This chapter leads up to the kidnapping of Khatia.

NEW SPACETRAN 18.

Spacetran 18.

List of Beverly’s children, grandchildren and their friends.

Girls,

Wendy, William’s twin.
Jessica and Charlotte, Ben’s (AKA Bennie’s,) twin sisters.
Dave and Eddie , Sherriff Jack Johnson’s boys.
Linda and Sandra, Sherriff Jack Johnson’s daughters.
Ray, Wendy’s husband, (Our son in Law.).
Khatia. Bennie’s secret Muslim wife.
Farina & Francine. Khatia and Bennie’s twin daughters.

Beverly stared silently for a long time after her transgendered son Bennie had related the secret events in her life over the past several years.

‘Grand-daughters!' Beverly could hardly believe it. ‘For God’s sake, twin grand-daughters!’ Who would have believed it?’
After having learned of the full story behind the risks to Khatia’s life Beverly was all concern for both her children and grandchildren.

“Are they gifted?” Beverly asked almost in a whisper.

Bennie nodded wearily. Keeping the family secret had taken its toll; she was worn out with secrets.

“Will I be allowed to meet them? Has Khatia agreed?”

Once again Bennie nodded as she sagged into the seat and let out a long weary sigh.

“Yee-eess. Khatia’s agreed. She’s afraid, curious and a little angry with me.”

“I’m not surprised,” Beverly replied, “but I can see why you did what you did. What are the girls, - no correction, - what are my grand-daughters like? Come to that, what’s Khatia like, I mean yes I’ve seen her and I know she’s beautiful but what’s she like as a woman, - as a mother?”

“Katia’s my wife.” Bennie stated bluntly. “I love her because she’s beautiful in mind and body. She loves the girls, more even than maybe I do but then she would, she’s their mother. I’m a very lucky girl.”

“And the girls, my grand-daughters? What are they like?”

“They’re typical seven-year-old rich-kids. Playing with dolls, building dens, riding their ponies, - oh! and mixing with the other village kids; - squabbling.”

“Squabbling; what over? Surely they want for nothing?”

Beverly wagged her head.

“Really daddy, you can be naive sometimes. They squabble for our affections; - Khatia and my attentions. They hardly notice they’re rich. We live on a farm just outside a pretty village, they want for nothing materially, - and they want for nothing emotionally either.” Bennie ended softly.

Beverly frowned guiltily as she sensed the censure in her transgendered son’s words. She confessed her guilt.

“Yes. Maybe I was a bit remiss with your mum; I should have spent more time with you kids.”

Bennie scolded her father gently.

“Yes, maybe you could have but you were admittedly a rather busy bee what with having a business to run all over the universe. Well, you can rest assured, Farina and Francine don’t want for our attention. Khatia and I spend all our time with them. The girls see both me and Khatia every day and we play with them every day except when I come to the board meetings. The twins understand that and accept it.”

“So am I going to meet my grandchildren?”

“Only if you promise not to interfere.”

“How so?”

“You can meet them, you can play with them, even play math’s games with them, they’ll like that. It will be a novelty for them to meet an adult who should be able to best them at maths.”

“Are they that advanced then?”

“They tend to treat their teachers with disdain, at least, their math’s teachers that is.”

“They’re not arrogant are they?” Beverly wondered as concern cracked her voice slightly.

“No, they wouldn’t be allowed to get away with that, Khatia would soon tan their hides. They’re more patronising towards them, their maths teachers that is. Come to think of it; it might do them good to be taken down a peg or two and you’re the one to do it.”

“I didn’t want our relationship to start like that. I wanted it to be friendly and loving.” Beverly objected mildly. “It’s a chance for me to get to know my newfound grand-daughters.”

“Well then I’ll just introduce you to them as their grandpa and tell them you’re just like me or more properly, I’m just like you. We won’t tell them about your maths thing. Would you like to do it tomorrow? It’s the weekend and they’ll be out on their ponies roaming the Pennines.”

