Buyer’s Remorse Chapter 23 and Epilogue by Maeryn Lamonte Copyright © 2023 Just a couple of S words here and a few last things to tidy up before the close.

-oOo-

Chapter 23

“You know, after our last little disagreement, I wondered if you’d put the same amount of effort into this as you did the last one, but this is at least as good. Better maybe.”

He was preening in front of the mirror, enjoying the sensation of being backless and having skirts around his knees.

“You’ll never get less than my best,” I answered looking him over critically. “Call it a matter of pride.” I’d made notes at his first fitting and he hadn’t altered in size since, so the dress fit perfectly.

“Anyway, I was a bit of a dick.”

I’m not sure if he expected me to do the polite thing and object, but I opted for the marginally less polite thing and didn’t disagree.

“Er, well, I’m sorry is what I mean to say. And you know the saying, ‘say sorry with flowers’? Well, I have an apology for you.”

He led me to the back of the shop where the premises had its own parking spot, currently occupied by a Mini Clubman covered with floral decals.

“I can’t accept this,” I said. “It’s too much.”

“It’s not that much,” he smiled. “I mean it’s four years old. I did think about getting you a new one, but they're like thirty grand or something.”

“This has still got to be more than ten or twelve thousand? You don't spend that much on an apology.”

“I do, besides, the guy made me a deal. Look, call it an investment in our relationship – our business relationship, I mean. You made it pretty clear you’re not interested in more, and if we keep sharing cars to my events, I’m worried we’ll end up like we nearly did on our first evening together. In the long run this’ll be cheaper than my hiring a second car for you.”

“Who said I’ll be coming to your events?”

“Well for one thing, what if I have a wardrobe emergency?”

“The studios have people working for them who’re better than me with a needle and thread.”

“But don’t know the clothes like their designer. For another thing, where are you going to get that quality of free advertising?”

He had me there. He offered me the keys. “It’s taxed and MOTed for a year. You’ll just have to sort out your own insurance.

“Anyway, shouldn’t we be getting going? Our public awaits.”

We walked round to the front of the shop where we were met by an enthusiastic cheer. He held out his arms and made an elegant, twirling jump onto the stage his crew had put together the previous night, receiving a renewed roar of appreciation. For a while he was going to be the centre of attention.

“Hello gorgeous,” a voice said in my ear and I turned to find Paul standing behind me.

“You came!” I threw my arms around his neck in a far too familiar gesture, given we hadn’t been on our first date yet. “I didn’t think you could make it.”

“I wasn’t sure I could, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

I loosened his tie and eased his top button for him. “It’s not a formal event,” I said in response to his enquiring look.

He put an arm round my waste and I felt my knees buckle slightly. I leaned into him.

“I was worried I might be taking liberties,” he murmured.

“You are,” I said. “Don’t stop.”

Looking around the crowd, it seemed like nearly half were men wearing some form of skirt or dress. Women’s clothes that didn’t hang quite right or looked a bit at odds with their masculine occupants. I felt something of a thrill as I realised Sandy Shaw Couture really did have a market. I let the hope growing in me show while the crowd cheered its way through a selection of songs.

Eventually the music reached an end, having added to the gathered crowd, as it was intended to, and I was invited onto the stage. The crowd fell silent as I was put in front of a microphone.

“Good morning, everyone. Thank you for coming out, despite the weather.”

That earned me a polite laugh since there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“For quite some time now, the world’s of men and women have been drifting apart. Women are asserting their independence more and more, while at least some men seem stuck in the past trying to stop this.” My eyes chose that moment to find Max Andrews standing at the back of the crowd, looking disapproving. “There are other reasons, too many to go into right now, and it’s a shame, because every man has something feminine inside him, just as every woman has a masculine part to her. What we call masculine and feminine behaviour isn’t exclusively one thing or the other, and as we polarise, as we restrict ourselves to one part of our gender makeup, one limiting set of behaviour, we not only drive ourselves apart, but we bend ourselves out of shape. Perhaps not a square peg in a round hole, although that’s true of some of us, who can only find their place in life by filing off the corners,” I looked briefly at Jamie whose eyes were glistening with tears, “but at least an oval peg, which kind of fits, but not well.

