At the end of the day, as we stepped outside, I realized how much fun I had had and that I was going to miss the crazy old bloke. He turned to me and instead of saying goodbye, he pressed a key into my hand. “Right then, I'll see you at ten sharp tomorrow.”
Again, I found myself standing there dumbly, not knowing what to say. The poor man's trolly had lost the rail. I couldn't keep helping him. I needed to find a job, I felt bad taking money from McGrath for helping her with the renovations for the Flotilla. I needed to prove I could make my own way in the world.
I caught a glint of humor in Mr. Jameson's eye as he was unlocking his car. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Wait a minute. What's going on here sir? I can't keep coming to help you.”
He looked at me in mock confusion, I was starting to be able to read the old coot. “Isn't that what employees do?”
I blinked and repeated dumbly, “Employee?”
He nudged his chin to my bag and asked with a slight smirk, “Those are resumes poking out of your purse there aren't they? Seems you need a job, and I was in need of a new assistant. I thought it obvious, dear.”
I felt my heart speed up in excitement as I looked between him and the warehouse. “You're offering me a job?”
He again furrowed his brow and then shook his head as he slid into the car as he grumbled to the sky, “Offering? The girl's been doing the job all day. I swear children are getting slower and slower every generation.”
Then he started the small antique car and drove off, leaving me standing there on the walk, blinking. I watched him go then I spun to look at Bits 'N'' Bobs and smiled. I could do worse, and I doubt I'd find a more interesting position with no experience.
Then my smile fell as I looked down the block at the receding car, then back toward the tube station. I grumped out petulantly as I tried not to smile again, “Hey. You could at least have given me a ride home, old man.”
I turned toward the station and almost skipped to it as I mused out loud to the universe, “I... have a job.”
Chapter 3 – Intrigued
I smiled at the memory of what happened next. A chance meeting that has changed my life.
That very next day I was on the train early, I didn't want to make a bad impression by being late on my first... well, my second day. McGrath was almost fussing over me more than Lenore was before I left. They were acting like mother hens, asking “Is that what you're wearing for your first day?" Or, “Do you have money for lunch?”
I had to wave them away, windmilling my hands in the air at them. “I'm not a kid you two, I'm a full grown adult thank you very much! It's just a job. Stop being overprotective sisters!" I remember thinking, why don't they just get married already?
I almost snorted when McGrath looked over to Lenny and quipped in the tweedledee she let into her Irish accent when she was teasing, “Our little girl is all grown up now." Lenore fluttered her lashes.
I muttered, “Bints." Then headed out, dutifully ignoring their snickering, before low tide could ground the Deidre. If I missed high tide, I really would have been late while we were stranded on the barge for the duration.
I glanced back as I walked the narrow gangplank to the promenade along Lower Mall lane in the shadow of the Hammersmith. I really loved those two. I saw them as more Bobby and my parents than mom and dad had ever been. I feel like we were given a new lease on life the day McGrath's shadow darkened our threshold back home, and pulled us out of our lives of fear, denial, and abuse.
Lenore had somehow found the strength and bravery to get out, something she feels she needs to make up for now. She still doesn't realize that it wasn't her responsibility to take care of us back then. She had been just a kid, like us. And when we were reunited almost two years later, she had become an amazing woman whom I'm proud to say is my big sister.
I scurried up to Hammersmith Bridge Road and just caught the bus heading to the Hammersmith Tube Station.
Normally I would have walked the distance, just shy of a kilometer, to the Tube. It gave me a chance to listen to my music, or to the sappy romance audiobooks Fran keeps sending me. Well fine, I like the sappy romances too, so sue me. They are my guilty pleasure.
I was listening to one such literary marvel when I Oyster Card-ed my way to the platform. I had to turn off the earphones as the book was drowned out by the noise of hundreds of people talking over each other. It was more crowded than normal. Then again, I had never been daft enough to try the trains during rush hour. We were packed in like sardines, or lemmings just waiting for our leader to move so that we could all follow.
Maybe I should have taken Lenny's offer to drive me to work. But I quite liked not fearing for my life this early in the morning. I preferred coffee to wake me up instead of nine or ten near misses on the streets of London. I loved my sis dearly, but she was a shite driver.
Also, there was the fact that I wanted to show everyone that I could do this on my own. I was almost twenty after all, and I lived on my sister's boat. So this, I could do.
The train slid into the station, and the doors on the cars opened. People impatiently waited for a few people to disembark before we became those lemmings I had just imagined, and we filed into the train.
I glanced over to see a cute bloke with startling blue eyes make room on his bench for an elderly woman. His striking red hair was pulled back in a short ponytail, I gravitated that way as others flowed into the car behind me. There were no seats left, so I took a rail handle, sandwiched between two businessmen with their brief cases and newspapers tucked under their arms.
I had to grin. Did they realize the walking cliché they projected? I mean really, who reads the paper anymore? There was more news and current and relevant information available at everyone's fingertips in an instant on their mobiles theses days than they could possibly find in the paper.
My attention was drawn behind me when an almost meek, low alto voice said, “Miss, here, take my seat.”
