AA Lock, stock and barrel 2

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.

Josephine checked her appearance one last time in the hall mirror then closed and locked the front door as she left to visit The Drover’s Arms Hotel.

‘A daughter,’ she mused as she picked her way along the country lane as the rain persisted. ‘A transgendered daughter, no less!’

Multiple thoughts raced through her brain as she tried to imagine a female version of her son Digby.

‘Would she be tall?’ She asked herself. ‘After all he would most likely have gone through a male puberty; but then, she had absolutely no idea of what had happened to him after he had run away. Seventeen years without a word, not a whisper.

‘Would she resemble her other daughters like their father or would she resemble me? As Digby had done when as a child.’ So many questions so much to find.

“Oooh come on lights!” She fumed impatiently as she arrived at the main road where the traffic lights accorded priority to the major road.

Finally the much-anticipated green light invited her forward and it was but another five minutes before she was parking her car in the rear hotel carpark.
Moments later she peered nervously first into the lounge then into the public bar before finally locating the door under the stairs that led to the cosy little secluded ‘snug’ where a notice declared there to be a private function in progress. Cautiously, she stepped past the reception desk then peeped through the little courtesy window and recognised her oldest daughter Lucinda sitting in one of the wing-backed, cushioned leather chairs. Simultaneously Lucinda spotted her mother’s face through the little diamond panel of glass and she quickly smiled encouragement.

Still a bit unsure of her reception, Josephine opened the door slowly and peered around until she spotted an unfamiliar but somehow familiar face.

“Digby?” She hazarded a guess, though fairly certain it was him.

The tall, smartly suited woman stood up and stepped out of the other wingback chair then picked her way past her sisters with arms slightly extended. Not quite a widespread offer of an embrace for uncertainty was the watchword.

“Mummy?” The woman offered.

Lost a bit for words, Josephine simply stepped into the opened arms and forced herself into an embrace by wrapping her arms around the woman.

“What did you say your new name was?” She whispered guiltily. “I’m so beset, I forgot.”

“Isabel Mummy.” She whispered back as she reciprocated the hug.

The embrace continued as Josephine’s tears started to flow, so to give support to their mother, the four younger sisters formed a group hug around the pair. Eventually, Josephine recovered her composure and the questions started.

“So what’s your full name now?”

“Isabel; - Isabel Jane Thorpe. I kept the family name.”

“And a bloody good job she did or I would never have found her.” Marjorie declared.

Josephine paused to face Marjorie.

“So why did you go looking for her?”

“My father helped Edward write his will, but since my dad died, I’ve been the company solicitor.”

“When Mr Thorpe had his stroke, I opened the will in my capacity as both the family and company solicitor then I realised that there was scope for confusion and conflict. I also learned that Edward Thorpe did not have much time to live and if Digby had learned of his father’s death after the will had been executed, there was huge scope for contention and litigation.

After his stroke, I tried getting Edward to explain his wishes and be more explicit but the brain haemorrhage had taken away his speech and left him seriously confused. There is also a rider to the will that it wasn’t to be shown to the family until after his death. I was in a quandary and Edward was sinking fast. I didn’t have much time. I went to court and the judges agreed with me that the best solution was to try and find Digby Thorpe

Whether as Digby or Isabel, she’s still the firstborn child and the will clearly states first-born or oldest child. It does not say daughter or son.

Being as I knew that you and Edward had once had a son, I was bound by law to make every reasonable effort to locate him.”

“How did you find him; - or more correctly her?” Josephine pressed.

Marjorie turned to Isabel. “Can I tell her?”

“Be my guest. It doesn’t matter anymore.” Isabel shrugged.

So Marjorie weighed in.

“We were besties at school and Digby once admitted to me that he thought he might be gay. I told him he couldn’t be because he preferred girls company. I told him gays only like other gays but that confused him even more. He couldn’t understand how he was so effeminate but he liked girls. I’m afraid I was confused about it too., we were just kids back then.

We were trying to research gay stuff when his dad beat him up and he left home. I always thought his dad was cruel to do that.”

Marjorie paused then added.

“Oh! And I used ‘he’ because he was a boy then. I call her ‘she’ now.”

Isabel smiled and nodded softly to Marjorie.

“Thanks for that Marge, seriously, that’s nice.”

Marjorie continued explaining how she located Isabel.

“Well I started out searching gay sites but when I had no luck I went to the gay village in Manchester. That was a pure stroke of luck and there was an LGBT office down there who suggested that Isabel might not be gay.

They went on to explain about transvestism, then transgenderism and I had a sort of Epiphany. One of the staff knew of a transgender girl named Thorpe, who owned a bar in the village. They described her and gave me some background and I concluded that the drag queen on the posters outside the bar might well be her.

She was a busy girl though and somewhat reluctant to talk. Lots of transgender people are reluctant to describe their life journeys and Isabel was no exception. She didn’t trust me at first and when I finally arranged a meeting she had one of her doorkeepers attend the meeting.

She thought I was some sort of protectionist, mobster moll at first. Eventually I got through to her and explained about her father’s will.”

Marjorie turned to Isabel to check if it was okay to continue. Isabel nodded assent so the lawyer pressed on.

“At first, Isabel wasn’t interested. She still hadn’t forgiven her father and now she had a very successful enterprise in the gay village. I explained that it mattered not what Isabel felt, the will was quite explicit. Whether she liked it or not, the factory went to her after Edward died and there wasn’t much time.

That’s when I learned that Isabel also now had her fingers in a few other pies. She was the main shareholder in several small enterprises operated by her transgendered sisters in and around Manchester. They were not large businesses but they were relatively successful and above all, growing.

Isabel couldn’t just leave her interests in Manchester at the drop of a hat. She had to reorganise her appointments and by the time she was able to come up here, Edward her father had died. She explained that she would come up for the will reading then leave it to you four sisters to sort out any mess associated with the inheritance. I told her that it was more complex than that. Despite Edward owning the vast majority of the shares, there were other minor shareholders including Josephine and the bank going way back.

There would have to be a shareholder’s meeting even it was just to rubber-stamp your decisions.”

The room fell silent as the sisters tried to grasp the implications while Josephine turned to Isabel.

“What are you going to do?”

Isabel shrugged before replying.

“First thing first, I’ll have to check the accounts to see how healthy the business is.”

After a nervous pause the older sister Lucinda asked.

“Could you run the business; I mean if you’ve got places in Manchester and you understand accounts, you don’t have to be a welder to run the factory. The men do that.”

“It’s not off the table.” Isabel replied thoughtfully. “I’ll have to see the books and meet the work force. More importantly, I’ll need to have my father’s personal books to contact his customer base.”

“They’ll be either in his office at the factory or in his study at his apartment.” Lucinda replied.

Isabel turned to her mother Josephine.

“I suppose the old homestead’s gone then is it, since you two got divorced.”

“No.” Lucinda interrupted, “Mum still lives at the house with Veronica and Jackie.”

“Oh!” Isabel exclaimed. “I’d have thought that with the bad family memories, divorce and all that; you’d have sold it and moved on.”

“No. I like the house and I like the location,” Josephine replied, “and my family memories were not that bad until you and your father fell out.”

“Sorry,” Isabel replied in a flat tone that implied her disinterest and disconnection. “It was leave and stay sane or remain and die. I had no choice.”

“You’ve got choices now.” Abigail interjected. “The house is still there and there’s plenty of room. You can come back.”

“I don’t think so.” Isabel demurred, “I’ve got too much going on in Manchester, both with business and what little time I have for social life.”

“Are you telling us you’re like daddy?” Veronica asked. “All work, work, work and no play. No time ever for family; but then, I suppose you’ll never have a family.”

