Broken Wings 33

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CHAPTER 33
The next few weeks were as dreary as that time of year often is, enlivened only by another visit from Dr Thomas, which left the girls smiling, and a solo drive out to the East. The boys’ home was in Overmonnow, with a name that, for once, didn’t leave me twitching with references to castles or river views, despite its location. Mrs Hughes, the director, manager, head screw, whatever, really seemed a decent woman, and the boys I encountered were actually laughing.

“Christopher is looking forward to meeting you, Miss Wells. I have had a number of rather interesting conversations with Social Services about his situation, and I am actually rather surprised they have somewhere… suitable. I assume you are aware of his predicament?”

“I am. Out of curiosity, what is your personal, um, appreciation of his ‘predicament’?”

She rose from her swivel chair and crossed to the office door, pulling it shut, then closed the window fully before sitting down once again.

“Simply put, Miss Wells, Christopher confided in me, I don’t know why, and I suspect it is the reason he was so effectively disowned by his family. I have carried out some research, but information is rather scarce. I found some stuff written by a man called Money, but that all seemed rather silly and confusing. My personal, um, appreciation, as you put it is that it is an area of great complexity that I doubt I will ever understand. What I do know is rather more simply put”

She reached below her desk, pulling a drawer open and producing a small tin pencil box, which she opened so that I could see the contents, which included a blade from a craft knife.

“Whatever my take on this, Miss Wells, Christopher is a cutter. Along with the drivel from Doctor Money, I have managed to find some useful information on his disorder, and there is one salient fact that I have pulled from it. Christopher is a delightful child, and I have avoided using other names or pronouns as a way of opening him up to bullying, which would be inevitable in the best of care establishments. I do not know if you are familiar with the unfortunate reputation our profession holds, but trust me, we are not all like Bryn Estyn, Mersey View or that abominable place in Carlisle. I have a simple aim in allowing Christopher’s move, and that is the hope that he may remain alive and healthy. My reading tells me that such an outcome is extremely doubtful if he remains here. Are you with me in that aim, Miss Wells, or are you simply another fly-by-night with a pecuniary interest?”

I sat for a few seconds in mild shock, knocked back by her ferocity, before offering the best reply I could think of.

“You mentioned Mersey View, Mrs Hughes. If I say I was what could be called intimately familiar with that place, will that clarify things?”

“Oh. OH! I see. Thank you for that. Miss Wells. I understand, I think. Thank you”

Another few seconds of silence, and then she gave me a brittle smile.

“Christopher is packed and waiting. Shall we introduce you?”

As she handed me the little tin box, she whispered, “The girl name is Catherine”

My new friend was sitting with a crossword book and pencil in what looked like a social room, with book shelves along the walls and a number of small tables, a pile of boxed board games on a sideboard. Christopher was dressed so neatly it must have hurt to move, in blazer and tie, but his hair was over his collar. He looked up at our entrance.

“Good morning, Christopher. This is Miss Wells, the director of your new home. All packed and ready to roll?”

“Yes, Mrs Hughes”

“Well, shall we be off, then?”

As he rose from his chair, she stepped forward, and the hug was utterly natural and mutual, as she whispered something into his ear.

“I will, Mrs Hughes. I promise”

She offered me a hand to shake.

“Miss Wells, thank you. Goodbye, Christopher”

An abrupt turn on her heel, and she was gone. I led the boy out to the van, stowing his small suitcase in the rear, and then invited him to climb into the front. Once in the driver’s seat. I turned to him with a smile.

“Clunk-click, Catherine”

His own sort-of-smile vanished, as I deliberately set the van rolling so that I had an excuse to break eye contact. Let him feel I was being casual, not straining to pick up his reaction.

“Couple of things you should know, love. I understand what your problem is, and that is why the social have transferred you to my care. I’ll talk, you listen, and if you don’t think it’s right for you, I can take you back. I don’t need to know everything just now, but I do need to know you’ll be happy to come with me. Nothing without your agreement, OK?”

