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The Real Me - Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2022-08-12 14:36:45 +0000 UTCThey left the car and walked in. A waiter, a young kid showed them to a table. ‘What are you drinking, girls?’ The boy asked with a cheeky grin. ‘I’ll have a half of lager. Rachel?’ ‘The same please.’ ‘OK.’ He departs. ‘That’s my brother, Simon,’ Anna said. ‘Oh, I see. That explains his informal manner.’ Anna laughed.
‘Yes, I ‘spouse, and English people mostly don’t get how to give service, do they? They are either obsequious or off-hand. He’s OK, nice kid, hopes to go to Uni wants to do geology, thinks he will find the fossil of some unknown dinosaur or a gold mine.’ ‘Well, he has ambition.’ Rachel said. ‘Yes, he’s still at the age when he thinks he can conquer the World.’ ‘I was never at that age. Too many hang-ups with my family.’
‘You’re serious aren’t you Rache? Do you ever let your hair down and tear up the rule book?’ ‘I suppose I don’t. I’ve sort of had too many worries, even at Uni, I was a swat. I did play hockey for my college.’ ‘Hockey? That wasn’t exactly letting go was it, just a different set of rules.’ Anna says with a quizzical smile. ‘We used to be in high spirits after a win.’ ‘How did you celebrate? A double hot chocolate?’ ‘Ha, ha! OK, I’m a dull lawyer.
Now you’ll tell me you are the life and soul of the police station.’ ‘Hardly. The blokes don’t like women much, it’s better than it was but there’s an attitude that we are there on their backs. They don’t like gay women or men. The usual jokes, back to the wall if a gay copper is about. A lesbian copper, ‘have you grown a cock yet?’
They are full of jokes. The uniform doesn’t make them enlightened humans although they go on courses.’ Simon arrives with the drinks. ‘That took a long time, Si. We were nearly dying of thirst.’ ‘A good customer wanted a big order, always leaves a good tip. Didn’t think you’d mind waiting.’ ‘Yeah well, we are paying too, so two menus and make it snappy.’ He turns away, smirking but his face is red. ‘Cheeky brat.’ Anna says. ‘Is he why we’re here?’ ‘No, the food is good. Thai, I hope that’s OK? I should have asked.’ ‘It’s fine Anna. I’m an omnivore, eat practically anything.’
‘Oh good. I was worried for a minute. Sounds like you’d eat me. Omnivore, no one has ever used that term with me before.’ ‘Well, I do eat most things. Mum made us at least try something before we said we didn’t like it. So, why are we here? Are you on duty?’ ‘For the food. What do you mean?’ ‘Why you, here with me?’ ‘Oh, I thought you would be nice, intelligent company. Thought, perhaps you needed to get out.’ ‘And now?’ ‘Now?’ ‘Have you changed your mind?’ ‘No. I think you are under a lot of stress. I can understand that. I’d like to know what you’re like when relaxed.’ ‘I, Well, I suppose I have become rather serious lately.
My work is demanding and I’m new, so every day, I’m thrown into things I have never come across before. Luckily, I have a good boss. I find you challenging.’ ‘Do you want to go home? If you’re frightened to be out with a gay copper, then I’ll take you home and you can prove how dull you are.’ ‘I’m hungry. Just I never met someone like you before.’ ‘You’re not a homophobe?’ ‘Afraid of you? No, just I find you different to my other girl-friends.’ ‘So you haven’t been friends with a lesbian?’ ‘No, well not knowingly.’ ‘Shall we order? Or do you want to go?’ ‘I want to eat.’
‘Then shall we have the meal for two, just chance our luck. It’s all in Thai unless we ask for the English version. I think Si brought this foreign one as his little joke.’ ‘OK, let’s go for it.’ Anna turns and beckons Si who is kidding around with a waitress. ‘Hey little brother, leave that girl alone and look after the customers.’ ‘You ready to order then?’ ‘You brought us the Thai version, idiot.’ He blushes. ‘Oh yeah, so I did, sorry big Sis.
Is this your latest?’ ‘Simon! Don’t push your luck. This lady is a client.’ He pulls a pad and pen from a pocket. ‘I apologize.’ ‘I should hope so. A bit of respect or I tell Dad. We’ll have the banquet for two and make it snappy or no tip.’ ‘Don’t get mad, sister mine. I’m here, aren’t I? Yes Madam, Banquet for two. Wine?’ ‘No, unless you want any Rachel?’ ‘I might just have a glass but not now.’ The kid swings away. Rachel watches him take the order to the kitchen, banging through the door. She sees him carrying dishes to the table and chatting with the customers. ‘Yeah, he’s a cocky little sod.’ Anna says, seeing her companion is watching her brother. ‘He’s so self-assured, the opposite of Danielle. Is there something between him and the little waitress?’
