The Weekly Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3430 by Angharad Copyright© 2024 Angharad

---

This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
~~~~~~~~~`
Easter was over so no more holidays until May bank holiday or Spring bank holiday, which was the old Whitsun one. Amazing, I loathe religions but I regret the passing of the names of the holidays, typical hypocrite, I surmised.

Diane was dealing with the post we had received, a collection of three or four days worth, it was quite a pile. Amongst all this verbiage was a personal letter to me. Usually they are from students or their parents looking for a university place, often because their A-levels aren't quite what they had hope, so instead of going to Oxbridge, they write to lesser known unis to try to get on a degree course. I invited Diane to deal with my personal letter while I sneaked off to my office hoping for a snooze or a cuppa if I didn't distract her too much.

Ten minutes later she appeared with a cuppa and my letter which she dropped on my desk, "It really is a personal letter," she said placing my mug on the coaster on my desk.

"That doesn't usually stop you," I quipped meaning that she usually answered on my behalf and I could ignore said correspondence. I picked up the letter, it was hand written on quite nice paper, it was almost an anachronism. Hardly anyone writes letters these days, it's all social media or emails, or if they do write it's on derivative copier paper using a computer which may even produce the signature at the bottom.

I read the contents and could see why she handed it on to me. It was from someone with whom I'd been in school.

'Dear Professor Watts,

You may not remember me, but we were in the same class for several subjects back in Bristol. I can remember you were always in trouble with Murray, the psychopath, and I could never understand how he couldn't see you were really a girl, you gave him so many clues, but his homophobia seemed to make him blind to them. I remember a very clever and attractive girl who was still in the process of discovering who she was, and I can recall you appearing on telly with Simon who was your fiancé, I believe you married him subsequently and I assume it would be in the papers if you had split, but I've seen nothing and hope you are very happy together.

I myself am happily married to Susan with whom I have two children and it is one of these that caused me to write. Like you my son, Paul, has been showing several feminine traits over the years, he is now 16 and is starting to think he may be the wrong gender. Sue and I wonder if that might be the case, so we have parcelled him off to several psychiatrists and psychologists for opinions. He is very shy, as I recall you were, and he doesn't seem to have hit it off with any of those he has so far met. He says perhaps he or should it be, 'she', would like to talk to someone who has been through the transition and your name came to me.

We have allowed him to cross-dress at home and he looks quite presentable as a female, not possibly as attractive as you were in the Lady Macbeth episodes, but I think possibly he could transition to female without too many problems.

It is now affecting him and his schooling and I would very much like your help. I know that successful transsexuals don't want to be reminded of their pasts but we are getting desperate, so please can you help us?

Yours sincerely,
John Barrett.'

I sat and thought about who John Barrett was, if I recalled him correctly, he was a rather quiet studious sort who didn't hang around much with the bullies and the jocks, as they call them in America; he was friendly with one or two of the quieter boys, but I could be wrong. Now, what do I do about this letter? I wasn't sure, part of me felt a need to help others although nobody much helped me until I nearly finished university and Prof Herbert sent me to see Tom, who he knew had dealt with gender identity confusion in his daughter. It was the best thing he could have done and I emerged as Cathy a few months later, especially after running into Stella, or rather she ran into me. I wanted to help but at the same time I did want to think I had finished with this as the kids had grown up, including the trans ones.

I saw that J.K.Rowling had named me and listed me as a man and someone had written and told her I was twice the woman she would ever be. I wanted to forget my previous status but knew that we all had a responsibility to the future generation. I was stuck with a real dilemma, I didn't feel anything for John Barrett, who as far as I know had never interacted with me, except we shared the dissection of a rat if I remembered it right. Yes I did, because he was taken ill after we got the abdominal cavity open and the intestines all displayed. I think I finished the dissection on my own and thoroughly enjoyed it then, despite my feminine traits and I did some good drawings of various bits, including making microscope slides of several of the organs. It was probably the thing I excelled in and got top marks for it which prepared me well for doing it at university. Again, I was in a class of my own as even the lecturer asked me to do some for him at various times, because mine were better than his.

Diane came back with more tea as I had reread the letter perhaps a dozen times. "Well, you going to help him or not?"