“OK…”

“I run a private home. It’s in Cardiff, but I assume you know that. I have another job, driving HGVs, so a lot of the time it’ll be just yourself and my other guests. Friends, really. The thing is, the people I take in all have the same issue. Some of them are runaways, some have been dumped by their families. Some… Some have a history of self-harm”

I paused just then, using checking for traffic at a junction as a disguise for that little prod, but he said nothing.

“What they all have in common is that they are all girls, all girls who were told they were boys. From what a little bird tells me, that’s something you understand. Am I right?”

I risked a glance to my left, and he was weeping silently. As soon as I spotted a safe place, I pulled over and waited for his tears to run their course.

HER tears. The clothing was knocking my thoughts off track, but she was there, hiding underneath the blazer and stripey tie. Once she was done, with memories still fresh of Kim’s arrival, I asked two important questions.

“First, love, do you think we’ll be the right place for you?”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Absolutely. No bullshit—er, no lying. I drive lorries for a living, and I’m a biker, so my language can be a bit fruity. Absolute truth”

“Then yes. It can’t be real, though. Like a prayer being answered, isn’t it? Got to be a catch. Why do you do this?”

“Simple answer is because I got out of a much worse place, and my Dad… My Dad said I should pay things forward. We all have obligations, and that’s mine”

“You said ‘first’. What’s second?”

“Simple, really. What do you like people to call you? I’ll have to introduce you when we get home, and it would be handy to know. Here, look in the glove box. There’s some wet wipes in there, and I do believe that we will have time to stop for a bite to eat on the way. The other girls like Maccy D, but I’m easy”

“Can you call me Cathy, please?”

I gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Just between us for now, till we can get you something a bit more comfortable to wear. Save having problems with twats. There’s a Maccy just before Newport which will do”

I took another look to my left, so that she could see me grin.

“Lorry driver, me, and a biker. Mam and Dad were travellers. You get to learn where all the food stops are, as well as which ones not to stop at. Best clue is the size of the mug they give you for your tea”

“What do you mean?”

“Pint mugs, love. Even better if they do hot chocolate! A girl needs her chocolate, doesn’t she? Now, sounds. This is the acid test, the sort of music you like”

That brought a real laugh at last.

“All sorts, as long as it’s not like in that film”

“Eh?”

She put on an atrocious American accent.

“Both sorts, Country AND Western”

My own laugh was just as genuine.

“Nell is going to LOVE you! Her parents were into all that crap. She tells me her Dad even has the boots and hat!”

“NO!”

Ice broken at last, I drove on to the burger place, where we filled up on stuff I actually didn’t like that much, but it wasn’t me that needed the comfort. I was as careful as I could be with her name, and then I decided to take a risk, calling in at the same shopping centre I had visited with Kim and Nell. After parking up, I gave him the script as we walked across the tarmac.

“Right, SON for now, I have two girls at home. One of them is the same size as you. What I want to grab is a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, as well as a jacket, because this weather is shit. Do you know your waist, inside leg, shoe size and that?”

“Yeah”

I passed her pen and paper, then pocketed the resulting note.

“Got casual shoes in that case?”

“Trainers”

“They’ll do for now, then. Main thing will be the jacket and the top, for telling people you’re a girl. I just need you to try the jacket for fit. You up for that?”

In and out, there were no issues, apart from a ‘sympathetic’ woman who commiserated on the poor boy being used as a try-out for ‘his sister’s clothes’.

“And so tidy you are, isn’t it? Never mind, son!”

Back to the van, and Cathy started laughing, freely this time.

“If that woman only knew!”

She was looking at the bags wistfully, so I slid open the side door and waited while she changed in the back of the Transit, knocking on the bulkhead to let me know when she had finished. As soon as I opened the door again, she scurried around into the passenger seat, face red. I set the van in gear, and pulled away for the main road home. As soon as we were out of the car park, she sighed.

