The Real Me - Chapter 8

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Walk home the long way, not that passage where the yobs hang out.’ ‘Yes. Thanks, Rache, but don’t worry. There are two girls living our way and I’ll walk with them. Bye.’ ‘OK. Bye.’ Rachel realized Dannie had already gone. So far so good, well so she hoped because she’s not sure whether Daniella would worry her with the truth. She rather thought she sounded strained. By lunchtime, she thought she at least understood the background to the brief she studied.

She went to the loo and powdered her nose, as the saying goes, actually just making sure she had no blemishes of escaped makeup or lashes and renewed her lipstick. She texted Dannie. ‘Eating lunch so just snack tonight. Eat at school?’ She made sure her clothes were properly tucked, sprayed a little perfume in the air, and walked through the spray. She found Richard Moss waiting for her in the foyer.

‘Good, let’s go then, Rachel.’ They left the office and walked the four hundred yards to the Black Cap Inn. Richard Moss is a man of forty-five, young, athletic in build. Rachel knew that he worked out. She knew he was married with three children, aged from fifteen down to ten, two girls and a boy. She had met his wife, Olivia, a spectacular brunette of Italian descent, whose grandfather had been a prisoner of war in England and had never returned to Italy.

Richard is old school in manners, opening doors, and walking on the outside of the pavement. It was the public school that

would have made her socialist juices run but she had learned not to judge people by their background but by their actions. Richard was demanding but kind and a gentleman. Rachel found they had a table booked in this legal hangout.

‘So, tell me about home Rachel,’ Richard said after they had ordered. Rachel told him of Daniella, finding her asleep in her dance dress. She tried to explain her mother’s change in attitude, although she hardly understood that herself. ‘I was just thinking on the way to work, if things become impossible at home, then I’ll move out and I’ll take Daniella with me.’

‘That’s a lot of responsibility for you to take on. Is there no other way?’ She tells of the violence towards Mum and Dannie. ‘I don’t think the fact that she’s now in a skirt will save her, maybe the reverse. Dad will never understand.’ She told of her mother’s suggestion of faith-healing.

‘Really? Oh dear, I thought that had all been exposed as hokum.’ Richard said. ‘So did I.’ They move to discuss the case. ‘A nasty business.’ Richard said. ‘I’m sorry for the deceased’s sons. This is not of their making, their father left a tangled legal web behind, drawn up by incompetent lawyers it seems to me, a tax avoidance scheme, that has gone wrong.’

‘Not a tax fiddle though. A genuine attempt to look after the sons’ interests, drawn up when the boys were still young, too young to take over the business. The big mistake was not revising it, but then the old man, could not let go, and would not hand over the reins, even when the boys were old enough. He wouldn’t trust them and so they lost interest, and the trust was not changed.

When the old man finally died, the sons came into their own, but immediately ran up against the greed of the Trustees, to whom the old man had made vague or certain promises. As in all cases, there are rights and wrongs on both sides. However, it is our duty to eliminate the threat from the Trustees who have done nothing to forward the interests of the company but seek to increase their influence and hold over the factory.’

‘Thank you for the synopsis, Richard. The whole case makes complete sense now. I was getting bogged down in the to and fro of increasingly angry emails.  I hardly understand, what these Trustees hope to achieve unless it is to grab control.’ ‘It’s not in black and white, but word of mouth, the old man-made promises of shares for the trustees, yet the will made no mention. That I believe is the prime motivator of their action.

They will try to prove that the old man’s true intent was thwarted by his family and his ill health. ‘The old man left a can of worms, didn’t he? Are the sons managing the factory satisfactorily?’ ‘According to their solicitor and accountant, yes. They are diversifying, and investigating new revenue sources, against the advice of the trustees who want the firm to run on more traditional lines.

You need to dig into the laws of trusts and examine this trust, line by line.’ ‘Of course.’ They returned to work. Rachel rang Daniella and found the phone switched off. She texted and received an answer thirty minutes later, obviously from when Dannie was between lessons. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Even with that message, Rachel was not reassured.

She couldn’t wait to return home and see Daniella and read in her face, how the day really went. Yet duty came first. She must get to grips with the case before her and unravel what had really gone wrong in this trust. Family feuds are always messy and unraveling this one could make or break her career. At five-thirty, she left the office with a full briefcase and drove the three miles to the family home, a three-bedroom semi in a lower-middle-class district, that her mother had inherited from her parents.