“Sandy Shaw Couture is about blurring the lines a little. Back in the nineteen fifties, women fought for, and won, the right to wear trousers, and now almost no-one thinks twice about the bifurcated female form. It’s about time men had the same freedom of choice.”

I had to wait while the cheering subsided.

“It’s my hope that, as men embrace their feminine side without looking on it as a weakness, as women embrace their masculine side without thinking they have to give up the girls they carry inside, that we’ll realise we’re not so different, and that, rather than trying to prove that we’re each better than the other, that we’re better off discovering what we can do together.

“Ladies, and now at the outset, very much you gentle men. Without further ado, I would like to present to you Sandy Shaw Couture. Please come in and see what we can do for you.”

I waved at my business partner who did the thing with the giant scissors and the ribbon, which also dropped the cover away from the shop sign and signalled the curtains to be drawn away from the window displays. The effect was magical.

The crowd Oohed and aahed then started to move, most of them towards the shop. The girls could handle that though. I made my way over to where I had last seen Max.

“Hello Mr Andrews,” I said when I caught up with him. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in this sort of thing.”

“I’m not. It’s a ludicrous notion that’ll fail within a month, then you’ll all be asking for your old jobs back.”

I looked at the queue of customers waiting to go into the shop and shrugged. Evidence to the contrary, Mr Andrews.

“So, what are you doing out here at this time in the morning? I thought you’d all be hard at work now.”

“Yes. Well, thanks to you and your little stunt, we have a lot less work to do now.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. After you and your friends walked out, we missed quite a few deadlines, which meant we lost a lot of contracts and now we barely have enough work to keep the remaining staff busy.”

“Well, that’s not a bad thing is it? Having the correct amount of work to match your staff?”

“Our office overheads haven't changed Ms Shaw. We’ve all had to take a twenty percent cut in salary in order to stay in business.”

“Even yourself and Mr Clark?”

“Mr Clark chose to retire. The stress of the past month has... Well, suffice to say his doctor recommended and he accepted.”

One more dinosaur in the tar put then.

“Just think, all this could possibly have been avoided if you’d been prepared to work towards an equitable arrangement.”

“You’re a dangerous woman, Ms Shaw. Both arrogant and irresponsible. I regret having met you.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way Mr Andrews, but I suppose as long as you’re not prepared to consider that you and Mr Clark had some responsibility for what happened, we aren’t going to reach an agreement on who was at fault.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I doubt there’s any point in my trying to explain. You’d deny anything I accused you of. Why don’t you ask some of your staff – or some of mine for that matter – what prompted that first walkout, or what nearly turned into that second one? Why don’t you ask what it was that resulted in everyone quitting like they did? You know, that caused me as much of a problem as it did you.”

“How do you see that?”

“I didn’t have sufficient funding to pay twenty-four salaries – twenty-five including my own. I nearly lost the backer I had looking to renegotiate our deal.”

“By backer, you mean that singing abomination we were all compelled to listen to just now?”

“You really are limited to seeing the world through your own eyes, aren’t you? From my perspective, most people thoroughly enjoyed the music, and if you didn’t like it, nothing was compelling you to stay.

“I wish you well Max. But I’m not going to let you harsh my mellow any more.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means I’m having a wonderful day and I have no intention of letting you ruin it. Do feel free to pop into the shop any time.”

Back in the shop, we’d already shifted half our stock and we had a queue of people lining up at the enquiries desk with special requests. I joined them and spent the remainder of the morning sketching out variations of what was being asked for, showing swatches of the fabrics inspired by their ideas and generally helping to create one offs that people were prepared to pay four figures to own.

Steven had come in the first dress I’d made him with Michael in his matching skirt. They were in their element, talking to people – many of whom recognised Steven from his short-lived online fame – about what the whole thing was to them.

As lunchtime approached and I needed to get the boys back to school, I stepped away from the shop and dialled through to my old insurance company. I gave them details of the car and myself and used my debit card to pay the slightly eye-watering amount they wanted to charge someone with no recent experience and no no-claims.

I did a quick round of everyone there to thank them for their hard work. Paul had gone back to his clinic when the crowd started moving. The star attraction had stayed behind and apparently bought one each of everything we had in his size. He was still there, basking in the presence of his fans when I stepped into his line of sight.

