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I think she sensed that her news made me unhappy as she continued chirpily. "So, what's been going on over the last two years with you? I followed the reports of the tribunal in the newspapers. It looked fairly unpleasant. I'm really sorry I didn't come and support you then, but Dad set an ultimatum, I could support you or I could support him. I had to choose not to support you for Mum's sake.

"One of the reports said you had been taking hormones; was that true? Isn't that the first step to...um?"

"...to going all the way?" I helped out.

Confused Ramblings of a Gardener

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Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Monday 01-30-2005 at 12:14:19 pm, this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. This story was recommended by pab200.
~Sephrena
 

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Chapter 1 - History

Julia put her pen down, leaned back in the kitchen chair and stretched her arms out. This exercise complete, she leaned forward once again, neatly folded the completed letter and slid it into an envelope with her completed job application and photos of her work. With a sigh, she addressed the envelope and put it on the side ready to post. A waste of time maybe, but Julia knew that she had to be honest.

Archie made his weekly rounds of the house's gardens with Jim the gardener. All trim and well weeded, but as with any mature garden, it could no longer look as fresh as it had done when his father had these gardens laid 30 years ago. It needed to be taken in hand by someone who had imagination and an understanding of how nature enhanced and man's input detracted. He thought of those displays at Chelsea this year and shuddered at the number that contained large amounts of steel and concrete.

Julia went around her bed-sit checking the house plants, the only gardening opportunity currently open to her. All were well, even Spiro the Spider plant who she had found abandoned and terribly wilted when she moved in. She sat back in the chair she'd salvaged from a skip and tried to relax. The tribunal, though eventually in her favour, had taken so much out of her.

Archie looked at the pile of posts. Methodically he sorted the windowed envelopes and filed the advertising matter in the bin. He looked at the remaining letters, knowing most would be more applications for the head gardener's job. One caught his eye, being much thicker than the others. Opening it, he found the expected application form together with a letter of explanation.

The Letter

 

Dear Sir,

I am applying for the post of head gardener at your home. I have experience of municipal parks, contract and exhibition work. My references for this work are appended to the application. I have taken the liberty of including some photographs of my last exhibition entries.

Although trained and experienced as a garden designer, I would like to take on the additional challenge of a full time role in garden management, and so be allowed to live with the designs I create.

I must explain that since completing the jobs listed, I changed my name. This may cause problems with references. If you choose to follow up on my references, please use the name Michael Brown.

Best regards

Julia Brown

 

Archie sat back in his chair. He had noted the change of gender in the names. He sighed, screwed up the letter and application and tossed them into the wicker wastebasket under his desk. About to turn to the next application, he paused. There was something familiar about the name. He needed to remember.

Julia remembered the day that, as a boy, he had sought respite from the constant bullying at school by hiding in his parent's bedroom. After an hour, boredom caused Michael to start investigating the contents of his mother's drawers. He found things he had only previously seen on the washing line: Stockings, panties, bras and petticoats. She still remembered with a guilty feeling, slipping off his school uniform and with trembling fingers slipping the stockings up his legs, fastening the bra around his back and sliding the long slip over his head. Some items, like the suspender belt, required some experimentation until their use became clear. Each item of clothing made him want to put on more. Suddenly he realised he was fully dressed in his mother's clothes. He guiltily looked in the mirror. Apart from his short hair, he looked like a young woman. He relaxed. It felt right, as if a missing cog had been put in a machine and now the machine ran smoothly. Although he knew his parents would be upset if they found out, he had resolved to do this again.

Archie went to his library, passing his shelves of first edition gardening reference books, copies of his own scientific reference works and the family archives and on to the area where periodicals were stored in magazine boxes. He selected the boxes that contained gardening magazines from eighteen months ago up until the last six months. Sitting down at the large library table, he started to look through the back copies. He knew the news article had been at least a year ago.

Her bank statement was still in the black but not for much longer. The compensation money, had all been spent. For the thousandth time, Julia wondered if she had done the right thing.

Archie found the article he was looking for. The headline read 'Fired cross-dressing gardener wrongly dismissed'. He sat back to read the article he had ignored at its publication date.

The news reports of the tribunal had all been sensationalised, especially the tabloids. Only the specialist magazines had made any mention of her prize winning work and treated the situation as an example of poor staff management and badly implemented employment law. After the output of the popular press, she had become too hot to handle, or at least, too hot to employ. She had even tried to get an agent to milk the publicity, but all had laughed at her.

No job, time on her hands, and money to burn; Life should have been good for Julia. However, the visits to her counsellor were depressing. The counsellor had disqualified her transition time at her last job as the required uniform of dungarees and wellies, was not deemed feminine enough. What could she do?

Julia looked at herself in the mirror. Her body was trim, with good muscle tone. She was so glad that she hadn't bulked up like so many of her colleagues.

She had enjoyed the job, got on well with the gardeners who worked for her. The problems started when her hormone-enhanced breasts began to show. Then the jokes started. The longer the jokes went on, the meaner they became, until even those making them could have called them nothing better than taunts. She had complained to the garden management, but to no avail. After she went to personnel to get her name changed, she was given her P45 - in her old name. 'Disruptive influence on the work force.' the dismissal letter had said.

It wasn't a beautiful body, the rigours of her profession prevented that, but it was now unmistakably female. The scars were either healed or hidden.

She had decided the counsellor was not on her side. He had been giving her a hard time recently. He never put her problems in a positive light, always seeming to take the attitude that he could 'cure' her.

Archie put the magazine down, took off his glasses, checked his pockets for a handkerchief and then polished the lenses with his shirttail. He now remembered with pleasure the garden at Chelsea that had been created by Michael Brown. He returned to his office and getting down on his knees, he retrieved the discarded application from his waste bin and attempted to smooth out the creases he had put into it a few hours earlier.

Julia had spent several hours using her local library's internet connection, trying to research the employment issues. There were plenty of web sites for lawyers who would sue anyone for anything if they could get a (large) percentage of any compensation due. However, none of the employment specialists mentioned any sexual discrimination issues that matched her problems. A search for transsexual sites was disappointing, not from the number found, but the propensity to contain sexually explicit photographs. The library's implementation of site screening software caused a loud beep to emanate the each time she went to one of these specific sites. Eyebrows were raised by the assistant librarian watching over the computers. Soon Julia went through the indignity of being asked to leave.

Michael's dressing continued, usually in the small hours when his parents and older sister, Clare, were asleep. He had thanked God so many times that the women's main wardrobe was located on the open landing at the top of the stairs and not in the bedrooms and was accessible for investigation during his nocturnal wanderings.

A different library and a more specific search (along with the surreptitiously removed speaker connection) found some sympathetic web sites and things called chat rooms, but the library's software wouldn't allow those to be accessed. She went looking for a more liberal attitude and found it at a trendy internet cafe. The waiter (for some reason called a server) showed Julia how to access the chat rooms and gave her a small card with lots of strange abbreviations and what they meant. She soon became engrossed in the chat room culture, learning about strange aspects of Dominant and Submissive (definitely not her thing), of role play (interesting, but just playing at what she was trying to do for real) and above all making friends who were all sympathetic, but unable to offer advice.

 

Julia still remembered the day she was caught, not red handed but the circumstantial evidence was irrefutable. Michael had put his sister's hair rollers into his, now longer, hair and was wondering around the ground floor of their house at 1:30 in the morning. To his horror, he heard a key turn in the front door. He had scampered into the toilet and listened as his sister returned from a late night party. He had removed the rollers, tied them into the headscarf that had been covering them, and then hidden them behind the toilet cistern. As casually as his loud beating heart would allow, he bid his sister good night and lay in bed waiting for the house to be quiet, so he could retrieve the rollers. The next thing he was aware of was the room was lit by the sun and there was a noisy argument between father and sister. Michael had gone into the kitchen to hear what was being said. The first things he noticed were the hair curlers spread over the table. Clare was fighting a rear guard action on two fronts, firstly for being out so late, and secondly for leaving her rollers in the toilet. She looked at Michael as he came in and he saw in her eyes that she had identified an escape route. "It must have been Michael who had taken my rollers into the toilet. He was in there last night when I got home." Michael considered denying it, but he was not an accomplished liar, so just refused to talk about it at all. For the rest of the weekend, the house had a very strained atmosphere.

MakeMeAGirl was his chat room nickname. He (Julia assumed it was a he) opened a private chat with her one day after she had been talking about her dismisal woes in the open forum. He claimed to be a lawyer specialising in employment issues, admitting that he wanted his firm to take on a specific transgender case prior to making his own appearance from the closet. They arranged to meet up at a cafe. Julia had read lots of horror stories about real life meetings between chat room attendees, but after all that had been the whole point in going to the chat rooms in the first place.

Archie had never met a transvestite before. His sheltered upbringing never had cause to equip him for such encounters. In fact, the only things he could think of were the plays at his all boys' school where some unfortunate got picked to play the girls part and had to endure a term or more of abuse from their peers; and some camp entertainers on television. He had no idea what to expect and prepared for the worst.

Sitting at his desk, he picked up the gold nibbed fountain pen and wrote the invitation to an interview.

Jim had now worked for three generations of Archie's family. He had done most of the spadework for Archie's father the last time the grounds were remodelled. Now Jim spent his time keeping everything tidy and the gardens were immaculate. Jim didn't like change; the garden looked as good now as it had thirty years ago, yet he sensed a restlessness in his employer as they did the weekly inspection of the grounds. Change! Why couldn't people leave things alone, always fiddling, never accepting the status quo? There had even been that stupid garden designer who thought he could change sex, the plonker.

The lawyer turned out to be very good, and even took the case on a pro bono basis. His skill combined with Julia's careful notes of meetings with the garden's human resources department plus her old employer's inability to stick to the procedures laid down by employment law had left the tribunal board with no choice but to find in favour of Julia. The judge had all but thrown the book at them, and awarding a five figure sum in compensation.

The holiday in Brazil had seemed like a good idea at the time. An operation (or two) followed by a couple of weeks on the beach to recover. Julia's new passport had her new name and the gender indicator, could never be changed, regardless of how many operations she had.

The money for the operation was no longer a problem and she had been told that the transgender testing was less rigorous than at home.

When the holiday was over, she returned to the UK minus most of her compensation money, his balls, penis and Adam's apple, but with a remodelled chin and augmented breasts.

The worst day of her life, had been the day that she had told her parents of her wish to be a proper woman. They had not taken it well. Her father had physically thrown her out of the house and told her never to return. She later heard though her sister that they had told their friends that Michael had died. It must have been doubly embarrassing for them when his photo was in the paper due to the tribunal.

Her counsellor was not impressed when the all-new Julia returned from her holiday. Furious would be a better adjective. He recited the UK's legal requirements, the continued care she required after the operation and finally in a vindictive move, told her that as she had gone behind his back, he would not prescribe the drugs she still and would always require on his nation's national health service.

Julia held the last fifty pounds she owned in the world and tried to decide whether to spend it on food or a black market supply of the hormones she required. Her request for a new counsellor was held up somewhere, she suspected it was waiting on the desk of the previous one. What would she become when the food, the drugs or both ran out?

The envelope fell onto her doormat like manna from heaven.

Chapter 2 - Julia.

I stood up, dripping water on the floor, still shivering after someone in another bed-sit had turned on a tap causing a jet of cold water to shoot out of the shower attachment that I had pushed over the taps. I dressed carefully. I had to make a good impression, but my clothes had to be sufficiently practical that should an impromptu visit around the grounds occur, I wouldn't be leaving a trail of stiletto holes and torn silk. I ended up with a navy blue, cashmere, roll neck sweater finished with an agate brooch, knee length tweed skirt, and black woollen tights. My long blonde hair, brushed back into a ponytail, leaving the fringe covering my forehead. I had discarded the string of pearls as being a bit too Sloan Ranger like. My trusty Wellingtons and wax jacket would be in the boot of the car.

The directions to Wagstaff House were straightforward. Leaving the M4 motorway and heading north towards Stroud I noticed the change of scenery as I approached the steeper side of the Cotswold escarpment. Falling leaves covered the road. A gap in the high bank that bordered the road would have been easy to miss if the directions hadn't warned me of its presence. I stopped the car, got out and opened the gate, drove through, stopped and closed the gate behind me. The narrow lane opened up into a wide driveway, which led up to the large house. I parked next to a Land Rover Discovery.

After checking my face in the car's rear view mirror and touching up my make up, I got out and nervously walked to the flight of steps leading up to the front door. Next to the original brass bell pull was a small electronic push button. I pressed it and waited.

The door opened and a slightly portly man looked out of a ruddy countenance. "Hello can I help you?" he said with a slightly confused tone to his voice.

"Hello, I'm Julia Brown I have an appointment with Mr Archibald Wagstaff." I introduced myself and noticed the other became somewhat flustered.

"Oh, I see, I, ah, was expecting some. Excuse me. Please come in, follow me." He seemed to have regained control of himself, and was striding away across the vast entrance hall to the staircase. "My office is on the first floor. I'd like to conduct the interview there if you don't mind." He called behind him.

The staircase finished at a gallery that surrounded the entrance hall. My host or hopefully future employer marched down one of the corridors that left the gallery and turned through an open doorway. I rushed along, trying to keep up with him, frightened that I might get lost in what looked like a maze of corridors and rooms.

When I entered the room that was his office, he was seated at a large mahogany desk facing me. Indicating a chair on my side of the desk, he said, "Please, take a seat".

"I'm so sorry about downstairs... I was expecting, Sorry, I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Archie Wagstaff, Doctor of Palaeontology by training, minor baronet by breeding and dedicated to keeping this pile in one piece until the tax man gets it when I die.

"Now, am I right to assume that it was you who created the riverside willow garden at Chelsea the year before last?"

"Yes that was mine. I got a silver rosette" I replied, aware that he hadn't taken his eyes off me since he had started talking. I returned his gaze, almost staring at him. He finally averted his eyes and looked at the ceiling as he continued.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Now, the situation here is that my previous head gardener, Marcus, got poached by a TV company to work as an advisor on a series for them and has decided he likes the high life and has moved to London. Previously the job was mainly about keeping on top of the grounds in general and the flowerbeds in particular. However, the new appointee will have some additional tasks, as I want to redevelop some parts of the gardens. So, I'm looking for someone with vision and an understanding of the beauty of nature.

