The second part of the increasingly poorly-titled 'Stone fox tapes', which will likely make little sense without a swift (re)read of the first part.

I was right. Monday was a complete nightmare. If I wasn't staring, horrified, at the re-animated corpse in the mirror and wishing I knew something about make-up, I was bursting into tears over random Java compiler errors. Which sent me scurrying into the bogs for more red-eyed mirror staring. If I'd had my brains about me I'd have bunked off early, but some daft pride about not giving in to perceived stereotype kept me chained to my workstation. The cavalcade of wonderful continued when I left work. It was pissing down with rain, and by the time I'd made it to the end of my road my trudging had become squelching. Still, at least no-one could spot the difference between tears and raindrops.

I left a wet trail of clothing from the door of my flat to the shower, then slouched around in my bathrobe until I could seize the family-sized lardy special from the startled pizza bloke. I washed the thing down with a bottle of wine and then sprawled drunkenly on the sofa feeling sad and bulbous.

When Katie rang, I held it together for about thirty seconds before hiccupping and sniffing the day's entertainments down the phone to her. She was all set to drop Jack with her mum and steam round to keep me company, which made me feel even worse.

"Alix," she commanded "Go and get your bag. The one you had last night."

I tottered into the kitchen to retrieve it from the table.

"Got it? Good. Now empty it out."

I upended the thing on the sofa. Keys, hankies and wallet cascaded out. And a vibrator with a red bow attached.

"Katie!" I shrieked "I've been carrying that around all day! What if... What if..."

I could hear the dreadful girl laughing delightedly down the phone. I bit my lip and tried to think serious thoughts. Oh bollocks, it was no use at all. She'd got me grinning like a loon.

"I suppose you think that's funny," I said between giggles.

"Yes, actually. I do. Now go and discover how futile any of your remaining blokey cave-dwelling behaviours are. I expect you to have shagged the batteries in the thing when you bring it with you tomorrow. Oh, and if you still hadn't worked it out, bring enough underwear for the rest of the week."

"Yes, miss," I said, half meekly.

"That's better." Katie sounded... slightly nervous. I wasn't sure. Sometimes you can tell when someone's working up to an announcement.

"Alix, I... Bugger. I think I set Jack off. Alix, I... "

"Go!" I interrupted. "See to your splendid offspring. We can talk tomorrow."

"But, I..." Katie sounded torn. "Ah, it'll keep. See you, lover."

"You too, sweetie," I said.

Sweetie? Jesus. I was taking to this female business like a duck to a nice plum sauce.

I put the vibrator in my bathrobe pocket. Looking at it made me want to clamp my knees together - it seemed huge. On the other hand, the effects of a bottle of wine made Katie's plan seem like the best idea ever. Two more votes came from my nipples. I really was going to have to get a less-rough robe. I shuffled into the bedroom, threw the bathrobe to one side and eyed the vibrator drunkenly.

'That's never going to fit' I thought.

Well, it did. Repeatedly.

* * *

Tuesday's hangover was a lot less fierce than I had any right to expect. I wandered through the day with slightly sore head and cunt, bursting to explain to anyone who'd listen that multiple orgasms were an excellent cure for the Monday Bleak. Of course I couldn't, because as far as they were concerned I was a man in a fetching frock. That was all going to get very confusing.

When I arrived at Katie's, shopping in one hand and stuffed day-pack in the other, she at least allowed me to shut the door before pinning me against it for an entirely lovely hip-grinding snog.

"Don't you ever make me wait that long again," she growled when we came up for air.

I stood there, panting slightly and wondering if I could get away with ripping her clothes off right now and fucking her on the stairs, or if I should make supper first. The doorbell ringing loudly in my ear made the decision for me, though it was touch and go.

Emma steamed in and looked askance at the pair of us.

"Hello. Have we interrupted something?"

"Yes," said Katie cheerfully "We were about to shag on the stairs."

Dave peered round the door.