“You might have told me you had a boyfriend.”

“It’s early days yet, so I wasn’t ready to say.”

“Listen, I know what we agreed to, and I know I was an arsehole when you asked to change things about, but is there any chance I can persuade you to do more than three outfits a year?”

“The three we agreed to won’t cost you anything, like this one which, as I said, is a gift. You want any more, you make a request and you pay the bespoke price. The more notice you give me, the more likely I’ll be able to do what you want when you want. Other than that, I’ll promise to try my hardest to fit in with your wishes.

“That’s great, because I have a tour coming up in a couple of months, and I want something new for every gig.”

“Nothing you bought today do you?”

“Hell no. That’s everyday wear. When I get up in front of my fans, it has to be all new, and eye-catching.”

“You know, it might have worked out cheaper if you’d renegotiated our deal. Call me on Monday and we’ll see what we can sort out. I’ll most likely need the girls’ help getting it all together in time.”

“They can stitch, but I want your designs.”

“Okay, deal. I’ll talk to you on Monday, and thanks for, you know.” I held up the keys.

I ushered the boys through to the back, blipped the remote to make the car talk to us and revelled in their excitement.

“Sandy,” Marjory called me back as the kids ran to the car to settle in. “We might have a teeny problem.”

“Oh yes?”

She showed me her phone screen which displayed how many orders we’d received through the internet.

“Wow! That’s... unexpected”

I’d spent a fair amount on the website, wishing to include an e-commerce option and knowing that a decent web provider doesn’t just give you a series of pretty pictures to look at, but does some sort of digital black magic to make sure people know they’re there to look at. I’d provided the photographs from the morning shoot on the beach, and since then the site had displayed the best of them on a rotation with a timer counting down to the launch of the site at the same time the shop opened. People had only been able to place orders for a couple of hours, but we already had significantly more than we could manage to make in a week.

“We need to find a clothing manufacturer who can take on at least some of this for us. Possibly all, given the number of individual requests we’ve had. A local business if possible, but at least UK based if not. I’ll want samples and prices, preferably today. Can you get on this and I’ll come back and help once I’ve dropped the kids off.”

I asked the boys if they wanted to change before heading into school, and neither of them did, so the school run ended up being quicker than I’d anticipated. Which was just as well given the mass of work we were facing. One of the girls phoned in an order to the local sandwich place, so at least I had something to eat when I returned.

I had three hours before I needed to pick them up again, so it was as well that Marjory was so good at her job, because, by the time I made it back to the shop, she had three local sewing shops waiting for us to visit. It took us a couple of hours to get around to them all, and we ended up agreeing a deal with two of them to fulfil our immediate needs with an open ended option to send more their way.

We were quick enough that I also had time to stop off and make a couple of additional purchases. Things I’d had my eye on for a while but had been waiting until I had a little more financial security to afford. The Internet orders hinted at a brighter future and this was definitely the time to invest in a little good will.

Back at the shop, I had the cutters cut out pattern pieces for each of the off-the-rack items we had on offer in all sizes, and I directed the sewers to focus on the bespoke pieces. The patterns, once the were cut, would be couriered to the sewing shops, who would then dispatch the orders by the end of business on Saturday. I didn’t feel that comfortable about sending stuff out without being involved in the quality control, but Marjory reassured me that the companies did that, and she’d been satisfied with what she’d seen.

She totalled the estimated intake just before seeing me out the door at three.

“We probably won’t need those other loans,” I said.

“Don’t count your chickens yet, Sandy. This is the first day which, from the way it’s gone, has been considerably better than usual. Give it a couple of weeks so we can see how business settles, and we’ll see how rich you’re going to be.”

“I want to bring everybody’s salary up to ten percent above what Clark’s was paying as soon as possible.”

“Again, early days. See how things are going at the end of the months and give them a bonus this time if you want to, but hold off on increasing salaries until you know you can afford it. Legally, it’s really hard to justify a reduction and wages, and it doesn’t leave your workforce feeling all that happy.”

“I bow to your superior wisdom.” I smiled and batted my eyelashes at her. “You’re so much better at this sort of thing than me.”