I smiled. Just the sort of opportunity I was looking for. "Yes my lord. As you have seen from my resume," I saw the creased document in the folder open in front of him, "I have a broad experience of garden design, encompassing the formal municipal gardens in Brighton, numerous private and corporate designs and of course the exhibition garden you have already mentioned. In all these cases, I have produced the design, managed the project and when I have had time, assisted in the execution of the design. In my last employment I was managing a crew of six gardeners."

"Please don't call me 'My Lord'; I prefer the title I earned. Now tell me about the inspirations that lead you to design the Chelsea garden?"

I opened my portfolio and spread the original plans and photographs of the prize-winning garden across his table, spoke of the sponsor's requirements, and how I had come to produce the final design. I then spoke of the technical problems of producing a slow flowing river in essentially a dry playing field. I could tell I had captured his interest as he leaned close over the drawings, asking the right technical questions. I finished off what was essentially a presentation by saying how it had broken my heart when the display had been stripped of its plants and then ripped up by a digger to reinstate the park to its former blandness.

I was so happy with the way the interview was going, just please don't let him ask... personal questions! But as he sat back down I could see the bluster return that he had shown when I first introduced myself and his eyes were looking me all over; I had heard of men mentally undressing women, but I suspected he was trying to visualise things in a way that women don't normally have to worry about. I sighed aloud, considering that the job probably wasn't mine after all and that he had just got a free ticket to the freak show.

"You may as well ask what you want to ask directly. It'll save time." I said sharply as I carefully put all the paperwork back into the portfolio.

"I'm sorry, was I that obvious? It's just that I can't believe that you were ever a man."

"Yes I was born with the body of a man, but now thanks to modern medicine, I'm what you see here. Tell me, what do you see?"

"Ah. I see a self assured young woman."

"So treat me like a 'self assured young woman', because that's what I must be."

"You're right. I'll do that," He smiled for the first time. "and I'm pleased to say that I would be happy for you to take the job. We can discuss the terms after you have seen the grounds."

I was stunned. I had gone from the brink of disaster, but won through. I had a job!

Chapter 3 - Archie

I picked up the key for the Discovery as I showed Julia out of my office. I was now sure I had made the right decision about getting her over for the interview.

When she described the techniques she had used to build the Chelsea garden, I was disappointed, there was almost as much concrete and steel as in the hated modern designs. But as she explained, it is for a month long exhibition and it isn't practical to divert water courses or move mountains, especially as there are neither water courses nor mountains in the Chelsea Park! The point she got across to me was that, it was the look that must be natural, how that was achieved was another matter that depended upon time, resource and commitment.

I hadn't expected to offer her the job, but I think she will make a go of it if she accepts. Of course, she hasn't seen the estate yet... or met Jim, so it wasn't a sure thing that she would accept the job.

I still felt embarrassed about the way I greeted her, to think that I had been expecting a butch woman, 6 feet something with a 5 o'clock shadow. Instead, well I had called her a 'self assured young woman' when she prompted me. I had omitted another adjective that would have been appropriate - Beautiful.

I let her lead the way, and was able to watch her, the dainty steps she took, the way her hips gyrated, her hands crossed behind her back making her shoulders go back. I could imagine the way her small breasts pushed out in front of her. I still don't believe she was ever a man.

Reaching the front door, I held it open for her and sharply inhaled to take in some of that perfume she was wearing.

"Thank you" She said, giving me a smile. I realised that she must have been quite tense during the interview, but now I could see she was relaxing. "I'll just get my jacket and boots from the car".

I watched her change her shoes seated on the tailgate of the old estate car she had arrived in, watching the way she pointed her toes prior to putting them into her boots. Then I watched the way she almost twirled her coat around and thrust her arms into its sleeves whilst it was in mid air. She stamped her feet, slammed the boot lid down and looked expectantly at me, smiling.

"Shall we do the formal gardens at the back of the house first?" I asked.

"That would be nice."

I lead the way around the side of the house to the flowerbeds that could be seen from all the rooms facing southwest. They were formed in quadrants around the raised flowerbed with a statue in the middle of it.

"It's very traditional. Those roses are a bit on the mature side; we should take those out and replace them with young stock. It's a shame about the fountain."

"What fountain" I replied.

"The raised bed is a Victorian pond. The statue in the middle would originally have had water spraying from the raised arm." She climbed onto the bed and felt the hand of the sculpted lead figure. "Yes I can feel the end of the tube, still there."

"Well I never! I didn't realise that was what it was." I stood back and for the first time in my life saw the bed for what it really was. I tried to imagine water coming from the statue, cascading down. "Do you think it could be restored back to its original function?"

"I don't see why not. It depends on the condition of the pond, whether it will hold water or not. They often filled them in as repairing a cracked base was very difficult in older times. I would assume the pump is either gone or no longer serviceable. But a modern replacement would be quite simple to install."

As we looked around, she made more comments on the planting, with subtle improvements here and there, also paying compliments on the way the beds had been maintained. Wandering from plant to plant, reciting their Latin names and lovingly turning the blooms in her hands to look at them. I could see how happy it made her.

"Would you like to see my other water feature now?" I asked her, leading to the gap in the tall box hedge behind which the lake was hidden.

"This is how a water feature should be built. Two hundred years ago, this was dug out, all by shovel and wheelbarrow. The spoil now forms the hill behind it and yes, a stream was diverted to fill it. That caused a lot of upset with the estate tenants. It was their water supply!

"The lake was stocked with trout for my ancestors fishing pleasure, though that's not my thing."

We walked side by side along the path that leads around the lake. She pointed up at the trees that had been planted on the artificial hill with its rustic look out point.

"Something needs to be done about those trees. Some of them look quite dangerous and young ones should be planted ready so gaps aren't left when the older ones die or need to be taken down".

I carried on explaining the scope of her job as we walked back to the house. "There are two-hundred acres to the estate in all. Seventy-five percent of that is arable farmland worked by a tenant farmer. He has fifteen years on his lease at the moment, so we can't touch that. Of the remainder, the land the house stands on and its immediate grounds are about thirty acres. The rest is woodland.

"You will need to ensure the woodland is coppiced regularly and that the grounds are kept to my liking. You will have one member of staff reporting to you. His name is Jim and he's been working here forever! We will meet him later on."

I suddenly had the desire to extend this meeting with the young lady. Feeling the car key in my pocket, I said. We'll take the Discovery and I can show you the woodland.

I held open the passenger door of the all terrain vehicle and watched as she nimbly hoisted herself in.

As I drove we carried on talking.

"What plant do you have available?" was her first question.

"There is a tractor with a variety of implements, it can tow a big lawnmower and there is a tilting trailer. There are numerous small machines, such as trimmers and chain saws. Behind the woods are some buildings where all that is stored. If there is anything special needed, there is a local company that leases equipment by the day, with or without an operator."

"Do you sell the timber from the woodland?"

"Er, no, it is just left to grow and die in peace."

So it went on. I enjoyed listening to her high voice, and the obvious intellect that was behind the questions. We went to the small depot where all the equipment was stored and she asked questions about its maintenance. We then looked at the staff accommodation buildings.

"This is lovely." She said, looking through the window of the house that would be hers for the duration of her employment. I had tried the door but found it locked and didn't have the right key ring with me.

"My father saw sense. When the staff numbers dropped and people were less enthused for a 'life in service' as it used to be called, he knocked several of the, well, I would have called them hovels, into larger buildings and put in central heating and modern kitchens and bathrooms.

"Do you have your own furniture?"

"Not really. My current flat came semi-furnished and I never had the money to extend what was there."

"Marcus had his own things and cleared out everything when he left. I'm sure we can find enough discarded furniture in the store rooms of the main house to sort you out, though I would recommend you get your own mattress.

"There are just the three staff positions now: Head gardener, Jim and my house keeper, Mrs Billings."

We discussed salaries and her eyes opened wide when I mentioned the figure that Marcus had been earning. Obviously, councils and landscaping companies don't pay as much as I thought. That just left introducing her to Jim and I knew where he would be at this time of day. Another trip in the Discovery was required.

Chapter 4 - Jim.

I had just finished my first pint of Wickwar Brewery's Best Bitter when his Lordship came into the pub. Trailing him in was this girl, well young woman.

"Hello Jim, I thought I would find you here."

"Aye, it's my lunch break Dr Wagstaff."

"Have another pint then Jim? " He waved for the landlord's attention and quickly got the drinks in for the three of us, paying with a crisp new twenty pound note.

"I'd like to introduce you to Julia Brown. I'm offering her the post of head gardener. She has yet to accept."

I had known that I couldn't get the job, with only a few years left till I retire and hadn't even applied for it. But, I didn't think he would have been daft enough to give the job to a woman.

I looked her up and down, not a lot of muscle on her. Be interesting to see her after a day with a hoe in her hands!

"Julia has a lot of experience of garden design, even getting some awards" He was smiling at the woman in a very possessive way.

"Oh aye, what was that then?" I looked at her again.

"I won a silver rosette at Chelsea two years ago." Posh London accent she had.

"Oh. Very impressive dear, so what made you leave the city and come traipsing down 'ere then?"

"Well, I sort of needed a job after my previous employer and I had a difference of opinion."

So, she was fired. Not often you hear of an award winning gardener getting the boot. Last one I heard of, they got shot of him when he came to work dressed in women's underwear.

"So the boss must like your work. Took 'im a long time to recruit Marcus a few years ago, but he found you in double quick time."

"I'm flattered. Between you and me, I was getting a bit desperate.

"I'm very impressed with the work you've put into the gardens. Everything seems to have been maintained beautifully."

"Thank ye ma'am. So do you think you'll be makin' lots of changes?"

"Dr Wagstaff has indicated that it will be part of my brief to review and update the gardens and there are some areas which are approaching the need for a higher level of maintenance."

So, she wants to change everything. I drained my glass, and decided that it was time for me to head back to the weeding of the hollyhocks.

"Good bye Doctor. I hope you'll take the job miss. I'll look forward to it." I decided that sometimes it was better to lie through your teeth, as I walked out the door to retrieve my bicycle.

Chapter 5 - Julia

I had accepted the job as soon as Jim had left the pub.

Dr Wagstaff asked me to join him for a meal and I enjoyed the Steak and Ale pie with new potatoes and fresh vegetables that the pub served.

With neither the previous incumbent nor me needing to serve notice, we agreed that I should start as soon as I could move down. I did have a big problem though.

"This is a bit embarrassing Dr Wagstaff, but I wonder if it would be possible to have an advance on my salary. I'm a little overdrawn at the bank and could only just afford the petrol to get here."

"Really, I thought you had received a large compensation claim?"

A bit insensitive!

"I've had a lot of expenses since then." I nearly shouted for him to mind his own business, but just caught myself in time.

"Oh, do you mean the operation? I was under the impression that you could get that done on the national health."

Gone too far!

"Dr Wagstaff. That is very personal. What I did with the compensation is my business. Anything to do with my heath and wellbeing is also my business, unless it is covered by the health and safety act. Do I make it clear that these areas are not topics for conversation?"

He had the grace to blush. "I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. Of course you may have the advance and the trip for the interview is a valid expense." He took out his wallet and passed me five, twenty-pound notes. "Any other expenses involved with moving down will also be covered."

I took the money and tucked it into my handbag. I would have liked to have thrown it in his face, but that would have required me to walk back to London. I got to my feet. "Can we go back to the house now please. I have a long drive ahead of me and I would like to get started soon."

"Of course, my dear." He swigged back the rest of his drink and got to his feet.

The drive back to the big house was in silence. I was angry, upset, but determined not to cry. I think he was aware of my feelings as when he had parked up he turned to me and spoke again.

"I'm very sorry. I seem to have a way of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, always have done. I know this is a taboo topic, but I think I need to explain myself.

"I just can't even start to imagine what you have gone through, what has driven you to fight against all the odds in your life, your work. I don't know where I stand. You asked me to treat you like a woman, and I'll try to honour that, but it's very hard when there are so many questions I want to ask, but can't. When I was interviewing you, you suggested I should ask the questions directly to save time. I wish I had done so then, but I now suspect you were frustrated with me when you made that offer. I would very much appreciate if you could think about explaining your situation to me. I just want to understand. Maybe I could even help you in some small way?" He was almost pleading when he finished.

I couldn't look at him. I just got out of his car, climbed into my own and drove off.

Just before the motorway junction there is a lay by. I had managed to get there and park my car, when the floodgates opened. I just sobbed and sobbed, more than at any other time during my transition, even after my father had thrown me out.

My emotions had been initially set up with anger at his forthright comments. But, when he had tried to find out more about me, his voice had conveyed that he cared. Other than the professional counsellor for whom my regard was very low, no one had ever tried to ask why I was what I was.

Eventually I was able to regain my composure and redo my smudged make up. The two and half hours it took to drive back to London seemed to last forever.

Parked outside my flat was a small van. As I started to unlock my front door, an acne-covered youth got out and approached me. I started to panic until I saw in his hand a single red rose wrapped in cellophane.

"We had a special phone order to deliver this in person. The geezer said not to try and pass off any rubbish as you were an expert. There's a note to go with it."

He handed me the bloom and an envelope. I looked at the rose, just opened from bud, and in perfect condition, the dark red colour consistent on all the petals. I guessed whom it was from.

"Thank you. That is beautiful" was all I could manage before stumbling through my door and a fresh bought of crying.

I read his note through my tears. In it, he repeated that he was sorry, he didn't mean any harm, that the job was still there and he hoped I would still take it. That he felt responsible for his staff and if there was anything he could do to help me, I only had to ask.

I got myself ready for bed and pulled the duvet over my crying head. The old soft teddy bear that had always been my comfort absorbed my tears, but the crying went on for as long as I remained awake and who knows may be longer.

He cared. Even if it was only as a member of his staff, he cared. No one had said that to me for a very long time.

