Dot and Sam 20

Dorothy Philpot. Landlady of The Harbour Light pub
Sam Philpot. Drag-queen.
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
Allison. Old school friend of Trevor & Retired Solicitor
Fred Allisons husband
Elizabeth Aitkins (Beth) Georgie’s younger sister. Later proves to be sympathetic to her ‘sister’
Jonathon Aitkins (Johnny) Georgie’s younger brother.

Dot and Sam 20

As they ate their cakes and drank their mugs of coffee in the waterways museum, Jonathon hazarded another option.

“D’you think I should get another phone?”

“No!” Beth declared emphatically.

“Why not.”

“Firstly, Terry pays your pocket money, secondly, our step-brother Peter keeps trying to go through both our phones and thirdly, both rents are trying to snoop on whether I’m still in touch with Georgie. There’s just too much to go wrong.”

“Well can I have dad’s private number.”

“No for the same reasons I’ve just given. When he next goes through your phone he’s bound to find it. If you have anything to tell Dad or Georgie, come to me in school. I keep my other phone in school so that Terry can’t snoop.”

Jonathon shrugged resentfully for he felt he was being treated like a second-class citizen. To cheer him up, Georgie bought him another cake. Then, to enable her and Johhny to have a nice long chat, they made their way to the car park and Georgie drove both his siblings the one hundred and fifty miles to Gloucester for Johnny and Beth to get as near to their old home as Georgie felt was safe without meeting any others from the family. Reluctantly they parted a few streets from her old home then Georgie returned to her new home at The Harbour Light. It was quite dark when she got home but a couple of phone calls en-route reassured Dot. Then she confirmed to Elizabeth by text to her school phone that she had arrived safely. She knew Beth would delete it immediately she read it on the Monday morning.

For the remaining weeks of September. Elizabeth and Johnathon settled into the routine of the new school term while Georgie and Marty prepared to go up to university. During their last weekend of working at the restaurant Allison and Fred took possession of their ‘cottage’ in the newbuilds behind the whare-houses facing the basin. On seeing the activity from the pub, Georgie decided to pop across the basin and make the couple welcome. She helped move some furniture and set them down where Allison chose then after bidding the removal men thanks, they settled down to a celebratory ‘cuppa’ and a chat.

“So, obviously, you’re all ready for Tuesday.” Allison smiled.

“Actually, we’re going up on Monday, Dad’s helping Marty and me because his car is bigger and he returns to Birmingham instead of back here.”

“Looking forward to college?” Fred asked.

“You bet. Marty and I are booked into the same accommodation hall.”

“You just concentrate on your studies young lady.” Allison smirked knowingly.

“And you make sure Mum and Terry don’t find out about my living here or in London.” Georgie cautioned.

“So you’ve still not resolved any issues then?” Allison sighed sympathetically.

“Not with the step-father. Less seen, soonest mended.”

“We’ll have to keep in close touch then, cos your mum’s got an open invitation to come and see me.”

“I’ll make a point of phoning you every time I’m coming down from uni. Come on, let’s go to the pub, this’ll be my last night at home until Christmas.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, the girls and their mountains of luggage rode with Georgie’s dad Trevor up to London. With lumps in their throats, Dot and Sam waved them off.

“I’ve only known her for what, seven months; and I already feel like an empty nester.” Dot sniffed.

“Oh com oo-on!” Sam chided her. “She’ll be here, home for Christmas, before you know it.”

The journey to London reflected the nature of the academic year. It seemed to Georgie and Marty that nearly every other car on the M4 was taking students ‘up to col’ and they had all decided to go a day early to avoid the rush.

“Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Marty chuckled as they sat stuck in the Traffic Jam on the Hammersmith flyover.

“Will this make you late dad?” Georgie asked.

“No. It’s all in hand. I’m not going into the office until tomorrow.”

“Oh. So what are you doing tonight?”

“I’ll not be going out with you two. Freshers week is all about breaking from parents. You’re living in hall now, get used to it.”

Eventually, they reached the halls and checked in with their registration forms to get their keys. An hour later they watched Georgie’s father Trevor, driving to some place on the south side of the river while they turned to unpacking.

“Your dad obviously knows his way around. I never thought that you could choose adjoining rooms.”

“All he had to do was make it easy for the bursar’s clerk to appoint us by waiting until she had a convenient slot available. It’s not always the early bird who catches the worm.”

Marty grinned as she looked down from her window onto one of the rare scraps of lawn to survive the recent expansion binge of new-build accommodation. Most of what had been pleasant lawns a decade ago had become new halls of residence and learning centres. Georgie stood beside Marty and sighed.

“You can see why students are not allowed cars in Hall.”

Marty nodded as she scanned the introduction package.

“It says here that once you’ve unpacked and got your bearings, a good move is to visit the Student’s Union. That’s where all the clubs and societies have set up shop. There’s also a large information centre and shop supplying essential stuff.”

Georgie grinned as she wrapped an arm around Marty’s waist and gave a brief hug.

“I’ve got my essential stuff right here.”

Marty giggled and leaned towards the bed causing Georgie to flop beside her and for several minutes silence ensued as the pair learned that single bed in university halls really mean that – single beds! After almost sliding off the bed, the pair sat up and looked at each other.

“This won’t do.”

“We could turn one room into a study and put both beds in the other room. We’re lucky we’ve got a corner room that will take two beds.”