"You just carry right on with your lesbian things. We'll make ourselves at home. Do you have a video camera? Ow! Emma!"

Katie slid behind me and cupped my breasts with both hands. I jutted one hip out and tried to look sultry. Though since both Dave and Emma burst into laughter, it probably looked like I was wondering if I'd left the gas on.

We adjourned to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. I was giving the blender the full Jamie Oliver two-handed shake before a ribald audience when Katie's parents arrived.

"I never believed anyone actually did that," declared Liz from the doorway.

I tipped the curry sauce over the chicken and set about it with a wooden spoon.

"Neither did I until I tried it. You have to remember to hold the lid on, otherwise it all gets a bit messy."

"I shall take your word for it, my dear."

Liz looked around the room, as if searching for something. Katie coughed and held up the wine.

"Oh, well spotted, Catherine. Yes, a glass each will be a splendid start."

She and Mike had met Emma before and knew of Dave, so introductions were minimal. It took about ten minutes for the conversation to go technical. Emma and Katie poured themselves large glasses and let the other three get on with it. I was torn between not wanting the curry to go on fire, needing to stick my oar in regarding the rubbishness of consumer PCs, and wanting to display girly solidarity with my partner and best friend. Given that the two of them were glancing regularly in my direction and laughing into their glasses, I thought it best to leave them to it and content myself with food bothering and pithy observations about the state of Windows drivers.

As luck would have it, the curry was a success. I was sitting there feeling stuffed, a little tipsy and only half paying attention when Liz turned to me.

"So then, Alix. When are you moving in?"

I sat up quickly and tried very hard not to breathe wine. Emma smirked and Katie looked horrified. I couldn't see Dave and Mike's expressions, but they were probably of the resigned variety.

"I, um... We, I mean..." I tailed off. We. I'd said 'we' to Katie's mum. And her dad.

Liz looked amused at my confusion. Katie grabbed my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

"Come come, dear," said Liz "You must know the joke as well as I. What does a lesbian bring on a second date?"

"Mother!"

I couldn't work out if Katie's horror was real or mock. I hoped for mock.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Catherine. The pair of you are so sweet it's making my teeth itch."

Emma joined in.

"It's true. You are both repulsively cute."

I grinned at Katie and pulled the hand that still held hers from its hiding place in my lap and rested it on the table.

"Good. So now that's settled, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?" said Liz.

Your blood doesn't actually run cold at any point. What happens is that there's a massive pulse of adrenaline as your fight or flight reflex is kicked off.

Katie squeaked in surprise when my grip tightened.

Emma chose that exact moment to have a coughing fit. It was quite a production, complete with back-rubbing and sips of water, and when she finally waved us away, the moment had passed.

* * *

"There was nothing wrong with Emma, was there?" said Katie.

"No."

"Oh."

The last time we'd been on that sofa, it was for wild and sweaty sex. We were now snuggled together under a duvet and holding hands again. It felt like a good default choice.

"It's a bit of a rubbish story," I said. "Technically, if I'm from anywhere it's Wiltshire, since I was born at Stonehenge."

Katie's eyebrows shot up and she opened her mouth to say something. I rushed on. Better to get it all out in one piece.

"I've no idea who my father was. Mum never thought it was important to tell me, and since we spent a lot of time in radical lesbian communes, banging on about men wasn't a popular choice. It was bad enough that I was a boy, I think. I mean, probably. Then when I was nine, she got bored with the idea of motherhood and fucked off. We were at some eco-community in Wales at the time, and the rest of the people there were like an extended family anyway, but it wasn't... " I ground to a halt.

Katie hugged me.

"Oh, Alix. I'm so, so sorry. That's awful. You must hate that sort of question."

I sniffed and smiled a little.

"It's... I used to hate her so much. The useless selfish cow, how could she? But it's much better now. I mean, there's Emma and stuff."

"Emma?" Katie looked taken aback.

