Dot and Sam 31

Dorothy Philpot. Landlady of The Harbour Light pub
Sam Philpot. Drag-queen and lifelong companion of Dot’s.
Billy Parkins Doorkeeper.
Jessica Merlot The town’ and county archaeologist.
Josephine MacDonald The town and county archivist.
Richard Drummond Town planning inspector
Robert Vincent. Junior planning inspector.
Georgina. (Georgie) Homeless Transgender girl previously known as George.
Bobby Gay boy on the school bus.
Marty Girl on the school bus. (She becomes Georgie’s best friend and lover)
Jack. Marty’s twin brother (Keen runner).
Trevor Aitkins, Georgie’s Biological father.
Lucinda Aitkins Georgie’s biological mother
Terence Georgie’s step-dad
Peter Terence’s homophobic son.
Allison. Old school friend of Trevor & Retired Solicitor
Fred Allison’s husband
Elizabeth Aitkins (Beth) Georgie’s younger biological sister. Later proves to be sympathetic to her ‘sister’
Jonathon Aitkins (Johnny) Georgie’s younger biological brother.
Rosie the Rivetter Terf Gang Leader on campus.

Dot and Sam 31

That evening Georgie debated opening her egg donor’s letter or just ripping it up and flushing it down the lavatory. She lay on her bed in the dark for nearly a quarter of an hour while the rain occasionally pitter-pattered against her window as the breeze gusted intermittently up the estuary. Undecided, she stuffed the letter under the clock on her bedside table then turned over and pulled the duvet tightly around her shoulders.

Eventually, sleep came to her, as it invariably does to healthy young people, and then the conundrum was out of her mind.

Like most January mornings in UK, the dawn arrived cold, damp and miserable. Georgie frowned as she contemplated the overladen sky. Then, being as the day held little promise of sunshine, Georgie settled back and decided to read the letter.

Dear George (or as you prefer, Georgie,)

Mummy
Xx

Georgie re-read the letter again and bit her lip as she wriggled back under the duvet to think long and hard. She was still thinking when Dot knocked on her bedroom door.

“Are you okay love?”

“Yes thanks mum; sort of.”

“Are you packed for Coll?”

“Mostly.”

“Don’t forget, it’s early tomorrow, you’ve got to pick up Marty first then up to London.”

Because Georgie did not respond again, Dot knocked softly again and cautiously peered round the bedroom door. She did it slowly to give Georgie time to stop her but on finding silence she moved to sit beside the lump under the duvet.

“Problems darling?”

“It’s the letter mum.”

“Go on love,” Dot encouraged.

“I don’t know if it’s a genuine olive branch or a trap to snare me.”

“Do you want my opinion?”

There was a longish silent pause before Georgie reluctantly agreed.

“Would you mum? Two heads and all that.”

As Dot agreed, Georgie’s head emerged and she poked the letter out of her cocoon of bedding. Dot took it and read it then a thoughtful silence ensued before both sides debated what to suggest. Finally Georgie spoke.

“I’m not sure if she’s playing some sort of emotional game or if she’s genuinely interested in reconciliation.”

Not sure how to proceed, Dot dodged the emotional bullet by suggesting Trevor look at the letter.

“I’m not sure dad would be much good. This is mother daughter stuff, lots of emotion and trust.”

“Ooh, I’m not sure that your dad’s all that hopeless. He strikes me as being very insightful and intuitive.”

“Don’t you think he tends to be too practical; you know; just shaking the nuts and bolts out of a situation and producing a sort of emotional blueprint to go forward. Girls don’t work like that. Well they’re not so clinical at least.”

Dot had a sudden epiphany as Georgie’s words so accurately described where men and women differed and she wagged her head in sympathy as Georgie looked up into Dot’s eyes. Dot looked down and realised that there was a genuinely female brain ticking away on Georgie’s pillow. At a loss to offer further advice she took a different tack.

“Well at least your dad doesn’t tend to ‘mansplain’ things so I think he will give you comfort and support at least; and possibly some direction as well. Shall we ask him tonight?”

“He didn’t offer any help last night.”

“He could see that you were utterly undecided and I think he had the wit not to overload you. You’ll have noticed that both Sam and I hung back as well. These sorts of things are always best after some sleep and your dad knows that as well as we girls do. Your dad’s a good man.”

Dot’s reassurances served to calm Georgie and she curled up into a tight foetal position with the duvet drawn tightly around her body as she smiled gratefully at Dot.

“Thanks, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay darling, any preference for brunch?”

“Just coffee mum. I’ll save my hunger for dinner with you two and dad tonight.”

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Over the coffee and some toast that Sam had prepared despite Georgie’s singular request for ‘just coffee.’ Dot guided the conversation mostly towards the forthcoming spring term and the anticipated problems with the Terfs. Then Georgie contacted Marty to make sure they were both well prepared for the morrow.

“What time shall we come for you?” Georgie asked.

“I think the earlier the better.” Marty opined. “London’s gonna be chaotic with thousands of students heading for different colleges.”

Georgie agreed with her and that reinforced their decisions to make sure they were fully packed that evening. Then Georgie asked Marty.

“Would it be better if you stayed with me tonight and Dad collects you tonight? That will save you having to load the car in the morning.”

“I’ll check with my mum.” Marty replied and after some discussion, Marty’s mother, and indeed her father agreed to the arrangement.