“Veronica!!” Josephine almost shrieked. “That was cruel!”

Isabel did not respond. For the time being she had no cause to reveal that she shared a life with a sympathetic bisexual partner who had born her two children before Isabel had transitioned. They lived in the same luxury apartment block in the centre of Manchester, next door to each other on the same floor.

The children, now of junior school age, lived happily alternating daily if not hourly between apartments. There had even been talk of conjoining the apartments until a building check revealed that a doorway between the apartments might have compromised the structure of the block and affected fire separation rules.

Isabel concluded there would be time enough to reveal her little family when she knew more about everybody’s feelings. Though so far she had been more than pleasantly surprised.

After discovering that their recently found sibling was truly a rare find who might even yet serve the sisters by keeping the business within the family and continuing to provide income; the mood in the room sweetened considerably.

For Josephine, the share-out from the will was immaterial. She had received her portion of the estate when she and Edward had divorced but nevertheless, Josephine was still relieved that there was now another option for her daughters. And it was an option that would serve to keep Josephine’s brood around her.

For the rest of the evening, the family transferred back to the old family home where they discussed various ideas about going forward.

Even if Isabel chose to remain in Manchester she would still have to attend at the factory if she were to take control and Josephine presumed that Isabel would at least call on her mother when she drove up for weekly or fortnightly meetings.

For Lucinda the oldest daughter, a load was lifted off her mind when she realised she would not have to shoulder the burden of running the factory or selling it and sharing the proceeds. She was married but her husband had shown no interest in the factory while her father Edward was alive. He worked for the administration in the local authority and had shown little ambition once he had a secure tenure.

The thought of sharing a decent dividend without having to do much to earn it, gave Lucinda a secure sense of satisfaction.

Abigail, the second natal daughter had just finished university and the annual dividend would serve to speedily repay back her university loan. Then she would be free to spread her wings.

The same liberties now became available to Veronica and Jacqueline who, while now at university, would live to enjoy their college years without fear of student poverty.

All in all, the family were happy.

The sisters decided to stay over at the family home that night for there was a lot to catch up although they were disappointed that Isabel had decided to overnight at her hotel room at the Drovers Public House.

“Waste not, want not,” Isabel declared. “The room is paid for and the breakfast is included. I’ll not waste it by cancelling. Money doesn’t grow on trees.”

The sisters and there mother watched with mild disappointment as Isabel dashed across the forecourt of their old family home and clambered into her car as the rain had returned with a vengeance.

“So, what do you make of her?”
Josephine asked almost rhetorically.

ooo000ooo

AA Lock Stock and Barrel 3

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.

When Isabel reached the Drover’s Arms Hotel, the rain had really started to turn it on. When she pulled into the old coaching yard, she was really grateful that somebody had just vacated a customer parking space right next to the rear door of the hotel.

It was but two steps to reach the shelter of the rear porch and she stood
Giggling to herself as the first crash of thunder resounded around the valley where the town nestled. This prompted her to get inside quickly and collect her room key from reception. As she collected her key she spied that the public bar had a pleasant log fire and it being mid-week, the room was almost empty.

On seeing that the lounge was completely empty and that there was no fire in the hearth; the room looked cold and inhospitable she chose the bar.

She decided to have a nightcap before retiring to bed.

Having never returned to her hometown since running away at an early age, Isabel had never drunk in the bar of the Drover’s and although she was truly worldly wise to the conventions of a large cosmopolitan city like Manchester, she had rarely encountered the somewhat constrained norms of small Northumbrian pit villages.

A single woman breezing into the public bar was a rare event that rustic men often took to be a sign of availability. The click of dominoes went momentarily silent at the table in the front window and all heads turned to stare at the exotic vision now standing at the bar. Even the single guy sitting at the bar stopped to stare.

Isabel quickly realised she was inviting unwanted interest if she remained so she ordered her small, white wine and soda then promptly took the seat by the hearth and facing the fire with her back turned to the others in the bar. It was a clear message that she did not want to invite interest. Her plan was to drink the small white wine.

She had barely finished her first brief sip and was staring thoughtfully into the fire when the inevitable shadow loomed over the back of her chair.

“You’re not from round here then love.”

She gave a slight wag of her head and the briefest flicker of a smile to indicate disinterest. She did not want to appear rude but, like so many men; even the slightest response would somehow invoke the misapprehension that a lady, alone in a pub bar, might be ‘up for it.’

Isabel resumed staring into the flames while twisting her glass slowly in her hand when he decided to try and press his suite.

“Where you up for the funeral like?”

Again, she gave the slightest wag of her head and took another tiny sip of her wine before returning her gaze to the flames.

“Sad business mind.” He tried the alternative tactic of trying to pique her curiosity.

His tactic worked but not the way he had hoped, Isabel replied somewhat patronisingly.

“I believe funerals usually are.”
“Yes. Sad business for the town as well.”

Isabel suddenly realised she might learn some useful information about the factory if she chose to listen. Men often liked to talk about stuff they felt they knew something about so Isabel intimated that she might be prepared to listen.

“The town you say; why, has there been some sort of disaster or something?”

“Well, sort of. The old man who used to run the factory was buried yesterday and they’re in a bit of a quandary. My name’s Pete by the way.”

Without asking, he took the other wing-back chair on the other side of the wide ‘inglenook’ fireplace.

“Quandary?” Isabel raised an interested eyebrow whilst not reciprocating the name favour.

“Nobody seems to know what’s going to happen and the family seem to be keeping their plans close to their chest.”

“What does the town think?”

“They’re afraid the family will sell up and the work will go abroad. China like.”

“That would be bad for the town I suppose.”

“Catastrophic,” Pete finished. “There’s no other work. Newcastle’s the nearest other work and there’s not much there.”

“That’s sad.” Isabell finished her drink and stood. “Well I’m sorry to learn about it but I’ve got to go to bed. Nice talking to you, goodnight.”

The abruptness of her departure finally put across the massage. Isabel was not interested or ‘available.’ The domino players chuckled softly at Pete’s failure and he returned to the bar to finish his drink.

“Bombed out Pete?”

“Nah, she’s nou’t but a toffee-nosed snob.”

ooo000ooo

Before dawn Isabel was met by a blanket of snow as she prepared to meet with Marjorie and inspect the factory at first light. She ate a full breakfast alone then drove to Marjorie’s cottage that stood on the same lane as Josephine’s family house. She debated calling on her mother but it was not yet seven o’clock and she wanted to see the factory as soon as possible. Marjorie was waiting by her garden gate as Isabel’s four-by-four arrived scrunching through the pristine snow.

“Brrr! That’s a lazy wind.” Marjorie grinned as she gratefully savoured the heat of the car.”

“Tis ever thus in Northumberland,” Isabel agreed as she turned the car and headed back to the town. The old expression ‘Lazy wind’ was well known to Northumbrians. The wind went through you not around you.

They arrived as some of the workforce were shovelling impacted snow away from the gate where the snowplough had set the snow up to form a barrier. Then Isabel recognised Pete from the previous evening as he stepped forward. Pete immediately recognised Marjorie as the company secretary then he looked askance at Isabel.

“You’re the lady from the Drover’s, last night.”

Isabel smiled and nodded.

“Oh. Don’t get out. We’ll have the gateway cleared and then we’ll clear the yard with our JCB. Can you back up to let the JCB out?”

Isabel did as requested and the work was soon completed. Marjorie took the office keys from her handbag and handed them to Isabel in a demonstratively, ceremonial manner that left the men wondering who the other woman was.

“She’s a bit of alright,” One of the men remarked to Pete as they all watched the pair enter the office.”

“Wonder what she wants.”