In her grandparents’ day, this was a respectable area. Rachel had hoped to rise out of such surroundings and had for a time until her father started disappearing for weeks at a time. She wondered whether he kept a mistress elsewhere. Rachel was not a snob by any means, but she was ambitious to succeed, to acquire a better standard of living in nicer surroundings than she had experienced in her childhood.

Social mobility, rising to a higher social stratum, was what a good state education system promised, and Rachel had embraced school, worked at her books, participated in clubs and sports, and made it to a good university to study for a useful degree. Yet family loyalty had pulled her back down into this rather mean street.

As she parked her second-hand Golf in the neglected little front garden, she sighed. She made up her mind then, that as soon as she could, she would get out of there, find a comfortable flat in a good block of similarly upwardly mobile twenty-somethings, and not look back. If that meant taking Daniella with her, she would. At this time though, she seemed to have enough problems, and leaving Mum in the lurch seemed too cruel.

She had expected her mother to part from her husband, their father, but despite his brutality, his cruelty to Daniel, and his violence, it appeared Mum was prepared to give him yet another chance. Rachel called out. ‘I’m home. Are you there Dannie?’ ‘In my room.’ She went up to her own room, changed into jeans and a top, and knocked on Dannie’s half-opened door. She found her at her desk doing homework.

‘What are you doing?’ ‘Just finishing this algebra.’ ‘And have you any more to do?’ ‘No, that’s all, all done.’ ‘You’re sure?’ ‘Yes Sis, trust me.’ ‘I’ll have a look later. OK, then I’ll do a bit of tea. You had lunch?’ ‘Yes, with the girls, my protection squad.’ ‘Good. Eggs on toast? Is that all right?’ She took in what Dannie was wearing, a blue mini and a little white top, both bought on Saturday.

‘I’m coming to help.’ ‘If you’ve really finished your work?’ ‘Just done, almost. A couple of minutes and I’ll be down.’ ‘OK, Daniella. You look nice. That lipstick suits you.’ Dannie turns and smiles, and blushes. Rachel leaves the room and descends the stairs. She hopes to hear about Dannie’s day as they eat their tea. She finds she is quite excited by Dannie, watching, noting his, her transformation. It’s so fascinating.

Her speech has changed, no longer the voice and language of a street kid. Rachel wondered how that happened. Rachel had always been more mother than a sister to a child ten years younger than she, so she found it easy to take on the responsibility. Her love and affection for Dannie was that of a mother rather than a sibling. As an intelligent young woman with a good education, she understood the trans syndrome theory.

She had read much, yet she found her brother’s joy in wearing female clothing, expressing herself as a girl, mystifying. She tried to reverse that, imagining herself adopting male dress. That would do nothing for her. She kept reminding herself, that it was a matter of identity. Dannie identified as a girl and therefore wanted what other girls enjoyed. That included pretty clothing, in smooth, pretty, and light materials.

Even so, Dannie selected undies that were prettier than her own. However, Jenny and Lisa had encouraged Dannie down that path. When Rachel considered Daniella’s penchant for ultra-feminine clothing, she came to the conclusion that she was overcompensating, going slightly over the top after a life of denial, like a kid let loose in a sweetshop, Dannie was gorging on all the good things she could now have.

While she feared for Dannie, his change, the difference between him, and her made Rachel smile. Dannie was now a nicer person, more open, more affectionate, more honest. Before, she had been a closed book, a shrinking shadowy child. When they parted that morning, he had called her Mum. Well, she was Mum to her kid sister and she would be, in all the best connotations the name suggested.

‘How was it?’ Daniella looked up shyly. ‘School? It was OK, I mean mixed but better than I expected. Jenn and Lisa had raised an army of mostly girls, so they sort of surrounded and protected me.’ ‘No nastiness, then?’ Rachel couldn’t believe it. ‘Yeah, of course, the usual gang of bullies, making silly noises, trying to jostle.

I just avoided them, stayed in the gang.’ ‘And did they have lots of questions?’ ‘Yes, lots I don’t answer. I just tell them websites to look at if they really want to know.’ ‘Good. You need to protect your privacy, and your dignity. It’s everyone’s right to have a private life, even in school. Well done. You’re sure you’ve done all your homework?’ ‘Yes Sis, honest. I heard you yesterday. I’m going to work hard, especially now I feel so much happier.

A huge burden that’s been killing me, has been lifted.’ ‘Even though the bullies are still targeting you?’ ‘Yes, Rache. I feel free and excited about being me. I feel pride in being me, like out and proud. I understand that now.’ ‘Good girl. I’m so proud of you. Now solemn promise little sister, anything worrying you, you tell me, understand!’ ‘Yes, and Mum.’ ‘Me first. Mum is preoccupied with their father coming home, whenever that may be.