"Yeah, we got trashed one night at uni. It was my birthday and it all came out. The silly girl volunteered to be my backup mum on the spot."

"Backup mum? That's..."

"Pretty damn brave under the circumstances."

Katie looked uncomfortable.

"Alix, sweetie. I..."

I kissed her on the nose.

"Don't worry. You can ask me anything now. Emma was just being over-protective."

"That wasn't what I was going to say, but since you mention it. Do you know where your mother is now?"

"Olivia? The last postcard came from some place on the Moroccan coast. So, what were you going to say?"

"That I love you."

I sat there and stared at Katie for what seemed a very long time.

"Well say something, you cow," she said eventually.

"Um. Good."

"Good? Fucking 'good?' That's... " There were tears in her eyes.

"Good, because I love you, too."

"Oh. Good."

"Yes," I said.

"You are such a complete man sometimes."

We kissed for a very long time. Interspersed with the removal of clothing. In the end we gave up on the sofa and went for proper grown-up sex in a bed.

* * *

I made it back to my own flat at the weekend. Ostensibly to pick up the post, but mostly to fling all the clothes that I could still wear into a rucksack and then steam back to Katie's for a mug of tea and more sex.

* * *

As the days lengthened over the next few months, I learned about nappy-changing, how to avoid looking like a clown in make-up and the 'boots first, then corset' rule.

Liz had come charging up soon after I'd 'moved in', hugged me enthusiastically, whispered "I'm so sorry for asking about your parents. Can you forgive me?" and then shot off before I could get my thoughts in order. I wrote her a note that read 'Yes. Forgiven.' and posted it that very evening.

Jack had decided I was one of the family within weeks. We'd been sitting up in bed one morning when he'd started crying. I brought him into the bedroom and discovered that he was hungry rather than whiffy when he made a bee-line for my breast. I was transfixed when he latched on and sucked hard. It felt... I didn't know what it felt like. Katie returned from the bathroom at about the same time that Jack gave up in disgust. She smiled when she saw my expression.

"Good, isn't it?"

"I, um... Oh God. This is so confusing."

I was cradling Jack against my breast still, and he was looking up at me as if to say "You're not my mum and your tits don't work, but I'm comfortable so that's ok."

Katie re-joined me in bed and rescued him from my clutches.

"Remember what Emma said? Just relax and go with it. You'll work it all out in time."

I nodded and wriggled my way down under the duvet to stare at the ceiling.

* * *

I moved in properly - in that I set my computer up in the box room and dumped several boxes of CDs and DVDs next to Katie's stack - when the lease on my flat ran out at the end of the month after that. I didn't miss my old place much, since it still smelled of Julia and me as a man. We were preparing to clean the place so as to recover the security deposit when Katie and Emma bustled into the now anonymous-looking sitting room. They found me crouching in front of the big VCR that seemed to have started all this.

"Come on Alix," said Katie. "Are you going to want a hand with that or... Oh. That's it, isn't it?"

I looked up at them and nodded. I was still a little shellshocked from the experience of a period the week before. I'd felt hateful and bloated as a man, but not like that and not accompanied by bleeding from the sex-bits. It was a regular reminder that I was a healthy and fertile woman, and staring at the VCR was a little like looking at photographs of happy times with ex-partners. Another complete life to which you cannot return.

"Did you ever wonder if it would work backwards?"

Trust Emma to ask the question that I'd been carefully not thinking about.

I let myself collapse backwards against the sofa and looked down the top of my pale grey fleece at my bra-encased breasts.

"I... Yes. No."

Katie was hanging on every fumbled word. I tried again.

"I mean, yes I did, to begin with. But I was also thinking 'What if I visualised the wrong thing at the wrong time?' I might never get back to being, y'know, me. A me that people might mistake for a young Diana Rigg seemed to be the best option. Especially when you introduced me to this one."

I reached for Katie's hand and squeezed it. She beamed at me.