“I dunno,” Pete replied’ “but she’s obviously here on business. Did you see the way Marjorie’s dancing attendance.”

“You’re the union man, you should find out.”

“Let’s not be hasty. I’m sure she’ll tell us in good time. Go and put the bloody kettle on, I’m freezing after shovelling the snow.”

In the office, Isabel was doing exactly the same; switching the heating on and making some tea.

“What time do the office staff arrive?” Isabel asked.

“Ted often came in at seven but the girls Madge and Betty alternate to come in for eight.”

“So I’ve got an hour to check the books.”

“They’re actually quite healthy. The patented parts production line produces a steady income stream then the repair and maintenance side comprises the seasonal work and emergency repairs.”

“Let’s look at the order book first.”

Marjorie took the book from the fireproof locker behind Betty’s desk and Isabel turned back the pages for the past month. After half an hour, Isabel nodded with satisfaction then next looked at the customer book.

“Pretty good. I see dad ran things pretty well.”

“He did, but it’s the girls Betty and Madge who keep the records in order. Speaking of whom, here’s Betty now.”

For a moment Isabel looked up and hardly recognised the fortyish Betty as she paused in the doorway and frowned to see a woman in her early thirties trespassing at old Mr Thorpe’s desk. Marjorie quickly stepped into view from beside the fire-proof locker.

“Aah. Morning Betty, this lady is Ms Isabel Thorpe.”

“Good morning,” Betty replied somewhat frostily as she directed her question to Marjorie, “and she is here as -?”

“Ms Thorpe is the new Managing director.” Marjorie explained.

“Managing director? I would have thought that job might have gone to one of Eddie’s daughters. Lucinda for instance. She was always the lead horse.”

‘Here comes crunch time.’ Isabel surmised.

“Lucinda wasn’t too keen to take the job on.” Marjorie explained as she knowingly tried to make Isabel’s transgender revelation marginally easier. “She wanted to sell the business and split the proceeds between her and her sisters.”

“That would have broken Eddie’s heart.” Betty observed. “He always wanted the business to remain in the family’s hands.”

“I know.” Marjorie agreed.

Betty sighed.

“He never forgave himself for causing that boy of his, Digby to run away. It’s a pity he wasn’t as thoughtful of his own flesh and blood as he was of his own workforce.”

“Well, that’s water over the dam now. We are going to just have to press on. Isabel here has a lot of experience in business and manufacturing. She’s promised to see what she can make of the business.”

Betty studied the woman who seemed more interested in the books than the conversation. Finally she felt forced to ask:-

“Thorpe you say. So you’ve got the same sir-name as Eddy. I’m presuming then that your some sort of relative. A niece perhaps or a younger cousin.”

Isabel decided to take the bull by the horns for in truth she was truly curious to see how the revelation would go down in a small Northumbrian pit town.

She was not afraid, for Isabel had crossed enough Rubicons and fought enough wars to be inured to any sort of transphobia. She looked up from the books and stared directly into Betty’s eyes.

“I am his oldest daughter actually; previously I was his son Digby.”

ooo000ooo

AA Lock Stock And Barrel 4

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.
Betty Edward Thorpe’s secretary.
Pete Machine shop supervisor.

As Isabel returned to check some information in the book she had open on the desk before her, Betty’s jaw sagged then worked soundlessly as the older secretary struggled to digest the shocking news.

“Digby!!?”

Isabel nodded without even looking up while Betty’s jaw continued working soundlessly like a stranded fish.

Marjorie smiled to herself as she finished making the tea and gently tapped Betty’s wrist to hand her the cup.

“Here take this. It’s as you usually like it, I presume you haven’t changed.”

“Wha -? Oh yes; thanks, I need this!”

Betty took a sip then eventually sat in her own chair and carefully placed the cup on her desk before finally recovering her composure.

“You’re Digby! Eddy’s son; Eddy’s little inventor.”

“That’s what he called me though he stole my patents.”

“Yes, yes. I remember that, but you were too young to hold title to a patent.”

“But I wasn’t; was I?”

Isabel finally looked up again as she nodded affirmation. “Yes, yes you were. You have to be over eighteen.”

“No Betty. That’s not true. My dad bullshitted you all, and nobody bothered to check.”

“What!?”

“He lied. Any individual can hold a patent for his or her invention. I’ve checked it out. That’s the beauty of computers and the internet.
A kid called Samuel Thomas Houghton aged five, received a patent for a sweeping device with two heads in 2008.
I was thirteen when I invented the multiple scullers to stop grain getting stuck as dust blocked the filters.”

“If that’s true Isabel, the company owes you money. Can you prove it?” Marjorie observed.

“The only proof I’ve got was Jed Larson the fabrication shop foreman. He showed me how to operate the plate hammer to shape the sections. Then he showed me how to cut and shape the twisted scullers.

It was me that worked out the optimum shape and pitch for the cornucopia end outlet. I even fashioned the crooked horn so the separated dust emitted at one angle and speed, while the heavier grain settled in the collecting boxes. And it was all self-operated by the normal air flow in the pipes. No extra fans or electric motors so no sparks and less fire risk.
Is Jed still working for us?”

“No, but he lives in the village.”

“Well, go and ask him, he helped me install the first one to the end of a discharge pipe one weekend. I only worked when dad and the men weren’t in the shop to avoid causing any trouble or holdups.”

“How come Jed worked at weekends?”

“He didn’t, he just lived in the old caretakers apartment at the end of the yard. He used to let me in on Saturdays cos it was company for him and he was interested. We often shared a cup of tea over the forge.

I liked old Jed and he didn’t rib me for being effeminate. Once he realised I was into engineering he wouldn’t have cared if I’d have turned up in a bloody ballerina’s tutu. Now, after I’ve completed these books, I’ll give the factory a tour, then I’ll call in on Jed before going home to Manchester.”

“Are your seriously thinking of keeping the works going?” Betty pressed.

“Well if these books are right, I’d be a fool not to. I’ll have to check out the works though. See what needs to be done to upgrade anything or improve efficiency.”

ooo000ooo

For the next hour, Isabel continued going through the books and only paused briefly when the second Secretary Pauline arrived to start work. She realised something was afoot when she saw the strange lady giving the books a thorough going over and she cast a concerned look towards Betty. Betty just gave her a cautioning look to suggest Pauline keep silent and Pauline took the hint. She settled quietly at her own desk to start the weekly wages accounts.

Eventually Isabel closed the last book and stretched to ease her back as Marjorie returned the tomb to the fireproof cupboard.

“Good morning young lady. Sorry I didn’t acknowledge you when you arrived, I was concentrating on the figures. You’ll be young Pauline then; Betty has mentioned you.”

“Yes, I’m Pauline. Were the figures okay.”

“Yes, they were very good. I’m Isabel by the way and I used to be Mr Thorpe’s son before I transitioned. Betty tells me you do most of the accounting. Are your training to become an accountant?”

“I go to night school and I’m learning to use a computer.”

“Good. I use one in my other factory; this place could do with one.”

Isabel stood up and motioned to Betty and Marjorie.

“Well, cup of tea first then I think it’s time for a tour of the floor; hopefully, we’ll be back for lunch.”

“I don’t know much about the manufacturing side,” Marjorie confessed.

“No but the men will look askance if I just appear alone and out of the blue. You and Betty are at least more familiar faces and that’ll break the ice.”

As they drank their tea, Betty and Pauline kept stealing embarrassed glances towards Isabel but both were too afraid to cross the barrier and actually broach the subject of transgenderism. Instead, they clumsily offered observations about the factory, the workforce and what to expect. Isabel recognised exactly what the girls were doing, namely trying to prepare Isabel for any untoward comments. Eventually, Marjorie broke the tension and stood up to start the workshop tour.