I think weighed down with that, fearful of not taking him back and fearful of having him back. After over three weeks of peace, I think we should just cut him out. What do you think?’ ‘You know I hate him.’ ‘Well, you sure don’t have any reason to love him. Though he doted on me, we all lived as though walking on the glass when he was about. A drink or two and he could turn. I hated his bad temper and violence, the threatening atmosphere.’ ‘Don’t need to tell me Rache.

I can still feel the blows. It’s a wonder I haven’t turned into Smike.’ ‘Smike? Oh, in Nicholas Nickleby. I see what you mean. Yes, frightened and flinching. Dad could be Wackford Squeers.’ ‘He frightens me. I dread him coming back.’ ‘Yes, yes so do I. Look, Mum, I hate to say, but we can’t depend on her. She’s just as terrified as you but she’ll do anything to keep the peace, even siding with him. If life is too much, I shall leave home.

No, don’t look like that, don’t worry, I’ll take you with me.’ ‘What about Mum though, left here with that thick-headed ape?’ ‘He’s not so bad as long as he hasn’t been drinking. That’s when he gets really nasty.’ ‘He’s always nasty with me.’ ‘Well, now you’re a girl, maybe he won’t be.’ ‘Do you really think he will understand transgender? He won’t.’ ‘Well, let’s not think about that.

Everything was OK at school? Jenny and Lisa had done a good job, then?’ ‘Yes, they had phoned all the girls in our form and two or three boys. There were quite a lot of smirks and questions and things and Mr Calder always addressed me as Miss Artherton, whereas he calls all the girls by their first names, so that’s annoying.’

‘It must be. Let me make a note. I’ll speak to him about it. If that doesn’t work, then I will speak to the Head. What about the loos?’ ‘I use the girls. No one said anything. Obviously, I can’t use the boys, I’d get beaten up and I don’t want to use the staff ladies or anything. I just want to be the same as all the other girls.’ ‘So, you should be.

Has any decision been made about gym or games?’ ‘No, nothing. I’d find changing difficult.’ ‘Of course, you would. I’ll ring the head tomorrow and see what arrangements they’ve come up with. Right, now I want to see your homework, then I have homework to do, so you’ll be content to watch TV?’ ‘Yes, Rache. Rache, thanks for looking after me.

I couldn’t have a better sister.’ ‘I couldn’t have a nicer sister either. Make sure your clothes are all ready for the morning. You above all people have to look right, or those kids will find fault.’ ‘I want to look right. I like to be, try to be perfect.’ ‘Good girl. Any problems, you come to me, not Mum.’ ‘OK, Rache. Rache, can we kiss?’ Rachel looked at her, three inches shorter, and stood so innocently. It was so right, she thought.

How cruel nature can be to inflict such a tragedy on a child, giving a girl a boy’s body. ‘Of course, we’re sisters, we can always kiss.’ She pulled Dannie in and hugged her tightly, then kissed her lips lightly and both cheeks. ‘There, sweetheart. Watch TV and then bed at nine.’ ‘Rache, I love you so much’ Rachel looked at her innocent little sister. ‘I know you do, just as I love you.

We have always been great together, haven’t we? And we always will be.’ ‘But Rache, it must be difficult for you, I mean, I’m not like, normal. That’s why Dad hates me and Mum, she’s not really sure either.’ ‘Come here, cuddle.’ Rachel clasped Daniella to her, Dannie’s head down on her chest where she can’t see Rachel’s tear-filled eyes. They sit silently while Rachel gains control of her emotions. Her little sister’s affection has really got to her.

‘Now listen to me, darling. You can’t help how you are. Sometimes nature plays cruel tricks, and when you see some people and their struggle with all sorts of birth defects, you are so lucky. You are a good-looking young girl but with some disadvantages. Don’t take any notice of people who are anti-trans. They just lack understanding and charity. I couldn’t wish for a nicer sister. I’ll never let you down. Let’s take half an hour, watch Friends or one of those comedy serials, then I’ll do my work.

Then we can have a hot drink and I want you in bed at nine.’ ‘OK, Rache. I love your perfume.’ That was the new regime, the two of them. Dannie would never see her mother except on Saturday and Sunday mornings for a couple of hours. They might have been in a family of just two. The next day Rachel phoned the head and tried to sort out gym arrangements.