"Alix, I'd still love you to pieces if you were a man. Well, as long as you were as good with the toilet seat and the sex and stuff."

Emma rolled her eyes in disgust.

"You two are still repulsive together. I'd say to go and have a shag to get it out of your systems, but you'd be there all afternoon."

Katie grinned broadly.

"You can join in if it makes you feel better..."

I blushed deeply while Emma performed goldfish impressions.

"That's a lovely offer," she said when she'd regained some composure, "and don't think I wouldn't take you up on it, because I so would... It's just that we don't do poly round here, do we you dreadful pair. Now, come over here. It's time for a strictly non-sexual group hug."

So we did.

"Mmm... Boobies," I said as we squished together.

"Just you wait 'til you get pregnant, you slim cow," said Katie. "You'll be buying bras from our end of the shop."

Emma raised an eyebrow when I went quiet and blushed again, but didn't pursue the matter.

* * *

It took two of us to heave the VCR into Liz's Volvo and then back out and into the far corner of the box room. I had no idea what to do with it, but I wanted to know where it was.

That night I jackknifed up out of a restless sleep with tears streaming down my face. Katie, as light a sleeper as any parent with young offspring was already awake.

"Alix, sweetie. What's wrong? You've been crying for minutes."

"Oh God. Did I wake you? I'm so sorry. It was... It was.. Oh, it was /horrible,/" I was babbling.

"Shhh... Slow down and breathe. You're here now, ok?"

I sniffed. Katie handed me a paper handkerchief and I honked into it quietly.

"We were, um, having sex..."

"And that was a nightmare?" Katie smiled.

"No, stop. It wasn't like that, I..."

"Sorry, love. You go on," said Katie, looking worried.

"So I looked down because something felt wrong and I... I... Oh God I was male again, and it was the worst most wrong and horrible feeling. You know when something really bad happens and you get this sense of total dread in the pit of your stomach because you know nothing will ever be the same again?"

Katie nodded. "I believe I do."

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm such a complete idiot sometimes..."

"Oh, shush. It's fine. So, do you think this means anything?"

I slumped back down again and stared into space.

"I don't know. Maybe my subconscious has really got into the idea of being female, or... I don't know. It's just totally confusing."

I could feel Katie lying down and snuggling up against me. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts.

"You know I meant what I said about that VCR thing and you being male again, right?"

I turned to face her and wriggled so our breasts squashed together.

"I think I've just been handed a message by myself about that, don't you? Katie. I love you with all my heart and most other major organs. This is what I want now... God, that sounds so girly and everything."

She kissed me on the forehead.

"Well, yeah. Obviously. Now, are you good for going back to sleep?" She yawned, which set me off.

"Ah, yeah. Night-night."

* * *

"Katie... Are you asleep?"

"No. Not really," she muttered through a pillow.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lumber you with that performance."

"It wasn't your fault, sweetie." Katie sounded as awake as I felt.

"Um. You know what might work..?"

"You want to lay a demon, right?"

If you're going to fall in love with anyone, make sure it's someone who can see inside your soul. It saves an awful lot of conversation.

There was enough light to see without turning anything else on. I padded across the bedroom to the toy-drawer and retrieved the Feeldoe. I was already moist at the thought of using it with Katie, so when I half-squatted and gently pressed the bulbous end upwards, it slid into me with a tiny wet sound that was several kinds of hot. I could feel it inside me when I tensed my PC muscles, and it was strange to have to walk slightly like a man again, if only for a few steps. There was definitely some muscle-memory there, although it felt rather alien.

Katie had thrown the duvet to one side, so I carefully clambered into the bed and scooted up between her warm thighs. As I looked down to kiss her, I could see her eyes shining in the dim light.

"Are you really OK with this?" she said.

Right inside my soul.

"If you catch me crying, it'll be for what I've gained rather than lost."

"Right you are. Any chance of a fuck, poet-girl?"