“Save that for your man,” she grinned. “I’m immune.”

The great thing about getting home around three fifteen, I discovered, was the availability of parking spaces. The parking problem in our street only seemed to manifest itself after the school run, and in particular at the end of the working day. Arriving home before the kids were released meant I had a pick of parking spots, the closest of which was within a couple of car-lengths of my front door.

I locked the car and headed straight for the school, arriving just as Michael’s class emerged. His school had no uniform, but needless to say, he was the only boy wearing a skirt. I’d been worried about how likely he was to be picked on, but the beaming smile he gave me as he ran over spoke of the acceptance his friends had obviously given him.

Steven wasn’t far behind, with Ann hanging off his arm and his usual friends hanging back and muttering to each other. Sadly, it didn’t take long for prejudice to set in.

Happily, he seemed to be coping with it all quite well.

“Hey Mum, Ann asked if it would be okay for her to come over after the game tomorrow.”

I still found it weird how much of a thrill came from being called that. I may not have been present when they made their appearance into the world, but I definitely felt a maternal bond.

“I don’t see any reason why not. Hello Ann.”

“Hi Mrs Shaw. Mum said she missed you yesterday, at the book club. Hopes everything is all right.”

“Tell her thanks for asking. It’s just been a busy week. I’m sure things will settle down soon.

“Do you fancy doing anything in particular tomorrow? Of course it depends on whether your mum’s okay with you coming in the car with us.”

“I didn’t know you had a car.”

“Something new and unexpected. I wondered if you might want to go to the Splash.”

“Sounds good. I’ll check with my mum. Does Steven have a bikini?”

“I think that might be going a little far, but he might look good in a tankini.”

“Hey you guys, I’m right here.”

And blushing quite furiously too.

Ann accompanied us most of the way home, then she and Steven did the saccharine sweet, ‘I don’t want to go’ bit. I snorted and shook my head. “You can walk her all the way home if you want,” I said. After all, most secondary schoolers went too and from school by themselves. I still had to be there for Michael, which meant Steven had to live with it.

The look of incredulous delight on his face gave me pangs of guilt that I hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“Really, Mum!?”

“Just don’t forget how you’re dressed, and keep an eye out for any older kids who might think they have a right to let you know how much they don’t like it. And if you’re not back here in, say... three quarters of an hour, I may have to come looking for you.”

Ann’s house was only ten minutes’ walk away, which gave them a whole twenty-five minutes to mope over how much they were going to miss each other, and that would have to be enough.

It gave me three quarters of an hour quality time with my youngest, which we spent snuggled on the couch, reading to each other – his choice.

When Steven finally drifted in through the door – close enough to his time limit that I’d started checking my watch – I sorted snacks and we chose a game to play.

Monopoly wasn’t my first choice since it could get quite acrimonious and it could last hours, but I’d played a version that at least fixed the latter problem. In addition to our choice of pieces – dog for Michael, car for Steven and iron for me – I put the boot on the starting place.

“What’s that for?” Steven asked.

“Special rule,” I said. “Every time anyone throws a double, the boot moves one forward. If you land on the square with the boot and it’s unclaimed, you can buy it for half price. If it is claimed, you pay double rent. The game ends when the boot makes it back to Go. Winner is whoever has most value at that time. It should keep the game to about an hour, after which I’ll need to start getting ready to go out.”

“Are you going to a show with that singer again?” Michael asked, rolling the dice. You know, youngest starts.

“Not tonight. This evening I have a date.”

“With Paul?” Steven asked. “I saw him there this morning, but I didn't get a chance to say hi.”

“Yes, with Paul. It was going to be last week, but he had something come up.”

“He’s really nice,” Steven said to Michael who was beginning to look worried. “Nothing like Dad.”

“And you have my promise, we all have to like him before he becomes a part of our lives.”

Steven rolled, bought and passed the dice to me. Double four which meant the boot moved, I had to pay income tax then roll again.

“What’ll happen to Dad?” Michael asked.

“Well, tax evasion’s a serious crime. He’ll go to prison, for some years I’d guess after what he did, and he’ll end up with a huge fine. He’ll probably still owe quite a lot to the government when he gets out.”