“Couple in the car park, Miss Wells, they saw me go in the back dressed as a boy, then come out like this”

“Fuck’em. You’ll never see them again. How do you feel now?”

“Don’t know yet. Far to go?”

“Not that far. And it’s ‘Debbie’, not Miss Wells. Where are you from, by the way?”

“Raglan”

“Good. Far enough away we shouldn’t be running into anyone that’s known you before. Now…”

I stuck on some Sandy Denny, and Cathy settled back to listen, before jerking upright again.

“I know that voice! Isn’t she with Led Zep?”

“Um, no. She’s not with anyone anymore, but yeah, she did a track on Zep Four, I think”

“I like her voice. You got more?”

“Loads. I think you and Kim are going to get on. Now, awkward driving to do for a bit, so enjoy Sandy and…”

I tailed off, concentrating on getting the bulk of the van through late afternoon traffic and then around the back of our house. I sat with her for a couple of minutes as the engine ticked and cooled.

“Right, love. This is it. It’s actually two houses, with a connecting door. We are very security conscious, because of a number of reasons, one of which I know is still showing next to my eye. There are only two other girls with me right now”

I noticed her twitch at ‘other girls’, then smile. I carried on with the introduction.

“Kim will be out for a while because she has a part-time job in a café around the corner. Nell should be in, and knowing her will be studying. The only other person you may see regularly, apart from the Social, a police liaison officer and the doctor, is a good man called Sparky, who does building work for me. Every other person who calls will either be a personal friend or will be told to go away. Got that?”

She nodded.

“Grab your stuff, then. Hang on… here’s Kim now”

I climbed down from the cab, and hugged Kim hello, and she looked over to the passenger window.

“New friend?”

“Catherine. Cathy. You ready for her?”

“I will be. Give me a minute, and I’ll warn Nell and get the kettle on”

I spent longer than necessary locking up the van, and then a thought occurred to me.

“Cathy?”

“Yeah?”

“Mrs Hughes whispered something to you as we left. Is it something you can tell me?”

Eyes down once more, she nodded.

“Yes. She just asked me to write to let her know I was OK, and… and said ‘Good luck, Cathy’. I don’t…”

She looked straight at me once more, shaking her head gently.

“I don’t know if she really understands, but she’s tried, and that’s all I can ask, I suppose”

“You’ve got that right, love, but that’s where we are different, us lot here. We really DO understand. Come on; Kim’s got the kettle on, and she had a pot in her hands, so we might have something nice for tea”

I led her in, dumping her case by the back door, and took her into the living room, where Kim had the tea waiting.

“Kim, Nell: this is Cathy. She’s going to be staying with us. Nell, no. Led Zep and Sandy Denny”

Miss Beige sighed.

“Ah well. Better than Country and Western, I suppose”

Kim cheered.

“Great! Which bedroom you giving her, Debbie? And that’s apple crumble in the pot for later, and I made it, so someone called Nell or Cathy can do some custard!”

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Comments

Aaah. Changing in 'The Van' - now those were the days

Changing in the van

For years, I had my transit van subdivided. Half for my clothes and crazy clubbing - then half for storing my Landlady tools. This piccie was taken outside a gay club in Cardiff.

Some of your stories are just soo-o close to my life-story Steph! LOLOLOL

bev_1.jpg

Money Or Mengele?

joannebarbarella's picture

Not much difference in the outcome for the patients.

Cathy will be OK thanks to Mrs. Hughes and Debbie.

Hiding

Andrea Lena's picture

HER tears. The clothing was knocking my thoughts off track, but she was there, hiding underneath the blazer and stripey tie.

sigh

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Pronouns

It's a simple idea. Despite her history, Debbie is just an ordinary woman, and being presented with a boy in school uniform blazer and tie leaves her confused. A history so many of us share. Give a plant a little water, and it may bloom.