himself in the mirror more carefully, “Oh bum.” He tore off the top, and sure enough he was golden brown with thin white stripes down his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did,” said Maddy feigning astonishment.

“I mean earlier.”

“I didn’t notice them earlier.”

“Oh rats, I’m gonna look stupid when we get back.”

“I think you have a couple of more pressing things to deal with, don’t you?”

Drew looked down at his chest, his breast forms partly hidden by his bra. “Will you look at that figure?” purred Maddy.

When Drew did, he almost fell in love with himself. He was a hot babe, narrow waist, full hips and luxuriant breasts, courtesy of the breast forms. He looked again. “Do boys usually have hips like this?”

“You’re special,” offered Maddy and hugged him again, then kissed him. “No they don’t, nor do they generally have small waists nor narrow shoulders.” She kissed him some more to avoid betraying her thoughts, 'please let me distract him.' She silently prayed, 'so I don’t have to tell him the truth.' Her subterfuge worked.

Drew Goes South Chapter 7 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where did you go?” she asked him.

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

“And…?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you say to that?”

“I didn't really answer it.”

“Would you like to be the champion?”

“Which one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What's there then?” enquired Drew.

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

“What's at Poole?” asked Maddy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“'Fraid so,” confirmed William.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And they've given it to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A National Champion?”

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

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

“You have a brother?” asked Harry.

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who's Drew?” asked William.

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

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

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

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

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

Drew Goes South Chapter 8 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The ruins of the castle at Corfe Castle were extensive and took even the teenagers a good couple of hours to explore. At the main gateway, Gaby drifted off into a daydream, seeing herself as Lady Bankes firing the cannon at the Roundhead soldier, she could hear the defenders cheer and felt proud of her defiance, her husband would be proud of her too.

“Gabs, are you alright?” called Harry, putting his hand on her shoulder.

This was enough to bring Drew back to the present day with a slight shock. Inside he said to himself, 'Gee whiz, what is happening to me? I'm even daydreaming like a girl.' To Harry, he simply said, “Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking what it must have been like to have been here during the siege. Horrible I should think, cannonballs flying about the place, musket balls ricocheting all over. People, hurt and dying, horses and other animals terrified. It must have been horrible.” She gave a visible shudder at this last bit.

Harry went to give her a hug, but she stopped him saying she was okay. The event was not wasted on Carol or Maddy. Both wondered what was happening. Most teenage boys would love the thought of cannons and carnage, at least in theory. It's usually girls who worry about people injured and dying and the welfare of animals involved.

They knew he had a soft spot for animals because he was very upset when his hamster died some years ago. But he was much younger then; now in this transitional state that adolescence is, teenagers are frequently rather short on feelings for others.

Carol noticed that Gaby seemed very quiet, at least quieter than she usually was and very much quieter than Drew would have been. It puzzled her and slightly worried her too. Oh, Gaby went with the others and saw everything that they saw and did everything they did, but there was something missing.

As they walked back down the hill towards the exit, the boys ran ahead with Maddy chasing them, Gaby stayed back with Carol. “You okay, Gabs?”

“Yeah, just a bit tired. I overdid it this morning racing Matt.”

“You sure that's all it is. I'll listen if you want to talk.”

“I'm a bit worried about this race. I want to win it more than I have anything before. I want to beat that lump of Cheddar, more than anything.”

“Is there any doubt? You are rather talented in that department.”

“Yeah I know, but it's never been so personal before. It's really playing on my mind. I've never hated anyone before, but I think I hate that boy. Why did he have to insult me or my mother, and why did he have to hit Harry? He's so much bigger than all of us. I just hope I can beat him.”

“You can only do your best kiddo, and you always do that on a bike. Is that bike okay?”

“It's alright, it'll do the job well enough, it's me I'm worried about.”

“When you think of this boy, what's his name, Cheeseman?”

“Yeah, Cheesecake.”

“See him in his underwear, and see that as all grubby and smelly. Perhaps smelling of Gorgonzola.”

“Phaw, phew!” Gaby wrinkled her small turned-up nose just like a girl, “Oh that is too horrible.” Then she started to chuckle and the chuckle gave way to a giggle, and by the time Carol and she were at the exit with Maddy and the boys, they were giggling like schoolgirls, tears running down their cheeks.

“Thanks, Auntie Carol,” said Gaby, as they met with the others. Carol smiled back an acknowledgement.

“Just what are you two laughing at like some demented school kids?” demanded Maddy.

“Nothing,” replied Carol, “Nothing that concerns you at any rate.”

“Oh,” she pouted, “be like that then.” She turned on her heel and strode off towards the village.

Carol and Gaby looked at each other and began another fit of giggles.

They drove onto Swanage and had lunch courtesy of the local fish and chip shop before exploring the town. They did the shops, where Maddy found yet another belt, she just had to have. William produced the money before anyone else could do so. Maddy wondered if Drew would feel jealous, but looking at Gaby and Harry standing close together looking at something in another shop window, she pondered whether Drew had disappeared altogether. She would do some research later.

Drew was still there, he had gone deep inside Gaby and was still chuckling at gorgonzola, although only Gaby knew this, and for the moment she seemed to be the dominant personality, allowing Drew some time out. Harry irritated her at times, but she thought she would wind up Maddy a bit, by pretending to allow Harry to get closer than Maddy would expect. Effectively, by giving Drew the day off, Gaby could allow herself to be really girly without it affecting his self-esteem. He would be there for the race, his energy rested and looking for revenge on behalf of all the others Cheeseman had hurt. Not only that, she would help Drew achieve that end by appearing to be something she wasn't, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. To both his egos, this seemed a reasonable and equitable position.

So when Harry put his arm around her shoulder, in a slightly proprietary manner, she didn't take too much notice. If he was enjoying himself, then it was okay, they would be going in a day or two, nothing would happen in that sort of time.

She spotted a tee shirt large enough for her dad with a picture of the Cerne Giant on it, the price was reasonable and so she bought it. There was only something for her mum now to get. That was always difficult, and her being in Germany made it even harder.

Maddy spotted a small purse which she would give to Gaby to carry in her bag. She was still using Drew's small wallet, which was okay, but not quite de rigueur, and Maddy did like things to be just so.

After the shops, and another ice cream they had a wander on the beach. Shoes and socks off they paddled along the water's edge, played with an abandoned Frisbee they found and generally ran amok.

At six o clock, they all fell back into the car, tired and sunburnt. Gaby's tan lines were even more noticeable, and the bottom of her skirt was all wet where they had paddled and fooled about. But she didn't care, she was so tired that in moments the motion of the car and the music from the radio caused her to nod off, her head resting on Harry's shoulder. This made everyone else smile, and Harry feel so important, he wasn't just smiling, he was positively beaming.

The Honda, under Carol's careful driving, headed closer to home, when disaster struck at the roundabout near Wareham. An elderly man, whose eyesight probably wasn't all it should have been to drive safely, overshot the white line causing another car to take avoidant action, in the form of a sudden swerve. It was this second car that then hit Carol's Honda.

The impact caught the front offside of the Honda, buckling the wing and wheel arch, strewing glass from the headlight across the road. Carol braked immediately on impact, a reflex action. Gaby was thrown forward against the seatbelt and jerked back onto Harry's shoulder. It was a relatively minor injury, but the shock caused both of them to react more than they might have expected.

Harry shouted in pain, Gaby screamed. She was back at Corfe's siege and the impact coincided with a cannon shot hitting the wall. It took her a moment to wake up and realise what had happened, by which time she was weeping copiously. In her distress, she allowed Harry to hug her, grateful for the realisation that she was relatively safe.

In the melee that followed, the elderly driver carried on his way unaware that he'd caused an accident. The car that hit Carol's, had enough damage to make it undrivable as was the Honda.

Both drivers checked no one was injured. They agreed upon the cause but neither had the number of the elderly man's car. They knew it was an old Ford Escort, in a faded red colour, but that was all.

While the drivers exchanged details and various agencies informed by calls upon mobile phones, the respective passengers were escorted to the pavement and relative safety.

Harry helped Gaby to this refuge, she was still upset by her dream and now this real-life nightmare. Everyone had a sick feeling, a sinking in the pit of the stomach. Carol had called the police, and while other cars were able to get around the two damaged ones, it needed someone official to take control. She had also called the RAC to move the car and get them home. Then a call to her insurers.

As they stood on the pavement, still in a state of semi shock Maddy and Carol hugged, then Maddy and Gaby, them Carol and Gaby, then all three together, then including the boys. Gaby had calmed down.

Carol said to the group, “Sorry about this, kids, but there was nothing I could do.” They all agreed, it wasn't her fault.

“How are we going to get home?” asked Gaby.

“The RAC should be here soon, they'll get us home.”

“No. I mean back to Warsop.”

“I don't know at the moment; hire a car I suppose.”

“Oh.”

“I've told the insurance info line. Once we get home I'll ring them again. I suppose it could mean we're here a day or two longer. It's a pain but at least the cottage is available all week. I'll have to phone my friend to check if it's okay, but we should be alright.”

“What, you could be here a few days longer, that's ace,” said Harry.

“Oh shit!” was what went through Drew's mind, “another few days of being Gaby. Just what I needed, not.”

The police arrived shortly before the RAC. The mess was eventually sorted enough for Carol's car to be put on a suspended tow, and for all the passengers and driver to clamber into the breakdown truck. They took the car to the Honda garage in Dorchester, then went back to the cottage.

The boys went home, and Carol spent the next hour phoning various people including her husband, then Dave, Drew's dad, her friend whose cottage they were in, the insurance helpline to see about a hire/courtesy car. It just went on and on.

Maddy and Gaby went into the kitchen and made some tea, which Carol gratefully accepted. "Shall we make some food?" asked Maddy, Gaby nodded agreement, and between them, they produced a simple omelette and salad. Washed down with copious amounts of wine, Carol thought it was delicious. She went to bed early, ever so slightly tiddly.

“Did you enjoy your little self today?” asked Maddy coyly, handing another plate to Gaby to dry.

“'S'alright, I s'pose, why?”

“Well Harry seemed to be getting rather friendly, that's all.”

Instead of blushing and becoming a stammering wreck as Drew, Gaby chose to respond, which surprised both Maddy and Drew. “Why, you jealous?”

Taken aback, it was a blushing Maddy who said, “No, course not, but Paul might be.”

“Wassit got to do with Paul?” continued Gaby, Drew seemingly having departed the scene, leaving this to his alter ego to deal with.

“I wondered if you were going to have boyfriends, shouldn't he have first shout?”

“Why?”

“Well,'cos like, he's fancied you for ages.”

“So?” said Gaby drying the next plate, “He's two hundred miles away, Harry is half a mile down the road. No contest.”

This really did faze Maddy, who stopped washing up and grabbing Gaby on the shoulders, looked her straight in the eye and said, “Hello, Maddy to Drew. Anybody home?”

This resulted in Gaby/Drew holding a poker face for all of a microsecond before sniggering and then giggling. “Had you worried for a moment, didn't I?”

“Who me?” asked Maddy with feigned innocence.

“Yes, you.”

“Gi's a hug.” She used one of her all-consuming hugs to distract him and it worked every time. If she really wanted to throw him, she gave him a kiss. She did and it did. Once more he left the planet, flew around the stratosphere and descended back to earth only when Maddy's lips left his own.

“I don't know Missy,” continued Maddy, “you started the day getting flowers and kissing boys, then you spend the rest of the day wandering around with him attached to you like Siamese twins, his arm around your shoulder or your waist.”

“William did the same with you.”

“Yeah, but I'm a girl.”

“So, what d'ya think I am then?” snapped back Gaby.

“Drew do you want to think about what you just said, and like, rephrase it?”

“Why, what did I say?”

“You just told me you were a girl too.”

“Well, I thought that was what I had to be this week since I only seem to be wearing skirts and makeup and I have these things sticking out of my chest. Plus, everyone seems to think I'm a girl, including you.”

“Meeeeeee?”

“Yes, “it's customary to kiss someone who's got themselves hurt defending your honour,” or words to that effect. If he thought I was a boy and had kissed him, I'd be wearing a matching black eye to the one he got. You encouraged him to think I'm a girl and for me to act like one.”

“Meeeeeeeeeeee?”

“Yes, you.”

“Now come off it, Gabs. It wasn't me who lost their trousers in the motorway bogs, nor scalded themselves, nor forgot to pack jammies or much else, come to think of it. I didn't force you to wear a skirt when we came here, nor to have your photos taken and splashed in the local rag as a girl. Neither did I talk you into pretending to be Harry's girlfriend to wind up Godzilla, any more than I made you want to race aforesaid Neanderthal on Sunday.”

“Finished?”

“I don't know, why?”

“Give me another hug, my legs hurt.”

“I thought your legs were better. Let me see.”

“They'll be alright, it's my lips that hurt.”

“Your lips?”

“Why is that?” asked Maddy putting her arms around Drew's neck.

“They need kissing.”

“How do I know you're not trying to wind me up or make Harry jealous?”

“I thought it was Paul, earlier?”

“Well alright then, wind me up and make Harry and Paul jealous?”

“You don't, but gi's a kiss anyway.”

“Oh, all right, seeing as you asked me so nicely.”

A little later as they were going up to bed, Maddy said, “What are you going to do if we are stuck down here another week?”

“Ask if I can keep the bike till we go home?”

“What about being a girl for another week?”

“How's that bloke in, A Sale of Two Titties go, ‘It's a far, far better thing I do….”

“I think you mean Sidney Carton in a Tale of Two Cities .”

“That's him, I never forget a face.”

“Drew, you are completely crazy.”

“It's being with you that does it. I reckon it's something in the glue.”

“Glue, what glue?” asked a puzzled Maddy. Drew then stuck out his chest and she smirked at him and said, “Oh, that glue.” Then after recovering, she added, “But they do make your nightie fit better.” Then she ran into her room and shut the door.

Sounds of Carol snoring stopped Drew from giving chase, he'd almost forgotten she was there. He went to his own room and sat on the bed. He reflected on his day.

He could see his reflection in the mirror, he looked like a girl in the nightdress. If he took it off, he looked even more like a girl, this was where he'd started that morning. He didn't really want to go there, but there were unresolved issues from the rest of the day.

This bike race thing, he had never wanted to win so badly. Maybe that wasn't quite a literal statement, he always wanted to win. Even if you know you can't, it doesn't stop you wanting to, and if you want it badly enough, you work at it and one day, bingo! You get there.

Okay so with some races, you can do that, practice and train and keep trying and one day you might win it. But for one-offs, it was different. Then you only had one shot at it. Beating Cheesecake, was a real priority. It was also important that he thought he was beaten by a girl.

What difference did that make? Well, Cheesecake was a real male chauvinist pig. His attitude offended both Drew as Drew and Drew as Gaby. If Drew beat him in the race, that would be much less of a slap in the face, after all, he was the British Champion at his age group. And to be beaten by quality is no disgrace.

However, to be beaten by someone he considers a lesser being than himself on account of them being a girl! Well, that would really piss him off. And a girl younger than him and so much smaller... it would humiliate him, which is exactly what Drew as Drew and as Gaby wanted. Drew was going to do the riding and win the race, but Gaby was going to rub his nose in it, and she was looking forward to it. It was Drew who was worried, just in case he couldn't deliver. He looked in the mirror again, he was worried, very worried.

What would Jenny say? his mother, a World Champion, who always knew what to do and say. How would she counsel him now? He wasn't sure, and he missed her. He missed her very much.

He climbed into bed, with eyes filled with tears. He was missing his mum, she was so far away. So far away.

He thought about phoning his dad, but it was getting late and Dave would probably be in bed by now. He was an early riser and liked to be in bed by eleven. It was that time now. It was too late. He felt very alone. The tears came and he sobbed himself to sleep cuddling the fluffy bunny Harry had bought him earlier.

About four o'clock the next morning he awoke from the strangest dream. He was back at Corfe Castle, walking the ruins on his own. He was still rapt with his concerns about the race when he almost walked into a woman, he nearly didn't see.

“Who art thou maid?” said the woman, addressing Gaby.

Gaby looked at this woman and recognised her dress as well as her language as antiquated. Shit! Was this the ghost of Lady Bankes? “Me (how do you address an aristocratic ghost?) Lady Bankes?”

“Aye, thou lookest troubled? Thou'st not with child?”

Gaby had to think what this meant and nearly responded, “No I'm here with friends.” But realised that would not have been appropriate. Damn, where's Maddy when you want her? “No, Lady Bankes, I'm not with child.”

“What troublest thou wench? Some oaf of a man I presume?”

“Yes, Lady Bankes, but not in the way you think. I have to race a boy who is bigger and stronger than I am. I want to win, much depends upon it.”

“Canst thee win? Thou springest from a line of highest pedigree.”

“Yes, I can, and you're right, my mother is a champion.”

“Very well then, go and do thy best, and may God's speed go with thee.”

“Thank you, Lady Bankes, you're a star,” said Gaby, dropping a curtsey. At this point Drew woke up having dropped the bunny rabbit Harry had given him earlier.

“What was all that about?” he said to himself as he went for a wee. He looked out the window and to his astonishment saw a deer in the garden. He rushed into Maddy's room. She took a little waking, but sleepily followed him back to his room. He had a cursory glance out the window, the deer was still there. “Look,” he said, pointing out the window.

“Look at what?” said a sleepy Maddy as she blundered up to the window. “What am I suppo……..Wow! It's a deer. Our very own deer, Gabs.”

“Hush it will hear us,” whispered Drew in response.

“Yeah, course,” Maddy hissed back. She continued watching the animal for several minutes, it moved about the garden, then strolled off hopping over the fence with no effort at all. “Wow, that was ace, Gabs. What you doin' up anyway, it's quarter past four?”

“I had a funny dream.”

“Oh, what kinda funny?”

“I was back at Corfe Castle, walking about the ruins and I bumped into Lady Bankes or her ghost.”

“Scare…….eeee,” commented Maddy.

“It wasn't actually, funny isn't it?”

“So what happened?”

“She called me, maid.”

“Well, depending on what you were wearing, it's not so surprising, is it?”

“I s'pose not, but she asked me what was worrying me? She thought I might be pregnant.”

At this, Maddy hooted with laughter, “She thought you were what?”

“Shush, you'll wake Aunt Carol.”

“Sorry,” she whispered back.

“I told her I was worried about the race, and she asked me if I could win. I told her I could, and she told me to go and do it.”

“And?”

“I feel better about it now.”

“Good, I'm getting cold, gi's a hug and I'm going back to bed.” They hugged and Maddy departed back to her own room. Drew reflecting on what had happened, shrugged his shoulders, but he felt happier about things now. He thought to himself, this was just my mind sorting things out, including where we'd been today. It all got tangled up, and his imagination did the rest. He got back into bed and went straight off to sleep, feeling calmer than he had for the previous day.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corfe_Castle

Drew Goes South Chapter 9 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

---

(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

“C'mon, Gabs, it's time to get up,” called Maddy to her sleeping cousin.

“Uh, “ replied the sleepy youth, and promptly turned over.

“C'mon, Gabs, remember you're racing today. Matt and Tim will be here soon.”

“Yeah, okay,” was the response, but the respondent was still lying down with eyes closed and obviously not awake.

Maddy went to the bathroom and returned with a wet flannel, “This is for his own good,” she told herself, as she giggled on the way back to his room. He hadn't moved and had probably drifted back to sleep. She rubbed the wet cloth over his face.

“Aaah! Wassgoin' on?” he sat up. “What you doing with that flannel?” Maddy was giggling. “It's not funny, I could have had a heart attack or something.”

“I called you nicely, but you wouldn't wake up, so I thought I'd start your shower while you were in bed. I thought I was helping.” Maddy smirked at him.

“Sometimes I hate you, Maddy Peters.”

“But today isn't one of those times.”

“I s'pose not.”

“Besides you have to keep your energy for Cheeseman.”

“Oh him, yeah, I s'pose I have. I'm going to beat him Mad if it kills me.”

“I'd prefer it didn't.” She said and gave him a hug. “In the shower Missy and I'll tell Mum to do your breakfast.”

The shower did the rest of the waking up process. Drew was not a morning person although he had been pretty good during this holiday. Now he felt a bit heavy, and he had to concentrate on the shower washing his hair and body, including the dreaded counterfeit breasts. “Much more of this, and I'll start to get used to having you,” he said to the appendages.

He towel dried and dressed in the sports bra and a pair of knickers, Maddy came in with the hairdryer and did his hair, tying it in a ponytail when she'd finished. He pulled on the red cycling shirt and shorts, then the white socks and finally the shoes.

“Don't forget your makeup,” insisted Maddy.

“But I'm riding in a bike race, not a beauty contest.”

“No that's next week.”

“What?”

“Joking,” she smirked at him again, “But it's important that Cheeseman thinks he's racing a real girly. Apart from that Harry will like it and so will his dad.”

“What's his dad got to do with it?”

“Didn't you notice the way his dad leched after both of us the other night.”

“No. Did he?”

“Get with it, Gabs, there's more to being a girl than having tits and smiling at people.”

“Is there, you seem to do quite well on it,” said Drew, his eyes twinkling.

“Look here, Missy, if it wasn't for the fact that you have to ride in a bike race, I could guarantee you would be walking with a limp for the rest of the day for that remark. I am trying to help you, you know.”

“I know, I'm sorry, I'm well aware there's more to being a girl, like shopping.”

“That's probably the most profound thing you have ever said,” replied Maddy much to his astonishment.

“It is?” he asked in a puzzled tone.

He looked her in the eye, just then she burst into giggles, “No, you great twit, but I had you worried there for a moment.” They both laughed for a moment before she pointed at his makeup and he complied with his bossy cousin's instructions.

In five minutes he'd applied some basic eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. He did it so easily, Maddy felt he looked as if he'd done it all his life. It looked fine, too. He was getting so girly in some of these things. Part of that excited her and part took her to places she would prefer not to go, not yet leastways. “Come on Lance Armstrong, watch you don't pop a bra strap,” she said as he finished, running quickly for the door. He followed behind, plotting how he'd exact revenge, one day.

It was quarter to eight when the door bell rang, Tim and Matt were early. They accepted a cup of coffee as they had time. Then they loaded up the van with the bike and as they were finishing, Harry, William and his dad drew up in their car. They had arranged to take the supporters club with them, however, Maddy went with Gaby in Matt's van, and Carol went with the boys, who were visibly disappointed.

“I've brought you another shirt if that's okay, it's another Specialized one, but with our logo on it too. I hope that's okay, I'd like you to wear it for the race.”

“Okay,” she replied then realised that changing shirts with the men around was not quite so easy in her current role. Maddy read Drew's mind and smirked. She was carrying a bag of other clothes plus towels, for after the race, though quite what the facilities were like she had yet to see.

“I'll run through the course with you when we get to Wimborne,” said Matt, “I don't envisage you having any problems, especially if you ride like you did against me. In fact you might have to borrow a bike rack.”

Gaby looked at Maddy and smirked. That was the plan, albeit a secondary one.

Matt continued, “There's a small contingent from the local club in Weymouth who usually ride this one. A couple of useful riders, especially Don Smith, he's represented the south a couple of times, does time trials too. He won it last year, now I think of it. I mentioned to him that I had a young lady riding for us and once he stopped laughing, he promised to keep an eye on you. Just in case this other kid tries anything.”

“But if he's out in front, how's he going to look after Gaby?” asked a concerned Maddy. It hadn't crossed her mind that Cheeseman might try something underhand.

“The rest of his team will keep an eye on her, so don't worry. Besides if you ride like you did yesterday, he's going to have to keep both eyes on you to stop you beating him. Honest, Tim, she went like the bloody wind, leaving me very much in second place.”

“Serves you right, I told you, you were getting old,” he laughed as he replied to his friend. “Good for you, Gaby, the old fart needed a lesson.”

“So how do you feel? Up for it?” asked Matt.

“I s'pose so,” said Gaby diffidently.

“You don't sound very confident.”

“I'll be okay I 'spect.”

Gaby stared out the window, noticing that the Bugler's car was close behind. She waved and Carol waved back. A little while later they approached Wimborne. “So what happened to the car?” asked Tim as he drove.

“Some bloke ran into us outside Wareham, on the big roundabout,” replied Maddy. “There was nothing mum could do. The garage will talk to her tomorrow about repairs and things and I hope we get a hire car as well.”

“Bit of a bummer that.”

“Yeah, but we can have the cottage for another week if we need it.”

“Well, that's useful. So if you have to stay longer, I suppose madam here will want to borrow the bike a bit longer assuming she doesn't win it today.”

“I would, if that's okay with you Matt.”

“Look kid, you go out there and do us and yourself proud today, and I think it will answer itself. Know what I mean?”

“Gaby always wants to win, don't you, Gabs?” answered Maddy.

“I don't always win though, Mad.”

“You will be up against some useful riders, Don Smith for one, but just do your best kid. If you ride like you did yesterday, you'll be a contender for the women's prize if not the overall thing.”

Suddenly they were there, at Queen Elizabeth's School. Tim unloaded the bike while Matt dealt with the registration. There was an assortment of vehicles cars, vans, campers and minibuses amongst the throng. Gaby looked around but didn't recognise anyone except those emerging from the Bugler's people carrier.

As Tim checked over the bike, he indicated to Gaby to change her shirt in the empty van, Maddy went to help. They emerged a moment later, with the red shirt proclaiming, ‘ South Coast Bikes' on the back and front in a white lettering and above it in pink sparkly lettering, ‘Gaby Bond' . Maddy tittered when she saw it, "I think they'll all know who you are in a few moments, Gabs.”

“How'd you like the shirt?” asked Matt returning with the forms.

“I dunno, cool I guess. I've never had my name on a shirt before.”

“Well, young lady, carry on like you did against me and it could well be on a pink or yellow one.” Gaby blushed thinking of the ramifications of this last statement.

Matt waved to someone, who wandered over to them. “Hi Don, how ya'doing?”

“ ‘kay Matt, you?”

“I'm fine. This is the young lady I'd like you and your mob to keep an eye on. I've marked her so there's no excuses.”

“Gaby Bond,” he read off the shirt. “Pleased to meet you Gaby, I'm Don.” Then to Matt he said, “Look Matt, you know I ride to win, but one of the others will keep an eye out for her.”

“Thanks, Don, she's not raced before,” said Matt, winking at Gaby as he said it. After Don went away, he said to Gaby, “I hope you frighten the shit out of him, like you did to me.”

Carol and the fan club arrived, “Kewl.” Declared Harry as he read the shirt Gaby was wearing. “It's got your name on it.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” said Gaby, indifferently. “It kind of marks me out a bit.”

“I think your riding will do that soon enough,” said Carol.

“Right ,” said Tim, “I've put a couple of bottle carriers on, with some isotonic drinks in them. This is the helmet with the mike and speaker, it plugs into this little transmitter which sits in the back pocket of the shirt.” It did and the test worked well. “We'll be a mile or so behind you, if you get into any trouble just yell.”
“Kewl, “said Gaby, “like being in a professional race.”

“For us this is a professional race, kiddo,” said Matt. “This is what we do, how we earn our living.”

“I hadn't thought of it like that,” replied a somewhat abashed Gaby.

“Look, Gaby, we thought long and hard before we asked you to ride with our logo. Our reputation is important in the local bike world. After seeing you ride yesterday we knew we'd done the right thing. This is a charity event, so no one is too bothered. Crap! Everyone is bothered, it'll get in the local press and the cycling press. There is no such thing as not being bothered. It all counts. Let's have a look at the route.” Matt and Gaby went off to the side of the van with a map.

“Gaby looks wonderful,” beamed Harry, who always thought the object of his affections was wonderful.

“She's in good shape,” agreed Maddy, "but she's often a bit nervous before the start of a race." Matt and Gaby returned and Gaby started warming up on the bike. “Does she know the route?” asked Maddy to Matt.

“I've gone over it. There'll be marshals and police all over the place, so it's fairly obvious. I've pointed out the tricky bits, and how to avoid them, the rest is up to her.”

“Look out here comes Godzilla,” commented William, as Cheeseman swaggered over.

“Where's Barbie?” he asked Harry.

“Get stuffed, Cheeseman.”

“Tough with all these people around, aren't you Palmer. Just watch the other eye doesn't meet with a solid object.” He scanned the throng and saw Gaby warming up. “Oh there she is pretending she knows what she's doing. Even if she does it won't help he.” With that, he wandered back to his father's car and unloaded his bike, a Cannondale. Soon he was sprinting up and down the practice area trying to intimidate Gaby, who quietly ignored him.

Drew was itching to get things started, he understood the route and Matt had driven it the day before to check it out. As a ex racer he knew his job and had advised Gaby well. Cheeseman was irritating him rather than frightening anyone and hopefully if he kept up the sprints, he'd pull something and have to retire. Certainly, he was a big lad, and in shorts his legs were quite muscular, at least compared with Drew's. Despite being attached to a champion, they were deceptively powerful, looking like shapely girl's legs they were more than capable of beating anyone of a similar age and quite a few older ones. Drew hoped Cheeseman was in this category.

After a short time, the riders were called to order and the race began. Cheeseman shot off like a rocket amongst the leaders, Drew slightly taken aback by the melee that occurred, remained with the majority of riders in the peloton.

The riders, about fifty of them, rode out of the school drive turning right at the crossroads, whilst a policeman held up the traffic for them. This really was like being in a pro race, thought Drew. He fantasised about sitting in Lance's slipstream while they headed towards Paris and the final stage of the Le Tour. Of course he was the only one who could possibly beat the legendary Texan, but he was biding his time for the final sprint.

They turned left and down a hill crossing a farmyard and along a gravel track. It was decidedly uncomfortable, even with the gel saddle. A young man to his right, commented on the rough surface. Gaby nodded a response.

He spotted the name on the shirt, “Oh very posh, riding for Matt and Tim are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Bond, that name's familiar.”

“Yeah, my dad's a secret agent and trained killer.”

“Sure he is, double oh whatever. What about your mum?”

“She's a school teacher.”

“Oh, I thought maybe she rode bikes.”

“She does now and again.”

“Like at world championships?”

“Something like that.”

“So you're Jenny's kid?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Got a brother haven't you?”

“Yeah, look I'm trying to concentrate on this race, can we talk later?”

“Sorry I spoke,” said the young man and put on a bit of a spurt. Gaby however, decided it was time to move through the ranks of the peloton.

They emerged onto a metalled road which went uphill. Here our hill climb hero shot past half the field including her previous interrogator. They crossed another road junction protected by a police officer, and finally Gaby could see the leaders. They were beginning to draw away from the rest of the field, and Cheeseman was still with them.

“Damn this bra,” muttered Drew as he felt the strap slide off his shoulder, “it would do that now, wouldn't it?” He managed to slide it back without any interruption to his rhythm.

The computer said they had gone about four miles, he dropped a sprocket and set off after the leaders. It was hard work, but about fifteen minutes later he was just behind them, exactly, where he wanted to be, like a cheetah stalking its prey, not wanting to spook them. Cheeseman was the first target, then the rest of the leading pack. There were seven of them, just sit tight and wait.

The race was really well organised, police at every road junction stopping the traffic, and most of the roads were of reasonable standard. They were doing about a steady twenty, which was how Gaby had caught them. Drew was used to the ‘even twenty five', so he had plenty in the tank, although it was going to mess up his averages.

The race continued through Gaunt's Common and up the hill to Hinton Martell. They carried on up the hill and through the village, turning a sharp left then a right. Through Tarrant Rushton and the old airfield, from where the gliders had taken off for the ill fated attempt to capture the bridges over the Rhine at Arnhem. The story formed part of the film, ' A Bridge too far.'

After the old airfield came a steep descent down ‘The Cliff', followed by a sharp left. At this point disaster overtook Don Smith, he made the corner but someone coming behind didn't and caught his back wheel. Three more piled into the crash, and it became obvious that many more could follow.

Amazingly neither Cheeseman nor Gaby were affected, in fact Cheeseman was now lying in third place, behind two riders wearing the same green and white colours, who were taking it in turns to lead.

Behind them was one more rider in a blue outfit and our heroine. They rode through Tarrant Keyneston and up a hill to Tarrant Crawford, then left towards Shapwick.

According to the computer, they had done about twenty miles, and Gaby decided to take the blue rider. A mile later, she was in fourth place and irritatingly Cheeseman was now in second, having edged past one of the green team.

Less than four miles to go, Gaby was challenging the displaced green rider. He decided he was not going to allow a girl to take him. It was a wrong decision, but in not wanting to let Cheesecake know she was stalking him, she let green man stay ahead, but he was tiring. The pace had risen; they were now doing over the twenty five miles an hour

About three miles to go, and Gaby stayed right behind the green man, easing in his slipstream waiting to pass him. Back into Wimborne, past the old mill, and Gaby went for it, leaving the green man at the crossing. Cheeseman and the other green rider were eyeing each other all the while waiting for the sprint finish, so when Gaby shot through between them at about eight hundred yards to the finish, they nearly fell off their bikes.

Real Jenny Bond stuff, thought her talented offspring. However, the other two weren't playing the game and sprinted powerfully after him. At the turn off at the school, Drew gave a final effort and won by a wheel, followed by the green man and then Cheeseman.

The fan club led by Maddy and Harry rushed over to catch both the bike and its rider as it came to stop. “You were wonderful!” exclaimed Harry.

“I ... puff, pant ... was ... puff, I... puff pant, feel ... quite ... stran…ge.” with that, Gaby collapsed into Harry's arms. He looked somewhat uncertain as to what to do.

“Lie her flat,” called Matt racing over towards them. He took charge, feeling a strong pulse, he said, “She's just fainted, give her some air.”

While she was out she was taken to the St John Ambulance, where they gave her some oxygen and she came around a few moments later. “Where am I? Maaaad!”

“It's okay, Gabs I'm here,” reassured Maddy rubbing her hand.

“Did I win, Mad, did I do it?”

“Yes, kiddo, by a wheel. Cheesecake was third.”

“Oh, good. Oh, I feel sick.” Gaby then shared her breakfast with the assembled throng. No, it was caught in a bag, and after a drink, she was well enough to go back to her friends.

“You okay?” asked an anxious Harry, beating Matt to the question by a millisecond.

“Erm, yeah, I guess so. I was dehydrated apparently. So I've got to drink some fluids all day.” Matt offered an isotonic drink, which she accepted.

“Looks like I'll have to order another bike,” he said with mock concern.

“We got some cracking photos of your sprint finish. That was one hell of a dash,” said Tim, holding a digital/video camera. “The first thing they knew about you being there was when you pissed past them, right down the middle. Risky but it worked. Your mum did something similar in the worlds didn't she?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“See told you, pedigree shows,” beamed Matt.

“So I get to keep the bike?”

“That was the deal.”

“Kewl!”

“How would you like to be the first person to race on their newest model?”

“Eh?”

“They've brought out a total carbon frame for the Dolce.”

“What?”

“Weighs less than a kilo. I happen to have one arriving next week. It's a pre production model. You can't even get them in the States yet.”

“You mean I get to ride a prototype?”

“Well, it's not quite a prototype, it's a pre-production model. But there is a race you could ride it in on Saturday.”

“Wow, I'd love to, but I'd have to check with my dad and with Aunty Carol and so on.”

Carol who had been watching from a safe distance, so as not to crowd Gaby, now came forward. “How are you feeling, Gaby?”

“I'll be alright in a minute or two,” she said taking a swig of the drink. “Will we still be here on Saturday, Aunty Carol?”

“I don't know, Gabs, depends upon the car. Why?”

“Matt has offered me a chance to ride a proto, no a pre production bike, in a race. There isn't another available in England, so it could be a once in a lifetime chance.”

“I don't know, Gaby, you'll need to speak with your father, and I don't know what stage the car will be in either.”

“I don't suppose I get to keep that one too?”

“Sorry, Gaby, I'm not made of bikes, besides it's only on loan to us from Specialized.”

“Oh, well, it was worth asking.”

“It sure was, and if we get some decent photo's you could end up in their publicity stuff.”

“Wow,” said Gaby, then caught the funny look Maddy was throwing her and she suddenly thought about the consequences of wider publicity. Someone like a major bike manufacturer would be likely to do their homework and find that Gaby is not a very substantial character, although she does feature in pictures in various papers and cycling magazines, including ‘Cycling Weekly' or the comic as Drew calls it.

This was a real dilemma. Drew would love to ride the new bike, even in his alter ego, but wasn't sure about the publicity. However, there are already photos of Gaby in various newspapers and magazines, including that one in the yellow dress his mother set up. There were flashes as he crossed the winning line, so there will probably be pictures in the local paper and it could get into the cycling press. “Geez,” he thought, “I do some dumb things at times.”

“Oh, Gabs, this is Ed Cooper from the local paper, can we give him a couple of minutes?” asked Matt. Gaby could hardly refuse.

“Hi, Gaby. Say, I like the shirt, can we get a picture of it?” He took his own photo with a digital camera. “Matt says, your mum is Jenny Bond, the world champion.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Do you want to follow in her footsteps?”

“What, like win the Worlds? I dunno. Winning a non-accredited race in Wimborne hardly counts does it?”

“No, of course not, I meant about in the future, would you like to emulate your mother?”

“Maybe, if I'm good enough. We'll have to see.”

“Indeed. What do you think Matt? Have we got a future champion in the making?”

"Without any doubt. Gaby was the youngest rider in the field today, yet she managed to avoid a pile up which claimed several more experienced riders, including Don, who won it last year. She also rode a very canny race, with a sprint finish her mum would have been proud of. I raced her yesterday, she beat the pants off me. I'm trying to get her to race next week for us in the Dorwey challenge.”

“What the race from Weymouth up and around Dorchester?”

“The very same. We have a new bike from Specialized for her to test for us.”

“That sounds pretty exciting stuff, Gaby, are you going to go for it?”

“I don't know yet, I have to check with my dad.”

“I mean, Gaby, testing a new bike, that's not something you get to do every week is it?” asked Ed, trying to draw Gaby into agreeing, because it would make a better story.

“No, it isn't.” Drew was well aware of the reporter's game and was not going to commit to anything before speaking to his dad.

“I'm sure that we would get lots more people watching if we knew you were riding. Especially with the new bike. How did you manage that Matt.”

“I have friends in high places.”

“You do?”

“Don't look so surprised Ed, remember I used to race once. It's not that long ago. Well the Specialized R&D director is a friend of mine, from when I raced in the States. I heard about the new bike, knew we had a wonderful opportunity to test it, Specialized were interested in possible good publicity, and have agreed to loan us one. They aren't available over there yet, so this is a very rare item.”

“Do you appreciate that, Gaby?” asked the reporter.

“Yes.”

“Doesn't that excite you?”

“Do you mind if I go now, I need the toilet?” said Gaby and strolled off with Maddy who was shaking as she walked suppressing a snigger.

“So you beat me, eh, Barbie? But sneaky, just like a girl.” Cheeseman stood before our two friends, he was not best pleased.

“It's not my fault you were beaten by a girl,” replied Gaby, “Please let us pass.”

“You were lucky,” sneered Cheeseman, “You couldn't do it again.”

“I wouldn't bet on that, Cheeseman, so if I were you I'd leave her alone.” Harry came racing in on his white charger to save his damsel from distress.

“Piss off, Palmer, or I'll decorate your other eye, I'm talking to Barbie, not Ken.”

“Oh that's so funny, Cheeseman, know all about Barbie dolls do you?” Harry was walking on very thin ice, it cracked.

Whack! Cheeseman caught him a blow to his other eye. He staggered about holding his face.

“You big bully,” screamed Gaby, before Drew unleashed a punch which Mike Tyson would have enjoyed delivering. It caught Cheeseman on his nose and his eyes watered just before the blood began to flow. At this point several adults intervened and stopped the fisticuffs.

“Typical Palmer, lets his girlfriend do his fighting,” shouted Cheeseman before his father led him away.

“You okay, Harry?” asked Gaby of her injured champion.

“I think so.”

“Geez Harry, did you see that? Gaby just gave Cheeseman a bloody nose.” William had just caught up with the events. “She caught him a beaut.”

Maddy had checked on her cousin, “Did you have to hit him so hard?” she whispered.

“My hand hurts,” was the reply.

After things settled down, the girls went to the toilet and a little later the prizes were presented, a cup for Gaby plus a small shield, the second and third places got a shield. The local mayor presented the prizes, and invited the winner to return and defend the cup next year, Gaby deferred on answering the invitation.

Assured there was room for Gaby and Maddy in the Bugler's car, Matt and Tim left promising to deliver the bike to the cottage on their way through. With that, Maddy and Gaby went off the toilet again where the latter washed and changed into a denim skirt and a pink top. “You could have brought some shorts, Mad.”

“If you don't like my choice of clothes you can always do your own packing. Oh, I forgot, you did and forgot everything.”

“Alright, you made your point.”

Drew Goes South Chapter 10 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

As the girls emerged from the school, Geoff Bugler watched them with interest. They were good lookers alright, but Gaby, if anything the slightly shorter one, had plenty of balls. She wins a bike race, collapsing with the effort, then clocks a great lummox of a bully because he thumped her boyfriend. He stood transfixed by the events, watching her right hand make contact with the boy's nose. She didn't half clobber him one. In fact, when the prizes were presented, Cheeseman gave her a wide berth. “If only I was twenty years younger," thought Geoff to himself, “What spirit!”

Young Palmer was sat waiting for his goddess to reappear, sporting a second bruise on his face, his whole being lit up when the girls appeared. He regarded the object of his affections, 'She is such a babe. I am so lucky. I can't think of any girl I know who'd pitch in like that against Cheeseman. He must be twice her size.'

All the teens walked back to the car and Bugler senior who was waiting for them alongside Aunt Carol. “Ah here comes our little Amazon,” said Geoff.

“Amazon, no I don't buy books online, I prefer to get them from shops where I can see them first,” retorted Gaby.

“I think Geoff was referring to the mythical warrior females of Greek legend, rather than the bookshop,” chirped Carol.

“ Exactement,” replied Geoff pretentiously.

“Wha….” added Gaby, somewhat missing the point, and rubbing her right hand which still hurt a little.

“I'm just agreeing with your Aunt Carol, Gaby, but in French, precisement, parfaitement, au juste.”

“Don't take any notice of him Gabs, he has these turns when he thinks he can speak French, but when he helps me with my homework, it's always wrong.” William Bugler had just pricked his father's balloon.

“It's not my fault if that stupid teacher of yours doesn't know what she's doing.”

“Dad, she is French, it's her native language.”

“I rest my case, we all know what the French are like all garlic and Gaulloises .”

“Eh?” said Gaby.

“A rather smelly French cigarette,” said Geoff, now well upon his high horse.

“Shall we see if we can find some lunch?” interrupted Carol, changing the subject. At this there was unanimous approval from the teens, so Geoff was forced to dismount his steed and follow the consensus. They set off for a pub he knew, and half an hour later were tucking into an assortment of hot snacks. Gaby settled for a lasagne, while Maddy had a cheesy jacket potato. As if reading Maddy's mind, Drew ate more slowly than usual, though he wasn't sure why. He had long since come to the conclusion, ‘whatever he did was wrong in some shape or form because Mad was a perfectionist.'

He also knew he was under very close scrutiny from his would-be boyfriend, and while he didn't encourage the attention, he knew that discovery of his real status would be catastrophic for all concerned. In fact, it didn't bear thinking about, so keep things simple and watch what Maddy does.