I turned back to see that bloke standing now, motioning to his seat. He was short and very effeminate looking, a very small young man about my age. If I didn't know he was a boy, I would have said he was a really pretty girl. Especially with the eye liner and lip gloss he wore. The old lady beside him praised, “Such a sweet boy. You mother should be proud.”
I tried not to stare at him as I smiled and squeaked out, “Thank you." Then slid into the offered seat as he took the rail handle in my stead. Then I tried not to notice his cute butt just in front of me. But, well, it was right there.
I exchanged a friendly smile with the woman beside me then I put my earbuds back in and started my book again. I was a little distracted by the chivalrous boy in front of me. He didn't seem put out at all over giving up his seat to me.
He wore cargo pants, but not baggy like a lot of the boys were wearing these days. They were clean and well pressed and... I smiled at the pink Sketchers on his feet. Then I cocked my head as I looked at the white dress shirt he wore with a light jacket over it to combat the mild morning chill. Was it a blouse?
I started feeling as though I had been mistaken as I reassessed, thinking now this boy was possibly a cute girl who was failing miserably at trying to look butch. That was all it took for my mind and perceptions to flip flop, and I could see my err clear as day then.
I paused for a moment at a realization. I had thought she had a cute butt before I realized she was a bird. I blushed and looked at her butt again. Yup, still cute. I had never even thought of another woman that way in my life. Unlike my sister who landed herself a prime specimen of womanhood for her girlfriend.
I found myself contemplating that there were levels of attraction and that maybe it wasn't as cut and dry as it had seemed to me my whole life. I only saw it as black and white until that moment. Like my sister was lesbian, and I was straight. You either liked boys or girls. But maybe there was a whole spectrum between, because I had to admit to myself that this androgynous girl in front of me was... well she was cute.
<
br /> Not in the overly cute and glamorous way that Paya was; I'd never been attracted to her like this. But in the, I'd probably blush if this girl turned those electric blues on me, way.
I started questioning everything I knew about what I believed about my sexuality, like an insecure teen. It wouldn't bother me if I had some lesbian tendencies, it would just bother me knowing I hadn't known that about myself. We all like to think we know ourselves completely. So when something contradicts what you knew to be true pops up, the questioning about everything else that makes us who we are start cropping up.
I looked around, shoving aside my self-doubt and distraction, Notting Hill Gate Station was coming up, and I prepared to get up as the train started to slow. I stopped breathing when I noted the girl was looking at me. I swallowed as I found I was right, I was attracted to her, I could feel the heat in my belly and on my cheeks. I blinked, dear lord, she had been talking to me, hadn't she?
I sounded like a bloody muppet as I asked, “Pardon?”
She smiled at me so genuinely I couldn't look away as she asked, “I just asked if you could pass me the duffel under the seat there. My rugby gear. My mates and I have a match today.”
My mind was reeling, and I was a bit relieved that I had just been confused, what with his feminine look. He was a bloke heading to play rugby with his mates. I nodded and scrambled for the bag, blurting, “Sorry. Of course.”
It was a little difficult to pull out as we were all packed in like cattle, but I finagled it out and held it up to him with both hands on the handles. It had a bit of weight to it. He smiled, his eyes glittering as he said, “Thank you," while taking the bag with one hand like it weighed nothing, even though I was a bit bigger than him. My stomach was all collywobbles as I just nodded, still feeling the heat on my cheeks.
The train came to a halt, and I stood along with everyone else whose stop it was. A man bumped me as everyone started pressing toward the door, and I was pressed closer to the boy. He looked slightly amused for some reason, and his smile was contagious. I pushed some of my curls out of my eyes and looked sheepishly at him. God, he has the prettiest lips I've ever seen.
A bucket of cold water was thrown over my fascination with his looks when one of the business men took the occasion of everyone's bodies pressed together to cop a feel. I looked back at the man with fire in my glare, but he just pretended he didn't notice, feigning innocence. What made men think they had the right to do things like that? Was it male privilege or something?
I turned back, and the boy's eyes were narrowed as he looked at the man and me. He sussed out my consternation and looked like he wanted to growl as he angled himself to move slightly between the man and me. His glare was on the man the few seconds it took for the doors to finally open. The man wouldn't make eye contact with him.
Then we started moving off the train. I was pleasantly surprised when the boy exited with our lemming troupe. When we had breathing room, he turned to me as we headed for the stairs to Knotting Hill Gate and Pembridge.
He offered a hand. “Sorry about that. Reid, Reid Masterson."
I took his hand, and it was firmer than I would have thought, though his skin may have been softer than mine. I could tell he had a restrained strength and was being careful with me.
Reid was a strong name, one of those you'd expect from a man running a law office or something.
I squeaked out like a bloody schoolgirl, “Christine.”
Then he looked around, speaking loudly so the grope-y businessman bustling off to his office somewhere could hear, “Hello Christine, some men need to learn to keep their hands to themselves." The man still refused to look at us as he headed away.
If I hadn't wanted to just curl up in a ball and hide away at that, it would have been quite humorous. But I did smile widely when he turned back to me, his big blue eyes wide with a comical manic look on his face. He seemed pleased that he got me to smile and get my mind off the unpleasantness on the train.