‘Boyfriend and girlfriend. Inseparable. So, you and Daniella, you’re close?’ ‘Since I returned home, yes. Even more so since she came out to me.’ ‘That must have taken guts for her to do.’ ‘Not really. She was bunking off school, going home, and playing dress-up in my clothes.’ Rachel tells of her discovery of Daniella. ‘You’re a good sister. You’re quite girlie yourself, aren’t you?’ Rachel frowns. ‘I wouldn’t call myself a girlie girl, no.
What makes you say that.’ ‘You dress nicely after I prompted you. You scrubbed up very nicely for me.’ ‘Don’t flatter yourself. Because you saw me really down and worried in jeans, don’t think I’m like that all the time. I like being a girl. Daniella likes being a girl more than me, I think.’ ‘Simon knows Daniella, only by sight. It may be a school of two thousand but Daniella seems to be known to all. Simon says she gets a lot of stick.’ ‘What, from the teachers?’ ‘No, the kids. Didn’t you know?’ ‘No, she said things were all right since she transitioned.’ Simon and the girl, Katy, arrive with dishes and a candle fuelled dish warmer. ‘This is Daniella’s sister Si.’ ‘Yeah, I know. Katy told me, she saw the appeal. We were talking about it.’ ‘Not found her yet?’
Katy asked. ‘We think she’s in London.’ Anna replied. ‘That’s so awful for you. Is it because of the nonsense at school? She puts up with a lot.’ Katy offered ‘No, her father.’ Rachel said. ‘Sorry. We’ll try and look out for her at school, won’t we Si.’ ‘Sure. Just the rice to come for you. Back in a tick.’ When they had everything, they ate in silence apart from small talk about the food. ‘What’s your girlfriend doing tonight with you out?’ Anna shrugged. ‘Dunno. Why do you want to know?’ ‘Just small talk.’ ‘I could smack her at times.’
‘Oh!’ Rachel says, hardly disguising her shock. ‘I don’t, of course, I don’t. But she’s so, dirty.’ ‘How do you mean?’ ‘Eats in the sitting room and just leaves the plate and cutlery on the floor, sometimes the cutlery ends up on the carpet. I do all the washing, and clean the bathroom. She leaves dirty clothing on the floor until I pick it up. She’s a girlie girl but what you might call a sloven. The bathroom’s the same, steam and towel left on the floor, toothpaste in the sink.’ ‘What does she do?’ ‘Studying. What she says, anyway, is architecture.
But I work shifts and come home to a messed-up kitchen, and lounge looking like a doss house. She breaks things too, seems to have a talent for it, the taps, plates, mugs, TV remote. I told her to go last night, said I couldn’t deal with it.’ ‘Is that why you are out with me?’ ‘Partly, and I like you. You’re an intelligent woman. You look really nice. That dress really suits you. I think that blue, is it azure? Whatever, that’s your color. Your eyes are really blue too.’
‘Thank you, you’ll make me blush. You’re a nice looking girl, well you could be, in a nice dress and if you let your hair grow. Your hair’s a pretty color.’ Rachel returns. ‘Pretty?’ ‘Oh, is that too girlie? Perhaps you would prefer handsome.’ ‘I’m supposed to be the one teasing.’ Anna says wryly. ‘I don’t tease, but then, I’m so dull.’ ‘You’re worried. I’m sure you’re not always dull. I don’t think you’re dull, anyway.
I’m sure we’ll get good news tomorrow.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes, really Rachel. When this is over, I hope we can keep in touch.’ Rachel was tempted to ask, “For what?’ Was this gay copper propositioning her? She had never considered being anything but straight, conforming. The thought that this boyish female might try something, made her giggle. It escaped before she could control herself. Anna looked surprised. She frowned. ‘What?’ Rachel just shook her head, still smiling.
‘What?’ Anna asked again. ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil.’ ‘I’m sorry, I thought perhaps you were, well, coming on to me.’ Rachel said, blushing. ‘Oh, did you. Think a lot of yourself? So, what if I was? You said you were an omnivore. You could taste me.’ Now Rachel is embarrassed. ‘I don’t know.’ Anna laughs. ‘You don’t know? Well, that’s better than running from the room and covering yourself.
OK, when we get Daniella back, perhaps the three of us can go out. I’d like to meet your kid sister properly, not as a copper. How about it?’ ‘That would be nice, and a first real girl’s day out for her, perhaps ask her friend Jenny to come too.’ ‘Good. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll pay the bill, then get you home and I need my bed. I’m on an early at seven tomorrow again. I hope we’ll have news by then.’