“Yeah,” Marty observed. “It must have been for two students sharing back in the day.”

“Lucky us,” Georgie mused. “If we’re going to move beds, best we do it before the hall fills up. The less people who see, the less hassle.”

It took less than five minutes to move one bed to the larger corner room then put the two unitised study-desks back-to-back so the pair faced each other while studying in the smaller room. More importantly, nobody saw them do it.

“D’ you think the authorities will object?” Marty wondered.

“Dunno,” Georgie replied, “We’re over eighteen.”

Once they’d re-arranged their furnishings, the pair went in search of the Student’s union building and social research.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you’re mostly a political activist society then?” Georgie observed as the pair spoke to a representative of the LGBT community.

“How would you see us?” The club member asked.

“I was thinking more along social lines, you know; dancing, club nights and such.”

“There’s plenty of that in the Student’s union most weekends, well – every weekend really.”

“Do you get much bother?”

“Not in the union. Outside it’s different, even on the campus and particularly the streets. There’s lots of CCTV on the campus though. Sometimes there’s friction in outside clubs but there’re plenty of gay clubs where you’re safe. Here is a map where we deem it safer to go. Some areas are not safe whether your gay or straight. Our society is big on information and safety. If you join we disseminate lots of info regularly about any new dangers.”

Georgie and Marty departed with the literature and went to the refectory to eat.

“Shall we join?” Marty asked.

“It can’t do any harm,” Georgie replied. “If we don’t want to, we don’t have to get involved in the political stuff.”

“Provided it doesn’t try to get involved with us.” Marty concluded.

“How would that come about?” Georgie mused.

“We’re living openly as lesbians and lots of Terfs happen to be lesbians. Once our relationship becomes public there’s bound to be lesbians in the college who invite us to join their Terf organisation. Hall is a veritable hotbed of gossip and misinformation. I give it two weeks before we’re invited to join the Terfs.”

“We can just refuse.” Georgie shrugged. “I’ve had my op and I’m registered at the college as a female. Who’s to find out? We just keep ourselves to ourselves.”

After further discussion, the pair cautiously decided to join the LGBT society and bought tickets for the LGBT freshers ball. Then, after that first tentative dip into the LGBT pond, they concentrated on their studying. They quickly recognised that their pre-college relationship removed them from ‘the hunt’ that most students experienced in the first months of college. Friends they found and made aplenty, but their relationship removed the teenaged urgency to find a sexual partner. This aspect suited Marty more than Georgie because she found her academic work harder going then Georgie and she needed more time to complete her work. Consequently Georgie found herself occasionally alone in the Union and being drawn into meetings of the LGBT club. It was at one of these meetings that she was approached by a small group of Terfs who presumed she was a Cis-gendered lesbian.

“You’re alone tonight then?” Their group leader ventured. “Where’s your partner, the other pretty girl?”

Georgie looked up as she realised the Terf had not ‘clocked’ her. To avoid conversation and any potential for a disturbance, she replied monosyllabically, “studying”

“You seem to have time to spare.”

Georgie shrugged as she realised the Terf group were probably ‘on the prod’, so she kept her answers brief and uncontentious.

“She’s on a different course, it requires more writing up.”

“Have you thought about devoting your spare time to doing something more productive?”

“Like what?” Georgie queried cautiously.

“Well protecting women in women’s spaces.”

“No, I’ve never thought to do that. It sounds like something violent. Besides, I don’t think this is a ‘woman’s space’, here in the union.”

The Terf squinted suspiciously.

“We were talking about women’s toilets and such.”

“Where we? I thought I was talking about the student’s union building.”

“So do you not believe women need protecting?”

“I did not say that; don’t try to put words into my mouth.”

“So what do you believe in?”

“I haven’t given belief much thought, I’m studying physics. That’s facts, figures and reality as I understand it. Not much time for beliefs or religions but plenty of room for thinking, - deeply.” She added just to needle the gang.

Having said this, Georgie finished her coffee in one gulp then stood up abruptly and returned her mug to the dish stacker rack before departing without another word. It was as clear a message as she could give that she was not interested in contention. The Terfs watched her leave and Georgie wondered whether they might have clocked her slightly masculine gait. If they had, no mention was made as she left.

Glad to be clear of any potential argument, Georgie nevertheless took a circuitous route home to hall. She knew they could find her soon enough if they tried, but for now she deemed herself safe. In their bedroom she flopped down on the bed and sighed. Marty immediately picked up on her mood.

“Trouble ‘t mill love?”

“Aye; bloody Terfs!” Georgie cursed. “They asked me to climb aboard their chariot of fire.”

Marty immediately understood the allusion and grinned.

“So what did you say?”

“Told them I wasn’t interested in violence.”

“So obviously, they didn’t clock you.”

“Nah. I don’t think so.”

“Perhaps you could join them and go undercover.”

“No thanks, being trans is risky enough. Trouble is, some of their argument is persuasive to others and if enough poison takes root, it makes it harder for us. You could join if you want, - undercover that is -“.

“Not me love, besides I’m known to the police.” Marty whispered.

“Oh bullshit love. A few juvenile shoplifting escapades hardly makes you Mr Big! Besides you stole milk and sugar for god’s sake.”

“Yeah, mum was finding things tough.”

Georgie knew the situation at home for Marty with five siblings and a sick dad who earned low income. Sympathetically, she reached out and pulled Marty between the sheets and that led to more mutual reassurance as they snuggled together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~