Then he seemed to deflate and said, “I simply love your hair. I'd die for natural red like that. I get mine from a bottle." He brushed a lock, which had escaped his ponytail, from his cheek.
He was an odd bloke, and I think I liked him on the spot.
We talked as we headed up to the street. When I shared I was heading to work, he had noted that he hadn't seen me on the train before. “It's my first day," I explained.
He seemed pleased with that and said, “Well congratulations are in order it seems. Well done you. I'm dealing with the temp agencies myself. Not many will take a chance on me... looking the way I do.”
What was wrong with his look? I mean, sure, I was so totally sexually confused while looking at his feminine lips, but he had individuality in spades.
As we walked down the block together, I learned that he was heading to a nearby park to play a match with a childhood friend who was in town for the week. Then my confusion grew as he said, “Later, mum is taking me out on a girls night." He scrunched his face like he just licked a lemon as he shared, “Her idea of fun and mine are completely disparate concepts.”
Girl's night?
We stopped at the corner and he... or she said, “This is where we part. Good luck on your first day at work Christine, I just know you'll be brill."
Reid didn't know me, but I still felt like I was glowing at the encouragement.
I had a little skip in my step as I headed toward Bits 'N' Bobs because Reid had turned back twice to give a little wave. I know because I was walking backward, watching. Dear God in heaven, I was crushing on someone I couldn't even tell was a boy or a girl, wasn't I. I realized that Reid's in between look was sort of alluring to me. I was told once that everyone has a little bi in them to varying degrees, maybe mine was a little more pronounced than I had imagined.
My good mood sank the moment I realized that I'd likely never see Reid again after this happenstantial meeting. As McGrath would say, “Well fecking A.”
I sighed and then took a deep breath to center myself as I arrived at the shop. My smile returned as I pushed the door open. I had a real job now.
Chapter 4 – Non-Binary
It was later that day, those four short months ago, when I remembered with a sinking feeling that I'd likely never see Reid again. He had said he had only been on the train for the rugby game with his friend.
I smiled at the memory of my surprise when I got on the train the next day, and I noticed some familiar red hair in the next car. It was difficult to push my way through the 'cattle car' I was in and to the doors separating the cars as the train started moving. I peeked through the windows to see the back of Reid's head. He was sitting on one of the benches with his hands clasped in his lap.
There were signs at the door which said to not change cars while the train was in motion. This was London, who actually paid attention to those signs? I smirked to myself, I was a Londonite now, so when in Rome... I stepped out and could feel the pressure difference between cars, as I pushed into the next one.
Reid, like many others, looked back at the sound of the doors and that odd whooshing vacuum sound of the train hurtling down the tube made. The others turned back to looking blankly into space, their curiosity sated. But Reid had a broad beaming smile for me. Those shocking eyes were still so startlingly blue.
I realized I was grinning like a loon as I made my way through the packed car to him. I hesitated when he stood up and motioned for me to take his seat. He was wearing a cute outfit that was clearly influenced by a schoolgirl uniform, complete with a pleated grey skirt. I thought that maybe I could see the outline of a bra under the white blouse. Reid was a girl, and I felt silly for ever thinking otherwise. I mean, just look at her. She was adorable.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the stupid smile plastered on my face as I took the offered seat while my cheeks heated. She should be sitting there. I gushed out in a rush, “Reid, what are you doing here? I thought you only took the tube for a game yesterday.”
/> She shook her head and said offhandedly, “Oh, I ride this train every day. The temp agency is in Notting Hill.”
That was exciting to me for a moment as I asked, “Really?" Then I studied her face. She was looking a little too innocent standing there, holding a rail handle. I narrowed my eyes in an accusation, and she shrugged.
That was all I was going to get out of her it seemed. Not that I was going to complain. I was happy to see her again, and I swore to myself that before we parted ways again, I was going to get her contact information. Nobody has ever made this kind of impression on me before, and if I am going to be completely honest with you and myself, I liked it.
When we disembarked at my station, she walked with me, and we shared a bit about our days. I hesitated after I asked about the rugby match after she replied, “Me and the other boys had a grand time of it yesterday." Other boys?
Graaaaah! I was so confused.
I looked at her intently, and for the life of me, I couldn't tell if she were male or female, the only visual clues were the skirt and bra. But everything else about her said boy. If he were a cross dresser, he was infinitely passable.
Our conversation held my attention as I hung on every word Reid spoke, leaving my confusion behind. I wanted to know more about who Reid was, so started a barrage of questions. Once I got through that bashful exterior, she was funny and bright, and damn... we had arrived at Bits.
I looked back toward the station as I realized this fascinating person had walked me to work. I was concerned. “You won't be late for the agency will you?" I knew some of them only handed out positions to those on hand when they opened.
She shook her head and assured me, “Not at all. It just up there." She pointed up the lane.
I narrowed my eyes at her again, I had walked this street when I was out job hunting, and I didn't remember a temp agency there. She blushed... caught. And I asked, “Why were you really on the train this morning?”
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