“I know the men are curious, especially the machine-shop supervisor Pete. He’s the union shop steward.”

“Yes. Coincidentally, we met last night in the Drover’s Arms Hotel. He gave me the once over when I arrived this morning at the factory gates.”

“Did he recognise you?”

“I don’t know and truth to tell, I don’t care. I’ll just get my safety shoes and an overall from my car boot.”

Betty and Marjorie dug out some clean overalls and stouter safety shoes from the stores then met Isabel in the yard. Naturally, all eyes turned when the trio entered the workshop in PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) and Isabel led them straight to the receiving bays where raw materials were delivered.

As Isabel led the girls around it became obvious that she knew her way intimately through the processes and even stopped occasionally to inspect some activity. Then she would take out her notebook and amend her notes. The men were accustomed to visitors coming ang going without talking much because the noise of the presses and hammers obliterated any speech.

Naturally, Isabel would smile and occasionally chat to some of the older men whom she recognised from her boyhood but all in all, the visit amounted to a slow progress as though a royal tour. As Isabel had forecast, the visit was over by lunch time and she left a note advising all section supervisors that there was to be a meeting after lunch.

“I’m popping out with Marjorie to visit my mother and any sisters left at home. I know some of them will be back at their own families by now, but it would discourteous of me to leave without saying goodbye. After this afternoon’s meeting, I’ll be returning directly to Manchester.

As Isabel and Marjorie left in their own cars, Betty braced herself for an invasion by the supervisors.

ooo000ooo

Pete as the union convenor, was the first to arrive followed by a curious but not hostile following of senior supervisors.

“Who was she Betty?” Pete asked.

“She’s somebody interested in the factory.”

“Is the factory closing?” Another voice asked.

“I don’t think so,” Betty opined non-committedly.

“Have the family told you anything? We haven’t seen anybody since old man Thorpe died.”

“I’m sure Miss Lucinda will inform you as and when a decision has been made,”

Pete asked again.

“That lady who was here, is she acting for a potential buyer?

“No. Definitely not. I can assure you she is not acting for any third party. I’m sure she’ll be revealing stuff this afternoon so please boys, out of my office with your greasy work boots.”

The supervisors left muttering uncertainly amongst themselves while Isabel and Marjorie pulled into the driveway of Josephine’s home.

“Hello mummy, I’m back, are my sisters here?”

“Hello darling. Abigail’s gone home but Lucinda and Veronica are helping to sort out some old family stuff. They’re upstairs. Jacqueline’s gone to Newcastle. There’s an open day for prospective students.”

“It’s mostly Lucinda I want but Veronica’s welcome. I’ve organised a meeting with the men at the factory.”
“Oh. That was quick. What’s the meeting about?”

“Well that’s why I want to speak to Lucinda. Oh hi! Found anything interesting.” Isabel finished as Lucinda and Veronica carried some old childhood possessions down the stairs.

“Just cleaning out. We found some of your old toys as well. Your old train set still works.”

Isabel felt the slightest ripple of nostalgia but quickly suppressed it for fear of betraying any feelings.

“Is it still all boxed up?”

“Yes. Dad must have had one of the engines out.”

“Well, just leave it for now. I’ll sort it out sometime.”

There was no urgency to clear the house for Josephine anticipated staying until she died. Isabel and Marjorie joined the others around the kitchen island worktop and Isabel explained briefly.

“This morning I had a good look at the books and the factory’s on a pretty sound footing. I’m quite confident I can run it successfully.”

“Will you be coming back to Northumberland?”

“Only temporarily, but I have to go back to Manchester tonight. Once I’ve sorted things down there I should be back on Wednesday.”

“Are you staying for lunch?”

“Of course mummy. But mainly, I’d like Lucinda to accompany back to the factory this afternoon. I have to meet the workforce then stop at the bank with Marjorie to sort out authorities for the cheques and stuff. I’ve arranged that Marjorie will continue countersigning cheques while Lucinda or I can be the other signatories. Lucinda, are you up to attending the factory say twice a week, until I get settled into the job.”

“Will you be running it full time.”

“I was hoping you’d be happy to do a couple of days a week just doing general management then I’d come up each week for a couple of days and we could liaise together by skype or some other comms service for anything else. My biggest issue is sales and marketing. Attending exhibitions and stuff and winning contracts.”

“I’d be more than willing to help with sales. I did marketing as part of my business degree at Uni. Dad didn’t do much about sales, he just let the local contractors come to him if they needed repairs or new plant. We are the agents for several plant manufacturers for this part of England. Apart from the patented stuff we manufacture, he didn’t much seek out other opportunities.”

“Yeah, well that’s something he was a bit remiss about. You can’t just stand still as technology moves on. Somebody’s bound to invent another widget or gadget that does the job better.”

After they finished their meal, Lucinda accompanied Isabel back to the factory where Marjorie was organising the meeting. The men were gathered in the canteen when Lucinda and Isabel arrived.

Isabel wasted no time on niceties for she wanted to create the impression that there was a new dynamism and the management had not become moribund. The factory had ceased operating to avoid noise and only the dull roar of the forge suggested that the factory had life. Isabel stood on a small box and spoke briefly.

“Good afternoon Gentlemen, my name is Isabel Thorpe and I’ll be the new manager for Thorpe engineering. Now you’ll no doubt have some questions. If I can’t answer them, I’m hoping Miss Lucinda Thorpe as the new deputy manager, can.”

“Pete, the works convenor immediately shot his hand up.”

“Are you related to Miss Lucinda’s family then? A cousin perhaps.”

“I’m closer than that, I’m Miss Thorpe’s sibling. Some of you older staff might remember Edward Thorpe’s oldest son Digby. I was Digby.”

Inevitably, the silence was deafening, so Isabel took the opportunity to explain.

“You older men will perhaps remember me as the kid who sneaked into the factory at weekends and messed about on every machine as I tried out ideas. Old Jed Larson used to indulge me; you’ll remember old Jed”

Isabel’s reference to old Jed Larson caused a few older hands to nod their heads and smile. Jed had been popular and her reference to Jed had reinforced a favourable link. However, the men were still unsure and Pete cleverly wove a question that alluded to Isabel’s transgenderism without bluntly causing offence. Pete had been on several union courses and transgenderism in the workplace had been much discussed.

“Miss Thorpe, ma-am, are you familiar with engineering and manufacturing, I mean; you know. It’s all very well being the manager; but on the shop floor like?”

Isabel smiled. She had been anticipating some allusion to her femininity and running an engineering concern. She looked down from her box and grinned. Her tour of the workplace the previous day had shown her that not one innovative machine had been installed since Digby had run away as a teenager. Yes there were certainly modern replacements, but nothing that did anything new.

“I’ll tell you what Pete. Take me to any machine in this factory and ask me to make something.”

ooo000ooo

AA Lock Stock And Barrel 5

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.
Betty Edward Thorpe’s secretary.
Pete Machine shop supervisor.

Chapter 5 © Copyright to Beverly Taff.

After challenging Pete to a test of machine shop skills, Isabel skipped lightly down from her makeshift dais and motioned to the yard.

“You’re not serious!” Pete responded. “Any machine?”

“You heard me. Everybody on the floor heard me. Come on.”

Pete didn’t smirk as he followed Isabel across the yard into the first machine shop. She hesitated as she tucked her long lustrous hair into a hairnet she took from her overall pocket then she stepped up to the guillotine. Then, when she readily set the safety guards and clamped a plate onto the cutting bed to promptly cut and fashion a shape that Pete immediately recognised as the precursor to the sculler blades before being bowed and dished; Pet’s eyes widened with respect.