“I’d like to meet them right now if I could. I can’t imagine me out on the moors riding a pony; I don’t ride that well; do you?”

“Not as well as Khatia and the girls. Saturday’s their special day; they get out on the hills and savour the gallops. I usually meet them with the horse carrier at some pub or cafe in one of the many Pennine villages; then we fly home.”

“Can I not meet them today?”

“It’s Friday, they’re probably busy tormenting their tutor, she’s a maths professor from Leeds University and she has a hard time teaching them anything. As fast as she shows the girls some new math’s principle they soak it up and want to move on. The poor professor is coming to the end of her A ‘level repertoire. It’ll be degree stuff before long. I’m beginning to see where you were coming from now. My own daughters leave me so far behind it’s embarrassing.”

Beverly felt a sudden cold shiver as she thought back to the cold cave of her desperate childhood. She hated being reminded of it but she was determined not to let her own brutal childhood experiences affect her relationship with her newfound grandchildren. She had been successful with the other grandchildren and she was determined to be equally successful with Farina and Francine.

“Maybe I could sit in on one of their lesson.” She suggested to Bennie.

“You’ll embarrass the poor teacher; she’s very bright; you don’t get to be a university professor of mathematics at twenty five without being really good. She’ll shrink if you walk into the room, plus she’ll make the connection immediately. Her special pupils are related to ‘Beverly Taff, the famous Space Tran transgendered woman’. That would ‘out’ the girls to the rest of the world and I don’t want that yet. Best you meet them tomorrow while they’re out riding and alone with their mum and there are no witnesses. I’ll arrange the rendezvous with Khatia. You can meet her right now. She’s having coffee with an old friend of mine who knows us from when we first met.”

“I’d like that. Is that Eddie the restaurateur?”

Bennie grinned.

“Yes, the very same. It’s hardly a restaurant daddy, we actually call it ‘The greasy Spoon’ but the food’s good and the hygiene belies our name for it. It’s spotless. Eddie keeps a good establishment. Khatia and I both have a soft spot for it and people don’t realise who we are. Taxi drivers use it and the staff from the station nearby but it’s not a posh place. The food is plentiful, cheap and good. If the paparazzi ever went looking for us, God Forbid!’ the last place they’d think of looking is Eddie’s place.”

“Yes,” Beverly observed thoughtfully. “You’ve managed to sink below the radar rather well. I applaud you for that. Give Khatia a bell, I desperately want to meet this remarkable girl who captured my transgendered son’s heart and then went on to accept that transgenderism.”

“It’s not a one-way street daddy. Khatia’s bisexual as well. That’s partly what caused the rift with her family and the reason she accepts me totally. We’re birds of a feather.”

Bennie arranged a rendezvous at Eddie’s then offered her father a change of clothes at her inner city apartment on Sachman Street, to help her father’s disguise. They were much the same size and Beverly knew full well the benefits of frequent changes of outfits. Within half an hour both ‘girls’ were taking a taxi to the maglev station but instead of catching a train they ‘doubled back’ and walked the few blocks to Eddie’s cafe. Beverly was every bit as astute as her son at avoiding being followed.

That lunch time, Beverly met her beautiful Asian Daughter-in-law to talk directly to for the very first time. It was a meeting of minds. Two free spirits who had escaped from oppressive childhoods to finally make good. After each enjoying one of Eddie’s famous ‘all day breakfasts’ they returned to the gay village apartment on Sachman Street and fell to chatting long into the evening. For both Beverly and Khatia it was a catharsis of similar experiences. By the end of the night, Bennie was beginning to wonder why she had ever avoided introducing Khatia to her father in law. It had been one of the happiest evenings of Khatia’s life. Later that night they flew with Beverly to their Yorkshire farmhouse to find Farina and Francine fast asleep. A nurse ant lay half sleeping but guarding their beds while the maths professor had worked late with the twins and thus stayed over in one of the several spare bedrooms. One of the two housekeepers was still up when they arrived so Khatia sneaked Beverly to a back bedroom far removed from the professor. Neither she nor Bennie wanted Beverly’s meeting with her grandchildren to be witnessed.