The next morning I knew I had to contact him, but didn't feel emotionally strong enough to use the phone to talk to him in person. Instead, I chickened out and wrote a letter, just sticking to the essentials. Thanks for the flower, he shouldn't have bothered. I will still be taking the job, hoped to be there in a couple of days, and finally I would be grateful for any furniture that he could spare for the little house. You know that sort letter. I got it in the first post and hoped it would be received tomorrow morning.

Packing up my life had taken less time than I thought it would. All my clothes fitted into two suitcases. There was a cardboard box of legal stuff and correspondence from the tribunal. Soon the only thing that wouldn't fit in the car was the rescued chair. I was tempted to tie it to the roof, but eventually, in the dead of night I dropped it into an unsecured skip a couple of streets away.

The next morning I packed everything into the car, the plants strapped to the back seat with the seat belts. When all was in, I looked at the car. It was and contained my whole life, all my possessions. The few souvenirs of my childhood that my sister had passed back to me. Everything! I just hoped the rusty thing would make it as far as the next stage of my life.

Chapter 6 - Archie

Over breakfast, I was reviewing the previously rejected job applications, with each one I looked at, I thought how perfect Julia had been for the job and I kicked myself for being an insensitive brute and driving her away.

I had seen the post office van pull up in the drive and the regular postman get out and head for the front door with a small pile of letters. Soon Mrs Billings brought them into the dining room for me.

As I thumbed through the mostly manila envelopes, I saw one that was pink and went straight to it. It had a London postmark, and yes, just a hint of that perfume. I nervously tore the envelope open, hoping for good news, but expecting the worst. I had trouble reading her words, my hands were shaking so much. It was good news! In fact, she could even arrive today.

"Mrs Billings. I want to celebrate. More toast please!" I patted my tummy but for some extraordinary reason I felt guilty about what I felt there. "On second thoughts Mrs Billings, I've had enough today." Why did I do that? I have never worried about my weight before, why now?

"Mrs Billings. We have work to do this morning. What is the situation with Marcus' house? Can Julia move into it today?"

"I checked it when he moved out Dr Wagstaff. It was left clean and tidy. It's got carpets on the floors and curtains at the window and they are all serviceable. It could probably do with the windows being left open to let some air through but there isn't a stick of furniture in there though."

"Right Oh! Let's see what furniture is in the basement and perhaps you could stock the refrigerator and pantry. Just get enough for a couple of days. Yes, we will find the furniture first, and then while you sort out the kitchen, I'll get Jim to move everything over to the cottage."

I lead Mrs Billings to the basement where generations of my family had hoarded stuff rather than dispose of it, where they thought the local riffraff might get their hands on it. As can be imagined with furniture cast off from a country house, a lot of it was of a scale that one piece would have filled the cottage. We found a bed with a mattress that if allowed to air would be OK for a while, a comfortable arm chair, a couple of dining chairs, small table and a little desk.

Jim answered the call to his walkie-talkie and brought the estate's van over so we could transport everything to the cottage.

By lunchtime, I felt the little house was just about ready for its new occupant. Strange, I had never made an effort to welcome any previous member of staff. But, I still felt excited about Julia's imminent arrival. Maybe it was just the thought of getting on with changing the garden, making a mark on the landscape for my generation of Wagstaffs.

I returned to my office, but though I tried to concentrate on fossils for the paper I was writing, my eye kept being drawn to the window and its view of the driveway. It was very annoying, when I had to get the paper to the publishers in a couple of days. Eventually I gave up and screwed the top back on my pen. Then I moved my chair over to the window and just waited.

As the afternoon grew to a close, the autumn sky to the west turned first orange, then gold and finally as the sun dropped below the horizon, an angry red colour. I was just about to give up and head down to the lounge, when I saw car headlights at the bottom end of the drive. They swept over me causing me to blink, stopped for a minute then moved up the driveway to the house.

I rushed down the stairs calling to see if Mrs Billings was still in the house. No luck there she must have left for the day. I got to the front door and was stood at the top of the steps just as the old estate car pulled up outside.

I waited for her to get out of the car, but there was no movement. Eventually the door opened but she still didn't get out. I walk down the stairs and put my head in the door.

"Welcome. I hope you didn't have any trouble getting here." I said, but as soon as I looked at her, I knew something was very wrong. She was as white as a sheet.

"My dear! Let me help you into the house."

She managed to swing her legs from the car and I helped her to a standing position, but she didn't seem to be with it. I stooped and lifted her into my arms and carried her up to the house, surprising myself at how light she was. In the lounge, I settled her onto one of the big chesterfield sofas. She seemed to revive a little, giving me a timid smile.

"I, I seem to have over done it a little, Dr Wagstaff."

"I'll get some tea. Just rest there'"

I headed to the kitchen and boiled the kettle, warming the pot before making the tea. I put everything on a tray and carried it back to the lounge.

"Ah, shall I be mother? Of course I will. How do you like your tea?"

"Milk and one sugar please."

I poured the drink and passed her the cup and saucer.

"Can I do anything else for you?"

She shook her head, concentrating on holding the saucer in one hand while she drank from the cup with the other. I sat nervously on the opposite sofa, waiting.

Eventually she passed the cup back to me, and then the saucer. "I think I need a doctor. Do you know one that you can trust?"

"What's wrong? No! Please, you don't need to answer that. I have learnt from my previous mistake. Old Perkins in the village is OK at normal things, he is also quite discrete." I said thinking of the little embarrassment he had helped my father with and only told me about many years after Papa had passed away.

"I think I should tell you. It might make things easier in the long run.

"Although the surgery has left me looking anatomically like a woman, I can't manufacture my own estrogen, that's a female hormone. Neither can I make male hormones now I don't, don't have any male equipment. I have to take pills to keep everything in balance. I ran out of them yesterday."

"I'm sure Perkins will fill in a prescription. I'll get him to come out." I said as I reached for the phone.

"You trust him?"

"Yes. Are you worried about village gossip?" She nodded.

"I feel so stupid, not having any, but it's not easy for me to get them anymore."

"Why not; it's something you need isn't it?"

"I used to get the prescriptions from a counsellor, a trained psychiatrist, but we, ah, had a disagreement over my surgery and he refused to sign any more. I'm trying to get another counsellor, but that isn't easy. I've been buying them privately, when I've had the money."

I picked up the phone and dialled the doctor's home number from memory. "Perkins? It's Wagstaff here. I'd like you to come out to the house please. One of my staff is ill and she needs a prescription."

"Mrs Billings? She's never ill." The doctor replied.

"No this is my new head gardener; she's not on your list yet. I'd be very grateful if you could come out straight away. To the main house please."

"OK. I'll be about 20 minutes."

"Many thanks. Stop afterwards and have a drink?" I dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

As good as his word the local doctor rang the bell a quarter of an hour later. I opened the door for him.

"Good evening Dr Wagstaff. Where's my patient?"

"Hello, Dr Perkins, she's in the lounge. I was a bit worried, I think she nearly passed out in her car as she got here." I showed him into the room. "I'll leave you in private. Shout when you're leaving, I'll be in the drawing room over there."

It was about half an hour later when the doctor came in. I got out a bottle of the Glenlivet whiskey I know he's partial to.

He settled himself into the armchair opposite my favourite chair ready for a chat.

"You know I can't say anything to you about Julia's problems, don't you? I have to go by the rules of doctor, patient confidentiality and all that."

I nodded.

"I will say that I have written out a prescription, but I think it might be better if I collected the drugs myself. I wouldn't want any misplaced gossip from the pharmacist as to what you're doing with such things."

"Ah, quite so!" I hastily replied.

"She's sleeping now. It's best to leave her where she is, but keep her warm. I'll drop the pills in tomorrow."

The doctor finished his drink, picked up his bag and left.

I went back through to the lounge and looked at Julia, peacefully sleeping on the sofa. I fetched a blanket from my bed and draped it over her gently sleeping form.

I've never been left responsible for anyone before let alone someone who was sick and I didn't know what to do. I chose to sit on the other sofa and watch, just in case she had a relapse or something. I found myself looking at her long fair hair cascading over the cushion, the soft clear skin of her face and her small hand clutching the blanket tightly to her cheek. It just wasn't possible to believe her past history.

Chapter 7 - Julia.

I had felt completely shattered on the drive west. On more than one occasion, I was suddenly aware of having drifted onto the hard shoulder that borders the motorway. Coffee stops at the services didn't seem to help either. I just pressed on until I arrived at Wagstaff House.

Dr Perkins is a lovely man. He did get a surprise when he was taking my case notes, but made no comment other than was necessary professionally. He gave me something to help me sleep and promised to get some tablets for me, but made me promise to see him in a couple of days.

When I awoke, I felt the heavy blanket covering me. It had a manly smell to it that had reminded me first of my own bedding from years before, but then it seemed to trigger a different reaction; calming, caring and comforting. I inhaled deeply and came around some more, to the point where I could open my eyes.

In the sofa opposite me was my employer, sitting up, with his eyes closed, head tilted back and a deep rumbling emanating from his drooping jaw.

I looked at him thinking, this is the man who cares, who called a doctor for me, and put me to bed; my Good Samaritan.

Then I had a worrying thought, I looked under the blanket and was relieved to confirm that I was still fully dressed.

From the weak light coming from behind the curtains, I guessed it must be very early. I pushed the blanket off and went to look for the toilet.

Looking for a toilet is not an easy task in a mansion that is several hundred years old. They didn't seem to go in for putting conveniences in convenient places. Eventually I found one that seemed like miles away near the kitchen and got my self sorted out. A little bit of repair work on my face was required; I would do a proper job on it later on.

On the way back I stopped off in the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea. I'm not sure how much experience the doctor has of a tea pot, but what he had produced last night was pretty insipid.

I looked at my watch and found it was five am; about my normal getting up time when I was working. I was frustrated! I wanted to get on with something, but my house would be locked, so I couldn't move in. It wouldn't be politic to start doing something in the garden on my first day without proper introductions and in any case Doc Perkins had told me to take it easy until my hormone levels were sorted out.

I found the tray that had been used last night, obviously left for someone else to sort out. I washed up the cups and pot and got a brew going to my liking. I was going to put everything on the tray and take it back to the lounge, but I suspected the landed gentry wouldn't be stirring until the sun was high in the sky; so I leaned against the kitchen unit cradling the cup in my hands and letting my mind drift here and there.

At about seven o'clock, I heard a noise coming from the adjoining utility room that I guess, would have been called a scullery when the house was originally built. I looked through the door and saw a lady, probably in her mid thirties, shaking the rain from her coat. She looked up at me and seemed very surprised.

"Who are you and what be you doing in my kitchen?" She demanded.

"Sorry, we haven't been introduced. I'm Julia Brown; I'm starting as the Head Gardener."

"Aye, you might be at that, but what are you doing in the big house? We staff have our own accommodation over by the woods."

"Oh. I stayed here last night." She looked appalled. "I was taken ill, whilst I was travelling. The doctor, Dr Perkins that is, gave me something to sleep and so I did, on the sofa." I hastily added, realising the implications of my first statement. "Sorry for helping myself to your kitchen, but I think my house is locked up and I haven't got any keys yet."

She looked concerned. "I hope you're feeling better. My name is Mrs Billings; I'm going to make breakfast for his Lordship. Like me to put something extra in the frying pan for you?"

I nodded, remembering that I hadn't eaten since the disgusting dry burger that had been served in the motorway services.

She got to work efficiently and soon had me seated at the kitchen table with a Full Monty breakfast in front of me. I tucked in whilst she took a tray with another big meal of for Dr Wagstaff.

She was back shortly, still carrying the loaded tray. "Huh! I don't know what's got into him. First, I find his bed hasn't been slept in and then when I do track him down to the lounge, he only wanted a piece of toast! I've never known him not to start the day without a proper breakfast." She said as she threw the meal into the rubbish bin with a bit more force than was necessary.

"Hello." I looked up and saw Dr Wagstaff leaning against the frame of the door to the main house, nibbling on a piece of toast. Mrs Billings suddenly had something important to do in the scullery, but I did notice the back of her neck going red as she left.

"How are you feeling this morning? I didn't hear you get up."

"Very much better thank you. Sleep always helps.

"Dr Wagstaff, may I move into my house as soon as possible? I had intended to get here earlier yesterday, so as be able to start in the garden today."

Hmm. Don't be too hasty. We'll get you into the house today, but you're not to start work until Perkins has given you the all clear. I see Mrs Billings has sorted breakfast for you. I'll get the keys from my office and we'll go over when you've finished eating."

I tucked back into the fry up.

He returned shortly, obviously showered, shaved and spruced up., holding a bunch of keys.

"If you drive your car, I'll lead in the Discovery."

I followed him out of the house and found my car as I'd fallen out of it, door still open and the interior light glowing dimly. When I attempted to start it, the starter motor gave a half-hearted whine. The doctor came over. "I'll get Jim to bring the estate's van and some jumper leads later on. Let me put your things in the back of my car."

So, that was how I moved in, with a lord of the realm acting as removal man.

The house, though small, was what an estate agent would describe as 'Well appointed'. I looked at the furniture that Dr Wagstaff had described as 'cast offs'. From my avid watching of television antiques programs, I recognised a davenport desk, and ran my hand over the back of the well-stuffed leather chair. All of the wood was mahogany and must have been at least 100 years old I suspected the furniture would probably have given one of the expert presenters a field day valuing it.

"I'll let you sort your things out. When you've seen the doctor, call me and we'll see about planning a work schedule."

The first thing I sorted out was having a shower. Afterwards, in my dressing gown with my hair wrapped in a towel, I was wandering around exploring my new accommodation. I found homes for the houseplants and gave them a good watering to help them settle in. I pulled my cases up the narrow stairs and unpacked. The few ornaments I owned were put on the mantle above the cold, but well used fireplace.

There was a knock on the door. Stooping down to look out of the small low window, I saw Dr Perkins, bag in hand rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. I hurried to let him in.

"Good morning dear. Are you feeling improved this morning?"

"Yes thank you."

"I have your hormone tablets. I had to go to Bristol for them. Not much call for them here, but probably better if you collect them from a bit further a field anyway. Its only takes forty minutes on the motorway."