Isabel then took the shaped plate and set it into the small press where she dished it then adjusted it and repeated gently dishing the hollow until it was immediately recognisable as one of the blades from the company’s patented separator.
Then with an obvious familiarity, she stepped across to the stock of scullers in the next bay and held it against the machined sample held ready for assembly.

Isabel’s hand-pressed sample exactly matched the machined sample with barely a wobble or twitch. Plate to plate they spooned together with almost perfect adhesion, so much so that when Pete tried to separate the pair he had to slide them apart. His eyebrows raised with newfound respect as he handed both plates back for the men to inspect while Isabel explained.

“Don’t forget Pete Old Jed Larson and I spent weekends fashioning the prototypes and he was kind enough to allow me to access all the machinery around here. When I was only twelve, thirteen and fourteen. I served a de facto apprenticeship with old Jed when you were what, still in Primary school?”

Pete just stood there rubbing the back of his neck in a way that demonstrated his surprise, acceptance and figurative apology for having expressed his doubts.

“Well; I’ve got to admit miss, you’re a canny lass when it comes engineering. It’ll be pleasure having a boss who can match the men for skills.”

Isabel promptly slipped into femininity mode and smiled graciously as she made her way out.

“Thank you Pete. Now sadly, I’m a busy lady and I have to return to Manchester tonight. Dad’s unexpected death sort of caught me betwixt and between that’s why I didn’t make the funeral and Marjorie only located me after his burial.”

“No problem Miss. “D’ you want one of us to drive you to the station.”

“No that’s not necessary. I’ve got my own four-by-four and I want to stop by to pay my respects to Jed. He treated me like a father should and I’m stopping to see if he’s okay.”

Several older grey-haired heads nodded sagely and smiled as Isabel made her exit. She left with sense of warm satisfaction.

‘Job done’ she told herself as she removed her PPE.

“Well you certainly won some friends down there,” Lucinda congratulated her.

“Thanks Sis. Now I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back to Manchester, it’s a big night in the village and I want to drop by Jed’s place to share a cup of tea.”

“Can I come please?” Lucinda begged. “It’s on the way to Mum’s and I’ve never met the man who acted like a father to you. Dad never brought us down here.”

“By all means. It’ll make Jed’s day. Come on.”

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up outside the sheltered housing that Jed had been fortunate enough to occupy when he retired from Thorpe Engineering. Minutes later they were knocking on Jed’s apartment door.

“Just a mo.!” Jed’s gruff voice rumbled from behind the door.

“It’s your old acolyte who used to be Digby.”

“Oh! Hold on.”

Isabel and Lucinda almost held there breaths as sounds behind the door presaged Jed’s infirmity but eventually the bolt slipped with a loud click and a wrinkled smile emerged before turning into a puzzled frown.

“Is that you Digby lad?”

“Yes Jed, and this is my sister Lucinda.”

Jed paused momentarily before finding his words.

“So you did change then”

Isabel nodded and smiled for she was already recognising Jed’s approval as the twinkle in the old man’s eye slowly morphed into a smile then a knowing belly laugh.

“Ooh Ha, ha, ha! I’ll bet your dad doesn’t approve!”

“Dad’s dead Jed. He died last week and was buried yesterday morning. Did nobody tell you?”

Jed’s smile fell from his face as he absorbed the news.

“Good god! No! He wasn’t that old. I’m shocked.”

“Well, it’s water under the bridge now. I was only informed after Marjorie Tansley located me in Manchester. I missed the funeral as well.”

“Ooh dear. It’s a bad business. You never reconciled with your dad then.”

“Sadly not. Happily, Lucinda and her sisters are much kinder and my mum is glad to see me again.”

“And judging by that classy suite you’re wearing and that expensive motor, I’m thinking your not a ‘bad penny’ either.

“He’s most certainly not Mr Larson; sorry I mean SHE’S most certainly not.” Lucinda interjected.

Jed smiled at Lucinda and chuckled.

“Aye. I suppose it takes a bit of getting used to; names and things. I can only offer you a cup of tea. The dinner lady will be bringing dinner at six.”
“I’ve brought cakes,” Isabel chuckled. “We can have a Saturday tea just like the old days around the forge.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Lucinda offered as she stepped into the little kitchen.

“That’s kind of you pet. Thanks for the cakes.”

“Oh that’s her idea.” Lucinda nodded towards Isabel as she extended the little occasional folding table.

The conversation soon revolved around old memories that Isabel and Jed shared from those undeclared weekends at the factory when their father thought Digby was playing football. It was a poignant indicator to Lucinda that their father had never shared time with Digby such that he had never learned of Digby’s secret engineering forays.

He had only learned of Digby’s work when the patented spinning separator had materialised at the end of a grain discharge pipe at an agricultural show that Digby had organised to visit with Jed. It was only when the letter arrived at the office that Digby’s father had learned firstly of the separator and secondly that Digby was not playing football on Saturdays.

Nevertheless, Edward Thorpe had promptly robbed his son and claimed the patent as his own. A month after that that Digby had run away after the row about not liking contact sports. As Jed chewed thoughtfully on his teacake he studied the attractive woman sitting opposite him. The image prompted him to wonder and he spoke softly.

“I know it’s not my place to ask Miss Thorpe but can I ask how you managed after you ran away?”

Isabel chewed slowly on her cake as she prepared her answer.

“It is your place to ask Jed, you were the only person who had some inkling about Isabel, I still remember your remark about the ballerina’s tutu. When I explained about hating football, you were the only man who never condemned me. No Jed, you’re the only one who deserves an explanation and call me Isabel. Miss Thorpe sounds horribly formal.”

“Okay Isabel it is then; so what happened.”

“Well by then, I’d seen some article in a magazine and they mentioned a club in Manchester famous for it’s cabarets. I headed down to Manchester and met a transsexual called Georgina who understood me. She became my ‘trans-mother’ who helped me cross-dress and realised I made a bloody good drag artist. With enough makeup I passed as a drag queen waitress and got a job as a bottle girl in the club.

I had to dress in a skimpy leotard and tights, plus heels of course but nobody asked my age and I sort of became a fixture. Yeah, I got groped and fingered every night but eventually I developed enough ‘put-down’ lines to stave off the dogs and fortunately our flat was in the village so getting home was easy.

I used to run errands for the drag queens between venues and all the doormen in the clubs soon got to know me. Like I said, I became a sort of village fixture until eventually I became skilled enough to put on a short five-minute act in the stage club on Tuesday nights. Eventually my act grew and soon I had double billing on Friday and Saturday nights.

I was filling the club and my income showed it. I saved like hell and soon had enough to buy the club. The owner was getting out of showbiz through old age so Georgina, my Trans mother and I bought the club.

I was twenty by then and well able to manage but Sadly Georgina caught Aids and died. I became the sole owner of the club and by then it was one of the most successful clubs in Manchester.”

“My god Hinny!” Jed remarked. “You’ve had a hell of a life then.”

“How come you missed catching AIDS then?” Lucinda wondered.

Isabel smiled somewhat patronisingly.
“Uuhm, I’m trans darling not gay. I prefer girls and I’m not promiscuous.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Lucinda countered.

“It does to a transgendered girl. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Go on,” Jed encouraged, “this sounds interesting.”

“When Georgina died the whole gay village was already in trauma as gays were dying like flies all around. Several small but successful little businesses came up for sale as the proprietors died. I helped other entrepreneurial young gays take them over and I became a sleeping partner in several different businesses.”

“Quite the little tycoon then.” Lucinda remarked somewhat acidly.”

“Hey! Don’t you judge me sister. Needs must and transgenderism was all I had. No high-school diplomas or university degrees for me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well it sounded like it from where I am.”

