Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 933.

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 933
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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I took the girls to school and collected Julie on the way to Southampton–okay, it was a bit of a dogleg, but I was delighted to see that Stella had helped her with her hair and makeup. Her hair now resembling mine quite closely, except it was darker and with the odd bit of black, pink or red still in it.

I was wearing my grey outfit complete with the ankle boots, I’d asked Julie to wear a mini dress with leggings and her low heeled boots–we’d be doing some walking. On top she wore a black coat and I had my red duffle coat with its fleecy lining.

“Is this okay?” she said giving me a twirl.

“Yeah, I suppose it’ll have to do–if it gets too posh, I’ll just lock you in the boot.” As soon as I said it I remembered her dad had done just that. “I’m sorry, Julie, I was just joking.”

She sniffed and nodded, “’Sokay, but it’s gonna cost you.”

“Like what?” I answered my eyes narrowing, expecting to be told she wanted a new coat or something.

“A hug,” she said and sniffed again.

I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her cheek, “I am sorry–I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay, Mummy, I know you’ll never hurt me–though sometimes you do scare me.”

“Sometimes I scare myself.” This was a true statement, I did do and think things which worried me, perhaps I should see Dr Thomas again–but not today, shopping was all the therapy I needed today and what better companions than young Julie and my old school chum–or should that be chummess? So would a female friend be a palette? Duh.

We chattered about all sorts of things on the drive which took less than an hour for us to be parked in a multi-storey car park, with a potential to spend as much on parking charges as we did in the shops.

My phone peeped and I checked out the text message. There were two:

’Where R U? Si.’

On my way, C U 10.45 S

The latter I assumed was from Siân, seeing as Simon didn’t know where I was he’s unlikely to be on his way to meet me.

Then my cell phone rang–it was Simon. “What the hell is going on?”

“Oh hello, darling, so nice of you to call,” I ignored his lack of any courtesies.

“I’ve just had a bloody great row with Dad about my two timing you.”

“I don’t know anything about that.” It was true–I might have suspected things but I hadn’t involved Henry.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that beautiful but stupid head of yours, but get this straight–I’m not doing anything with anyone–okay. You’re my bloody wife–though if you keep up this bloody paranoia–that could change. Have a nice day.” He rang off before I could do or say anything.

“Are you okay, Mummy?” Julie’s voice came from a swirl that was overcoming my head. It’s a good job we were seated because I think I would have fallen over.

“Yeah, I think so.” Part of me wanted very much to cry–another part knew I needed to hold it together or I’d spoil everyone’s day. I took a deep breath and we got out of the car.

We found the coffee shop and went inside, this was going to be interesting–I hadn’t seen Siân for about ten years, in fact since we were schoolgirls together. Okay, I wasn’t officially a schoolgirl then, but you know what I mean. In those days she was quite a looker–long dark hair, wonderful figure I so envied and dark, hazel eyes. She was probably about my height, if not a fraction taller–but then I wasn’t very tall, about five seven, so she would be five eight or nine.

I ordered Julie a latte, and a Danish pastry. I’d wait for a moment–apart from my tummy churning–I suppose I was okay, as long as I didn’t think about Simon’s angry call. I’d never known him like that before–so maybe it was a case of righteous anger, I didn’t know. The problem with suspicion is that it could also be false indignation to hide his dalliances. Why did he have to start all this in my mind? Life was so good before.

I spotted a rather well dressed woman looking around the coffee shop, her hair was short but well cut and her face familiarish. I stood up, “Siân?” I said loudly enough for her to hear.

She looked over at us, “Cathy? My God, you look wonderful.” She hurried over to us and we hugged, then I introduced her to Julie. “I can’t get over how well you look and how beautiful you are–and how have you got a teenage daughter?” she fired questions at me after we’d ordered our coffees, mine a latte like Julie’s and hers an espresso.

“My sister in law asked to be remembered,” I dropped into the conversation.

“Do I know her?”

“She thinks so, Stella Cameron, she was a nurse specialist.”

“Oh God, not that stuck up know-all and part time patrician? What was it, Lady Stella Muckspreader or something Scottish, wasn’t it?”

“Lady Stella Cameron,” I offered.

“Of course–it would be–so is her brother some sort of nob, then?”

“At times, a total one,” we all laughed at that. “Yeah, he’s actually Lord Simon Cameron.”

“So you’re Lady Cameron?” She gave me a totally boggled look. “Geez Charlie I knew you’d do well, but from schoolboy to Lady wotsit–well bugger me with a rolling bin–whoda guessed?”

Julie nearly fell off her chair at Siân’s remark–I suppose it was quite funny as we all laughed rather loudly.

“Sorry, Cathy, I must stop calling you Charlie–because you aren’t anymore are you?”

“Not according to the Registrar General’s Office–I’m a female called Catherine Cameron née Watts.”