Finally, Georgie phoned her dad to explain the new arrangements, then with the plans set, she went down and put in a short afternoon shift at the restaurant. When Trevor returned from work they wasted little time packing Georgie’s share of the luggage then drove to Marty’s home on the council estate across the town.

“Thanks again for the favour Mr Aitkin,” Marty’s father remarked as they busied themselves with all the luggage. “This takes a load of worry off Peggy my wife’s mind.”

“The Privilege is mine Mr Feldman. It’s good to know that our daughters are safe.”

Both fathers stepped back to look at their daughters both mutually hugging Marty’s mum Peggy’

“Modern times eh,” Trevor exchanged a chuckle with Mr Feldman.

“Aye, it’s been an eye opener for me but my Peggy is delighted that Marty want’s Georgie’s children and they can have them, proper as like; our own blood and all that. As you say though Mr Aitkin, modern times it certainly is.”

“With this profoundly mutual kinship, the fathers shook hands as their daughters clambered into the car and with joyful voices bid goodbye to Peggy and the Feldman children.

During the drive up to London all three travellers dwelled at length on the anticipated threat of the Terf community, both in their own college and on the academic scene in London as a whole. As both girls searched their laptops for all the material they could find, Trevor was finding it difficult to both drive and reassure the girls simultaneously that the threat was not as bad as it seemed. By the time they arrived at the college, the mood was somewhat subdued as the three of them unloaded the car then went to the Student’s Union refectory to eat before Trevor booked in at his hotel.

As they separated Trevor gave them his last bit of information.

“I’ll be in London until tomorrow night so if you feel you need help or advice I’ll be around. Otherwise, call this number. She’s a lady lawyer friend of mine who’s dealt with discrimination cases at length through the high courts. Hopefully, you won’t have to call her because she’s expensive!”

Both girls thanked him profusely and watched him pick his way into the Kensington traffic then disappear into the hurly burly of London’s streets. Next they returned to the Student’s Union and sought out any known friendly faces at the bar.

“There’s Gypsie,” Marty observed, “one of the girls from the theatrical dance troupe. Let’s see if she knows of anything happening tonight.”

“Hi Gypsie, how’s the wrist?” Marty asked.

“The Plaster comes off on Thursday but the pain’s pretty much gone.”

“Good,” Georgie commiserated. “Are you in with us to the Principal’s office tomorrow?”

“Try and bloody stop me,” Gypsie cursed.

“Good for you. Is there much on tonight?” Marty wondered.

“There’s nothing much organised by our student’s union but there’re a couple of clubs up West that’ll be open and there’s a dance at the City College.” Giypsie advised.

Georgie and Marty exchanged bored glances then settled briefly to chat with Gypsie before heading back to Hall. At first, they chatted about any mutually interesting events that the Dance troupe were investigating that term then they briefly discussed the muslim attack that both Gypsie and they had suffered the previous term; finally, they ran out of stuff to discuss. Marty was returning to the bar to buy their last drinks when several of the Terf community entered and gathered at their favourite spot by the bar cash tills.

Georgie eyed the Terfs up discreetly through her lowered eye lids and surreptitiously eased herself around to face away from them, however, Marty found herself having to pick her way past them as she stepped away from the bar with a tray of drinks. It was then that ‘Rosie the Rivetter’ recognised Marty.

Rosie chose her introduction carefully by asking solicitously if Marty had had any success in prosecuting their attackers. Keen to avoid being drawn into conversation Marty simply replied ‘Some.’ As she continued moving away.

Rosie however was looking for information or material for her group to make an issue of the attack and raise its profile on Campus. In truth Marty was alert to Rosie’s agenda and she was basically sympathetic to Rosie’s cause against the ethnic attacks. Ethnic attacks on Transgendered people were, however, every bit as offensive as Terf attacks on Transgendered people. So for trans girls the issue was a particularly ‘double-edged’ sword. Back at their table Georgie, Marty and Gypsie fell to chatting about the attack.

“Damned if we agree with Terfs and join them against religious nutters; - and damned it we condemn Terfs as transphobic thugs. It’s a no-win situation, Georgie protested to no-one in particular.”

“Yeah, but it also serves to protect us from both camps in the eyes of justice.” Marty opined.

“Trouble is,” Georgie added, “The college might well agree that we’re being discriminated against by both camps, but will they have the bottle to stand up for us or even stand side by side with us.”

“Maybe we’ll find out after the meeting with the Principal tomorrow.” Gypsie finished hopefully as she nodded with her head towards the halls of residence indicate that she was heading to bed.

Having mutually agreed almost by a form of cultural osmosis, the three rose in unison and paused at the doors of the Union Building to pick up anybody they recognised as vulnerable as themselves. Their delay was picked up on the new TV monitoring system and within minutes one of the security guards they recognised as a regular, appeared from the little office in the administration block. The little golf cart came whining around the corner with one girl already ensconced ‘shotgun’, so Georgie, Marty and Gypsie squeezed into the back to be deposited at the door of the residence hall.

As all four alighted, Georgie asked the driver-cum-security-guard about the idea of the golf carf.

“It’s good for lots of things as well as security. By day, the groundsmen use it for maintenance.” He explained as he sped off.

Glad to learn that some effort was being made by the college to improve safety, all four passengers stopped by the little kitchenette to share some chocolate before heading for bed.

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