“Yes, but what’ll happen to him?”

“That’ll depend on him, sweetie. If he decides to be honest, he’ll get his business up and running again, he’ll pay off his debt and he’ll go back to living his life. He may meet someone else and get married again. He could be happy.”

“I don’t want that to happen to him. He’s a nasty man and he deserves to be punished.”

“Oh, he will be, don’t worry about that, but everyone deserves a second chance, and if they change, don’t they deserve to be forgiven?”

“Yeah, Mikey. It’s like me and you. Do you think I’m horrible and deserve bad things to happen to me?”

“No.’

“How about the way I used to be? You know around the time I beat up Jake?”

“That’s different.”

“How? I was mean and nasty just like Dad. I think I figured if I could be like him, maybe he’d like me, but fat chance of that.”

“Anyway,” I interrupted before Steven could be too affected by his memories, “it’s more likely he won’t try to change, which will mean he’ll get in more trouble and probably go back to prison.”

“Good!”

“You’d prefer for him to stay bad, so he can keep doing mean things to people and end up going back to prison?”

“Well...”

“Would you mind if I visited him in prison?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Oh, for a number of reasons. Partly to say sorry, because people don’t turn into what your dad is without a little input from those closest to them.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Mum,” Steven said.

“Maybe, but I didn’t do anything right, either. If I’d stood up to him sooner...”

“You’d have ended up with more bruises and broken bones.”

“Or we’d have left him sooner before he could turn into what he is. Partly I’d like to say I don’t hold anything against him. I need to tell him that so I don’t end up hating him.”

“Nothing’s going to stop me hating him.” And there were the storm clouds still behind Steven’s eyes.

“What good will that do? I heard once that when you don’t forgive someone for the mean things they’ve done to you, it’s a bit like drinking poison and hoping it kills them.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means your hatred won’t do anything to him – he probably doesn’t even think about the harm he’s caused – but it will eat away at you and stop you from becoming as utterly amazing as you can be.”

Michael landed on community chest an took a card. “It’s your birthday. Collect ten pounds from each player.”

We handed over the necessary.

“That reminds me,” I said. “I know it’s not anyone’s birthday any time soon, but I have a couple of gifts.”

A quick excursion to the car and I was back with a large box for Michael and a more floppy package for Steven, both smartly wrapped by one of the girls at the shop.

The paper on Michael’s didn’t last long. “Wow! Optimus Prime! And it’s the new one. He does so much more cool stuff!”

Steven was more careful opening his. He looked up at me, stunned.

“I took a bit of advise from Jake,” I told him. “It’s their latest strip and he suggested Fernandes is the new Ronaldo when it comes to who you might want.”

“Thanks Mum. This must have cost a fortune.”

It had. Neither present had been cheap, but they deserved something for coping with me while I’d been rushing around getting the shop open.

“Is it okay?” I could see he was considerably less enthusiastic than his brother, who had completely lost interest in the board game.

“It’s great. Just...”

“Just what?”

“Can I borrow your phone?”

I handed it over. He tapped away for a bit then handed it back. It showed the shop website and one of our new designs.

“You’d rather have this than a Bruno Fernandes Man U jersey?”

He shrugged. “I think I’d look good in it.”

“I’ll pick you one up on Monday, and you can keep that too. I mean, I’m not sure I could get my money back on it anyway.”

“Well, could I...? I mean I’ll pay you for it from my pocket money.”

“Could you what?”

The knock on the door was most likely Charlie and Jake. Conversation to be continued later.

Charlie had brought tea. Well, pizza from one of the franchise’s, so high on carbs and flavour but low on vitamins, but if I was going to have fun tonight, then they deserved to as well.

“Okay boys, can you clear up the game, since we seem to have lost interest, or maybe Jake could take my place? I need to go and get ready.”

“Jake, this is for you.” Steven had done a better than passable job of resealing the package. “It’s kind of my way of saying thanks for being such a great friend when I didn’t deserve it.”

Jake looked at his mum who looked at me. I looked at Steven, who shrugged and grinned a lopsided grin that would definitely have been something I’d have liked about his dad once upon a time. I shrugged too and nodded.