He passed the bottle across and I went to the kitchen for water to take one straight away. When I returned the doctor had opened his bag and proceeded to check my vital signs. Whilst doing so, he continued to speak.

"Now, since I saw you last night, I have done some background reading. We GPs are jack-of-all-trades but masters of none, so I needed to fill in some gaps in my knowledge. I have made an appointment for you with an endocrinologist for next Wednesday morning. It's with Mr Fielding. Again, he is based in the Bristol Royal Infirmary, so you should get to know that city quite well. It also seems that since you are a post operative transsexual, you no longer need to see a counsellor, and that it is appropriate for me to provide prescriptions between your visits with Mr Fielding."

He put his stethoscope and blood pressure test instrument back into his case.

"You are fine, but no heavy workouts until you have seen the specialist. Understood?"

I nodded my agreement and thanked him as he took his leave.

"YES! No more counselling!" I shouted and danced around the room waving my hands in the air. I was still doing this when Jim put his head around the still open door.

"Begging your pardon miss. His Lordship asked that I should sort out your car real quick. I don't think 'e likes it abandoned in front of the 'ouse there."

I stopped my dance in mid stride and turned to look at him, feeling the colour rising in my face. "Oh yes Jim. Thank you I'll get the keys straight away." Of course with moving everything in, the keys had gone missing and took a while to find.

As Jim drove the Land Rover back to the house I started to ask him about how the estate's land had been managed under my predecessor. I quickly got the impression that it would be a miracle for anyone to be able make Jim impressed at their skills or efforts. I decided on the management technique of getting him involved, and asked what he would do differently. It just turned out be an extremely successful method of making him clam up!

Jim used some jump leads to start my car and then drove it to the small depot, where the gardening equipment was stored, to charge the battery properly. I took the old Land Rover and started to find my way around the estate, making notes on anything that I could see that needed attention.

Away from the house, I found a large brick enclosure. I guessed it would be the kitchen garden that provided fruit and vegetables for the house in times before refrigeration and modern distribution methods.

I pushed against the rotting door and it fell off its hinges, seemingly to be supported by the undergrowth. I had to push the door flat and stand on it to make any headway. From this vantage point, I could see into the garden beyond. I was in an area probably sixty metres square, surrounded by a four-metre high red brick wall. One third of the north wall was taken up by an unusual glasshouse which must have dated back to Victorian times. I had seen such buildings before, but normally they were attached to a large house, and used as a conservatory. Most of the glass had long since parted company with the buildings cast iron framework, but enough stiletto shaped fragments were left suspended from the roof to make any investigation of the inside unwise without suitable head protection.

I could see many fruit trees of different varieties including peach and apricot, only able to grow here due to the shelter of the walls that made maximum use of the limited sunshine.

It was a shame about the state of this area as not many such gardens were left in existence. I would have to see what Dr Wagstaff would want to do about them, but I decided to come back armed with a brush cutter, so I could make a closer inspection.

My tour ended up at the back of the house, where I made a detailed inspection of the visible parts of the pond wall. It all seemed sound from the outside. Only excavating the soil from the inside would reveal if there were any major problems with its structure.

I was on my hands and knees checking what had looked like a crack, but proved to be innocuous, when I heard the gravel crunch behind me. I looked back between my legs and saw my employer's highly polished brown shoes.

"How does it look Julia? Will it hold water?"

I jumped to my feet, brushing my hands on my knees as I turned to face him. "The outside looks fine, but the only way to tell is to empty it out and inspect the base of the inside. Even if it wasn't faulty, when it was changed to a flower bed, it's possible that holes were punched through the bottom for drainage.

"Dr Wagstaff I've had a quick inspection of the estate and come up with a few initial ideas, but I need to talk about what budget I have to use."

"A budget? I've never really worked that way before. There are the two of you for manpower, most materials get put to the estate's accounts. For any unusual costs, Marcus would come to me and I would decide there and then."

"I see. Did any projects end up with spiralling costs or get canned because they were too expensive?" He looked unhappy. I continued. "At the moment, I don't know what your aspirations are. I don't understand why you want to develop the garden. I assume you have no intentions to allow the public in?

"I like to think I'm good at what I do, but that is because I do the job properly, from brief to plan to budget, before a spade bits into the ground. That is why most of my projects have come in on time and within budget."

He let out a long sigh and smiled at me. "I can see that I picked a hot one when I gave you this job! Look, this is a whole new way of doing things for me. Can I suggest that we get together in two days, that's Friday and you talk me through it? My office at ten o'clock would be good." Without waiting for me to confirm the meeting, he turned and strode back to the house, his feet crunching on the gravel.

As I turned back to the pond to finish my inspection, I saw Jim had turned up with his weeding equipment. Guessing that he had overheard my conversation with Dr Wagstaff, I went over to him.

"Hello Jim. How much of that did you hear?"

"Not my business, Miss."

"Yes, it is your business Jim. I think there will be changes in the way the garden is run, but I want you to know now, that I don't think it will affect you. Gardens still need the same manual input. Weeds still grow; nature will always try to take back control. The changes I have in mind will enable us to do more in the garden."

"Oh aye? You wouldn't be thinking about the kitchen garden would you?" He said and I'm sure there was a twinkle in his eye.

Chapter 8 - Archie.

My tummy rumbled as I sat waiting at my desk for our appointment. I was now regretting passing the diet sheet I had got from Perkins to Mrs Billings. The advice of walking around the estate instead of using the Discovery I could take, but the lack of food was getting somewhat annoying.

I was a bit disturbed by my encounter with Julia by the old pond. She had been very forthright with me. Not something, that normally happens outside of the University.

She intrigued me. She had spirit and determination. Over the next couple of days, I often saw her around the estate, taking notes in a small pocket book, or working side by side with Jim. She was always smiling, as if her life had never been so good.

I gave her approach some thought and then started to wonder how much money I was actually spending on the garden. The major cost in the garden that I was aware of, were the staff's salaries. The trouble was that all other costs had been hidden amongst the estate's daily costs.

She had caused me to remember Marcus' attempt at renovating the lookout point by the lake. It had started out as a simple replacement of a safety rail, but then had become a major structural engineering job, with unforeseen costs all over the place.

Mrs Billings showed her into my office and she smiled as she put down the rolled flipchart and a loose-leaf notepad she had been carrying. She was wearing the same skirt that she had worn to the interview, but with a nice cream blouse, unfastened at the collar, I noticed a string of pearls around her neck. She looked tired and I hoped that the illness, if that was the right word, had passed her.

"Good Morning. How are you feeling?"

She smiled back at me. "I'm getting along OK, thanks."

"So tell me about your plans for my garden."

"Well I thought it might be an idea to show you how I work, so I produced a plan for re-instating the pond and fountain. Sorry it's written in long hand, but I had to sell my laptop and camera."

She passed me a document. The writing was neat and precise. It appeared to be a detailed specification of the work to be carried out, split up into various stages. At the back was a description of the anticipated costs. I looked through them.

"You're planning to put the work out to contractors?" She looked over my shoulder at the cost indicated.

"No. I'm charging my and Jim's time to the project. It gives an indication of the true cost. Plus, while we're working on this, we can't be weeding and pruning."

I continued through the costs noticing contingencies for all sorts of eventualities.

"It should cost a lot less than the figure indicated. The important thing is that it will cost no more. Oh, and the Koi carp are optional."

I put the document down on my desk and leaned back in my chair.

"So what other ideas do you have?"

"Dr Wagstaff, you may feel this isn't where you want to go, but I have a few proposals to start making some money from your land.

"I had a quick look through the woodland and there are a lot of mature trees that should be converted into timber. This would have two benefits; firstly, it would generate about á‚ £5000 pounds a year for the next five years. Secondly, it will allow more light through to promote growth for the young replacement trees. This is also good land husbandry.

"Next there is the walled garden." I only vaguely remembered it. I had played there as a child, but had not visited it in many years. "This is interesting from a couple of points. Firstly, from a historical view, there are very few walled kitchen gardens left in existence and this is a splendid example. The walls appear to be sound and I don't foresee any problems with the structure. The glasshouse is in a shocking state, but I suspect it may have an interesting heritage as it doesn't look right in that situation.

"However, to me it is much more interesting from a horticultural perspective. It doesn't look as if much has been done to it in, well, I would guess fifty years. Most of it is completely overgrown and needs to be cleared, but there are some important plants in there. The fruit trees are of varieties, which have now almost completely disappeared, become extinct if you like. There is now a lot of interest in preserving such varieties and I feel that there is an opportunity to propagate the trees into a profitable business."

Her presentation continued with forecasts and cost estimates. She was really getting excited about the project. I have to admit that a lot of what she was saying went over my head, and I started to pay more attention to her body language rather than what she was saying.

Eventually she paused and I started to state my own views.

"I think that was a very interesting presentation and I let you finish because it would have wasted the work you put into it. However, there are a few things you need to understand. I have no need to make any money from the garden. If you think I work at the university for the paltry sum a lecturer earns, you are mistaken; I do that for my love of the subject. Similarly, this garden is maintained purely for my enjoyment.

"Cutting the trees for good husbandry purposes I will go along with and have no objections to receiving the money. Starting a horticultural business is another matter though. I don't think we need to go there. Is that understood?"

"At the interview you said one of your objectives was to keep your house in good condition to pass on to the tax man when you passed away. I assume you were thinking along the lines of passing it to the National Trust? Think how much better that gift would be if it had a rare kitchen garden in good condition. Also think of the opportunity of preserving some specimens of fruit and goodness only knows what else, for future generations." She rejoined.

"You're very beautiful when you are worked up about something." I blurted out.

Did I say that? I could feel the heat rise in my neck and behind my ears; I must be blushing for Britain!

"I beg your pardon?" She was looking at me in a way that made me feel extremely uncomfortable.

I took out my handkerchief and mopped my brow. "I'm so sorry; I don't know what came over me then. I, I just thought I needed to say how beautiful you looked." I urgently needed to change the subject.

"Look, here's what I want you to do. Firstly, I want to proceed with the pond project. Once that is completed, I'd like you to make a survey of the garden and the plant varieties that you believe are endangered. Get a structural survey of the glasshouse and then we can discuss it further. By the way, I'm very impressed with this document." I waved her specification at her then added. "You had better close your mouth dear, before a fly goes in."

"Did you really mean that?"

"Yes. It's an excellent piece of work."

"I mean the other thing...about being... you know"

I nodded my head and she burst into tears just as Mrs Billings came in carrying a tray of tea things.

My housekeeper glared at me, saying. "Dr Wagstaff how could you!" Then she put down the tray and helped Julia from the room, whispering comforting things to her as she went.

"Damn!" I said aloud to the closing door. I can never say the right things at the right time.

 

Chapter 9 - Julia

Mrs Billings took me back to the kitchen. I wanted to tell her that Dr Wagstaff had just paid me a wonderful compliment, one nobody had ever said to me before, but I couldn't get control of myself. I just leaned against her and cried my eyes out.

Eventually I was able to lift my face away from her damp shoulder and explain what happened whilst she poured tea into a cup.

Mrs Billings blushed. "I thought his Lordship had said something horrible to you! I had better apologise to him. I can't believe that you have never been paid a compliment like that before though."

"It wasn't the done thing in my family."

"What about boyfriends?"

"I've never had one."

"A sweet young thing like you? Never had a boyfriend? You need to get out more, dear! Why don't you come to the dance in the village hall a week today?"

Wiping another tear from my eye, I forced a lopsided smile (the best I could do) replying. "That would be nice, thank you Mrs Billings."

"You'd be welcome my dear."

I took my empty teacup over to the sink and washed it out, leaving it on the draining board. Sniffing away the last of the tears, I gave Mrs Billings a little wave as I went out.

"Don't forget, seven o'clock dear. I'll pick you up" She called after me.

I needed to take my mind off what had been said this morning, so I went off to find Jim as I decided to start the excavation of the pond as soon as possible. I eventually found him at the depot pricking out some seedlings into flowerpots.

"Jim, what do we use as a greenhouse for propagating seedlings?"

"Well at home I have 2 windows that face the sunrise and 2 that face the sunset and there are a couple of cloches behind here." He said pointing behind the depot building.

"There is no greenhouse to use?"

He shook his head.

"That's a shame. Now Jim, I've just got confirmation from Dr Wagstaff of our first project." I noticed Jim wince as I used the earned title of our employer. "We are going to restore that raised bed in the centre of the ornamental garden back to a pond and fountain. I have drawn up a plan of what we need to do."

I pinned the task list to the depot's wall and Jim peered at it,

"What are all these numbers by the jobs, Miss?"

"It's my estimate of the number of hours required to finish that task.

"So the first task, Jim is to pot up all the flowers in the bed. We will be able to replant them somewhere else; it would be a shame to just chuck them on the compost heap."

"Right oh Miss, This task 'excavate earth'; you've marked that down as 4 hours. It would take3 days for both of us to do that."

"That's true if we were using shovels, but I'm going to hire a mini excavator to do that. What's the number of the plant hire company?"

Jim pointed to a scrap of paper pinned to the wall and as he went off to load his tools into the back of the Land Rover, I picked up the phone.

I had never been as strong as the other gardeners I worked with and it had gotten worse since starting the hormone course. So, when ever there was an opportunity to use a mechanical digger I had jumped at it. Consequently, I was very experienced and I prided myself on my ability.

The next day the excavator was delivered. I had a little trouble persuading the guy from the hire company, that his machine would be safe in my hands. I decided a little showing off was required. Once I had been shown the controls, I drove the little machine up towards the Land Rover and then used the teeth on the bucket to hook Jim's knapsack and lift it into the back of the vehicle.

Ignoring the looks on the faces of the two men, I then drove over to the now flowerless bed and started to dig the compost out, depositing it into the tractor's trailer. Jim jumped onto the tractor and as the trailer filled, drove the load away; his anticipation enabled us to finish the job in 3 hours forty minutes. Just in time for lunch.