“How's your hand?” Maddy asked Drew.

“A bit tender,” replied Drew, stretching out his hand with its pink nails. A small amount of bruising was visible around the knuckles, but it almost needed a microscope to view it.

“That was so like a brave thing to do,” said Harry swelling with pride.

“Foolhardy, if you ask me,” said Carol flatly, “I'm sure Jenny didn't bring you up to fight with boys, young lady.” Given the reality of the situation, this was a preposterous thing to say, but Carol felt she had to fire a shot across Drew's bows to prevent Gaby from becoming too much of a ‘ladette', a category of girl who she considered to be beyond the pale.

“Want me to kiss it better?” offered Harry gently examining the damaged paw.

“Ugh!” squealed Gaby, withdrawing the hand before it could be kissed, bringing about a titter of laughter from everyone except Harry.

“Hard luck, son. Nice try,” laughed Geoff at the teenager's embarrassment.

After eating they went walkabout in Wimborne, exploring the ancient market town in particular the church or minster, which gives the town its proper name of Wimborne Minster, to distinguish it from Wimborne St Giles. The minster part of the name meant the church was part of a monastery or nunnery, in this case, the latter. Wimborne coming from the Old English for a meadow stream, the original name of the river, which has since been superseded by its current name the River Allen. Wimborne is mentioned in the Domesday Book 1086 and the ninth century Anglo Saxon Chronicle. so has piles of history like so much of Dorset.

After exploring the town, they set off to Badbury Rings, an Iron Age hillfort in the care of the National Trust. Smaller than Maiden Castle, its ramparts are less well defined and have scrub and small trees growing in the centre.

Local legend has it that the site is associated with the Arthurian legends and the battle of Mons Badon. Historians suggest that this is simply a similarity of name and although old enough, any association is purely fanciful. Similarly, are tales of ghostly Roman legions marching there, although the old Roman road does pass quite close to the hillfort.

Perhaps any ghostly Romans would be those from the Legio XX, that was based near Wimborne and who under the crisis of AD61 during the Boudiccan uprising, did not go to the aid of Colchester. The Roman city was sacked and the residents slaughtered. The reasons given for the inaction of the Legion were being only half strength, its commander decided they would just be slaughtered too. So he is reputed to have ignored the pleas for help. Sadly, he was ordered to ‘fall on his sword,' and the legion was disbanded in disgrace, their standards being destroyed by order of the emperor.

After scrambling about here, they set off for Kingston Lacy House but taking a vote on it, they decided they'd had enough history for the day and set off back towards home. Carol was disappointed but recognised that they didn't have enough time to do the house justice and entrance fees are not cheap. Besides, she'd have time to sort one or two things and Gaby, who was anxious about her new bike, wanted to get home.

They said goodbye to the boys and their chauffer at about four o clock. The sun which had been growing hazier was now hidden by darkening clouds and drops of rain were starting to fall. The bike was as promised, behind the garage. Whereupon Gaby opened said building and placed the new acquisition inside watched by Maddy.

“What do you want to do this evening?” asked Maddy, “Gonna read your book?”

“Nah, I mean half of it's written in italics and is about sex all the time. Like she uses the ‘F' word too much.”

Maddy nearly fell over, this was a boy complaining about the use of the ‘F' word! Was the Drew she knew and loved really being subsumed by Gaby? Was Gaby the dominant personality? At the same time, she had to admit it wasn't a word that she could honestly recall being used by Drew or the rest of the gang. There were plenty in the school who did use it, boys and girls alike, but not their little gang nor did their parents, which was probably why. So Drew or Gaby might be old fashioned, but Maddy approved.

“Are you pleased with your new bike?” she asked changing the subject.

“Absolutely, it's the best prize yet. Five hundred quid's worth plus, and all the kit.”

“What about the new shirt, it's a bit naff in't it?”

“I don't know, I think it's quite smart to have my name on a shirt.”

“Your name?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Why did they have to make it so girly though? I think it's so, like OTT.”

“What, the pink glittery stuff? I s'pose it is, but I won didn't I?” smirked Gaby, wiping the new bike until it almost shone.

“Yeah, you won the race alright, and the boxing match afterwards,” Maddy sounded a little sarcastic.

“Do you think I was wrong to hit him, then?” asked a crestfallen Drew.

“Shall we say, it wasn't the wisest course of action, particularly, like for a girl?”

“Oh!” he stopped polishing and looked embarrassedly at the floor. “I thought it was okay to help if a friend is being bashed. I mean he was attempting to protect me from Gorgonzilla.” The embarrassment momentarily lifted as Drew felt pleased with his invention of a new nickname for his protagonist.

“You could have stepped between them without decking Cheeseman.”

“What and risked being hit myself? Come on Mad, I might be blonde but I'm not completely stupid. Can you see me stepping between two boys scrapping and just ask them to stop? I'm likely to be hit by both of them.”

“Gabs, it's different for girls. Boys won't usually hit us. Think back to when you used to be a boy, I know it's a long time but…” With that, she ran laughing from the garage with Gaby in hot pursuit.

“Now girls, a little bit of decorum, please,” shouted Carol, as the two teens came racing into the house and nearly knocked her over.

“Decorations, what are you on about Aunty Carol?” asked a puzzled Drew.

“Decorum Gaby, not decoration. You are both decorative enough, decorum is behaving in a more socially acceptable manner.”

“Eh?”

“Acting like young ladies not a couple of enraged heifers,” she paused for breath before continuing, “And you Madeleine Peters, ought to know much better.”

“Yes, Ma-ma,” quipped Maddy dropping a mock curtsey.

“That's enough of your cheek young lady, for that you can get the tea; and you,” she pointed at Drew, “young woman, can go and phone your dad to tell him how you got on.”

Maddy pouted and trudged off to the kitchen, while Drew recognising a close escape also did as he was told. “Hi, Dad it's Gaby”

“Hello so… kiddo, how d'you get on?”

“I won dad, I beat Cheesecake, and I get to keep the bike.”

“Well done, are you going to tell me about it?” For the next twenty minutes Drew relived his latest cycle win, encouraged on by his father's enthusiasm. “So this kid Cheeseman, thinks he's been beaten by a girl?”

“Yeah, cool innit?”

“As long as he never finds out the difference, if he does it could become a murder enquiry.”

“What do you mean, Dad?” Drew suddenly felt a bit anxious.

“Well, he's likely to kill you twice over, once for beating him and twice for conning him.”

“Three times.”

“Three? What do you mean three? What else have you done?”

“I punched him on the nose,” this was said in a very quiet voice.

“I'm sorry, Dre… Gaby, this line is playing up. It sounded like you said you hit him, punched him on the nose. What did you say, because I missed it.”

“I did punch him on the nose.”

“It's doing it again, sounds just like you said…”

“I did, Dad, I hit him.”

“You did what?”

Almost in tears now, a weak voice said, “ I had to, Dad he had just hit Harry, who was trying to defend me.”

“Drew, Gaby whoever you are, please start at the beginning.” He listened as Drew recounted the altercation at the end of the race. “Let me get this right. He hit your boyfriend Harry, so you hit him?”

“Yes, Dad, that's just what happened.”

At the other end, Dave Bond was trying to stay calm. What on earth is going on down there? He left as a boy, but is living as a girl, has a boyfriend who doesn't know and has raced and won as a girl. Well okay, that's happened before, and Drew does make a very passable, even pretty girl. The latter is not his fault, but misleading a boy by pretending to be his girlfriend, then hitting another boy because he's beating up your boyfriend. What is happening down there?

So Carol can't bring you back for another few days, okay, she is usually so sensible, so what is happening? Then you win a bike race and get to keep the bike and you've been invited to try out a prototype ladies' bike for a major American manufacturer in another race. Gee whiz, what is going on?

“You seem to have gone very quiet, Dad.”

“Sorry son, I was trying to take on board what you've just told me. One thing worries me,” Dave said, but was thinking, “About a dozen things worry me.”

“What's that, Dad?”

“I thought we had an understanding.”

“We do, Dad,” jumped in Drew.

“Let me finish.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“I thought the arrangement was, if you are dressed as a girl, you act like one.”

“I did, Dad, I wore makeup and let Harry kiss me.” At this Dave began to wonder if it was worth making a double appointment with a psychiatrist, one for him too.

“You let him kiss you?”

“Only on the cheek, Dad.”

“Look, Gaby, if you really want to become a girl, I think we need to talk about it when you get home, and when your mother's here.”

“No, Dad, I don't. I don't want to be a real girl.”

'Is this denial? methinks the lady doth protest too much,' thought Dave to himself. “All I wanted to say was, for goodness sake, if you are pretending to be a girl act like one. Have a little decorum, for goodness sake.”

“That's what Aunty Carol said.”

“Well then, act upon it, and no more fighting. It isn't ladylike and if that boy is half as big as you said, it's tantamount to suicide anyway. So promise me, no more fisticuffs. While we're on about decorum, you be careful with leading the other boy on too. Just because you're in girl mode, doesn't mean you are one yet.” As he said this last word he realised its psychological implications, a Freudian slip.

Drew, however, seemed to miss it. “Okay, Dad. I only kissed him ‘cos he got a black eye defending Mum's and my honour.”

“Oh my God! I need to talk to Carol about this, ‘he kissed me, I kissed him, defending my honour'” Dave was practically having palpitations as these thoughts ran through his head. “Just be careful, and if your mother's honour is at stake, it's my job to defend it, not yours, especially in a bra and knickers.”

“Okay, Dad. So is it alright if I do this other race if we stay here another week?”

“I presume this means as Gaby?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Alright, as long as Carol agrees, and that you conduct yourself as a young lady, not some fishwife. Remember, people think you are Jenny Bond's daughter, please act like it. She has a reputation as a lady: I want you to emulate it.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes, Dad, I promise to act like a lady, like Mum.”

“Good girl. Do you want to speak to your sister?”

“Hi Jules,” the conversation went on for a few minutes about the race and winning a new bike and visiting Wimborne and Badbury. There was nothing about fights and kisses. When Dave related these items to Juliette later, her jaw dropped and she nearly wet herself.

“He's been kissing boys and having them kiss him, and got into a fight over a boy? Oh my goodness!” What she thought was something else, but she did promise to keep it to herself, a promise which would cause her more difficulty to keep than wondering whether she still had a brother and for how much longer.

However, she began to worry about her father when he said, “I hope he remembers he's Jenny Bond's daughter, we brought both of you up to act like young ladies. I hope he remembers that.” She watched him go muttering out to the garden to water his plants.

“Tea's ready, Gabs,” said a voice very close behind him. It startled him and he jumped and squeaked like a girl.

“Oh, Mad, you'll give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“That's okay, we did CPR remember?”

“That's not the point.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Something my dad said.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me to remember I was Jenny Bond's daughter and to emulate her, you know, be a lady and all that stuff, decorum and whatever. But it was the way he said, ‘remember you're not a real girl yet'. I don't know what he meant. Was it a fraudulent slip?”

“A what?”

“You know that psychologist bloke in the eighteenth century.”

“Oh, you mean Freud?”

“That's him.”

“He died during the Second World War; we did him in Social science.”

“Yeah, so.”

“The Second World War was in the twentieth century.”

“Yeah, I know that clever clogs.”

“So he wasn't an eighteenth-century psychologist.”

“I know, I know.”

“But you said he was.”

“Did I? Oh, it must have been one of them slip things.”

“A Freudian slip?”

“That's the one.”

“I think it's showing, Missy,” Maddy pointed at Gaby's skirt hem.

Gaby looked as well, picking up the skirt to examine it more closely. There was nothing wrong with it of course, but by the time Gaby noticed, Maddy had long gone. She followed the giggles coming from the stairs. “I'll kill you, Maddy Peters.” Then remembering what Dave had said about decorum, “No I'll knit you to death.”

After tea, the ‘girls' played board games until the phone rang and they were all invited to go to the Buglers' house, it appeared William had put his digital photos on the computer and wanted to show them to all and sundry.

It was only a short walk to their house, and they got there at about eight o'clock. Of course, Harry was there, and having seen the photos, was excited to see Gaby's reaction. In fact, he was so excitable; it reminded Carol of a near neighbour who had a cocker spaniel who was equally excitable.

“The photos are fab, Gaby, especially the one of you crossing the line,” exclaimed the excitable Harry. Drew was always happy to see photos of races he won, and was anticipating them in a positive vein. Maddy was happy to look at pictures anytime and William was looking forward to showing off.

Carol went off with Mrs Bugler and they began to sample a number of homemade wines she had. To be fair, Joyce Bugler was a very competent home winemaker, and Carol was quite a competent wine drinker. They were going to have an enjoyable evening.

“This is the start of the race.” The picture showed lots of cyclists. “The favourite,” this was a picture of Don Smith streaking away. “The outsider,” a picture of Gaby showed her concentrating on avoiding other riders at the exit to the school. “The Cheesecake,” a picture of Gaby's protagonist. “Some mid-race pickies.” William showed some pictures of the crash.

“How did you get those?” asked Gaby, “I didn't see you there.”

“Dad rushed us to the top of the cliff because he thought that's where the action would be. He was right. There's you skirting around the fallers. A few of the others falling off and some managing to avoid them. Then we rushed back for the finish. I told the police I was taking pictures for the school magazine.”

They all laughed at this. “I just didn't say which school,” more laughter. Then we come to these,” he showed a long-distance shot of Gaby being pursued by the other two leaders. “Then this,” a picture of Gaby winning by a wheel from the runner up and Cheeseman in third. “Then this, an action photo,” a picture of Cheeseman hitting Harry; “and finally,” a photo of Gaby hitting Cheeseman.

“I didn't see you take those photos,” gasped Gaby.

“No, I didn't need flash as it was quite a bright morning,” William explained, “and my camera has quite a fast speed shutter.”

“Goodness, I hope no one else took one of me hitting Cheesecake.” Suddenly the consequences of past actions occurred to the teenager. “I mean if the cycling press get hold of it, I'll be in real trouble.”

“Why?” asked Harry.

“Because of my mother. It wouldn't look too brilliant would it, headlines like, ‘Jenny Bond's daughter photographed brawling after a race.' If the press didn't crucify me, Mum would. Did you see anyone else taking pictures?”

“Not really, but I wasn't watching anyone but you lot.”

“If there's nothing in ‘ The Echo' tomorrow surely it means you're safe?” asked Harry. “I mean it was sort of self-defence.”

“That's not the point. My mum is a celebrity and you know what the press is like with any scandal. Oh hell, what have I done?” groaned Gaby.

“I think you did what was right,” beamed Harry.

“Who cares what you think, it's what the press thinks that counts,” snapped Maddy picking up the tension from Gaby, and seeing the broader implications.

At this Harry's beaming smile crumbled quickly and turned to one of anguish. He sat silently with his arms tightly folded; the rebuttal was too much for him.

“Matt knew the journalist from the local paper so hopefully he'll be able to stop anything being printed.” Gaby was grasping at straws, knowing that any real investigation would reveal everything including the gender deception. What would Drew do then? Pretend to be transsexual. It had worked at the immigration at the airport, but that would take him deeper than he wanted to go. Playing Gaby was fun at times, pretending to want to be a girl would be much more dangerous, because sooner or later officialdom would get involved. What would it do to Drew's race career? Probably kill it off altogether before it really got started. Oh shit, shit, shit!

Maddy had some insight into what Gaby/Drew was thinking and grasped his hand and squeezed it. Neither of the boys saw the gesture; they were busy looking at the condemnatory evidence on the computer screen.

“I can always delete it,” offered William.

“Well, that might help. If it's gone no one can ask you to see it,” answered Maddy.

William clicked the computer mouse a couple of times. “It's gone.”

“Thank you,” a nearly tearful Gaby said, “I think I'd like to go home if you don't mind.”

When Carol was informed of the teens' decision to leave, she hurriedly gulped down the half-full glass of parsnip wine, a decision she was to regret walking home when her legs wanted to work in opposite directions. It took the girls half an hour to get her home, and another ten minutes to push her up the stairs.

Having settled Carol, the dynamic duo had time to discuss the issue of ‘that right hook.' “What am I going to do, Mad? If there are photos, I'm finished. I mean all this could come out.”

“We don't know it's going to. You didn't start the fighting.”

“That doesn't matter does it. If there are pictures of me fighting as a girl then it won't take them long to discover I'm not one.”

“Is anyone going to be that interested, and if they are so what. You're not actually doing anything illegal. You won the race full stop, not the fastest female. Tell ‘em you're changing sex, like at the airport.”

“That would cause even more publicity, 'Jenny Bond's son has sex change,' I can see the headlines now.” Drew sat with his head in his hands.

Maddy sat alongside him, rubbing his shoulder. “So that's it then is it?”

“What?” sniffed Drew.

“Without knowing there is anything to worry about, you've just committed yourself to a sex change and as you won't be able to face the world because of the disgrace, I suppose you'll be going into a nunnery,” with that, she burst into a fit of giggles which got louder and louder.

“What's so funny? I don't think it's very funny,” pouted the wunderkind.

“Nothing..” the giggle fit continued. “I just had this picture of you in a nun's habit riding a bike.”

“What? Me a nun on a bike? Don't be so ... (snort, giggle) ... you are crazy, Maddy Peters. Gi's a hug.”

Drew Goes South Chapter 11 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

Despite the hugs and reassurances from Maddy, our hero spent a very difficult night, tossing and turning and dreaming all sorts of horrors, not least waking up in a hospital bed with a doctor stood alongside saying, “The operation was a complete success, you're a real girl now. However, you won't be able to ride a bike for several weeks.”

That dream caused Drew to wake up sweating and was so real he even checked that ‘little Andrew' was still there. Of course it was, and he was momentarily reassured, but then began to sob silently. Would he cope if he really did have to become a girl? He didn't know. He could cope for a week or two, sort of. Presumably, a longer period would become easier as it went on, wouldn't it?

“Hell,” he thought, “I'd have to take those hormone things and grow real tits.” For a moment that was so surreal, he tried to get his head around it. It might be nice having real boobs, he knew they were sensitive and gave pleasurable sensations. Unconsciously, he was stroking the false ones he had attached to his chest. Then he realised what he was doing and stopped, looking around the room to see if anyone had noticed. He felt his face flush and embarrassment flowed over him like a hot shower. There were more tears and eventually some fitful sleep.

At home his father was having an equally difficult night. After speaking to his ‘son', he called Jenny. She was busy and the conversation was brief. “Hello love, I'm a bit worried about Drew.”

“He's okay isn't he?”

“Oh he's fine, except he's got himself stuck as a girl for the whole of his holiday, I'll explain later. He won himself a new bike in a race, and he hit some bully who had hit his boyfriend.”

“What sort of bike is it.”

“A Specialized ladies' road bike.”

“Very nice. What's that about him hitting someone?”

“Apparently he's got himself a boyfriend, who got clobbered defending his honour or something, so Drew as Gaby bashed the bully.”

“I presume it was necessary.”

“I don't know, I wasn't there was I? It's the bit about boyfriends that concerns me.”

“Why?”

“They're kissing each other, that's why.”

“They're teenagers, life is all about exploring these sorts of things.”

“He's supposed to be a boy.”

“I thought you said he was in Gaby mode.”

“She is, I mean he is.”

“Well then, what's the problem, I'm sure she won't go too far, we've taught her well I hope. Besides, it's not as if she could get pregnant is it.”

“You don't seem at all concerned about this.”

“Relax Dave, Gaby has lots of common sense and Maddy is there to keep an eye on her. I don't approve of fighting as you know, but until we know the full story we can't make judgements. As for kissing boys, we have to accept that it might be a preference or a phase she's going through. I'll talk with her when I come home.”

“Don't you mean him? You sound as if we had two daughters.”

“Perhaps we have, if we do, it's Gaby's decision not ours.”

“Yes I know that and we'll stand by her and all that, but I'm concerned about it.”

“Of course you are Dave and so am I, but these things need to run their course. Look I've got to go, we've got a team meeting. I'll call you tomorrow if I can and I'll try and phone Gaby too.”

Drew's first impression of the morning was someone shaking him. As the movement and voice blundered into his consciousness, he recognised it was Maddy. He didn't really want to wake, but something she was calling to him sounded as if he should listen. Reluctantly he opened his eyes.

“Come on, Gabs, your mum is on the phone.” Maddy called. “It's your mum, she's on the phone.”

“Yeah, okay,” then the eyes closed again.

“Gabs, your mother is calling from Germany, she is on the phone, wake up you dummy. It's your mother.”

Mother and Germany seemed to penetrate a little deeper and the eyes opened again. “Mum, my mum is on the phone?”

“At last. Yes, come on, she wants to speak to you.”

“Oh?”

“What's the problem, come on she's calling from Germany.”

“It must have happened.”

“What must have happened?”

“The pictures, they must have got in the papers. She'll kill me.”

“She will if you don't go and speak to her.”

“What will I say.” Tears were flowing freely down the otherwise delicate features.

“Oh, Gabs, you are silly,” cooed Maddy hugging her cousin, “Go and talk to her.”

The ‘condemned man' slowly descended the stairs, Carol was talking to her cousin and the tone sounded sombre, “I don't know what the outcome will be. Oh here she comes. We'll talk about it later,” with that, she handed the phone to the sniffing Gaby.

“I'm sorry Mum.” Sniff, sniff.

“What for?”

“For causing a scandal.”

“Are you? I think you had better tell me all about it, young lady,” said Jenny not quite sure what was going on.

Gaby thus related the story of the race and the fight, and its consequences, the shame and the scandal she had brought on her mother's reputation.”

“So, that's why you think I've phoned?”

“Yeah, to tell me it's in all the papers.” Sniff.

“Well as far as I know it isn't. I phoned to say well done in winning yourself a new bike.”

“Wha …You mean you're not angry with me?”

“Why should I be angry?”

“For hitting someone.”

“I don't approve of fighting as you well know, and I hope you will respect my feelings and not do it again. It certainly isn't how my daughters should behave is it?”

“No, Mum.”

“So what's this about you getting to ride a prototype?”

Tears continued to flow down Gaby's face, but this time those of relief and happiness as they talked about the pre-production bike and the forthcoming race. Jenny offered advice to her ‘daughter', which the latter accepted nodding agreement and sobbing at the same time.

“As for this boyfriend of yours, what's he like?”

“He isn't really a boyfriend, I just pretended he was to annoy the bully.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.” The reply was rather quieter than the previous part of the conversation.

“Did you kiss him?”

“Yes, but I won't do it again, promise.” More tears rolled down flushed cheeks.

“Don't be silly darling, if you're his girlfriend you can kiss him if you want to. He sounds very nice and quite kissable.”

“Yuck, I only did it because he got hurt sticking up for me.”

“Quite right too. Look, Gabs you have a lot to learn about being a girl, so I suggest you let Maddy guide you.”

“If I have to.”

“Look I have to go sweetheart, be good and good luck with the new bike and the race, send me a text of the result.”

“‘Kay, Mum, love you too.” Gaby put the phone down and Maddy handed her a tissue.

“Is everything cool?” Maddy asked, concerned about the tears.

“No it isn't; she said it was okay for me to kiss Harry.”

Maddy stood open mouthed for several seconds, then a huge grin spread across her face. “She said what?”

“You heard, it's not funny.”

“You wait till I tell Harry, ‘Harry, it's okay for you to kiss Gaby, her mum says so'.”

“Don't you bloody dare.”

“Gaby, language please. Now are you going to have breakfast before you shower or after?” called Carol from the kitchen.

Drew elected for breakfast which meant Maddy got the shower first. The recent trauma had reduced his appetite so he only had a large bowl of cornflakes and half a loaf of toast with marmalade, washed down with a mug of tea. “How can you eat that much and stay as thin as a lath?” asked Carol.

“Cycling, lots of it.” He smiled back, Carol wasn't in any way overweight but she controlled what she ate to make sure of it. Maddy was occasionally food conscious, but she had a lovely figure. It was very similar to his, especially with the breast forms attached, but that was a road he wasn't going to cycle down, even if he knew it in his heart of hearts.

“I have to go and see the garage today, Joyce is going to take me. You can come or do your own thing.”

“What does Maddy want to do?”

“She said she didn't mind. The rain has stopped now and it looks as though it will be nice again.”

“Can we go out on the bikes? I thought I'd like to find out a bit more about this race on Saturday if we're still here.”

“I can't see them doing the car much before then, so I suppose if you want to test the bike you can.”

“Auntie Carol, you are the best,” Drew jumped up and gave her a tight hug.

“Gaby, please show a little restraint. Remember a bit of decorum, young lady and no more fighting.”

“I promised Dad I'd be the perfect daughter, emulating my mother. It will probably kill me.” This was said in a sotto voce, and with eyes tightly fixed on the floor, there were the beginnings of tears forming. “Why does everyone want me to be a girl, Auntie Carol?”

Comforting him with a hug she said softly, “They don't sweetie-pie, but you are stuck in the role for a few more days aren't you?” She felt rather than saw him nod a response. “And let's face it, you are good at pretending to be a girl, and a very pretty one. Apart from your undoubted prowess on a bicycle, which is unusual in a girl, they would hardly be letting a boy test this bike on Saturday would they? It is a ladies' bike isn't it?”

“Yes,” he said, as a tear dripped off his nose and onto Carol's hand.

“As a boy you are a champion, that's been proven. As a girl you can relax and have some fun. It was important to beat that bully boy yesterday, and you did, making the humiliation greater. So from now on, all you need to do is have some fun. You don't have to win all the time; being a girl means sometimes allowing other people to have fun too.”

“Do I stop other people from having fun then?” another tear dripped from his nose.

“No, of course you don't, I'm not sure what I'm saying really, except to lighten up. You don't have to be Jenny Bond's child unless you are racing. She is big enough to safeguard her own reputation, so just enjoy yourself a bit. Does that make sense?”

“I think so. I'd best go and shower.”

As he showered, the breast forms made him very aware of his temporary role. He washed around them. Maybe having his own wouldn't be so bad; at least he'd be able to feel something other than a distant pressure. Why did his mum say he could kiss Harry? That was really strange. At the same time he had kissed and been kissed and didn't get struck by a thunderbolt. It was nothing like when he'd kissed Maddy, then his heart soared. Kissing James at the conference and since then being kissed by Clive and now Harry, it was different. Partly it was different because he wasn't really there, it was Gaby and Gaby wasn't real. Or was she? At times in the past week he felt as if it was Drew who wasn't real and Gaby was the authentic person. He washed himself faster, showers were dangerous places they caused you to be naked in more ways than one.

He towel dried and was pleased to don the bra and pants he'd left out on the bed. He was getting more like Maddy each day, ooer; talking of the devil, she strolled into his room. “So what we gonna do today, practise kissing?”

“That's not fair,” he replied, looking in the drawer for a suitable top to wear with the shorts.

“Alright then, don't kiss me,” pouted Maddy with a twinkle in her eyes.

“I didn't think you mea … can I change my mind?”

“ I ‘spect so,” they hugged and kissed briefly, and once again his spirits soared above the planet and round the solar system. Maybe he did need to kiss Harry and see if it happened then. That needed further consideration.

“So what we gonna do then?”

“I'd like to go and find out more about this race on Saturday; Auntie Carol has said I can take part in it.”

“Okey-dokey. How we gonna get there?”

“We can cycle or catch the bus.”

“Bike it?”

“Yeah, I'd like that,” as Drew said this, the doorbell rang, it was Joyce for Carol and with her were Harry and William. Drew muttered something under his breath, but continued putting on the makeup at which Maddy had pointed.

The girls descended the stairs, and Maddy with a touch of mischief embraced both boys and pecked them on the cheek. She turned around with twinkling eyes and stepped aside for Gaby to do the same. She did, after giving Maddy one of her looks. She had been practising them for a couple of days now, having watched Maddy more carefully, after all she was a past master at them. Maddy momentarily sniggered, Gaby really was getting the hang of this girly stuff, she would have to be careful or granny would be learning how to suck eggs.

“We heard you were riding into Weymouth, can we tag along?”

“If you want,” said Gaby shrugging her shoulders. She looked at Harry, the bruise on the first eye was fading but the other was now slightly discoloured. She gently held his chin and touched the bruise, “Does it hurt?”

“Not much,” he lied, she was touching him. “You can kiss it better if you like.” Aware that Maddy was stifling a snigger, Gaby decided to call the bluff and lightly pecked him on the bruised area. “Doesn't hurt at all now,” he triumphed.

“We're off now, kids. I don't know how long we shall be. Can you sort out your own lunch?” They all nodded in response. “Have a nice time and be careful on those bikes. See you later then.” With that, the two women left in Joyce's car, an old Ford Fiesta.

The teens, having each checked they had some money, left too. Maddy had passed Gaby her little bag with its little purse and her make up inside it. She also was responsible for the key to get back in.

Helmets on, and Gaby added cycle mitts, rarely riding without them; then it was out with the bikes from the garage, Maddy's rented Giant, Gaby's Specialized, and the boys jumped on their bikes too. Half an hour later they coasted into Weymouth, and made their way to Matt's shop.

“Hi Gaby, Maddy, boys,” called Tim. “Come to see the pictures?” He called them up on the computer; the start and finish were in video. The finish was especially good, and he'd also managed to take some single still shots. How they didn't know, but the one of Gaby winning by a wheel, and sprinting between the other two were brilliant. “We're going to use these two for some publicity shots. I'm tempted to get one of your mum and call it ‘Queen Jenny' then I could put these alongside and call them ‘Princess Gaby', what d'you think?”

Gaby was blushing and shaking her head. “Do they need to be labelled at all? I mean, I'm wearing like my name on my shirt, and the name of the bike is clear, so is your logo. Isn't anything more, like excessive?”

“You could be right, That's certainly a thought, if they're big enough, people will be able to see all that, and if we use them in any leaflets, we could just name you and the race. I'll talk to Matt.”

“Where is Matt?” asked Maddy, “I thought we came here to talk about the new bike.”

“That's where he is, he's gone to Southampton airport to get it. So are you going to ride it for us?”

“Looks like,” answered Gaby.

“Thought you might. It is tempting. Usually they give the job to some oik from a cycling mag, but as most of them are men, we managed to pull this one. There will be a chat with someone from Cycling Weekly or Cycle Sport , just to get your opinion of the bike, I hope that's okay.”

“I s'pose so. So when do I get to try it. I'm surely not going to ride it for the first time in the race?”

“No, course not, however, given its value, I think Matt intends to ride with you during some training runs. Is that okay?”

“Sure, maybe Maddy could come too on my bike.”

“I'm sure that would be fine with Matt, having two pretty girls with him, just make sure you don't show him up too much. He's an old fart I know, but leave him a bit of pride.”

“I don't know about that,” Maddy said, “I'm not sure I'm up to riding with those two.”

“Course you are, Mad,” chorused the others. “In fact we could come as well,” added Harry.

“You've seen the wunderkind in action, are you sure you're up to it? I've ridden with her several times and I know I'm not,” Maddy said, seriously challenging Harry's idea.

“We'll see,” quipped Gaby trying to pour oil on the troubled waters, but feeling unsure of the outcome. To put the bike through its paces needed a bit of space and time. It was likely to be fast, faster than the bike she was already riding and probably as fast if not faster than Drew's bike at home. Maddy would struggle to keep up, Matt possibly might. However, it wasn't about a race, the tests would be to try it on hills and on the flat, five or ten miles would be enough and the sprint stuff didn't need to go on for very far. So while they would struggle to keep up, it wasn't a race. If it was, they'd be dead in the water.

“I'll do you some copies of the pictures, and if you have your mobile, I'll give you a bell when Matt gets back.”

Maddy had hers, so gave her number. They left the bikes at the shop and wandered the half a mile or so into Weymouth. They stopped at a newsagent's shop when they saw the newsboard outside. ‘ Race won by local team. After race fracas, exclusive pictures.”

“Oh no, it's happened,” exclaimed Gaby, who felt a sudden void in her solar plexus area.

“What has?” asked Harry, then saw the board. “Oh.” The others gathered to see. “I'd better get a copy and see what they've written,” volunteered Harry.

“Oh God, Mad, what am I going to do?” said Gaby starting to tremble.

“It'll be all right, just wait and see.”

“I don't think I can face it, my mother will kill me. Where is Harry? It shouldn't take this long to buy a paper.”

“Relax, there's probably a queue,” said Maddy trying to comfort her cousin.

“I can't stand it. I feel sick.” Gaby rushed off to a nearby green space and was heard retching behind a bush.

“You alright, Gabs?” Asked a breathless Maddy from the other side of the bush.

“Ugh, get me away from here.”

“What's the matter?”

“There's several old syringes behind there. They could contain all sorts of diseases.”

“Come on, Gabs, let's go sit over there on the seat and wait for the boys.”

They saw the boys approaching, Harry had a paper in his hand and William was carrying some drinks. They were laughing and joking as they walked towards the girls. “What are they laughing at? Do you think they know the truth? Oh God this is too much.”

“Stop worrying and wait until you see what it says.”

“It's alright for you; you've got nothing to hide.”

“Neither have you so stop worrying,” said Maddy through a smile she beamed at the boys.

“You okay, Gabs?” asked Harry sitting next to her, William sat alongside Maddy. “Give her a drink, Will.”

“Orange or cola?” asked William. Gaby opted for the cola.

“The pictures are brill,” commented Harry.

“Oh no,” thought Gaby.

“Apparently there was a race in Weymouth on Saturday which ended in a big fight. Six people got arrested,” he was laughing, “Silly buggers.”

“Is there any mention of my race?”

“Only this bit entitled, ' Like Mother, like daughter.'

“Lemme see,” gushed Gaby, grabbing the paper. She scanned the page and there was the headline with a picture of her standing alongside Matt. The logos on the shirt were all easily readable. It said:
' Gaby, daughter of World Champion cyclist Jenny Bond, wants to emulate her mother by becoming a cycling champion. She showed how she might just do it by winning the Wimbourne 25, despite stiff opposition from local and other invited riders. The nail biting climax, won by Gaby, incidentally the youngest entrant and first female winner, was the most exciting in years.

Speaking to our reporter Ed Cooper, the beautiful teenager modestly regarded her win as a day's work, but was excited to be asked to ride a new pre-production bike from the US manufacturer, Specialized, which bike-shop owner Matt Davis has managed to borrow from its makers.

‘We got Gaby to ride for us in the Wimbourne race because we felt she had the talent to do very well, and to encourage other young women to ride in races. It isn't all for the tough guys like Lance Armstrong, and like her mum she showed that the fairer sex can also do well. I think she handled the race as well as her mother would have done, so we've asked her to try this new bike, which is one of only half a dozen in the world, and to race it on Saturday in the Dorwey 25. I think she will do very well, and she likes to win.”

'Does Matt feel she could copy her mother's achievements? Without a doubt we are looking at a future national and possibly world champion.' Praise indeed, why not come and watch this Echo sponsored race, and see Gaby and the new bike taking part.'

“You're a star Gaby Bond,” pronounced Harry planting a kiss on Gaby's cheek.

“But I told them I didn't know if I would race,” gasped Gaby.

“Matt knew you wouldn't be able to turn down an opportunity like this, so did I,” quipped Maddy, smiling, “So the nerves about the squabble were unnecessary.”

“I s'pose,” admitted our heroine.

“It's your guilty conscience.”

“Eh?” Gaby looked puzzled.

“She has a dreadful secret,” Maddy was grinning from ear to ear; surely she wasn't going to blab.

“Tell all,” urged William.

“Well it's ...” Maddy looked at Gaby who was looking very agitated,“… She's in love with David Millar.”

“Who?” echoed the boys.

“David Millar the world champion time trialist. She has a poster of him by her bed.”

Relieved that Maddy was doing a wind up, Gaby started to relax. She felt exhausted, and a few minutes later was leaning against Harry's shoulder and drifting off to sleep. Harry felt honoured to be used as a pillow by his love, and he put an arm around her as she snuggled in tighter and drifted deeper into her slumber. Maddy and William nipped off to get some sandwiches from a local shop while Harry sat smirking at his good fortune, to be alone with the girl of his dreams even if she was fast asleep.

He contemplated her sleeping face; she was very pretty with delicate features and lightly tanned skin. He could see her long shapely legs, which he found hard to believe could power a bike like they did. But then girls always were an enigma to Harry. Maybe that bloke was right when he claimed men were from Mars and wome, Venus. They seemed as if they were from different planets.

He looked at the sleeping beauty in his arms. How could she know how he felt, she was a girl and he was a boy, they seemed to be very different in so many ways. Boys seemed to do sport and things girls seemed to do fashion and makeup. Boys had fights, girls did emotions. They even spoke differently, although Gaby didn't seem as different in her speech as Maddy. Maddy was really girly, Gaby had a bit more … what was the word he wanted, spunk. That was it, she had more balls. In the midst of his reverie, the others returned with freshly made rolls.

“Wake up sleeping beauty,” called Maddy, shaking Drew's arm.

Drew was miles away, Lance Armstrong was nearly at the top of the mountain and Drew was gaining, he put on a spurt and just as Lance was in his sights, Maddy woke him up. “Whassup?” he said rubbing his eyes and smearing mascara all around them.

“You look just like a panda,” said Maddy, smiling at him.

“Wha?”

“You have just smudged make up all around your face.”

“Oh no. What shall I do?”

The two boys looked on bemused as Maddy took charge. She produced a pack of tissues, then holding one against his mouth said, “Lick.” Gaby did as instructed and Maddy did her best to clean up the mess. After which she handed Gaby her bag, and told her to do repairs.

Harry watched intently as Gaby, with enormous concentration and equal amounts of self-consciousness reapplied the mascara. “I don't know how you can put that stuff on your eyes without poking one of them.”

“It's easy, innit, Gabs? It just takes years of dedicated practice. That's right isn't Gabs?” Gaby who had her mouth open while trying to avoid damaging her corneas just made a ‘uh-uh' noise, but it could have been anything. “Why do you wanna try some?”

“No thanks,” said Harry, trying to sound as butch as he could.

At this point, Gaby, who had finished risking serious ophthalmic damage, joined in the boy baiting. “Here let's see what you look like with a bit of massy,” and lunged towards William, who jumped up and ran away pretending to be scared.

Gaby, mascara applicator in hand stepped towards Harry, who sidestepped her, put his arms around her pinning hers to her side, then kissed her on the mouth. Astonished, she stood still while he did it. Something inside fluttered, it wasn't too bad. Or was it?

“It's okay, Harry; her mum said she could kiss you,” called Maddy from a safe distance.

Bewildered, because something bad had happened, or had it? Perhaps confused because something bad hadn't happened, or had it? Was this two boys kissing, or a girl and a boy, or a boy and someone he thought was a girl.

Harry was on cloud nine. He'd got up the courage to kiss a girl on the mouth and it felt so good.

Inside the bear hug, Drew was becoming assertive, “Let me go,” he wailed.

“If you give me another kiss,” said Harry.

“Get stuffed. I never want to see you again, now let me go.” At this tirade Harry's beaming smile rapidly faded. He released the girl and stood back as she stormed off and sat crying on the bench.

“I'm sorry Gabs, I didn't mean to…”

“Get lost!” she snapped back, turning her shoulder against him.

'Oh damn!' thought Maddy, 'just as it was getting interesting, Drew came back. Now I'll have to calm him down.; “Give us a few minutes,” she said to Harry and William, who did as they were told and wandered off round the block.

“You dickhead,” snapped William, “You've probably blown it for both of us to have a snog now.”

“I thought she was up for it.”

“Well you were wrong, you moron.”

“Okay, okay I'm sorry. I just wanted to kiss her; I hoped she'd want to kiss me.”

“How about asking her next time?” snapped William again.

“So you've had your first kiss as a girl,” said Maddy.

“No I haven't, that was Clive, remember?”

“He was pissed as a newt, so it doesn't count.”

“Oh, I thought it would.”

“So what was it like?”

“Horrid.”

“Really, I thought you were enjoying it,” continued Maddy.

“I nearly did for a moment, until…”

“You realised who was what, and Drew came back.”

“Something like that.”

“Pity,” she almost sighed at him.

“Why?”

“Because then you might understand what being a girl really feels like.”

“I don't know if I want to.”

“Why not? in few days Drew will be back full time, and the opportunity might never happen again.”

“Why do you seem to want me to kiss a boy? I'm not gay.”

“Gabs, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, but you have been like so girly this last week or so, and I thought it would be an opportunity to experience something you might never do again.”

“Too right.”

“I mean, what harm would kissing him do. We're going home in a few days time. He can't go any further, because he can't, or you can't anyway. The biggest danger is you might like it.”

“I don't want to. Okay? I don't want to.”

“All right. But at least accept his apologies. He misinterpreted your body language, that's all.”

“Whadd'ya mean?”

“You were fast asleep cuddled into him, head on his shoulder.”

“What?”

“It's true, so what was he supposed to think? It hardly told him to pee off did it?”

“I was asleep cuddled into him?” Drew said this with almost a glazed look in his eyes.

“Yes, I told you.”

“Geez, I'm gonna have to get back to being a boy soon, or I'm in deep doo-doo.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm turning into a girl. Geez, Maddy! I'm turning into a bloody girl.”

Drew Goes South Chapter 12 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

---

(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The boys returned about twenty minutes later, by which time Maddy had calmed Gaby down and also tidied up her face for the second time. She had used one of her hugs to make things better and her cousin seemed much easier.

Maddy had little doubt that Drew's fear of turning into a girl was unreal; despite his apparent ability to mimic her or other girls, it was mimicry and not the real thing. Or at least she was pretty sure that was all it was; it was simply now and again something happened which challenged her assumptions, yet there was rarely anything to get hold of, to notice any pattern developing. The main one had been the primping while getting ready to go out somewhere.

The performance in front of the mirror, especially when he didn't think anyone was looking; was really very feminine; possibly even female. Then, once or twice she had seen Drew examining himself in the mirror when naked or wearing very little, perhaps only lingerie; experimenting with poses and looking like a very sexy girl. What she wasn't sure about, was why he was doing it. If it was for the same reason she did it, then her assumption was wrong and he could have a strong female side. If that was so, then she was much less certain of what the future held for him or both of them.

It seemed incredible that the legs which could win gruelling bike races looked so good in a skirt. His knees were smooth, not knobbly, he had wide hips and a bigger bum than most boys. His shoulders were relatively narrow and his voice hadn't broken. Then his pretty face; even when he was trying to be a boy he was often mistaken for a girl. In fact; they looked more like sisters than cousins, and twins at that. Maybe his future was less certain than she thought. All she knew was that she was very fond of him and no matter what he ultimately decided to do she would support him.

So, if his protests were misleading, and inside he really did feel he was a girl then, provided it was what he really wanted she would always be there to help him, or her.

“I got these for you, Gaby, and to say I'm really sorry.” Harry presented his peace offering to the seated Gaby. It consisted of a box of chocolates and some flowers he'd seen at a garage they'd passed.

Maddy and William watched the real-life soap opera unfolding before them. Gaby, looking very uncomfortable accepted the gifts with a degree of graciousness, that pleased Maddy giving her a lump in her throat.

“Thank you,” said a very quiet voice.

“Am I forgiven?” asked Harry, trying to keep up some form of eye contact, but he found it too difficult and looked at her knees instead.

“I s'pose so. Maybe I overreacted,” continued the quiet voice.

“No it was my fault, I should have asked you first. I got carried away. I'm sorry,” he was blushing like a tomato.

