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It's What I Want
by Tanya Allan |
Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.
Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.
But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.
In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!
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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want © 2009 Tanya Allan
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
Chapter 6
I looked out of the aircraft window at the famous New York skyline. It was brilliant. I felt very sad as I missed the Twin Towers that had been here on my last visit a few years ago.
I had never travelled first class before, so it felt very decadent. Steve was still playing one of the games when the console switched off. Here we were, flying over one of the best landmarks in the world and my boyfriend was playing games.
I had put the phone down on Penny in somewhat of a quandary. Should I go, should I stay? What was the impact on my career by doing either? In the end, I had gone to see my business studies tutor, Mr Gateshead.
He still shook his head in wonder at the transformation I had experienced. He was another one whose eyes kept dipping to my chest.
“Well, Donna, you're one of the few straight A students in the year. I think that you could quite happily miss a few weeks, as long as you do the reading and collect the lecture notes off my web page. Your assignments have been consistently excellent, so you are not due another one until just before the Christmas break.
“As your trip is business related, I'm sure that you may find the time to complete a paper on the media industry and some of the crucial factors that you can identify.”
I smiled.
“Thanks, Mr Gateshead. I just needed you to tell me that.”
“Donna, I am a bit curious?”
“Yes?”
“When were you first aware that things weren’t quite right?”
“Ages ago, but I just had to make do with what I had.”
“Well, Don was a good student, but you are so different, I find it hard to believe.”
“You mean I’m not a good student?” I asked, with a smile.
“No, no, not at all. You're still a good student, but you seem to have a very much more outgoing personality now.”
“Thanks, it's because I'm now who I should be,” I said, and left feeling ten feet tall.
My French tutor had similar advice, as she was more than happy with my progress. She gave me several French novels and told me to write a critique on my favourite. She was actually thrilled that I was playing a French girl in the movie, and was dying to see my performance.
Steve, however, was a different problem. His grades were not brilliant, and with one retake already on the cards, his tutor was unlikely to be as enthusiastic about letting him go.
“Go without me,” he said, miserably.
“Not an option,” I said, and he smiled.
“How then?”
“Why don’t you explain that you’ll write a paper on the whole movie scene, on all aspects of the pre-release hype, the publicity campaigns, the Premier and Star machine. Just a sort of diary with intelligent commentary?”
He stared at me.
“Huh?”
I smiled.
“Let's both of us go and see Professor Timms. Hopefully, he's still embarrassed about the last time, he may just fall for my patter,” I said.
He was and he did.
Here we were on approach for JFK Airport at New York.
Penny had told me that I should expect a little press interest on my arrival and that David would be there to meet us. So I dressed up. I had a dark skirt, it was tight and knee length, but had a slit up the back so I could walk. I wore a cream blouse and a dark jacket that matched the skirt. I spent the time that the plane taxied to the pier to repair my make up, and was happy that I didn’t look too much of a mess. My mother had given me a lovely string of pearls, so I was satisfied that I wouldn’t disgrace myself.
As soon as the doors opened, one of the BA stewards approached me.
“Miss Armitage, I've been asked to tell you that a special facilities manager will escort you and your partner through the immigration and customs channels to the VIP press room. I understand that you will be met there by representatives of the studio.”
We were whisked on a little buggy and our passports checked and stamped in a small private room. The studio had clout.
Our bags were collected by a porter, cleared through US customs, and taken directly to the waiting limousine. Steve and I were taken to a room that had a small raised platform, with six chairs behind a table, and about fifty chairs facing them, in stacked tiers.
Nothing could have prepared me for the mass explosion of flash bulbs as we walked through the doors, David was standing talking to some other men, and he turned as we entered. There were about forty photographers and as many reporters in the room, I suddenly felt very nervous indeed.
David came over and gave me a big kiss and a hug.
“Just keep smiling and keep your answers short,” he whispered to me.
He then hugged his son, who looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time.
I was seated in the centre of the group of chairs on the platform. Steve sat next to me on my right and David was on my left.
David raised his hand and some hush fell.
“Thank you ladies and gents. Miss Armitage has, as you see, just got off the plane after a long flight, so I would ask that you keep your questions short and to a minimum. She will be available for the press at the Waldorf Astoria tomorrow from nine in the morning, should you want a personal interview,” he said.
