Chapter Text
Bodie did not take Sam's secret well.
He did manage not to shout or call the idea crazy, but clearly it disturbed him on a very basic level. He asked Sam to talk to Julie about being a girl. Julie was clearly uncomfortable, and emphasised the many active and really cool things a woman could do: archery, firearm target-shooting, running, horseback riding, driving, climbing ... all the things she did as Bodie's partner in CI5. As it happened, she did mention how difficult and disconcerting it was to pass through puberty in the midst of other youngsters. Boys had clearly given her a hard time, and Sam talked about how much it bothered her to go through the "wrong" puberty.
Julie was unable to reassure Bodie much. "She's really determined," she said. "As bullheaded as you've ever been."
Bodie compressed his lips, set his jaw, and made an appointment with Kate Ross.
As much as he didn't trust her to analyse him, he spoke fairly freely to her about his worries for Sam. "It's so mad," he said. "She says that she's not a girl. She won't wear dresses or get her hair styled. I feel like someone is taking my daughter away from me."
She pursed her lips and shook her head. "There have been people who don't conform to their gender roles for hundreds of years, Bodie. I'd have to talk to Sam to be sure, but I definitely think that your thinking like that about it will only lead to unhappiness. You know, children who run away from home might very well be like Sam. Regardless of how she feels or how she wants to live, you want her to stay with you, don't you?"
"Don't want her joining the merchant navy," he said with a tight grin. "Could you talk to her?"
"She'll be in school all weekdays," she said, considering it. "I could see her after she gets out. Who's looking after her?"
"Ray Doyle. He could bring her here tomorrow. Will that be all right?"
She said it was.
Bodie told the two of them that evening. Doyle just raised his eyebrows; Sam lost her temper. "Everybody wants to tell me how to live! It's not fair!" Bodie couldn't help but grin. Nothing was more pre-adolescent, boy or girl, than the conviction that life ought to be fair but was not. In fact, blaming one's parent for life's unfairness was like a long echo from his own childhood. Bodie thought again that the last thing he wanted his little girl to do was to run away. Life in the merchant navy, never mind in Africa, was so much more unfair than being ten years old in Liverpool. Or in London now.
Bodie had not asked to be present at the meeting, and Kate did not offer it. He supposed that Sam might speak more freely without him there, and if she wanted additional privacy, Doyle could step out. He sat at home, eating leftover brownies from last night and drinking tea. Then the phone rang. He lunged for it, said "3.7' and waited for the bad news.
It was Kate, and all she said was, "If you could put off her puberty for a while, would that help?"
"Can she? Can you?"
"I can give her injections, with your permission."
"i give it. Do I need to sign something?"
"Stop in at my office the next time you're at HQ, I'll put it in the record."
"Thank you," he said, feeling an entirely new emotion in regard to Dr. Kate Ross.
Sam was exhilarated when she came home. "That doctor was really nice," she said. "I got a shot and I won't have to get breasts or start bleeding for a while. Ray and Doctor Ross are the best people! Thank you so much, Bodie." Her eyes skidded to his plate, and she said, "May I have a brownie?"
He pushed the pan, still one-quarter full, in her direction, and she gave him a radiant smile just before shoving a brownie into her mouth. Crumbs scattered over her t-shirt.
"You eat like a boy," he said.
"I am a boy," she answered, with a cheeky grin.
Ray made more brownies the next day, as well as warming sausages for dinner. Sam asked for sausage rolls, next time. "I can take one to school for lunch," she explained.
"Right-oh," Ray said, gathering the dishes to wash them. Sam carried her plate to the sink but did not stay to wash it.
Bodie remembered that he had never washed dishes as a child either. As a boy. In Liverpool. He talked to Ray about it.
Ray shrugged. "I might as well wash them. I wash yours."
"Do you think it's ... a boy thing?"
"Dunno," Ray said, considering it. "I washed up as a kid. Didn't like it much. But my mum said if she cooked and I ate, it was only fair. Later I cooked 'cause I lived alone, washed up because there was nobody else. If I asked her, I'm sure she'd help ... boy or not."
"OK," Bodie said reluctantly, wishing he had an ally in this.
Even Cowley was no help. He listened attentively, though he took a few phone calls during their meeting, and thought about it afterward before putting a couple of questions. "Sam is seeing Kate Ross? And Ross is giving her ... puberty blockers; you said?"
Bodie nodded. "I gave consent. Sam likes Ross. She likes Doyle, too ... she even likes Julie. But she still says she's a boy. Won't wear dresses. Wears her hair short. At school, she gets her teachers to let her line up with the boys, that kind of thing."
"At this age, it hardly matters," Cowley said. "Does she have friends at school?"
"A few boys. She had a girl friend, told her the secret, and the friend thought it was crazy. So they don't see each other any more."
"So you are the only one who is affected right now."
Bodie opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say, so he shut it.
Cowley rubbed the bridge of his nose, pushed his glasses farther up it, and said, "I'm afraid that if Kate Ross can't help you, there's nothing I can do." So Bodie took a deep breath, thanked Cowley, and left the office.
He felt all alone. Carter thought Sam was like him, which was not much comfort; Bodie ended up looking at Doyle as he did the housework and shopping and cooking, as if he didn't mind at all. Sam loved him. His face was almost healed. Bodie asked him, "When you go to Macklin, what will we do?"
"Do your own shopping and cooking. Sam can help; I've been teaching her. I'll come look after the garden, if you want."
"Yes," Bodie said, but he still felt isolated, as if he were the only one who even remembered his daughter. He rubbed his face.
"You can't keep grieving for her," Ray insisted. "She's right here. Right here, Bodie. Pay attention to the child you have. :She's a great kid. She does her school work, plays sports, likes flowers, wants a dog. Has a sweet tooth just like yours. Try taking her to the films. Showing her how to play cricket and darts. Poker. Anything. The more time you spend together, the more you'll both be happy. Comfortable. Relaxed. Neither of you will feel alone."
Bodie thought. "Well, I'll try," he said at last.
And he did. He taught Sam darts, at which she showed some talent, and cricket, at which she was a decent fielder but wretched at bat, and attempted to teach her poker, but she disliked it and was bad at it as well. He taught her a couple of other card games, which they played in the evenings. Sam had wicked luck, so she won more often than she lost, even though her strategy was still childishly elementary.
Ray was right, Bodie found. He didn't feel so isolated and alone, and Sam seemed happier. He still didn't want to take on a dog, especially since this wasn't his own house, but he considered a hamster. Sam didn't care for them, though.
Sam started a class in dance at school and also joined the choir. At this age, there was little difference between girls and boys, since the boys whose voices were changing didn't sing. Sam was pleased that her voice was one of the lowest in the group, a second alto. She practiced at home, and Bodie grew accustomed to hearing her voice droning or booming her part in the music.
Bodie enjoyed hearing her sing. He especially liked when she buzzed along in the low parts. He'd really enjoy her in the entire choir, hr thought, holding down the twittering sopranos, like the base of a statue stabilizing the whole sound.
He had to admit to himself that such a role was appropriate for a boy.