Chapter 10 - Jim

It had been a funny morning. Miss Brown had come up with a piece of paper with all the jobs on it. She had even specified how long was needed to finish each job. I had never worked that way before, and I wasn't looking forward to her chasing me with a stopwatch or anything like that. My old Pa said you can't hurry nature. So, I just went at the job at my usual speed and blow me if I didn't complete it in the time she'd given me.

Then when she started messing with that digger, I thought the flask in my bag had had it. I couldn't believe the delicate touch she had with the thing.

I went to the pub for my usual drink, wondering how long it would take for word to get around that I had to work for a woman.

"Good afternoon Jim." Bill the landlord already had my pint on the bar waiting for me. "Is anything exciting going on up at the big house?"

"It wouldn't be right for me to say Bob. You know that." He's a nosey so and so.

After my drink, I rode back to the big house, to find that Miss Brown had already used the digger to make a trench to one of the garden lights, for the pump's electric and was waiting for Plant Company to collect the thing. She is certainly full of surprises, that one.

Chapter 11 - Archie.

If I wasn't busy in my study I would spend time watching the work on the pond progress from the house. From there I had seen Julia showing off to the men, I don't know what had been said, but I guessed she must have had something to prove.

Whenever I went out, Julia always took time to explain what was being done. I enjoyed those sessions and always tried to prolong them, there was something about being in her company that... well I can't explain what it was. She would give a report of progress against plan each day. As the days passed I also noticed Jim seemed to be working with an enthusiasm I had not seen while Marcus was in charge.

She had explained that of the original pump there was no trace, that the base of the pond had been in a bad state, but Jim had been able to fix the concrete and they were painting sealant over the whole inside.

A hosepipe appeared and the pond started to fill. Julia marked the depth and then work stopped for a day.

"We need to see if the pond is leaking. It's better to do that now before we plant it up. We also have a lot of catching up on general maintenance around the rest of the estate." Julia explained to me.

Satisfied that all was well, Jim shovelled a layer of soil back into the pond ready for planting. Early one morning a lorry turned up with the new water lilies and Julia came to the site dressed in a pair of very brief shorts. I watched as she stepped into the pond, her long legs turning white with the exposure to the cold water. Initially, I told myself that my interest was in the planting that was being done, but eventually had to admit that I was looking at her legs and the bra that became visible as she got wet pushing the roots into the pond bed. By lunchtime, everything was finished and the fountain was turned on. I went out to chat with the two of them.

"Congratulations. This is a splendid job." I said to the backing track of water gently cascading over the statue into the pond.

"Thank you Dr Wagstaff. I am pleased you are happy with it." She replied with a beaming smile. "Have you considered the fish?"

"I don't think we need to do that, do you?"

"It doesn't really worry me. You can put them in at any time, although I would probably let the pond establish itself and find a balance first.

"I have to see the plant hire company; they're screwing us on the invoice for the excavator. I'll drop in later to go through the costs of this project. I think you'll find they are within budget. The job took a week, so that is well within the estimate I made."

"If you're passing, can you drop me off at the pub Miss? I'll pop my bike in the back of the Land Rover." Jim asked.

"Sure Jim, load it up. This afternoon I want to get into the walled garden and look at what is growing in the remnants of the glasshouse up there. Please could you help me after lunch, say 1:30?"

"Aye Miss, that will suit me fine."

Chapter 12 - Jim

I liked the idea of working in the old walled garden. My Pa had said his dad used to be in charge of it and woe betides him if there weren't vegetables on the table and cut flowers in the vases.

I lifted my bike out of the Land Rover and then propped it against the wall outside the pub. I went to my usual table in the corner. Wendy the landlord's wife brought a pint of my usual beer and took my order for food, smiling at me as she went."

Bill came over and sat at my table.

"Hello Jim. I heard you had a new boss. Was that her that dropped you off?"

"Aye."

"Ah ha! So the rumours are true then. She's a pretty young slip of a girl. I'm surprised that you're still allowed out at lunch time or has she not got you under the thumb yet?"

"She be a qualified garden designer; a good one too. She's won prizes at the Chelsea flower show and she's not afraid o' a bit o' hard work neither." I said taking a large gulp of my drink.

"Tell me Jim, is she offering additional non-monetary benefits?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Are you getting any? You daft sod!"

"No I ain't! We have a strictly professional relationship."

"Here that Ted," He shouted to another chap in the bar. "Jim has to pay for it now!"

Without asking, Wendy put another drink in my hand.

"That ain't right, she be young enough t' be my daughter. My Rita was the only girl for me and since she passed on, I've not needed to look for any other women."

"That would be your loss then Jim. Maybe his Lordship's knocking her off in the big house. That would explain why he gave the job to a woman in the first place."

I slammed my glass down on the table, shattering it and losing the last half inch of beer.

"Whoops careful Jim, that's a waste of good beer". I noticed Bill wave to Wendy who brought two more drinks over to the table. "But from what I've heard she seems to spend all sorts of time in the big house with his Lordship."

I tried to explain how she was planning all sorts of things for the garden, but Bill couldn't see beyond her sex and the gossip it afforded. Three pints quickly became four or was it five I lost track of the conversation; Bill trying to pump me for information about my new boss and the goings on in the big house. Eventually Bill said he had to close up and so I headed back. I went to get on my bike, but I found I couldn't quite balance on it, so I slowly pushed it back towards the big house, using it to support me.

Chapter 13 - Julia

Having resolved the invoice issue, I went back to my house to get some food, thinking I must get to the village and stock up, or I would be going hungry again.

I returned to the depot, but there was no sign of Jim. I was impatient to get started and by two o'clock, I had had enough waiting and loaded the petrol brush cutter and some protective clothing into the Land Rover and drove under the dark clouds to the garden.

I was annoyed with Jim for leaving me to do this on my own.

I used the Land Rover's towrope to pull the remnants of the big door out of the way, then after I struggled into the padded dungarees and pulled the facemask onto my head, I powered up the brush cutter.

A brush cutter is a long pole, with a motor at one end and a rotating metal blade at the other. A shoulder strap about two-thirds of the way along leaves the tool balanced and it is light work to sweep the cutting blade back and forth through the undergrowth.

My aim was to get to the glasshouse, though it might take more than one afternoon to clear that far on my own. I didn't know where the paths ran, but the normal layout for a garden like this would be to have beds two metres deep along the walls all the way round and then the middle divided into strips between two and four metres wide. Thus, I cut a one-metre wide swathe three metres from the wall watching for trees and stones that could either stall the cutter or fly out dangerously.

Every so often, I had to stop to use a big rake to clear the cut vegetation and refill the cutter's small petrol tank. Light rain began to fall, but I carried on. The good thing about petrol tools is there is no risk of electrocution if you use them in the rain, but of course, everything still gets wet and heavy. The light was beginning to fail as I reached the glasshouse. The door's hinges were rusted solid so I stepped around it where the glass walls had gone missing.

The first thing I saw was a vine. At one time, the structural cast iron parts of the building had supported the vine, but I suspected the reverse may now be true. The steady dripping of water told me that the roof was far from complete. Outside I could hear that the rain had turned to hail. I was glad of the hard hat I was wearing. I had gone about five metres into the glasshouse, when I realised it was hopeless to try to see anything inside with the light almost gone. As I turned around and moved back to where I had come in, I felt my foot catch on something. I started to fall and grabbed for the nearest iron support. As I hit it, it gave a shudder and suddenly there was a sound like hundreds of marbles being shuffled and pieces of glass started to rain down around me. I ducked and tried to dive for the exit, but suddenly everything went dark.

Chapter 14 - Mrs Billings

I had finished for the day. I was impressed with the diet his Lordship was using. It took a fraction of the time to prepare a salad, compared to the normal fare I had been serving the family for the last twenty years.

Getting back to my cottage I noticed no lights were on in either of the other two buildings and Jim's wreck of a bicycle was abandoned across his gate way.

I got into the bath and enjoyed the smell of the oils I used as a special treat. Then I washed my hair under the shower. I took time with the brush and hairdryer. I wanted to look my best in case Keith Butler was at the dance. Another treat was a pair of new tights; Ladder free and very dark. I slipped into the little black dress. It might be a bit cold for something with only spaghetti straps, but I just know it makes me look good. Make up, jewellery, my watch, check the time, Oh! I'm late. Julia will be waiting for me. Slip on the black pumps with a gold coloured buckle on each toe, check I have everything in my handbag and I'm ready.

I went out to the car but Julia wasn't waiting for me. I turned back to look at the houses. All three were dark.

I knocked on Julia's door. There was no reply and it was locked. After moving Jim's bike, I did the same with his door. No reply, but it was open. The moon came out and I could see a body collapsed on the floor. I quickly entered and checked. The smell of beer was very strong and the snoring sound told me he was drunk and sleeping it off.

I gave him a good poke. "Where is Julia? Where was she working? Come on Jim wake up! Where was Julia working this afternoon?" He stirred and muttered something undecipherable. I gave him a good shake and shouted the same questions at him.

"Wassap? Li' me be!" He got another prod from me. "She w' goin' t' the walled gard'n t' do sum weedin'."

Having told me what I needed to know I dropped him and he resumed snoring.

I didn't know what to do. I knew where the walled garden was, but I had never been in there. I wondered if something had happened to her. I went back to my house and put my working shoes back on. Then I drove over to the big house and let myself in through the scullery. I found his Lordship in his study.

"Dr Wagstaff! I can't find Julia, sir. I think she may have been working up in the old kitchen garden."

Although I knew his Lordship to be a caring employer, the look of shock and concern that flew across his face surprised me. He picked up one of the estate walkie-talkies and tried to call her, but without success.

"Come on Mrs Billings. Get a torch from the kitchen, there is one already in my car. You had better grab a coat as well."

He picked up his keys and literally ran down the stairs and out of the front door. I followed and collected the torch and my working coat. He had the car started and was revving the engine impatiently when I got outside. We were moving before I had even had time to close my door.

I was surprised when he put the car into four-wheel drive and drove straight across the lawn, directly to the garden. Sure enough, the old Land Rover was parked outside. His Lordship had jumped out of the car before it had even stopped moving. I had to put the hand brake on myself as it started to roll backwards.

I had to try to follow his waving torch as he ran ahead of me along a freshly cut pathway. I could hear his Lordship calling, louder as he got his breath back.

"Julia? Julia? Are you in there?" He was standing outside what must have once been a big greenhouse, but now the one end seemed to be a pile of old iron and shattered glass.

We both played our torches over the wreckage. Suddenly mine picked up a flash of yellow. I moved the beam back to the spot and was able to see a yellow hard hat. His Lordship picked his way towards it.

"Mrs Billings. Please go and call an ambulance, the fire brigade and Dr Perkins as he might get here quicker than an ambulance. When you've made the calls wait by the front gate and escort them over to here."

I retraced my steps and took the Land Rover, thanking heavens, the security conscious girl had left the keys in the ignition.

Chapter 15 - Archie

Mrs Billings' torch confirmed my worst fears to be true. There was no danger of anything else falling from this part of the glasshouse, but the broken glass on the floor could still be lethal. Having seen the hard hat, I could then make out her limp form. I picked my way towards it, calling for Mrs Billings to get help. I knelt down beside her and checked for a pulse. It was there. I started taking pieces of broken glass off her, relieved to see that the combination of wax jacket and quilted dungarees had prevented most from get through to cut her. She was breathing steadily, but lightly. I decided to leave her where she was; worried that she may have a spinal injury. A big bruise was developing on her temple. I shone my torch over her, trying to see if there was anything I could do. That was when I saw the iron casting lying across her legs; her strangely positioned foot told that her leg must be broken.

Tears were now streaming down my cheeks, joining with the rainwater running off my hair. Always at the most inappropriate time, but it was at this precise moment that I realised I had never been in love before and without any doubt I loved her. I cleared more glass, so I could sit beside her, and then just sat there stroking her wet hair and whispering the same comforting noises I had heard Mrs Billings use earlier in the day.

Pulsating blue lights alerted me to the arrival of the fire engine. A comforting hand was put on my shoulder and I was lead away by a mature fireman. More blue lights were coming from the gateway, following the old Land Rover that I swear had never gone that fast before.

When the ambulance stopped, the crew calmly got out and hoisted their backpacks of equipment and were lead back to the disaster area by another fireman. This all looked like a scene from the television series 'Casualty' that I had once watched being filmed from my office window in Bristol. I went over to the Land Rover and slumped down on the ground, my back against the vehicles big wheel. Mrs Billings got out and joined me. She looked very pale.

"How is she Dr Wagstaff?"

"I don't know. She was unconscious, but had a pulse and was breathing when I left. Her leg is badly broken."

The firemen came and went, carrying equipment into the garden. Eventually an ambulance man and a fireman came back and collected the stretcher.

We got to our feet as a party of four returned, carrying the stretcher between them. Julia was still unconscious, all colour had gone from her face. Tubes and monitors came from her arm and chest. They slid the stretcher into the back of the ambulance and closed the doors.

The paramedic came across to us.

"Are either of you related to Miss Brown?" We both shook our heads. "OK. Then could one of you come with us to book her in please?"

I nodded, checked I had my wallet and climbed up beside the driver. "Mrs Billings, I'll call and let you know what's happening. I may need you to collect me. The keys to the Discovery are in the ignition."

The ambulance moved smoothly off. As we passed the staff houses, the blue lights illuminated the dishevelled figure of Jim, leaning against his gatepost with a bemused look on his face.

"We are heading for the Royal Infirmary, it's not the closest hospital, but they are better equipped to handle Miss Brown's injuries." The driver told me as we sped towards the motorway.

During the journey, I was trying to see what was going on in the back. The paramedic was calmly checking Julia's vital signs every few minutes, occasionally relaying information over a radio link.

On the motorway, the driver started to increase speed, reaching 80 MPH. He chuckled. "There is a queue of cars behind us who would like to go faster, but they don't want to be seen overtaking an emergency vehicle with its lights on."

Driving through Bristol, other motorists responded to the lights and two-tone horns, stopping to let the ambulance past. Finally, the ambulance turned off the road into the narrow emergency bay.

I saw the stretcher wheeled into a cubical in the emergency department before having to go to the reception area to give Julia's details.

The form seemed straightforward to start with.