“It's okay, just don't do it again.”

“Are we still friends?” he asked looking still at her knees.

“I s'pose so.”

“Thank you,” He said, then nearly blew it by adding, “you have very pretty knees.”

At that point, William intervened and said, “How about we eat these sandwiches before they go stale?” Maddy agreed and the tension was reduced.

They ate their lunch and wandered around the inner harbour; admiring the variety of boats moored there. Some are small obviously designed for pottering about just offshore, whilst others were large multi-berth things with prices defined as multiples of millions of pounds.

If you walk across the footbridge at the top end of the harbour, you can see the sluices which empty from Radipole lake, and usually, there are fish there. Depth of water determines what might be about; low tide tends to show small schools of tiddlers, probably fry. In deeper water, one can often see small groups of mullet zipping about, looking for food.

The day Gaby and friends walked across the bridge; there was also the corpse of a dead pigeon, floating in the harbour. It is thought, the birds either try to land on the water after dark or, simply fall in off the bridge. Gaby tried not to look at the dead bird but she couldn't avoid it. It made her think for a moment about mortality. She didn't like the idea of people or things dying, but at the same time knew everything did. However, when one is thirteen it isn't something that is dwelt upon.

She walked on; Harry spotted some fish and they crowded around to watch the three or four mullet swimming around. It felt almost voyeuristic to Gaby; who had never heard the word, but felt a sense of pleasure in feeling, that she could see the fish, without them being able to see her. It probably wasn't true, as fish can often see from under the water, but ten or more feet above; they were no immediate danger.

After crossing the bridge; they went around by the edge of the lake to use the underpass. They paused to watch some small children with their grandparents; feeding a flock of ravenous ducks and a couple of swans. Gulls were gathering overhead, and once or twice stole the bread practically from the beaks of the slower ducks.

“I wish we'd brought some bread,” said Maddy, which Gaby echoed.

“I'll go and get some if you want. Only take a few minutes,” with that, Harry ran off with William in hot pursuit. The girls sat on a bench waiting for them to return.

As they sat, enjoying the antics of the excited toddlers and the frenzied fowl, Maddy was about to say something, when Gaby said. “Isn't that Gorgonzilla across the other side of the lake?” she nodded towards a figure who was walking rapidly but somehow shiftily, towards the Swannery car park.

“He looks as if he's up to no good,” suggested Maddy.

“Just what I was thinking,” chirped Gaby. The boy kept turning around as if to see that no one was watching or following him. A moment later, the boys came back puffing and panting after their run to the shop.

“Is that Cheeseman?” asked Maddy pointing to the boy.

“Yeah, looks like it,” sighed Harry, feeling his freshest bruise.

“What do you reckon he's up to?”

“How would I know. I'm only his punch bag,” said Harry.

“He looks suspicious. Let's follow him,” added Gaby.

“What for?” replied William.

“I think he's up to something, come on let's go.” Gaby led the group back over the bridge.

“What about this bread?” asked William.

“We'll eat later,” hissed Gaby, “Come on or we'll lose him.”

“This isn't an Enid Blyton story, Gabs, we're not the Famous Five you know,” panted Harry as they increased their pace.

“I may be a girl, but I can count,” quipped Gaby, as she began to speed up even faster.

“I didn't mean it like that., Harry sighed defensively.

“What did you mean then?” snapped back Gaby.

“You don't know he is up to anything, and even if he is, he is bigger than us and his friends are likely to be, too.”

“Are you chicken?”

“No, not at all,” panted Harry, “How do you know he's up to something?”

“Feminine intuition.” retorted Gaby, at which, Maddy chuckled quietly.

“What's that supposed to mean?” asked Harry.

“It means, stop whingeing and keep running.”

They burst into the car park just in time to see Cheeseman walk into the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds) nature reserve.

“Why is he going in there?” asked Gaby, “It's not as if he's carrying a pair of binoculars or a telescope.”

“You can walk right around it, people jog or walk their dogs around it.”

“He's up to something. I just know it.” They followed at a discreet distance as he walked towards one of the hides.

“What're we going to do now?” asked Harry, “This path only leads to the hide, and there's nowhere for us to hide. It's a single track on boards over the marshy bit.”

“Reed beds,” corrected William.

“You lot can stay here, but I'm going to see what I can see,” with that, Gaby trotted on down the path; her trainers making very little noise as she moved.

“Well, we can't just let her go by herself,” said Maddy and flew off after her cousin.

“Oh hell!” puffed Harry and ran after Maddy, with Wiliam just behind him.

As luck would have it, they saw Cheeseman coming back out of the hide and Maddy spotted a tree with a small path leading to it. It was off-limits to visitors, but this was an emergency. She shot down the path followed by the boys, and they hid behind the willow tree until they saw Cheeseman walk past and away from them.

“Where's Gaby?” whispered Harry.

“There.” Pointed Maddy as she spotted our eponymous hero sneaking back from the front of the hide. They ran to join her.

“He went in here by himself, and I heard him lifting something, then there was some rustling like a plastic bag, some more scraping and then he left. I couldn't quite see where he was, but I reckon it won't take us too long to search the place.”

“Whaaaat?” asked Harry.

“Come on we're wasting time.” They followed Gaby into the hide. It was relatively dark. They also needed a lookout. William volunteered, and by standing at one of the side slits, he could see anyone approach. The rest began a search.

In the dark it wasn't easy, they tapped the side panels and looked at the floor. It all seemed solid. The basic wooden benches held no place to leave anything. Gaby stood and thought; where weren't they looking. Then she spotted it, a small niche where the roof beams met. There was a hint of a plastic bag. They pulled up one of the benches and Harry was able to just reach it. He stretched and pulled out the bag. He handed it to Gaby, who looked inside.

“Crikey, there must be two hundred pounds in here,” she quickly counted the money, “two hundred and fifty.”

“There's someone coming,” hissed William.

“Quick shove it back.”

“What?”

“Shove it back, it isn't ours. Hurry,” Instructed Gaby, and Harry did as she said.

They had just put the bench back when a couple of bird watchers entered. “Anything much about?” they asked.

“Dunno,” quipped Gaby cheekily, “I only came in for a sit-down.” The four teens left and walked briskly away from the hide. When they were a safe distance away, Gaby said, “Why would he leave two hundred and fifty quid in a hide in the middle of nowhere.”

“A collection point, like a dead letter drop,” beamed William.

“A dead what?” asked Maddy.

“In spy stories, a place where the spies leave stuff for each other.”

“Drugs?” asked Harry.

“That's what I was thinking,” Gaby concurred and Maddy nodded her agreement. “Let's go back and feed the ducks, and while we're doing it I'm going to phone that policeman.”

“You can't,” said Harry, "we have no proof he put it there, or for what reason.”

“That's for the police to decide,” replied Gaby.

“You can't phone the police,” said Maddy throwing the last of her bread to a group of coot who squabbled with each other over it.

“Why not?” asked Gaby in high dudgeon.

“Two reasons,” chirped Maddy, “You haven't got your phone with you, and the card with their number on, is back on the sideboard, in the cottage.”

“Oh bugger,” Gaby exclaimed, and the others laughed as the tension broke.

“Come on let's get back to Matt's shop, see this bike and get home.” It was unanimously agreed and half an hour later, they were at the shop.

“Hi kids,” greeted Matt, “Tim's just checking the bike over.”

“Mind if I watch?” asked Gaby, who loved everything bike, including the workshops where they were built, repaired and serviced.

“How's it going, Tim?” asked Gaby.

“Fine, give me another ten minutes.”

“Mind if I look around.”

“No, not at all. Just watch you don't get yourself dirty.”

“I'll be good,” quipped Gaby smiling broadly, thinking about her promise to her mum and what Tim would have said if he'd known he'd been dealing with a boy.

“There you go,” Tim declared pushing the bike to Gaby.

“Wow, isn't it light?” she observed, lifting it.

“Frame's less than a kilo; twenty-seven speed; S works Armadillo tyres. It's a lovely bike.”

“Can I try it?” she asked excitedly.

“Check with Matt first, but that's why it's here.”

“Matt, Matt, when can I try the demon machine?” Gaby charged into the shop where Matt was talking to a customer.

“Excuse me,” he said to the customer, “Take it up and down the road but stay in sight.” He then returned to charming his customer.

“Isn't that the girl who was in the paper?” asked the customer.

“Yep, and that's the bike she's riding.”

“Can we watch her?” asked the customer.

“Course we can,” they strode to the door. Matt was a bit irritated, he wanted to be out there watching Gaby put the bike through its paces. Instead, he should be wrapping up this sale and then watching the bike.

Gaby went whizzing past, then a couple of moments later flew past the other way. She pulled up at the shop, “It fair flies along,” she gasped, slightly out of breath.

“When will one of those be available?” asked the customer.

“Next year, sometime. They haven't given us dates yet, this is a pre-production model.”

“I want my daughter to have the best I can afford.”

“I'm sure you do, these are going to be about fifteen hundred. Are you sure you need such a high-performance model? Gaby here, won the Wimborne race on a lower spec similar bike, only a third of the cost.”

“I don't know,” said the customer scratching his chin. “What's the other bike like?”

“Gaby, can you show this gentleman your Dolce?”

“Sure Matt,” she said handing him the carbon bike. She disappeared into the shop; re-emerging a moment later with her own bike.

“Can you ride it up and down the road for me to see?” the customer asked.

She nodded and sped up and down the road a couple of times. She then pulled up in front of the shop. “Is it a good bike?” he asked of her.

“Yes, very good. If we didn't have the new one to test, I'd happily ride it on Sunday.”

“Perhaps you are right, Matt. Order me one of those. Thank you, young lady, good luck with your race.”

“Thank you,” replied Gaby.

Matt tied up the sale, thinking, 'I knew this association with Miss Bond is going to do well for the shop. When she really does flower, and becomes a champion, then we really could do well. Must keep in touch with her, and she's such a nice kid.' “Well, young lady, let's go give this bike a test,” said Matt as he collected his S Works Roubaix from the back of the shop.

“That's not the bike you had the other day,” said Gaby as he brought it out into the road.

“No, this is my race bike,” he smiled at her, thinking, ‘I might just stay with her on this.' Seeing the apprehensive look on her face he added, “Don't worry girl, we're not racing, are we? But if you do take off, I might need something to help stay with you.”

At this, she smiled, and, waiting for the others to come out of the shop with their bikes said, “Did you let me beat you the other morning?”

“No, you beat me fair and square,” he smiled as he said it. “You have great potential, young lady, the problem is it's bloody hard work to realise it.”

“I enjoy training,” she smiled back at him.

“I thought you might. Come on, slow coaches,” he called to the others.

“Can I use your bike, Gabs?” asked Maddy.

“Course,” she replied.

They set off in a westerly direction towards the village of Chickerell and then veered off towards Portland. This entailed a short pull up a hill, down for a short time, then a long pull up Lanehouse Rocks Road. The road is straight with quite a steep hill for between a quarter and half a mile. “We're going to Portland, kids. If you lose us, just follow the signs on the main road. Meet up at the Portland Heights Hotel,” called Matt, thinking, ‘Gaby and I will be on our way back before you get near there.' He was probably correct.

The boys knew their way around in any case, which meant Maddy had to ride to their pace, once it became clear Gaby and Matt were not waiting around. They struggled up Lanehouse Hill, Gaby and Matt powering their way up at twice the speed of the stragglers. Then a left and a right, around the roundabout, and they were on Portland Road, on the outskirts of Wyke Regis. Wyke is the other half of Weymouth, which is a combination of Wyke and Melcombe Regis. Two ancient boroughs, now only existent as suburbs and electoral wards for local councils.

The road from Wyke to Portland is downhill, all the way to Ferrybridge. The Isle of Portland is joined to Dorset courtesy of Chesil Beach or bank. It runs for nearly twenty miles along the west coast and is unique in the world.

In living memory, there was a ferry between the mainland and Portland at Ferrybridge. On the landward side of the Chesil, is a long lagoon called The Fleet, which empties into Portland Harbour at Ferrybridge. There was a railway connection which ended in the nineteen sixties, but only to the bottom of the island. Now there is a road across the causeway.

Portland is famous for several things. Mostly for its oolitic limestone which Wren used to rebuild London after the Great Fire. It has a long tradition of quarrying for this stone, and lots of superstitions are attached. The most bizarre was a hatred of rabbits. These were thought to cause rock falls with their burrows, and to see one was an omen of disaster. Quarrymen seeing a bunny on their way to work were said to prefer to go home and lose a day's pay than risk the accident they knew would happen.

Attached to the quarries were the prisons. Portland has three prisons, including a young offenders unit, and Weir a floating barge, moored in Portland Harbour. (Author's note This was written in 2005, HMP Weir is no longer there.)

The other reputation of Portland was for wrecking and smuggling, which continued up until the time a proper lighthouse was established at the Bill of Portland, and a coastguard station nearby.

Our two racers went down the hill towards Ferrybridge as fast as the cars, then flew across the causeway at quite a steady rate above twenty miles an hour. Gaby was pleased with the bike, it was faster than hers. Matt was pleased to see her ride, although he was finding it harder to stay with her than he would have ten years ago.

“Just follow the road up the hill, the hotel's on the top,” he called to her, after which she began to pull away.

After the causeway, the road begins to climb up from Chiswell, through Fortuneswell, past the turn off for Castle town. The latter was where the naval base used to be. As she climbed up the hill, through the narrow streets of Fortuneswell, she could see the sea through the gaps in the houses to her right.

At the bend in the road, she could see the monumental workings of the Napoleonic defences, which riddle the hillside above Castle town. There are several large tunnel systems hidden under the greenery, which once upon a time, would have been full of cannons and ordnance. In the last World War, they would have played host to more modern hardware, but equally lethal ‘welcoming committees'.

The original HMS Hood was sunk in the entrance to Portland Harbour to keep out U-boats. Off the Bill of Portland is a tidal race, where Francis Drake and the other English ships awaited the Spanish Armada. Portland has a long history of seafaring, although Gaby was unaware of it, concentrating upon the second stage of the hill, which winds sharply and steeply up towards the top.

As an experienced hill climber, she puffed and panted a bit, but kept going at a reasonable lick. At the top, she saw the hotel and waited for Matt, who arrived looking red-faced and weary and blowing hard.

“There's an amazing view from up here,” she said, Matt nodded in agreement unable to speak. He had two drinks carriers on his bike, he gave one to Gaby and took the other himself. They rested and drank for a few minutes, then set off back towards Weymouth.

The road on Portland is a one-way system, so they needed to hurry to catch the others before they started around it. They just made it, stopping them at the southern end of the causeway. They took their time heading back and stopped at the little snack bar and car park used by the windsurfers. Here, Matt treated them all to ice cream. A decision applauded by the teens.

“Need more time on the bike?” he asked Gaby.

“No I'll be fine, but a drink holder would be good. If I spend much more time with it, you'll have to shoot me to get it back.”

“I take it, that you like it?” teased Matt.

“No it's a load of rubbish, but I'll give you a tenner for it, just to take it off your hands.”

They both laughed, attracting the attention of the others in the party.

“How have you got the energy to laugh?” asked Harry, licking his ice cream. “I am absolutely pooped.”

“We've got to get back up the hill yet to get back to the shop,” said Matt looking apologetic. “But we'll head towards Rodwell and cut down by Asda.”

“We know,” said the boys.

“If you continue up towards the harbour, Gaby could bring Maddy's bike to you there, to save you a little bit of energy,” which was what they did, although, after riding the new machine; Gaby was even less impressed with the hire bike she had to ride to catch up the others. They were standing, looking towards Radipole Lake.

She let Maddy stay on her Dolce, it being a better ride than the hire bike, “Come on let's get home and phone the police, see what they think,” she said as they set off.

Drew Goes South Chapter 13 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

It was nearly six o clock when they returned to the cottage, Maddy spoke with Carol, while Gaby called the number the police had given. Of course, there was no one available but she left a message. “From now on, I'm gonna carry that bloody mobile with me at all times,” she said, to Maddy as she stumped out of the room.

“Better make sure it's waterproof then.”

“What are you on about?” she fired back at Maddy.

“Your mobe, better make sure it's waterproof, or it won't work in the shower.”

Drew stopped and thought through this conversation. Then thought through it again. Then just as he was about to say, ‘Maddy was out of her tree', he recalled his own statement about carrying his mobile phone. The penny dropped. “I didn't mean it literally,” he said frowning.

“Don't frown dear, you'll get wrinkles,” advised Carol as she came in to ask about tea. Drew was feeling a little ‘got at' but ignored it once food was mentioned. He could forgive Carol almost anything except, forgetting to call him for dinner. “So, what would you two like to eat?” asked Carol.

“What have you got?” asked Maddy.

“I can cook or we can go out?”

“If we go out, where and in what? If you cook, what is it?” Maddy asked with all the delicacy of a teenage interrogator, trained by the Inquisition.

“Did you not notice a car parked in the drive?” retorted Carol.

In fact, neither teenager had, although they had come past it. They both ran to the door and escaped through it. Comments of, “Neat”, and “I like the colour,” were heard to come from the drive.

The comments were made about a cherry red Honda car, which they were examining in detail. “Is it a hire car?” asked Drew.

“It's a courtesy car. Mine should be ready by Saturday, and they have loaned me this one. So we could go out somewhere and give it a run.”

Maddy looked at Drew and nodded, “Yeah let's go out somewhere,” she said.

“Okay,” said Carol, “But it means showering and changing into something tidier than shorts and tee shirts.”

Drew was about to ask about the alternatives if they stayed home, but then sniffed an armpit and realised a wash and change was essential anyway. It was simply the thought of wearing something ‘tidy', which presumably meant a repaint job. He found the makeup easy but irksome, an experience shared by many women. However, Maddy had chosen for them; so it was off to the shower.

He got there first and enjoyed the warm water splashing over him. He had felt a little tired earlier, possibly through hunger, now he felt refreshed and ready for anything. Well almost anything. Dressing up in a suit however, was not one of them.

“You don't expect me to wear that, do you?” he squeaked at Maddy.

“No, I just put it out to make it easier for the moths to eat,” she replied.

“It's polyester, so they'll get tummy ache.” As the words came out of his mouth he thought, 'Tummy ache, why did I say that? I'd normally say belly or guts ache. What is happening to me? Am I actually turning into a girl? What's going to happen when I get home? If I talk like this in front of Clive and Paul they'll call me a fairy. But if I talk like a boy down here, they might rumble me and things could be worse. Oh Geez, why did that stupid old bat have to throw coffee all over me?'

“Hello, earth to Gaby, come in,” called Maddy.

“What?”

“I was talking to you and you were miles away. Are you okay?” Her tone showed genuine concern.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about the new bike,” he lied because it was easier than telling the truth. It was however, a plausible one.

“One of these days you'll turn into a bike.”

“As long as it's either yours or the one that wins Le Tour, I don't care.”

“Yuck, fancy having some sweaty Frenchman's bum sat on me for three weeks? Ugh!” Maddy made suitable gestures of horror as she said this, finishing with a shudder.

Drew decided not to pursue the subject, because it didn't appeal to him either. “So where are we going that needs me to wear a suit?”

“Mum has booked us into a nice restaurant.”

“Yeah but it's hardly a board meeting is it? So why the suit?”

“While you were in the shower, washing away all your cares and woes, we had a phone call.”

“So.”

“Aren't you interested in who called?”

“Prince Charles? He owns half of Dorset.”

“Close.” quipped Maddy.

“Eh?” Now Drew was really puzzled. The problem was that Maddy was quite a wind-up merchant, so she could just be taking the piss.

“Get yourself tarted up while I shower, and I'll tell you all about it when I've had mine.” Before he could respond, she disappeared into the bathroom closing the door firmly.

Standing, wearing a towel and dripping was hardly the best way to go and see Carol, so with a sense of having been ‘done' yet again, he dried himself off and dressed in the dreaded suit and grey shoes. He combed his hair, waiting for Maddy to finish it, then sat down and began reapplying his makeup. Without being told, he noticed his nail polish was all chipped, so he cleaned off the old and was reapplying a new coat when Maddy returned.

“Good girl,” said Maddy, not quite patting him on the head, “I was going to say about your nails.” She looked at his make up, “That's good too, although I think a bit of blusher is called for.” Without further ado, she applied it. His hair was next, and she quickly finished drying it and then put it up for him. She made him stand up while she regarded his turnout. “Oh yes, quite the little executive.”

“So, who are we going to meet?”

“The way you're dressed it could be anyone from Brad Pitt down.” She giggled and rushed out of the room, “Don't forget some perfume. Brad would like you to smell nice.” This was followed by distant laughter.

“Aunt Carol, where are we going and who are we going to see?” he found Carol downstairs looking at a map.

“Goodness, you do look smart. That outfit couldn't look nicer if it had been made for you.”

“Thank you. Now please answer my question,” this was said with polite firmness.

“Matt phoned to ask us out to dinner, apparently we have to meet someone from a bike company or other. I don't know, I didn't recognise the name so it didn't mean anything. But we are heading off towards Bournemouth, to a rather nice restaurant attached to a pub. So please, as always act with decorum and don't eat too fast.”

“What is this all about?”

“I don't know dear; use the grey bag please. That one doesn't go with the outfit. Hurry up now.” She paused to call up the stairs, “Hurry up, Madeleine, the meal is tonight.”

“Mad, what is going on? Why all the secrecy?” asked Drew, having changed his handbag to the grey one.

“Have you got everything in there? Make up, money, comb, mobile….”

“Oh shit, I forgot my phone,” said Drew rushing off to his room. “Got it. Now what's going on?” he said rushing back.

“I don't know, something about bikes, Matt spoke to Mum, and we were invited out to a posh restaurant.” She paused to sniff him. “Ummm, Gaby Bond, you'll have Brad eating out of your hand.” She gave him a hug, “Stop worrying about it, just enjoy someone else footing the bill.”

“I'd like to know exactly what is happening. If we're talking about bikes, shouldn't my mum or dad be there?”

“My mum won't let anyone cause you any bother, you know that.”

“I know. Oh bugger, I need to poo,” he said rushing off to the toilet. He was genuinely worried. He had no information, and he was nervous. He didn't know why, but he was. The consequence was the unscheduled bowel movement. Once again he mused over choice of language. Poo was a word he might use in front of his mother, but otherwise ... well. So not only was he worried about this meal, but also his increasingly feminine vocabulary.

The drive eastwards was made in relative silence. Drew had volunteered to sit in the back of the car, and Maddy and Carol, picking up on his tension spoke very little. “Everything is going to be fine, you just wait and see,” was what Carol had said as they departed, but he wasn't sure he believed her.

As they parked in the car park of the pub, he felt almost distant or detached. He also felt a bit sick. He knew he wouldn't eat too fast because he didn't feel like eating at all. The aroma of food coming at them on the light breeze, just made him feel sicker. Sensing his apprehension, Carol held one hand and Maddy, the other.

They walked into the restaurant. “I need to go to the toilet,” he said.

Maddy sussed where they were and helped him along. He wasn't sick, but the diarrhoea had returned. “You okay, Gabs?” enquired his concerned cousin.

“I'd rather be home than here, but I expect I'll survive.”

“If you don't we'll scatter the ashes along the Cuckney Twenty route,” she laughed and gave him a hug. “Come on, girl, let's go meet Brad Pitt.”

“Gaby and Maddy, come and meet a couple of people from the world of cycling. This is Frank Bower the European distributor for Specialized, and this young lady is ….” Gaby shook hands with the large man, then turned to shake hands with his companion.

“Mum? Mum is that you?” Before anyone could say or do anything Drew had thrown his arms around his mother who was hugging him in return. There were tears in both their eyes as they embraced and held each other.

“Why didn't you say you were coming?” said a very quiet voice interspersed with sobs.

“I didn't know until lunchtime I could. I had to do some promotional stuff in Brittany, Matt got to hear of it and well … here I am.”

“This is wonderful, Mum, can you stay?”

“Tonight. I have to fly back tomorrow afternoon.”

“This is brilliant, Mum.”

The others let the reunion continue for a few minutes before Jenny, sensing their discomfort, said, “Right, young lady, we'll catch up later. Let's eat.”

Eventually they ordered, then had to slip off to the loos to repair makeup. “You look wonderful Gaby. That suit, it fits you to perfection,” complimented Jenny.

“It's her fault,” replied Gaby, pointing at Maddy, “She chose it for me.”

“Moi?” said Maddy imitating Miss Piggy from the Muppets, which brought the house down.

The meal was good. Gaby had cream of celery soup, game pie and apple pie with cream. The others feasted similarly. Eventually, the fun stopped and the business began. Drew couldn't have cared less, his nerves had vanished and joy had replaced them.

“We decided to invite you all here because we want to use you, young lady, in our advertising in England and Europe.” This was said by Frank Bower, indicating Gaby, as he spoke. “We decided you would be suitable for Europe as well, if we were able to mention your mother's name. Trading on the mother-daughter relationship. You know, Gaby, daughter of Jenny Bond. That sort of thing. We're trying to increase the number of younger women cycling, and so we need to give them role models.”

At this Maddy and Drew looked at each other. The unspoken message they exchanged was one of amused alarm.

“Wouldn't my brother be a better model?” asked Gaby. “I mean, he's a champion. I haven't done anything.”

“If we were looking to sell bikes to men and boys, he'd be ideal. We're doing okay there, it's girls' and ladies' bikes we want to target.”

“But Mum doesn't ride one of your bikes.”

“I know, it's sad but she already has a sponsor. So, we are using you, because we can say, “Gaby, daughter of world champion, Jenny Bond.”

“Is it legal to sponsor a minor?” asked Gaby, wondering if she should have qualified it with, ‘cross dressing'. However, this didn't seem the appropriate time or place.

“There is no problem with that whatsoever. Diaper companies sponsor babies with their nursery requisites. So, I think you'll be okay.” Once more Maddy and Drew exchanged glances.

“What will this entail for my daughter; remembering she is still at school?” asked Jenny.

“A few photos we can use in our promotional material, and riding one of our bikes in any races she enters. We will of course supply the bikes as part of the arrangement.”

“What one of the new carbon frames?” asked Drew, feeling less antipathetic to the deal.

“When it became available, of course.”

“We have one here already, remember I'm riding it on Sunday.”

“I'm well aware of that Miss Bond, however, that is a pre-production model and the eventual finished product could be quite different. Besides, we're using it as a demonstration model.”

“Oh,” said the wunderkind.

“I take it that first impressions have been favourable?” said Bower with a sparkle in his voice.

“Nah, it's rubbish but I'll give you a tenner for it,” quipped back Gaby.

Bower looked askance at Matt, who said,” She means, she'll give you ten pounds for it. A tenner, ten pounds.” Bower's frown lifted, turning into a smile.

“Have you any idea what it costs to develop a new model?” Nobody knew, which was irrelevant, because he was going to tell them anyway. “About a million dollars, give or take the odd hundred thousand. That bike you are riding Miss Bond is worth about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in development costs.”

Gaby sat with mouth wide open. Eventually gaining enough composure to say, ”You're joking!”
“
No, I'm deadly serious. Now, do you understand why you can't keep it?”

“I think so. But the production bikes will be about fifteen hundred pounds.”

“Somewhere about that price I believe: and young lady if you agree to it, you will be the person who launches them here in England and also in Europe.”

“What? Me?”

“The same.”

Gaby now looked at Jenny who was smiling widely back, as if to say, ‘now you know what it feels like'.

“I'll need to have much more detail of time involved and dates before we can sanction this," said Jenny..

“Mrs Bond, of course, we'll discuss those as soon as we know what they are ourselves; plus remuneration etcetera. This meeting was about feasibility and principle. Having met your lovely daughter; I'm sure she will be eminently suitable for our needs.”

“It's hers I'm most concerned about, as you will appreciate.”

“Of course you are, so are we. We are a company with a proud reputation for doing things right. From the cycles we make to the shops who sell them, our reputation is important, which I'm sure you appreciate.”

Soon after the meeting ended with Matt taking his guest off to his hotel and Jenny joining her family for the trip back to the cottage. As they walked back to the car she said, “I can't believe how grown up you look in that suit. Quite the young businesswoman.”

“Underneath it I'm still the same, Mum.”

“I know love, I know.” They were arm in arm, and she squeezed him gently. “I don't know Chuck, I shall have to look to my laurels if they start sponsoring my daughter.”

“Don't be silly, Mum, how can they sponsor me? I don't exist; which I'm sure they'll soon discover. It could affect your reputation too. I think after this weekend, Gaby has to disappear once and for all.”

“You can't, what about the cheerleaders?” said Maddy, aghast.

“Just watch me,” said Drew, despite the very feminine appearance, it was a boy who spoke.

“We'll see,” said his mother quietly, “Let's get home.”

Drew clung to his mother all the way home; sitting together in the back of the car, he cuddled in and began to snooze; feeling warm and safe. She unconsciously stroked the back of his neck, soothing the tension he'd felt. He was aware of voices, but not what was said. He was with his mother, and safe.

“Come on, baby girl, we're home,” cooed his mother, “Come on, we're there.” Everyone else went ‘aahh' at his sleeping form being disturbed.

They went into the house, and Drew and Maddy were asked to make a pot of tea, while Carol showed Jenny around. It was well brewed when they returned to drink it.

“Sorry, my fault,” said Jenny, “We were making up my bed.”

“You're not serious about this sponsorship thing, are you, Mum?” asked Drew.

“Gaby, I am far too tired to even think about such things, let alone discuss them. I'm going to drink this tea then I'm off to my bed, and you, young woman should do the same.”

“I'm not a girl, why does everybody keep treating me like one?” whined Drew.

“From where I'm sitting, you look and sound like a girl, and you are certainly whining like one,” replied his mother.

“I'm going to bed,” Drew almost spat this out as he walked angrily from the room and stamped up the stairs.

Maddy who was going to intercept was stopped by Jenny, “Let her go. It's been a long day.”

“He does have a point,” said Maddy, almost tearfully.

“We agreed that if he was dressed as a girl, he would be addressed and treated as such. He agreed he would behave congruently with his appearance. He or should I say, she, knows the rules. We agreed it because it was safer; everyone knows what to do or say.”

“Yes but,” began Maddy.

“Maddy, there are no exceptions. It is the rule. Otherwise, someone could give the game away and Gaby's feelings would be hurt even more. I didn't ask him to spend two weeks living as a girl, that was his choice.”

“Not entirely,” Maddy replied.

“Did you force him to wear skirts and makeup?”

“No,” Maddy said this looking at the floor.

“So, it was his choice?”

“I suppose it must have been.”

“I know Drew is small and rather pretty for a boy. I'm well aware that he is sometimes mistaken for a girl even when he's in boy mode. But no boy would allow himself to end up in dresses as often as he does, not without sanctioning it. I don't know what he gets out of it, but it must be something. I wonder if he isn't sure who or what he is, so his father and I allow him to experiment. We are both concerned for obvious reasons, but any decision made has to be led by Drew or Gaby.”

“Do you think Drew is transsexual?”

“I don't think anything, Maddy, like you, I'm waiting for him or her to tell me.”

“Does it worry you?”

“Of course it does, love, but only with regard to what's best for him and to try and minimise any hurt. At the end of the day, he or she is my child. I love them irrespective of anything else.”

“I'm sure,” said Maddy.

“Maddy,” said Jenny calling her back.

“Let's keep this to ourselves for now.”

“Sure.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Aunt Jenny, promise.”

The noises from upstairs had stopped for several minutes before Maddy went up. Drew's room was in darkness with the door shut. She paused outside it, but hearing nothing she went to her own room and then to bed.

Jenny looked in half an hour later, he was asleep curled around a soft toy, his silky nightdress shimmering in the light which came through the crack in the door. She tucked him in, kissed him gently on the forehead and wished him a good night. He moved slightly as she spoke. She watched him for a moment; her sense of guilt not helped by knowing how much he missed her. He was a pretty kid, a decent kid. She hoped he would resolve his gender question soon, but she wouldn't hurry him. She kissed him again and left.

In his dream Drew was lying on a gurney. “Where are you taking me?” he asked the masked person pushing it. There was no answer, he knew where it was going. He tried to get off, but he couldn't. He couldn't get his feet off the pedals. He undid his cycling shoes, but his feet were stuck in them and his shoes to the pedals. No matter how much he struggled they would not come off.

Outside the double doors marked ‘theatre' stood his mother and Mr Bower, they were shaking hands. “It's alright, Gaby, you can keep the bike once you've become a proper girl.”

“We know all about you,” said Mr Bower, “as your little problem is being sorted it won't make any difference to the arrangement, although I realise you won't be cycling for us for a week or two. But hey, that's okay.”

He struggled some more but couldn't get free. A nurse was coming toward him with a huge syringe. He was terrified, and as she was about to jab it in him, he screamed.

He awoke bathed in sweat with his feet tangled in the bedclothes. The noise of a scream had awoken him. His mother was at his bedside. No that was a dream, his mother was in Germany.

She touched him and he jumped and screamed again. She held him, “It's alright sweetheart, Mummy's here. You had a bad dream, but it's all right now.” As she held him he began to sob against her breast. He was obviously troubled. Was it her absence that caused it? She felt tears forming in her own eyes. Did she need to give up her career and come back for the kids? Life is such a bitch.

Drew Goes South Chapter 14 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)
Neither Jenny nor Drew slept well that night. He was still upset about the previous evening, and she had a guilty conscience.

“That's a lovely nightdress,” said Jenny to her son.

“It's Maddy's. She lent it me.” He looked at her, “I'm sorry I threw a wobbly last night.”

“That's alright kiddo, I expect you were tired and seeing me was a bit of a shock.”

“It was a lovely surprise.” He hugged her. “I wish you didn't have to go back today.”

“I know love. I'd like to spend more time with you, but it's the season and I was lucky to get this short space. I should be training.”

“We can go out on the bikes if you like, I'm sure Matt could lend us one. You could use mine and I'll use the Giant.” Drew was desperate, it was months since they had cycled together, “Please Mum.”

It was the last thing she wanted to do. She had a slight quad injury which was why she was there at all. She should be resting it or in physio. Should she tell him?

“I've got a bit of a sore leg, so if I did come out it would only be for a short and gentle ride.” His face lit up as she said this.

“Awesome!” Then he thought about what she had said. His face became serious. “What have you done to your leg?”

“I pulled some quads on a machine in the gym. So, I'm on light training for a week or two.”

“Oh Mum, we can't risk it. Shall we go for a walk instead? Can you do that?”

“I'd love to, girl. Where are you going to take me? I don't know this part at all.”

“Aw Mum, you keep on with this girly stuff. I wish it had never started.”

“Gaby; listen to me. You are dressed like a girl. Remember we agreed certain rules; number one being – If dressed as a girl, then you are treated as one. I'm only obeying the rules.”

“But everyone knows here.”

“I know love, it seems over the top. But it's there to protect you. If we relax them now; we get sloppy and eventually someone makes a mistake in front of an outsider. Then we are really in the cart. It would reflect on all of us, but you most of all.”

“I know, Mum. I don't want to do anything that affects your career.”

“My career would survive. I can always say I was simply giving you space to decide if you were happier as a girl or a boy. What would you say to Clive or Paul, or your boyfriend down here? What's his name ... Harry?” She hugged him as she spoke.

“I don't know, Mum.” He held on tightly to her. “I don't know. I'd be dead.”

“I think that might be an overreaction love, and I'm sure the other kids would eventually cope with the revelation. Either way, your cycling achievements would help your credibility.”

“What do you mean?” He snuggled into her. He wasn't really listening to the words; just her voice.

“I mean sweetheart, that if it became known generally that you were Gaby or decided to become Gaby; then it would be a five-minute wonder. Afterwards, things would settle down. You'd not be the first or the last to do it.”

“No I s'pose not,” he replied, without listening properly to what his mother had said. He hugged her again and she reciprocated. For him it was bliss.

She held him for a few minutes. Carol walked in, smiled and walked back to the kitchen. Maddy did the same; assisted by Carol hooking her arm and dragging her into the kitchen.

“Right kiddo; how about some breakfast?” she said to him; prising him off her like a limpet off a rock.

He wanted to resist; to make this state last as long as possible; forever would do. Nevertheless, he complied with her unspoken message, “The hug is over for now.” Surrendering to her pressure, he stood up and they walked together into the kitchen.

The air abounded with the smell of toast. Maddy was shoving bread into the toaster and buttering it when it came out. Carol was making scrambled eggs.

“Cor this smells wonderful!” exclaimed Jenny. “I'm back in England at last.”

Maddy looked askance at Jenny. Her eyes asking for an explanation of the previous statement. “On the continent, breakfast never smells like this. There are days when I could kill for some bacon and eggs.”

“Sorry Jen; we used up the bacon yesterday,” apologised her cousin. “Can you take some back with you? We could do a cool bag.”

“I could, couldn't I?” Jenny mused on this point for a moment. Then Maddy announced. “Breakfast is served.” Whereupon she shoved plates of scrambled eggs on toast into each of their hands.

After breakfast, the queue for the shower threatened to overwhelm the immersion heater, but each of them tried to be brief so there was just enough hot water.

“What do you want me to wear today?” Drew asked his Mum, “Not the suit again?”

“Darling, you wear whatever you like, providing it doesn't let the side down. Remember we girls have to maintain certain standards.” She smiled as she said it and the irritation he was feeling vaporised.

“Do you want to see my wardrobe?” he asked of her.

“That would be nice,” she said following him into his room. With towels wrapped around his chest and turban style on his head; he really did look so naturally female. His movements were feminine as was his speech. It worried her that this could be her real child; not the young tearaway boy who was a million miles away.

He showed her his collection, she examined everything with enthusiasm. “Oh is this what you wore to the dance? No wonder Harry kissed you.” He blushed as he held out the dress, “Oh that skirt is simply gorgeous Gabs. Where did you find it? I'll have to send you out to get my clothes from now on.”

He was blushing like a beacon; feeling a mixture of emotions. He was proud his mum liked his clothes; embarrassed because they were so girly, and also because Maddy did most of the buying. A fact; of which Jenny was very aware. The coordination of the items showed the hand of Maddy.

“Maddy helped with most of it,” confessed Drew.

“I thought she might. Listen to her advice girl, she has a wonderful eye for coordinating separates.” Jenny thought to herself,'”I don't know whether I should reinforce the feminine element each time I speak to him, or am I overdoing it?'

“What do you want me to wear Mum?” he said, running his hand along the rack of dresses and skirts.

“Where are we going? I have a plane to catch from Bournemouth at four.”

“I don't know Dorchester or Weymouth I suppose,” he shrugged his shoulders and the towel around his chest began to slip. He squeaked like a girl and grabbed it with both hands; turning away from his mother as he readjusted it. Just like a girl.

“Something comfortable then, which looks tidy. We'll be eating out somewhere,” he pulled out the admired blue flowered skirt, and his mother nodded. “The pink top to match the flowers?”

“That's what I was going to suggest,” he said smiling at her.

“You know what they say?” she chuckled at him, “Like mother, like daughter.”

“Oh, I thought you were going to say, “Great minds think alike.”

“I could have done, couldn't I? Never mind one aphorism is as good as another,” his eyes glazed over at this. Inside the computer was buzzing, ‘Don't do big words!'

His mother moved to the door, “Right kiddo, I shall go and dig in my weekend case and see if I can find something to keep up with my daughter's extensive wardrobe. If not, I'll be back in a minute to borrow something.” She was only joking, but the smile on his face was priceless.

Jenny went off and showered and dressed, she returned about half an hour later Drew was sitting in his bedroom flicking through Cycling Weekly. “Hullo flower; do you need some help with your make-up?”

Drew turned around, “Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, it looks great. Maddy did it for you, did she?”

“No, I do it myself,” he smiled back. “It's hardly rocket science, is it?”

“No sweetheart, it isn't. You look lovely.” He jumped up and they had a quick hug. “Ooh, you smell nice too,” she said inhaling his scent. “ Bodyshop stuff?” she asked.

“Yeah, White Musk or something,” he said quietly.

“Did you choose it?” she asked.

“Yeah. I nearly bought some for Mad last year. I liked it then, and I remembered it. So, when she told me to get some for me, I did.”

“When you say you liked it, you actually tried it before?”

“Yeah, it was awful. By the time I'd finished I smelt like a bunch of flowers. The girl serving me was squirting them up my arm and all over the place. I came home and had a shower and put my clothes in the wash.”

“Were you in Drew or Gaby mode?”

“Drew. I'm only doing this because I have to,” he said with some indignation.

“Of course, dear; I just wondered.”

They were deciding where they were going to go when the doorbell rang. It was the police. Momentarily, Carol's heart fluttered until she recognised the two officers. “Gaby phoned us and left a message last night. Could we have a quick word with her?”

“Can it be quick, we were about to go out. Her mum is visiting and she has to get a plane this afternoon, so time is limited,” Carol said to the pair of bobbies at the door.

“What? Jenny Bond, the world champion? Is here?” gasped Ben Martin.

“Yes, she's Gaby's mum.”

“Yeah, I know, but I thought she was abroad. Can I get her autograph?”

“I expect so,” answered Carol hiding her irritation.

“Wow, awesome,” he exclaimed with a silly grin on his face.

“Gaby, it's the police,” called Carol from the front door.

Jenny's face went from relaxed to anxious in a flash, “What is this about?” she asked the two girls.

“It's nothing to worry about Mum. I'm just helping the police with their enquiries,” smirked back Drew, as his mother had kittens.

Carol led the officers into the lounge where Maddy and Gaby were sat with Jenny. “Mrs Bond how lovely to meet you,” said Ben Martin extending his hand. Jenny shook it.

“I'm PC Ben Martin and this is my colleague, Andrea Smith. Gaby here has been helping us with some enquiries we've been making. Did she tell you she and her boyfriend saved a boy's life last week?”

“Slow down, she hasn't told me anything,” they all sat down, and Jenny was told the story from start to finish.

Then it was Gaby's turn to tell her latest observation about the hide at Radipole and the money. “There was how much?” asked Andrea, writing it down carefully.

“Two hundred and fifty pounds. I counted it, then put it back.”

“Pity we didn't hear of this yesterday. Looks like a drugs drop. We'll get someone to check it out.”

“Not in uniform, I hope,” said Gaby. “‘Cos that would blow it completely.”

“We might be called The Plod, but we do have a few functioning brain cells," quipped Ben, “If the money is still there, then we'll do some surveillance on it.”

“Like a stakeout?” asked Maddy.

“Possibly, sometimes we put a tiny camera inside and record the criminals doing the drop.”

“It's exciting isn't it?” said Maddy almost quaking with emotion, “All because Gaby spotted Cheescake.”

“You have a beautiful and very switched-on daughter, Mrs Bond,” said Ben, at which, Drew blushed bright crimson and Jenny smiled.

“I know Ben, she doesn't miss a trick. We had to hide her Christmas and birthday presents at a friend's house when she was younger; otherwise, she'd find them.” The crimson went a shade brighter.

“Do you need me to show you where the money is or was?” asked Gaby.

“I think we'll be able to locate it if it's still there. Can I use your phone, I'll get that set up immediately?” He went out into the hall and phoned his station.

“Could I ask a favour Mrs Bond?” said Andrea.

“I should think so, though I'm not sure I can be of much help in this matter.”

“Oh it's nothing to do with work. I wondered if I could get your autograph.”