The questions started, and they were easy, for the most part. What did I think of New York? What did I think of my co-star, Craig? Was there any truth in the rumour that we had been lovers? Was I really a student? Did I plan to sing much while in New York? And the one that stunned me completely: - Was I pleased to have a US number one?”
That rendered me completely speechless, so I gaped at them like a goldfish.
“Didn’t you know?” one asked.
“No, I didn’t, but I’m thrilled,” I said, and looked at David, who grinned conspiratorially. I had no idea.
Steve was asked what it was like to be engaged to a rising movie star, and he just grinned and replied, “Donna is just Donna. She’s just great. I love her to bits.”
I was asked a few more questions about my songs and the movie, and then David called a halt. I posed for the cameras for five minutes, and signed a few autographs. Peace descended, so we were taken to the limo that was just outside the doors.
I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief.
“You were simply marvellous, darling,” said David.
“Huh,” I snorted, it had been a real ordeal.
“You handled it like the true professional that you are.”
“Oh yes, and what’s this about a US number one?”
“Ah, my little surprise for you. It got there yesterday. We tried to release it with the right level of publicity just in time for the Premier.”
“You manipulated the market?”
“It’s business, plain and simple. You shouldn’t complain; have you checked your bank account recently?”
“No, why?”
“I suggest you do, and if you haven’t already got one, get a financial adviser.”
We arrived at the Waldorf Astoria, where we were shown a suite of rooms that was just out of this world. The view over Central Park and New York was just breathtaking.
Steve jumped on the enormous bed, with a transparent grin on his face.
“Hey this is as good as Monte Carlo.”
“Why have we got three bedrooms? There’s just the two of us,” I asked, and he shrugged.
The days sped past, I went from TV studio to TV studio, and from radio show to radio show. I sang live; I chatted; I answered questions from chat show hosts and from the public on phone-in shows. Steve came with me to every event, and without his support I don’t think I should have managed.
I had yet to see the movie. But on each show I saw different clips, so I was intrigued to see the whole thing. If I was intrigued, I hoped that the public would be as well.
Finally, the day of the Premier arrived, and I bought a long black evening dress especially for it. I spent all day having my hair done, manicures and a facial, and Steve went and bought a smart tux.
We rolled up with David, in the limo, and against a barrage of flash bulbs made our way to the movie theatre entrance. I stopped and chatted with some of the crowd who had braved the wet November evening to come and see us. I felt very humble and a real fraud.
I wanted to scream, “I’m not really special. I’m just an ordinary girl who wants to live her life in peace, and it is all a mistake.”
Instead, I signed damp pieces of paper, and shook hands with complete strangers under the watchful and nervous eyes of lots of New York cops.
There was a press call inside and I posed with Steve, and then with Craig. I met his girlfriend, and she was a quiet girl called Anne-Marie, She was pretty, but seemed completely overwhelmed by the limelight.
We sat in very comfortable seats, and I watched the movie for the very first time.
It was brilliant. I had no idea that it would have turned out as well. But the girl, Monique, wasn’t me. She was someone completely different! Her whole manner was alien to me, as her voice was deep and husky, while her movements were elegantly fluid and yet slightly sultry. She oozed sex appeal and seemed just so foreign.
The final sex scene was very realistic and exceptionally steamy. I refused to look at Craig, and it was very odd watching myself, knowing that we were actually screwing. It certainly looked convincing, and I found myself becoming aroused just by watching. So did Steve, as his hand started to slide down my knickers.
“Not now!” I said, and the hand withdrew.
The film ended, to a surprising round of applause. David gestured for me to stand, so I did so, feeling very embarrassed. Craig stood and he nodded to me, with a secret smile on his face. I smiled back and looked away.
We had a party afterwards, which ended in a nightclub. I was persuaded to take to the stage and sing three or four numbers from the movie, and the only one that I had written for the next one, so far. David was over the moon, as this was in the papers the next day. The song was entitled, Why me? I wrote it from the heart, as everything that had happened to both me and Monique was pure chance.