"I think you mean am I going to help his child?"

"Indirectly, that's what I asked didn't I?" It wasn't worth getting into an argument over so I said nothing. "Your diary is relatively quiet for a week or so but we start exams in a month's time, so perhaps you'd like to do something soon. I think they'd really appreciate that. I looked at the address, it was on the outskirts of Bristol and I suppose I could check my parent's old house while I was up there. Maybe, I could do an inspection of Des's old place too. As I was thinking this she said, "How about I phone them and see if they'd like to come here or would you prefer to go and see them?"

"I don't know, I'm really undecided."

"Right, I'll phone and decide for you." Before I could say anything she was gone. I drank my tea and wandered out to her office where she was on the phone, "Yes, Mrs Barrett, so Monday is best for you, I think Professor Watts can accommodate that, shall we say ten, right ten it is. Bye."

"What have you just agreed to?"

She was writing in my diary, Bristol trip to see John Barrett, re son. "There, that should be plain enough for you. I looked at the page and felt a dread overwhelm me, some of my encounters with old school colleagues were disastrous, the one that ended with a corpse in my laboratory was one such, and probably the most disastrous. I know when i saw the devastation upon the faces of his parents, the Marlene episode was especially sad. I didn't want to repeat it, as well I was aware that school was miserable, I made a firm friend of Siân and we were still friends. That reminded me, I must go and see her and Kirsty soon and see the baby they have. Anyway, school was miserable, uni allowed me some freedom from my parents but it was also when my father beat me up twice including badly enough to make me consider suicide, which again caused Tom to learn of my gender uncertainty. But after that the fact that I was AIS, caused me to miss a male puberty and meant my response to oestrogens was spectacular, to say the least, meaning I developed into a very female type adult, so transition was relatively easy. Paul Barrett almost certainly, will not be like that or the odds against are very high, even if his father considers him to be quite passable as female, I could be a little more realist and thus more critical, not that I'm any sort of expert, just a graduate from the school of gender incongruence, with so I am told, a very high mark in the practical.

The rest of the week we reverted back to university business and had no further letters concerning children who were different. If there was any excitement it was Diane dealing with a final year student who broke a leg skiing in Austria and how we were going to accommodate them for exams. We agreed, they should be much more mobile by exam time and secretly, didn't have much sympathy for someone who'd flaunted their wealth throughout the course, as if real life had caught them up and they should be more understanding of students who sacrificed lots to do a degree and therefore couldn't afford to fly off for holidays several times a year. That's how the other half live, I thought before realising that I was probably wealthier than any of my students or their parents and if we include Simon's pay, probably than the university as well.

I'd mentioned as a grumble that Diane had dropped me in it with the family up in Bristol and of course they wanted to know why. I reminded them that I was a scientist not a psychiatrist. They fired back that I was trans myself, as were seven of my daughters, so I should know a bit about it, including taking on various establishments including the FA, using Jason and his law firm. I did think about suing J.K.Rowling after she deliberately misgendered me, but Jason advised against it, as she would eventually get tired of it and go and write a new book, at which I said perhaps she should take writing lessons, his reply was unprintable but he laughed.

I decided I would drive up on Sunday afternoon and spend some time cleaning the house, Danni asked if she could come too. I asked her how her leg was and she told me she'd cope and perhaps I could do some healing on it. I had almost forgotten about that and wondered if I still could. She told me that there was one way to find out. I spent an hour trying to improve her leg which she said did feel easier but I personally thought I had lost much of whatever healing power I once had.

Much to my astonishment, she was walking and running much better the next day, so maybe I hadn't lost it, I had however lost confidence in my abilities, so perhaps that was the real story. Either way Danni and I set off for Bristol on Sunday afternoon, checking out where the Barretts lived (no it wasn't Wimpole Street) as we went to my old house, complete with a big box of food and perishables that David had put together for me. Danni took one look at it and declared it far too much for our needs but David wouldn't have it. Too much it may have been, but by the time we got to my old house, she'd eaten half the apples and strawberries and then asked what was for tea. She doesn't gain any weight, which may change as she gets older, I didn't until I got to my late thirties, but at the moment, she just runs it off playing football (Association type before the American hijack of the name).