“Of course, Gaby, there's some photos up in my bedroom can you bring a couple down.” Drew did as he was told, returning a moment later. Ben was still on the phone.

Jenny dedicated and signed the photos as requested. “If Ben asks, tell him you can't or won't. I'll try and put him off. He'll curse me all the way back to the station,” laughed Andrea.

Ben finally came off the phone. Before he could say anything, Andrea was shooing him out to the car. “We'll let you know if we need to speak to you again,” she called to the two teens.

“I don't know, young lady, I turn my back for two seconds and you are doing CPR and solving crimes; not to mention winning cycles for racing. I'm surprised you had time to fit me in as well,” said Jenny with a straight face.

Maddy nearly wet herself, Gaby stood up and in a very poor Scottish accent said, “The namesh Bond, Jamesh Bond.”

At this everyone fell about laughing. Carol, with tears running down her cheek said, “If that was supposed to be Sean Connery, then I'm a Dutchman.”

“Sounded more like Minnie Mouse with a hangover,” squeaked Maddy, convulsing with laughter.

“Oh thanks,” pouted Gaby.

“Come on, Moneypenny, let's get going,” said Jenny, “Or it's going to be straight to the airport.”

The mood changed immediately, and the four began to organise themselves to go out. The doorbell rang again.

“Oh no, who is it this time?” sighed Carol. She opened the door to William and Harry. “Look boys, Gaby's mum is visiting and we were just about to go out.”

“What Jenny Bond, the world champion? Wow! Kewel!” Said Harry punching the air. “Can I just meet her? I've never met a world champion anything before.”

“Jenny, you have some admirers here” called Carol from the hall.

“Oh no it's Pinky and Perky," hissed Maddy.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” whispered Jenny to Drew, causing him to blush again.

“Harry,” was whispered back.

“I only want to have a look at him,” said Jenny.

She shook hands with the two boys and gave them autographed photos. They spoke for a few minutes before Carol called time and they left, seemingly pleased with themselves.

“Quite a nice-looking boy. You could have done a lot worse,” said Jenny almost purring.

“Yes Mum,” replied Drew quietly, “It's not real you know.”

“What's not real, Gaby?” Jenny looked puzzled.

“I'm only pretending to be his girlfriend, I don't fancy him or anything.”

“How can you pretend to be a girlfriend? you've been out with him?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“You kissed him?”

“Yeah, but it was only a peck on the cheek,” Drew was blushing furiously.

“And let him kiss you?”

“But not on the lips, he tried that and I told him where to go,” said the blushing teenager.

“Do you like him?”

“He's okay, I s'pose.”

“For a boy you mean?” added Jenny.

“Yeah, he's okay for a boy,” agreed her offspring shrugging his shoulders.

“Gaby, you sound just like a teenage girl. I had almost the same conversation with your sister about three years ago.”

“So? You're going to make fun of me now; like I'm some sort of fairy?” The embarrassment began to turn to indignation even anger. Tears began to well up in Drew's eyes. The person he loved and trusted most in the world; seemed to be mocking him, it hurt.

“Oh, darling; you couldn't be further from the truth. I love you full stop, so does your dad. We only want you to be happy. You are at that time in your life when you experiment with different sorts of relationships. There are no wrongs or rights. People just are who or what they are. As long as you respect the other's right to be themselves, then you also have the right to be yourself. To me, that doesn't matter if it's Drew or Gaby. I will try to respect your choice. So please don't be cross with me. I'm only trying to be interested in your life and that includes your friends.”

“I'm sorry, Mum,” he said hugging her.

“So am I kiddo, if I offended you.”

Finally, they managed to get away and Carol drove them into Dorchester where they flitted around the shops for an hour, buying some bacon and sausages. “You can't get a decent sausage in Germany.” Then a cooler bag and eventually some lunch.

When they were sat in the Kings Arms Hotel, waiting for their orders to be brought. They became aware of someone looking at them and then talking furtively with someone else at their table. It happened two or three times.

“Someone has recognised Mum, you wait, they'll be along for an autograph in a minute,” said Drew.

Sure enough an elderly woman approached the table with a young man in tow. “Excuse me interrupting your meal,” she said.

“That's okay, we haven't started yet,” said Jenny, almost feeling for her pen.

“My grandson, Michael,” she pulled him forward, “Thinks you, young lady are the one who was pictured in the Echo. You're racing some special bike on Sunday. I hope we got the right person?”

Jenny smiled as Drew's mouth fell open, “She's the right one,” said Maddy, “Her name is Gaby Bond.”

“That's the one,” said Michael. “Can I have your autograph?”

“I s'pose so,” said Gaby, blushing furiously. “Would you like my mum's as well?”

“Who's she?” asked the old woman.

“Only the womans' world champion road racer,” said Maddy.

“You're jokin'? You are ain'tcha?” said the boy. “Jenny Bond in Dorch; you gotta be jokin'; right?”

“I'm afraid not. I'm here in Dorchester,” said Jenny.

“Like in the flesh like?” said the tongue-tied teenager.

“I never go anywhere without my body,” said Jenny smiling. She accepted the celebrity which went with her exploits quite calmly; though this was one of the funnier occasions.

The upshot was Jenny and Gaby posed while he took a digital photo of them together and then had one taken with him between them, which Maddy took. He also got a signed menu card from the hotel.

After the ‘odd couple' left, Jenny remarked laughing; “I expected my kids to outdo me
one day, especially this ‘un,” she nodded at Gaby. “I simply didn't expect to be upstaged quite so soon. Can I have your autograph please, Miss?” The dining room filled with their laughter.

All too soon they were at Bournemouth airport, and Jenny was booking in. She said goodbyes to Carol and Maddy, then it was Drew's turn. “Thank you for a lovely time, young lady. Do your best on Sunday, and let me know how you get on?” They hugged and Gaby once again clung on to her mum.

The flight was called, “I have to go love.”

“I know,” sniffed Gaby.

“See you soon. Love you lots, girl.”

“Love you too Mum.” Then Jenny strode off to the departure lounge, she waved once and was gone.

“Come on girl, let's go wave her off from outside,” said Maddy, and all three of them went to look for the best vantage point to see the aircraft leave.

Drew Goes South Chapter 15 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)
Drew was very quiet as they drove back from the airport. He felt a sinking in his heart inversely proportional to the rise in the aircraft as it took off. He waved frantically and was sure he saw his mother wave back. Reality meant he didn't even know if she had a window seat. It could have been anyone waving. But at least he had waved; sending his love with each movement of his hand. Then he had wept. He tried not to; screwing up his hands to distract himself. His eyes, and tear glands in particular; had other plans. His eyes flooded with salty water until it rolled in big drops over his eyelids and down his cheeks. He lost control a short time later, and sobbed on Carol's shoulder as she hugged him, whispering words of comfort as she did.

Finally, he calmed down and they got back to the car and set off for the cottage. He went up to his room. He wanted to be alone. He felt very vulnerable and almost bereaved. He also felt very stupid. He was thirteen for God's sake! Thirteen-year-old boys don't cry. He did. Was this another undermining of his masculinity? It felt very threatened. He felt threatened. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up back at home with his mother and father and sister all there; permanently.

He knew it was a nonsense. Jules wanted to go to uni and he might too. His dad went off on business trips occasionally and of course there were the cycle races. Bloody cycle races!

Suddenly he felt angry about them. Cycling had taken his mother away from him; away from her family. She shouldn't have gone! He hated her for leaving. How could she leave him?

He sat on his bed, the tears flowing freely. He didn't hate her; he loved her so much. He missed her so much. He understood why she had to go. He simply didn't like it. It was a loss; even though he knew she would come back.

He lay back on the bed and something rustled underneath him. It made him jump for a moment. Then after the initial surprise he rose and pulled the bedclothes back. Underneath was a parcel in gift wrapping. He extracted it from the bedclothes.

Wiping his eyes; he read the small card attached to the paper by a fancy bow. The paper was silver with little teddy bears all over it. The card matched it. It said: “ To my brave ‘younger daughter'. I thought this might come in useful. Enjoy the rest of your holiday. All my love, Mum. XXXX”

The package was soft, it was obviously clothing of some sort. The card indicated it was going to be a girly gift. It rankled him a little, but a prezzie is a prezzie; so he opened it. Inside was a beautiful, pale blue nightdress. It had spaghetti straps and was of a silky material. It was full length. On closer inspection it was made of silk. Even Maddy didn't have a silk nightie. It was beautiful. Yet part of him was angry. Why couldn't she have brought him a cycling shirt or shorts? If not something boy, then unisex would have done. But this, this, beautiful thing was probably expensive and for a part of him which was at best transient, and which he was determined he'd never be again. It was a waste of money!

He felt hurt and he felt confused. It was his mother's fault he got into skirts in the first place, with her ‘ Xena' charity ride. Now she seemed to want to keep him there. Why did everyone seem to want him to be a girl? He was a boy; wasn't he? He was beginning to wonder. He felt exhausted, curled up on the bed clutching the new nightie, and fell asleep. He was still asleep when Maddy came to see how he was an hour later.

“Come on sleepy head.” She stroked his head as she said it. “Wotcha got there?” She said gently pulling the nightdress.

“Wha ...?” He roused himself and stretched. “Oh, it's you.”

Maddy picked up the wrapping paper, and read the card. “So who's been getting prezzies then?” She asked, although it was largely a rhetorical question. He let go of the nightie so she could examine it more closely. Holding it up she said, “Oh, Gabs, this is absolutely beautiful. You must wear it tonight. I wish someone loved me enough to give me a silk nightie.”

“Send your mother to Germany for ten months of the year; I'm sure she'd give you one as well.”

“There's no need to be bitchy or sarky. I'm only admiring your present. I think you are very lucky. Your mum must love you very much.”

“Not enough to stay here.” He said this looking at his feet, and tears began to form in his eyes.

“Gabs, that isn't fair and you know it.”

“It's alright for you … your mother is here … not a thousand miles away.” This statement was punctuated by pauses as tears rolled down Drew's face, dripping onto the bed.

Maddy looked at him. “Hey Tiger; I know you miss her and she does you. You did agree to her going; remember?”

“I didn't realise I'd miss her so much.” He sobbed and Maddy sat alongside him; her arm around him rubbing his back gently.

“It's not like she's gone forever; she is coming back and you do see her now and again; and talk on the phone.”

“I kno, (sniff) I know, all that.” Drew paused wiping his nose on his hand. “But sometimes that makes it worse; reminding me what I don't have and everyone else does.”

“You've got a brill dad,” said Maddy brightly. “I think Uncle Dave is ace.”

“I know all that and I'm glad of it. But it doesn't stop me missing my mum.” He sniffed some more, and more salty water dripped onto the bed.

Maddy looked him in the face. She wanted to say, “Your make up is a total wreck.” Knowing that would be to slap him in the face she said instead; “Come on dry your eyes; let's show your prezzie to Mum.”

Eventually he did control his tears and they went down to Carol who was preparing tea. “Oh that's really nice, Gaby; are you going to wear it tonight? Then it would be like having your mum with you each night; knowing that she's thinking of you.”

“I hadn't thought of it like that Auntie Carol.” He paused for a moment, holding tightly on to the nightdress. “Yes, yes, I will wear it tonight.” He smiled in a wistful way as he said this. Carol understood and smiled back.

“Look it's going to be at least half an hour before tea is ready, why don't you go for a quick ride?”

“Yeah, why not? Coming Mad?” His whole countenance brightened up, and after he went up to change Carol heaved a sigh.

“Wanna call for the boys?” asked Maddy.

“Not specially; why, do you?”

“Not specially.” Maddy replied. 'Perhaps it is better not to for the moment. He needs to get over his mum again. It's probably better with just the two of us; he might even have been better on his own,' she thought to herself.

They set off at quite a fast pace; Maddy struggling to keep up at times, she allowed it to happen without complaint. It was his way of integrating his emotions and his thoughts. 'Besides,' she thought; <>'It's one way of working up an appetite, while working off the previous meal.'

She let him go when he shot off up a steep hill, he'd eventually get the message that she didn't need to kill herself, even if he did. When she eventually got to the top, he was sat on the grass looking at something intently in a nearby bush.

“What you doing?” she whispered to him.

“Look there,” he pointed.

“What am I looking at?”

“The shiny green thing there. It's making the chirping noise.”

All Maddy could see was vegetation and yet more vegetation, she persevered and finally she saw the ‘shiny green thing'. A large, grasshopper like bug, a great green bush-cricket, which turn up in the southern counties in mid to late summer.

They rode home and after a good evening meal, Maddy suggested they call Harry to see if he knew the name of the bug. Reluctantly, Gaby agreed. “You know what he'll say?” she said to Maddy.

“If I knew what it was called, we wouldn't need to phone him,” she replied.

“He'll say something like, Albert or Bill,” said Gaby.

“Don't tell me; ‘cos he's a boy,” quipped Maddy.

“Yeah, how did you guess?” said Gaby rather deflatedly.

“‘Cos I'm a girl like you.”

“But I'm not am I?” he moved his foot on the carpet and stared at it intently.

“It was meant as a compliment. It makes you a superior life form,” she said smirking at him.

“Oh well that's alright then,” he quipped bac,; refusing to be drawn any further down that road.

They phoned Harry, who invited himself round complete with a book on bugs. “It sounds like a great green bush cricket,” he said, looking for the appropriate page number in the index. “There,” he said, opening the book to the required page.

“That's the one,” said Gaby while Maddy nodded her agreement. “I didn't see a big sting thing on its back, though,” Maddy shook her head in agreement.

“It's not a sting; it's a modified ovipositor,” said Harry. He only knew this because his local scout master had pointed it out to him; but knowledge is power.

“What's a modified ovi what'sit?” said Gaby.

“A thing for laying eggs,” beamed Harry.

"How come chickens don't have one then?” quipped Gaby.

“Because they don't lay eggs into the ground.”

“Ugh!” said Maddy, “If they did, we'd have to dig them up,” at this they all grimaced and laughed.

“Would you like to go and see a film?” asked Harry.

“When?” retorted Gaby, thinking, 'Oh, no, not the dreaded back row fumble?'

“Tomorrow.”

“Which one?” asked Maddy, making sure she wouldn't be left out.

“ Shrek. I hear it's very funny.”

“Eddie Murphy isn't it?” said Maddy.

“Yeah, I think it is, wanna go then?”

“I need to get some race practice in,” said Gaby trying to change the subject.

“We could go tomorrow evening. Will's dad will take us, I'm sure.”

“Take you where, young man?” Carol had wandered out to the dining room where the teens were.

“Into Weymouth, to the multiplex,” answered Harry.

“Well if he takes you, I'll collect you. How's that?”

“Great,” smiled Harry not noticing Gaby behind him silently saying, “Shit!” and shaking her head, much to Maddy's amusement.

After he'd left, Drew said accusingly to his aunt, “Why did you have to agree to us going to the pictures with those boys?”

“I assumed you wanted to go. You didn't say you didn't; did you?”

“I was building up to it,” said Drew, desperately racking his brain for a suitable excuse.

“You need to be faster Gaby, or some boy will have his wicked way while you're still thinking about it.”

“Geez Auntie Carol, that's really cheered me up, I don't think.”

“Hey Gabs, Fawlty Towers is on,” called Maddy from the lounge, referring to a popular comedy series starring John Cleese as Basil Fawlty, a hotel owner. Then it was bed time, and the new nightdress.

Jenny had chosen perfectly. The fit was good. Gaby stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom. In this thing Drew really had disappeared; replaced by a beautiful young woman. He tried not to think about it too much, concentrating on the positive side. It meant his mum was thinking about him and he had a reminder of her. So metaphorically, his mum was with him. That felt good.

“Are you decent?” called Maddy from the other side of the door. When he hesitated, she added. “Come on; let's see it then.”

He hesitated a moment or two longer; not deliberately. It was just the feel of the garment. It was like … silk. He almost laughed out loud at himself. But it did feel nice. He might even get used to it, and well, if it meant he had his mum with him and felt this good, he might just continue to wear it at home.

“Why are we waiting; why are we waiting ...?” Sang Maddy from the landing outside his door. “Come on Gabs; what's keeping you?” Then as the door opened; “Kewel! That is one posh nightie. You look like a princess.” She dropped a mock curtsey.

“Any more from you and I'll have you sent to the tower,” said Gaby, eyes twinkling.

Maddy; not to be outdone as a drama queen, threw herself on the floor grasping at the hem of Gaby's nightdress and said in a feeble voice, “Oh no not the tower. Please don't send me to the tower.”

“Oh alright then, give me a hug instead,” as they were hugging, Carol arrived.

“Let's see, oh Gaby; that is absolutely lovely. You must let Maddy take a picture for your mum. Where's your camera?” She asked a blank space, Maddy had already gone to fetch it. Two ticks later and Drew was made to pose this way and that as Maddy took several photos.

“Why do you need so many?” asked Drew, thinking one would do.

“One for your mum, one for me, one for Harry, one for ….”

“You're not going to give one to Harry, I forbid it.”

“Tough cheese princess; it's suddenly become a republic,” retorted Maddy and waltzed off to her bedroom leaving Gaby stamping her foot on the landing.

The garment was comfortable to sleep in; and clutching his fluffy bunny; Drew went off to sleep thinking of his mother and pretending she was all around him as the nightdress was. He slept well that night.

He awoke the next morning feeling rested and relaxed. The nightdress was so comfortable, and he was still clutching his fluffy bunny. He was curled up in a foetal position. It was daylight but he had no idea of time. He tried to doze until he heard the others rising; then he thought about the evening. They were going to the cinema. Shit! He was going to the cinema with his ‘boyfriend'.

Irritatingly, he hadn't actually agreed to go. It had been assumed he would by Harry and by Auntie Carol. How did he get into these situations? Bummer!

'Why does everyone assume I'm a girl?' he asked himself as he went to the bathroom. He sat to urinate; it was second nature; but the irony passed him by. He stood in front of the mirror, in the nightdress; no makeup but with painted finger and toenails; holding a fluffy toy he posed this way and that. In his mind he could easily see why everyone thought he was a girl, but he wanted to see something else. He wanted to see Drew the cycling ace, but hard as he looked, he couldn't find him. He wasn't there.

He sat on the edge of the bed holding tightly the fluffy bunny; tears were in his eyes. 'What has happened to me? How did it happen? Why did it happen? What was going to happen?' Oh boy that was too scary to even think about; let alone speak out loud.

He was so wrapped in his thoughts; he didn't hear Maddy come in, “Would Princess Gaby like to partake of some breakfast?” she said brightly. When he didn't respond to her joke; except to clutch the bunny even tighter; she realised something was wrong. “You okay?” she asked, watching a tear roll down his cheek.

“What's the matter?” she asked putting her arm around him. He said nothing but began to sob. She pulled him tighter, and he turned to face her resting his head on her shoulder as she rubbed his back. “What's the matter, Gabs? You can tell me,” she spoke softly and reassuringly.

He continued to cry for a few minutes longer while Maddy tried to comfort him. When she asked what the problem was again, he replied in faltering tones, “I don't know who I am any more, or what I am.”

“You're my cousin and a very lovely one,” she squeezed him as she said it.

He half laughed but continued sobbing gently, “Who am I, Maddy?”

“Whoever you want to be,” she replied diplomatically.

“I don't think I am anymore.”

“What do you mean?” she asked rubbing his back again.

“I just wanted to be me, Drew, but no one seems to believe me anymore. Even my mother seems to want a second daughter.”

“No she doesn't, she wants you to be happy in whichever role you feel is more appropriate.”

“So why did she give me a nightdress?”

“Because you are in Gaby mode, and it's more appropriate.”

“She could have given me jammies; no one would see them when I'm in bed.”

“Perhaps she thought you would like the nightdress. You do, don't you?”

“Yes, in a way I do.”

“So what's the problem?” asked Maddy.

“I'd have preferred something for Drew,” he began sobbing again.

“Come on, she probably saw the nightie and fell in love with it. Then hearing you were in Gaby mode and knowing you didn't have many nighties; she gave it to you. After all, she had nothing to do with you being Gaby this time did she?”

“No I s'pose not.”

“And it is a lovely nightie.”

“Yes, it is,” he allowed, shuddering as he tried to stop a sob.

“I'll bet it's comfy too?”

“Yes, it was.”

“And it looks lovely on you.”

“Does it?”

“You know it does, and you like it; don't you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You like the way it looks on you, which is why you feel confused about yourself. Correct?” She held him tightly as he thought about her last statement. Whatever he said she knew she was right. He was too natural to be role-playing. Gaby was a part of him or he a part of her; whichever way round it was.

“Does that mean I like being a girl?”

“Sometimes I think you do. It's possibly gone on a bit longer than you would have liked, but that's just the way it is.”

“But I'm a boy,” he pulled himself away from her almost maternal embrace. He looked her in the eye, then glanced at the floor. “I am a boy, aren't I?”

“If you say so.”

“Does that mean you don't think I am?”

“Look, Gabs, it doesn't matter what I think; it's how you feel about it that counts.”

“That's the problem. I don't know anymore.”

“Look, stop thinking about it just enjoy yourself as a girl for the next few days then we're back home and you can talk to your dad or Jules about it.”

“Why can't I talk to you about it?”

“You can, but while you're in Gaby mode; the rules expect me to treat you as such.”

“Sod the rules, tell me what you think.”

“I think I need to have breakfast,” she answered and left the room.

It was at times like this that he would have liked to hit someone; he felt very frustrated. 'Why couldn't she have answered? Did she avoid it because she knew I wouldn't like the answer? Does she think I ought to be a girl? Does she think I like being a stupid girl? Just because my mother wants another daughter; that's what this is all about! Everyone wants me to be a girl; well I'll show them.'

He paused in his thoughts. How was he going to show them? He had no idea. He could either be so horrible that everyone would know he was really a boy, but that would then hurt everyone; himself included. It would also make Cheeseman's day; he'd be able to mock Harry even more, accusing him of not knowing the difference between boys and girls, or worse; accusing him of being gay. He couldn't do that to Harry.

What else could he do? The opposite would be to become so girly that it ticked everyone off. But could he do that, and what exactly would it involve? He wasn't sure, it wasn't just the opposite of the hooligan: it was far more complex than that. Then the sixty four dollar question: did he really want to do it; become more girly?

Realising it is easier to think on a full stomach, he went down the stairs unaware he was still in the nightdress and holding the bunny.

“Hi, Gabs, plenty of toast here,” said Maddy, “Need some lettuce for Bunny?”

“What?” said Drew, half in a daze, “lettuce?”

“For your rabbit,” she pointed at the soft toy he clasped to himself.

“Oh, I didn't realise I had it with me.”

“Come and sit down, Gaby.” said Carol. “Cereal and toast on the table, tea's just mashing.” After he'd sat down, she asked, “So how was the nightdress?”

“Fine; thanks, yeah, it was okay,” he began to eat a slice of toast and seemed less animated than usual.

“So what's the plan for today?” she asked looking him in the eye. He'd been crying, his eyes were sore; she needed to speak to him; preferably without Maddy as an audience.

“Dunno, I'd like to get out on a bike at some point, then we've got this stupid film thing this evening. Is there anything you'd like to do Auntie Carol?”

“Not especially, but thanks for asking. What about you, Madeleine, anything you want to do?”

“We haven't been to the beach yet, not properly. You know go for a swim, get sand in your knickers; that sort of thing. How d'you fancy that ,Princess Gaby?”

“What's with the ‘Princess Gaby' bit?” Carol demanded of Maddy.

“In that nightdress; Gaby looks like a princess. It's only a bit of fun.”

“Does Gaby think it's fun too?” Carol asked of her cousin's child.

Not wanting to cause any bad feeling or drop Maddy in trouble Drew answered, “It's okay, I s'pose this is a bit posh for everyday wear,” he tugged at the nightdress as he said it.

“I don't agree, I think every day is special enough to wear nice things so you wear it as long or as often as you want. Don't take any notice of little miss jealousy.”

“I am not jealous,” said Maddy storming out of the dining room and up to her own bedroom, leaving Carol a moment to speak to Drew alone.

“Has she been teasing you Gaby? please tell me if she has,” Carol put a hand on his shoulder as she spoke.

“No. No she hasn't, honest,” he looked down at his lap as he spoke and Carol wasn't sure if he was being protective of Maddy or being truthful.

“Okay,” she said, “I believe you, but tell me, what's making you unhappy? I can see you've been crying. Please tell me Gaby, I want to help.”

“It's nothing Auntie Carol,” a tear rolled down his cheek.

“If it's nothing sweetheart; why is it upsetting you now?” she clasped his hands and he stole a glance at her. She managed to hold the eye contact longer than he liked, but he knew he could trust her, “Come on kiddo; you can tell me. I promise I won't repeat anything to anyone.”

The dam began to crumble; the trickle began to become a flow. “I don't know anything anymore,” he sobbed, “I don't know who I am or what I am.”

“There, there,” she cooed holding his hands, “Who do you want to be?”

“I don't know,” he sobbed, “I feel really confused.”

“That's okay, sometimes we take a long time to know ourselves and understand what we really want. Sometimes it isn't what we thought it was, but changing it isn't always easy.”

“I know,” he said. “I'd just like to go back to being me, Drew, but I can't because I've agreed to ride this bike thing, and I'd be letting Harry and William down.”

“No one is forcing you to stay as Gaby. If you really want to change back I'll get your dad to come and get you, or I'll take you back myself and come back for the car.” She squeezed his hands as she said this. “I'll phone Matt and tell him you're not well and I sent you home. See; things can be changed.”

Drew looked her in the eye. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I would, you'd do it for me wouldn't you?” he nodded his agreement, then the dam burst, the flow became a torrent.

He ended up sitting on Carol's lap, holding bunny in one hand with the other over his face, which was on her shoulder, he was upset and embarrassed and frightened. This wasn't how teenage boys behaved. It was more like six year old girls, he hated himself, but he couldn't stop. He cried for ten minutes with Carol making soothing noises as she rubbed his back.

Maddy in full sulk stormed into the dining room beating a discreet retreat a moment later.

“So, do you want to go home?” asked Carol, as he seemed to calm down.

“It's okay,” he said, “I think I can cope for a few more days.”

“You don't have to, I'll get you home if you want.”

“No I'll stay, I want to ride that race.”

“Do you want me to cancel this evening? are you worried about what Harry might try in the cinema?”

“No, it's okay, I think I can handle him,” suddenly the double entendre in what he'd said occurred to him. It struck Carol a moment earlier. They both laughed. “Handle him; yuck.”

“If you do, make sure you wash your hands afterwards,” she commented, and they both roared again.

Maddy curious as to the sudden change in mood from downstairs came to investigate, “What's so funny?” she asked.

“Gaby was talking about Harry,” said Carol.

“I thought you liked him?” she asked of Gaby.

“He's alright for a boy, I s'pose,” replied the wunderkind. At this remark Carol really did begin to appreciate Drew or Gaby's dilemma, her heart really ached for him/her; whichever he/she would eventually become, whichever it was the odds were very close either way.

Drew Goes South Chapter 16 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

“Do you feel better now?” asked Maddy, as Drew came out of the bathroom.

“Yeah; I'm okay,” he was swathed in towels after showering. “I think seeing my mum just stirred everything up, that's all.” He didn't sound very convincing but Maddy wasn't going to press the point.

“So what we doin' then?” she asked, “Riding?”

“I need to do some training, ideally I'd like to do it on that bike.”

“What, the thingy-type?” said Maddy.

“It's not quite a prototype, but it is a pre-production model. Knowing what it cost to develop almost makes me scared to ride it. What happens if I break it?”

“It's a bike. They don't just break … do they?” Maddy's voice rose a little nervously as she asked the question.

“Carbon fibre does; it shatters on impact,” said Drew, clapping his hands together to make the point and his towel turban came undone falling over his face. Maddy laughed, “Hey, it's gone dark,” he said from under the towel.

Maddy lifted the towel off his face and gave it to him, he started to replace it when the bath towel he'd wrapped around his chest began to droop. “Aah,” he squealed grasping one towel with each hand, and rushed into his bedroom.

“The art is in tucking the ends in tightly enough,” called Maddy from the landing.

“Now you tell me,” he called back.

“I thought everyone knew that.”

“Yeah, everyone except me.”

“Oh, Gabs, you are a dipstick,” Maddy replied chuckling.

“A dipstick on a bike? that would be sump-thing,” he called back, laughing at his own joke. It went over Maddy's head.

There was further laughing from the bedroom followed by a pause, then, ”Oops.”

“What's happened?” asked Maddy, “It sounded serious; have you broken a nail or something?”

“Worse, my right boob just fell off.” Another pause; then, “Bugger; there goes the other one.”

Maddy ignored etiquette and rushed into Drew's room to see him standing in a pair of knickers, holding a breast form in each hand. He put them on the bed and began to rub the newly exposed skin, “That feels so good,” he said as he rubbed his chest.

“I think Matt or Harry might notice you've gone a bit flat in the chest department,” said Maddy.

“Blow them,” retorted Drew, “this feels like heaven.”

“Will a bra hold them tightly enough when you're riding?” asked Maddy, knowing it would.

“Yeah, I've done it before, played badminton and done cheer practice with just the bra holding them.”

“What about a quick fumble in the dark?” asked Maddy.

“What d'you mean?” Drew looked puzzled.

“I mean,” said Maddy, “What if Harry gets amorous and gropes your chest? Won't he be able to tell they're loose?”

Drew picked up one of the breast forms and holding it out, said, “I'll take one out and say, “Here if you want to play with them, try this,” it should get his attention."

“It might also get you murdered.”

“Don't worry. I have no intention of letting him cop a feel of anything.”

“Gabs, I'm still worried.”

“It's only ‘cos you're jealous,” said Drew; eyes sparkling.

“Jealous? Jealous of what?” asked a perplexed Maddy.

“ ‘Cos you can't take yours off and have a good scratch,” he was laughing.

“No, you are quite right.” She was blushing and he was enjoying finally having got one over on her. “But then, you can't leave them on and have a good rub.” She began to massage her breasts and her nipples began to grow. They soon became visible through her tee-shirt.

Drew's eyes grew larger and larger, “Gee whiz!” he exclaimed once his mouth shut. “I guess you're right, I can't.” leaving him speechless, Maddy turned on her heel and left.

He sat on the bed, holding the breast forms and looking at his own nipples. They were quite large for a boy and seemed harder than usual, he wondered whether it would be nice to have ones like Maddy. That was some trick.

He got dressed and went downstairs. He wore his riding kit, “Let me guess what you're doing,” said Carol as he went into the kitchen.

“I'm going swimming,” he replied.

“In a cycling helmet?”

“Yeah, they're polystyrene; it will help to keep my head up.” They all laughed.

“You feel better?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Good,” she gave him a warm smile, which he received as intended. He smiled back. “I'm going to Bournemouth,” she announced, “To have a flit around the shops. Can you grab a sandwich?”

“Yeah, no problemo.”

“Gabs, would you mind if I went with Mum to Bournemouth?” said Maddy looking slightly embarrassed.

“Not if you want to,” Drew replied, feeling mixed emotions. It was nice to have Mad about, but if he did some proper training, she got in the way.

“Thanks,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. Then rushed upstairs to change into something more suitable for serious shopping.

“You sure you'll be alright on your own, Gaby?” Carol looked a bit concerned.

“Course I will, when I've finished, I'll come back here and sit with my arms folded, Okay?” He managed to keep a straight face while he said it.

“You silly thing,” said Carol smiling widely, and she patted him on the shoulder. “Got your key?”

“Yes, in my Gaby bag.” He rolled his eyes as he held up his small bag, “Along with my purse and Derringer.”

Carol did a double-take, 'Derringer, a small gun. Small gun – self-protection. It sort of makes sense,' she thought to herself, “Shouldn't you stick it in your knicker leg; like they do in cowboy films?”

“It would show in these,” said Drew pulling the lycra material of his shorts to illustrate his point.

“Yes, I can see that now, I suppose cycling in a corset and a bustle might prove a bit difficult.”

“In a what?” said Drew, open-mouthed. He knew what a corset was, he'd seen Madonna in one, “What's a bustle?”

“Never mind, I was only joking. Enjoy your ride.”

Drew got his bike out of the garage and after some stretching exercises, mounted it and set off towards Matt's shop. He was only half way through the village when someone called him.

“Gaby, yes, it is you … can I come with you?” It was Harry. Drew cursed under his breath. “Where's Maddy?”

“Gone to Bournemouth,” he looked at Harry, “Think you'll be able to keep up?”

“I'll try. Do let me come with you.”

“Alright. I'm going to Matt's shop. If I can get the race bike, I'm gonna push it quite hard. You sure you want to come?”

“Absolutely.” He smiled back, totally smitten.

Drew thought about setting a tough pace but it would have been both unnecessary and unkind. Instead, he allowed Harry to ride alongside much of the way into Weymouth.

As they passed Radipole Reserve, they saw Cheeseman walking away from the reserve. They stopped and hid behind a parked car, “What's he up to?” said Harry.

“I don't know, shall we go and take a look?” said Drew.

“What about the bikes? There's no cycling on the reserve,” commented Harry.

“We can still push ‘em, can't we?” retorted Drew, “Come on, let's go see.” They rode to the entrance to the reserve and jumped off their bikes, trotting alongside them. Several times people came past them riding bikes despite the signs prohibiting the activity. “Didn't know blind people could ride bikes,” said Drew in a loud voice as one of the lawbreakers rode past.

“Aw piss off,” he got as a response from the rider.

“Can't think why cyclists get a bad name,” he said as they continued towards the hide.

“If you were a boy, that last one might have been quite aggressive,” commented Harry.

“Good job I'm not then, isn't it?” Drew was smiling to himself, “But it irritates me to see so-called cyclists flouting the law. They don't stop at traffic lights, go down one-way streets the wrong way….”

“Park on double yellow lines,” quipped Harry.

“Yes, park on double … Whose side are you on?” puffed, a now tiring Drew.

“Yours, light of my life,” quipped Harry.

“You can cut that out straight away,” snapped back Drew.

“Anything you say, goddess.”

Drew suddenly stopped and Harry had to swerve his bike to avoid a collision, “Will you stop this nonsense, NOW?” said Drew angrily.

Harry swallowed hard.

“If you tell me I look lovely when I'm angry, so help me, I'll thump you.”

“Okay, okay, it's true, but I won't say it,” said Harry stepping backwards, “I'll behave.” He added, looking at the ground. “I can't help how I feel.”

“Neither can I," snapped Drew, “So don't push your luck.”

“Okay. I get the message.”

“Good, let's go,” said Drew trotting on again towards the hide.

When they got there; they found a few bird watchers in occupation. They made their way up to the raised viewing area, trying desperately to see if anything was visible in the gloom, “Hey, that's a hobby,” called one of the twitchers excitedly, “There around the back of the pool. Look at him go after that dragonfly,” They all looked out the front of the hide with renewed interest.

“Looked like a swallow to me, but then they all do,” said Drew giggling.

“No. It's a small falcon about the same size as a swift, it catches insects and small birds. They're quite rare these days. Here use these,” said the young man handing a pair of binoculars to Drew. “There he goes,” he said pointing out the window.

Drew pretended to follow the bird, but cast around the upper part of the hide including the underside of the roof. He saw something, or thought he did, sticking out of the hiding place
.

“How do you make the picture clearer, it's all squiffy?” he said to the helpful birdwatcher, acting like a dumb blonde.

“I take it you don't go bird watching too much then?” said Helpful.

“Who, little ol' me? How did you know that? You must be some sort of genius?” giggled Drew in little girl/bimbo style.

“Here, let me show you,” helpful, took the binoculars and showed where to adjust them, he put his arms around Drew from behind holding the binoculars. Harry tapped his foot in irritation, as Gaby appeared to be flirting with Mr Helpful.

“How close can you see with these ?”

“These are Nikons, so they're pretty versatile,” he turned the screw and handed them back to Drew, “Try that.”

“Oh, yes,” giggled Drew, “These are good aren't they? They are such a pretty colour too,” He continued to sweep around the front of the hide then around the inside of the hide. “Ooh, I can see the wood across there, it's so clear. I can nearly touch it.” He squeaked like a demented banshee, then handed them back to the birdwatcher, with a polite thanks.

A moment or two later, he stood at the doorway and called, “Goodbye,” this was said in the same little girl voice. All the birdwatchers turned around and replied, waving to her. Drew closed the door, pausing outside; laughter came from within.

“Thought you were away there, Mick,” said one voice. “Jailbait,” said another. It was followed by more laughter.

“Come on,” said Drew, pushing his bike away from the hide.

“What was all that about? Why the silly voice?” asked Harry.

“I wanted to borrow his binoculars. I thought I saw something in the space before he gave them to me, afterwards, I knew I saw something.”

“And he thought you were a dumb blonde?”

“I don't care what he thought, he did what I wanted,” quipped Drew.

“Feminine wiles in action, what chance do we mere men stand?” sighed Harry, lost in admiration for his goddess. Drew nearly choked at this while stifling a laugh. He continued pushing his bike back towards the road.

“What do we do next?” asked Harry, as they neared the road.

“I'm not sure, I expect the police are keeping tabs on things. The big question is; did he put whatever was in the hidey-hole, or was he trying to collect it? He could hardly collect it while Bill Oddie and friends were in there, could he?”

“I suppose not, for a blonde, you're pretty clever, aren't you?” said the would-be suitor.

“I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't keep doing that, it's very sexist as well as being irritating. Having blonde hair does not have any influence upon my mental abilities, I'm just as mental as everyone else,” said Drew with a twinkle as he climbed back on his bike.

He wasn't really sure how he felt about the hero worship from Harry, the smitten would be suitor really got up his nose, but being told he was clever, that was something else. As for pulling off the Marilyn Monroe stunt at the hide, it got him exactly what he wanted. That no one saw through it, made him feel good, they were all too busy looking at his boobs and legs, so it was easy. They simply did as he wanted because they thought he was a pretty bimbo and all the while thinking they were superior. That was the real laugh.

'Maybe Maddy is right, girls are superior life forms. Does that make me feel better or worse? Dunno.' By the time this had rattled around his brain a few times, they were at Matt's shop.

“Hi Tim, is Matt around?” called Drew as he walked in with Harry right behind.

“No he's not, he's at a meeting with one of our suppliers. So he'll have to eat and drink loads. It's really hard work,” he threw a beaming smile at Drew. “Personally, I'm quite happy he does that side of things. I'd much rather get my hands dirty with real work. How's the Dolce going?”

“Fine; it goes really well, though not quite as well as the new bike,” said Drew dropping hints like bricks.

“Ah, I get it; you want to borrow the carbon bike?” he shook his head as Drew nodded his. “I promised Mr Bower, you wouldn't use it unless accompanied by someone from the shop.”

“So that means no?” said a dejected Drew.

Tim looked at his watch, “It's eleven now. If I close up for half an hour or so at, say, half twelve. I could do with some exercise. That's the best I can do, kids.”

“That's fine,” said Drew, having been brought up to believe half a loaf was better than no bread at all, he went for what he could get. “One thing I was going to ask.”

“Go on.”

“Any chance of fitting tribars?”

“To your bike or the carbon?”

“The carbon.”

“I think so, but this is a race not a time trial.”

“I know, but some of those hills, the descents would be even faster with TBs.”

“I'll speak to Matt about it. I'd have to take the extra brakes off.”

“I could live with that, they are nice, but I'd like to do as well as I can on Sunday.”

“For a girl you are very competitive," said Tim.

“Not really, I just like my own way.”

“My wife keeps saying that,” said Tim with a twinkle in his eye. “She usually gets it too.” then to Harry who had kept very quiet, “You'd better watch this one, or she'll have you trained better than a performing dog.”

“I don't mind,” replied Harry, blushing furiously.

“No, that's what I always say to Matt when he mentions it,” revealed Tim.

“Matt not married then?” said Drew, playing the femme fatale again, mainly because it got Harry irritated.

“Matt? You have to be joking,” laughed Tim, “His motto is, ‘Why make one girl unhappy when I can make loads very happy'. It seems to work for him too.”

“So there's hope for me yet then?” asked Drew innocently, while Harry nearly choked to death. 'That was wicked of me. But he's been peeing me off with his comments all morning, so let's make him jealous. Hee, hee.'

“Judging by what he said about your riding, and having seen it for myself, I think Matt might just be showing his age a little,” said Tim chuckling as he said it.

“It could be I like older men?” said Drew coyly, rubbing salt in Harry's wounds.

“There are older men, and old men, sadly Matt falls into the latter category.” chuckled Tim. “I'd stick with someone nearer your own age, like Harry, here.”

Drew looked around at Harry and said, “Doesn't look like I've got much choice, does it?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry's spirit sink even lower. Now they were quits. He was quite surprised that he could play such girlish games with the men, but they seemed to offer themselves up for it. If nothing else, he decided he would now be able to spot Maddy when she was doing some manipulating, so he didn't fall victim to it. He pushed to the back of his mind, why he found it so easy. He didn't want to go there.

“See you at half twelve then, come on Watson,” said Drew to Harry.

“Yes ,Holmes,” said Harry, wondering why Gaby had got so nasty all of a sudden. 'Maybe it was payback for my jokes earlier. Maybe she doesn't really like me?'

“Gaby, are we still going to the cinema tonight?” he asked, half expecting some smart put down in response.

“I think so, why, you changed your mind?”

“No, not at all, what's your favourite sweets and drink?”

“I can bring my own.”

“Oh!” he said dejectedly.

Realising he had been a bit curt, Drew thought some kind words would have the puppy wagging its tail again. “You're a nice boy Harry and I like you. I said I would come to the pictures with you, you don't need to bribe me with sweets or anything else. I'm only going to watch the film.”

Feeling he was still in with a chance, he brightened up significantly, “can I buy you a sandwich for lunch, then?”

“No, I am quite capable of buying my own. You don't need to buy me anything. Save your money, put it towards a decent bike.”

“What's wrong with this one?” he said looking at the one he was sitting on.

“Nothing, but neither is there much good about it. When we go back to the shop I'll ride the new bike, we'll get Tim to put the saddle up on this one and you can ride it. Then you might understand what I'm on about. Until you've ridden a half-decent bike, you won't realise what you're missing.”

“But that's a girl's bike?”

“So?” Drew glared at him.

“Nothing,” he said very quietly, blushing profusely.

They rode back to Radipole and went into the reserve's reception centre to look through the telescopes they have there.

“The hobby's back,” said Drew, “So is you know who.”

“I thought you didn't know anything about birds,” said an astonished Harry.

“It's dangerous to think, better leave it to me,” said Drew, quoting a line Maddy often threw at him. He was beginning to realise that girls did hold some power in relationships with boys. As a boy, he hadn't always recognised it. As a girl, he was enjoying it. This was heady stuff.

He continued peering through the telescope, “he's on his way round to the hide. He's wasting his time though, it's full of birdwatchers watching the hobby. How sad,” the latter was said with derision.

They left the RSPB centre and walked somewhere they could sit and talk without Cheeseman seeing them. “Why do you think he's back?” asked Harry.

“Well, Watson, I don't think he's been able to collect something. My guess is it's either drugs or money.”

“Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Probably? There are no probabilities about it. The great ‘Cycling Detective' is never wrong. ‘Eets the little grey cells, mon brave .' “ The Poirot impression was said with as deep a voice and as phoney an accent as was possible, which led to Drew coughing a few times.