The movie itself received mixed critical acclaim, the worst saying it was the usual weak plot, enhanced by gratuitous sex and violence and computer generated special effects.
The best said that it was a real edge of the seat experience, with excellent plot, characters and realistic dialogue.
The acting was by and large acceptable, said most, but several drew attention to the superb British newcomer, Donna Armitage. One said, - The delightful Donna, whose sultry nightclub singer brought a new dimension of female strength to the screen. Another, - Her whole performance brought a refreshing breath of excitement to the female lead. Her acting was so believable, that she carried the film.
Steve said he would have to ask the hotel to widen the doors so I could get my head through.
I threw a pillow at him, but was sufficiently brought back down to earth.
We were invited to a special dinner by the studio, where plans for the next movie were released. I was invited to sing Why me? again. There was another press call, and the intended Movie was officially unveiled, and it was entitled, Fatal Flaw. David told everyone that he was enthusiastic about the script and plot, and that several other famous names were interested in the many parts on offer.
In reality, there was no script, no plot and only one person so far cast, me. However, the build-up was amazing.
Steve and I left the dinner, to be taken back to the hotel in the limo. I was beginning to yearn for the little house in Portsmouth.
We arrived back at the hotel well after midnight, and walked across the empty lobby. Steve pressed the call button on the elevator panel and we stood and waited.
Something made me turn around, as I sensed that I was being watched. I caught a fleeting glance of someone duck out of view behind a pillar. I frowned, and went to see who it was.
I stopped and stared.
“Dad?”
My father was dressed in a suit, but it was stained and wrinkled. His shoes were dirty and scuffed and there was a hole in his trousers over the right knee. He was unshaven and thin, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked dreadful.
“Hello Donna.” he said, in a weak and pathetic voice. He wouldn’t look at me.
Gone was the pompous, arrogant man, who was always immaculate. Gone was the self-assured egotist, who had been totally concerned with self. In his place was a complete wreck of a man, who was as low as anyone could get.
“Donna, are you okay, love?” said Steve, who had come to see what I was up to. He stared at the man who was once my father.
“It’s my Dad,” I said.
Steve looked at me.
“Him?” his voice full of surprise. This wreck of a man was nothing like the man about whom I’d spoken so often.
“Yup, him. He’s not the man I knew, I grant you, but I’m afraid it is him.”
“Do you want me to throw him out?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“No, just leave us for a sec, please, love?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll wait over there, give me a shout if you want me,” Steve said, and went to sit down where he could see me.
My father was looking at me. Tears were in his eyes.
“Why are you here?” I asked, feeling cold towards him. He’d been an ogre in my mind that I found that this shell of a man wasn’t the slightest bit frightening. I couldn’t feel sorry for him though.
“I came to say goodbye,” he said, unable to look into my eyes.
“Why, are you planning to chuck yourself of Brooklyn bridge?” I asked, not without a hint of sarcasm.
He looked up, a pained expression on his face, surprise and anguish very evident.
“Oh my God. You are!”
He looked away, crying now. I tried to be angry, but no longer had it in me. The hurt was still there. I stood and watched someone who had been a giant in my life, turn into a mouse.
“I saw your film,” he said.
“Oh?”
“You were brilliant.”
“Not bad for a deviant child,” I said, sarcastically.
He just seemed to crumple, sitting on the marble floor, his body wracked with sobs.
A stocky man in a Hotel blazer came over.
“Hotel security, Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”
“I’m not sure. Dad, are you bothering me?” I asked.
He looked at me through the tears of self-pity.
No, I don’t think he is, not yet anyway. Thanks though.”
“No Problem, Ma’am. If you need assistance, I’ll be on the desk.”
“Thank you.”
“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t understand, I had no idea,” he said, between sobs. I found it hard to work out whether it was through self-pity or genuine remorse.
“You didn’t try very hard.”
He sat there. I noticed that his trousers were wet, as he’d even pissed himself. I could smell the urine mixed with liquor. He wasn’t that drunk anymore.
“So, where’s your other woman now?” I asked.
“Gone. Once the money dried up, she went.”
“Well, there’s a thing!” I said.
For the first time, he looked directly at me. I saw that his eyes were bloodshot.
“You’re a very strong woman,” he stated.