              

Patient's name:	Yes, I know that
Patient's address:	Yes, I know that
Next of kin:	don't know
Patient's doctor and address:	yes, easy, Perkins
Reporter's name:	Yes, that's me
Relationship of reporter to patient:	Err, Employer, err, no, friend
Pre-existing medical conditions:	Oh, damn. Do I have to fill that in?

I put in all the personal details I knew, and then watched the receptionist smirk as she read through it. I was then directed to the waiting area, where I waited.

Occasionally I would get an update: she was having an MRI scan, she was having x-rays, she was going into surgery, she was in the recovery room, I could go and see her.

At last! After I woke Mrs Billings to give her an update, I was shown into a small room with one bed, a chair and an array of equipment, most of which went 'Beep'.

She was lying on the bed mostly covered by a blanket; her leg was exposed, a pink fibreglass cast running from hip to toe.

She still looked ghostly white against the green hospital gown she had been dressed in. She was also still unconscious.

I settled down in the chair to wait, thinking of things that needed to be done: I should contact her parents, arrange a private room, a nurse at home maybe. I chatted to the nurses as they came to make regular checks. At last, the rhythmic 'Beep' of the monitors became soporific and my eyelids to droop. Several times, I awoke with a jerk, but eventually I could resist no longer.

Chapter 16 - Julia

I hurt, but not here. The pain seemed to be remote, as if it were in a different room. My head hurt, surely, I couldn't have drunk that much at the dance, but maybe I had, because I couldn't remember going to the dance. My leg hurt, had someone been dancing on my foot? I tried to roll over. My leg REALLY hurt!

I opened my eyes wide with the shock of the pain but my vision only focused slowly. For the second time in a few days, the first thing I saw was my employer, collapsed in a chair snoring.

I still hurt. I tried to work out where I was. The ceiling was white; my room in the cottage was white. O.K. so that's a start. I must have over slept; the alarm clock was making a regular bleeping noise, but my alarm has a bell. Back to square one.

Focus. I've been somewhere like this before. When? It was when I was having my operation. I'm in a hospital. I wonder how the operation went. Am I a woman now? But I remember recovering on the beach in Brazil. Still No joy! I'm in a hospital. My employer is sleeping at the end of my bed. Did I have an accident at work? Work; I'm a gardener, I work in gardens and I was cutting back brush wood at the... This is too tiring. More sleep required.

Somewhere a tray of crockery was dropped. That Noise! Breaking glass! The glasshouse! I screamed with everything I had. "It's falling on me! Get me out of here! GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Big hands were holding my gently. Whispered words: "It's going to be alright"; "there, there"; "shush"; "calm down my love".

Doors banged. It got busy around me. I'm still too tired.

I hurt. Someone was gently holding my hand. I opened my eyes to see Dr Wagstaff again. He looked tired, had stubble on his chin and, and tears running from his eyes?

"Hello. Can I do something for you?"

"Tell them to stop hitting my head with that mallet will you. Can you tell me what happened? What's the damage?"

"The doctor would tell me very little, but I think you underwent surgery for a broken right leg and you were unconscious for a long time. I hope it's nothing that won't mend given time."

A nurse came in all smiles and gushing greetings. "Have you rejoined us dear? Clever you, you woke up just in time for the doctor's round. I'll just get you cleaned up." She shooed Dr Wagstaff out of the room and closed the blinds.

The bed bath was not pleasant.

I had two doctors, a head guy, who wasn't concerned about my headache and a bone guy who had bolted my leg together, literally! Both seemed satisfied with my situation.

Dr Wagstaff came back into the room and sat next to the bed. He took my hand, which was nice.

"What's the verdict?"

"I have fractured both the tibia and fibula, my skull is intact, and there is no damage inside it.

"I'm going to be in here for a week, then another 6 to 8 weeks till I can resume work." He looked sad. "Don't worry, I'll get your garden sorted, it'll just take a bit longer, that's all."

"Hang the garden! I just want you to get better.

"I have to go soon, Mrs Billings is collecting me. Is there anyone I can contact?"

"I don't suppose my parents care. I would have suggested trying to contact my sister, but we last touch a couple of years ago."

I looked at him. He seemed to want to say something but I was too uncomfortable to care. Then Mrs Billings came in, carrying a bag of grapes.

"Hello my dear, what a to-do. You do look much better than you did last night."

"Well that's probably not saying much."

"Can I bring in some clothes for you?"

"Yes please, a nightdress and some underwear please Mrs Billings."

"Right Oh! That won't be a problem at all. Good bye."

"Thank you Mrs Billings, Good bye.

"Good bye Dr Wagstaff. Thank you for being here for me."

"I'll come back later, my dear. Um, would you do me the honour of calling me Archie?"

I giggled. "Alright Archie, just until I get better. Good bye."

He bent down and kissed me on the cheek, just a gentle peck, then turned and followed Mrs Billings out of the room. I put my hand to my cheek and wondered what that meant.

Let's get this straight, no matter how many hospital dramas you've seen, if you are a patient, hospitals are either frightening or boring. Sleeping was good but otherwise I was bored. The most excitement was when the nurse came to check all the bleeps and offer me a fresh bedpan. Food? Please don't take me back there!

Sometime in the afternoon, I had a visitor. There was a timid knock on the door. It opened and a head appeared. At first, I didn't recognise the mass of curly red hair, but suddenly realised it was Clare.

"Hello M... Julia? How are you? Tell me later, you're probably fed up with that question."

"Clare! What are you doing here? Can I have a hug please?"

She came over and gently embraced me. The years rolled back and I was small and looking up to my big sister again. I stayed there a long time. Eventually I broke away and Clare could sit on the bed.

"How did Dr Wagstaff contact you? And how did you get here so quickly?".

"Well I was at work and this police man came into the shop looking for me."

"A policeman?" I challenged. She nodded and carried on

"He said my sister had been in a serious accident and could I come over to Bristol. I was really worried, but when he got me outside he said that you were OK, but would like to see me. He drove me to the airport where a charter flight had been laid on, and here I am. It was very exciting!"

"How are Mum and Dad?"

"They are OK. I see them most weeks. They are starting to get old though."

"Do you think there is any chance of meeting up with them?"

"Sorry, little bro... Little sister, hmm, I like the sound of that. Sorry little sister, but Dad is as stuck in his ways as ever. He was a child of the forties and still has a lot of the values and prejudices that were only just being overcome in those days. I think Mum would like to see you again, in the past she has asked if I've heard from you. The trouble is that, she would never defy Dad. "

I think she sensed that her news made me unhappy as she continued chirpily. "So, what's been going on over the last two years with you? I followed the reports of the tribunal in the newspapers. It looked fairly unpleasant. I'm really sorry I didn't come and support you then, but Dad set an ultimatum, I could support you or I could support him. I had to choose not to support you for Mum's sake.

"One of the reports said you had been taking hormones; was that true? Isn't that the first step to...um?"

"...to going all the way?" I helped out. "Clare, I have never been able to tell you, but I have gone all the way. I had the operations last year."

"No Shit!"

I laughed "Yes Shit!"

"Can I see?"

"Clare! If you don't know what it looks like, use a mirror on yourself"

"You've had something done to your face as well."

"Made my chin a little more pointed. Do you like it?"

"I can see. It has the effect of, well softening your face. Yes. I do like it.

"God Sis, you must really have wanted this very much. I wish I could have helped you."

"Clare. It was my battle. I understand the pressure you were under with Dad. I really appreciated you rescuing those few things of mine. You remember Mr Smelly my teddy bear? He was in that box. He comforted me many times over the months of my transition. He still does actually. I can't tell you how grateful I was to have him."

"So what are you doing now?" I started to explain about the new job working for Dr Wagstaff.

"Who is this Dr Wagstaff? He seems to know some powerful people."

"He is also known as Lord Leighterton, so I suppose he must have some connections, but I'm only his gardener. I probably won't even be that soon, now I'm stuck in here."

"She's my Head Gardener, actually, and will be for a very long time if I don't keep putting my foot in it."

I looked around and saw Dr Wagstaff in the doorway, holding several John Lewis carrier bags.

"Hello Archie. This is my sister Clare." They shook hands and then Archie kissed her on the cheek.

"Did you get here alright? I couldn't think of a quicker way."

"Archie, how did you get the police to look for her?"

"I, err, made a few phone calls to an old school friend. He is now the Chief Constable." He chuckled. "I have no idea how many police balls and benevolent functions I'll have to attend to clear the debt."

He sat in the chair and took my hand again. It was still a nice feeling.

"There are some things in the bags for you. I didn't like to pry through your house, so I bought some new things. I hope they fit. Mrs Billings suggested the sizes and the woman in the shop was most helpful."

I looked through the bags; the first thing I took out was a beautiful red silk nightdress with spaghetti straps. There were also bras and briefs, all top brands and enough for several days.

"Wow, this stuff is so nice. You shouldn't have bought this. You could have just grabbed stuff out of my chest of draws, I wouldn't have minded."

"Please don't mention it.

"Now, I should bring you up to date with the goings on at home. Your shenanigans in my glasshouse have stirred up a hornets nest. I'm besieged by health and safety on one hand who rightly want to throw the book at me for putting an employee into danger; they'll want to interview you, but I asked them to wait a couple of days. Then on the other hand I've got English Heritage demanding that the remainder of the building gets a listed preservation order on it and won't let me tear it down to make it safe."

"How did English Heritage get to hear about it?"

"Well, it is normal for the fire brigade to video their operations for analysis and training. They released it to the media and it was on the local television news this morning. That's when my phone started ringing.

"Now, have you had any more news from the doctors?"

I shook my head. "A nurse told me they are talking about moving me out of this room, they need it for someone else, but I think they are not sure whether I can go in a women's ward or not."

He growled in annoyance. "That's easily sorted. I can get you a private room. In fact I can get you moved to a private hospital; they will have much better food there as well." He said, using a fork to poke the remains of my dinner as if it might have been some sort of biohazard. "I'll just go and find someone to start making the arrangements."

"Coo! He's got the hots for you Sis."

"What do you mean, I know he cares for his staff, but that's not the same thing."

"Caring for your staff doesn't involve clasping their hands and looking at them with big doe eyes or buying them silk underwear and night clothes. Does it?"

I blushed. "That couldn't possibly be true. I mean, he knows, knows what I am."

"Take it from me little sister, when you get out of hospital, he'll be following you around like a lost sheep." She paused, biting her lip as she thought. "Is that a problem for you; I mean, what are you? Err, sexually?"

"You're as bad as my counsellor, Clare; always asking me to decide which side of my bread the butter was on. The answer is that I don't know. As Michael, I was never attracted to girls, but I never looked at boys or men sexually. I think that I never wanted a man on man relationship. Since I had the operation, I haven't been looking for a relationship. I'm scared that if I get close to someone, then at some stage I will have to tell them about how I used to be a man and it'll all go pear shaped"

"But Lord what's-his-name already knows about you. He seems an ideal candidate, for..."

The conversation stopped as Archie returned to the room.

"All sorted out. You are going to stay here tonight and then you'll move to the Waterside hospital, tomorrow. I checked and the consultant who is looking after you will visit you there." He turned to my sister. "I have booked a room in the Swallow hotel for you. I'll drop you off there when visiting time is over."

We sat, or they sat and I lay, and chatted. Sometimes there were long pauses as either we ran out of things to say, or I dozed off.

Eventually a bell rang outside somewhere and the nurse put her head around the door to say visiting time was over. Clare hugged me tightly and Archie once again kissed my cheek, was it my imagination or did he press just a bit harder than this morning. I gave an experimental kiss in return, feeling the light stubble that had taken up position on his chin and smelling the subtle aftershave he was wearing. Clare and Archie both promised to be back in the morning.

I took the proffered sleeping tablet and pain killers and had a relatively good night's sleep, to be woken at six am by the cleaners and nurses getting everyone ready for the doctors, who eventually came four hours later.

Clare came in, bubbling with enthusiasm over her night in a posh hotel.

"It's actually called the Swallow Royal Hotel. It's got a pool inside, and the maid left a chocolate on the pillow.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"I slept quite well and the headache is much better, but my leg is itching really badly under the cast where I can't scratch it"

"That pink cast is a very pretty colour."

"Maybe, but most of my wardrobe is based on green and browns, it'll clash terribly!"

"You need to go shopping for some more clothes, with your blonde hair, some strong pinks or reds would suit you. I would love to take you, but I'm going to have to go back to Kent tonight. I'll be needed in the shop tomorrow."

Soon a couple of porters showed up with a stretcher.

"We are going to move you to the Waterside. I've got all your paperwork here." The senior one said as he put a large x-ray envelope down.

They effortlessly lifted me onto the travelling bed and Clare packed the few bits and pieces I had collected and Archie's new clothes for me.

The ride to the private hospital was quiet and comfortable. Whilst Clare checked me in, the porters took me straight to my room. Waiting for me in a comfortable chair was Archie, dressed in a smart grey three-piece suit, with a royal blue silk tie. He stood up as we entered.

"Sorry I didn't get to the other hospital this morning. I was doing one of the Bible readings in church and I don't like to break that sort of commitment if I can help it, but I came straight here."

I was moved onto the bed and was able to take stock of the room. It was decorated in an off-white pink colour; wide windows looked out on the river Avon as it ran along the Clifton Gorge. Several vases contained what must have been the pride of the local florist's stock.

"This is a lovely room Archie!" He smiled warmly and I could see he seemed pleased with himself.

"I, I couldn't bear to think of you lying in that other ward, eating that disgusting food. I, I think...I want to say..."

"What's that Archie?" I said watching the colour rising in his face once more.

"Oh, it doesn't matter."

What is it with this guy, he keeps wanting to ask me something and then bottling out, just like the afternoon of my interview.

Chapter 17 - Archie

Damn, Damn, Damn! Why can't I just ask her, no tell her how I love her?

I had bought the clothes for her in the big department store by the motorway. I had been so embarrassed asking the assistant for help. I think she got the wrong idea when I asked for nightclothes and underwear. The initial selections were skimpy little things. It seemed the more you paid the less you got! Not knowing any of the terminology didn't help; what is a 'teddy' for goodness sake? I had to resort to words like 'Pretty', 'Elegant' and at one point even 'Comfortable'. In the end, I was pleased with the selection.