Jake’s enthusiasm over the gift left Charlie with no easy way of refusing it, so she didn’t. Instead she asked, “So, where’s my gift?”

“Not so much a gift,” I smiled, “but I do owe you some money, which I can give you with, what, twenty percent interest?”

“I’ll take the money since you so obviously can afford it, but you know what you can do with the damned interest. That loan was between friends.”

“Alright then.” I handed over what I owed her. “You’ll have to wait till next week for your gift, like Steven.” I’d known her long enough to have learnt what colours and styles she preferred, and I had an idea or two of what would look good on her. “Right now though, I need to get ready.” I left them to whatever they decided to do and headed upstairs to go through all the rigmarole of making myself look stunning.

I won’t go through the boring details, but suffice to say, an hour and a half later, I felt clean, smelt wonderful and was trying to convince myself that I looked awesome too. This was the evening to try out the little black dress, only either it had shrunk or I’d grown since I’d tried it on in the shop. I mean, I know the word is in the description, but mine definitely put the emphasis on the little.

I squeezed into it alright, and I didn’t particularly look like I was trying to squeeze out of it, but the cleavage was decidedly low and the hemline just as decidedly high. It was one of those figure hugging designs I’d never have considered in my previous life because I’d never have been able to hide my bulge under the tight skirt, and that might have been what persuaded me to buy it. Sheer charcoal tights showed off almost the entire length of my admittedly spectacular legs. I wouldn’t have got away with stockings and suspenders, unless my intention was to show off what was underneath. It would have been equally unforgiving with any rolls of fat, so it was as well that I had managed to get rid of the last of those too.

I draped a white crocheted cardigan over my shoulders, stepped into a pair of freshly polished two and a half inch heels to keep me at just the right height for my date, gave my makeup one last check and headed for the stairs.

“Damn, girl!” was about all Charlotte managed on first sight. The boys sat with open mouths and slices of pizza suspended half-way to mouths.

“Too much?” I asked.

“Depends on what you're trying to do. If you’re looking to turn straight girls gay, I’d say you got it about right.”

“Shit! Sorry kids, I really want him to like me.”

“Oh, no problem there, girlfriend. Ain’t no red blooded heterosexual male gonna say no to that.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Shit, he’s here. Stall him will you, while I get changed.”

“No thank you ma’am. I’s jus’ here to mind the littlun's. You can answer your own damn door.”

“Steven, would you answer the door for me, sweetie?”

“Huh?”

No help there then. I gave Charlie an angry glare, which only brought out more of her smile. She was having way tolo much fun.

No help for it. I swallowed as much of my nervousness as I could manage and opened the door.

“Good even... whoa!” His eyes settled on the assets I had so generously out on display.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Not the way I would have gone.” His eyes drifted southwards towards the equally expansive length of leg I was showing off.

“Look, come in.” I stood to one side and waved him inside. “I’ll get changed. It won’t take a sec.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” His eyes were making their way back north, pausing to take in the view my very pert bum made through the tight fabric of the dress.

“I beg your pardon?” There must have been a sharper element to my voice than I’d intended. His eyes snapped to mine, looking concerned.

“I always knew you were beautiful, Sandy, but right now you are breath-taking, and if you could stand to be seen like that, it would give my ego an immense boost to have you on my arm tonight. You have my word that I will do my level best to address the most beautiful part of you throughout the entirety of the evening.”

“And have you made up your mind which part of me that happens to be.”

“No contest,” he said with a smile, and reached out a hand to caress my cheek. He waited until my features softened, then, “Actually,” he gave my various assets a quick look over, “maybe there is. A contest I mean.” His eyes returned to mine and he broke into a grin at the fire he found there. “Joking,” he said, then once again, softly, seriously, “Joking.”

“Well, if you’re sure this doesn’t look too trashy.”

“Not a word that could possibly exist in the lexicon of terms that describe you.”

“Will you two get the hell out of here before one of us throws up?” Charlotte shouted from the back room.

Little dress meant little purse, which meant bare necessities only. I checked to make sure I had them – lipstick, mini perfume spray, tampon, taxi fare, mobile phone, house keys. It’d have to do; the small bag was already bulging close to capacity. I followed him out to his car.