Laughing Harry replied, “I think you're mixing your sleuths. As Belgian accents go, that was more like Dutch, Double Dutch,” he then ran off before Drew could hit him.

“Let's get some chocolate or something, and get back to the shop it's nearly half twelve,” said Drew, once more mounting his bike. Harry looked at his and then at the Specialized, shrugged his shoulders and followed his leader.

Tim adjusted the saddle of Gaby's bike for Harry as Drew got the carbon bike from the rear of the shop. Tim then got his own bike out and they set off. Harry had never ridden a bike with combined brake and gear levers, so it took him a few minutes to get the hang of them. He did like the extra brake levers in the centre of the handlebars.

They set off up the Chickerell Road, eventually passing by Chickerell and heading towards Abbotsbury. The road does a sharp corner to the right, then meanders up and down hills for several miles. Some of the hills are quite steep and one has a blind summit. Drew was cycling well within himself, Tim seemed to keep up quite well and Harry was struggling but giving it a go.

“If you want to give it a burn up, go on. I'll keep an eye on Harry. When you get to Portesham turn right. Go up through the village and follow the road. There's a nasty hill but if you want to test yourself have a go at it. Turn around at the top, then come on back down. We'll wait for you by the garage.”

“You sure?” asked Drew, happy to be let off the leash.

“Go on before I change my mind,” called Tim to the already accelerating figure in front of him.

Drew leant over the handlebars and as he began to descend the first hill, clicked up through the gears and sped away. The road surface left something to be desired, but he was happy. It was a lovely bike and he was enjoying himself.

He dug in to climb the first slope, it was the blind summit. A car rushed past him as he neared the top, but he was quite safe. Flying down the other side he began to gain on the car which had just passed him, he was pleased to see it accelerate and leave him the space.

Up the next rise, this one less steep but a longer pull, he was out of the saddle and charging up it. He felt great, so did the bike. He may not be good at many things, but he could ride a bike. He passed a scrap yard on the other side of the road, not paying too much attention to the untidy tangle of metal and car bodies it displayed. He was into his cadence now, and that was all he thought about.

Down the other side of the hill and round into Portesham, he signalled and turned right. A slow climb up through the village on a winding road with several turnings off. Then, once clear of the buildings, the road began to rise. Now; this was a hill!

He changed down through the gears as he felt the pull of gravity on his leg muscles. It was steep and long, a good test of fitness. A car pulled past him, its engine labouring and emitting lots of black, choking smoke. It did finally pull away but not before he'd struggled to breathe and his eyes stung.

He kept going, remembering watching Armstrong in the Pyrenees, standing on his pedals and accelerating up mountains. He was now standing on his pedals and keeping up a reasonable rate. The hill was nasty and he was struggling to maintain a reasonable speed. It dipped below ten MPH, but he kept going. Finally, he breasted the summit his lungs and heart working at pretty well their maximum. He felt hot and sweaty, but he'd got there.

He pulled into a driveway to a farm and turned around, setting off down the hill as the traffic allowed. Knowing the bends in the road and the vagaries of the traffic, he allowed himself the luxury of freewheeling back down the hill. Tim and Harry were waiting near the garage, drinking bottles of water. Tim offered one to Drew, who accepted it gratefully.

“How d'you get on?” Tim asked Gaby.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you just cycled up a steep hill and it's okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Think about it well young lady, because this is part of the race circuit for Sunday.”

“Which way will we be going?” asked Drew.

“I'm not sure, probably in from the top then back towards Weymouth.”

“Kewel,” said Drew. He finished his drink, it was needed.

“Ready to go back?” asked Tim, Drew nodded but Harry was struggling.

“My bike alright?” asked Drew of Harry.

“Yeah, now I've the hang of the gears. I see what you mean about the ride, it is better than my old thing.”

“Had you ridden with drops before?” asked Drew.

“What are drops?” asked a puzzled Harry.

“The handlebars, you dipstick.” said Drew, then, repeating his joke of the morning; he said to Tim. “I'll bet you've never seen a dipstick on a bike before?”

“Oh yes, I have. I reckon half the riders I see on the roads would be in that category. Now stop bullying Harry, he's doing his best. Just because you're exceptional at riding, doesn't give you licence to judge others. Remember, a sign of greatness is the acceptance of others for themselves.”

Drew blushed, feeling rather stupid. Now the joke was on him. The only way to deal with it was to admit the mistake and apologise. “Yeah, I s'pose you're right Tim, I'm sorry Harry, it was mean of me.”

“That's okay,” he said, “I wasn't offended anyway,” his beaming smile nearly blinded Drew.

“Right Gaby, can you remember the way back to the shop?” asked Tim.

“Course I can,” came the response, it was hardly a difficult journey, simply follow the road back. Drew set off ahead of the others.

“Don't let her browbeat you kid, you're doing alright. She's like her mother, something special on a bike. She forgets the rest of us are human,” said Tim as the two mounted their bikes.

“She's also rather pretty, don't you think,” said Harry, still beaming.

“Oh, you've sure got a beauty there. You'll make some of the other lads jealous, I'll bet.”

“I do hope so,” he replied smugly, “I really do.”

Drew Goes South Chapter 17 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

---

(title picture Andrea Piacquadio

Drew arrived back at the bike shop knowing he'd have to wait a little while for the other two to arrive. He called the police on his mobile, and much to his astonishment spoke to PC Ben Martin. “Hello PC Martin, it's Gaby Bond.”

“Hello Gaby, what can I do for you?”

“I just thought I'd let you know we passed Cheeseman skulking around the reserve at Radipole. After he left we had a look in the hide and there was something put in the hidey-hole. We couldn't see what it was, there were bird watchers there.”
*

“Thanks for the information. Don't worry, we know he's been around the place. We have someone doing surveillance who also happens to like birds, the feathered variety! We'll get him if he's up to no good.”

“Okay PC Martin, we'll leave it up to you, then.” said Gaby, not entirely reassured.

“I would young lady. If it's drugs, some of these creeps can cut up rough. I'd hate to see you get hurt, especially as you've been such a help to us.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“That's okay. Tell your mum thanks for the photo.”

“ ‘kay.” Drew then rang off. 'I suppose the police know what they are doing, and some of these drug gangs can get violent. Maybe it's just as well if we leave it to them. So why am I not happy about it? I don't think they seem to be taking it entirely seriously.' He said to himself.

As these thoughts were going through his mind, someone flashed past on a bike, it was Cheeseman. Without a thought of Tim's stipulations about the bike, Drew flew after him. He stayed back far enough to observe without being seen. He had a plain top on, and a different helmet to the one in which he'd raced. He hoped if he was seen, he wouldn't be recognised.

Cheeseman headed towards the reserve. Drew watched from a vantage point nearby. He was definitely going into the reserve. Drew headed off along the relief road, which ran nearly alongside the path to the hide. He got to the spot quicker than Cheeseman, so was able to hide himself and observe. As expected, Cheeseman headed for the hide. A few minutes later he was riding back again with a happy look on his face.

This time he came out on the relief road, Drew, hoping he wouldn't be seen hiding in the bushes, froze. Cheeseman set off towards Weymouth. A minute later Drew followed.

Cheeseman rode up the old railway track, now a footpath and cycle-way. Drew had to hang back to avoid being seen. After five or ten minutes, Drew followed him off the path to a row of houses opposite the Asda supermarket. He watched from a distance as he went to one of the houses. A few minutes later, he came out again putting something in his pocket, then he rode off. Drew cycled past slowly noting the number of the house and the street name. He noted the time, then he made his way back to the shop.

Tim was not very pleased. “Just where have you been young lady?”

“I extended my ride up and down Weymouth Way. I thought I'd be back before you got here.”
*
“I thought we had an agreement about this bike.”

“I'm sorry.” Gaby looked sufficiently contrite for Tim to let her off.

“Okay, this time I'll let you off. If you do it again I shall tell Matt. He'll be furious and may even reconsider allowing you to race it. So don't do it again. UNDERSTOOD?”

“Yes Tim, I am sorry. It's such a lovely bike I didn't want to stop riding it.”

“Right, put it in the back, I'll readjust your saddle.” Gaby did as she was told and Tim adjusted the saddle of her bike back to its normal height. Harry would have to ride his own bike again.

“Thanks for the ride. I'll give Matt a ring tomorrow.”

“Okay Gaby, ride safely. 'Bye Harry.” Called Tim as they left.

“Where did you go, he went spare when he found you weren't here?” Said Harry as they rode slowly away.

“I saw Cheeseman.” Said Drew.

“You saw Cheeseman?”

“That's what I said, do you have to repeat it?”

“No. Where was he?”

“If you let me tell you, you'll find out.”

“Sorry.”

“I followed him to the reserve. He went to the hide. He was only there a couple of minutes, then he came out looking pleased with himself. I followed him and he went to a house. He wasn't in that more a few minutes. He came out shoving something in his pocket. Then he took off and I came back to the shop.”

“Did you make a note of the house?” asked Harry.

“No. Why should I?” said Gaby rolling her eyes to the heavens. “Of course I did. What do you think I am, as dumb as you?”

“There's no need to be rude about it.”

“Well don't ask silly questions then.”

“Where was it?” said Harry, blushing and feeling very intimidated by this slip of a girl.

“Come on I'll show you.” With that she led him to the road and indicated the house as they passed it.

“Ring any bells with you?” she asked after they were a safe distance away.

“No, but I have a friend who might know. Come on let's go and see him, if he's in. He plays a lot of football.”

“But it's summer,” protested Gaby.

“Doesn't make any difference to him. He's footie crazy.”

“He's what?” asked a bemused Gaby.

“He's totally mad about football. A bit like you and bikes.”

“I beg your pardon,” said an indignant Gaby.

“Look don't deny it, you come alive when you're talking about bikes or cycling. Other girls talk about boys and fashions, with you it's bikes.”

“So?”

“So nothing. I'd rather talk about bikes and cycling than boys and fashion,” said Harry tongue in cheek.

“We can talk about those things if you like,” said Drew, but it was brinkmanship.

“Okay,” said Harry, “What do you go for in a boy?”

'Shit!' thought Drew. 'I won't try that again!' “Honesty, sense of humour, good looking I s'pose. Prefer one who likes cycling. Likes the same sort of things as me. I dunno, what am I supposed to say?”

“Nothing especially.”

“What do you look for in a girl?”

“She has to be kind, good looking, sporty – preferably cycling nut. Has to have a funny accent, and like Discworld.”

Drew went pale. “Do you read Terry Pratchett books then?”

“Yeah, course I do. You do too, don't you?”

“How did you know?”

“I have to confess, Maddy told me.”

“How did that come about?”

“I asked her before the dance what you were interested in? She told me Discworld, amongst other things. So I knew we had something in common.”

“Oh!” said Drew, completely staggered by this info. “Maddy never said anything about it.”

“I expect she's forgotten.”

“Maybe.”

“Here we are. I'll go and see if he's in.” Harry leant his bike against the front wall of a house and ran in. Drew waited in the road. He heard the doorbell ring and then voices. Moments later, Harry trotted out. “He's probably down the rec.”

“Where's that?”

“Down the road” he set off and Gaby followed.

They arrived at Weymouth Rec, or Recreation Ground, to give it its full name. A municipal park with a few football, rugby or cricket pitches on it and a small block of changing rooms. Harry scanned the horizon for a few minutes, then pointed. “There he is.”

They dismounted and walked towards the group of seven boys and two girls, who were all playing football. One of the boys waved to them, Harry waved back.

“Peter, can we have a word a minute?” called Harry. The boy who'd waved moved towards them.

“Hi Harry, who's this, your girlfriend?” said Peter, smiling at Gaby.

“Uh yeah. Sorry, this is Gaby.” He pointed at Drew, then looking at him and pointing at his friend, said,” Gaby, this is Peter King. football nut meet cycling nut.”

“That's not a very kind way to introduce your girlfriend. If you're not careful someone with much more sophistication might just take her off you,” said Peter to Harry, then to Gaby: “I like to cycle as well as play soccer, maybe we could get together some….”

“For sophisticated, you're way too obvious. Forget it Pete, she's mine.” At this Drew bit his tongue. 'I am no one's except Maddy's, stupid boys!' he thought.

“Come on. Gaby, give me a chance. A classy girl like you going out with this bozo. You deserve better,” was Peter's retort.

Drew looked at the boy. He was about the same size as Harry, with mousy hair and freckles. He had large brown eyes, which were his best feature. He was quite good looking in an average sort of way.

“How about I get my bike and we go for a ride?” offered Peter. Harry was about to respond with something cutting when he kept quiet instead. “I'll just run back for it, be back in a mo,” he trotted off towards his house.

“Don't show him any mercy,” said Harry to the wunderkind.

“I thought we only came here to ask him something, not start a bike ride.” Drew was feeling more than a little angry. This playing the girl thing was getting out of hand, and now they were in open competition for someone who didn't really exist. “If I do put on some pace, how are we going to find out who lives at that house?”

“We could go past it to start with, and I'll ask him.”

“Okay; then what? If I up it what happens to you? What if he stays with me and you can't?” asked a concerned Drew.

“Don't worry he won't.”

“You don't know that.”

“No I don't, but I'll try and outstay him. See you back at yours, after?” said Harry, feeling that his cycling fitness had improved significantly over the last ten days.

“Just make sure we know who lives in that house. I hope you're up to this. Here he comes.” Said Drew, while thinking; 'How do I get into these situations and how the hell do I get out of this one?'

Peter arrived on a Diamondback MTB. It was grey-black in colour with knobbly all terrain tyres. He came riding over the grass, with little effort. Harry took a deep breath, Peter's bike was better than his. Now he could be in deep trouble. He really needed to speak to his father about getting something better, and soon.

“So where're we going then?” asked Peter as he arrived.

“Shall we let Gaby decide?” said Harry, with a nonchalance that he hoped would cover his anxiety.

“Okay. Take her away. Gaby,” called Peter, showing off.

Drew pushed his bike back to the path, and then mounted it, the two boys followed closely behind. The situation was farcical, sort of 'Charley's Aunt,' except this was real and Drew had never heard of the stageplay.

He led the group slowly past the street in question. Then stopped pretending there was something wrong with his bike. Both boys came to assist the damsel in distress. “Peter, do you know who lives in that house; number 27.The one with the black door?”

Peter took a surreptitious glance. “I hope you're not friends of theirs, ‘cos if you are I'm off.”

“Pretend to tighten this for me,” said Drew, pointing at a nut on the handlebars. “If they were friends, I'd hardly need to ask you their names would I?”he hissed at Peter.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Let's go, I'd feel safer.” He got back on his bike. The group cycled off and around the corner, where Drew stopped and the others came alongside. “The house is owned by the Meadows, a bunch of real thugs.”

“It didn't look obvious from the outside, although the net curtains were a bit OTT,” said Drew, trying to maintain the girly role play.

“Didn't one of them get done for murder?” asked Harry, searching his memory banks.

“They couldn't prove anything apparently, so he got off. Everyone knows he did it though, including the police. They really are bad news,” offered Peter.

“Do they know Cheeseman?” asked Gaby.

“What Ronnie ‘I'm a thug' Cheeseman?” said Peter, indicating inverted commas as he spoke.

“I doubt there are two of them,” replied Gaby.

“What are you mixing with him for? He's psycho,” said Peter looking concerned.

“It's a long story, but Harry and he had a run-in, hence the shiners” said Gaby, and Peter looked at Harry's face, Harry obligingly removed his sunglasses.

“Oops!” said Peter, smiling.

“Then I beat him in a bike race, and he got spiteful at me,” continued Gaby.

“You shoulda seen it, Pete, she smacked him one. Right on the conk. It was brill,” said Harry, while Gaby blushed gently.

“You hit Ronnie Cheeseman?” asked Peter, to which Gaby nodded, “I'm impressed!” he said, then he added, “You beat him in a bike race?”

“Yeah, but it was only a twenty-five,” said Gaby.

“Like twenty-five miles, like uphill and so on?” asked a now very impressed Peter.

“Yes, why?” asked Gaby as surprised as Peter seemed to be.

“Well, I hear Cheesy is quite a good cyclist, and how can something … I mean someone, who looks like a hot chick, beat him?”

“Gaby's mum is the world champion,” said Harry, puffing out his chest.

“You're shitting me?” said Peter, looking incredulously at Harry.

“No he's not,” said Gaby, “My mum's Jenny Bond, women's world champion road racer.”

“Wow, that's kewel,” said Peter, “So like mother like daughter?” He added.

“Something like that, can we get back to the story?”

“Yeah, shoot, I'm all ears, World champion, well cool,” said Peter, the latter almost to himself as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Harry took me to the village disco, and some kid was dancing like he was possessed, then he collapsed. We think he'd taken some ‘E'. We also think Cheesecake might have supplied the drugs.”

“It wouldn't surprise me,” chipped in Peter.

“Nor us, we saw him at the bird reserve…”

“What Radipole?”

“Yes, we searched a hide after he'd been there and found two hundred and fifty pounds hidden away,” Peter's jaw dropped. “He's been there a couple of times since, and there was something else tucked in the hidey-hole. We couldn't see what it was though,” continued Gaby.

“It was full of birdbrains, and you should have seen Gaby, she….” Harry was stopped in his tracks by the look Gaby gave him.

“The last time he went to the hide, we think he might have got what he wanted and he went round to that house. He wasn't there two minutes before he left, putting something in his pocket as he left.”

“Have you checked the hide?” asked Peter.

“Not yet, we wanted to know who lived at that house, so we came to you,” said Gaby.

“Kewel, Barbie meets Miss Marple,” said Peter.

“What?” snapped Gaby irritated by such a sexist remark.

“Sorry,” said Peter rather quietly, “I mean it isn't exactly a girly thing is it?”

“Neither is road racing,” said Gaby, stiffly.

“Let's go and look at the hide,” said Harry, attempting to pour oil on a gathering storm.
*
They agreed and went off to Radipole and the hide. Harry stayed behind with the bikes, while Gaby and Peter went to search. They opened the door of the hide and it was empty. She pointed to the hiding place, and Peter pulled up a bench and scrambled on top of it. He found the hole, but it was empty. They put the bench back and left.

“There was nothing there,” said Gaby as they got back to Harry, “So I think we can assume our little friend got what he was after.”

“Looks like, just as you suggested,” said Harry to Gaby.

“What do we do now?” asked Peter, “I'm rather new to this detective stuff.” Looking at the computer on her bike, Gaby said, “Well I'm going home, it's well past my lunch time.”

“Lunch time, it's half-past three,” said Peter.

“I thought my stomach was trying to tell me something,” said Harry.

“You can come back to mine if you want. I'm sure my mother would do you a sandwich.”

“No thanks, I need to get back,” said Gaby, “Come on Watson,” she added, to Harry.

“Let me know how you get on. Be careful with the Meadows and Cheesy, neither of them is very nice,” said Peter, as they parted at the exit to the reserve.

“That's the one,” said a woman in a four-wheel drive to her companion, “Barbie on a bike.”

“You sure?” said her companion.

“Pretty sure, three times I seen her come past the ‘ouse, twice she stopped and ‘ad a good stare. I'm sure she seen Ronnie leave too.”

“What do you want me to do Mum?” said Rodney Meadows to his mother.

“Frighten her.”

“What like knock her off her bike?”

“Yeah, that'll do.”

“Why don't we follow her and see where she lives, then we can get her any time?” said Rodney to his mother.

“Good idea Rod, but if the opportunity comes now, we take it, alright?”

“Yeah okay. I don't like hurting women though.”

“If you don't, she may be a copper's nark and cause us more trouble.”

“Yeah; I suppose you're right.”

“Just listen to me and do as I say.”

“Okay ma, okay.”

The two cyclists were riding up the cycle path on Radipole Park Drive, Gaby some thirty yards ahead, when she heard a diesel engine speed up and seem to come closer. Simultaneously Harry screamed, “Look out Gaby!”

With no alternative, she rode her bike straight over the side of the pavement and into the lake. The 4x4 screamed away.

Drew heard the noise of the car approaching and the bumps as it mounted the kerb. He caught sight out of the corner of his eye and heard Harry scream, he steered his bike for the only safe place, the lake. As he became airborne he managed to free his feet from the pedals, and the bike and he landed in the cold water a few paces apart.

Two cars who'd witnessed the attack stopped to help. Drew was hauled out by Harry, who had jumped in moments later, returning to get the bike.

“You alright, love?” asked a woman as Drew was helped up on to the pavement.

Drew was shaking with cold and shock, “I don't know.”

“Best get up the hospital, let ‘em check you over.” said the woman.

Thinking about being discovered and the complications it would cause, Drew shook his head, “I'm okay. I'll be okay.”

“I think the bike's alright,” said Harry looking as if he knew what he was doing. “How about you?”

“It was deliberate, wasn't it?” said Gaby shaking.

“Dunno, could have been,” replied Harry. “You alright?” he said hugging her and she burst into tears on his shoulder.

“Someone just tried to kill me,” she howled, while Harry hugged her and rubbed her back.

Drew Goes South Chapter 18 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

---

(title picture Andrea Piacquadio

Once the initial shock had passed, Drew began to calm down. His clothes dripping wet, he began to feel cold. Assured he was unhurt, the passers-by left. No one had taken the number of the 4x4.

“You okay now?” asked Harry, who was starting to shiver himself.

“I think so, but I'm getting cold.”

“Let's get home,” suggested Harry.

“Is my bike okay?” asked Drew, acting more like a girl than he'd like.

“I think so, but I'm no expert,” said Harry, picking up the red Specialized.

Drew took the bike and cursorily examined it. “It looks alright. Come on, I want to get home and out of these clothes.”

Harry thought for a minute, 'Can I come and watch.' but thought better of it. Instead he mounted his bike and followed behind. Drew had got wet riding a bike many times, but this was different and he felt colder than he usually did when soaked. However, he had to put up with it and they settled for a steady pace to get back some thirty minutes later.

He garaged his bike, bade Harry farewell and rushed into the house. Two minutes later he was stood under a steaming shower and beginning to feel warm again. He stayed there for twenty minutes, until the water began to run colder. Then wrapping a towel around his head and another around himself, girl fashion, it was now second nature: he went to his room and sat on the bed.

The strain of dealing with the experience had worn him out and he leant back on the bed and drifted off to sleep. He was still asleep when Maddy came rushing into his room.

“There you are, I've got this terrific top for you,” she gushed.

He struggled to wake up and she could see his eyes were still red. “Oh … Hi Mad.” He managed to squeak.

“Are you alright?” she asked, “It looks as if you've been crying.”

“Yeah, I'm okay now.”

“C'mon Gabs, tell your Auntie Maddy all about it. Did Harry upset you?” She put her arm around him as she spoke. He could feel her body warmth through the towel.

“Harry was actually very nice,” said Drew very quietly, he could feel tears coming into his eyes again.

“So what happened then?” queried Maddy calmly.

“Someone tried to kill me,” Drew felt the first tear roll down his face.

“Never mind,” said Maddy hugging him, but not taking on board what he'd said. “It doesn't matter now … What did you say?” she spluttered as the penny dropped.

“Someone in a four wheel drive ran me off the road into Radipole lake,” Drew was holding back on the full emotion, but the tears were now running freely.

“Deliberately?” asked Maddy.

“I think so.”

“Bloody hell, Gabs, have you told the police?”

“Not yet,” he said weakly, “No one got the number, and I can't prove anything.”

“What you mean, like it coulda been an accident?”

“Yeah.”

“But they didn't stop?”

“No. I think they drove off pretty fast, but I was in the lake by then.”

“Oh my, Gabs,” said Maddy, who was also crying by now, as they hugged. They stayed like this for several minutes until Carol appeared.

“You two alright?” she asked seeing the tear stained faces.

“Some horrible person tried to run Gaby down,” said Maddy.

“What? What happened?” said an astounded Carol, and she listened with growing anger as Drew told his tale. “I'm calling the police,” she said and left the room.

“C'mon girl, better get yourself dressed for the plod,” said Maddy, encouraging her cousin to rouse himself. “Did you wash your boobs after their swimming lesson?”

“No, I hadn't got round to it,” said Drew pulling on some knickers.

“No prob, I'll do it for you.” Maddy whisked them up and went to the bathroom. She was back two minutes later while Drew looked through his wardrobe to choose some clothes. “Hold still,” she said, and pushed them in place, they stuck.

“You put glue on them.”

“Yes; we got some in Bournemouth,” she smiled triumphantly.

“But I didn't want them stuck on again,” he pouted, on the verge of tears again.

“Oh, Gabs, you can't just have them shoved in a bra, someone will notice eventually.”

“But I didn't want….”

“C'mon girl, they're safer now. Here, put your bra on. Sit down and I'll tidy your hair.” Drew resigned himself to the easy option, pulled on the bra and relaxed as Maddy combed and brushed his hair. He enjoyed the sensation of her nimble fingers pulling and prodding about his head and neck. He could easily have slipped into sleep again he felt so relaxed. “There.” she said a few minutes later. It was in a relatively simple pony tail, but high up his head and very girly.

She showed him the new top she had bought for him, a pink vee necked, cap sleeved affair in a silky material. He nodded and she pulled it over his head.

“It feels nice,” he said.

“It ought to, it's silk,” replied Maddy.

“Like my nightie?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks, Mad.”

“You're welcome; how about the denim skirt with it?”

“Yeah, okay.” Drew did as he was told, pulled on the short skirt and a pair of sneakers.

Maddy frowned, “Your sandals would look better,” Drew said nothing, obeying like an automaton. “Make up," commanded Maddy, and he did it without any conscious thought or effort. “Where's your bag?”

“I don't know,” he thought for a moment, “There,” he pointed, and she retrieved the article from under the wet clothes.

“Have you tried your mobile?”

“Not since….” She handed it to him, he pushed a button and it lit up, he pushed another and her phone started to ring. “It's okay, I think.”

“Come on girls, they're expecting us in fifteen minutes, at the nick,” called Carol from downstairs.

Maddy handed Drew another bag, into which she had placed everything he would need, “You up for this?”

“I'll be okay,” he said smiling weakly.

She hugged him, “Gaby Bond, you are one tough cookie, and we all love you.” He sniffed a reply and then followed her down the stairs.

“We'll collect Harry on the way to Weymouth police HQ,” said Carol. She bustled them out of the door, “That top looks nice, Gaby, is it the one Maddy got today?”

“Yes Auntie Carol, why are we going to Weymouth, not Dorchester?”

“Because that's where they told me to take you. Thankfully it's slightly out of the centre of town, so parking won't be a problem,” she started up the car and they collected Harry as planned.

“How do you feel now? Have you got warm yet?” he asked the object of his affections.

“I'm okay, thanks. Thanks for your help earlier,” replied the wunderkind.

“What did Harry do?” asked Maddy.

“He only jumped in the lake to get my bike, after helping me out. Then he gave me a hug ‘cos I was upset," Drew blushed as he said this.

“So you got wet as well?” she said to Harry.

“A bit,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“He got as wet as I did. We both got frozen,” added Drew.

“Do you think the car tried to hurt Gaby, I mean was it deliberate?” asked Carol.

“I can't say like, for certain, but it didn't look very accidental. The pavement is quite wide like to allow for a footpath and cycle way. If they just lost control for a moment, why didn't they like stop and help?”

“How come no one got the number?” piped in Maddy.

“It was like all over so quickly. They shot off as soon as Gaby like, went in the lake. A couple of other cars stopped like, but as we were unhurt; they didn't like hanging about.”

“Pity there were no police about,” added Maddy.

“Never are when you want them,” said Harry, “least that's what my dad always says.”

They chatted for a while and Carol announced they were at the police HQ. They got through the security entrance and were led to an interview room by PC Martin. He took full statements and Drew and Harry signed them. Carol and Maddy sat with them for moral support, but said nothing.

“Are you sure neither of you were hurt?” he asked. Both the junior crime fighters said they weren't hurt. “I suspect it was deliberate, but because we have no witnesses, we won't be able to prove it. The Meadows have a four b'four, which is similar to your description, but they'll have alibis, they always do.”

“It was the Meadows' house that Cheeseman visited,” said Harry, “Gaby followed him.”

“Gaby Bond, I thought I told you to be careful, these people are very nasty and can be dangerous.”

“I'm sorry,” said Drew looking at the floor.

“You followed him?”

“Yes, he went to the house we later discovered was owned by this nasty family.”

“How many times did you go past then?” asked PC Martin.

“Three altogether.”

“They have a hidden closed circuit TV camera. They would have noticed you. It probably was them, but we'll never make it stick.”

“What would we have to do, to make it stick?” said Drew, whose anger was now greater than his fear.

“I can see why your mum is a world champion,” said Martin, “No shortage of guts there.” He mused for a moment. “I don't think it's quite as easy as that.”

“Can't I knock on the door and ask why they tried to kill me?”

“They probably wouldn't open it. Remember, they'd see you coming.”

“I'd like to get my own back,” said Drew, “It frightened the life out of me, and we both got cold and wet.”

“It was designed to frighten you,” said Martin.

“So how do I tell them it didn't?”

“Look here, young lady, no one is doubting either your brains or your beauty, and they certainly aren't questioning your courage. But please leave it to us, or you are going to get hurt, and I'd hate to see that pretty face damaged. If you want to get your own back, win that race on Sunday. I'm going to try and watch some of it.”

“So I do nothing?”

“'Fraid so.”

Drew was seething, his shock had now gone, replaced by anger, but he held his tongue. “I can't promise to win, but if Cheeseman rides, then I shall do my best to beat him.”

“Again,” added Harry, and Drew nodded.

PC Martin smiled, “That's the best way to deal with toe-rags like him, beat him in front of as many people as you can.”

“Don't worry, PC Martin, I intend to.”

“I'm glad I don't ride a bike,” he said with a chuckle, “I wouldn't like to be beaten by a slip of a girl.”

They left the police HQ and as they went down the drive towards the football ground, Carol said, “Anyone want to go anywhere?”

“I wouldn't mind some lunch, Auntie Carol,” said Drew.

“What? It's nearly six o'clock, what about you Harry, have you eaten?”

“Yes, Mrs Peters, I had a sandwich when I got home.”

“I thought you were going to the pictures?” said Carol.

“Oh shit, we need to tell William,” said Harry. Drew offered his phone and Harry called his friend to explain the latest developments.

“If it's okay, he said he'd meet us at the multiplex, in an hour.”

“Do you feel up to it, Gaby?” asked Carol.

“I'll be alright, I ‘spect,” said Drew, dreading what might happen but not feeling like rebutting Harry who had been so good in his hour of need.

“So, if I give you some money, will you be able to get something to eat before the film starts? Harry, have you told your parents where you're going?”

Gaby handed the mobile again, and Harry told his mum where he was and what he'd be doing. “She says it's okay,” so Carol dropped them all off in Weymouth, where, they decided to go for a MacDonald's and then the film.

While waiting in the foyer at the multiplex, Gaby told Harry. “I'm grateful for your help this afternoon, but I'm only here to watch the film.”

Harry, with a look of wounded innocence, replied, “But of course you are. That's like all I'm here for too.” Maddy hearing this, had to look away or she would have burst out laughing.

It was true, when she went to the cinema with Drew, all he did was watch the film and perhaps put his arm around her, sometimes she would snuggle up to him, but mostly he had little or no idea. 'Maybe he isn't that interested. If his hormones aren't kicking in - he has no body hair and his voice hasn't broken – maybe he isn't interested yet. Could he be gay, or even; is Gaby his real self? Wow, poor kid, I'm glad I know who I am.'

William arrived soon after, and with big tubs of pop-corn and some drinks, they went in to see the film. William led the way with Harry bringing up the rear, the girls sitting in the middle. Drew nearly sat next to William, but decided the message it would give to Harry, would be too hurtful. Maddy noticed what was going through his mind and sniggered, until he gave her one of his looks. He had learned that lesson very well.

Drew allowed Harry to put his arm around him, noticing that William and Maddy were similarly positioned. But each time Harry leant forward as if to kiss Gaby; Drew shoved the tub of pop-corn in the way, asking, if he wanted some. Maddy observing; nearly wet herself. It was funnier than the film.

She decided to let William kiss her, just a peck. Then she sat and waited to see what would happen next to her. Harry leant forward again, and instead of the pop-corn was allowed a peck on the cheek. Maddy felt enormous power, but she would have to see how she felt about using it.

'If Drew is gay or really Gaby, then he might enjoy a good kiss and a cuddle with Harry. If he isn't then he probably won't allow it to happen. After all he hit Clive, when he tried it on. Would he hit Harry? I doubt it, he likes him too much. But if I have a quick snog with William, will Gaby follow suit? I wonder.'

She spent the next twenty minutes watching the film, with occasional glances at Gaby and Harry. Then; as she was in mid-gulp of her diet cola; Gaby turned and pecked Harry on the cheek. Maddy, began to choke and she coughed and spluttered.

She coughed for about two minutes, her eyes running and she felt very hot. Gaby and William were quite concerned for her, both patting her back as she struggled to stop coughing.

“You okay?” asked Gaby, when she actually managed to stop the spasm.

She nodded that she was, then, “Went down the wrong way.”

Gaby nodded that she understood; then snuggled back under Harry's arm, he pecked her on the cheek and she smiled at him. Maddy was mystified, just what was going on?

She sat back and William cuddled her again, she allowed him to kiss her on the lips. Then she sat back and watched. Harry pecked Gaby on the cheek again and just as he was going in for the kill, the film ended and the lights came on. He looked irritated. Gaby pecked him on the cheek again, and said, “Thanks for the pop-corn, I enjoyed it,” she had eaten practically the whole tub. Harry didn't actually like it that much, so had very little. Maddy and William had shared theirs much more evenly.

After the film, they walked towards where Carol had agreed to collect them, near the multi-storey car park. It was a little after nine and the sky was darkening, the boys had their arms around the girls in a protective manner. As they walked towards the waiting car, Cheeseman stepped out in front of them.

“I hear you had a swimming lesson, Barbie,” he sneered at them. However, what happened next surprised them. Harry, rushed forward and swung a tremendous right hand which caught the larger boy on the jaw. He followed it with a left in the same place. Blood dribbled from his mouth. Then Harry landed two body punches to his gut area, and Cheeseman limped off away from them, calling threats but he was retreating.

“Jeez Harry, that was amazing,” said William and high-fived him.

“I'm impressed,” chuckled Gaby, and pecked him on the cheek, as did Maddy.

“He's like asked for that for a long time,” said Harry, rubbing his knuckles. Gaby took his hand and ‘kissed them better'. Maddy's eyes nearly came out on stalks.

“Was that that horrible bully?” asked Carol, as they got to the car.

“Yes,” said William, “That's Cheeseman the toe-rag, as our friendly copper called him.”

“Did I see you hit him?” Carol asked Harry.

“'Fraid so,” beamed back Harry, “he like insulted Gaby, so I thought he like earned it.”

“Did he now? Well I hope you aren't going to start a career as a fighter?”

“No, Mrs Peters, but I enjoyed showing that I was no longer scared of him,” said Harry, still beaming.

“You be careful, my boy, next time he might start the hitting or be more aware of you fighting back. He's still much bigger than you, and has some very nasty friends.”

“Yes, Mrs Peters.”

They laughed and joked all the way back, but Carol was worried. Harry had won this time, and maybe it was a good way to deal with a bully. If Cheeseman was simply a bully, it probably would be a solution. But he wasn't, he was a budding criminal and drug dealer, mixing with some very dangerous types. It concerned her, and she hoped nothing further would develop.

As they got ready for bed, Maddy asked Drew, “You were very friendly in the cinema.”

“What d'you mean?”

“Kissing and cuddling with Harry,” said Maddy, twisting the screw.

“No I wasn't, and like you can talk, I saw you snogging William.”

“Who me?” said Maddy in a high squeak.

“Yes, you, fancy snogging someone in front of your boyfriend.”

“Which boyfriend is that then?” challenged Maddy, “ ‘cos the only other people I saw there were you and Harry, and you seemed to be getting it on with him quite nicely, thank you.”

“No I wasn't, I only like pecked him on the cheek a couple of times.”

“What about kissing his hand better after he punched Cheeseman?”

“I was worried he'd like, hurt himself,” said Drew, pouting.

“What defending your honour again?”

“Yeah, like, sort of.”

“Oh, Gabs, you make me laugh. You really are like, such a girl at times.”

“Well you said to, like, enjoy the experience,” said Drew, folding his arms and huffing.

“And you seem to be doing just that. Look at yourself now.”

“What d'you mean?” he pouted.

“You are just like a girl,” said Maddy, heading for game, set and match.

“Whatever I say and do is wrong,” declared Drew, tears starting to form.

“Oh, Gabs, I like, didn't mean it like that, come ‘ere,” Maddy enveloped her cousin in one of her bear hug specials, “It wasn't a criticism like, more of a compliment.”

“It felt like a criticism,” said Drew, the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh, Gabs, it wasn't meant to be, I like, wanted to tell you how good you are at being a girl. Like a duck to water,” she hugged him some more. “You're the best girlfriend I could possibly have.”

'Gee thanks,' thought Drew. 'It does a lot for my confidence to be told as a boyfriend, that I'm her best girlfriend. How am I supposed to take that? Does she mean I don't feature as a boy anymore, does she mean she prefers me as a girl? Why does this keep happening to me? It isn't fair?' He said, however, “Thanks for the hug, I need to go to bed now.”

Maddy released him with a puzzled look on her face. He'd never escaped one of her hugs until she let him go. This was a new experience for both of them, and she didn't think she liked it. 'Was he going because he was really tired? Was this some form of rejection, and from who? Was it a response to what she had said? She felt very uncomfortable, had she provoked something she couldn't control? Oh dear.'

Drew Goes South Chapter 19 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio

Drew donned his silk nightdress and cleaned his teeth. It had been a traumatic day by anyone's standards. He was tired and feeling a little down. Maddy was at her wicked worst, winding him up with her comments about him being so girly. It was too bad, it really was. Half the time she is criticising him for being too boyish while in Gaby mode, then in the next breath, pointing out how girlish he is. What's a boy, or for that matter, a girl, supposed to do?

Deciding he couldn't win in arguments with Maddy, he would concentrate on cycling. In that, he felt capable of holding his own with anyone. But her comments hurt him and he couldn't seem to let them go.

In the cinema, she implied that he was a girl. She wasn't embarrassing him by kissing someone in front of him, because she didn't see him as her boyfriend. Then to tell him, he was her best girlfriend…well! How was he supposed to feel? Emasculated?

It wasn't the actual word which sprang to Drew's fuddled and very tired mind, but it was what he meant. There were tears in his eyes as he went to sleep, feeling very alone and very confused about himself.

He couldn't recall any funny dreams when he awoke in the night, in fact all that was in his mind was, “I must remember to oil my chain or it'll go rusty.” He wasn't really in to the mechanics of bikes, his dad or the bloke at the shop looked after that, but he did do the minimal maintenance such as oiling a chain, checking tyres and brakes. “Geez, I'm even girly about my bikes. First thing Paul did when he had a new one was take it apart, ‘cos my dad had to help his dad reassemble it. I was of very limited help; probably more than Maddy would have been, but not much more.”

He lay there holding his bunny for company, curled up in a foetal position. He was aware of the feel of the nightdress, it was warm and sleek and he liked it. So far, it seemed the only consolation for all this. He thought of his mother, so far away. He hadn't told either her or his dad about the accident. Was it deliberate? Was it an accident?

He thought it was probably the former and he felt it was likely that horrible family, the ‘Meadows'. What really choked him however, was no one saw anything and that the ratbags would get away with it. His mood was changing from depressed despair to anger. “I might be girly, but I fight like a boy.” He said to himself, “And no one gets away with trying to frighten me.” A response was called for, a declaration of war might be a suitable one. Feeling happier with himself, he dozed off to sleep again.

He awoke early, it was half past five. Time for action. He rose and dressed as quietly as he could. Then down to the garage, put some oil on the chain – ‘3in1' – it would do until he got some better synthetic stuff; then off to Weymouth. He stopped to adjust the small package he had tucked under his jumper, then off again.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived outside the Meadows' house. Quite blatantly he walked up their front path, then pulled the package from his jumper, a paint spray. Two minutes later, he'd sprayed, ‘ Drug Dealer', in large letters, on the white painted front wall of the house. Then he casually got back on his bike, ‘gave them the finger', for the purposes of the close circuit TV, and rode back to the cottage. No one had missed him, so he went back to bed.

He was well into his Zzzzs when Maddy came in to rouse him, “Come on Gabs, wake up. The police are here.”

“What….?” It took a moment to sink in…..'police'…..oh shit! “The police are here?”

“Yes, that dishy PC and his little friend.”

“What do they want?”

“To speak to you.” She held up a dressing gown for him to wear over his nightdress, and led him down the stairs. His stomach was jumping somersaults.

PC Martin gave him the stern look. Drew knew what it was about. “I hear someone did a decorating job at the Meadows' house.”

Drew said nothing, but looked at the floor. It was something he had considered could happen.

“They said it was some girl on a bicycle. They had it on close circuit TV but wouldn't release the tape. I asked if it was the same girl they tried to kill by Radipole lake, and they withdrew the complaint.” He looked hard at Drew. “I know you're angry with them, and you wanted to show them so; but it was a bloody stupid thing to do. How many times have I got to tell you, these are nasty, very nasty people. If you annoy them enough, you won't just get wet next time.”

Drew continued to look at the floor, he was very close to tears.

“It was you, wasn't it?”

“If I said it was, would you arrest me?” asked Drew, sniffing back the tears. He felt a conflict, this was an act of war, so retaliation could happen. At the same time he felt really stupid and ashamed.

“Do I need to?”

“I don't understand.”

“If we leave it at just a warning, will it happen again?”

“No.” Said Drew with fingers crossed behind his back.

“As we can't confirm the identity of the vandal, I can only say I came here to warn you about the incident. Because even if I don't believe you did it, and I'm sure someone like you wouldn't; I have to warn you keep away from the Meadows and Cheeseman.”

“Thank you for the warning,” said Drew.

The police left and Carol and Maddy took over the inquisitor's role. “Did you spray something on this house?” asked Carol.

“I might have done,” said Drew looking anywhere but Carol's face.

“Despite what the police told you yesterday.”

“I wanted them to know they didn't frighten me,” said Drew, defiantly; although his eyes were clearly tearful.

“Oh Gaby, what are we going to do with you? I wish I had your courage even if it's at times misplaced. Promise me you're not going to mess with these people again.”

“What if I don't?”

“I shall stop you racing on Sunday,” said Carol quietly but firmly. Drew, looked at her then angrily fled the room, stamping up the stairs and banging his bedroom door.

“Would you really stop him racing?” asked an astonished Maddy.

“If that's what it takes, yes I would. Gaby has acted foolishly and could have endangered herself and others in fooling about with these gangsters. It's my job to try and protect the two of you, clearly I've failed.”

“I didn't even know he'd gone out. What do you think he sprayed on the house?”

“She, Maddy. Remember it's Gaby we're discussing.” Carol gave a hard glance to Maddy who was blushing. “No I didn't know either, nor do I know what she sprayed. Given the reputation of these gangsters, I'm surprised they called the police.”

“I've noticed that people who do stupid things to others don't seem to like it when someone does it to them,” said Maddy with apparent wisdom.

“Yes, it does seem to happen that way doesn't it. I think it's because it reflects a part of you, you rather not see.”

“What are you going to do about Gaby?” asked Maddy.