“Hist now you two.” Jed scolded them softly. “Don’t be falling out now. You’re going to have to work together if you’re to keep Thorpe Engineering on track.”

“Don’t worry Jed. Your company pension’s safe, I checked the fund and I’ll not be needing to raid it.” Isabel Chuckled softly then stood up to go.

“Well, it’s been lovely chatting again Jed. I’ll certainly call next time I’m up. I sorry this visit is short but I’ve got business in Manchester tonight.”

“That’s fine Hinny. I don’t get out much these days. It’ll be lovely to see you again.”

“Cheerio Jed see you at the weekend.”

And with that they left the old man waving at his window.

In the car Lucinda turned to Isabel.

“So what’s so important in Manchester, you won’t be there much before eight.”

“I’m the main attraction tonight at my club. I’m on stage at ten and I’ll need to be back-stage an hour before curtain-up to put the mask on.”

“My God! You’re still doing drag then.” Lucinda gasped.

“As I said sister; don’t knock it. It pays the rent and then some.”

“Okay. Can you put me off at my house, it’ll save you half an hour instead of dropping me at mother’s”

“Thanks Sis. Very thoughtful of you.”

“I’m just so happy to have my brother back.”

“Don’t you mean sister?”

“Well it doesn’t matter, I’m just happy to have YOU back.”

“Seriously Sis?”

“Absolutely! And mum’s delighted; as are our sisters.”

“Okay then, that’s truly a relief for me.”

“Not half as much as it is a delight for us. Here we are, this is mine. When are you coming up again?”
“Probably Friday evening. I’ll be late-ish around nine or so.”

Lucinda leaned across and gave Isabel an emotional kiss and hug before making her way to the front door. Isabel watched until Lucinda’s husband answered the door then she left for Manchester. She made good time and arrived at half-past seven; grateful that midweek traffic was light.

ooo000ooo

AA Lock, Stock and Barrel 6

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.
Betty Edward Thorpe’s secretary.
Pete Machine shop supervisor.

Chapter 6 © Copyright to Beverly Taff.

“Hello-oo! I’m home!”

“In the kitchen darling!”

“Where are the kids?” I asked, wondering why they hadn’t come scampering down the hall as they usually did, the moment I called out to announce my return.”

“They’ve gone with Dawn to my mum’s. I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“Traffic was light and the snow didn’t stick around so I was faster than I expected.” I explained as I eagerly wrapped my arms around my partner Shula’s waist and nibbled the back of her neck.

“Mmm. That’s nice,” Shula sighed as she pushed backwards into my embrace.

We continued hugging each other as our lips grazed each other’s until Shula twisted round and we finally achieved the lip-lock we sought.
We were so engrossed in our passion that we did not hear Dawn arrive with the children.

“If the wind changes, you’ll stick like that.” Dawn sniggered as our children bounced forward to inveigle themselves into our embrace.

Their demands for attention caused Shula and I to stumble into the drawing room and flop down onto the settee where the children climbed onto our laps. Dawn sniffed appreciatively at the smell of Shula’s cooking.

“Seafood Paella? It smells good.”

“Well if these little scamps will let me get up, it’s ready to serve.” Shula declared.

Shula liked being a home bird and she was more than willing to share her affections between Dawn a very attractive lesbian and me, an attractive transsexual husband. She extricated herself from the tangle of arms and legs to attend to the food while Dawn took her place.

Dawn and I were not sexually involved but she was happy to share a hug with the children. Two of the children were Shula’s and the third was Dawn’s, I was father to all three conceived by my frozen sperm.

“How was it with your family?” Dawn asked.

“Much better than I expected. They accepted Isabel.”

“Oh! That’s good news then.”

“I’m going back on Friday night; to see my family properly. I’m thinking of introducing the children to their paternal grandma if you two are happy for that.”

“Will she approve, you know, the open relationship?”

“I don’t know but knowing my mum as I do now, she’s been aching for a grandson. Eddie will go a long way to easing any tensions. So far, both her married daughters have only given her granddaughters.”

“Eddie should break the ice then.”

“I looked up into Dawn’s grin as Eddie continued to arm wrestle my free arm and I grimaced. My son was growing stronger by the day.”

“He’ll break my arm if he gets any stronger.”

“He’s a boy Izzie, (That was Dawn’s private nickname for me,) stronger he’s going to get and he loves football.”

“Well, if we get the chance, I’ll take him to a Match in Newcastle.”

“Oh he’ll love that. What d’ you say to that Eddie?”

“What?” Eddie responded.”

“A football match in Newcastle.”

“Who’ re they playing.”

“I dunno, you’ll have to find out.”

This caused Edie to spring off the settee and my lower stomach. It was a good job I’d had my surgery.

“Oooff!” I gasped as Shula called us to the table.

Soon we were discussing the weekend. Fortunately, everybody was available, though the children had to forego their football little league games.

From their laments about missing their little league game and subsequent joy about visiting St James’s Park, I quickly realised that I had three fanatical followers and players so the Trip to St James’s Park stadium was going to be expensive.

As the meal ended Shula reminded me.

“Don’t forget, you’ve got a gig tonight.”

“How could I forget?” I grinned for I still enjoyed my drag nights.

“Will you be late?”

“Nah, it’s a Wednesday; Student’s night. I’ll be home before four. You’d better sleep with Dawn so I won’t disturb you when I crawl in.”

I did not miss the flash of anticipation that passed between Dawn and Shula as Shula turned to me.

“You can join us if you want.”

“Nah. I’ll be whacked at that time of the morning. The last thing you want is me waking you up at four or five. Dawn’s got work and you’ve got the kids. I’ll sleep at mine next door. Thursday night will be better, the club closes at midnight and I’ll leave the locking up to the staff. I’ve already arranged for the weekend so on Friday we can drive up to my mum’s after school. I’ve booked some rooms at the local hotel. I want the grandchildren to be a surprise for Josephine my mum.”

“A surprise!?” Both Shula and Dawn cackled. “I should co-co!” Dawn added as she choked with laughter.

“Hello mummy, these are your grandchildren and your daughters in law! I can’t wait!” Dawn continued laughing as she cleared the plates.

ooo000ooo

Thursday went as planned; after a hectic but enjoyable Wednesday drag night I stumbled into my own apartment at five in the morning and Zonked out till noon. Wednesday had been a killer but the club’s takings had been enormously successful. Thursday I recovered by lunch time so Shula and I went shopping before collecting the Children from school.

Finally we met Dawn as she left work and we dined in the village before I left for the club while the family went home. On Friday I helped Shula pack the microbus and four o’ clock saw us on the way to Newcastle. Eight o’ clock found us booked into the Drover’s Arms again and me phoning my mother.

“Yes mummy. It’s your newest daughter again, can we come over.”

“It’s ‘Can I come over darling.’ Remember your grammar.

“Yes okay mummy, ten minutes enough? Do you need extra milk or anything.”

“Don’t be silly Isabel! I’m beginning to like that name you know.”

“Thank you mummy, and I don’t have to tell you how relieved I am that you’ve accepted her.”

“Thinking back darling, I should have seen it coming. The only thing I regret is no grandchildren.”

“That’s water over the dam I’m afraid mummy. See you in ten.”

“Drive carefully, it’s started snowing up here.”

I put the phone down and gave Dawn a joyous fist pump.

“She doesn’t suspect a thing!”

Excitement grew as we bundled into the Minibus and set off for my old family home.

Everybody’s eyes widened when I pulled into the forecourt.

“Flippin ‘eck.” Shula giggled. “It’s a proper country bloody mansion this.”

“Well, it’s a comfortable house I suppose, “ I replied defensively “It’s only got seven bedrooms, though I know they’ve put extra bathrooms in.”