Epilogue

I didn’t recognise the pub until we’d almost arrived. The carpark was around the back, and it was only as we were pulling into an empty space that I began to spot familiar features.

I stepped out of the car and straightened my dress, pulling the hem down as far as it would go without stretching the material – which was a worryingly small amount. The back door would be there, which meant... I turned and looked across to the opposite side of the road...

A cigarette tip flared in the darkness.

“Are you alright?” Paul asked.

“Yeah. Would you give me a minute?”

He followed my gaze and gave me a cheeky smile. “Want to score some dope?” he joked.

“If it’s who I think, he doesn’t deal in that sort of thing.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Spritzer please. Rose if they have it, white if not.”

“Any particular wine?”

“Nothing expensive in a spritzer. Pinot Grigeo, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, something like that.”

“If you don’t join me in five minutes I’m coming looking for you.”

Echoes of what I’d said to Steven earlier. I wondered if my son had felt the same warm sense of being cared for.

“I won’t be that long.”

I crossed the road. Same red suit, same red trilby, same sardonic smile.

“Still touting for customers?” I asked

He took a last drag on his cigarette and flicked it away.

“For a minute there I thought you were going to say victims.”

“It did feel like that a few times.”

“But not now?”

“No. At the end there it felt like a lot of things went my way that ought not to have.”

He shrugged . “I did say you were owed a little karma, and you wouldn’t ask for anything, so I decided for you. Did I do wrong?”

“I suppose not.”

“So, no regrets?”

“Why should I have regrets?”

“It happens more often than you’d think. You want something so much you can’t think of anything else until you have it. Only then do you realise you really didn’t want it in the first place. Buyer’s remorse, I think it’s called.”

“Well, I’m not sure about this dress. It didn’t feel like I was exposing quite so much skin when I tried it on in the shop.”

“It looks quite stunning on you, and you know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“You’re not the first to say so, but I’m still not sure.” I tugged at the hem, then mentally chided myself for doing so. “As for the other, just what should I be regretting?”

“In my experience, most people like yourself who desperately want the physical reality of becoming a woman, don’t really have a realistic idea of what that means. There are pros and cons to any exchange, and you’d be surprised how many folk are so fixated on the things they want that they overlook the things they don’t realise they’re going to get.”

“Like the monthly grots, you mean?”

“That’s one of them, certainly.”

My turn to shrug. “They’re no worse than I’d imagined. What else?”

“Ooh, I don’t know. Being smaller, being weaker, being objectified, impracticality of clothing, cost of clothing, uncomfortable footwear, less capacity for booze, less capacity for food, constant need to diet, unwelcome attention from men, inability of some of them to take no for an answer, aggressive responses and name calling after being told no, being afraid of that sort of man, of going anywhere on your own, of going out after dark, the list is quite extensive.”

“Are you trying to put me off?” I laughed.

“Hey! You did ask.”

“I suppose I did.”

“It does raise a point though. I mean, now that your business is taking off, wouldn’t you prefer to be a man...? With options?”

“It isn’t just the clothes, you know? They were only ever a way to help me feel more... well... me.

“I’ve always preferred small and cute over big and intimidating, only I never had the choice before. Strength is overrated; it pushes you into thinking you need to be independent and self-reliant. Not having any of that leaves me free to look for support from the people around me. People who’re in a similar situation, so I’m just as free to offer it.

“I’m part of a community now, where we’re all just as ready to give and receive. I may have been bigger and stronger before as an individual, but it doesn’t come close to what I have with my friends. I have a sense of belonging now that I never had before.

“I could go on. Every argument you have I can argue back. Sure, the clothes are expensive and impractical, but they’re worth it for the way they make me feel. Sure, high heels hurt, but you should try wearing them when you’re twice my current weight. Again worth it for the heads they turn.”

“What about the envy you felt in the limo, on the way back from that first TV appearance?”

“Were you spying on me?”

“Keeping an eye on you, let’s say.”

“I was drunk. Okay, yes I miss the heady rush of stepping out of guy mode for a bit, but I wouldn’t trade it for the ordinary, every day sense of rightness I have just from wearing this skin.”

“You don’t mind taking on the responsibility of somebody else's children?”

