Dot and Sam 37

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.

Chapter 37

In the student’s union we got several accusative glares but no questions or threats. We had made our reasons for not visiting Rosie the Rivetter quite clear and most of the LGBT society at least sympathised with our views even if they thought we were a little harsh not to at least pay a brief visit. Apparently most of our academic year had gone to see her but I secretly suspected that a lot of their supposed sympathy or concern, was just curiosity.

Even so, as we danced away, one of the Student’s Union officers stopped by as we paused at the bar.

“I’d have thought you might have used this incident to find a way to offer Rosie an olive branch,” he suggested.

I pulled a wry smirk as I countered.

“She’s had half the Spring term to make her peace but she’s chosen not to. I just keep my distance and avoid TERFs whenever I can. It’s easier and safer for me since the earlier incidents when I was outed. Besides, I’m not the aggressor.”

“She was seriously injured you know; her attacker’s being held on attempted murder charges.”

“I know what her injuries were. There’s even a notice describing them on the Union notice board. The police are still asking for witnesses. Do I have to remind you that I was in Manchester all day – Saturday and Sunday. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“You do know she want’s to speak to you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I was told the moment I returned to Hall on Monday night. Her toadies couldn’t wait.”

“I still think you should agree to speak to her.”

I shook my head as I gave him my parting words and turned to walk back to my friends.

“She’s the leader of what amounts to a violent gang that have assaulted me once and abused me twice; not to mention my being harassed whenever they get the chance. That’s my last word.”

Marty watched me as I picked my way across the floor with two large classes of white wine. As I caught her eye I noticed her smile change to concern as her jaw sagged. Ever alert to assault, I looked about me only to see a determined member of Rosie’s gang making a bee-line towards me. She was one of the TERF heavies.

I was about to take avoiding action when a figure stepped past me and used his large male frame to block the TERF’s approach. The girl literally bounced off him and fell on her arse with a squawk of frustrated anger. The guy made a show of apology as he reached down to lift her to her feet while she was still gasping for breath.

I was left gaping in appreciative amazement as he ‘helped’ the TERF to a chair at a table far across the dance floor, far from our LGBT group. I watched him say something to the TERF then I resumed picking my way to the table. Moments later he came over to us as Marty’s eyes widened and I hastily placed our drinks down while not sure what to expect.

When he reached us he raised his open palms and indicated he was not bringing trouble. Then he spoke softly.

“I’m from the rugby club. We’ve heard about the troubles you guys have been having. It wont happen again or, if it does, they’ll have us to face.”

Marty and I were struck dumb as he turned to talk to one of the gays from our LGBT table. The gay boy offered our mutual thanks.

“Cheers Brian. I’ll buy you a drink in a minute. Does that mean these two have protection?”

Brian nodded and Marty lifted her glass as she declared.

“Seem’s like somebody has recognised our case, thanks Brian. I’ll see you right.”

As our new-found protector moved out of earshot I turned to Marty,

“I hope he doesn’t take that the wrong way.”

“He won’t,” the gay boy explained, “Brian’s bi, but mostly a bear. Look at the size of him, that TERF bounced off him like a ‘ping-pong’ ball.”

I smiled and shrugged slightly.

‘Takes all sorts,’ I told myself.

Later that evening I met Brian the rugby player at the bar as we were buying ‘last orders’.

“Thanks for your support earlier. You seem a bit old for a student.”

“I’m a mature student; late developer you might say.”

“Did you go to the protest march?” I asked.

“Nah. I took the police advice and stayed away. Plus I had an important match. My female friend took our son to watch me. I’m second row.”

“Your son?!” I asked curiously.

“Yeah she’s his mother and she’s gay. She and her partner each have a child by me. They live as a couple with the children and I live a couple of doors down in the same street. The kids stop by my house each afternoon on their way home from school, because their mums work.

Apart from lectures, I work from home and the kids always stop by after school.”

“Sounds like a good arrangement.” I observed. “How do the mothers view it?”

“It works, mostly as a platonic arrangement though one of the mothers very occasionally stops over at my house. She’s like me, mostly gay but with a bit of bi.”

“And they’re happy with that? The other girl I mean.”

“If they weren’t happy, it would stop. They control the arrangement.”

“And the kids?” I asked as I made sense of his words.

“They think they’re well off. There’s always one parent to help them or drive them places. Anyway,” he finished as he turned from the bar, “ here’s my mobile number if you ever need me. You know I and my rugby friends are here if you have trouble from the TERFS; and give my love to blondie.”

“Blondie? Oh, you mean Marty, my partner.”

“Yeah, the rugby-clubs’ pin-up girl. You’re a lucky girl.”

I could not be offended by Brian’s machismo envy so I gave him a sympathetic smile and we parted ways to our respective tables.