“Let her stew for the moment, while I think about how I can best prevent her endangering herself.”

Upstairs, Drew was beset by alternating moods of fear and fury. He was fearful that Carol might stop him racing, and furious that she could. The only way he could really rub Cheeseman's nose in the dirt, would be by beating him again, and this time before a larger audience. This was assuming Cheeseman rode the race. However, this assumption hadn't been checked out. Everything seemed up in the air, and Drew didn't like it one bit.

Maddy entered his room with a bowl of cereal. “You may be under house arrest, but I didn't want you starting a hunger strike in protest.”

He thanked her for the food and began to eat it.

“What did you paint on the house?” she asked sitting alongside him on the bed.

“As I haven't admitted it was me...”

“But we all know it was,” said Maddy sniggering.

“It appears there is no evidence to support it.”

“What about the black paint on your hand and the can in the garage with your fingerprints all over it?”

“Okay, I confess. I dunnit copper. Get yer ‘an'cuffs,” said Drew holding out both his hands. Maddy actually fell off the bed laughing.

“You are so funny at times.”

“I sprayed, ‘Drug Dealer'.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“Probably, why?”

“Well that's like gonna piss them more than anything.”

“They started it, knocking me off my bike.”

“Gabs, be careful for goodness sake, or you are going to get hurt.”

“I only wanted to tell them, I knew it was them.”

“They probably know already.”

“They do now.”

“Anyway, mum said, ‘to get washed and dressed'; we're going out apparently.”

“Where?” asked Drew, feeling suspicious.

“Dunno, but you better wear something tidy, just in case.”

“Like what?”

“What do you think I am; your wardrobe mistress? Find something.” With that, she flounced out to dress herself.

Drew poked about in the wardrobe, pulling out the denim skirt again and a blue floral tee shirt top. Then he decided, it had better be with sandals. Quarter of an hour later, he had dressed and applied his makeup, and was styling his hair. Admittedly, it was simply curling it under at the edges, but it looked tidier. Maddy walked in as he was doing it.

“Oh, you've done it?” she almost gasped.

“Done what?” he replied.

“Your hair.”

“Well as you seem to be withdrawing services, I thought, I'd better like, have a go.”

“It looks okay,” she took the brush and ‘improved it', just to let him know she could. Then sprayed it with lacquer, “You'll do,” she said smiling at him. “Actually, it's about time you learned how to do your own hair.”

“Forget it, when we get home, Gaby is history.”

“You've still got to get through this week yet. You can have a play with mine tonight, I'll show you what to do.”

“But I don't want to. I'm not a girl.”

“Right, so who is that I can see in the mirror?” said Maddy who was standing behind him, the mirror being in front of him.

“It's an optical illusion,” he said, desperately trying to think of something with which to comeback at her.

“It looks pretty convincing to me. Ha, I like that, PRETTY convincing, geddit?” said Maddy laughing at her own joke.

“That's about as funny as plague, Mad,” said Drew as a rejoinder, hoping it would do the trick.

“Come on you two,” called Carol from downstairs.

“Where are we going?” asked Drew.

“Dunno,” replied Maddy, “but you look ready for most things.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Course, what did you think it was?”

“I wasn't sure, that's all.”

The banter stopped as they descended the stairs, and followed Carol to the car. “Have you got your bag Gaby?” she asked.

“Yes, Auntie Carol,” said Drew holding up his handbag.

“Good, I see you've brought your denim jacket as well, it might get cooler later.”

“Where are we going Auntie Carol?”

“I thought we'd go and have a trip around Stonehenge, with lunch in Salisbury.”

“Salisbury, does it have shops?” asked Maddy, her eyes gleaming.

“I should think so, it's a city.”

“So it has a cathedral?” said Drew.

“Yes, quite a famous one. Did you want to see it?”

“Don't mind,” said Drew, thinking, “beats shopping any day.”

“What about the shops?” wailed Maddy.

“There'll be time for both, I hope.”

“You hope,” said Maddy sarcastically, “I always lose out.”

“Be careful young woman, you went shopping all day yesterday. So don't push it,” said Carol very firmly. Drew had to work hard to control the snigger that wanted to erupt on his face.

They headed north towards Blandford Forum and beyond following the signs to Salisbury.

“Is Stonehenge in Salisbury, then?” asked Maddy.

“Nah, it's on Salisbury plain,” corrected Drew, the day was getting better.

“I take it this is a bit of your father's influence?” said Carol.

“We did it in history and geography a couple of years back,” smiled Drew.

“Did you bring your camera?” asked Maddy, knowing full well he hadn't.

“Damn, I forgot it. I'll have to buy a postcard or two for Dad.”

“There's a souvenir shop there, so you'll be able to find something, I'm sure.” “If it's not full of American and Japanese tourists," she thought.

They drove through the edge of Salisbury and out to a small town called, Amesbury. From here, Stonehenge is not far. The car park at the monument, is a long walk to the entrance, even though you can see the stones from the road, then a rip off entrance fee and down into the visitor centre.

Drew could see the shop had everything one could wish for regarding the ancient monument, at prices as equal a rip off as the entrance fee.

“When I came here as a student with your dad,” said Carol to Maddy, “it was free, and you could get in amongst the stones.”

“Can't you now?” asked Drew, horrified.

“'Fraid not,” said Carol, with disappointment in her voice.

“So it's stood here for like four or five thousand years, including having farmers try to knock the stones over, and they won't let us in to touch them,” said Drew in a disgusted tone.

“You got it.”

“Cor, what a bloody rip off!” said Drew.

“Gaby, please don't swear, it's common” quipped Carol.

From the visitor centre, you walk along a subway, under the road. Along its side is a sort of time line, telling a story of world history compared to the stones. They then emerged into the sunlight, and there were the stones. Along with the stones are signs telling visitors to keep to the paths, not to touch the stones, and along with the stones is an exhibit of ancient man, who sits or stands in a little glass sentry box and shouts at any visitor who seems to break the rules.

“It's smaller than I thought it would be,” said Maddy.

“Yeah, but it's still, like awesome though,” said Drew. “Those blue stones, the smaller ones, came from west Wales.”

“What along the M4?” said Maddy, mocking him.

“No by carrier pigeon, dummy.”

“Girls, please behave,” chided Carol, wishing she'd come on her own, or just with Gaby, who was slightly interested in history.

“The big ones the triathletes...” continued Drew, quoting the guidebook.

“I think you mean trilithons,” corrected Carol.

“That's what I said, didn't I?” squeaked Drew, in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I misheard you.” apologised Carol.

“Well whatever they're called, they came from Marlborough Downs, and are called Sarsen stones.”

They walked around, Gaby had managed to buy a disposable camera and did take several snaps for her dad. They also managed to get, Mr Grumpy from his glass box to take a picture of all three of them with the stones behind them.

Then back to Salisbury via the gift shop, and Old Sarum. Sarum is the site of the original town of Salisbury, which was moved in the late medieval period. It has the ruins still visible today along with a ruined castle and iron age hill fort. Drew took more pictures, and Maddy frowned ever more.

Finally they had lunch at a pizza restaurant, and while Carol and Drew went to the cathedral and the museum, Maddy went to the shops. They arranged to meet at Marks and Spencers at four o clock.

After a whistle stop tour of cathedral and museum, Carol and Drew were approaching M&S, when he said, “Thanks Auntie Carol, I've enjoyed my day out. It's a smashing place, so much to do and see.”

“I think they reckon Wiltshire has more ancient monuments than any other county, second comes Dorset.”

“When I'm older, I'd like to come touring down this way on a bike. Spend a few weeks camping and seeing all of the ancient things and places.”

“I think you could find it takes more than a few weeks, perhaps not as bad as Egypt, but there is an awful lot of antiquities around here. I mean we didn't even have time to go to Woodhenge, or Danebury or Figsbury rings. They're hill forts, and Woodhenge is a precursor to Stonehenge. On the way back we'll go through Wilton and on the hillside, they've got regimental badges carved in the chalk.

They found Maddy, who managed to find a pair of shoes, she ‘had' to have, and she had found a new skirt for Gaby, who would have to buy it himself. Drew objected on the grounds that he had enough stuff he would never wear again, but Maddy insisted and he capitulated. The skirt was a grey background with roses in pink.

“It'll go with the top I bought you yesterday. The pink is very close in colour.”

Drew agreed, and paid out the fifteen pounds, feeling pain with each note he gave to the shop assistant. He was still blushing from having tried it on in as short a time as he could. The cubicles not being very large. It fitted very well, and he had to admit Maddy had an eye for clothes for him. But, it was all such a waste. He was determined that he was going to ditch Gaby as soon as he got home; back to Warsop, that is.

“I told Gaby, we'd go back via Wilton and see the regimental badges carved into the hillside,” said Carol. Maddy was happy to do anything now she'd had her shopping fix. Drew just felt he'd been conned into buying yet another skirt. However, he put it behind him, and enjoyed the run home.

They stopped and he photographed some of the badges before his film ran out. Sadly, they weren't as clear as they might have been and the light was beginning to go.

“How about a takeaway on the way home?” asked Carol.

There was a general consensus that it was a good idea, they settled on a curry or a Chinese, whichever they saw first. It turned out to be an Indian takeaway, and they enjoyed a curry when they got back.

“I'm going to teach Gaby some basic hair care,” announced Maddy.

“So you want me to do the dishes?” said Carol.

“I'll do them,” quipped Drew, but Maddy had grabbed him and was dragging him up the stairs.

“Come on Vidal Sassoon, let's get started.”

“Aw Mad, I don't wan…”

“Come on, every girl should be able to do simple things with their hair.”

“But I'm not a…ouch, that hurt,” moaned Drew.
“Don't argue then.”

The evening of hairdressing that Drew dreaded, turned out to be much more pleasant than anticipated. Maddy played with his hair, showing him how to put it up, and how to plait it. Then he had to do it to her.

He had dreaded it for two reasons, it was a girl thing and he was in rebellion, second, he didn't think his fingers were nimble enough and Maddy would humiliate him. His rebellion ended when he found he enjoyed Maddy's fingers on his hair, and when he then realised he enjoyed touching hers.

Maddy also proved to be a good teacher, and Drew a better student than he expected to be. So in a relatively short time, he was achieving a competence beyond his expectations. That felt good.

Having got the basic idea of plaiting, he learned how to do doubles, and then a French plait. The latter, was a bit harder, but he made a reasonable effort and Maddy was pleasantly surprised.

On reflection she wasn't. “He's such a natural girl, why shouldn't he be able to pick up a bit of easy hair care? His hands are the same size as mine, so are his fingers, and I've seen him threading a needle, so I shouldn't be surprised. Maybe I should teach him to sew, then he could help me do costumes when we go to conferences.”

Had Drew known what Maddy was thinking; he wouldn't have been surprised. Disappointed perhaps, but not surprised, she had after all taught him how to dress and to some extent walk and talk, he had the rudiments of putting an outfit together; and did his own makeup. At times he felt the differences between the sexes was simply one of unfamiliarity and spin. Boys did cars and sport and made out it was a world beyond the scope of girls; who retaliated with clothes and beauty products. But it was all so superficial.

It had to be. Here he was a boy, granted not a very masculine one, in a physical appearance sense who had learned how to live like a girl for two weeks without any outsider knowing. He'd acquired some girl skills, but as well had retained the boy ones of sport, and cycling in particular. Showing to his mind at least, that girls could do sport and boys could learn make-up and dress sense.

In reality, his mother had shown him part of this already, as had many women sports champions in both the past and the present. Much of the difference seemed to be in attitude. Boys were generally louder and more aggressive than girls, but not always. This growing ‘ladette' culture of drunken teenage girls fighting in the streets, was not a pretty sight and appalled him. He agreed with equality of the sexes, not only because his mum would be disappointed in him if he didn't, but because he actually believed it. Within that framework, he also believed individuals had their own skill levels. His, was on a bike, whether he was a boy or a girl.

He sighed to himself. ”I suppose in lots of ways I'm very traditional. While in others progressive. I suppose I'm a feminist bloke!” The incongruity of that made him smile to himself, enough for Maddy to ask, ‘if he had wind?'

Drew Goes South Chapter 20 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

That night, after quite a busy day, Drew fell asleep as soon as he touched the pillow. He dreamt of cycling around Wiltshire and Dorset. He had a nice touring bike, which was well loaded with camping gear and his clothes. Maddy was with him, and her bike was similarly loaded. She wasn't as interested as he was in all the ancient monuments, but she humoured him.

“Come on Gabs, can we go a bit slower. This bike in't ‘alf ‘eavy.” She was puffing and panting as they pedalled in the sunshine. Drew could feel the sun on his body, the crop-bra top allowed lots of exposure, and he'd have to remember to rub some more sun cream on his face, arms, body and legs. This time he'd have to be careful not to get it all under his nails, which were long and painted.

They stopped for a drink, near Avebury circle. “You know Mad, I've wanted to do this ride for a few years now, but the GB women's team wouldn't release me.”

“I know Gabs, but coming second to Nicole Cooke in the road race was worth it.” He began to rub the cream on his face and arms. “Don't forget to do the top of your boobs, above your bra, or it will peel like last year.”

He awoke rubbing his chest above the neckline of his nightdress. “More cream Mad… What the hell am I doing? Geez, I'm rubbing cream on real boobs…this Gaby stuff has got to stop! I can't tell what's real and what's a dream, anymore.”

He thought for a moment. 'To come second to Nicole Cooke, would be nice, nearly as nice as having her come second to me! Now that would be good.' He smiled to himself, then suddenly thought, 'Geez, what am I thinking? I'm not a girl, I must stop thinking these things. I am not a girl.'

Sadly, modern research has shown that if you want to stop thinking about something, you phrase it differently. So Drew should have been saying to himself, “I am a boy.” Instead, what he was doing was reinforcing a negative. Consequently, upon sleeping, he had another girly dream.

This time he was in the cinema with Harry, who was sitting with his arm around him. As Harry bent forward for a kiss, Drew as Gaby, offered the popcorn only to have Harry pull it out of his hands and put it on the floor. Harry then continued his progress towards a kiss. Drew tried to push him off, but Harry was too strong. He felt Harry's breath on his face and then his lips upon his own and something strange happened; he stopped struggling and his stomach did funny things, pleasant funny things.

He woke sweating and breathless, with his pillow clasped in his arms and over his face. He threw it down and walked off to the bathroom feeling very strange emotions. Just what was happening to him?

After using the toilet, he wiped his face. It woke him up a little but he felt cooler. It also helped to distance him from his confusing dreams, about which he'd prefer not to think. Instead, he tried to reflect on his day out.

It had been a good one; he'd enjoyed Salisbury and Stonehenge, not to mention Old Sarum. He had a vague recollection of something about ‘rotten boroughs'. What was it now? Oh yes, they were corrupt parliamentary seats which had hardly anyone living in them, yet returned an MP at every election. It was back in the eighteenth century, but even so, it was very wrong.

Despite all his other foibles, Drew had an enormous sense of right and wrong, and of justice, some of which had caused him to paint attack the house that morning. Being an adolescent, also made it seem more black and white than it would become as he grew older when the world tends to appear in much more shades of grey. It had seemed unjust or plain wrong, that no one should be called to account for the attack upon him.

In view of that and the police response - to warn him off, he felt even more angry. He wanted to mount another attack, but that would anger Carol, and then his race would be under threat. He wanted to ride in that because he felt sure that Cheesecake would be riding. He would also be disappointing a few people who had said they wanted to see him ride. He fretted, it wasn't fair, but neither was life.

Thinking about his predicament, being in Gaby mode for a few more days; he'd just have to grin and bear it. It was so important that Gorgonzola was beaten by a girl, or thought he was. It would be doubly humiliating, maybe even more as it would be the second time. Drew savoured this for a few moments; it was going to be good. He then went back to bed, grabbed bunny and went off to sleep.

The first thing he knew about the morning was Maddy bouncing in and climbing into bed with him. He did not object. “Move over,” she said quietly, “Oh that's nice and warm.” She then cuddled into the back of him.

“What awegonnadotodaythen?” she said to the back of his head.

“Like; what did you say?” he said turning over on his back.

“Whatawegonnadotoday?” she rattled off as quickly again.

“Mad, will you talk English?” he said.

“What–are-we-going–to–do–to-day?” she said exaggerating the pronunciation of each word. Then giggling.

“I thought that's what you said.” he paused as if in deep contemplation, then continued, “Dunno. What d'you wanna do? Hey, that like rhymes.” It was his turn to chuckle at his own joke.

“It's nice cuddling here with my best girlfriend,” said Maddy, giving him a squeeze.

“I'd rather be your boyfriend,” he replied.

“I like you as either, but you're nicer as Gabs.”

“What do you mean, I'm nicer? I'm exactly the same … well apart from the clothes.”

“It isn't about clothes Gabs. It's like your whole being is different when you're being a girl. You aren't just a boy in skirts, you're, you know, a girl.”

“But I'm not. I'm a boy. Underneath all this nonsense,” he said poking his false breasts, “I'm still a red-blooded male.”

“Only if you remember to take the iron tablets,” giggled Maddy.

“Very funny, I don't think,” he was starting to feel irritated. He was so fond of Maddy, but she seemed to spend much of her time mocking him. Some of it was playful, and he laughed, some of it was hurtful and then he cried, or wanted to.

“Why is everyone trying to turn me into a girl? I even dream that people are doing it to me.”

“Waddya mean?” asked Madd. He then related his dreams of the night, the holiday and the episode in the cinema.

“So you came second to Nicole Cooke? Well that must have been a nice dream.”

“It was and it wasn't. If I was cycling to my full potential as a man, I should be able to beat her reasonably easily. She is good, but men cyclists are faster and stronger.”

“Yeah, so?”

“It was that I was part of the British women's team.”

“Yeah, so?” reiterated Maddy.

“So, I'd like to eventually make the men's team.”

“You'd have more chance with the women's team.”

“That isn't the point Mad. I'm not a flippin' girl, am I?”

“Well nobody's perfect,” said Maddy, dissolving into a giggle fit.

“If you're going to be silly, I'm getting up,” he was angry but defeated, there were tears in his eyes as he rose from the bed and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he saw a tearful girl looking back. That was when he started to cry, hating himself for being so girly as to cry, yet he couldn't stop.

Sometime later, he wasn't sure how much later, Carol knocked on the bathroom door. “Gaby, are you okay in there?” It seemed to break his trance of misery.

“Yeah, Auntie Carol, I'm just going to have a shower.”

“Well don't take too long kiddo, I'll make some fresh tea.”

“Yeah, okay.” He drew off the nightdress and saw an even more female-looking figure in the mirror. He shrugged despondently and got in the shower. He felt quite down.

After his shower, which refreshed him a little, he dressed in shorts and tee shirt, then went for some breakfast. Maddy was now in the vacant bathroom. “What's the matter Gaby?” asked Carol placing a mug of tea on the table.

“Nothing,” he replied reaching for the tea.

“When you spend half an hour in the bathroom crying, there has to be something wrong.”

“I didn't did I?” he asked astonished.

“Nearly, so what's the problem?”

“It's nothing, honest,” he insisted.

“If it's so little, then you can tell me about it, can't you?”

“Maybe, I'm like Maddy is, before her, you know what?”

Carol smiled broadly, “Gaby I know you make a very pretty girl, but if you start having periods, you'll make the Guinness Book of Records.”

“I didn't mean that, I meant just I feel down for no obvious reasons. I feel weepy, for no reason. That's all.”

“So it's your hormones, is it?” asked Carol, almost mockingly, because it was absurd to her, but something held her back. This child was almost more girl than boy, so was it so outlandish that his body could be having hormone fluctuations? Maybe it wasn't so crazy. “Do you get any other symptoms?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Pains in your tummy, swellings there or in your breasts, tenderness, that sort of thing?”

“I don't know, sometimes my tummy and my chest feels a bit swollen, well more sort of tight and tender.”

“Have you spoken to your mother about it?”

“No.”

“And you get some mood swings?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you noticed how often it happens? Is it regular or spasmodic?”

“I haven't noticed.”

“Well can you make a note of it from now on?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I'm serious, Gaby, please do this for me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Breakfast?”

“Just some cereal, I'm not that hungry.” As Drew said this, Carol began to wonder if he was starting some illness.

“You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah, I'll be okay.”

She walked around to him and gave him a hug. “Gaby Bond, you are one of the nicest kids I know,” she said as she held him, which started him sniffing again.

“Is this a private hug or can anyone join?” piped a voice from outside them. It was Maddy standing in the doorway. “Well?” she stood with her hands on her hips.

“Gaby and I were just having a little hug. You can join if you want to.”

“ ‘Kay,” answered Maddy, throwing her arms around both Drew and her mother. They stayed holding each other for a couple of minutes, when Maddy asked, “So, what we doin' today?”

“There was no verb in that sentence,” scolded Carol.

“Wha …” replied Maddy, making faces at Drew.

“Please speak properly; honestly, Gaby, I spend hours trying to teach her to speak properly and she sounds like something from the cat's home.”

“Snob,” replied Maddy, making more faces.

“It isn't snobbery at all, I'm just trying to bring you up properly. Who knows where life might take you and speaking properly will stand you in good stead.”

“Yeah, yeah …” cheeked Maddy.

“You are not too old for me to warm your bottom, young lady,” warned Carol.

“Can we talk about something else?” said Drew trying to diffuse the situation, “Like what we are going to do, today?”

“We could go to Wells, or even Bath,” said Carol.

“I've already ‘ad a shower, don't need no bath,” said Maddy deliberately trying to windup her mother.

“It's a bit late for Bath, we could get the train there from Dorchester, but it takes a couple of hours, maybe another day before we leave. Wells is pretty. It has a lovely cathedral, one of the most beautiful in England although it's relatively small.”

“That makes it a city, right?” asked Maddy.

“Yes, it's a city, albeit a small one.”

“So they have shops, right?”

“Madeleine Peters, there is more to life than shopping.”

“There is? I demand a recount.”

“Do you think I am made of money?”

“No, but Daddy is,” she quipped back.

“I'll tell him that, he'll stop your allowance.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don't push it, girl,” snapped Carol wagging her finger at Maddy.

“Are we going to Wells then?” said Drew, interrupting the conflict, “I quite fancy that. According to the atlas, Wookey Hole caves are nearby, can we go there Auntie Carol?”

“I don't see why not,” so they did.

They drove to Wells, visited the cathedral which impressed Drew quite favourably. He loved the mechanical clock with its jousting knights. He asked if the ‘scissor arch' was modern because it looked so. He was surprised to learn it was medieval, the tower starting to sink while they were still building it.

Maddy had an hour to flit around the shops, so she was happy too. Lunch followed, then off to the caves.

They'd been to caves before, so while they were interesting it was nothing new. The complex has an exhibition of paper making, and they had a go at making some rag paper. Drew bought some for his mum, then maybe she'd write him the odd letter.

They got back early enough for Drew to go for a training run while Carol prepared the evening meal. Maddy was undecided what to do, and Drew seemed uninterested in having her with him. She wondered if he was deliberately avoiding her, or if he needed time to himself. She decided to believe the latter, which was probably true.

He set off with a good hours' work in mind. He would avoid Weymouth altogether, then he would be less likely to encounter Cheeseman or ‘ The Addams Family'. He decided he'd keep an eye on the odometer and when it came up twelve miles he'd head back.

He rode round the Dorchester by-pass, and off to the west towards Bridport, turning south towards Abbotsbury and then at Portesham, he turned back up over the ridgeway and the steep ascent north towards Dorchester.

While climbing the hill, which he found harder on his own bike than the carbon one, he overtook a couple of mountain bikers pushing their bikes, who cheered him on as he went by. One of them shouted, “engine failure,” and laughed, but so intent was he on his cadence to beat this hill, that he didn't hear them.

At the top, his lungs were heaving and his legs aching, but he got there. A nasty climb, but he did it, and he allowed his sweaty body to relax a little while later as he cruised down the other side. The adrenalin had flowed, and he was up for anything.

Following his nose, he came past Hardy's monument (Admiral Thomas Hardy, Nelson's flag captain), down into Winterbourne St Martin when he turned left and up another smaller hill back to the main A35 at a spot known locally as ‘ monkey's jump'. He caught the waft of the exhaust fumes from a certain well-known fast food establishment, and decided he didn't fancy one at all. In fact, it might put him off burgers for some time.

He continued on down the bypass towards the A37, where he turned right and on into Dorchester, with a ‘steeper than it looks' approach to a crossroads called, ‘Top o' Town', here he turned left, and went down the old A35, High West and High East Streets, passing the County Museum where the streets change from one to the other, and where they'd listened to the lecture on Maiden Castle.

He'd been able to see Maiden Castle from several of the higher vantage points, and he felt happy that he knew roughly where he was most of the time. With the hour now approaching, he'd forgotten about his original plan, he saw he'd completed his usual twenty-five miles and still had two or three to go.

Following the now London Road, as High East Street becomes, he went to the easternmost end of the bypass and went down it, turning off at the intersection for Wareham. This is quite a steep turn-off, and he dropped a couple of gears, as he completed the rise up to the Wareham Road.

Some twenty minutes later, he arrived back at the cottage. He was tired, sweaty and smelly but happy. He'd been doing what he did best, cycling with one hundred per cent effort. He completed thirty-two miles, with several hills and at an average speed of over twenty miles an hour. He felt quite pleased with himself. “Bring on Nicole,” he said to himself, as he put the bike away.

A quick shower and he became socially more acceptable. While Carol dished up her cottage pie and various vegetables, Drew showed Maddy where on the map, he'd ridden. She was impressed.

He'd thrown on shorts and tee shirt, but after eating she made him change into a skirt and top, before styling his still damp hair, she explained they were going to William's house for a ‘social'

“Which means what exactly?” he asked Maddy.

“Oh time for a quick snog and grope with Will, while you play with Harry in the bushes, and Mum gets squiffy on the home made plonk.”

“While I play what with Harry in the bushes?” he was watching her reflection in the mirror as she stood behind him.

“If you don't know, Gabs, perhaps it's time you found out,” smiled Maddy from behind him.

“I beg your pardon?” he said looking vexed.

“Granted,” she replied, smiling broadly.

“I'm not sure I should be talking about watching you and William, like getting it together,” he blushed.

“Why not, it's what girlfriends do with each other. Talk about boys and clothes and makeup. Talking of which, you need to do yours again.”

“But I keep telling you, I'm not a … ouch, careful, Mad, you're pulling it out at the roots.”

“We've had this conversation before, according to the rules, you are in Gaby mode for the duration of this holiday. I therefore treat you as a girl, and a real girl not some trans … whatever they call ‘em.”

“But it's not my fault....”

“I don't make the rules, I just keep to them. I suggest you do the same.”

“What do you mean, like neck with Harry? yuck.”

“Do whatever you think Gaby as a real girl would do in the circumstances. If that means kissing Harry, then do it. Neither you nor he will turn into frogs.”

“But I'm not … ouch, stop doing that will you?”

“For the moment, as far as I'm concerned, you are whether you like it or not, Harry obviously agrees with me, because he phoned to say he'd walk you over to William's house.”

“Oh no, he didn't did he?” Drew looked horrified.

“I didn't just make it up. As soon as he knew we'd be walking through the village, he offered to escort you.” Maddy looked at Drew's reflection growing redder in the mirror. “Actually, I think it's rather sweet, he's obviously completely gone on you.”

“Can't you tell him I've got plague, or something?”

“Which miraculously cures itself by the weekend?”

“Yeah, 24-hour plague, that's it,” said Drew clutching at straws.

“24-hour plague, don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing.”

“I could be the first to ever have caught it.”

“Why don't I just tell him you're pregnant?”

“What?”

“You heard me, shove a cushion up your jumper ‘n' I'll tell him you're up the duff.”

“How can I be pregnant? Be sensible.”

“Maybe, the same bloke you caught plague from gave you one for luck.”

“Maddy Peters, I cannot believe you at times."

“Try looking in the mirror kiddo, and while you do, put your makeup on,” she uttered her instructions and left the room.

Drew surveyed his appearance, his hair was up, frothing over the band which held it. Even without makeup, he looked female. Resigned to his fate, he sighed and began the application of cosmetics to make his features even more feminine.

As he finished Maddy reappeared and squirted him with perfume, “Cor Mad,” he spluttered, “I'll smell like a tart's nightdress.”

“I wouldn't know,” she retorted holding her nose up in the air, breaking into giggles as she left the room, “Better hope, Harry doesn't either or he might really get your number.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” called Drew to her vanishing shadow.

“Think about it,” was all she said, followed by more giggles.

Drew Goes South Chapter 21 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

Drew managed to drag himself away from the mirror, at times he looked more like Maddy, than ... Maddy, and as she always looked like Maddy, probably because she was Maddy, it took some doing. Well, he understood what was going around in his head, not. He felt very confused about himself, or who he was, or had been or would be. Damn! Things were complicated.

He stopped and talked to the Maddy he could see in the mirror, who just happened to be wearing the same clothes as he was, and whose mouth moved when his did, some coincidence.

“Look here, Mad, “ he began, “I'm a boy, not a girl. So I'm not kissing anyone except you, or other girls. There, I've said it, like.” Having rehearsed it he felt more confident in saying it to the real thing, his cousin. He felt nervous, but why? He didn't know. He did know she would have some smart-ass reply which would put him on his back foot again, after which, she would run further rings about him.

He caught up with her in the hallway. “Look Mad ….” The doorbell rang and she turned to answer it. They both knew who it would be. They were both correct.

“Hello Harry,” said Maddy, pecking him on the cheek, Drew felt his stomach winding up like a clockwork spring, which then unwound more rapidly, flipping over as it went. He would have been pleased to assure you this was not a girl's anticipation of a kiss from her loved one, but dread of a boy about to be kissed by another boy.

“Hello, Gaby, “ said Harry, producing a bunch of flowers and shoving them in Drew's hands.

“Thank you, Harry,” replied a shy Drew, looking at the floor and blushing brighter than a fire engine.

“Well aren't you going to give him a proper thank you?” quipped Maddy, smirking. Thoughts of murder briefly ran through Drew's mind.

Drew, holding the flowers as a barrier between them, sort of stood on his toes and leaning over the flowers, pecked Harry on the cheek. “Thank you, Harry.”

At this point Maddy approached and snatched the flowers from his hands, “Here, give me those. I'll go and put them in water while you give him a proper kiss.” She walked out to the kitchen with difficulty, as her body convulsed with silent laughter. She loved Drew, but sometimes the sitting duck was irresistible.

She placed the flowers in a bucket with some water, “Gabs, I've just put them in a bucket of water. I know how much you enjoy arranging them.”

Drew's mouth gaped as she said this. “I do?” Then as his brain caught up with his mouth he said, “ I do. Thanks, Mad, I'll look forward to that when we get home.”

“Did she give you a proper kiss this time?” asked Maddy of Harry. He shook his head. “Gaby Bond, you cheapskate. Give him a proper kiss, this minute.” When Drew closed his eyes as if about to perform some unpleasant task, Maddy continued, “Kiss him like you've been practising on ‘Bunny'.”

Murder was not going to be enough, he was going to kill her, then resuscitate her and do it again. After all, he could only be convicted of the one offence.

He puckered his lips and suddenly felt strong arms grab him and lips pressed against his own. He was momentarily paralysed with shock, by which time Carol had entered and Harry released him.

“Sorry to interrupt kids. Gaby, go and straighten your lip gloss. Maddy stop sniggering. Have you got your bags, girls? Come on, let's get a move on.”

They eventually set off down the road, with Harry protectively holding a subdued Drew, around the waist. Maddy walked behind with her mother, trying not to giggle. Carol engaged her in superficial conversation, but both were watching the pair in front.

Carol had interrupted Gaby and Harry tongue wrestling, both seemed to be enjoying it. Was Drew gay? Or was he simply so rapt in his Gaby role, that he couldn't help himself? Either way, it was a little worrying. She looked at Maddy, well aware that her daughter was quite capable of setting Drew up. She loved Maddy with all her heart, but she was under no illusions about teenage girls. Although it was few years ago, she could still remember how she and her friends had roamed in packs picking on defenceless boys and humiliating them.

Like Maddy, some of her friends were beautiful, but that beauty disguised the ruthless efficiency of an assassin. At the same time, the thought struck her,'that Gaby and Harry, looked like a well-matched young couple, given they were only thirteen and fourteen, respectively.'

Was she going crazy? The young couple were two boys, but without a full body examination, no one would ever know it. She looked hard at Maddy, just to make sure it was Gaby who was in front and Maddy at her side.

A moment of panic crossed her mind, could she actually tell who was who? They looked so similar at times. To make sure, she stopped Maddy and pretended to take a thread off her skirt. She felt relieved. Drew had a small scar on his knees where he fell off his bike, it wasn't there. Maddy was definitely Maddy.

Sadly, this simply confirmed her concerns about Drew, as part of the courting couple ahead of them. He was acting so like a girl, giggling at whatever Harry was saying as they walked in unison. It was frightening. She would have to talk to Jenny when they had a chance to get together.

As Harry led the way into the Bugler's driveway, the smell of a barbecue assailed their nostrils. “Hi Maddy, Gaby, Harry, Mrs Peters,” called William as they approached the door, “Come on round to the back garden, Dad's doing some cremating.”

“You cheeky young whippersnapper,” accused his father, “Hello, Carol, girls, Harry. Glad you could come or I'm going to be eating this stuff for the rest of the summer.”

“Hello Carol,” said Joyce Bugler as the two women touched cheeks and air-kissed. Drew was fascinated, he watched Maddy do the same, then it was his turn. Like a zombie in a deep trance, he touched his cheek against Joyce's, gently embracing her and made a kissing noise. It was so civilised compared to Harry trying to suck his tonsils out.

Perhaps it wasn't as civilised as two men shaking hands, or better still as they did these days, just raise a hand or even a nod as each said, ' ‘right mate?' Now that was civilised and hygienic. When he'd been sent to tidy up his makeup he cleaned his teeth and scrubbed his lips, just in case. Well, who knows where Harry had had his mouth. He could have been doing CPR on a sheep for all he knew. These country types were capable of anything. Then he realised he lived in a village about the same size as this one, oops.

“Gaby,” he was jolted back from his reverie, “do you want a burger or a hot dog?” Harry was holding out both to him.

“I don't mind, which do you want?” he replied.

“I don't mind either, you have which you want.”

'This could go on all night,' thought Drew, “Okay, I'll have the burger.” He rationalised it was thinner than the sausage and more likely cooked thoroughly. He didn't want food poisoning, and especially before this race on Sunday. He needed to be at full strength for it.

He munched on the burger in a sesame seed topped roll. To his pleasant surprise, it was actually quite tasty, better than the ones they'd had at a school barbeque, they were dire.

“These are very nice Mr Bugler,” he said to William's dad.

“Don't look so surprised young woman, they are Marks & Spencers'. We don't have rubbish at our barbies.”

“Oh right, that explains it then,” replied Drew, deciding he'd definitely be having a second.

“Hello Margaret, Simon.” Called Geoff Bugler to two new arrivals, “Harry's over here with the love of his life.” Drew momentarily shuddered as he heard this.

“Look out, it's my mum and dad,” Harry whispered to Drew. Then pulling him towards his parents he said, “Mum, Dad, this is Gaby. Isn't she a cracker?”

“Pleased to meet you,” they both said and shook hands.

Simon Palmer, went off to talk with Geoff, and get them drinks, while Margaret stayed to talk with Drew. “So at last I get to meet the wonder girl,” said Margaret, making Drew want to run away.

“I've heard so much about you. Something of a champion on a bicycle?”

Drew was trying to clear his throat of the piece of burger bun which had lodged there. Seeing the problem, William appeared with a drink, which Drew gratefully accepted.

“Oh Mum, you're embarrassing her. Come and see her on Sunday, then you'll understand what I've been saying. She is absolutely brill in a bike.”

“Is there a race or something on Sunday?” asked his mother innocently.

“Get with it Mum, I've been telling you about it for days. This is the one they tried to kill at Radipole.”

“Oh, so you're the one who's been leading my son astray, “ she said winking at William.

“I … no,” spluttered, Drew.

“Only joking, my dear,” laughed Margaret, and Drew decided she'd be number two on his list after Maddy. He would need to dig two holes.

Harry took his mother to one side, “Mum, I'm serious. The Meadows tried to kill us; well, Gaby, along Radipole Park Drive. They drove us off the road, which was why I got soaking wet that day.”

“Seriously? I thought you were just larking about dear,” said Margaret, her expression changing.

“M…u…u…m!” exclaimed an exasperated Harry, “Do I normally come home with tales of people trying to kill me?”

“No dear, come to think of it you don't.”

Harry stood shaking his head at her. Obviously, this news didn't fit her plan of the universe, it would take some assimilation.

“Gaby, tell her it's true, that Meadows tried to kill you,” urged Harry.

“We think it was the Meadows who tried to run us off the bike path by the lake.”

“Did you complain to the police?” asked Margaret, still assimilating this alien concept. Fairies at the bottom of her garden were more likely in her world than ruffians and attempted murder.

“Yeah, for all it was worth, but PC Martin did tell us he accused them of it, so they withdrew the charges for my paint job,” said Drew blithely.

“Paint job? Did you do a painting then, young lady?”

“Sort of,” Gaby blushed, realising it wasn't the wisest disclosure of the week.

“You must show it to me. I used to teach art at the local college,” said Margaret beaming at them.

Realising his mother would not approve of graffiti, especially the malicious type, Harry steered the conversation towards calmer waters. “Dad said, I could have a new bike for Christmas. I want a road racer and I'm going to join a club.”

“Good idea,” agreed Drew, feeling the relief as Margaret's expression turned to one of polite disinterest.

“Lovely dear,” she said, then looking for rescue she spotted Joyce, and called to her, “Joyce, my dear, your garden is looking simply splendid,” she then moved towards her next quarry.

As soon as she was beyond earshot, Maddy asked, “Harry, is your mother for, like, real?”

“'Fraid so, don't you know, old bean?” he said lightly mocking her. She can't help it, she went to Sherborne Girl's School, and Cheltenham Ladies College.”

“Is that, like a posh school?” asked Drew, almost feeling sorry for his would-be suitor.

“Isn't it just. Only Roedean is probably dearer as girl's public schools go,” replied Harry.

“Why do they call ‘em public schools?” asked a bemused Drew, “Most of the public couldn't afford to go to ‘em if they wanted to.”

“It goes back hundreds of years,” said William, “we did it in history. It's something to do with some of the earliest schools either being run by the church and later by the professional guilds. So only the children of influential people got to go to school. The rest were made to work up chimneys or down mines, or on the land. Most people were illiterate, in those days. The public schools were open to the public if they could pay the fees, so you didn't have to be in one of the guilds or be in the church.”

“Wow,” said Drew, “Just think, if we'd been born a couple of hundred years ago, we wouldn't have to go to school.”

“No, they'd have stuck you up someone's chimney,” laughed Maddy. “Just pray you didn't meet Father Christmas coming down.”

“It would've saved him time delivering his prezzies,” quipped Drew.

“Apparently, lots of kids died from the toxic chemicals in the soot, plus they would fall. Nasty employers would light fires underneath to hurry them up.”

“I don't think anyone could get up our chimney,” said Maddy, it used to puzzle me how Father Christmas used to get down it…”

“Especially when you had a gas fire fitted,” interrupted Drew, noisily.

“It was Lord Shaftesbury who stopped it all,” contributed Harry.

“What, like Shaftesbury, up the road?” Asked Drew.

“Yeah, the Ashley-Coopers, are the Earls of Shaftesbury, and the first one helped to stop the exploitation of children.”

“Gosh,” said an impressed Drew, “You seem to have lots of important historical people round here.”

“Yeah, we do. Shaftesbury was an abolitionist too,” said William.

“What do you mean, getting rid of unborn babies?” asked Drew.

“No that's abortion, abolitionists supported the abolition of slavery.”

“Did they have slaves here too then?” asked an astonished Drew, “I mean years ago, like.”

“Course they did, Weymouth and Bristol did a lot of trade in African slaves, but in those days, Bristol was the second largest city in England.”

“What, bigger than Manchester or Sheffield?” queried Drew.

“Yes, it was known as England's, Second City.”

“Cor,” said Drew, “and you didn't go to public school, either.”

“No, but years ago, Hardye's School was a fee-paying one.”

“What, like you had to pay to go there?” said Drew.

“Yeah. It used to have boarders too.”

“What like fences and things?”

“No, silly, like board and lodgings.”

“I never understood the board bit,” confessed Drew, he was on a steep learning curve.

“It meant table, as in food. You know like when you go on holiday, you get full or half board,” explained William to his group of ‘students'.

“We usually go camping,” replied Drew, “an' the board then is one of the beds in our camper. It's like sleeping on a concrete floor,” he winced as he said it.

“I hope the beds in the cottage are better than that,” chipped in Harry, feeling that William had dominated the conversation long enough.

“They're fine,” added Maddy, feeling similarly excluded, and plotting how she could wind Drew up some more. “In fact, Gaby's and mine are big enough for two.” She watched the boys' eyes light up, and Drew took a deep breath of discomfort, “Isn't that right Gabs? You could sleep Harry in it as well as you?”

Drew shifted both his feet and his gaze uncomfortably, he was going to need some nice soft ground to dig those holes. “Like Aunty Carol would allow it,” he replied indignantly.

“I'm sure she'd consider it if you were to ask her nicely,” said Maddy sweetly.

“Yeah well, I'm not, she'd like, kill me," snapped back Drew.

“Who would kill you?” asked Carol, looking bemused.

“Oh, hi Aunty Carol,” said Drew feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Who would kill you ?” Carol repeated.

“Oh nobody, Aunt Carol, it's some girl in school, in the cheer team. It's nothing.” Drew blushed, and looking around guiltily saw Maddy blushing and smirking as she fidgeted uncomfortably.

“I hope you girls are behaving yourselves,” said Carol, firmly.

“Yes, Mum,” said Maddy quietly.

“Carol, come and try this peach and apple wine,” called Joyce, “Margaret are you coming too?” With that, the three women disappeared into the house.

“Phew,” sighed Maddy, “that was close.”

They all laughed embarrassedly. “Want another burger, Gaby?” said Harry, breaking the mood.

“Um, yeah okay,” replied Drew, “can I 'ave some mustard this time?”

Harry went off towards where the two men were talking and cooking at the barbecue, followed by William who was waiting on Maddy, she looked at Drew, and mimed, “Sorry.”

“I should think so, too,” he hissed back. Then after they exchanged a further furtive glance, they both began to giggle and were practically helpless when the boys returned with their snacks.

The evening continued in this vein, and a rather tiddly Carol, escorted by Drew, Maddy and Harry eventually walked back to their cottage.

“Itsh been a wuvverly evening, hashn't it girlsh?” slurred Carol, chuckling to herself.

“Mother, you are drunk,” exclaimed Maddy in mock disgust. Drew and Harry had to look away or would have collapsed with laughter.

“Madel … Mad … oh never mind, maybe I am jusht a bit. Oops, ha ha ha,” responded Carol as best she could, stumbling over the threshold. Harry waited while Maddy and Drew dragged and pulled Carol up the stairs and dumped her into her room. Then Drew made a tactical withdrawal while Maddy undressed her mother and tucked her into bed.