“I think we might have a tranny amongst our patients at the practice–I’m only the junior partner at the moment because I job-share with another woman GP. She’s got children–I only want to work part time for the moment.” She turned her attention to Julie, “So how come you’ve got a mum who’s only a few years older than you?”

“I disguised the pregnancy very well, no one in school recognised it,” I joked.

“Yeah sure–mind you someone was admitted for an appendectomy and it was discovered she was pregnant, so doctors can miss things.”

“Cathy’s my foster mum,” Julie said very quietly, “but she’s far better than my real mum.”

“I’m sure she is. So into fostering are we?”

“Yeah–a bit, just a dabble.”

“There are six of us altogether,” Julie added.

“What all from one family?”

“No–I’ve acquired them in dribs and drabs over the last year or two. I started off with one little girl, then got another and another, then two boys and finally, Julie.”

“She’s rescued me twice from danger. I owe my life to her. I think she’s an angel.”

“She’s certainly as beautiful as one, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” agreed Julie while I simply sat and blushed.

“So what shall we do first?” I asked changing the subject.

“Well I thought we could have a long lunch and a bit of shopping–but that was before I knew you were bringing your lovely foster daughter. Did she warn you about me?” Siân asked Julie.

“Warn me about what?”

“Your foster auntie wouldn’t beat too much about the bush–we got a bit tiddly one evening and I made a pass at her–so she thinks I’m predatory, mind you, you are rather nice, young lady.”

“Siân, put her down–you have a partner, so behave yourself.”

“Okay, okay–I’m only joking,” she winked at Julie who blushed like a pillar box.

“You’re gay?” asked Julie in surprise.

“Quietly, please,” I hissed at her.

“Yep, and unashamed–so if you change your mind, keep me in mind, girly.” Siân teased Julie, who blushed even more.

“I’ve never known a gay lady before,” marvelled Julie, “are they all as nice as you?”

“Oh definitely–we’re all nice aren’t we, Cathy?”

“How would I know?”

“Oh Cathy, you don’t know what you’ve missed all these years.”

“Can we dispense with the ads for Gay Pride, and stereotyping please and do some shopping?”

“Of course–lead on McDuff, I mean Cameron.”

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Comments

So Julie is going to get her

So Julie is going to get her eyes opened about another facet of life. I would still be extra careful around Sian, she does indeed seem predatory. Cathy definitely needs to get counseling, or she is goign to a lose a good thing in her life and that is Simon. It sounds rather like Sian does not like or care for Stella and her family, so how is it she will like Cathy, since she is 'one of them'. Jan

>> predatory

Puddintane's picture

Piffle. She's free and open.

Cathy, by way of contrast, is a mass of neuroses, all of which are potent initiators of sub-plots, but also sources of grief.

Old Leo Tolstoy said (in the opening words of Anna Karenina, thought by many to be the greatest novel ever written), "Happy families are all alike," although he didn't add "boring." What he did add was "every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

That unhappiness (for which we can read "problem") is what makes every story interesting.

According to Joseph Campbell, every story (or at least those we want to hear about) is ultimately a family story, the journey of a hero (or heroine) from adolescence to adulthood, and involves a series of fairly well-defined stages:

1. A hero(ine) ventures forth from his (her) family and the everyday world he (she) knows, entering a world in which everything is strange.

2. Immense obstacles — perhaps even magical or supernatural — are placed in his (her) path which he (she) overcomes through desperate struggle, and eventually a decisive victory is wrested from the brink of disaster, often with the help of supernatural (or otherwise potent) allies. At the climax of the struggle, the Hero(ine) meets the Goddess (God) — representing his (her) anima (animus) and experiences an apotheosis.

3. The hero(ine) returns from his (her) soul-changing adventure and reconciles him(her)self with his (her) family and community, especially his (her) father (mother), with the power to bestow (magical?) gifts to members of his (her) community.

In the real world of storytelling, the individual characters and stages are often transmogrified, so they might not be immediately recognisable, but the basic elements remain, Separation, Initiation, Reconciliation. You can see them in stories as diverse as Star Wars (made explicit by Lucas) to The Taming of the Shrew to the James Bond stories (the later versions make M both father and Goddess, although lesser Goddesses are inevitably encountered along the way, and often initiate one or more of the hero's transformative struggles).

Bike is a classic Hero(ine)'s Journey Tale, and the tempestuous* Stella is Cathy's Goddess figure. Unfortunately, although her biological father is dead, and she did achieve an intermediate resolution with him, she has yet to reconcile her two natures, perhaps with the example of the "two-spirited**" Siân — who initiated another stage of Charlie's transformation — and reconcile with both the anima and animus within her, her father (a part now played by Simon) and her mother, the primal Goddess, perhaps now best seen in Stella, the significant woman in Cathy's life, although Siân could also fill that role.