They hadn’t thought but said Mrs. Courtney, assistant head, they would look into that and other arrangements. This situation, having a trans child was all-new, she said. Rachel suggested that in view of the explosion in trans numbers, they would soon have other such children. She mentioned Mr. Calder and his unusual way of addressing Dannie. Mrs. Courtney said she would see that Daniella was treated the same as all the other girls. Rachel took her papers through to Richard Moss. They discussed the case.

‘I’m sorry to say, it does look to me Richard, as though the farm has paid too little tax over the years and the death duties have been completely avoided, quite legally. The trust was badly drawn and I’m sorry for the mother and her three boys, who have become victims of bad law and bad accounting. To that extent, the Trustees have a point, however, they were party to the drawing up of the Trust, so some of the blame rests on their shoulders.’ ‘Good. So, what have you done?’, ‘I’ve noted everything, I’ll type it out and send a copy, then we need to discuss.

I’ll arrange a meeting with Harry on finance and accounting. We need a whole team on this.’ ‘Good. You look a little pale Rachel. Are you OK or is it burning the midnight oil on this?’ ‘No, it’s the maternal worries. No, I’m not pregnant, but just being a mum to Daniella. Mother can’t deal with it, and, as you know father is away but we think, returning this week.

He will not take kindly to a son who has become a girl, outwardly, going to school as a girl. There are a lot of dangers there too. I had to ring the school this morning because Daniella wasn’t sure what the arrangements were for her to do gym and sports.’ She told him about Mr. Calder and his address of Miss Artherton. ‘That could be considered a form of discrimination.’ Richard says. ‘Yes, well I raised that too.

I’m worried that she will be bullied, but she seems to have a protective screen of friends around her. They don’t protect her on the way home though. It’s a worry.’ ‘It must be. It won’t affect your work?’ ‘No, no I don’t think so, though I may move out, find a flat and take Daniella with me.’ ‘If we can help?’ ‘Thank you, Richard. If you hear of a nice flat in a good area, and in the Academy catchment area?

I’ll phone a few estate agents. I’m not going to let all this interfere with my work here though but I’ll certainly ask if we need help.’ The week passed. School announced Dannie would change in the ladies’ staff toilets and do normal girls’ sports, netball, tennis, and any of the traditional boy's sports she fancied, football and cricket, in which girls were now participating. She chose to do netball and tennis.

There was some bullying, shouting dirty jokes, and ribald laughter. Some from girls too, even titters from one or two supposed friends. It hurt. Every titter, every male guffaw that seemed to come from somewhere in their bellies, was like a knife wound. From where she found the strength, she hardly knew, but somehow, she managed to ignore it, give no notice, and held her head high. Jenny and Lisa, in particular, but also Len Bateman and Francesca Green would sometimes square up to the idiots.

Every evening, when Rachel came in, her first question was, ‘How was school?’ and Dannie would answer ‘Fine’. The next question was, ‘Have you done your homework?’ ‘Yes, Rachel’ or ‘Nearly, do you want to test me?’ Rachel would test her and they would cook their tea together.

The week went by and then another and still, their father did not appear. Rachel and Dannie hoped he was gone for good. Mother looked more and more miserable. Rachel asked her, ‘Well, have you heard anything from him?’ ‘Two weeks ago, he was working on a big deal. He was in Spain, I’m sure he was because someone was speaking in what sounded like Spanish, spoke like it was a crossed line.’ ‘We don’t get crossed lines Mum. That’s something from days gone by.’

‘Well someone was talking in the background then.’ ‘Maybe he is in Spain. He knows a lot of fugitives over there. Mum, I hope he stays there.’ ‘So do I Rachel. That doesn’t mean I’m ditching him.’ Rachel couldn’t understand her mother. It was just illogical to still welcome Dad back. At the same time, Rachel and Dannie became ever closer.

Dannie had become her beloved daughter as well as her sibling. Dannie had always worshipped her older sister but their relationship had changed. Now Dannie not only idolized her clever lawyer sister but loved her as a daughter loves a mother. It was a peculiar relationship. There was nothing Dannie would not do for Rachel who had become, a friend, confidant, and virtual mother.

If need be, Dannie thought, I would kill for her. Those first weeks after she transitioned, Dannie seemed to walk on clouds. Below the clouds, were the snide comments, the dirty laughs, the occasional grope, and her father’s expected return. Above the clouds that carpeted her world, there was sunshine and joy, the ecstasy of being herself at last, even though her deformity aggravated her all the time, that thing down below, like a thorn in her side.