“Oh, well done, you noticed my gender!” I said, but immediately regretted the sarcasm.
He simply looked up at me in such a pathetic manner, my heart softened.
“Yeah, I wonder why?” I said, and he almost smiled.
“You’re also very beautiful.”
I said nothing.
“I was so proud of you tonight. I found myself telling everyone that you were my daughter. They all thought I was drunk. I wasn’t. I never was there for you, was I?”
“Nope. Except to criticise and moan at me, and to ridicule and belittle. I can honestly say, Dad, that I hated you. I’ve hated you for so long that I don’t ever think I loved you at all. Because when I looked for support, encouragement or love, I never got it from you. I got it all from Mum, and thanks to her, I am who I am today,” I said.
I was crying now, as all the hurt all the bitterness was now surfacing. I was finally able to confront the man who had made my life a misery for so long.
The wreck of a man sat in a damp heap, smelling of urine and cheap booze. There was little satisfaction in the exercise.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I realise now how much I do love you, and your mother,” he said.
“Words don’t work. Only actions do,” I said, and he looked at me.
“What?”
“Prove it. Prove you’re sorry. Prove you love us.”
“How?”
“Well for a start stop making a complete arse of yourself. Self-pity never helped anyone. Do you think by presenting yourself to me like this, I’d embrace you and say, ‘there there, poor Daddy, I forgive you? Let’s become a happy family again, and give you lots of money so you can become a selfish bastard again.’ Well, think again. I’m your daughter, I may not like it, but it’s true. I’m a hard nut, Dad, so I’ll not give in to you, or any attempt at emotional blackmail. You’re lying there because of what you’ve done to others. No other reason.
“Mum loved you so much, so that she was even ready to forget about all the women over the last twenty years.”
He looked up at me sharply.
“Oh, you never thought she knew, did you? Well, she did, and because she loved you, God knows why, but she did. She put up with you for so long, she deserves to be a saint.”
He looked down.
I stood over him, but I physically felt my emotion dissipate.
I knelt down and touched his arm. When I spoke, my voice had lost its hard edge.
“Dad. The ball is in your court. If you want to chuck yourself off a bridge, then that’s for you. But you owe it to the grandchildren you will never see to think about the kind of person who stoops so low. You may have fucked up your marriage, and any hope of a close relationship with your daughter. There’s always a chance that some things can be repaired. If you start to give instead of take and live for others, then who knows, I might even want to get to know you again. But when you smell this bad, think again.”
He looked up at me and met and held my gaze.
“My God, what a wonderful daughter I have,” he said, and almost smiled.
I couldn’t help it; I smiled, even though I tried not to.
“You are so beautiful when you smile. Did you know that?”
“So Steve says.”
“Steve? Is that your fiancé over there?”
“Yes. That’s Steve.”
“He’s a fine young man. He loves you.”
“I know, and I love him. That’s why we are getting married.”
He nodded, and a waft of stale pee hit my nostrils again.
“Dad, you really smell bad,” I said.
He smiled again, just. “I’ve not been at my best recently. I spent my last $10 on the movie, and I couldn’t even afford a hotdog.”
“I’m bloody glad that I didn’t have to sit next to you.”
He half smiled at me again.
“When did you last eat?”
He shrugged.
“Shit, Dad, you’re a mess!”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
I looked at him. I couldn’t leave him like this, I may have hated him, but this pathetic creature was not the monster I had hated so much.
I stood up and waved for Steve. He ran over.
“Help me get the sod to our suite,” I said.
To give Steve his due, he simply smiled and nodded, effortlessly lifting my father to his feet.
“What?” I said to him.
“Nothing,” he said with a smile.
“Come on, Steve, why the smile?”
“You’re too fucking nice,” he said, turning, half carrying and half dragging my dad to the elevator.
We took him to the second bathroom and put him in the bath. Steve then shooed me out.
“Look, I’ve experience with drunks on the rugby tour, just order him some food,” he said, so I went and called room service. I ordered a large steak sandwich and loads of French fries.
I heard the shower going, and Steve came out with all Dad’s clothes in a plastic bag.
“These are all ruined, so he’ll need clean stuff,” he said and I nodded.