That afternoon, when Dannie let herself in the house, she sensed something was wrong but could not put a finger on it. She grabbed a glass of water in the kitchen and noted the dirty plate and cup on the table. It was not like a mum to leave dirties about. Even if they were in a hurry to leave the house, Mum would find time, annoyingly, to clean the sink and hang up the dish towel, while Rachel and Dannie stood, coats on, ready to go.
Dannie shrugged and took the stairs to her room. She wanted to get as much homework done as possible before her favorite program Skins, came on TV. She’d had a talk with Mrs. Courtney, assistant head. The chat had been far from ordinary pep talk, asking about her happiness, bullying, and urging her to apply herself to her lessons. Dannie assured her that she was now catching up. When she had difficulties in her studies, Rachel was helping her and she was using online lessons when she didn’t understand. With Rachel away, she still applied herself after first practicing her makeup. Now she knew what the girls used and how, she was perfecting her look, not going over the top.
She wanted above all to fit in. This half-hour play with makeup happened as soon as she was out of her uniform and into her mini and whatever top she fancied. Makeup was a process that always made her smile with joy, the feminine act of emphasizing her female features. It was proof she was free of the masculine prison she had endured for so long. That joyous task completed, she was into her book, first history, a comparison of the two Tudor queens, Mary and Elizabeth. It was quite interesting. She looked up the fashions of the time.
By the paintings that had been done of ladies at that time, clothes might have been warm because of all the layers, but must have been heavy, cumbersome, and very uncomfortable. She wandered from that into studying women’s underwear through the ages. The stays and corsets must have been dreadfully difficult to live in, even to breathe properly. No wonder girls and women, the richer ones, never did anything physical, it would have been impossible.
She wrote her essay, ignoring the fashion but mentioning the numbers of executions carried out on the orders of both these Queens, often on mere suspicion. After that she started on maths, all the typical questions of filling things and calculating volumes. She had to look up how to work out the volume of a cone on the net. At six-thirty, she went down to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, and took it into the sitting room to watch her half-hour program.
Skins had the best music and the best fashions too and it was always the subject of a lot of discussions the next day at school. To be in the swim, one needed to keep up. It was like The Only Way is Essex, a program where ‘ordinary’ Essex young people indulged themselves in over-the-top fashion, tanning, false lashes, nails, and general indulgence. The girls in her gang chattered and laughed about it and some imitated these docudrama ‘stars’ a show based on Jersey Shore. It was funny and informative. The girls loved it and so, Daniella loved it too and it did fascinate her. Hearing a noise in the kitchen, she thought Rachel was home. She opened the door. ‘Dad,’ she said in shock and fear. ‘What the fuck. Who, oh for Christ’s sake. Get that stuff off.
Fuckin’ hell, you bloody little sissy.’ He grabbed Dannie’s hair pulling her head back and wiping his hand roughly across her face, smudging her makeup as Dannie howled in protest. Artherton released her and Dannie ducked under a flailing hand and made for the door. She rushed up the stairs, sobbing in terror. She slammed her door shut and shot the bolt. She picked up her phone to dial Rachel and failed to mess up the code for the USA. At that moment the door crashed open, the flimsy bolt flying across the room. Her father stood there framed in the wreckage.
He tore the blouse from her body, the buttons flying off and a shoulder seam ripping. He took in the little brassiere on the bare white flesh of someone he called his son. He reached to tear that off and Dannie hit out at his hand with her left in a parrying defensive movement. At the same time, she picked up the heavy glass bowl where she kept the few items of makeup she used daily, lipstick, foundation, brow and eyeliners, and a palette of five eye colors as if to throw the bowl at the bull of a man who moved to grab her. The bowl hit her father in the neck serving only to make him angrier.
His fist hit Daniella square on the nose and blood spurted as Dannie howled. Her father, like an angered bull, went berserk, wrecking the whole room, smashing the furniture, throwing anything girlie on the floor as though attempting to eradicate any femininity. Dannie cowered on the bed until that too was overturned, and she found herself upside down between bed and wall, the mattress mercifully covering her and preventing further physical assault. She lay there, sobbing until she quietened to listen for a sign that it was safe. She lay on the floor, the mattress covering her, the bed forming a shield above that, the headboard and footboard completing the shelter. She heard an altercation on the landing, her mother’s high-pitched voice answered by her father’s dark and terrible low-pitched rumble.
She heard her name called but couldn’t move and didn’t dare answer. That was followed by bangs and bumps a scream and silence. The front door gave out its usual squeak of worn hinges in need of an oil and then it slammed shut. A car started and departed. Dazed and only semi-conscious, she lay covered by the mattress and duvet, praying that her father would not return to her room. Dannie believed the car departing would be her mother, so her father would still be below. Her head ached. She felt her forehead and the bruise. She sobbed as quietly as she could and fell into unconsciousness. A doctor would have recognized a concussion. She awakened to hear the front door slam shut once again.
