In trucking you’re allowed different opinions... in publishing it turns out you’re not

distance themselves, for fear of also being labelled bigots, transphobes or TeRFs (transexclusionary radical feminists).

Gillian was called all of the above — and worse. The people who sent the messages — she feels sure it was an orchestrated campaign led by groups who regularly gang up on so-called TeRFs on social media — contacted Working Partners and harperCollins, demanding they drop her.

That so many people might consider her bigoted has been difficult for Gillian to bear.

‘Ian and I lived in Barbados [where homosexuality is illegal] in the 1990s and I got myself into a lot of arguments there for speaking out about gay rights,’ she says. ‘I consider myself to be liberalminded, but we can’t walk blindly into a situation in which men can self-declare as women without medical or surgical intervention.

‘No one’s saying trans people are predators, rather that as soon as

there’s an open door, there’s a possibility that some men will take advantage of it to abuse women.’

Living in the remote Scottish highlands, writing novels from home had felt like the perfect

career while her children were growing up.

however, suddenly unemployed at 56 — her literary income fell from around £30,000 to the £10,000 a year she receives in royalties from the 40 books she has had published — and with few opportunities to earn money locally, Gillian had to think long and hard about what she could do.

It was a friend who pointed out that another of her passions was driving, and suggested she do

it professionally. ‘I wanted to do something that would be allconsuming and take my mind off things,’ says Gillian.

‘I knew an office job wouldn’t do that and if I was going to drive for a living I wanted it to feel exciting, challenging, so I applied to train to be an hGV driver. I think a few people were surprised, but no one tried to talk me out of it.’

In September 2020, Gillian began the 35-hour-long Certificate of Professional Competence (CPC) training online, as the country was still in lockdown.

Given that lorry drivers were in very short supply during the pandemic, she felt confident there would be plenty of work.

She learned the correct way to load and unload a lorry, the restrictions on how much time a truck driver can spend behind the

wheel and what clothes she would need to wear (steel-capped boots to protect her toes from falling freight, high-visibility jackets and sometimes even a helmet).

It was a few months of training before she could get behind the wheel and, although it was a rather daunting experience, Gillian felt confident she had found her new career. In September last year, it took her three attempts to pass the Category C driving test, which permits her to drive hGVs up to 32 tonnes. She has since clocked up thousands of road miles.

‘Driving such a great big thing felt quite intimidating at first — I was scared I was going to hurt someone — but I love using my brain in this different way,’ she

says. ‘It takes my full concentration, leaving no opportunity for ruminating, which I love.

‘you become more confident with experience, remembering roads you can’t take because of low bridges. I broke a wing mirror while reversing on my first trip,

which was mortifying, but the company has had me back many times since.’

Given that only 1 per cent of hGV drivers in the uK are women, I wonder if Gillian has experienced any sexism in her new career.

‘None,’ she says, shaking her head vigorously. ‘I’m not always strong enough to lift the heavier pallets on to the lorry, but on a lot

of journeys you’re accompanied

by a “second man” [a driver’s mate], and there’s never any shortage of other drivers willing to help me load or unload.’

It was on her first trip, to the West Coast of Scotland a year ago, that the ‘second man’, who was in

his 30s, asked what work Gillian had done before.

‘I told him the story and he said: “Oh, you’re a TeRF!” I

laughed and said: “yes, you know the terminology.”

‘I wasn’t offended. Although it’s meant as a term of abuse, many of us feminists have now adopted it.

‘Then we chatted about all the different issues and it was so refreshing. In the haulage industry you’re allowed to have a difference of opinion whereas, incredibly, in publishing — which relies on ideas and critical thinking — it turns out you’re not.’

Gillian doesn’t do the sort of long-distance driving that would require her to stay overnight, but covers the North of Scotland, from the Cairngorms to Caithness, delivering for firms including beer company Tennent’s, M&h Carriers, Pegasus Couriers and JBT Freight.

Self-employed, she earns £144 for a 12-hour shift. She doesn’t work five shifts a week, but if she

did, it would equate to an income of £37,440 a year.

While her children, whom she is keen to protect, fearing their association with her might lead to abuse, are ‘quite amused’ their

mum is now a lorry driver, they are also very proud of her resilience.

Today, Gillian feels just as passionately that there should be no change in law to allow self-identification, and has been delighted by the number of feminists and free speech proponents who have sent her messages of support — including J. K. Rowling herself.

‘It was great to get a follow and a direct message from her, showing support,’ says Gillian.

Thanks to her new network, she managed to raise £40,000 through

crowdfunding to cover legal fees so she could take Working Partners to an industrial tribunal, claiming

discrimination on the grounds of her beliefs.

her claim has so far been unsuccessful, as the tribunal ruled that she was not an employee.

however, her legal team has won the right to appeal.

‘Tribunals can’t award a great deal of compensation, but the

important thing for me is to get

‘I felt betrayed. The threats took a serious toll’ ‘As horrible as it’s been, it was the right thing to do’

recognition of the fact that I was discriminated against and “let go” because of my beliefs,’ she says.

Considering the significant toll it has taken, I ask whether Gillian would have kept her views to herself, if she could go back in time.

‘No, I don’t regret adding that hashtag and I would do it again,’ she says, without hesitation. ‘As horrible and distressing as the aftermath has been, it was still the right thing to do.

‘These people got me fired and lost me my income, but I refuse to let them intimidate me to the point that I’m too scared to open my mouth.’

Gillian may have come a cropper in the publishing world for standing up for what she believes, but it’s easy to see why the straighttalking Scot is a big hit with her new colleagues.