Half an hour later, dressed in a white towelling robe, and smelling nice and clean, my father ate the first proper food he had eaten in a week.
“Slowly Dad. Otherwise you’ll puke,” I said, stealing a chip.
We put him to bed in a spare room, in which he fell asleep almost instantly, whimpering away like a child. We then went to bed ourselves and Steve held me for ages.
“Donna?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you so lovely?”
I shrugged.
He kissed me, and we eventually dozed off in each other’s arms.
We awoke late, but found my father still asleep. We ordered breakfast in the room and, at eleven, I woke him up. He looked confused for some time, but eventually he managed to focus on me.
He blinked and rubbed his eyes, and then frowned. I sat on his bed.
“How long have you been drinking?”
He shrugged.
“Two, three weeks, I don’t remember.”
“Well Dad, it stops now.”
He looked at me and frowned.
“Don’t frown at me, you sod. You came to me, and like it or not, you’re still my father. So, you do what you’re told for once in your life. Okay?”
He nodded.
“Now go and shower, there is a razor, but only if you don’t try anything silly. You won’t, will you?”
He shook his head.
“I’ll fucking castrate you if you do,” I said.
He smiled.
“Breakfast is on its way, and no booze. Right?”
He nodded.
“RIGHT?” I asked.
“Yes, no booze.”
“You even think about it, and I’ll throw you off the bridge myself,” I said, leaving him to it.
The breakfast arrived and he appeared, still haggard, but clean-shaven and looking much more presentable. I had a quiet word with the waiter, who removed all the contents of the mini-bar.
“Donna, my clothes?”
“In the bin,” I said, as I poured myself a coffee.
“Oh. I haven’t any more.”
“Good, then you will have to stay in for a while,” I said. Steve smiled and looked away.
“I’ll need something,” he said.
“Have you any money?”
“No.”
“Then you will have to earn it,” I said.
“How?”
“You’re the financial genius. I need a financial adviser. You have a choice, you either work for me, or you can go to the job centre.”
“You want to employ me?”
“Do you have a problem with having a female boss?”
“No, but..”
“But what?”
“I thought…”
“What?”
“You would employ me, after everything that has happened?” he said, complete bewilderment in his voice.
I stared at him.
“If I can’t trust my father, who the hell can I trust?” I said, and he dissolved into tears again.
The hotel arranged for a tailor to come to the room, so by lunchtime my father was dressed in a new suit and looked a different man.
“Donna, I can’t work for you, I’m completely unworthy,” he said.
“Bollocks. I intend for you to work your arse off. You owe me for the suit, the room and the food. So like it or not, you’ve already started,” I said, and he grinned.
“You’re very like me, you know?” he said.
I looked so hard at him that he reddened and looked away.
“Do not ever say that again,” I said. The hard edge was back. I could be a real bitch when I wanted to be.
“I’m sorry. But I never imagined you as such a strong person.”
“I’m strong because of what you did to me, not because of what you did for me. Never forget that.”
He gazed at me, looking so pathetic that I felt my anger subside.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, but it’s hard to imagine what you and you mother went through.”
“Don’t even try. One day we may talk about it, but not yet.”
I discussed my financial situation, and gave him some details, such as accounts and the like. I had a fair idea what was going on, but to be honest, it didn’t excite me in the slightest. So I told him to sort it out for me. He immediately got to work, so I left him to it.
David came bursting in, unannounced as usual. I explained the little saga, and he looked absolutely delighted, rubbing his hands with total glee. We were flying home on the following day, and he was making plans for the next movie already. We made a couple of dates for meetings about the music and my role. He kissed me soundly, hugged his son and shook dad’s hand before leaving us once more.
Steve and I spent the day relaxing, taking a ride round Central Park in a horse drawn buggy. We did a bit of shopping, but I was recognised and had to sign hundreds of autographs before escaping back to the hotel.
We went out for dinner, with my father and David to a restaurant, but several photographers were waiting for us when we left.
The story hit the papers the next morning.
| Rising Movie Star’s unfaithful father saved by big-hearted daughter |
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“Bloody hell,” I said, and showed Steve.
“What do you bet that was my father?” he said.
“Why?”
“Free publicity. They say in show business, that there is no such thing as bad publicity.”