A meeting on the remote moors would be by far the best arrangement. Beverly went to bed immediately because she was tired. In the morning Beverly stayed in her room until the professor had given her weekly confidential report to Bennie and Khatia. Then after the professor had left along with the housekeepers who did not stay at weekends, Beverly emerged from her room just as Khatia, Francine and Farina were making their way out of the farmyard gates. They were to meet near the old farmhouse that was reputed to be ‘Top Withen’s’ from Emily Bronte’s novel.

For the rest of the morning transgendered father and transgendered son sat in the farmhouse drawing room where Bennie explained their lifestyle to Beverly as she explained the discreet tactics they employed to avoid coming into any potential contact with Khatia’s relatives.

“We live on the Lancashire side of the Pennines but the children and Khatia range far and wide on their weekend pony treks,” Bennie explained.

Beverly had her concerns that they still lived within contact distance of Khatia’s family but she kept her counsel. The arrangements that Khatia and Bennie had made seemed to work and there hadn’t been a whisper of a threat. Just before noon, they took Bennie’s pul and flew to the rendezvous to await the arrival of Khatia and the girls. Beverly was relishing the meeting with her grandchildren. They settled by the ‘Pennine Way’ footpath that ran right by the derelict farmhouse and chatted amiably awaiting the arrival of mother and daughters.

At noon there was no sign of the trio and Beverly began to sense some tension in her transgendered son.

“Are they sometimes late?” Beverly asked.

“No. Khatia’s pretty good about time-keeping, we both understand the risks and the concerns it causes.”
By one o’clock Bennie decided to go searching. She had an excellent knowledge of the layout of the moor and more or less knew which path her wife and children would have chosen. Bennie had often ridden with her and knew that Khatia always loved the autumnal colours as they started riding out through the woods just above the farm before emerging onto the wide open moor. Flying at almost ground level they searched the moor with the pul until they spotted two children on ponies and a riderless horse. Both girls were crying piteously and Bennie felt a sick lump of pure dread settling in her belly.

The girls quickly recognised their father’s pul and horse carrier and they screamed with joyous relief as it settled in the heather beside them.

“Where’s mummy?” Bennie asked.

“The men took her!” Francine wailed as the pair flung themselves hysterically into their father’s arms.

For long seconds Beverly fretted impatiently as the children screamed and sobbed in their father’s arms. Eventually they calmed down and Bennie was able to garnish some useful information.

“What did they look like?”

“They looked like Musah’s father in school.” Farina added.

Bennie could not remember ever seeing an Asian child at the village school and she frowned.

“Musah. Who’s Musah?”

“He started this term. They moved from Bradford. His mum and dad wear those old fashioned clothes.”

Bennie realised the girls were talking about the tribal traditional clothes but he had not picked the girls up since the beginning of term for it was only three weeks earlier and Khatia usually enjoyed the motherly task. It gave her opportunities to gossip with the other mothers about mundane, ordinary aspects of the village life. Bennie pressed the girls for the smallest clues.
With every snippet of information Bennie’s heart sank lower. It was obvious that Khatia had been kidnapped by her family. There was no time to lose. There was no knowing how quickly they might resort to an honour killing

”Which way did they fly off?” Beverly asked the twins.

They both pointed towards the radio mast that marked the moors above Bradford, this confirmed Beverly and Bennie’s suspicions.
Fortunately the horses proved easy to handle. They instinctively knew that when the pul and horse-carrier met them after a ride it meant a comfortable trip back to the farm and a warm, well stocked stable. Before they left the scene the police puls had arrived to take forensic samples and garnish as much evidence as possible. When they realised who Beverly was, things began to happen at a frantic pace. Bennie realised that now the Bradford family knew who Khatia was there was no longer any use in maintaining their subterfuge. For once, Bennie was glad of her father’s fame. However fame was not the issue here, time was.