“But they’re not somebody else's. They’re mine. When you put me in this body, it came with all the maternal instincts associated with being a mum...”

“The old Sandy seemed happy to be shot of them.”

“I can’t speak for her. After eleven years in her situation, I might have been just as desperate to escape, and now he doesn’t have any of the hormonal ties, he’s probably finding it easy to let go.”

“Sounds like you can speak for him.”

“Him, yes. Her, not so much. As for me, I may not have been present when this body gave birth to my boys, but I can’t help the way I feel about them, and I wouldn’t if I could. They’re my kids and I love them.

“Speaking of, how is my counterpart getting on?”

“That’s between him and me, don’t you think?”

“I suppose, but I do feel kind of responsible.”

“Why? You both made your choices. I was here to facilitate them. You don’t owe him a thing.”

“He wasn’t doing so well last time I saw him.”

“There’s always a period of adjustment after a transition. His was rougher than most, but he’s coming around.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair, is all. This was supposed to be good for both of us, and the last I heard he was broke and jobless with the mess of that car business to deal with.”

“Who’s to say it isn’t fair? I mean what was your definition of the word? Everyone gets what they need? What’s to say he didn’t need a chance to face the consequence of his choices without them being too severe?”

“So by that argument, what I needed was a couple of spoilt brats and a homicidal maniac for a husband?”

“I thought you said you loved your kids.”

“I did. I do. It doesn’t mean I liked them much when I first met them.”

“I suppose not. But then again, being fair you understand, maybe what your kids needed was someone like you in their lives. The same way all those people who came into your shop earlier needed a new way to feel like themselves.

“But to be completely fair, you should also get what you need out of this. So once again, any regrets?”

I thought about what I had. Good looks regained from what I'd been given, a caring and attractive man, also an improvement on what I’d started out with, two kids who made me proud and filled me with joy every day – ditto – the beginnings of a career I loved, and a circle of amazing friends. There wasn’t much else I could want.

“No.” I smiled at him. A deep seated, satisfied smile. “No regrets.”

“Then my work here is done. A pleasure doing business with you.” He touched the brim of his had and made to walk away.

“Why me?”

He paused and turned back. “I’m sorry?”

“Why me? There must be millions like me. Jamie, for instance. The trans-girl who works for me. I’ve never heard of you going to anyone else.”

“I didn’t do it just for you, Sandy.”

He, disappeared into the dark.

It wasn’t much of an answer, but I could live with it as long as I continued to wake up every morning in this new life, and he’d not given me any reason to believe I wouldn’t.

I headed into the pub, and found Paul at the bar. I walked over to him and melted into him, looking up into his smiling eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I realised I deprived you of the pleasure of walking into this establishment with me on your arm. Maybe this’ll make up for it.”

I reached up a little towards him, but it didn’t feel like my place to initiate the kiss. It had never felt that way, which was probably why I'd always struggled to begin relationships in my previous life. I paused and backed off a little, waiting, letting him know I was his if he wanted me.

Apparently he did, but he made me wait for it. His way of telling me this wasn’t how it should be done perhaps. Eventually he reached forward and gently caressed my lips with his.

I’d worried that this might bring on another memory flash of my last experience with George, but Paul was so very different – all giving and no taking. The kiss was everything I could have imagined and more. It was electricity. It was waves of hot and cold. It was breath-taking adrenaline and so much more.

“Maybe we could wait until after we’ve eaten before we try that again,” he said once we had resurfaced.

“Anything you say. One proviso though. Either neither of us has garlic, or we both do.”

There was that smile. “Do you have to have the last word in everything?”

“Only when it matters.”

“Which is all the time?”

“Mmmnn.” I rested my head contentedly against his chest. He got me.

“It looks like our table is ready. Don’t forget you drink.”

I picked up my spritzer, which was a pleasing pink colour despite the half-melted ice cubes. That was okay too. They’d dilute the flavour, but a spritzer ought to be cold. I took a sip and latched onto his arm, leaning my head against his shoulder as he guided me through...

...past where my former drinking buddies were sitting. Stuart in particular stared at me over the top of his unfortunately bulbous nose.

Actually, the focus of his attention was about a foot below my eye level.

“Phwagh,” he said, “look at the jugs on that!”