“It makes Dad out to be a real bastard.”
“Wasn’t he?”
“Yes, but why should everyone know?”
“You’re in a different world now, my love. Your business is everyone’s business.”
“I don’t know if I want to stay in this world in that case.”
We were taken to the airport, and flew home. I already had several messages from Penny, so became aware that the merry-go-round was still going strong. No sooner had we arrived in the UK and the whole farce started again, leading up to the release of the movie in Britain.
Steve and I headed back to Portsmouth, where I bought a small flat for my father. It seems that I was an exceptionally wealthy young lady, and he was busy investing in property on my behalf.
My father and I sat down and worked out how my financial affairs were going to be run. Dad appeared to be a very changed man. Although I still was wary of him, he was obviously deeply affected by recent events. He refused to take a percentage, as we agreed a fixed salary for twelve months. He asked me to tell Mum that he was sorry.
“You’ll have to tell her yourself,” I said.
“I’m not allowed to, as she has an injunction out barring all communication with her.”
“Then you’ll have to wait. I’ll not be drawn into your squabbles. I’ve made my peace with you, so I’ll tell her that, but, you give me one reason to doubt you again, and you’ll lose me too,” I said. He smiled sadly.
I tried to get back into the swing of work again, but found it very hard. Steve managed an assignment with minimal help from me, and passed. It did his confidence no end of good.
I had to do a round of chat shows and events arranged by the studio, and Penny. I was being pressed to produce more songs, but I had no time to even think about that.
I reached the point when I wanted to stop the world and get off. Steve found me sitting in my old bedroom, in the dark, just staring at the wall.
“Hey Deedee. What’s up?”
Deedee was his new name for me. I objected to Babe, but this sort of stuck.
“Why can’t I just be me?”
He sat next to me, putting his arm around me.
“You are you. And you’re brilliant.”
“I don’t want to be brilliant. I just want to be left alone to live my life. France was fun and exciting, but now I just want to be an ordinary girl.”
He held me for a while, but I just wanted to cry. Everywhere I went, photographers were lurking and autograph hunters constantly ambushed me as I walked about the town. My picture was in most of the tabloids at least two or three times a week, so if I was seen talking to another boy, rumours about affairs were started.
I suspected that David Granger hired them, but it came to the point that I could never dress in really scruffy jeans and tee shirts, as I now had a title of “The Most Glamorous Student”.
It was a huge relief when we had the Premier of the Movie in the West End, so after that, life settled down slightly.
I took my mother to the Premier, with Steve, of course. Prince Charles attended and was utterly charming. He asked me about the next movie and my singing. The British critics were less enthusiastic about the movie, but my personal performance was generally well received and as the US box office was still doing very well, I had high hopes that it would do well here.
Record sales doubled after the movie went on general release, so my third single managed to get to number three.
Life settled down as the Christmas break approached, and I even managed to write a couple of songs and complete my required assignments for my course work. Steve was playing rugby for the university, so I would always try to watch the matches. It made me smile, as a boy, I had loathed the game with a passion, but now I became the team’s number one fan, going with them wherever they went. I was adopted as their mascot, and was always invited to the team baths after the matches. I declined, reluctantly.
Mum sold the house in Wallingford and bought a flat in Chelsea. I was quite sad in a way, as I had many fond memories of the house and my childhood. I had never been an unhappy child, as it was only as I entered my late teens that I began to experience conflicts in emotions and pulls on my life. My father had been indifferent to my thoughts, opinions and desires, preferring instead that I follow his lead and desires for my life. Without that present, there was almost a hole in my life. Not that I was complaining, as I more than made up for it with positive relationships with people that I chose to be with.
Steve was so good for me, as we would lie awake for hours in bed, just talking through things that I had never dared speak about, including some that I had buried deep in my subconscious and had not even thought about. It was a relief to me to learn that I was not the only one suffering disquiet over who and what I had been.
Steve had experience a dreadful conflict of emotions when he first discovered that I was not a girl, as he still had feelings towards me, despite knowing that I was Don. He admitted to feeling torn and his self-doubt caused him to party to excess. He would often get so far with a girl, and then he would start to believe that he was gay, and he could not go any further.