She gasped when I guided the penis end of the Feeldoe into her cunt and then wiggled my hips so as to squash as many sensitive parts together as humanly possible.

I moved my hips again experimentally, and soon discovered that keeping my thighs pressed together helped keep the Feeldoe in place. I was quickly back into a familiar rhythm, although the sensation of my nipples swaying against Katie's breasts was lusciously off putting, as was the slow-burn warmth of the bulbous end of the sex-toy rubbing against some extra-sensitive spot inside my own cunt. Katie, as usual unsatisfied with passivity, slung her legs about my waist and started to move her own hips in time with mine, which just made the sensations coming from the Feeldoe even more intense.

"Ka... Katie," I gasped "I don't think I... I can keep going much..."

"Just. A. Little. More. Ooooooh... Yesssss..."

She gripped me firmly with her thighs as she orgasmed, which tipped me right over the edge.

We lay there panting for a while, breasts squashed together. I could feel her heart beating through my own ribcage.

Katie kissed my cheek gently. It felt wet. I blinked away the tears.

"So what were you crying for?"

"Sheer joy."

"Idiot." She kissed me again. "Now roll over. I shall show you what it feels like for a girl."

"I think I already know, don't you?"

* * *

That summer was utterly idyllic. Work turned into something I turned up for in the daytime, rather than the place I spent most of my time. If anyone there noticed that the shape I revealed under a widening selection of summer tops and skirts was rather well-developed for someone of my allegedly transgendered status, they didn't mention it. I don't think I would have cared if they did.

When I let on that Liz and Mike had invited the three of us to join them for a month in Brittany, most people wished me luck with a small child unused to long-distance travel. I assumed jealousy for the first half hour of the journey. After that, Jack was a nightmare. He seemed to have stored up six months of bad temper and was intent on using it all up at once. Katie and I just had to sit on either side of his child-seat in the back of the Volvo and try to distract him. Liz tried Mahler, then some spectacularly unhinged Ornette Coleman. Nothing worked. He calmed down slightly once we were on the ferry, but we were still favoured with pitying glances and one well-meant comment of 'It doesn't get any easier when they get older'. In the end, Katie told me to go and find a quiet corner so I could get some sleep. It had been a while since I'd driven on the other side of the road and she was keen that I be awake for it.

Jack fell asleep the instant we hit French soil. While in the queue to leave the ferry terminal, I fiddled with the seatbelt, trying to get it to lie in a comfortable position across my chest. A few hours later, I realised I wasn't going to come to an understanding with the thing and gave up. Jack remained asleep as we continued to trundle across France.

Our destination turned out to be a farmhouse on the outskirts of a remarkably picturesque village. There were no chaps cycling past with baguettes under their arms, but it was only a matter of time. However, there was a pool, trees to sit under, a different tree with a rope swing, an open fireplace and thankfully a bedroom suite at each end of the house, separated by several sound-deadening walls. I wandered about the place with an idiot grin on my face until Katie informed me that I could either change Jack or help unload the car.

The first couple of days were a little uncomfortable since I felt very much 'on show'. Katie and I were a very tactile couple. We also tended to wander her house nude or partially-clad. I didn't realise how much I'd closed myself off until Katie pinned me against the washing machine and had a hand up my skirt before I could protest.

"Katie!" I squeaked. "Stop that... Ah, actually, don't."

She leant against me, pressing my bum against the corner of the washing machine to make sure I felt the full benefit of the spin-cycle.

"Alix, sweetie, would you calm the hell down? Mum and dad don't have a problem with the way we are around each other. In fact right now they're convinced they've done something wrong and you're hating every second."

That put me in my place.

"Oh, Katie. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just... Sorry."

She hugged me, then stood back and made a show of slowly licking her fingers. God that was hot. Two could play at that, I thought. I wiggled out of my panties, tossed them into the pile of dirty washing then tugged my skirt back down while grinning at her.

Katie clapped slowly.

"If there's a gust of wind while we're out and you get arrested for indecent exposure, I'm going to pretend not to know you."