There was also the mutual love of Rachel Even with the nonsense at school, she felt free at last, escaped from the shell that had covered her. She became more female in her movements and how she expressed herself without the carapace of maledom that had burdened her. She was not afraid to display affection, disaffection, distaste, joy, liking, or any emotion. She felt free, a bird released from its cage.

Now she stood up to bullies, and verbally gave back as good as she got. She loved her clothes, even her school uniform. She even began to like school and her work improved dramatically. The one dark shadow was the always imminent reappearance of her father. He didn’t appear and he didn’t appear. It was according to Mum, always next week. Danny began to hope it would be never. Jenny kept an eye out for Dannie and tried to include her in everything.

It was Jenny who lent her a bicycle that had been her older sister’s, and Dannie would ride the mile to see her, or Jenny the other way around, once the evenings had drawn out as full summer approached. Dannie’s relationship with Rachel was cemented. Even their mother seemed more accepting. When Mum was home, which was rare as she continued to work every hour she could, she would teach Dannie to cook or sew. Together, they made a summer skirt for Dannie.

Rachel observed and was pleased. This is how it should be, she thought. ‘Thanks, Mum. It’s super, all the more so because we made it together.’ Daniella said, kissing her Mum. ‘Why does that mean so much?’ Her mother asked, genuinely puzzled. ‘Because it’s the sort of thing a mother and daughter do together isn’t it.’

She kissed her Mum’s cheek. Mum smacked Dannie playfully on the backside. Rachel watching hoped this was a sign that her mother was truly accepting the transition at last. She was bound to be disappointed. As the weeks went by and their father stayed away, Mum retreated into her shell again and it appeared, found Daniella’s girliness and aggravation. ‘Don’t flounce.’

‘Don’t exaggerate your girliness.’ ‘Don’t use lipstick.’ ‘Do you have to speak in that way?’ That last when Dannie was requesting to go to the Mall with the girls during the half-term holiday. Dannie looked hurt when these criticisms were made. Rachel remonstrated with her mother and her mother looked hurt. All this spelled out that Mum had not yet ‘got it’.

To Rachel, there was nothing wrong with Daniella’s slightly exaggerated girlish behavior. She was just a rather expressive teen girl, different from the boy Daniel. Daniella was a girl. Daniel had been a girl trying to be a boy. Her mother’s lack of understanding annoyed Rachel and hurt Daniella.

Rachel was busy at work. There were new cases she worked on, as well as the continuing saga of the trust dispute, that seemed to become even murkier. She became involved in an employment rights case on behalf of a trans-woman who had been wrongfully and constructively dismissed by her employer. She interviewed the plaintiff. She found herself in the presence of a woman who was well over six feet tall and had the shoulders of a rugby player.

She found through conversation that Julia had been an army sergeant, and weapons instructor and had indeed played rugby for the regiment. In her conversations, she found that ex-sergeant Robert, now Davina, had served two tours in Afghanistan and had been awarded a CGC and bar, Conspicuous Gallantry Cross, and a Mention in Despatches in the face of an enemy as cunning and ruthless as the Taliban.

Yet here he, she was, sat with her, in a dress, bracelets rattling on her wrist as she gesticulated. She was a nice-looking but large woman. The interview opened Rachel’s eyes to the trans syndrome. Whereas her little brother had always presented as a girly boy, here was someone who had undoubtedly been brave, a real man, one would have thought, but who had nevertheless struggled with gender dysphoria.

Then the thought occurred that there were now women out there doing all sorts of jobs that had been at one time the preserve of men, including fighting on the frontline or flying fast jet fighters, and who were nevertheless, women, in all the essential ways and inclinations. This ex-Marine Sergeant, was a woman, except she had a male body.

Davina had tried to live the life of a man and found it progressively more impossible with each year’s passing. This was not essentially business law, but Rachel, because of her knowledge and understanding of LGBT matters, had become the LGBT ‘expert’ in the company by default, no one else wanted the job. Richard, ever her champion, pushed her forward.

Rachel realized that her little brother had come out just in time before testosterone wreaked havoc on her looks with secondary sex characteristics of facial hair, musculature, and the growth spurt of the male of the species, in height, the width of shoulders, and hardening of the features. Rachel started to read more and more about the science behind the trans syndrome.

The science was as fascinating as were the victims. The victims, as displayed by Dannie and Davina, were as varied as the species of say, birds. Not all feminine men were trans, and not all transwomen were particularly girlie, just as women varied in attitude. She began to wish she had studied medicine or psychiatry, trans was so intriguing. What science there was, pointed to changes deep in the hypothalamus, sometimes variations that appeared tiny, but affected a whole life.