An engine started up and blue lights flashed across the room. A siren blared and more vehicles started their engines and disappeared into the distance. She was left in silence. Gradually, as noiselessly as possible, she extricated herself from the wreckage. Creeping to the door, she listened intently for any sound of human movement. Hearing nothing, she moved down the stairs, holding the banister, her left hand trailing the wall, avoiding the squeaky stairs by supporting her weight on the edge of the stair and banister. The house was in darkness. She was alone. As quickly as her injuries would allow, she retraced her steps to her room. She observed her face in the cracked mirror.
The bruise on her forehead was already blue. Her nose, although tender, seemed unbroken when she gingerly touched it. Moving to the bathroom, she cleaned her face, gently with cotton pads and makeup remover. In the bedroom, she gathered together her collection of cosmetics and carefully, gently, made her face. She knew what she had to do. She could not stay in a house where her father might reappear at any moment. Tipping out her books from her school backpack, she filled it methodically with her clothes that lay strewn across the room. At the last minute, she remembered her T blockers, toothbrush, sponge, and soap that her mum kept in a plastic container. She added a bunch of tissues and a box of paracetamol.
At the last minute, she added her favorite shoes, her highest heels, the two-and-a-half-inch courts she had badgered Rachel for and won by her persistence. Once more she crept down the stairs, opened the front door, and was out, still furtive, still frightened of what danger might lurk. She only had one idea in her head, to get away from the home that had become a nightmare. Her mum’s car was in the drive and so was Rachel’s. She couldn’t make out where everyone was.
Her head ached. She turned her head quickly and her vision blurred. She decided not to do that again. She remembered then, that she hadn’t got her phone. She daren’t go back. She daren’t stay anywhere where he could find her. She thought of Jenny, easily her best friend but if he followed her there, she would die of shame.
No, she needed to get right away. Others had done it and made it a success of their lives. Surely, she could find something in London that would pay, maybe go to drama school. She made her way to the coach station, curled up in a nearby doorway, and hoped she would survive. She awoke cold, shivering cold. She walked around the block and again tried to settle. She shivered, and looked at her watch, willing the minute hand to move more quickly. She awoke to find a young chap kicking her feet.
‘What?’ She said in fear. ‘If you’re waiting for the London coach the station is opening.’ ‘Oh, thanks.’ She said. ‘OK kid,’ he said and walked away to the bus station café. Dannie entered the now open office and used the toilet. She used a tissue to wipe her face and re-made her face. She felt rough, she looked rough. The blue bump on her forehead throbbed. Her mouth was dry and furry. She brushed her teeth, relieved that she had brought paste and a brush, though a hand brush was not like the electric one she used at home. Tears were never far away.
She did her best to look respectable. Slightly refreshed, she ventured out. She bought a coffee and a bun as well as a bottle of water for the journey. She purchased a one-way ticket to the end of the line, Victoria, wherever that was in London. She consumed her bun and the coffee, then entered the coach and sat nervously watching in case her father arrived.
She knew it was an illogical fear, but it was there. Sometimes bad miracles happen and things you hope won’t occur, even the most unlikely, do so. She willed the bus to start. The driver, at last, took his place and yet nothing happened. Then the engine started the door hissed closed and opened again for a late passenger. She prayed it had not opened for her father. Finally, they were away.
Daniella felt safe at last. She soon fell asleep. When she awoke, she found she was no longer alone, a girl sat next to her. Her head throbbed and she felt miserable. Perhaps, it was not worth struggling on she thought. She pictured jumping off one of the bridges in London, falling into the dark oily Thames water, letting go of this difficult life, imagined floating, no longer struggling. She looked miserably out of the coach window, tears in her eyes. The sun was up, lighting an urban scene, the motorway before them, houses and more houses, factories, and in a dip, a row of shops. She imagined all the people in those streets of suburbia, living their mostly unexciting lives, normal people with normal problems of walking the dog and paying the mortgage.
The light in their lives, the annual holiday, the new dog, the new baby or car. Such small things make people happy. All she wanted was to be recognized as a girl, treated as a girl, to live her life in peace. She stretched and remembered where she was and why. Her companion ignored her until Dannie accidentally bumped her. ‘Sorry,’ Dannie said. ‘You were tired. Were you up all night?’ ‘Yes, well mostly.’ ‘That’s a nasty bruise on your forehead? How did you get that?’ ‘My Dad. Nasty drunk.’ She did not hesitate in telling the truth.
Dannie had always been truthful, except for her big secret, her transgender. ‘Are you OK?’ her companion asked. She looked at her seat companion, a young professional by her dress. Dannie bit her lip. She tried not to cry, but her eyes filled. She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘Can’t stay at home. He would kill me.’