“Why didn’t we stay here.” Dawn wondered.

“Well firstly some of my sisters are still living here, secondly it’s a bit unfair to just unload five plus one people on my mother without warning and thirdly I wanted this to be a surprise. Hey-up here comes my youngest sister Jacqueline.”

My youngest sister stopped and stared as she took note of our seemingly crowded minibus

“Who are these?” She asked as Dawn slid back the door.”

“Your sisters in law, your nieces and a nephew.” I grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Jacky was a sharp cookie and she stared at the unexpected gaggle as they decamped from the van.

“Two sisters in law. That’s not legal.

“Well one wife and her life partner. We’re a threesome. The three children are mine. Frozen sperm.”

As Jacqueline’s mind raced, she smiled at Eddie her new Nephew.

“So mum gets the grandson she’s always wished for. Is he a turkey baster?”

I frowned at first then shrugged off the untoward remark. Jacqueline was still a kid.

“Got in one little sis and his family name is legitimately Thorpe.”

“Well I suppose you’d better come in. I can’t wait to see mums face.”

ooo000ooo

Jacqueline led the family inside then paused at the drawing-room door.

“Isabel’s here mum.”

“Well tell her to come in, she’s family and doesn’t have to stand on ceremony.”

Jacqueline grinned at me.

“You heard her; family is welcome.”

She stepped aside as young Eddie marched boldly ahead of me through the door and stood staring at my elderly mother Josephine.

“Daddy says you’re my grandmother.”

Josephine turned to stare at the boy child as her jaw sagged. Then her shocked gaze turned on me.

“Is this true?” She replied uncertainly.

I nodded and smiled as Josephine struggled to take in both the information and image.

“Are they all yours?”

“Yes.” I assured her. “And these are your daughter in laws. Shula and Dawn.”

Josephine was so overwhelmed that she had to sit on the settee as a tear glistened in her eye. Shula took the seat beside her and offered her hand. Josephine took it and squeezed it as she whispered. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you.” Shula whispered. “The children now have roots. We should have done this sooner but Isabel had issues with her dad.”

“Yes. He was cruel to her and I should have been more forthright about his bullying. So;- the little girls?” Josephine pressed Shula, “What are their names.”

“Lucy and Abbie, or more correctly Lucinda and Abigail.” Shula confirmed.

“After your sisters?” Josephine observed while turning to me.

I nodded then elaborated.

When Shula and Dawn asked me about family names those where the only ones I knew. I told them and they liked them. So here they are, your grandchildren Eddie, Lucy and Abbie.

“You could have told me on Wednesday.”

“I Needed to sound you out and be sure.”

“But after Wednesday you could have told me.

“I’m transgender mum, and it’s been a rocky road and I’ve had to tread carefully.”

“So,- so what d’you call your partners?”

“Shula’s my wife, all legal and above board. Dawn is Shula’s partner. I’m registered as the father to all three children. It’s a sort of societal menage-a-trois but without the three-way sex.”

“But is the relationship legal I mean two wives.”

“No, no Mummy. One wife and one very close platonic partner.”

“How do your friends see that?”

“Come on Mummy. I’ve been living for seventeen years in the gay village of Manchester. Stuff like ours is pretty normal in those parts.”

“What about the children, do they get bullied or teased in school?”

“There are about a dozen same sex parent families in the school and two of the teachers are openly gay. Even one of the coppers who patrols the village is openly gay, and she frequently patrols the school gates at school times.”

“What does Eddie call you?”

“It used to be daddy as he copied his sisters, but he’s recently taken to calling me dad. He’s growing up and becoming more boyish; the girls still call me daddy.”

Josephine wagged her head slowly as Jaqueline entered with a tray of tea.

“We’re a bit short of milk, we were only expecting one.

I looked down at Eddie.

“Can you go and get one of the big bottles of milk from the car please son.”

Eddie took the proffered car keys and soon returned with the large six-pint supermarket plastic bottle.

Josephine smiled as the young lad hefted the bottle onto the table. Then she turned to me.

“And he calls you dad?”

“Why not? I am his dad.”

“Quite; I suppose. Why not?”

Having seen the large milk bottle, Jaqueline returned with three beakers for the children’s milk and Josephine thanked me for anticipating the milk shortage.

“Well, in all fairness mum, we can’t just descend on somebody like the golden hordes. And we’re booked in at the Drovers Arms before you ask.”

“Thanks for that.”

We sipped our tea and savoured the biscuits while chatting about all things family. Very soon both my older sisters came over with their families and my children got to meet their cousins. It soon turned out that one of my nieces was also a keen football fan and when she learned we were already booked for the match at St James’s park she quickly inveigled her father to let her go as well,

For an evening meal we voted for a ‘take-away’ because the young ones outvoted the adults. It was quite late when we finally made it to our beds at the Drover’s Arms Hotel.

ooo000ooo

AA Lock Stock And Barrel 7

Isabel. Entrepreneur and asset stripper.
Edward Thorpe Isabel’s father. Deceased.
Josephine Thorpe Isabel’s mother.
Lucinda Thorpe Isabel’s sister.
Abigail Thorpe Isabel’s 2nd sister
Veronica Thorpe Isabel’s 3rd sister
Jacqueline Thorp Isabel’s youngest sister
Marjorie Tansley Lawyer to Edward Thorpe
Shula Isabel’s bisexual female partner.
Dawn Shula’s lesbian lover and Isabel’s companion
Betty Edward Thorpe’s secretary.
Pete Machine shop supervisor.

©Copyright Beverly Guinevere Taff

After the ‘take-away’ meal was finished, Grandma Josephine dusted off her collection of old photo albums to the accompaniment of groans of protest from her daughters and their grandchildren. She was delighted however, when Eddie, Abby and Lucy showed an avid interest. The evening soon divided into Josephine eagerly explaining the photographs to her daughters in law and Isabel’s children while Isabel chatted at length with her sisters to catch up on the family story since she had run away.

Eventually, sleepy little eyes began to flicker and the evening had to be curtailed. Isabel and her family returned to the hotel and put the children to bed. Once they were soundly asleep the adults slipped to their adjacent room where the king-sized bed awaited. As usual, Shula repeated their mantra as Isabel was the last to step out of the shower.

“So. I presume it’s all for one and one for all.”

“I’m surprised you two aren’t already abed.” Isabel grinned. As she spotted the coffee standing ready on the table.

“So?” Isabel wondered. “What d’you think of my family?”
“They’ll do.” Dawn grinned as she inveigled her stockinged toes into Isabel’s pantied crotch.

“Mmm. Stop that you naughty girl.”

“You know you don’t mean that.” Dawn whispered huskily.

Dawn’s having redressed in provocative lingerie after showering, was a clear signal that the night was deemed young. Shula had also reinforced the message in her own tri-set of bra, panties and suspenders, so in short order, Isabel was slipping into her own provocative ensemble that Shula had secretly slipped into the cases while packing.

The coffee did not get cold and soon the three were lasciviously entwined in the bed.

ooo000ooo

“Bbrrring, rrriing” the sound dragged the companions out of their slumbers.

“Somebody answer that damned thing,” Dawn croaked.

Reluctantly, Isabel carefully slitted her sleep sticky eyes and paused irritably before venturing a toe out from under the duvet.

“Go on! Answer it!” Shula demanded. “You’re nearest the damn thing.”

“Why’s it always me?” Isabel protested as she wobbled sleepily towards the phone.

“Where are your knickers!? Shula demanded as she savoured Isabel’s butt.

“I dunno, ask her.” Isabel riposted as she picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

-------------

“Yes Mummy.”