I had hoped the gift may have been an opening to say how I felt, but it was difficult to say the right words with her sister there, and I missed the opportunity, damn it!

This wooing of ladies was harder than it was supposed to be. It was at times like this that I missed my late mother. She would have known what to do.

One of the good things about this hospital was the chef, together with the fact that visitors were welcome to eat with the patients. We all sat down to a very nice Sunday Roast. Rare beef, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, cabbage, carrots and parsnips. What a relief to get some real food at last!

After the meal, we continued talking about gardens and Clare's situation in Kent until Clare declared that she must see about getting home. She accepted my I offer to take her to the station, so I was able to sort out her tickets and wave her off at the platform.

I looked around the newsagent in the station. It was full of the usual tat. I picked out a couple of gardening magazines and then on a whim an inflated foil balloon in the shape of a red heart with the words 'Get Well Soon' on it.

I got back to Julia's room to find that she was asleep. I just tied the balloon to the foot of her bed and left the magazines where she could find them. Tomorrow would be another day.

Chapter 18 - Julia

I woke up slowly. The light from behind the curtains told me that it was late; no cleaners, no nurses, just peace and quiet. I lay there accumulating data about my state this morning. No sign of a headache; my leg is beginning to hurt, I'll get some painkillers with my breakfast; I must get someone to scratch my toes! Need the loo.

Eventually, I summoned the energy to look for and press the nurse call button. It brought the nurse and a bedpan. I got myself comfortable and looking around the room for the first time noticed the balloon, gently swaying in the air currents caused by the nurse moving around the room.

"Where did that come from?" I asked the nurse.

"Your boyfriend dropped it off after you went to sleep."

"My boyfriend? Oh, you mean Archie. He is my employer."

She looked at me strangely. "Sure, whatever."

I looked at the balloon rotating on its string and saw the message "Get Well Soon" on the side of it. It seems most unlike Archie to buy something like that; nice thought though.

When I finished doing what needed to be done, the nurse took my breakfast order. I could get to like nutritious food if it was cooked this well. Then I settled down to read one of the magazines that I had found. At about eleven o'clock, the nurse put her head around the door.

"There is a, um, gentleman to see you Miss Brown. Calls himself 'Jim'?"

I pulled my dressing gown over my shoulders and made sure that I was decent, then nodded to the nurse to show him in. He timidly came into the room, looking at the floor. He was dressed in what must have been his best suit, maybe his only suit, probably purchased thirty years before judging by the huge lapels and flared trousers.

"Mornin' Miss. Begin' your pardon for disturbin' you Miss, but I had to come an' say how sorry I was for what happened and that I feel real bad that I let you down, cause I should have bin there to help you." He looked up at me for the first time then and I saw that his left eye was only just open and surrounding it was a Technicolor bruise.

"What happened to your eye Jim?"

"Ah, that were Mrs Billings. She's got a mean right hook. She were right upset with me when she found out I was supposed to have bin helpin' you in the kitchen garden, but I had gotten drunk.

"Jim, I was very annoyed that you didn't turn up. I could have got to the glasshouse in daylight, then maybe I would have seen the state of the ironwork and wouldn't have gone in. However, I don't blame you for what happened. I should have had more sense than to go into what I knew was a potentially dangerous building in the dark."

I had just finished when Archie walked in to the room. Upon seeing Jim, his step faltered and a frown appeared on his face.

"Jim! I have been meaning to see you about your conduct on Friday. Am I right in thinking that when you were supposed to be working, you were actually inebriated?"

"Eh? Sorry Dr Wagstaff I don't get your drift."

"Were you drunk on Friday afternoon?"

"Oh, drunk. Yes, Dr Wagstaff I was. I'm very sorry sir."

"And because of that one of your colleagues got injured."

I could see both men were getting cross or frustrated.

"But doctor, Miss Julia just said it wasn't my fault."

"I think the accident could have been prevented if you had been there. You would normally have enough sense to stop Julia entering the glasshouse. I am absolutely furious, that your inability to control your alcohol intake prevented you from working that afternoon. Is there any reason that you had more than usual?"

Jim went very red and looked at the floor.

"I got angry your Lordship. Bill started saying things about Miss Julia, not very nice things... And his missus was passing the beer to me, so I didn't notice how much I'd had."

"What things?"

Jim looked at me, "I'm not going to say sir; they weren't the sort of things to repeat in a lady's presence."

"Alright we'll leave it at that; I'll make on thing clear though and this goes for both of you, there is to be no using of machinery without someone else being present;" then he looked at me, "or showing off your skills with plant."

Having told us off, he seemed to relax. "How are you getting home Jim? I can give you a lift if you like."

"That's kind of you sir, but I'll catch the bus if you don't mind. Um, I'll get off now, sir. Sorry again about the leg Miss, I hope you're out of 'ere soon."

As Jim closed the door behind him, Archie turned to look out of the window.

"Weren't you a bit hard on him, Archie?" I said to his back.

He didn't reply immediately, his neck turned red and he clasped and unclasped his hands repeatedly behind his back. Eventually he said. "No, I don't think so. Not when the woman I love gets hurt." He turned to look at me. "Julia, I have been trying to say this since the accident, but could never think of the words, or had the courage to say them.

"Julia, I love you.

"Since I first met you at the interview I have been doing strange things: getting lost for words; making excuses to be in your company longer than was necessary; watching your beautiful legs and err, your bra when you were planting the lilies; even going on a diet for goodness sakes. I couldn't understand why I was doing these things and it only struck me when I was sitting next to you waiting for the ambulance to come that I couldn't live without you.

"You're doing that thing with your mouth again. I would close it if I were you."

I shook my head to clear it. In spite of Clare's warning, I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Oh Archie! You are a wonderful person, very kind and caring; good company and understanding, but I just don't know that I love you." He slumped down on the corner of the bed, the disappointment clear on his face. "I wish I could say the same to you. To say 'I love you' and mean it would give me the greatest joy. It's not you Archie. I have never resolved my feelings towards men in general let alone you in particular." I sighed, thinking, trying to find the words to explain and not being happy with those I came up with. "Archie, this is really difficult to explain, especially as I don't even have all the answers. My counsellor was continually banging on about finding where my preferences were sexually, he didn't care which way they were, so long as I knew one way or the other. It was the last question that was causing him to block my application for SRS, for the operation. I couldn't answer it and impetuously went abroad for the operation without his consent. I have never been interested in girls and I never wanted a homosexual relationship with another man. Now I am a woman, I still wonder if I want a transsexual relationship with a man. I don't want to get it wrong and be hurt, so I haven't sought any relationships since surgery."

"Does, does that mean there is a chance you may learn to love me, Julia?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, Archie. Maybe, don't give up on me yet, huh?"

The conversation became stilted after this and it was a relief when Archie had to go to give a tutorial to some first year degree students.

I sat in the room, ignoring the comings and goings around me. The vibrant colours of the flowers seemed to fade to dull variations of grey. I kept thinking about our conversation, trying to force my feelings to flow the way I wanted. The only result of this effort was a damp pillowcase and more visits from the concerned nurses. Still, the questions remained, could I love a man, and had I done the right thing.

Chapter 19 - Mrs Billings

I knew his Lordship had been spending time with her in the hospital, but I thought she could probably do with some female company and anyway, I didn't get to the big shops in the city very often, so I left a salad sandwich in the fridge for his Lordship and off I went. I got to the hospital (they are much posher than when I had my appendix out as a nipper) and was shown to her room.

I tried to open the door, but winced with the pain and had to use my left hand instead. Next time I have to sort out that waster of a gardener, I'll make sure I've got my rolling pin handy.

She was sitting on the bed, a bright pink cast on her leg. The poor thing looked so miserable I had to give her a hug.

"What's wrong my dear?"

She sniffed. "Tell me about men, Mrs Billings."

"Oh I don't think I'm the best person to do that, my dear. I find I can't live with 'em, and I can't live without 'em. I mean, Mr Billings sodded off a year after we got married, but Keith Butler now, he's a right handsome man and well, lets just say I've had some fun times with him."

"But you loved your husband didn't you?"

"I thought I did dear. I'm sure that I did at one point, yes."

"How did you know you were in love then?"

"Phew, you don't 'alf ask some strange questions. A girl your age, you should have had some experiences with boys by now."

She shook her head, and looked hard at her knees.

"Oh well, let me try to remember what it was like."

I told her about the good times we had had; the things he did to make me laugh; and tried to describe the feelings that told me I was in love with him. I don't think I did a very good job. I mean, Love, it's got its own rules hasn't it? You don't pick and choose; it just happens. I couldn't understand why she was asking me about love at a time like this. I mean how would she meet anyone in a hospital?

"What do you do if you don't get any of those feelings when a man says he loves you?"

"Oh my poor dear, did you want it to happen, want it to be him?"

She shook her head. "I didn't expect it, couldn't believe it when he said it and when he did, I just felt sort of numb or empty inside."

What could I tell her? I could say 'If you don't feel anything the first time then its probably not going to happen, find someone else.' which is what I believe, but that would break her heart. I would just have to resort to the woman's favourite and tell a rather dirty white lie.

"Well, maybe you need to spend more time getting to know him, learn his ways and find out how and why he loves you. Maybe it'll come to you."

She smiled for the first time during my visit, but the way her eyes shone told me that tears were not far away.

"I have some errands to run. I'll pop in to see you on another day. Bye-bye, dear."

I left her some old 'Woman's weekly' magazines full of short stories that Mrs Upshot had given to me and a box of Celebration chocolates that I can't eat cause of my diabetes.

I can't believe how busy Bristol is getting. Every time I go, the number of people wandering around the shops seems to increase. I was tired out by the time I got back to the big house to start preparing his Lordship's supper, only to find he was Mr Grumpy, hardly speaking and never saying please or thank you.

I left him to it and returned to my house, thinking of the strange conversation I had had with Julia.

Chapter 20 - Julia

Bored, bored, bored, bored, and bored!

I had glanced through Mrs Billings magazines. Most of the stories were twee with predictable twists in the last paragraph. I had passed the chocolates onto a nurse after spotting the sell by date was six months earlier.

I have been on this bed for four days now. My tolerance of the home improvement programs shown on daytime TV is very low, and I'm worried, that if I see many more of them, I might start enjoying them.

Archie's visits are less frequent than in the first couple of days here. When he has come, he earnestly tells me he loves me, but I still don't feel anything in return. I think he is finding my inability to respond to him frustrating. The conversation seems to quickly dry up.

I haven't been outside for five days now. It's a very long time since I have spent this much time away from any sort of garden. I think if I'm in here much longer, I'll go mad.

The nurse came in.

"There are two gentlemen from the Health and Safety to see you Miss Brown."

The two men came in, wearing grey suits with grey expressions on their faces. I had dealt with HSE in the past, when one of my crew had put a fork through his foot. Then, I had found them to be fair but committed to their rulebooks.

"Good morning Miss Brown. I'm James Appleton and this is my colleague Eric Brompton. We are here from the Health and Safety Executive, investigating the building collapse at Wagstaff House on Friday last."

They both showed identification passes with their photos.

"We are concerned that your employer may have put you in a dangerous situation without the necessary training or protective clothing. We would like to ask some questions about the incident. I'd like to get some background information first."

He asked me about my experience and qualifications, past jobs. Whilst we were talking, the nurse brought a tray of tea.

"What were your instructions with regards to the glasshouse?"

"A week before, Doctor Wagstaff had asked me to survey what plants were in the garden and then get a structural survey done of the glasshouse."

"So he was aware of the state of the property?"

"I believe so, he said he hadn't been there for many years, but was concerned that it was dangerous."

"So knowing that it was a dangerous building, he asked you to go inside to survey the plants?"

I thought carefully.

"No he didn't ask me to go into the building; that was my decision. He had asked me to get a survey done, the implication being I would arrange for an engineer to do it."

My questioners' colleague was taking notes.

"Now I understand that you had been working alone prior to the incident, but you were using power cutting tools."

"Yes, my labourer hadn't turned up. I was using a petrol operated brush cutter to clear undergrowth. Before you tell me, I am aware that it is not recommended to use chainsaws unaccompanied, but there aren't any specific rules with that particular equipment."

"What were you wearing whilst performing this task?"

"I had full set of protective overalls" I replied, wondering how the paramedics had cut the gear off me.

"Fine, I think that ties everything up. I will be contacting Lord Leighterton to say that we have no further concerns about his operation, other than to recommend that power tools are not used by a single operator."

They left and I relaxed. At least I had been able to use my mind whilst they were here, even if it was the Spanish Inquisition.

I turned on the television to see a camp presenter spraying flowerpots with silver paint. I turned it off again.

The physiotherapist came into the room carrying a pair of crutches.

"It's time to get you mobile again Miss Brown."

She adjusted the crutches to the right height and then helped me into a standing position. The blood ran to my feet, making me light headed and causing my leg to throb. After a while, I felt better. The physio walked me up and down the room a couple of times, ensuring that I put no weight on the fractured limb.

"That's very good. I spoke the consultant and he said you should be able to go home tomorrow, once you've mastered the crutches and I'm happy you can cope for yourself at home.

"Is there anyone at home to look after you?"

"No, but I have very helpful neighbours."

"And do you have good facilities, plenty of space in the bathroom? I had one lady, who got her self sat on the toilet, but there wasn't enough room for her leg to be stretched out and she got stuck! Your house has safe stairs; and a comfortable bed?"

At each question, I nodded. I actually didn't care what the question was, if saying yes got me out of here, the answer was yes!

The physio left, promising she would see me again tomorrow before I was allowed to leave.

I took the crutches and limped over to the full-length mirror. I looked a bit of a mess; my hair needed washing, probably cutting as well. A little make up wouldn't go amiss. The nightdress looked good on me, it's red colour complementing the pink of the cast. The thin straps of the nightdress emphasised my shoulders, only spoiled by the large green bruise that was still receding. I decided that when I got out I would keep it for a special occasion. Immediately Archie flashed into my mind. I looked at myself again and realised that I couldn't go home like this, clothes would be a better idea.