When she had finished, Drew and Harry were standing at the door talking. “Hi, guys,” she said as she approached them. “Well, I hate to break up a beautiful relationship, but I think it's bedtime unless you do want to find out if Gaby's bed is big enough…?”

“I think I'd better go, perhaps another night,” before Drew knew what was happening, Harry had grabbed him and kissed him quickly on the mouth. Once again, he was paralysed with shock and the feelings of disgust, helplessness and something else he couldn't identify, but it was a strange feeling somewhere in his tummy. The strange thing was, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. He felt even more confused.

He waved as Harry walked down the path.

“Well, girl, you nearly pulled there,” quipped Maddy, chuckling wickedly but staying just out of range of a quick slap.

“If you set me up again Maddy Peters, so help me, I'll….” he said as he chased her up the stairs until she shut herself in the bathroom.

He strolled into his own bedroom, and looking at himself in the mirror, he posed with his hands on his hips making what he considered ‘smouldering' or sexy expressions to the mirror. He stopped as if thunderstruck, when he heard Maddy giggle,

“Practicing strutting your stuff; eh girl?”

He stood feeling ashamed and very silly, as the mocking laughter tailed off from the direction of Maddy's room.

Drew Goes South Chapter 22 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

It proved to be another restless night for our hero. Part of him considered Maddy had every right to make fun of him if he was behaving less than sensibly. The dilemma was, part of him did not believe he had acted anything other than sensibly.

It was one of those things when you could be right and wrong at the same time. Maddy could consider he was being silly, mock him and his sense of guilt and vulnerability would do the rest. However, earlier she had told him when he was dressed as a girl, as far as she was concerned he was female.

Looking at it from this perspective, he was exploring something. Harry thought he was attractive without his trying to be so. Therefore, what would happen if he tried to be an attractive girl? Hence the poses.

He tossed and turned cuddling bunny, to whom he confided his thoughts. They were a little confused to say the least. He felt very guilty and very vulnerable, which Maddy homed in on in a microsecond. Part of him knew he should feel neither of these things, except perhaps for deceiving Harry and the others.

Part of him felt exhilarated. Boys were easily led by a pretty girl. As a boy, Drew was small and girlish looking. With his high voice and delicate bone structure, narrow shoulders, small waist and broadening hips he was not imposing in a masculine way. Not until he got on a bike when he proved he was fearless and tenacious did he resemble any of the usually accepted, positive masculine attributes, then he was like a terrier.

He was well aware of his guts and sticking power, they had won him races and even a championship. He knew his mother had them too, so they weren't restricted to men or even boys, but women had them as well. He recognised the stereotyping was wrong, admirable qualities were admirable, period. It mattered not if they occurred in men or women.

He finally managed some sleep while thinking about this more positive philosophy, he had some admirable qualities whether he was being a boy or a girl. It gave him some crumbs of comfort. He didn't of course think about how cruel teenagers can be to each other, without there necessarily being any malice aforethought. Sadly, Maddy seemed to be in this mode, though she wasn't really aware of it.

She lay in bed thinking for a while about what she had seen as she passed Drew's room. “What's he up to with the sultry expressions? No that should be what's she up to? Gaby seems to be enjoying herself with Harry, practising her come hither look. I know that deep inside there is a boy, or used to be one: the point is, is there one there now?

Maddy suddenly felt a pang of loss and a strange discomfort in her solar plexus area. “What happens if Drew doesn't come back? Oh God, what do I do? I mean, I like Gaby, she's a great girlfriend and we can do things together, even play a few pranks on each other. Well, I like, seem to play more on her, but I'll miss Drew, ‘cos I like, love him.”

She spent a disturbed night too. At one point she had a peculiar dream. Gaby had come to her…”Hi Mad I need to ask you a favour.” Maddy looked at her best friend, she looked fit and healthy and with a figure to die for. No more breast forms, she was smaller in the bust than Maddy, as well as in the waist and hips. Maddy still cycled a bit, but Gaby was on the British women's team and didn't have much fat anywhere.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Maddy.

“Well, it's not just me. It includes Harry as well,” said Gaby, blushing slightly.

“Yeah, okay, what do you both want me to do?”

“Harry's popped the question, and I want you to be my bridesmaid. Well, we both want you to. William's gonna be the best man.”

“Yeah, course I will,” replied Maddy without much thought, congratulating her best friend on her engagement, and oohing and aahing over the ring Gaby had on her finger, and which had been hidden behind her back.

The scene shifted to a church, and Gaby and Harry were standing at the altar about to take their vows. She looked resplendent in a lacy wedding dress. Maddy was wearing a deep pink bridesmaid's dress. She felt happy for the couple standing before her.

However, there was something nagging inside her. A growing sense of pain, which seemed to spread from her heart to her whole body. Then as the woman priest got the part, “If anyone knows of any just cause or pediment why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them declare it now or forever hold their peace.” Maddy felt herself, scream…”No, he's a boy, he's my boyfriend…”

She woke up with Carol, holding her, “It's alright Maddy, it's just a bad dream. Hush now, it's alright.” Maddy felt tears running down her face.

“It was horrible Mummy, it was horrible,” she said sobbing into her mother's breast.

“It's okay now, honey,” cooed Carol as she gently rubbed her back.

“Is there a problem?” said a sleepy voice from the doorway.

“No it's alright Gaby, you go back to bed. Maddy just had a bad dream, that's all.”

“ ‘Kay. Night,” and footsteps receded followed by a door closing.

Maddy eventually went back to sleep, and Carol went back to nurse her hangover. She would speak with Maddy after breakfast, to see what the dream was about. Maddy didn't seem to have too many of them, and her mother had noticed they tended to coincide with her period. Carol tried to think if Maddy was due, but in her post-alcohol muddle, she couldn't remember. She had a drink of water and a couple of paracetamol and hoped the pounding in her head would be gone by morning.

“What happened last night?” asked Drew at breakfast.

“I had a bad dream,” said Maddy to her cornflakes, refusing eye contact with him.

“What sort?” probed a curious Drew.

“A monster was going to eat me, or something.”

“What d'you mean or something? Either he was going to eat you or not.”

“Does it really matter?” she replied glaring at him, at the same time feeling guilty about it.

“Sorry, I was just trying to help.” He placed his bowl in the kitchen sink and went to the toaster. “Do you want any toast, or would you rather bite my head off?”

“I'm sorry,” she said, “It's just I don't want to like, talk about it. It was too scary.” She felt a tear drip down her cheek.

“Fine,” he said, his back to her as he loaded the toaster. “One piece or two?” By the time he'd brought the fresh toast, she had calmed herself down and managed a smile at him.

“You bin crying?” he asked her.

“No, I just yawned,” she lied.

She looked at him as he ate his toast. He still tended to bolt his food more like a boy than a girl. Yesterday that would have annoyed her, today it felt good. But that apart, he looked, sounded and acted like a girl, a very pretty girl. She felt very confused.

“So what we doin' today then?” he asked her.

“Dunno, what d'you wanna do?”

“Dunno. I'm racin' tomorrow, so maybe I'd better call the guys at the shop check everythin' ‘sokay. Might do a short ride today, but otherwise… don' care.”

“So we could go shopping?” she suggested, although her question was a test. If he was still really a boy, he would object if he was becoming more girl than boy, he'd agree. That was how she saw it. Unfortunately, she didn't take into account that he might agree because he was concerned for her. Which was what happened.

“Okay, as long as I have time for a short ride, and provided the boys don't need me to go there.”

“Fine, I'll tell Mum, while you ring Matt.”

Drew went off to the phone, silently berating himself for not saying no. Then he thought, “We'll be on the way home in a couple of days, why worry? Then I can get something off my chest.” He chuckled to himself as he thought about his unconscious humour.

“Hi Matt, it's Gaby. Is there anything we need to discuss before tomorrow? It starts at the Pavilion. Okay, yeah, I know where that is. Be there at nine, starts at ten. Okay, that's fine. Do we have the route yet? You'll have the map. Fine. Call by for a new strip, am I not using the previous one?” He paused as he heard the reply, “Wow, ‘Team Specialized', they're red and white, aren't they? Yeah, I thought so. Okay, I'll see you later, then," he replaced the handset and punched the air.

He was going to be wearing his first sponsored, well, properly sponsored kit and they were skins. The American company had decided to sponsor his ride even before they'd signed a contract. It felt good. He rushed to tell Maddy.

“Mad, we've gotta call by the shop. Specialized are providing me with some of their team stuff. My first sponsored skins,” he raised his hands in triumph.

“I didn't think you'd signed a contract yet unless Jenny's done it for you,” said Carol.

“Don't forget they think they've signed a girl,” said Maddy in a very circumspect manner.

“Don't be, like, happy for me,” said the crestfallen youth.

“If it's what you want…” said Maddy sniffing a little.

“You gotta cold or something?” he asked her.

“No, I'm okay. I'm really okay…" she said then burst into tears, and rushed from the room.

Drew went to follow when Carol stopped him. “Gaby, just let her go, she's on her period.”

“Oh,” he said, and not wanting to be involved in anything to do with such alien territory, he sat down and fidgeted.

“Why don't you go and dress?” Carol said to him, trying to give him something to do.

“Are we going shopping?” he asked, and she nodded a response. “So something tidy?” she smiled and nodded, “and makeup?” she nodded again. “Okay, we can still call by the bike shop, though?”

“Of course, we can Gaby. We also have to return those other bikes to Dorchester.”

“Oh yeah, I'll go and dress.”

He went up to his room, and brushed his still damp hair into a simple style, he was getting better at it, but he had very little confidence in that department. He'd applied mousse, and he blow-dried it with Maddy's dryer. He pulled on the denim skirt and the pink silk top. It felt comfortable, and it felt good too, he recalled it was a present from Mad, she'd enjoy seeing him wear it.

He sat in front of the mirror on the dressing table and applied some eyeliner above and below his eyes; the latter a thin line under the lower eyelid. Then mascara applied with unconscious skill, some blusher and finally, some lip gloss. A spritz of smellies, the watch, bracelet and earrings and he was ready. He stood up and checked himself in the mirror, turning around to check his back. He looked okay, well he looked like Maddy, but as Maddy was okay, he looked okay.

“Maddy,” he said to himself, “better see how she is.” He walked to her room and was about to bang on the door when Carol came out of it.

“Maddy has gone back to bed, she doesn't feel too good.”

“Oh,” he said, “Can I see her?”

“Best just let her sleep, Gaby.”

“Oh alright, she is okay, though?”

“Yes, it's her period. She's very emotional and has a pain in her tummy, she was dropping off to sleep just now.”

“So are we still going shopping?” said Drew, hoping they weren't.

“Of course, there's nothing wrong with us is there?”

“What about Maddy?”

“She'll sleep for a couple of hours, we'll be back lunchtime. Hopefully, she'll feel better by then.”

“I do hope so,” he replied.

They managed to get the hired bikes in the back of the car after putting the back seat down. Drew was careful not to get oil on his outfit or to break one of his painted nails. Sometimes, these little touches of girldom worried him. Today, however, it didn't. It just meant he wouldn't have to go and change before they went out.

At the Dorchester shop, the young technician unloaded the bikes, and the owner, of whom both Carol and Drew were suspicious, thanked them and bewailed the fact that he hadn't realised she had such potential, otherwise a contract with Trek or Giant might have been possible.

“Well we made no secret of the fact her mother was world champion, and that she was her mother's daughter. In fact you made quite a lot of it, if I remember correctly. More than I thought we'd agreed.”

Then they went on to Matt's shop. “Hello, Gaby, looking gorgeous as ever,” offered Matt.

“Thank you,” said Drew, batting his eyelids, and looking at the floor. “You look pretty good yourself, this morning,” he gave back to the older man. For some reason, Drew enjoyed flirting with Matt, so he'd wanted to look good as Gaby. Naively, he seemed to think that because he was underage, he was safe with the older man. In this case, he was, but it was something that Carol noticed and put on her list of things to discuss with Gaby or Jenny, or both.

“Here's the kit. Including cycle shoes, so you've got the lot. I've got Tim to change the pedals for clips, you okay with them?”

“Yeah, I usually ride with them on my race bike.”

“Race bikes,” corrected Carol, “they have a garage full of bikes.”

“We also changed the wheels and tyres, have you ridden with slicks before?”

“Yeah, lotsa times.”

“There isn't much she doesn't know about bikes,” said Carol, feeling some pride for the youngster before her.

“I suppose not if your Mum's world champ,” agreed Matt. While they chatted Drew tried on the shoes, Specialized made these as well, he wandered out to the back of the shop where Tim was servicing a bike.

“Hi Tim, can I just check these shoes with the pedal clips?”

“Hello, Gabs, can't say they go much with the rest of your outfit," then looked at Drew and at the bike. “Are you going to be able to sit on the bike in a skirt?”

“Course,” said Drew laughing, and hitched it up, showing his knickers in the process.

Tim held the bike while Drew mounted the saddle, he clipped the shoes on the pedals and off again. Satisfied they were similar to his Shimano ones at home, he dismounted, “Thanks for putting tribars on.”

“You've done some time trialling then?”

“Most of the racing I've done is time trials, they don't usually let juniors race in bunches.”

“So how are you doing it now.”

“I'm racing as a senior.”

“I suppose you must be, and beating men, Jeez, Gaby, if you carry on like this you could be challenging your mother in a year or two.”

“I don't know about that,” replied Drew, thinking about its double meaning, “She is something else. I've trained with her and the squad, and I can't stay with them when they really put on the pressure.”

“Where did you train with them?”

“In Germany, I went over to see Mum, and they loaned me a bike. It was brill.”

“I'll bet,” commented Tim, thinking, “For a young ‘un, she's done more than most adult cyclists ever manage. Maybe Matt is right, keep with her, she's going places.”

“Is the bike to madam's satisfaction?” said Matt jokingly.

“It'll do I suppose,” said Drew, keeping up the joke.

“How could we improve it for madam?” asked Matt, his eyes glinting.

“Put go-faster stripes on it., a CD player, air-conditioning, sun-roof.”

“I think you've made your point,” said Matt bringing the nonsense to an end.

“I like the new wheels, Campags, they must have cost a bit?”

“You will never know how much, young lady, please note the matching gear set.”

“What?” said Drew and rushed back into the workshop, “Geez, it is Campag. Wonderful, absolutely brilliant,” he grabbed Tim and kissed him on the cheek.

“Steady on girl, I'm happily married,” said Tim smiling.

Drew rushed back into the shop, “Thanks, Matt.”

“Don't I get a kiss, too?”

Drew, without thinking, pecked Matt on the cheek, “Did Specialized change their spec for the race?”

“No. We...uh… did that ourselves. They come off as soon as the race is over.”

“Thanks Matt, I won't let you down.”

“I know, Gaby, I know you'll do your best. England expects…, and all that.”

They returned to the car, loaded with the kit and shoes. “I take it you are pleased with the bike?” asked Carol as they sat in the car.

“Pleased, I'm over the moon, Auntie Carol. That wheelset and gears cost more than an average bike, they're Campag Chorus. They must have spent hours changing them.”

“Isn't it just a question of changing the wheels over?” asked Carol.

“No it isn't. They have to change the gear levers and cables as well, which as we're talking combined brakes and gear levers, is quite fiddly. I should really have taken it for a test ride, it's gonna handle differently now.”

“Why don't you ask Matt? I can give you three-quarters of an hour, is that long enough?”

“If I can change into my skins it would be.” Drew rushed back to the shop and pleaded with Matt to test the bike. He wondered why she hadn't asked before, and played hard to get.

Then suddenly he said, “If you promise not to go too far, then you can have half an hour.”

Drew changed in the cramped toilet at the back of the shop, handing his Gaby clothes to Carol, he shot out of the shop and jumped on the bike. A few seconds later, he was out of sight.

He had set off towards Chickerell village, and using the tribars, he was moving at quite a fast pace. Thankfully, the two sets of traffic lights were at green and he flew through them. The adrenalin was surging, and he was in cycling heaven. A good bike, not too much wind and light traffic.

He glanced at the computer, he was cruising at thirty miles an hour on the flat. He knew it wouldn't last, but the bike was going like a rocket. As he approached the hill at Chickerell, so his speed dropped down to twenty, but he was still flying. He had been going for ten minutes. He hammered on for another five, then turned around and charged back towards the shop.

Coming down the hill, he notched up over forty. Had he been in a car he could have been liable for a speeding ticket. Arriving at the shop, breathless, it was a good minute before he could report back to Matt and Tim.

“So any good?”

“It's…puff, absolutely…puff, brilliant,” Drew continued smiling and breathing hard.

Tim who was looking at the computer, looked at Matt and said, “Either this thing is faulty, or Gaby has just done fourteen miles in thirty minutes. Top speed fifty-one miles an hour, average speed twenty-eight plus.”

“And you can't keep up with your mother? What's she ride a BMW?” said an astonished Matt. “Look kiddo, I know it was only half a regular run, but if you are capable of that sort of performance, and I don't think the computer's dicky, you should be riding in the nationals, with a view to training for the GB squad. A couple more years, if that and you could be riding pro. How do you feel about that?”

Still breathing heavily, Drew said, “I need to win some races first, Matt. This might just be a one-off.”

“Well said, young'un, you show ‘em it's not and Specialized will be very pleased to have signed you up. You won't be the first they've had, whose managed to get into the GB ladies team.”

As Drew went off to change in the toilet, Matt said to Carol, “Make sure she doesn't overdo the training and racing, she has a rare talent, it needs to be nurtured not spoiled.”

“I know,” said Carol in response, “the problem is, she loves being out on a bike, and she only knows one way to ride – flat out. In fact, we only came down here because she'd had a virus which wouldn't clear up. We all think it was overtraining, plus the stress of having her mother away most of the year.”

“It would be a shame if she does damage herself through overtraining, I'll speak to her tomorrow after the race.”

Drew Goes South Chapter 23 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

They left the bike shop, with Drew still full of his ride. “Have you actually signed anything with Specialized?” asked Carol.

“Not as far as I know. I mean, I can’t can I, I’m not a girl?” said Drew shrugging his shoulders.

“If you win this race tomorrow, it could put you under a lot of pressure.”

“You trying to put me off?”

“Not at all, besides which it would be a waste of time. You always go to win. I’m just saying it would put you under pressure.”

“I know that, but I won’t sign because I can’t. It’s nice to borrow such a lovely bike, which if I do well, will get both Specialized and Matt and Tim’s shop some good publicity. Gaby will disappear when I get home.”

“Until the next time,” quipped Carol.

“There won’t be a next time,” said Drew quite firmly.

“Sorry kiddo, but I have heard you say that before, and here you are again.”

“I really mean it this time.”

“Okay, but don’t do anything too drastic with your Gaby stuff, just in case.”

“I’ll see.”

“Have you spoken to your mother about her seeming to encourage the sponsorship deal?”

“I don’t need to. She has suffered at the hands of various companies who promised sponsorship but didn’t deliver. She was having a bit of fun with them.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.”

“So you won’t mind if I check with her?”

“Feel free. Look Auntie Carol, I’m not a girl so I can’t accept this contract. It would be nice to be offered one, but I can’t sign it unless I have a sex change. I think I’d like to keep my dangly bits.”

“Okay, but I’m a bit uneasy about messing these people about, they can make things difficult if they find out.”

“What are they gonna do, expose me? That would make them appear even more stupid.”

“Would Drew like everyone to know how much time he spent in skirts? Would your friends at school find it funny or think you were gay or something?”

“Do you think a company the size of Specialized would be interested in settling a score with small fry like me?”

“Not as such, but if it got into the press, it would make local news. Life could get very difficult for Drew.”

“So you want me to lose tomorrow?”

“No, that isn’t what I’m saying at all. I’m simply saying, that if you win, there might be consequences.”

“Yeah, yeah. I gotta win first, and that is unlikely. All I want to do is beat Cheesecake again. As long as he thinks he’s been beaten twice by a girl, he’ll lose face. Then he might stop bullying people. That’s all it’s about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, positive.”

“Okay, shall we hit the shops?”

“If you want to. I’m just a bit concerned about Maddy. It’s not like her to take to her bed.”

“She does sometimes. Every now and again she gets a heavy period and goes to bed with painkillers and a hot water bottle.”

“Why would she put painkillers in a hot water bottle?” he gave her a strange look.

“Oh, Gaby, either you are winding me up or sometimes you can be awfully thick.”

Drew pouted in response. “I thought it seemed like a sensible question.”

“She swallows the painkillers. She puts the hot water bottle on her tummy to help relax the muscles, and it encourages blood to the area which helps things too.”

“That’s all I wanted to know.” he looked troubled, and for the first time Carol saw the flaws in his female impersonation, but it was still very good. If he continued with his cross dressing, despite his apparent denials, she would have to get Maddy to explain a few basics of biology to him.

They arrived at the shops and Drew brightened up, once Carol suggested he buy something for Maddy. She had bought him a silk top, he was determined to at least equal it.

He led her into Debenhams, because he knew exactly what he wanted but wasn’t sure where he’d find it, or even if he’d find it. Carol followed him in astonishment as he headed straight into the lingerie department. She held back to see what would happen next.

Drew approached one of the staff and presumably asked something, because she took him off to a display, where he pointed at something and she picked it up. She held it against him, it was a nightdress. He nodded and she went with him to the till, where he paid for his purchase.

Carol who pretended to be looking at bras, pretended to be unaware he’d bought anything. “Oh, you’ve bought something?”

“Yes, a present for Maddy.”

“What is it?”

“Wait and see.”

“Huh, be like that, young lady,” said Carol, pretending to sulk, but inside she wanted to giggle.

They mooched around a few more shops, but their earlier conversation and Drew’s concern for his cousin meant they really weren’t in the mood for shops, so they headed back.

As soon as they arrived, Drew jumped out of the car and rushed up the stairs to Maddy’s room. “I bought you a present… Mad, where are you?”

He rushed back down the stairs, Carol was bringing in the shopping and the cycling gear from the car. “What’s the problem?”

“Maddy isn’t here.”

“I’m sure she is somewhere.”

They searched high and low, but there was no sign of her. Eventually, they found the note, fixed to the fridge by a magnetic picture of Portland Bill lighthouse.

“Gone out for a walk with William and Harry. Love Maddy. XXX”

“I thought she was supposed to be ill?” said an exasperated Drew.

“And I thought you were supposed to be concerned for her?”

“Yeah, well I am.”

“She must have felt a bit better and I presume they came around, so she went out,” surmised Carol.

Drew said nothing, but he could hardly question what seemed very obvious, even to him. He felt a mixture of emotions, part of him wanted to show her the present he’d bought her. Part of him was still having palpitations because she seemed to have disappeared until they found the note.

“I think I’ll change and go looking for them on the bike.”

“No, Gaby, Matthew said you weren’t to ride again until the race.”

“Well as you want me to lose, does it matter?”

“I don’t want you to lose at all. I’d love for you to win, especially against the bully boy, but I am concerned that you don’t get caught up in what could be seen as a fraud. It would damage your mother’s reputation no end.”

“You worry too much, Auntie Carol,” he patted her on the shoulder, and she felt a conflict. Part of her wanted to slap him for being patronising, another part wanted to hug him, to protect him from his own folly. In the end she did neither, asking him to clear up his cycling stuff while she put the kettle on.

They sat and drank their tea in relative silence, but Drew’s continual fidgeting showed he was anything but quiet inside.

“What’s the matter?” asked Carol.

“Who, like said, anythin’ was the matter?” he replied defensively.

“Gaby, I’ve known you long enough to know when something is bugging you,” she put her arm around the boy-girl’s shoulder, "So, are you going tell me … or do I have to … tickle it out of you?” she tickled his ribs as she said it.

The surprise of the attack caught Drew offguard, and he began to giggle, falling off his chair he lay on the floor helpless with laughter.

“So are you going to tell me, or do you want some more?” said Carol, chuckling mischievously.

“Alright … alright … I surrender,” said Drew, trying to get his breath back. He stood up slowly and said, “Oops, I need a wee,” and scampered off to the cloakroom.

When he returned, Maddy was back in the kitchen with Harry and William. “Glad you could come,” quipped Drew.

“Gabs, we’ve been up the woods watching a couple of young buzzards. Harry brought his telescope and they are so yummy. I felt I could almost reach out and touch them.”

“Oh,” said Drew, not being quite sure what to say. He felt angry with her; he worried about her half the morning, and the whole time she was up the woods with two boys, one of whom was supposed to be his boyfriend. Then he stopped in mid-thought,'No that can’t be right. Oh bugger, I know what I mean.'

“You’d have enjoyed it too,” said Maddy, smiling sweetly at him, “They looked so fluffy....”

“Until the mother brought them a piece of fresh rabbit, then it was all blood and guts,” interrupted Harry, acting like a typical boy.

“Yuck,” said Maddy, cringing, “That bit was horrible. Don’t say anymore, Gaby will get upset. We girls don’t like the gruesome bits, do we Gabs?”

Drew seemed to pause a microsecond before answering. If he’d seen the animal being killed or cruelly treated, it would upset him. But seeing buzzards tearing up bits of bashed bunny wouldn’t have worried him. In fact he might have enjoyed it as a spectacle. But it wasn’t Drew who was being asked, it was his alter ego … and that was different.

“No,” he said diffidently. All he wanted to do was give Maddy the present he bought her. He couldn’t do that with an audience.

The boys stuck around until Carol mentioned lunch. Normally, Drew would encourage them to sample Carol’s culinary skills, today however, he felt in need of some space.

“See you later, then,” called Maddy as the boys left, “That’s alright innit Mum?”

“What is, darling?”

“We can go around Harry’s after lunch?”

“It’s okay with me, but hadn’t you better ask Gaby? she may have different plans.”

“Alright, Gabs?”

Drew who was speechless, shrugged almost helplessly.

“See you later then, about an hour, okay, bye.”

Drew wandered into the kitchen. He didn’t know what he felt, a sort of mixed up set of feelings. He’d worried about her all morning, then finds out she has been out with two boys, one of whom is supposed to be his boyfriend. This was where it got a bit confusing. Should he feel jealous because she’s been out with his boyfriend, or because Maddy is his girlfriend, and had been out with two boys? Either way, he felt jealous which was a new emotion for him.

Well, it wasn’t entirely new, he recalled being jealous of the special relationship Jules had with their dad, especially when she was younger. He then thought about the special relationship Jules now had with their mother, both being, like, female. He always seemed to miss out. His mother loved him, but did she love him as much as she did Jules? Did his mother love him more as Gaby, or as Drew? If his mother did love Gaby more, would he be inclined to become Gaby more often? Perhaps altogether.

Wow, this was dangerous territory, but it would solve the problem with Specialized. Drew had no contracts in the offing and he was a national champion, yet Gaby did after winning one race. It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t because she was better than everybody else, but because the manufacturer wanted a female rider to market their stuff, and a young one. She was in the right place at the right time, yet because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, he got coffee all over him and then mistaken as a girl.

It was all so silly, all happening as a consequence of one cup of coffee. Drew tried to recall a lesson they’d had in psychology, about some young bloke who’d invented complexes, and synchromesh or something like that.

He shook his head, no, it wasn’t a young bloke, his name was Young or something like that ... Jung. That was it, like Jungfrau. He suggested, that was Jung did, that nothing was a coincidence, or was it that everything was a coincidence, or was it meaningful coincidence?

That sounded better, everything was a meaningful coincidence, which he called synchromesh or was it syncopate, anyway it was sinful or something. This would mean that he was meant to be a girl for this period, and perhaps sign up with Specialized, that the coffee wasn’t an accident but something that was meant to be, and he was here to meet Harry and teach Cheeseman a lesson, but as a girl, and… his head was about to explode.

Carol, noticed him deep in thought; she carried on making the lunch a tuna pasta, one of her quick meals. She knew that he was a far deeper thinker than he made out, he would puzzle things and shake them like a terrier. He pretended he was a bit of a lad, but he was sensitive and considerate – more so than Maddy. He sat down at the table, he hadn’t spoken for two or three minutes. She let him be. Then as she was collecting the cutlery to lay the table, he suddenly said,” Auntie Carol, do you believe there’s a God?”

“My goodness Gaby, don’t ask me a difficult question will you?” she paused and he frowned, waiting for her answer. “I don’t know, the arguments both for and against seem equally valid, so it’s up to us to make up our own mind.”

“Oh,” he said, and frowned some more.

“Jung, said there was.”

“Did he? well, he’s entitled to his opinion.”

“You don’t think there is ?”

“I don’t know, Gaby. Why do you ask?” she placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just tryin’ to understand something.”

“Sometimes it helps to talk to someone, why don’t you talk it over with Maddy?”

“No.”

“Oh, alright, what about Harry or William? they seem level headed young men.”

“No.”

“Well, there’s always me, I suppose, but I don’t want to influence the outcome. It’s for you decide for yourself but I could listen, if you need me to.”

“Nah, it’s okay. It was silly anyway.”

“If you’re sure?” Carol felt she had let him down, but also felt she had acted responsibly.

“Yeah, what’s for lunch, I’m famished?”

Maddy joined them for lunch after Drew laid the table. He had forgotten about his present. “Did you get your racing skins?” she asked him.

“Yeah, they’re cool, red and white.”

“Let’s see then,” demanded Maddy.

“After lunch,” countered Carol, at which point conversation practically ceased to be replaced by sounds of eating.

As soon as they were finished, Maddy again demanded to see the racing kit. Drew sighed, but he was quite happy to wear them again.

“Oh, yes,” she said when he emerged from his room, “very striking, but we might have to change your nail polish and lipstick to match.”

Drew’s heart sank, he’d just got used to the regime Maddy had created for him, he didn’t want to change it. Then he thought, “distract her.” He disappeared back into his room and came out with the Debenham’s bag. “I got this for you, because I thought you were ill.”

Maddy blushed, “Well, I was, but girl stuff, you know, time of the month.” Drew nodded that he understood although the amount he understood was limited.

Maddy opened the bag, and pulled out the contents, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. “Oh, wow, Gabs, thank you so much,” she planted a huge kiss on his cheek then held the nightdress against herself. She beamed like a light house, kissed him again then rushed downstairs to show her mother.

A couple of minutes later she was back, and Drew asked her to try it on. Now it was her turn to disappear, then two ticks later she was back. She hugged him again and kissed him once more. “It’s beautiful, thank you,” then kissed him some more.

“I take it you like it?” he said tongue in cheek.

“No, it’s horrible,” she said.

“Good,” he said and they hugged once more.

They were still hugging when she began to weep, silently at first, then the sobbing began.

“You okay?” asked Drew holding her firmly, soothing her back.

Maddy seemed unable to reply, shaking her head.

“Should I call your mum?”

Once more Maddy shook her head. They hugged some more. Eventually when she composed herself, they sat down on her bed. “I feel very guilty accepting this gift.”

“Why?” Drew looked very confused.

“I don’t think I deserve it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been horrible to you at times.”

“No you haven’t … well, okay, once or twice, but it was mostly done in fun. Or I thought it was.”

“You are such a nice person Gaby, always seeing the best in everyone. Don’t change, will you?”

“Yes I will,” he replied, she looked startled, “but only out of these togs, before you shrink them.” He smiled at her, and she chuckled back.

“You are the best girlfriend I could ever have …” Drew felt crestfallen as she said this, “… and Drew is the nicest boy I have ever met,” he went off to change feeling better.

“Are you going to change, or are you going to Harry’s like that?”

“Like this, I couldn’t decide whether I should wear slippers or wellies.”

“Wellies, yes, wellies definitely.” Then they both burst into giggles and fell about the bed, tears running from their faces as they giggled uncontrollably.

“Gabs?” said Maddy, when they had calmed down a little.

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes I’m jealous of you.”

“Me? What for?”

“ ‘Cos sometimes you’re prettier than me.”

“What?” said Drew sitting up, “how can I be prettier than you?”

“I think you are, so does Harry.”

“What does he know about such things?” Drew shook his head, “He knows so much about girls, he fancies a boy,” there was a pause before Maddy sniggered in response, the snigger grew into a chortle, which became a giggle and two ticks later, they were both helpless again.

Eventually, when they were exhausted and tear glands empty, Maddy said, ”It proves the point, doesn’t it?”

Drew, who was nursing stomach muscles which ached from laughing, asked, “ What point is that?”

“That you are pretty.”

“Why ‘cos one blind, oversexed teenage boy thinks so,. I don’t think so, boys are pretty dim in the first place.”

“My Drewbie isn’t,” pouted Maddy.

“Well, okay, he might be the exception, but otherwise … just look at Clive. He can’t seem to spot me in a skirt, is still me. He thinks I’m Gaby.”

“You are Gaby,” sniggered Maddy.

“You know what I mean. I mean, I’m not wearing make-up or anything, just girl’s clothes, and he thinks I am one.”

“Do you like being Gaby?”

“Sometimes.”

“Like today?”

“ ‘s’alright, I s’pose.”

“Would you like to be Gaby, all the time?”

“No.”

“Even if it meant you could get a contract to ride as a semi-pro.”

“But I couldn’t could I? I’m not a girl.”

“They can sort that, can’t they? You see stories in the paper all the time about girls who used to be boys and the other way around.”

“Would you like to be a boy, then?” asked Drew turning the tables on Maddy.

“Course not.”

“ ‘Cos if I became a girl, you’d have to become a boy if we were to stay together.”

“If I said I would become a boy, would you go for being Gaby all the time?”

“Dunno,” this was a perspective he hadn’t considered, and it perturbed him.

“Crikey, look at the time,” exclaimed Maddy, “I’ve got to get changed, we’re gonna be late,” with that, Drew went back to his own room and took his difficult thoughts with him.

Drew Goes South Chapter 24 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The ‘terrible two’ arrived a bit late at Harry’s, both of them had had to repair makeup, especially around their eyes, however, Maddy, despite her earlier tears had managed to escape the red eyes which often follow a bout of crying.

They had both opted for shorts and tee shirts, Drew not appreciating how they accentuated his small waist and expanding hips, Carol noticed it as they called to her as they were leaving. The shorts were actually Maddy’s, she knew this because she had bought them for Maddy, herself, they seemed to fit Drew’s bottom even better than her daughter's.

Carol watched them walk down the drive, laughing and joking like two sisters. She really worried about Drew, wondering how he was ultimately going to cope with a body which seemed increasingly female.

Most of the boys in his year were starting to show facial hair and growth spurts. He was smaller, had a relatively high voice and had no body or facial hair to speak of. Carol had also noticed his nipples looked slightly larger than the last time she had seen him with his shirt off. She accepted that Jenny and Dave were right to give Drew space to see how he felt about things, but at times she felt they were being a trifle too liberal about it.

She liked Drew, he was a lovely kid, he had the odd moment of acting wild, like any boy, but most of them did it much of the time, his was occasional. It worried her.

On a bike, he was ruthless and very aggressive, and so was his mother. Theoretically, that could mean he either had it in his genes or had learned it from Jenny. Mind you, Dave was a gentle guy, very caring and a deep thinker. At times it almost seemed the parental roles had been switched, Jenny was the competitive go-getter, while Dave spent as much time as he could with the kids.

Her John was a gentle type too, but he didn’t go overboard on looking after Maddy when she was young, as Dave had done with Juliette and Drew. She had once teased, asking if Dave was breastfeeding yet. his response had been to call her bluff, by claiming he would if he could. She believed he was probably telling the truth. So if she was busy, it was usually easier to get Dave to babysit than it was her own husband.

Was it any wonder Drew had possible gender confusion? Or was that unfair? She reconsidered that her own feminist leanings told her, ‘we should all be free to be who we are, irrespective of social stereotypes,’ she accepted this, it all being shades of grey rather than the black and white portrayed by the media and certain fundamentalist groups. It was exactly what Jenny and Dave subscribed to, so maybe they were correct. It eased her mind for the moment, but she still wanted to talk with them about Drew’s future, just to make sure they had all the information they needed.

She wondered if a chromosome check was required, or to see if he was androgen insensitive or in one of the strange and anomalous situations, in which some people find themselves.

She wondered about his questions about God. What was all that about? It piqued her curiosity and she wished now she had got him to talk a bit more, in case he saw his life as being divinely plagued or under some sort of judgement. If that was the case, it needed to be nipped in the bud as soon as possible, she would try and revive the subject when she could.

Blissfully unaware of Carol’s quandary, the terrible twosome were being politely bored to death by all the bird pictures Harry had ever taken. There were hundreds of photos on his computer. He’d kept all the bad ones, such as a little grebe, which had dived a split second before the shutter moved and showed simply open water; or the blackbird which had got so tame, it came too close for him to focus on, being more of a black blurred.

They teased him gently, trying not to yawn too openly, but it was so boring. William had had to mow his lawn so was late arriving, “You’re not showing those bloody old bird pix again, are you?”

“What’s it to you, Bugler? Our beautiful friends haven’t seen them before.”

“Aren’t they the lucky ones. He fancies himself as David Attenborough, and to be honest, he’s just like David Attenborough … only without the talent.” This latest jibe resulted in some impromptu wrestling from both boys, neither of whom seemed able to get the upper hand.

Maddy and Drew sat watching this with indifference, “Aren’t you glad you’re a girl?” said Maddy to her cousin. Drew rolled his eyes upwards and nodded.

After about five minutes, Harry’s mother looked in on the source of the strange noises. “What on earth is going on in here?” she asked in a loud and disapproving voice. The boys stopped and stood still, breathing heavily and with very red faces. “I’m surprised you girls allowed this to happen,” she said to Maddy and Drew.

Maddy simply shrugged her shoulders, but Drew, feeling mischievous replied. “It’s alright, Maddy’s going to fight the winner.”

The look of shock on Maddy’s face made the others laugh, even Harry’s mum, “And I suppose you are going to referee?” she quipped at Drew.

“Oh no, I’m always her second when she duels or wrestles anyone. Back home she’s known as the ‘Warsop Strangler’.”

Maddy open mouthed, turned and slapped Drew on the arm. “Please don’t start on me, Strangler, I didn’t mean it, honest I didn’t,” was his response while appearing to cower in mock fear.

By now everybody including Maddy was falling about laughing, and then she had to rush off to the toilet.

“Is she always this funny?” asked Mrs Palmer of the boys.

“Not when she’s riding a bike,” said William quietly but firmly, “Then she’s deadly serious.”

“A bit like some of the spiders I’ve photographed. Argiope bruennichi or the European wasp spider, females often kill and eat their would-be partners,” said Harry.

Drew couldn’t let this pass without a feminist comment, “See males do have their uses, I thought I was feeling a bit peckish.” This got Mrs Palmer chuckling like a demented hen.

Then Harry killed it by ignoring the humorous remark, and by adding, ”I’m sure I’ve got some photos of it here somewhere.” He began rummaging among some CD ROMs he had by the side of the computer, everyone groaned, but he ignored that too.

“Have you asked the girls if they are staying to tea?” Mrs Palmer said to her son.

“Not yet Mum, gimme, like a chance.”

“Well, girls, are you staying for tea?” she voiced her question directly to Maddy and Drew.

Neither particularly wanted to and were about to decline politely, when Harry insisted they stay, especially as William was. Reluctantly they agreed, or Maddy did on their behalf.

The weather had improved, and the four teenagers went out into Harry’s garden. The girls were inveigled into a game of badminton, which initially Drew tried to escape, and Maddy was reluctant to play.

From previous experience, Maddy and Gaby, were quite a reasonable pairs team except the boys were reluctant to play boys v girls.

“We can’t play boys against girls, it wouldn’t like, be friendly,” said William.

“Harry added, “Yeah, I like, totally agree, boys are better at most games and it would just be a massacre.”

Meanwhile, this was grist to Drew’s mill, he loved it when he was written off. Initially, he had suggested he just sit and watch, Maddy had agreed to do the same. Now he was relishing the opportunity to smash a few shuttles.

The Palmer’s garden had a large lawn, and it had been marked out for a badminton court, so playing would be more than just a messy knockabout.

“I think Maddy ‘n me’d like to be massacred,” said Drew quietly, well aware there were some sexual overtones in what he’d just said, “So us two’ll play you two.”

“Eh, what?” said Maddy, as Drew grabbed her and led her to the opposite side of the net, he then led her into doing some cheerleading stretches and jumps. The boys stood with mouths wide open, drooling at the cavorting girls.

Then they had two minutes warm-up, by this time, Maddy and Drew were nicely loosened up and ready to go. The boys, were part warmed up and like lambs to the slaughter. Common sense should have warned them that Gaby was competitive. They knew she was a killer on a racing bike, she was the same on a badminton court.

Maddy played front court and Drew covered the back. After Drew had smashed yet another shot past the boys, right down the middle, the girls were ten points ahead.

“You’ve played this before?” said William, rhetorically.

“Who me?” answered Drew innocently, “how can you think that?” Maddy chuckled but avoided eye contact with anyone. If she giggled, the boys would have a chance.

Needless to say, the girls won the first game by eighteen points. The boys, however, came back in the second game. Drew had them running all over the court as he played to all four corners. Maddy who had received the signal, protected the front court, playing an assortment of dinks and drop shots which had the boys racing into the net at every opportunity.

The improvement in the boys' game, meant they only lost by fifteen points in the second game, helped no doubt by their now warmed up legs.

In the third game, the girls were way ahead when Drew slipped on the grass. He felt a pull in his ankle and stayed sitting down. Maddy, rushed to help him. “You alright Gabs?”

“No, my ankle hurts.”

The boys were alongside in a few seconds, helping Drew to his feet. He tried to stand on the foot, but his right ankle seared with pain.

“Where does it hurt?” asked William.

“My ankle, I think I’ve sprained it,” replied Drew.

“Get some ice, Harry,” barked William to his friend.

“Hurry Harry,” exhorted Maddy, then thought it sounded rather funny, she began to giggle.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny,” said an irritated Drew.

“Keep your wig on,” Maddy retorted, “I thought, ‘Hurry Harry’, was funny not you breaking your leg.”

“I’ve only sprained it. Ouch, it bloody hurts” said Drew limping to sit on a garden chair. “This is all I need, for tomorrow.”

“Oh hell, I’d forgotten about that,” said Maddy.

“Here, shove this on it,” Harry had returned with a proper ice pack and a towel. As he pulled Drew’s trainer off, so the foot began to swell, he clamped the ice pack to the ankle and wrapped the towel around it.

“Geez, that is cold,” said Drew, jumping involuntarily.

“Keep your big feet still, Dr ... dopey,” said Maddy, blushing. Thankfully only Drew noticed her slip of lip.

“My feet aren’t that big,” replied Drew huffily.

“I think your feet are lovely,” beamed Harry, “Like the rest of you.”

“See,” said Drew pointedly to Maddy, “Somebody likes me.”

“His opinion doesn’t count, he was bewitched by the wicked bicycle queen, two weeks ago, and fell in love with the first thing he saw on a bicycle. He was lucky it was you, and not the postman.”

Everyone fell about laughing at Maddy’s reply, William, with tears rolling down his cheeks, said,” Thank God I walked over.”

“How do we lift the spell?” asked Harry, his eyes twinkling.

“You ride two hours a day, six days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. After two or three years, you’ll be sick to the death of the sight of a bicycle, or in love with Lance Armstrong. Either way, you’ll be cured of the spell, unless of course your name is Bond, in which case, it lasts indefinitely,” spouted Maddy, thinking, 'I’ll teach you Drew Bond…Warsop Strangler, indeed.'

“Perhaps I could change my name to Bond,” said Harry quietly.