"Oh, suuure you are." I folded my arms and arched an eyebrow.

"Cow."

"Bitch."

"Slut."

We were almost nose to nose now. I brushed some hair away from Katie's ear and whispered "Only for you, angel."

She kissed me.

A while later, there was a cough from the doorway. Katie looked over my shoulder.

"Oh, hi mum."

I stiffened. Katie gave my bum a warning squeeze. I forced myself to relax.

"We were just going to beetle over to the next town for supplies," said Liz. "Do you two want to come along, or are you otherwise occupied?"

I turned, keeping one arm draped around Katie's waist.

"We'd love to come. Have I got time to fetch a camera?"

Luckily for all concerned, it was a still afternoon. Liz and Mike commandeered Jack so they could play at grandparents, which gave Katie and I the opportunity to explore the cobbled environs of the church and town square without letting go of each other.

We were on our way back to a cafe to meet the rest of the party when I stopped in my tracks. Katie turned and smiled.

"What's up?"

"How did I get this lucky?"

"It's not luck," she said. "You deserve every second of it."

The following morning, I wandered sleepily into the kitchen to discover I was first up. I started the coffee machine and opened the kitchen door. The morning was glorious; one of those 'Let's chuck in our jobs and move to France' days. I was wondering if I could get away with just the bikini bottom and t-shirt I had on, should I decide on a mission to the boulangerie, when Liz interrupted my train of thought.

"Wonderful morning, isn't it?"

She joined me by the door.

"And you've got the coffee on. Good girl."

I tugged on an imaginary forelock.

"We don't bite, you know," said Liz.

Oh, oops. I turned to face her.

"I'm, um, really sorry that I've been a bit crap. It's just... I think I'm still feeling my way with this family thing."

Liz hugged me and kissed my forehead.

"Shush, little one. You were doing splendidly yesterday afternoon... Oh, have I said the wrong thing?"

I blinked away the tears.

"No, no. Not at all. I think I'm ridiculously happy."

"Good. Now blow."

She handed me a wad of kitchen roll and I honked into it. I still needed to work on the ladylike business.

That afternoon, Katie and I stayed at the farmhouse while Liz and Mike went exploring. We left Jack to sleep in the shade while we covered each other in Factor-50 and then made love by the pool.

I was playing with Jack when I heard the Volvo turn into the drive. There was no way I could abandon the darling boy and run back to the pool where I'd left my clothes. I was just going to have to bus it. Just as the Volvo hove into view, Katie padded up and handed me the bikini bottom.

"Dive behind that tree. I'll look after himself."

I hauled the thing on and was half-presentable by the time the car rolled to a halt.

"Should we ring when we're nearly back next time?" said Liz.

I blushed furiously. Liz laughed.

"Oh, don't worry dear. You and Jack looked lovely. Earth mother and child. And we were always nude around Catherine when she was growing up."

"Mu-um!" It was Katie's turn to blush.

We toned it down slightly after that.

* * *

It didn't take long to fill both the memory cards we'd brought with pictures. I borrowed Katie's laptop and started it hoovering pictures off the spare card before going to the kitchen for a bottle of water. When I returned, the sodding thing had crashed. I swore and then rebooted it. When it came back, there was no sign of any of the pictures on either the laptop or the memory card. I swore at it a lot more.

Mike and Liz returned from a walk at about the time I ran out of swearwords and began to feel like bursting into tears.

"Problem?" said Mike, peering over his glasses at the screen. I took a deep breath to compose myself. Snivelling away about a computer was for other people. Especially since I worked with the damn things and especially especially given the present company.

"The bloody thing's eaten the pictures off the memory card," I said. "I could probably have a crack at recovering them myself, if I had another machine and access to Google. Probably. I don't do operating system stuff and I don't want to guess it and there were a whole set of pictures of Jack and... "

I was blinking back tears again. Shit.