---------------

“Yes. They’re here.”

------------

“No. They’re next door.”

---------------

“That’s our concern mummy and it’s strictly private.”

-----------------

“Okay then eleven o’clock.”

Isabel replaced the phone and smirked at her companions.

“Nosey bitch.”

“Asking how we sleep I suppose?” Dawn inquired.

“Got it in one,” Isabel replied as she motioned her hand to Dawn.

Dawn grinned as she felt under the duvet then passed Isabel’s frazzled panties to her.

“You’d better put these on before the kids come in or you’ll frighten them to death.”

Isabel snatched them off Dawn as she countered.

“You always tell me it’s a very pretty sight.”

“Well it is, but the kids don’t need to see it. Your surgeon did a bloody good job.”

“Yeah, and I paid a bloody good price as well.”

As Isabel slipped into her panties, Shula raided the bathroom and produced the hotel bathrobes.

“They’ll be here any minute, put these on.”

A few minutes later noises from the adjoining suite confirmed the children’s awakening and soon Shula was organising showers and shower caps. There quickly followed the usual ‘production line’ of preparations and by eight o’clock the they were trooping down to breakfast.

Following breakfast, the family left the hotel and gathered at ‘the homestead.’ There, they split up as different groups went different ways.

Isabel and her troop arrived with Lucinda’s husband Jack and his daughter an hour before kick-off.

“Heeey. It’s nice to have company to the match.” He grinned as they savoured their burghers and drinks. “Will ya’s be cummin heyar regular like.”

“Couple of days a week, but workdays mostly. Weekends, I’m busy down the village,”

“Thass’a pity. Yours’d be good company for mine, well the middle one, Fiona I mean.”

“Does she play in a team?”

“Aah noo, not properly as like; It’s hard to find the time. All her sisters and cousins do ballet so the mams are tied up with that. Fiona misses out a bit.”

“She hates ballet I suppose.”

“Aye.”

“Poor kid.”

“Well living as we do out in the country; she misses out on team activities.”

“What about school?”

“Small village primary. There’s not enough interest or numbers to get a girls’ team together. She plays in the mixed team but she’s going up to secondary school next year I’m hoping they’ll have something.

“Push for it. We had to in Manchester but of course we’ve got the LGBT thing working for us.”

“Aye. That’s crossed my mind as well.”

“What? Fiona!”

“We-ell yes. She’s a right tom-boy. Just watch her get shoutin at the match.”

“If she turns out to be LGBT, what’re your feelings?”

“To tell the truth I was seriously worried, but now you’re on the team, well, I’ve feel I’ve got a ‘go-to’ for help.”

Isabel smiled uncertainly as she anticipated some sort of possible, emotional burden being thrust upon her shoulders.

“Thanks. I think I can count that as a compliment. If ever she thinks she needs help, I’ll try to be there to do the best I can and offer protection. You know, legal help as well as advice.”

“Thanks Izzy. Can I call you that, I heard Shula and Dawn using it.”

“That’s fine, we’ll count it as a family privilege. Hey-up! The turn-styles are opening!”

“Come on girls!” Isabel called across the forecourt only to see the children chatting to some boys.

It seemed Fiona knew them from school where they played in the same mixed junior team. Isabel turned to her brother-in-law Jack.

“Those boys seem a bit young to be going in alone.”

“They’ll be coming into our enclosure, the family enclosure. I’ve often seen Fiona chatting to them and I know some of their dads from the village.”

Isabel shrugged and crossed the forecourt with Lucinda’s husband. The boys expectant smiles faded slightly when they spotted the girl’s parents approaching but Isabel’s brood quickly revealed that there was no problem with the parents and the group happily joined the queue for the family enclosure.

Having arrived early, they secured a good location and prearrangements were quickly made for burgers and chips. Isabel discreetly asked who the visitors and on being told it was Arsenal, she grinned.

“No problems with loyalties then.” Good job it’s not Man U., or City.

“Is there a division with yours then?”

“Eddie supports City while the girls go for the glamour.”

Jack snorted with amusement.

“Bet that makes for some interesting Saturdays.”

“It’s healthy banter most of the time but sometimes we have to keep a lid on it. Sometimes Eddie steps next door to my apartment to get away from his sisters, especially if they’ve got friends around.”

“When the toon are playing in Manchester next, can we stay with you?”

“Yes. There’s room at mine. I’ll sleep with Shula and Dawn; you can sleep with Fiona in my apartment.”

“Would there be room?”

“No problem it’s a three-bedroom apartment. You could bring your whole family, provided the younger girls will share rooms. And of course you don’t get judgemental about Shula, Dawn and me sleeping menage a trois next door.”

Jack grinned somewhat self-consciously.

“If you’re expecting me to make some stupid chauvinistic remark like ‘Lucky Boogar!’ I know when to keep my mouth shut. The only thing that puzzles me is that your prefer girls and yet you transitioned. I don’t get that.”

“Don’t even try.” Isabel chuckled. “Just know that about a quarter of transgendered people, keep their old sexualities and technically become gay. It took psychiatrists years to come to terms with it.

With that the whistle screeched and a tumultuous roar deafened their ears. Almost as if by magic the four children Fiona, Eddie, Lucy and Abbie coalesced into the larger group of boys from Fiona’s school and soon Isabel and Jack’s ears were assailed by a concentrated screech of prepubescent sopranos and trebles as passions were raised.

As the tensions amongst the children intensified Isabel felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She glanced around to find Jack offering some ear plugs.

“You might need these if Newcastle score.” He smiled.

“That bad?” Isabel’s eyebrows arched.

“Trust me,” Jack confirmed as he held out the little polythene sachet. “Our Fiona’s got quite a voice on her. This is where she vents her frustrations.”

“Isabel grinned and tucked the little sachet into her gloves then settled down to watch the game as an interested neutral. The result affected both Manchester team’s chances of European football in the next season.”

Jack of course, was a ‘Dyed-in-the-wool’ Geordie and his passions rose and fell with the crowds’ but it was not until close to half time that Isabel’s ear drums were almost ruptured when Newcastle pulled back an equaliser and Fiona let rip a deafening scream like a victorious banshee.

Isabel was sitting next to her prancing; agitated niece and she received the full blast. Her hands shot to her ears in shock.

“Ow!”

Jack turned and grinned.

“I did warn yez Hinny.”

“Bloody Hell!”

“Aye. She’s got a voice on ‘er. She can sing as well.” Jack revealed proudly.

As Isabel took the earplugs from her bag the half-time whistle blew and Jack organised the group.

“Right, four of you boys come with me to the hamburger stall while the others stay back to reserve our seats. Girl’s first to the loo with Isabel then come back so the other boys can go.”

Isabel watched as the operation went smoothly and they were soon comfortably eating their food before the second half commenced.

“That went well, and nobody got lost.” Isabel remarked.

“Aye, we’s do it every home game. Only difference is Fiona didn’t have to find a chaperone this time.”

With that, the second half started and Isabel gave up all hope of conversation amidst the roar of the crowd.

To everybody’s delight, Newcastle managed to win by a single goal and the after-match mood in the town reflected that. Jack, Isabel and the older children met the younger girls and aunts by prearrangement outside the town. They drove home in convoy to Josephine’s house where this time, Isabel, Shula and Dawn were made welcome to share their bed in the large guest room. Jack of course slept with his wife Lucinda and Eddie had one of the attic single rooms while Fiona was excited to share a ‘sleep-over’ with her cousins Abby and Lucy.

The family meal that night was the culmination of Isabel’s dreams.

‘Happy days,’ she silently congratulated herself as she dimmed the bedroom lights.

THE END.
Author’s note. This was just a light fluffy piece with no dark places.