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

I decided to delay visiting Rosie until she was removed from the I.C., ward then I chose the Saturday evening. I had reasoned that most, if not all Rosie’s TERF friends would be out ‘Saturday-nighting’, but I was very much mistaken. It was much busier than I anticipated and I had to wait my turn. Apart from Rosie’s TERF friends, her parents and younger sister had also returned for a second visit from their Farm in Yorkshire.

I met them as we were queuing and on learning who they were I decided to forego my visit. However as I was leaving the hospital, one of Rosie’s lieutenants came running up to me calling my name.

“Georgie. Georgie! Please stop, Rosie want’s to speak to you.”

The fact that she was calling to me in such a public place convinced me she probably had no malicious intent so I paused cautiously beside the reception desk where the security staff were also stationed.

“What d’ you want?” I asked.

“Rosie’s asking for you.”

“Another time,” I replied, “it’s too busy up there right now.”

“But you’re here now, and we saw you waiting outside the ward. What changed your mind.”

“I was in two minds anyway then, when I saw the queue, I changed my mind. I’ll maybe drop by on Sunday night.”

“But they’re discharging her on Monday if everything goes well. It will be your last chance.”

I shrugged to convey my supposed uncertainty. The last thing I intended to do was let any TERFs know my intentions or future whereabouts while travelling alone. That was just inviting trouble.

“Well then," I shrugged. "I’ll possibly meet her in college. Give her my regards and tell her I called but it was too crowded.”

“But she’s got something important to say.”

“Well, I’m not even on speaking terms with TERFs, so she can’t possibly have anything important to say to me.”

“Look, please give her a break and come up to see her now.”

“I’m sorry. It’s late now and I have to cross town back to college. Tell her I’ll see her around.”

I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or irritation I saw in the girl’s expression but it didn’t reassure me so I hailed a cab at the Taxi rank by the hospital main entrance. I still did not trust the TERFs and a Taxi could deliver me safely right up to the doors of Hall.

Once back in Hall, I caught up with Marty and we decided to slip away un-noticed to a gay club that made trans-people welcome. To my mild surprise, we bumped into Brian the rugby player and a couple of his gay rugby friends. He made a point of calling to us across the street and we decided to cross.

“Where are you two beauties going?” He asked.

“The Fallen Angel off Little Newport Street.” Marty confirmed.

“Oh that’s only a couple of doors from our Bear Bar. Shall we walk together.”

From our perspective, two pretty girls alone in Soho inevitably invited unwanted approaches, usually from unaccompanied ‘ethnics’ and it invariably necessitated tact coupled with determination to peel them off. Walking with Brian and his mates the few hundred yards from the tube to our clubs avoided what would otherwise have been an irritating gauntlet.

“Thanks Brian,” we offered as we stopped briefly to chat.

“You were getting some stares.” He observed as we grouped next to the end of the queue.

“Yeah,” Marty explained, “if we’d been alone, we’d have had a veritable queue of ethnic botherers trying to latch on to us.”

“That bad is it?” One of Brian’s gay rugby mates observed.

“Yeah. The trouble is, if we tell them go away cos’ we’re not interested, they accuse us of being racist. They somehow seem to think that any unaccompanied women are theirs to claim. That’s what their imams tell them.” Marty explained as I added.

“If you ask why they’re not out with their own girlfriends or women-folk, they say decent women should not be allowed out clubbing together or alone.”

“And?” Brian wondered. “What do you say?”

“We just tell them they cannot be decent, respectable men then, or they would be protecting their own women at home, instead of searching the streets for indecent women.”

The three of them chuckled and remained with us in the queue until we reached the front, then the three of them bid us cheerio after agreeing to share a taxi back to campus when we had finished clubbing. Fortunately, we were attending a gay club so we had little or no trouble once inside.

Inside the club, we savoured the luxury of not having to peel off the ‘clingers’. The vast majority of the men, being gay, were not interested and the lesbians usually studied the girls they fancied first before approaching them. It was usually some attempt to check out if the girl seemed to have a partner. If the girl was obviously ‘attached’ then usually, nothing was done and a regular pair could get on with dancing or chatting with any friends they happened to accompany.

It was just so-oo much easier in gay glubs where boundaries and sexualities were so much better respected. The only precaution one had to take was protecting one’s drink from vermin who liked to try and dose the drink then take advantage of their victim.

Like the vast majority in the club, we simply bought drinks in bottles and kept our thumbs over the tops until the drink was finished.

Towards two o’clock, Marty got a phone call from one of Brian’s friends advising that they were preparing to go home as they had a rugby game the following day. We accepted their offer of a shared taxi and returned back to Hall at three.
It had been a lovely Saturday night and we agreed to do it again with the boys on the clear understanding that we were lesbians and said no to boys. Being essentially gay or bi, they agreed.

I reflected that sometimes, college can be a liberating environment.

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