Chapter Text
“Georgina, you should go and tidy your room, your cousins are arriving soon.” George balled his hands up into fists under the table.
“Yes mum” he replied stiffly. George was annoyed. His stupid cousins were coming over to stay, and they would no doubt spend the whole time poking their noses into his business.
“And it’s not Georgina, it’s George”. George’s mother sighed, but George ignored her and ran up to his room. It wasn’t that messy anyway. He threw a pair of grey trousers into the wash basket and made his bed. It had been shoved all the way up to one wall to make space for another bed on the other side. He was expected to share a room with his cousin, Anne.
The sound of bicycles on the driveway alerted George to the fact his cousins had arrived. He glanced out of the window to see his mother introducing herself to them.
“Where’s Georgina?” The tallest boy asked as George’s mother led them into the house.
“She’s probbaly upstairs.” She replied. “George, come and meet your cousins”
“George? Why do you call her that?” The girls voice travelled up the stairs.
“She will only respond to George. She likes to act as if she’s a boy when really she’s a girl.”
“I would hate for people to think I’m a boy. Georgina sounds rather peculiar.”
George felt his stomach coil like a snake. He flung the window open and swung out, grabbing hold of a pipe connected to the side of the house. He used it to slide down to the ground and begun running down the driveway towards the beach.
“George!” He glanced back briefly to see his mothers face poking out of the window, but turned and continued his way.
“Evening Master George!” A sailor called as George ran past. George ignored him, but whistles for Timmy.
The faithful dog leapt over the fence and joined George on his way to the beach.
It was only when he found a secret alcove that George sat down.
“I knew my cousins would be rotten. I shan’t like them just because we are cousins. I shan’t.” George insisted. Timmy rest his warm head on George’s knee and George tangled his fingers in his fur.
“I hate them. And I hate mother. I don’t want to be a girl, I’m not a girl, I won’t be. I’m as good as any boy, I bet I can row faster and better than my stupid cousins. I bet I can run faster and can bicycle faster. I’m NOT Georgina, I’m George.”
Timmy whined and looked up at George with sad eyes.
“I’m not mad at you, Timmy.” George scratched Timmy’s ears. “You know I’m a boy.”
Timmy barked as if in agreement and George laughed, ruffling his fur.
“Of course you do, Timmy.