Nobody seemed to listen at first, then William said, “What?” while looking at Harry.

Harry looked at his friend.

“What did you just say?” repeated his friend.

“I suppose I could change my name to Bond,” said Harry, now blushing.

“Like, what for?” asked Maddy.

“So I could stay under the spell, for longer,” Harry now looked very sheepish and was staring intently at the grass under his feet.

“You what …?” asked Maddy, chuckling, while William and Drew both rolled their eyes to the sky.

“You know what I mean, I love Gaby,” had it been dark, Harry’s face would have glowed with sufficient heat to be visible from twenty thousand feet, now Drew was beginning to blush, and it wasn’t heat from his ankle.

“Aw bless,” said Maddy, “perhaps we should give the young lovers some time to themselves,” William nodded.

“No,” said Drew.

“Why not?” asked Maddy with feigned innocence.

“I need to get home and rest this ankle.”

“You could rest it where you are,” teased Maddy, “here, put it up on this chair” she pulled alongside another garden chair.

“I need to get home Mad,” Drew struggled to his feet, and began to limp across the lawn, “Can we call Auntie Carol, to come and get us?”

“Yeah, course,” said a disappointed Harry, as he helped the object of his affection limp back to the house.

Back at the cottage, Carol examined the bruised and swollen limb, “Does it hurt much?”

“It throbs a bit, but it hurts most when I stand on it or try to walk.”

“I think you'd best scratch from tomorrow,” she said, knowing it would be accepted with great difficulty.

“I can’t, Auntie Carol, there’s an awful lot riding on this, not just me.”

“From the look of that ankle, you’ll be the only thing not riding. I’m going to call Matt.”

“Can’t we wait until morning? I’m sure, it’ll feel better then.”

“Gaby, there is a very strong chance it won’t be much better. It is only fair to warn Matt now, no buts or maybes,” with that, Carol walked off to the phone.

While she was there, the doorbell rang. Maddy went to answer it, and came back two minutes later with a huge bunch of flowers, They’re from Harry, a bit of a conscience salver, I think.”

“Crikey,” exclaimed Drew, when he saw Maddy struggling with the bouquet, “There can’t be any flowers, for a three-mile radius of this place.”

“Apart from the ones you’ve got in vases, jam jars and assorted buckets” quipped Maddy, “Shoulda told ‘im you get ‘ayfever.”

“But I don’t,” queried a puzzled Drew.

“Yeah, but then, ‘e mighta stopped buyin’ ‘em.”

“I think it’s sweet of him,” said Drew, surprised at what came out of his own mouth.

“Hark at you, Miss Girly pants.”

“Well it is nice of him.”

“So you’ll give him a big kiss and say thank you, will you?”

“I s’pose I’ll ‘ave to.”

“Yes you will, Gaby Bond, two weeks ago that would have frightened you more than riding the wall of death, now, it seems rather too easy. I think you are adapting to this girl stuff rather too well.”

As Drew blushed and tried to protest, Maddy cut short his efforts by pacing to and fro. “Members of the jury, I would ask you to consider the accused, Gaby Bond, as fibbing through her back teeth when she says she doesn’t enjoy all the perks of being a girl. Furthermore, her ability to take to it like a duck to water and being practically undetectable from the real thing, even so far as to be prettier than her cousin '.…”

“That isn’t true, Maddy Peters.”

“Objection overruled.”

“I thought, only the judge could say that, ‘overruled' bit.”

“I’m the judge as well,” beamed Maddy.

“Who’s the jury then?”

“I am,” said Maddy.

“This doesn’t look like a fair trial to me,” protested Drew.

“Tell it to the appeal court.”

“Who are they?”

“Me,” she smiled smugly.

“This sounds like something out of 'Alice In Wonderland.'

“Off with her head….” Maddy was interrupted by Carol coming back.

“I thought her ankle was the problem,” said a puzzled Carol to her daughter.

“It’s nothing some brain surgery wouldn’t cure.”

“Leave my brain out of this.”

“You already did.”

“Girls, can we please have some sense here? Gaby, Matt is on his way over. He needs to see your ankle, and is bringing a support thing, he said to keep the ice on it.”

“At this rate, I’ll have frostbite by tomorrow.”

“Good gracious, where did all those flowers come from?” said Carol, suddenly noticing the floral additions.

“Give you two guesses…”

“Harry?”

“Got it in one.”

“Either he’s very fond of you, or has a guilty conscience,” said Carol, examining the blooms.

“Or both,” quipped Maddy.

“Would you like to phone him, to say thank you?”

“Not just yet, Auntie Carol. Let’s see what Matt has to say.”

“What about saying thank you? I’m sure he’d say, 'phone the boy'.”

“Maddy, don’t be so silly. Go and put the kettle on.”

Maddy left the room in high dudgeon, “I keep telling you, the kettle won’t fit ….” she scolded as she left.

Carol shook her head. Maddy was acting more like a boy than a girl. She couldn’t cope with this blending genders stuff. One uncertain candidate at a time was as much as she could cope with, two was too much.

Carol sat down next to Drew, “How’s the ankle?”

“I’ll be alright.” Smiled back Drew, with a confidence he didn’t feel. But then he was used to bluffing others. At times when racing, he needed to appear supremely confident to psyche opponents, at others, it was better to appear to be tired or doubtful.

Before the conversation could approach areas Drew would prefer to leave unexpressed, Maddy returned noisily. “Who wants what, then?”

She placed the tray of crockery, teapot and biscuits on the table, with enough noise to prevent Drew and Carol from saying anything audible.

“I think you have shown your true vocation,” said Carol to her daughter.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Tea lady.”

“Cool” she replied.

“Come to think of it, your father said the other week that Doris was retiring, so I could put in a word for you if you like?”

Drew looked rather unhappy with this conversation, “As a future Olympic medallist and Tour winner, I can’t be seen with a tea lady on my arm.”

“Gabs, you practically run on tea, plus if you’re seen with any sort of girl on your arm, it will make good headlines.”

“I meant when I’m back to normal, as Drew.”

“I thought you’d forgotten about him; biscuit?” said Maddy, proffering the plate of digestives.

“I thought we had some choccie ones.”

“Gabs, you can only eat them once. You did, last week.”

“Oh bugger.”

“Gaby Bond, that is not very polite. Please refrain from swearing, it merely demonstrates a paucity of vocabulary and penury of cohesive conversation.”

At this Drew stopped, mouth wide open. He was about to say something but Carol had got him again with big words. Maddy stood sniggering, still holding the plate of biscuits.

Just then the doorbell rang. “If that’s any more flowers, tell ‘em I ran away,” squeaked Drew as Maddy went to answer the door.

“How could you run away on a bad foot?” came back the response from the hallway.

Drew Goes South Chapter 25 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

Drew heard voices in the hallway and moments later in walked Matt, “What have you been up to, young lady ?”

“I slipped and twisted my ankle,” said Drew, grimacing.

“These things happen,” said Matt, shrugging his shoulders, “How bad is it?”

“It’s a bit painful, but I’ll be okay,” Drew said bravely, although, in his heart, he wasn’t sure he believed what came out of his mouth.

Matt moved towards our hapless hero, and gently took the ice pack off Drew’s ankle. He carefully examined the joint , shaking his head he stood up, “There is no way you can race tomorrow, not on that ankle.”

“It’ll be alright if I strap it up.”

“Even if you do, it’s too swollen to get your shoes on. Remember cycle shoes are pretty tight.”

“After a night’s rest, it’ll feel much better.”

“Gaby, I can’t take the responsibility for making an injury worse. Sprains are ligamentous injuries, they take time to heal. Further injury to the ligaments could mean you end up with a chronic injury. They are non-elastic tissue, if they stretch, they don’t contract again, leaving you with a weak joint. Is that what you want for the sake of one race?”

“No of course not.”

“Well then, I’ll announce we’re scratching tomorrow through injury. You’re welcome to come and watch but not to ride.”

“People might think I did it deliberately.”

“That’s their problem.”

“I’m going to ride.”

“Not on my bike,” said Matt.

“Okay, I’ll use my own. It’s a Specialized too, so I can still wear the kit.”

“So you’re happy to possibly further injure yourself and because you won’t be riding to form or on the best bike, disappoint your sponsor too?”

“There will be lots of people waiting to see me ride. They were also hoping to see the bike, but that’s not possible. I won’t disappoint them and I’m still gonna beat Cheesecake. So there.” Drew sat with his arms folded in a defiant posture, he was trying to be brave but he was actually fighting back the tears.

Matt knew how he felt. In his fifteen years as a good amateur racer, he’d had to cry off more than once through injury. It always hurt as much as the injury, sometimes more.

“I can’t stop you from riding, but I am withdrawing my support. So if you ride, you have no backup. I think you are being very silly if you do ride.”

“I have to ride and I will ride,” said Gaby defiantly.

“Oh will you now?” said Carol. “I am responsible for you while you are here and if Matt says you shouldn’t ride, I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“Please don’t do this to me, Auntie Carol.”

“You leave me no choice, Gaby.”

“I will ride. So there,” he stood up and despite the pain in his ankle, Drew stormed out of the room, muttering obscenities and slamming the door behind him.

Carol said in a loud voice, “I will deal with you later, young lady,” she then went on to talk with Matt, assuming that the slammed door was that of Gaby’s bedroom. It wasn’t. Drew took the cycling kit, and his trainers and sneaked out the back door. He collected his own bike from the garage, and shoving his kit into a small backpack, rode off down the road. His ankle hurt, but not as much as he thought it would. He would cope with an hour of racing. He would race, now all he had to do was find somewhere to stay for the night.

As an angry adolescent, he hadn’t taken into account what would happen after he ran away. As a minor, he would be reported to the police, who would then begin to search for him, as his guardian, Carol would spend a period of intense worry and anger until he returned, safe. She would want him to come back safely so she could kill him, slowly, Maddy would also be worried.

He sent her a text message:
“Im ok. Gonna ride 2moro.CU there. Bring UR makeup kit.”

Maddy of course replied:

“Don’t B a wnkr! Cum home now! Police R after U.”

His response to that was:

“If I don’t ride, Im going bck 2 Warsop 2nite.”

At this point Maddy felt obliged to inform Carol. She felt a tugging from both of them, she loved both of them, her cousin and her mother, and she could see both points of view as well. It was a real dilemma.

“What?” screeched Carol, when she saw the text message. The police had not yet been called, but it was the next stage, thankfully, Maddy and she, were alone. “He can’t, can he?”

“You know Drew. He’d do it to prove the point and probably mess his ankle up for life,” Maddy wasn’t too sympathetic towards her mother.

“Alright, Miss Clever Clogs, how do we get him home?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Maddy said smugly.

“If it’s so easy, why don’t you try it?”

“I will if you want, but it means telling him he can race,” Maddy almost sniggered as she said this.

“Never,” snapped her mother.

“Have it your way. You can explain to his parents...”

Carol harrumphed, wrung her hands and said, “Wait a minute. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Gaby wants to race. She has run away because she feels it’s the only way she can race. If you tell her she can, she’ll come home. What happens tomorrow is another day,” said Maddy with an air of superiority her mother did not enjoy.

'Bloody teenagers!' she thought, but said, “Go on then, tell her she can race if she comes home now, but only if she comes home now.”

“Okay.” quipped Maddy and sent the text:

“If U cum home now, U cn race 2moro. Hrry.”

Drew’s immediate thought was, “It’s a trap.” At the same time, he didn’t like to worry the others and certainly didn’t want to face the police again. Nevertheless, he needed Carol’s word. She was a person of some integrity, he knew that, he hoped it would last a couple more days.

He pressed speed dial on his mobile. Maddy’s phone began to squawk like a parrot. She thought it was a cool ring tone, Drew’s barked like a dog. But then he was barking.

“Hi,” said Maddy.

“Can I speak to Auntie Carol?”

“Mum, it’s Gaby.” Maddy handed the phone to Carol.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, I was very upset, myself,” said Drew, apologetically.

“Where are you now?”

“Nearby,” replied Drew, from the garage, he had sneaked back without being seen.

“Come home now and we’ll forget this happened,” said Carol, trying to retain some authority.

“Maddy’s message said, ‘I could race tomorrow’.”

“Did it?” said Carol.

“Please say I can, and I’ll come straight home.”

“Why should I?”

“Because it will save you having to explain to my mum that I ran away.” This was not the answer Carol was expecting, and she felt sick and angry at the same time. Smart-arsed kids!

“What if I don’t?” she felt a need to know his fallback position.

“I’ll see you at the race or start for Warsop. It’ll only take me two or three days.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, what about your ankle?”

“I’ll cope.”

“Gaby, you are thirteen years old, for God’s sake, come home and stop this brinkmanship. It might work in races, but not with me. I’m not in competition with you, you silly goose. Just come home.” Tears were beginning to well up in Carol’s eyes. She’d long since lost the encounter, but that was secondary to getting him home safe.

“So can I race?”

“If you come home now, you can decide that tomorrow, see how your ankle is.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Gaby, just get here now.”

“Please Auntie Carol, is it a promise that I can race tomorrow?”

“If that’s what it takes, yes, it’s a promise. Now, will you come home?”

“Of course, I will. I’m sorry I upset you.”

He waited a very tense ten minutes in the garage, before entering by the back door. Maddy saw him first, but he pressed a finger to his lips and she stifled what she was going to say.

Carol, who sat with her back to the door, looked up at Maddy, “Were you going to say something?”

Maddy shook her head. At this point Drew came through the door.

“Here I am. I am sorry Auntie Carol,” he looked at the floor.

“Before we go any further, this incident has to stay between we three and Matt. No one else is to ever learn of it. If they do, it will make all of us look pretty stupid. Do we all agree?”

Drew and Maddy nodded their agreement.

“Give me a hug then, your clever cousin had better have one too,” Carol and Drew embraced, “You silly child, don’t you ever do that again.”

“I won’t," sniffed Drew, the hug had liberated the tears which had been threatening to come since Matt had visited. Carol too was crying, inside she felt like jelly. She had lost to a thirteen-year-old, but to her winning wasn’t as important as keeping him safe. She had won that contest.

They hugged for a couple of minutes, neither saying anything. Then Drew broke away and went to Maddy. They hugged and hugged, then they cried together and hugged some more. “You dizzy blonde,” said Maddy, sniffing. She smiled, Drew smiled and Carol smiled watching them. No one is quite sure who started giggling first, but it quickly spread like an epidemic. In moments all three were giggling, helpless with laughter. Maddy wet herself and kept giggling. It was that sort of moment.

Finally, Carol regained some self-control and set about taking back the initiative. “Right, it’s getting late. Gaby, I want you to have a bath and then rest that leg. Maddy, I can see a wet patch on your shorts. I think you’d better have a quick shower and then Gaby can have her bath. Quickly, or it’ll be time to get up.”

This was what they did. Maddy flew through the shower like someone with hydrophobia. She was so quick, that her mother wondered if she’d even got wet. However, her hair needed drying so she must have done. Then Drew had his bath, soaking his foot and ankle for about quarter of an hour. It began to swell and he had it back in a cold pack shortly after.

The pain was subsiding a little, despite his little jaunt. He felt comfy in his silk nightie as he lay back on the bed. Maddy came in wearing hers and kissed him goodnight.

She stroked his ankle, “Do you really think you’ll be able to race tomorrow?”

“Yeah, why not?” he smiled back with more confidence than he really felt. The bruising was coming out at his toes, which were now a shade of yellow and green with blue blotches.

“You have more faith than I do. I think you’re mad.”

“No, me Tarzan, you Mad.”

“Gaby, you are completely off your trolley, do you know that I only love you because I know you wouldn’t survive on your own.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, like, with friends like you, who needs cheesecake?”

Maddy had to hear that statement again in her head before it made any sense. About the third time on action replay, the penny dropped. She smiled and after kissing him again, went off to her own room.

Carol, who had fortified herself with two quick glasses of wine while the teens were getting ready for bed, looked in on Drew.

“How’s the ankle?”

“Improving, it’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“You must think I came down in the last fall of snow, Gaby Bond, I know what a sprained ankle feels like. I think you are very silly if you ride tomorrow, you could do yourself more permanent damage, you know this.”

“I know that I am going to ride, and I am going to beat Cheeseman.”

“But at what cost to yourself?”

“It’ll heal.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do, I always do. It’ll be alright Auntie Carol, you just wait and see.”

That night, Drew tossed and turned. He prayed his ankle would be well enough to race. He drifted in and out of sleep. He had strange dreams, from which he would awake to feel anxious or confused. He could hear Carol snoring in the room next to him, sleeping off the effects of her wine.

Maddy too, was having difficulty sleeping. She was worried about the race tomorrow. She almost felt like volunteering to go in Drew’s place, but she was nowhere near as good as him. She would have finished somewhere about halfway down the field, whereas Drew had a chance to come in the first half a dozen.

She almost wanted to go in and see him, but she hoped he was asleep. She felt the silk of the nightdress and felt fondly for him. In lots of ways she was so lucky, she had a kind and loyal boyfriend and girlfriend all rolled into one. Who else would have given her this nightdress, simply because he had one and knew she envied it? It was an act much more like a girl than a boy.

Boys buy girls clothes they want to see them wear, often with disastrous results. Drew had bought the nightie under Gaby’s influence. It was more of a present from her than him. Maddy did love them both. Then that fazed her a little.

She began to wonder how normal she was. Oh it was a laugh to get a boy into girl’s stuff on a one-off, but to seem to have him in them nearly as much as he wore school uniform, was a bit unusual, especially, as he didn’t encourage it directly, so he wasn’t really one of those transwotsit people, at the same time he didn’t seem to discourage it as much as most boys would, wasn’t that strange?

Gaby was developing into a real person, she wasn’t just Drew in a skirt. She seemed to think differently to Drew, at least at times she did. It was true he was more considerate than most boys, and avoided fights and things yet he wasn’t a sissy. He didn’t play rugby, but if the local team asked him, he’d give it a go.

She smiled at the thought of him playing rugby against boys twice his size, then saw him injured and the smile turned to silent tears. She’d seen him play football. He wasn’t much good, but he’d done his best and was pretty nippy. He’d done quite well at athletics, being a useful middle distance runner – but cycling was his sport. Well, that and cheerleading, he seemed to be a natural at it, too.

He was, once he forgot his hang-ups and got into the moves. He moved gracefully and lithely, he really was quite supple for a boy, and a cyclist at that. She had read in one of his many cycling books, that many amateurs don’t do enough stretching and risk pulling muscles and tendons, also they become overdeveloped in some muscle groups compared to others. Drew had avoided this because his mother knew what she was doing and trained him properly.

He was useful on a badminton court, being fast and supple just like his sister who was a county-level player. Yeah, he was good at badminton … then she remembered the previous afternoon … and his injured ankle. The silent tears continued. Sometimes life was so unfair...

While Maddy sobbed silently, Drew was thinking his own thoughts. He’d just had a nasty dream, he’d been racing as Gaby, he was part of the Specialized Ladies Team, and they had been doing well in a road race.

He was their main hope, and his teammates had been doing their bit of supporting, blocking, chasing breakaways down and the usual protection job. Drew like his mother, was seen as a useful sprint finisher but could also lead from the front for much of a race à la Lance Armstrong. In fact, he was becoming quite a well-rounded rider.

The race had about a kilometre to go, his team placed him beautifully, blocking two challenges and he went for it. He dropped a cog and accelerated to twenty-five miles an hour. There were just two in front of him and he was on them before they could sense him.

The German girl, Katarina dropped a gear too, and began to come back at him. The other, an Australian riding for an Italian team, re-gathered her wits and started storming after them. It was going to be close.

Less than half a K to go, and they were all giving it their best. Drew had slowed slightly, then was out of the saddle, head down and in full sprint mode. He was clocking over thirty miles an hour, practically unheard of in most women’s races and more importantly was streaking away. All he had to do was stay on his bike to win. The line was in sight ... then, the nightmare began. His ankle gave way and he crashed, unable to unlock his shoes, he fell heavily with the bike on top of him, he could feel the gravel through the thin clothing he wore, as it shredded against the rough surface. He didn’t see but rather sensed his opponents pass him … he felt awful.

He awoke in a sweat, his ankle throbbed and he guessed he’d moved it awkwardly. He could almost feel the gravel burns from the road surface in his dream, he cursed his luck, he should have won that race, his mother would have done. He and his team had set up the finish to perfection, he shot out like a rocket from the pack. It would have made him a contender for the British Ladies team, they couldn’t keep ignoring him because of his age now. He felt indignation growing inside him, he’d show ‘em.

He rubbed his ankle, feeling the false breasts get in his way through the silk nightdress. Then he remembered, he was a boy or used to be one, he felt himself blush, too many of these dreams saw him racing as a girl. Okay, so he was racing later but this would be the last time, leastways as a girl. So long as he beat Cheeseface, it didn’t matter where he came in the finish.

He reasoned that spending a couple of weeks as a girl had addled his brain, hence the strange dreams. Perhaps it was something in the adhesive on his breasts? Just another day or so, and then they could go home. He’d sleep better in his own bed and without the appendages stuck on his chest.

He was sure that the falsies were causing his own breasts to grow slightly. He reasoned that the weight of them was pulling on his skin and stretching it, causing his nipples and pecs to appear a bit girlish. It was a bit like the fact that sitting on a bike for a long time made your bum get bigger. It was probably just muscle. Okay, so it wobbled a bit, he was still young so it would firm up as he got older, course it would. One day his voice would break and he’d probably have zits, like all the other boys and some of the girls, then he’d get hair on his face and chest, his leg hair would coarsen up and he’d be just a normal guy.

Why was it taking so long? How come his muscle definition was poor compared to Jules’ boyfriend? Although, Gareth, or whatever his name was, was probably more ape than human. He’d need to be to go out with his sister. Mind you, Gareth was a bit older and significantly larger than Drew so had had more time to get muscles. Then there was the advantage of being almost in disguise. If you look like a wimp, people treat you as such. If they do so in a bike race, it’s at their own peril.

Drew looked down at his legs, they were quite attractive legs. Shapely, tanned, smooth and hairless without great nobbles on the knees, they were quite pretty legs … for a girl.

He felt some self-doubt start to filter in, 'Geez, I seem to have girly legs, a squeaky voice, no body hair to speak of, big arse and my tits seem to be growing, I bet this didn’t happen to Lancie boy' The thought of someone as rugged-looking as Lance Armstrong, growing boobs, made him smile.

'Sometimes, I begin to think there’s something wrong with me like I’m turning into Gaby for real, I’m just hypersensitive ‘cos I’m small, if I really was, Maddy or Jules would have said something and Mum or Dad would have had me up the doc, as quick as lightning. Nah, I’m okay,' he said quietly to himself, drifting back off to sleep, safe in his self-denial.

Later that night, or early morning, he dreamt again. He was talking to Mr Bower from Specialized, 'But Mr Bower, I tell you I’m a boy, that’s why I can’t sign up with you.'

'Gaby, if you don’t wanna sign, don’t sign, but don’t gimme that crap about being a boy. I know a boy when I see one, I was one myself fer Godsakes, ‘n’ you ain’t. Now, ya gonna tell me the real reason why you ain’t gonna sign? Not enough money...wrong bikes? C’mon girl, we ain’t got all day!'

Drew woke up, shaking his head, tears rolling down his cheeks, “Why can’t you believe me?” he was sobbing at the American businessman.

“ ‘Cos ya telling me lies….”

“Gabs, you alright?” Maddy was comforting him as he came back to wakefulness, she was holding his hand and rubbing it.

“Wassat?” he blinked and looked at the familiar face before him. “Mad, what you doin’ here?”

“I’m, like, living here too,” she smiled at him.

He sat up with a start, “Where’s Bower gone?”

“Where’s what?” she shook her head, “Gabs, you’ve been dreamin’.”

“What?” then he looked at himself in bed, at his nightdress and Maddy clinging on to him, dressed in hers, “It was a dream?”

“Sure was,” smiled Maddy, she felt his brow, but it was cool, “Brr,” she said, “move over,” and with that climbed into bed with him, they cuddled down together.

Drew told her about his dream, “It was awful. He, like, wouldn’t believe me, that I’m a boy.”

“Don’t worry, girl, I’ll believe you,” said Maddy, chuckling.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied missing the joke completely.

“How’s the broken leg?” she asked.

“I tuned into a spider in the night, it fell off and I grew another one.”

“Won’t that be a problem?” asked Maddy, pretending to be serious.

“What?”

“Riding a bike with six legs?” she said and then giggled.

“Eight,” he said very seriously.

“Ate what?” she said, wiping her eyes.

“Eight legs you dummy, spiders have, like, eight legs.”

“I thought all creepy crawlies have six.”

“What about millipedes?”

“What about millipedes?” Maddy repeated.

“They’ve got millions of legs, well thousands anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“Harry was showing us those boring pix yesterday, he told us about all this stuff.”

“Have you ever counted them?”

“Counted what?”

“A millipedes whatevers?”

“Don’t be stupid, here, what goes ninety-nine bump?”

“A centipede with a wooden leg,” she sat up and blew a raspberry at him, “I fell out of my pram listening to that one.”

“Land on your ‘ead, did you?”

“Gaby Bond, I’ll … I’ll ….” they mock fought in the bed, and she bumped his leg.

“Ouch, geez, that hurt,” he suddenly squealed as she bumped him.

“Oh sorry, Gabs, was that your bad one?”

“Course not,” he laughed, tickled her and limped out of the bedroom as a pillow came flying at him.

He went into the bathroom, his ankle was stiff but not too swollen, the Arnica, Carol had given him to rub in, must have helped more than he thought. It was tender rather than sore. He finished weeing, and quickly washed himself, threw the nightdress back on and slipped downstairs to get the ankle support Matt had left him. It was a real struggle to get on, and it hurt. Once on, however, it helped support the ankle and while it was still tender, he could cope with that for an hour or two. “I’m going to race,” he said with glee, then shouted it to Maddy, she laughed by reply.

It was seven o clock, he phoned Matt, “Matt, you’ll never believe it, but my ankle is okay.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“It’s, like, a bit tender, but I got your support thing on and I can stand or walk or ride on it, no bother.”

“So?”

“Can I still ride the bike?”

“I don’t know, Gaby, I can’t take responsibility for you injuring yourself.”

“Please Matt, you know how important this is to me.”

“I don’t know Gaby.”

“Look come down to the pavilion with the bike and I’ll give it a test run, if it hurts I’ll stop and we’ll scratch.”

“Gaby, once you get on that bloody bike, you won’t get off until you’ve finished the race, I know you too well.”

“I will Matt, I promise, if it hurts, I’ll get off and we stop.”

“I wish I could believe you,” said Matt sadly.

“You sound just like Mr Bower,” pouted Drew.

“When did you speak to him?” the tone in Matt’s voice changed.

Suddenly Drew realised his error, he could tell lies and probably be found out, he could tell the truth and be found out, or he could sort of tell the truth. He chose the last option. “I haven’t, I was thinking about the meal we had with him. He didn’t believe I was only thirteen.”

Drew was partly making it up, but Matt seemed to be accepting it. No need to mention the dream. “I think I recall him saying something about your age, but that was last week. Maybe I was in the loo or something,” said Matt desperately trying to recall what was said, he had had a couple of drinks.

“Yeah, maybe you were in the toilet.”

“So, are you going to sign up with him?”

“Dunno, seeing as I haven’t tested his bike properly, I can’t really can I?”

“Gaby Bond, if you race like you talk, you’ll win this blessed thing. Okay, I’ll bring the bike. I’ll watch you ride, but ... and it’s a big but ... If I decide you aren’t fit, we scratch. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” said Drew.

“See you there,” Matt put the phone down; the kid was certainly a trier.

“Yes,” shrieked Drew, punching the air.

“Whatever is the matter?” called Carol, down the stairs.

“I’m gonna race. Matt says I can race.”

“Oh, how do you know?”

“I just phoned him, he’s bringing the bike.”

“Hadn’t you better sit down and rest that ankle? but put the kettle on first, my mouth’s a little dry.”

They all breakfasted and drank tea, Carol having an extra cup for her dry mouth. Drew nearly commented on her snoring as a likely cause, but thought better of it. At this time, he needed friends not enemies.

He had stuffed down the calories, and when he went to put his skins on, his tummy was bulging a little. He was irritated that the outline of his bra and pants showed through the thin material of the racing outfit. “God, I keep thinking like a girl, who cares if they’re visible?” then he paused, “I do, even if that makes me a girl,” he laughed to himself, “Well I am for another day or so.”

Maddy came to ask him how his ankle was, and they discussed the visible underwear. But the consensus was, there wasn’t much that could be done about it. She encouraged him to do his makeup and nails, helping him with his hair, “You need to look extra girly today. They’ll all be watching you, plus if you beat Cheeseman, it will rub it in,” she chuckled as she said it.

“What d’ya mean, if I beat him? I’m gonna beat him if it kills me,” said Drew with a firmness that belied his feminine appearance.

Going downstairs he tried on the cycle shoes, and his foot and ankle were okay. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, at least, he would be able to get on the bike.

Finally, they were ready, Drew wore a light jacket and jeans over his skins, carrying his helmet, sunglasses, shoes and mitts in a bag. Carol drove them to the Pavilion where assorted groups of people and bicycles were already assembling. Looking around, he saw Cheeseman checking out his Cannondale. “Nice bike, pity about the shit riding it,” muttered Drew under his breath.

They spotted Matt’s van and walked over to it, “Hi Matt,” called Maddy.

“Hello girls,” he chirped back. “Right Gaby, let’s get this over and done.” He pointed at Drew and then at the bike.

Drew sat on the floor and swapped his trainers for cycle shoes. His heart was beating nineteen to the dozen as he walked to the bike, which Tim was holding. Never had his shoes clip-clopped so loudly, his mouth felt dry.

“You’re walking alright, how is the ankle?” asked Tim quietly.

“It’s okay,” said Drew, throwing his leg over the saddle and crossbar. He stood upright, astride his ‘steed’, feeling more nervous than he’d felt the first time he rode the bike.

“Let’s see you do a quick circuit of the car park, and watch out for cars, so keep it easy,” called Matt, looking anxious. He wanted the kid to ride and win, he knew how she felt, and he admired her gutsy courage.

Drew clipped on the shoes, locking his feet to the pedals, his ankle felt tender and stiff. He clicked down a few gears, and then up again, he was happy with the bike, the Campag gears, clicking comfortingly as he changed gears. The tribars were comfortable too. Given the chance, he was going to ride this like a time trial once he got clear of the bunch. He felt good, and his nerves began to ease. By his second lap, he was riding smoothly and felt confident his ankle would be okay, he pulled back into the space by the van.

“Well?” said Matt, looking poker-faced.

“She goes very well,” said Drew.

“I know the bike goes okay, that wasn’t what I was asking.”

“Oh, the ankle, yeah, I’d nearly forgotten about that. It’s fine, like, it’s gonna be okay,” said Drew with a smile which hid the uncertainty he felt inside.

“What d’you think Tim? shall we let her borrow the bike?” said Matt to his partner.

“Dunno Matt, ankle injuries are pretty nasty,” he replied, winking to his friend as he watched Drew’s face drop.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, better put it back in the van then.”

“No, you can’t do this to me. Please, I’ve got to race this bike,” pleaded Drew almost in tears.

“I don’t know, Gaby, but there is one way I might be able to let you borrow it.”

“Anything, please just tell me.”

“I’ll need a rental deposit.”

“What? How much?” Drew was still on the verge of tears.

“We normally ask for a fifty pound deposit and a rental fee of a tenner a day.”

“Auntie Carol, have we got sixty pounds?”

“Gaby, that is based upon our usual rental bikes, which aren’t very valuable. This one is priceless.”

“Well, how much do you want?”

“We’d need the equivalent of a mortgage.”

“What do you mean?”

“This bike cost a hundred grand, plus the value of the wheels and gears. I’d need to ask about fifty thousand.”

“How much?”

“Fifty grand, sorry.”

“But I need to ride that bike.”

“I know kid, I know.”

“But yesterday, you were going to lend it to me for nothing.”

“Yesterday, before you injured yourself, you were a smaller liability.”

“This isn’t fair,” said Drew with the tears welling up in his eyes.

“You agree the bike is priceless?”

“Of course I do.”

“So we need a priceless deposit.”

“But I can’t afford it.”

“Maybe we could compromise.”

“Like how?”

“What d’you think Tim?” said Matt winking at his friend.

“Yeah, just this once though,” his mate replied, his eyes creasing slightly as he held back a smile.

“Okay missy, here’s what we’ll do,” Drew stood nodding, his eyes pleading to ride the bike, as he gave his complete attention to every word Matt said. “I’ll need your promise to look after this valuable piece of equipment.”

“Yes, I promise,” said Drew emphatically.

“And …” Matt winked again at Tim and Carol, “… and a kiss to seal the deal.”

Drew flung himself at Matt and kissed him on the cheek, then he did the same to Tim. Both men and Carol were laughing. “If you could have seen your face Gaby,” said Carol.

“But I needed the bike,” said Drew, wiping tears of relief from his face.

“The bike was never in doubt, young lady, these two were just having a tease.”

“I think you are rotten Matt, but I need the bike,” said Drew, taking a firm hold of the Specialized.

“Sorry Gaby, I couldn’t resist it.”

“You wouldn’t have done that if I was a boy,” said Drew, looking quickly at Maddy, who suppressed a smirk.

“No, I guess we wouldn’t,” said Matt, blushingly slightly as the feminist card was played, “but then you’re not, are you?”

“Just for that, I’m going to try and win this stupid race, just to show you girls are as good as boys.”

Matt glanced quickly at Tim, thinking, 'Nothing like a wind-up to get the adrenalin going.' What he said was, “Actions speak louder than words, Gaby, You show us what you can do. Tell you what, you win this race and you can keep the wheelset.”

“What? A Campag, like, wheelset, ace.”

“If you win, we’ll fit ‘em to the other bike.”

“Kewel,” said Drew, almost squeaking with joy. If there had ever been any doubt about his commitment, it was over now. He was going to do his damnedest to win this race, if it killed him.

The registrations were completed, bikes were checked and eventually the riders were called to the start point. The Mayor of Weymouth and Portland waved them off amidst lots of clicking cameras, and a local TV news crew.

This race was better organised than the charity one had been. There was a police car leading the riders, with a motorcycle outrider. Drew was very impressed, it was like riding in a professional race. The problem was, it attracted over a hundred riders, and brought out the crowds.

Crowds and bicycles are not a good combination, pedestrians are stupider than drivers, and tend to stand or wander in front of a peloton. The consequences are unfortunate to say the least, and it so happened before the riders had even cleared the Esplanade.

An old lady, who seemed unable to understand the crowds lining the sea front, stepped through them and straight in front of a rider, who swerved and altogether about twenty riders, went down like dominoes. Amazingly, none of them hit the old lady, but a member of the crowd grabbed her and screamed at her, causing her to collapse with a heart attack.

Thankfully, Drew missed this incident. He had managed to find Cheeseman, who’d got a stronger start, and was tracking him. Apart from his enemy, he noticed there were some clubs racing together, so he’d need to watch for blockers and catchers, especially if he made a break for it.

They proceeded along in an easterly direction, coming eventually to a long climb from Preston up towards Osmington. This was the first real test, and a few minutes into the hill, gears were being clicked down and riders were out of saddles. To Drew, it was very helpful.

What counts on hills is weight. Being about the youngest, smallest and lightest, with a very lightweight cycle, Drew was simply cruising up the hill. He followed the leaders of the peloton, who were now starting to break away from the rest of the struggling field.

Cheeseman was a strong rider. Drew respected this, and wanted to stay just behind him, keeping his options open. He followed Cheeseman, who was out of his saddle, squeezing between riders, occasionally, putting on a spurt to mark his man. Drew was in his element, loving every minute of it.

By the time, they reached Poxwell (pronounced Pokeswell), there was a leading group of some twenty riders, with clear daylight between them and the rest of the field. They turned towards Dorchester, going through Broadmayne. “I know where I am now,” said Drew to himself, as they sped down the hill at speeds in excess of fifty miles an hour. A long pull up the other side of the ridge and a couple of ups and downs, before cresting into Dorchester.

Here, they were led down the bypass. The road surface is quite rough, and Drew felt the vibrations through his arms despite the phatt tape on the handlebars. Round the roundabout on the main Dorchester – Weymouth road, and up the bypass towards Monkey’s Jump.

The road began to climb towards the next roundabout, and its attendant burger bar and several riders attempted a breakaway, Cheeseman went with them, followed by his shadow, but, at the roundabout, they were caught by the rest of the group, and the politics of the peloton resumed.

As they rode along the A35 towards Winterbourne Abbas, a road which Drew had ridden, he knew it was another long pull, with some steep undulations on a bend. Drew, considered it was a good attacking place, especially as it rises steeply before it goes down again into the village. At this point, he was simply staying with Cheeseman. It was too soon to try anything himself.

His prediction was correct, three riders did try to break off, but were caught and brought back by the rest. Drew was impressed by the way the group protected itself, this was going to be a sprint finish and he doubted he’d beat many of this lot, they were too good.

Despite the hills, they were averaging over the even twenty. Past Winterbourne, they made a left up a narrower road towards Portesham. Once again Drew knew where he was, and the steep hill down into the village after the long climb up. It’s a dangerous hill with a road junction beyond it, and the coast road between Weymouth and Bridport.

His caution paid off, at an alarming speed of descent, two riders collided and were thrown off their bikes, bouncing and rolling down the road. Drew just managed to miss clipping one of the fallen cycles, and then its rider was bleeding from several wounds.

Two others were less lucky, and joined the injured as they crashed into bikes or prostrate riders. No one had been killed, but several broken bones had been sustained.

The leaders now a group of fifteen, another having dropped out with a puncture, zoomed down the through the village, and left onto the coast road.
Knowing the road ahead, Drew decided he would take Cheeseman on the climb back towards Weymouth, near the turn off for Langton Herring. Until then it was simply a case of staying with him, and the rest of the group.

As the sun rose, so it got warmer and the effort was beginning to tell on some of the riders. Cheeseman and Drew moved up through the field. They were now seventh and eighth, respectively.

The speed picked up as they moved down the hill towards the switchback near Langton Herring. Drew bided his time. From here it was mostly downhill to the Pavilion, just a bit of a rise by Chickerell, otherwise, downhill. He knew this road, he also knew Cheeseman would, too.

They approached the make-or-break point for Drew. Cheeseman began clicking down a gear as they started to climb. Drew attacked. Out of the saddle and sprinting up the hill, Drew broke out of the pack and continued to pull away.

“Puff … puff, did you see that? A turbocharged Barbie doll” said one rider to his companion.

“Oh,” said the other, “I thought I was seeing things.”

At the top of the hill, Drew, himself panting deeply, tucked down on the tribars and flew along down through Knights in the Bottom (yes, there is such a place). In hot pursuit, running on pure hatred was Cheeseman, he could not believe he’d been ‘Gaby-ed’ again.

Downhill, his weight would help him, just as it had hindered his climbing, and despite Drew clocking well over thirty miles an hour as he came along the level, Cheeseman was catching him.

Sporadic cheers were heard as they passed onlookers, but Drew was only hearing his own inner voice telling him to “keep going, whatever happens.”

As he crested the rise near Chickerell, at the roundabout by the famous Moonfleet Manor Hotel, Cheeseman was only yards behind him. Both were tiring but determined to beat the other. Drew held the lead, just, as they powered along Chickerell road, and down into Abbotsbury road. As they flew down the junction by Radipole and along King street, there was little between them.

The crowd was screaming in excitement, roars of, “Come on, Gaby,” and, ”Go for it Ronnie,” assailed both riders ears, but neither really heard it.

Back on to the Esplanade and the final half kilometre. Could Drew hang on? He knew Cheeseman was right on his tail, he waited another fifty yards, and went for broke. He cranked down a gear and began to sprint. Cheeseman responded. Neither saw the 4x4 parked on the road across from them. Neither saw the driver gun the motor at them, clipping Drew’s rear and Cheeseman’s front wheel, before it screamed around and headed off eastwards.

Drew felt the sickening crunch, and the sensation of flying, then the awful shock of hitting the ground and his body rolling on the sand of the beach. Cheeseman felt nothing, his head hit the car on collision and it was his unconscious body which bounced and rolled along the road with splinters of his bike.

Drew was conscious and trying to stand as onlookers rushed to help, “You alright love?” asked one of them.

“Where’s my bike. Matt will kill me,” was all he could say in his shocked state. The frame was broken clean in half. He stooped and picked up both parts. He walked up the slope from the beach. An ambulance crew was attending to the fallen Cheeseman.

“How is he?” asked Drew pushing through the crowd.

An ambulance man looked up at him and shook his head. Drew walked on in a daze towards the finishing line. The accident had closed the road to all traffic, including the riders.

Matt and Tim were running towards him, as he limped along with the broken cycle. He walked past them, he was going to finish if it killed him. Two minutes of pain later, he crossed the line and collapsed into Matt's arms, muttering apologies for breaking his bike.

He came around with a start in the back of an ambulance, his head throbbed, but he could still feel his arms and legs, so he would be okay, he saw Carol and Matt standing behind the paramedic, and burst into tears.

“It’s the shock,” said the paramedic quietly.

“Matt, I am so sorry, I broke your bike,” Carol went to console him and hugged him.

“It’s okay Gaby, it’s only a bike,” said Matt, “It can be replaced, unlike its rider. Girl, that was some race, and you were the only finisher.”

“How is Cheeseman?” asked Drew, looking over Carol’s shoulder.

“He didn’t make it,” said Matt, staring at the ground.

“Did I win?” asked the tearful Drew.

“Yes, Gabs, you won.”

“It wasn’t worth it, was it?”

“Yes and no.” answered Matt.

“That was Meadows, wasn’t it?”

“That’s for the police to decide.”

“It was cold-blooded murder, and I was the target.” Drew began to shake as he realised this fact. “Where’s Maddy? Is she alright?”

“She’s fine, she’s with Tim.”

“I want to see her.”

“You need to go to hospital for a check-up.”

“I need to see Mad.” Drew with surprising strength, pushed past the others in the ambulance and walked out into the pavilion forecourt. He was greeted by a huge roar.

“Are you alright young lady?” asked an official, “We’re not sure what’s happening about a prize, as you were the only finisher, we had to stop the race after the accident.”

“That was no accident,” said Drew, “Mad, where are you?”

“I’m here, Gabs,” said Maddy rushing to engulf him in one of her huge hugs. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Cheeseman’s dead.”

“I know Mad, I know, that bastard Meadows did it. I’m sure it was the same car that ran me into the lake.”

“Gaby, are you alright?” the voice belonged to Harry, who ran up to hug Drew, followed by William, “Tell me you’re okay. I was so worried.”

“I’m okay,” said Drew as Harry, nearly crushed him to death with a hug, and then held on to him.

“I was so frightened I’d never see you again,” spluttered the boy, crying with joy that the object of his affections, had survived.

Cameras clicked, recording the emergence from the ambulance of the heroine of the race. It was a good story by any account, a young girl winning against the odds, riding a super bike. Add a tragic end, plus a heinous crime and Fleet Street will be begging for copy.

Gaby was now a national heroine, captured by the local tv crew and flashed across the world on news bulletins. Gaby was now an international figure. Drew had no idea, how a little race in a small seaside town, could have such earth-shattering consequences, but he would ….

The End ... of Book One.