Cheers,

Puddin'

* The encounter with the Goddess is always fraught with peril, because the Goddess is both fickle and feminine, when seen from a masculine point of view.

** Two-spirited is the traditional formulation for and explanation of lesbians, gay men, and all other transgendered persons within many traditional Red Indian/Native American societies, as well as quite a few Shamanistic cultures around the world. Two Spirit people were often seen as possessing the ability to access spiritual powers unavailable to ordinary people, who had souls that were either masculine or feminine, and were thus content with traditional roles and relationships.

-

Cheers,

Puddin'

A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style

Bike pt 933.

Sian sounds to be Cathy's latest dragon to slay, as well as her own insecurity about herself. Me, I can't see Simon betraying Cathy.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Fun banter

Interesting to see what it leads to.

Loved seeing how loyal Julie is to Cathy.

learning.

Oh isn't it just so sweet. Young kids can be so refreshing.
A couple of years back I was in 'The Bank' club in market street Bristol. It's predominently gay but trannies also used to use it. Well I was in a back room one evening participating in the quiz with some tranny and TS friends when this young lad came up and gave me a most passionate kiss. Now I might just, (only just mind!) pass on a dark night in a crowded smokey room but all my friends stared stupidly at me as I savoured the passion of his kiss and let him linger. As he pulled away feeling very 'grown up' my best friends Rebecca and Mandy grinned at me and remarked.

"Heck Bev, you've clicked there! We never thought of you as gay."

"I'm not gay," I reaffirmed, "but it's nice to be mistaken for somebody young and attractive occasionally."
The young lad let out a gasp of surprise and looked intently at me.
"But, - but you're a transvestite aren't you?"
"Yes," I confirmed, "but I'm not gay."
He looked flustered and turned beseechingly to Rebecca who is a very pretty and succesful TS and he asked her.

"But, but trannies are gay aren't they, I mean, they try to be women, like you."

"Sorry darling," giggled Rebecca, "transvestites are not normally gay, they're just like other men, straight men."

"That can't be right," he protested, "I mean they try to be women, they must like men."

"No darling. It just doesn't work like that. Beverly's as straight as I am and she's also married."

The poor kid almost sat down and wept before he turned to me.

"But you let me kiss you!"

"And very nice it was darling. You obviously don't shave yet, but I'm not reporting you as under-aged yet. It was like being kissed by a young girl; very nice if I may say so."

"But I'm not a girl, I'm gay, I'm a bloke.I've only just come out!"
"And that makes you very brave. Well done kid. So we've both made mistakes tonight so it's honours even; now d'you want a soft drink, an orange or something? I'm only drinking orange juices because I'm driving."
The kid looked utterly confused then looked at me curiously.

"You're not angry are you?"

"Not at all, now d'you want that orange juice. He started to smile and I gave him the two pounds for the orange juice. Then he returned to our group and fell to chatting with us as we enlightened him on many matters. Including Rebecca enlightening him as to her post-op transsexual status. He finally left much later, a much wiser and more confident kid.
As Rebecca and Mandy and I left for a meal we met him embracing another guy outside the club. When he noticed us he broke of the embrace and came over to thank us.
"That's OK, replied Mandy, now make sure you've got a condom kid or you'll be infected with AID's before you know it. Cheerio."
We strolled away congratulating ourselves that we had done out bit for trannydom and trenssexualism that night.
Julie's reactions to Sian and her naive inexperience so reminded me of that kid that night.

Still loving your story Angharad. Give my love to Bonzi and friend.
OXOXOX,

Beverly.

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Julie is certainly

making progress,It's not so long ago that a comment like Cathy's would have left her in floods of tears, Now look at her, Fast developing into a daughter any mother would be proud of....Just one thing though, I wonder if being around Siân when she is doing so well is a good thing...For a doctor Siân seems to have a remarkably loose tongue, And while Julie is much stronger than she was, A few words said without thought could do a lot of harm!

Kirri

So Would a Female Friend Be a Palette?

So would a female friend be a palette? I love the puns!

I believe that people who don't appreciate puns are punderdeveloped. They should remember that the pun is mightier than the sword! (Though admittedly some puns are only two thirds of one --
P U!)

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

palette ?

I believe the popular term in USA recently would be BFF
IE - best female friend

A pal-ette?

Punderdeveloped? pun is mightier than the sword? It's thyme to get this story really spiced up and make it even more punderful!
BTW, a pun is absolutely the lowest type of humor there is, and not be used often at all, unless you are the one doing it!

Happy Punning Grounds everyone!

Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?

Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm

So when a person transistions

And likes/loves the now same sex, are they gay?

IMO, I tend to think they are. You are how you present yourself.

I tend to be a quiet homebody, I've met a few people who were gay, it isn't a big deal.

My youth group has had gays, no big deal there either. I'm proud of my kids.