"Hello Archie? It's Julia. They are letting me out tomorrow, could you bring some clothes in for me when you come tonight please?

"That's wonderful news!" His voice crackled back over the phone. "What do you need?"

"A blouse and skirt, my coat and a shoe" The thought of bringing in a single shoe made me giggle. "You had better ask Mrs Billings to find some things from my wardrobe; she'll know what I need." Then I had an anxious thought, that there maybe some things in there that betrayed my former self. I did a quick mental inventory and decided the only things that that connected me to Michael could have an innocent explanation.

"What time will you be coming?" I asked, realising that I was feeling excited about getting my clothes back and more freedom; or was it the prospect of seeing him again?

"I could drop them in at three, before my lecture on the Jurassic period, and then I'll come back at six and eat with you if I may?"

"That's great! I'm looking forward to it." I put the phone back onto the cradle, and looked at myself in the mirror again, not happy! I picked up the crutches and levered my way out of the room looking for the nurse's station.

"Hello. It's nice to see you out and about." The nurse smiled at me. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I was wondering if it would be possible to get my hair washed. It feels horrible, and doesn't look much better."

"Yes of course." She looked at a list on the desk. "You're in luck actually. We have the mobile hairdresser coming in this afternoon, would you like me to make you an appointment?"

I nodded enthusiastically and then hopped my way back to my room to wait.

Archie came at half past two, looking for lunch, but he was too late. Ha-ha!

He sat in the chair next to my bed while I looked through the small case Mrs Billings had packed. I found all that I needed, secretly pleased that she had put in my favourite long skirt and the silk blouse that I kept for best wear.

Then I got back on the bed to talk with Archie. He held my hand and I still enjoyed the firm but gentle grip and wondered if this feeling meant anything. I looked into his face and felt the corners of my mouth going up in an involuntary smile.

It was only a short visit and I was disappointed when he put on his coat, but kissed me on the cheek and I felt better. I was beginning to like those kisses.

I limped with him to the door and waved goodbye as he got into the Discovery and drove off. Soon after I got back to my room, a woman of my age came in pushing a trolley of hairdressing supplies in front of her and towing a salon hairdryer behind.

"Hello, I'm Karen. The nurse said you wanted your hair washed?"

She sat me at a chair by the sink but before she started to wash it, she ran a comb through my hair, inspecting it with practiced ease.

"Your hair is lovely. Are you sure it's just a shampoo, or would you like me to set it as well?"

Although I do go to the hairdresser regularly, other than a good cut, I have never had my hair styled, preferring it to be long and straight as it's the easiest long style to look after. I looked at Karen in the mirror and suddenly felt a confidence in her ability.

"I've never had it anything other than straight, but I'm feeling like a change, what would you propose?"

"Hmm, I suggest that I give it a wave or possibly even curls."

I thought of Clare's curly hair and wondered how I would look with a similar style.

"If I didn't like it, it would wash out wouldn't it?"

"Yes, I wouldn't perm it, just use some setting lotion."

"OK, let's go for it then"

She washed my hair and combed it out. As she rolled my hair around the first roller, I remembered that the last time I had used rollers was when I got caught by my sister. A violent shiver went up my spine to the extent that Karen noticed it.

"Are you alright?"

"I just remembered why I don't like rollers; it has links to bad memories from when I was a child."

Karen looked mystified, but I wasn't going to expand on that. After the first shock, I enjoyed the experience. When all the rollers were in place Karen passed me the magazine I was still reading and pulled over the salon hairdryer for me to sit under.

"I'm just going to give one of the other patients a hair wash, I'll be back in about 20 minutes. Just sit there and relax."

The warm air blowing around my hair and ears certainly made me relax; I woke up when Karen turned off the dryer to find my magazine had fallen on the floor.

"Sorry to wake you, I left you for half an hour as it was. Any longer and your hair would have been fried!"

She pulled the dryer away and started to undo the rollers a mass of curls leapt back into an untidy nest. I gasped.

Karen giggled. "Don't worry, once it's brushed out, it will look fine."

She set to work with her brush and comb soon the curls surrendered and became a series of gorgeous waves. I shook my head delighted in the way they fell against my shoulders.

"Karen, that is gorgeous!"

"Well, I'm only as good as the materials available, but, yes, it's not bad, is it.

"I guess you won't be in here next time I visit, but if you want, I can come to your home next time." She handed me a business card.

I went to find my purse to pay, but she stopped me.

"This is charged to the room, a bit like in a hotel. It's part of the agreement I have with the hospital; I work here if they can have a cut; I mean a share. I don't do free haircuts!" I joined in with her laughter as she left.

Closing the door, I washed myself sitting by the sink and then put on my bra and the silk blouse. I had to call the nurse to help me dress below the waist, as I couldn't reach to get everything over the cast. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I marvelled at the change the hairstyle made to my appearance.

When we were finished, I stood and asked the nurse. "How do I look?"

"The best since you've been here that's for sure. I love the hair. You're taking a lot of trouble over your appearance tonight. Is someone special visiting?"

"Um, no. No-one special, I don't think." But, I was starting to wonder.

I found a day room and waited in there chatting to some of the other patients, occasionally walking around to keep loose. Just before six o'clock I was hobbling past the entrance on the way back to my room, when Archie came through the main door.

"Julia?"

"Hello Archie. I would close your mouth if I were you; you never know what may fly into it."

He closed his mouth with a snap.

"Julia, you are more beautiful than ever!"

"Do you like it?" I tried to do a pirouette, but it went horribly wrong; my crutches slipped on the floor and I tumbled towards Archie, squealing as I went. Archie put out his arms and caught me, but my momentum was too much and we both fell to the floor.

"I have fantasised about being in this position for nearly a week now, but I didn't expect it to take place in a hospital reception area!" Archie said trying to look around.

I found myself lying on top of Archie with my face resting on his chest. He put his arm gently around my back, and rubbed my shoulder. This was like the feeling when he held my hand, but much, much more so.

"Are you alright? Have you done any further damage?"

"No, I don't think so."

" Then can I get up please?"

I experimentally snuggled my face into his chest. "No, I don't think so."

I breathed in his odour and liked it. I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, Archie! I think I understand now."

"What's going on? Is everything alright?" Two nurses had heard my crutches hit the floor and had come to investigate.

"We are fine thank you very much; just the polish on the floor was a bit too slippery for Julia's crutches. Could you possibly help us up?"

The nurses separated us and put Archie back on his feet and me into a wheel chair.

Archie wheeled me back to my room and while we waited for the food to be served, he put his hand on my cheek and I snuggled into it.

"You're hair is gorgeous Julia. Why haven't you done it like this before?"

"It's a long story and involves a thirteen-year-old boy wearing his big sisters rollers."

"Oh!" He looked confused, but went back to his original topic.

"I was stunned when I came into the hospital tonight. The light was behind you, shining off your hair. You looked like a goddess! I didn't realise it was you, until I saw the crutches and cast.

Still caressing my cheek, Archie leaned forward and gently kissed me on the lips. Oh, that Kiss! My emotions were in turmoil; the hug on the floor; caressing my cheek and now the kiss. Each episode brought charged feelings that didn't die away, but built upon the previous ones. I melted into his arms. For the first time I knew how it feels to be a woman in love.

"Julia, you look wonderfully happy, what is it?"

"Archie, I have been telling you that I didn't return your feelings of love. The truth is that, I didn't know what love was. It is only just now, that I understand all the little messages when you did things. I told you it would give me great joy to be able to say 'I love you'. Well that is why I'm so happy. Archie Wagstaff, I Love you."

"That's wonderful darling! You've just made me the happiest man in Bristol!"

I have little idea what happened the rest of the evening, although I do remember the nurses telling Archie, seven or eight times that visiting was over.

Chapter 21 - Jim

He phoned me at ten o'clock at night to tell me he wanted the car and uniform the next morning. I mean the car hadn't been used since his parents' funeral. It took me ages to pump up the tyres, charge the battery and check everything was safe. Then I had to clean and polish it.

As for the uniform, I 'ad to beg Mrs Billings to sort that out for me the next morning. Dressing in the stiff collared shirt, with the double-breasted jacket buttoned to the neck, I felt a right Charlie.

The worst thing was when Mrs Billings insisted on putting some make up around my eye to hide the bruise. Gawd, whatever will become of me if anyone finds out about that!

Driving the big car through Bristol's early morning rush hour traffic was no fun either. His Lordship directed me to the hospital; I thought he must have been visiting Miss Julia on the way to wherever we were going. I had to wait for hours, standing beside the car, the chauffeur's hat pulled over my head.

About two hours later, he escorts Miss Julia down the stairs and helps her into the back of the car; then it's "Home James" and were off back to the big 'ouse. I ask you, what a palaver just to fetch the other gardener home!

Chapter 22 - Mrs Billings

As if I didn't have enough to do this morning, Jim wanted help pressing the Chauffeur's uniform; mind you he did look the part when he left and I always liked men in uniform; whoops, I shouldn't have said that should I?

Anyway, apart from sorting Jim out, I had to prepare three guest rooms. I knew one of them was for Miss Julia, I had helped his lordship collect her things from the cottage, and I have to admit that I felt happier knowing that she would be living in the big house whilst she convalesced than in the little cottage with its narrow stairs and no-one to look after her.

His Lordship hadn't mentioned who the other guests would be and as it was rare for anyone to stay at the big house, I had a lot of work with removing dustsheets, cleaning, airing and finding all the bedding and such like.

I paused in what I was doing when I heard a car's wheels crunching over the gravel drive, looking out of the window; I saw the family Rolls Royce pull up outside the front door. Jim got out then opened the rear door for his Lordship, who then leaned back into the car to help Miss Julia out. I ran downstairs to help her into the house and get her settled.

By the time I got down, she was already in the hall. She seemed like a different woman to the sad thing I chatted to in the hospital; she was smiling, had a glint in her eye and a glow to her cheeks.

Archie was helping support her as she hopped into the lounge and we got her settled on the sofa with her leg raised.

Chapter 23 - Julia

It is now two days since they let me out of the hospital. It had taken an age to get released, with checks from the consultant and physio. Archie was waiting for me patiently in the hall when I finally escaped. He gave me a big hug and we kissed passionately; what had happened to those inhibitions from a couple of days ago?

He escorted me to the front door and I was surprised to see a chauffeur driven Rolls Royce waiting; until I realised whom the chauffeur was!

"I thought the Roller might be more comfortable than the Discovery." Archie had said in a matter of fact manner. He was right to, as the car whispered back to Gloucestershire.

So here I was, on a Friday evening, sitting on the sofa looking at my lover. I heard voices in the hall, which I thought was strange.

"Clare, are you sure this is the health spa? There was no sign at the gate and I would have expected some sort of reception desk in the lobby."

I thought I recognised the voice, but couldn't be sure. Archie leapt form his chair and hurried out of the room. There was laughter in the hall and then Archie returned followed by Clare, and my mother followed her! I could do nothing but look from face to face whilst my mother stared at me her look showing recognition, but clearly not being able to match it with a name.

"Mum," Clare spoke, "I'd like to introduce you to Julia Brown. Um, she is your daughter."

"Julia? Michael! My baby! What have you done... to your leg; no, forget the leg what have you done to yourself. What happened to my little boy? Is what Clare told me true?"

"Mum... I didn't know you were coming. How are you? I haven't been able to speak to you for so long!"

Tears were flooding down my cheeks and mum was in the same state. We both clung to each other desperately.

After a while, I looked at Clare and Archie for an explanation. Clare also was dabbing her eyes with a tissue and Archie's eyes were glistening, so he wasn't far from tears either.

"After we spoke last weekend, I really wanted mum to come and see you, but I knew dad would never allow it. So, I hatched a plot with Archie, telling mum I had won a girls weekend in a health spa. Of course, dad had no interest, so The Wagstaff Health spa was born. I told mum about seeing you last weekend, but not that we were on our way to visit again today."

"Oh Michael, your father is such a fool. I should have stood up to him and protected you! Maybe if you had been still at home I could have prevented this happening." She said looking me up and down.

"Mum, my name is Julia now and I'm now very happy with who and what I am. I was never really happy as Michael. I had lots of counselling before I went through with the operation. The gaps that that left, I have since filled in for myself. Mum, I am a girl now. I was always a girl inside. "

"J, Julia?" She said the word experimentally, as if using it for the first time. "You had a great aunt Julia, did you know that?"

I shook my head. "I didn't know that, I chose Julia, because there was a girl at school who once helped me after I had been bullied. I thought she was kind to me then, I thought maybe her name would be kind to me in the future."

The weekend went well after that. Occasionally I would catch mum looking at me suspiciously, but it seemed she grew to like her new daughter and we were talking like old girlfriends by the Sunday evening when they had to leave.

Chapter 24 - Epilogue

Mum arrived home happy and dad, assuming it was the magical effect of the health spa, encouraged her to visit again. In fact both mum and Clare became regular visitors to Wagstaff House, and it was during one of these visits that Archie and I formally declared our love for one another. There will be no official ceremony. Our relationship won't be a legally binding one unless the law is changed (I have a feeling Archie may be tackling that one with some of his friends in the House of Lords), but as Archie says, one of our neighbours is the heir to the throne and who knows what he and Camilla get up to?

My leg got better, although I grew to hate the visits from the physio with her exercises. Eventually I was able to resume my role in the garden, but I now do it for the love of it, rather, that as my employment. An architectural historian has been to survey the remains of the glasshouse and after researching in Archie's library, found it to have been originally built as a test for Joseph Paxton's amazing Crystal Palace built for the 1851 exhibition. As such, it is a historically important building and Archie was bound to restore it. This is not a quick job, but should be completed in a couple of years, but then we are in no hurry, as we have the rest of our lives to be able to enjoy it! I'm working on persuading Archie to let me open the kitchen gardens to the public and carry out my plan to create a preserved specimens business. He does seem to agree to my requests with little effort on my part these days... I wonder why.

Authors Note: My thanks go to Angie and Angela for reading and making constructive comments and to Stacy for giving me encouragement from the initial idea.