I woke early so that I could get home, get showered, get dressed and get what were hopefully our last interviews today. My hair was a fright, so I took care to blow it straight and I actually used some extra eye makeup. Was this because we would be talking to Gabbie today? Am I so insecure that I actually worried about being compared to a transsexual?
Guilty as charged.
Yet again, the pile of dirty washing had taken over and I was dangerously low on undies, so I pulled out my best peach silk and lace La Perla bra and matching knickers and slipped on a cream silk shirt and navy woollen skirt which felt a bit loose – the sexercise must have been cancelling out the chocolate. Feeling positively decadent, I stepped into my only pair of stilettos that I could walk in: if I had to stand next to a goddess at least I wouldn’t completely disappear into the woodwork. My feet might be killing me at the end of the day, but I felt that I had to make an effort.
Gabbie was staying at the Observatory Hotel and we caught up with her in the coffee shop. Constable Jack, bless his heart, had the good manners to be respectfully awed and didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. Confusion, lust, wonder, admiration, more confusion. Lots of confusion. And Gabbie was perfect. Her hair, her face, her body, her legs, her clothes. Everything was perfect. Sure, her voice was low, but she kept it light and her laugh was infectious. I was prepared to dislike her on the spot, but she was such a charming, feminine woman that I found myself reversing my initial reaction. I’m almost as tall as she is, and I wondered where she bought her shoes, because I have such trouble finding size 10½ Bs. We big-footed women have to help each other.
Gabbie had her shit together. She was warm, friendly, feminine. The kind of sister I’d always wished I had.
“Can you tell me about your father?” An original question. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Gosh. I haven’t seen him for years. We were never close. He left my mother when I was three, so I didn’t really see much of him. Suzie kept in touch with my mum, and she was my main contact with my father. He said that he wanted me to live here but I didn’t believe him. There was no way I was going to leave my mother and she wasn’t going to come back to Australia.” She sipped from the cup and wiped her lips delicately. I noticed that her lipstick didn’t budge and wondered how on earth she managed that. Really, Gabbie could teach me so much.
“I always knew that I was in the wrong body and my mother was wonderful when I finally told her that I was going to transition. Then I made the mistake of telling my father, and he didn’t take it well, to say the least. He screamed at me and he blamed my mother for turning me into a flaming queer, as he said, and he refused to see me or talk to me. He told Suzie not to talk to me, but no-one tells Suzie what to do and I really love her for that. She’s such a wonderful person, isn’t she? She flew over to help me recover from the operations and she was an absolute rock. Mum and I just love her and I look on her as my spiritual mother.
“I spend most of my time between Connecticut with my mother and Venezuela with my grandparents. This year I was in Rio for Mardi Gras, but I was dancing on a float and fell off and landed in hospital and was a bit late finding out about my father’s death. I suppose that I should be heartbroken that he’s gone, but he really was a mean old bastard and I’m only here because my mother insisted I come over for the funeral because it was the right thing to do. I came because I wanted to see Suzie. I’m not sorry that he’s dead. There was a time when I would have cheerfully killed him myself, but I missed my chance and all those capoeira lessons when I was a boy have been completely wasted. Damn.” She gave a wicked grin and winked at Constable Jack, who had a sudden coughing fit.
“So I’m sorry that I don’t really know much about what my father got up to and I suppose that there were many people who would have liked to kill him and you can include me on that list.” She looked straight at Jack. “So…am I under arrest?” She held out her wrists and smiled. “Handcuffs?” Constable Jack was turning pink.
“No? So can I go home now?” She turned to me and winked.
Yes, you can, I thought. Quickly. Before Jack has a complete sexual breakdown.