He now openly admitted that he was completely besotted with me, and that was the only reason we had been friends. We started out with absolutely nothing in common, so he would drink to drown his frustration. He admitted he would fantasise about me dressed as a girl, and that day in France, he admitted to have been so excited, he was shaking.
“So, do you still fancy lady-boys?” I teased.
“Nope. I’ve swung back, and as I told you, I’m a one lady man, and that lady is you,” he said, touching me where he knew I liked to be touched.
Our sex life had changed to something deeper and very caring. In fact, as I told Jenny, we didn’t have sex any more, we made love. Steve had straightened out as far as the drinking was concerned, and we would socialise together most of the time. The only exception was with his rugby mates, and only once did I banish him to the small bedroom because of his condition.
I had lunch every Monday with my father, when he would tell me how my finances were doing. To be honest, I wasn’t that bothered, but I felt it was important to build bridges in our relationship. He felt useful, so I pretended to be interested as he gave me printouts and balance sheets. Bottom line, he told me, that as long as I was careful, I need never work another day in my life. It was irrelevant to me, as I fully intended to live my life to the full, making full use of whatever gifts with which I had been blessed.
Steve invited me to spend Christmas with his mother and stepfather, but I had promised my mum that I would spend it with her. My father flew to America, to have a meeting with the studio’s financial people, and was well on the way to getting himself together again. He had not had a drink since that evening I had found him in the hotel, so I believed that he was beginning to become the father that I had never had.
He was supportive, without being crawly, as he would criticise, but positively and helpfully. He actually had a very good idea about how women should look, so I found his more mature experience a real asset when called to meetings with music producers and film people. He finally met with Penny, just before Christmas, and they got on so well, that she joined him on the trip to the USA.
Mum and I had the first Christmas together as mother and daughter. We had a quiet day, which was lovely. My life had been so hectic that the last thing I wanted was to be social.
I kept my mother informed of Dad’s activities, and although I told him I wouldn’t, I passed on the feelings he had expressed to me. Mum smiled and nodded sadly.
“Bit late for that now, isn’t it?” she said. I agreed.
Mum was only forty-two, but was still a very attractive woman. But she kept herself away and didn’t try to get out much. It made me realise the depth of hurt that he had caused her, so I vowed to help her close the page on the past and to look forward again.
I booked a surprise two weeks’ holiday to Trinidad for the pair of us, so on the 27th December we flew out. Steve was really jealous, but knew that this was an important thing for me to do.
Comments
Eerie
"You’re very like me, you know?" he said.
I looked so hard at him that he reddened and looked away.
"Do not ever say that again," I said.
I had a similar confrontation with a relative. It went a little differently both in fact and spirit, but... the general attitude was the same. I think more than anything else, these three lines are what finally made me 'connect' with the character of Donna.
Thank you Tanya for yet
Thank you Tanya for yet another well wrought story.
Just the right amount of pathos and steel in this last chapter.
Don is so well described that we can only feel joy at his/her transformation.
Thanks again
Best wishes
Anna
Anna
This lovely story
This is a lovely story. I love this line: "France was fun and exciting, but now I just want to be an ordinary girl.†I also want to complement you on your title illustration, it..rather she is absolutely gorgeous.
Love, Andrea Lena
As usual
gripping stuff, of which Tanya stories are made.
In my opinion, this is one of your best.
Susie
Tanya, just wanted to tell you
how much i enjoy this story! i recently read your other stories Fortune's Soldier witch l love by the way. l am curently reading Twisted Dreams witch i think is good also. l just wanted to say thank you for all the great stories that you giving to us. i cant wait for the next chapter to this tale!
Well I am continuing to
Well I am continuing to enjoy this story! But, everything of yours I have read I have enjoyed so no surprise!!!
I just keep waiting for something bad to happen!!
I guess it is part of being a trans-woman we always have in the back of our minds that someone is going to jump and down and yell she's a guy!! Even though I am post-op and 11 years post-transition I wonder at times have I left my past behind!!
Thanks,
Pamela
I know this is long after
I know this is long after posting, but I love your stories so much. Your characters become real people.
Hugs,
Karen
PS: I hope you don't mean Trinidad, Colorado !