Mike looked thoughtful. "If you pull the memory card and store it out of the way, we can have a look at it when we get home. You can buy the damn things everywhere; it's really not worth getting stressed about."

Liz rubbed my shoulders. "Come on, dear. Chin up. There's a bottle of wine that needs drinking and worrying about poorly-specified technology won't fix it."

Katie and Jack returned from the village as we were starting on the second bottle. I related what had happened, but she seemed more or less uninterested. Liz changed the subject as soon as she was able, after what looked like a nudge from Mike.

Over supper, we talked about going to the nearest large town before hitting the beach the day after. Perhaps I'd imagined the odd atmosphere earlier.

I followed Katie when she went to put Jack to bed. When she passed the laptop, she handed Jack to me and grabbed the computer and memory card.

"What are..?" I started.

"Shh," she said, holding a finger to my lips. "Would you get Jack settled? I'll come and kiss him goodnight in a while." With that she made her way to the far quiet end of the house.

About two hours later she returned, looking triumphant. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack and uncorked it before coming to stand next to my chair.

"Mum, dad. I'm going to drag Alix out for a moonlight wander. Could you keep an ear out for Jack until we get back?"

"Of course dear," said Liz immediately. "Is everything OK?"

"Everything," said Katie firmly, "Is utterly lovely."

She looked down at me and waved the bottle.

"Come on, Alix. A post-prandial will do us good."

We went. About five minutes later, we'd reached the centre of the village. There were people doing happy people things in the two bars, but Katie steered me towards a bench in a quieter corner. She took a good swig from the bottle and passed it to me.

"Sorry about all that," she said.

"No apology seems necessary, because I don't know what's going on."

"Oh. Did you not ever stop to wonder why someone with two terribly middle-class hackers for parents ends up as a hairdressing single mum?"

Katie was picking her words very carefully. I handed her the bottle and she took another good swig.

"Well, no," I said. "I mean, it's just... I love you and people aren't what they do and there's obviously some messy family stuff that's just sailed over my head and, oh, just assume I'm an idiot."

"I'm sorry. It is just family stuff. Look, let's finish this bottle and go and find a comfortable sofa in one of those bars, then I can tell you the whole story."

I stood and helped myself to the bottle.

"Sounds good to me. Um, unless you're going to tell me that you used to be a man or something. That would be weird."

Katie reclaimed the bottle and finished it off.

"Don't be absurd. You're the only dreadful freak in this relationship."

We found a free sofa in the second cafe and arranged ourselves on it with another bottle of wine for company. Katie ended up draped across me, with her head resting semi-comfortably on my chest.

"So did you ever grow up with people who were really good at stuff?"

She looked up at me.

"I mean... Shit. Sorry, Alix."

"Don't worry. Just carry on."

"Anyway. Mum and dad were pretty hardcore. There were dismembered computers everywhere when I was growing up, so I naturally started playing with them, which was strongly encouraged. Proud parents and all that. The problem was that neither of them could let me make my own mistakes. Ever. It was always 'Oh, Catherine. Not like that!' or 'You'd be better with one of these...'"

She looked pained at the memory and slugged back another mouthful from the wine-vases we'd mistakenly been handed instead of glasses.

"So I rebelled a bit by getting into the festival circuit and following bands and stuff, but my heart wasn't really in it because I really did like messing about with computers. My great plan was to go off to Uni and get into some computing research that mum and dad wouldn't understand. That was how I was going to show them."

Katie grinned.

"You know, that made perfect sense when I was sixteen... So, moving right along, I went off to Uni, worked really hard for the first year and then worked out that my parents weren't looking over my shoulder now. So I went completely bugfuck, basically. I dropped out, moved in with this bloke I met while working in a bar, then got a diploma in hairdressing and beauty therapy... And the very day I was awarded that diploma I discovered I was pregnant with Jack. Fuckface the father scarpered within days and I had a bit of a meltdown, so came running back to mummy and daddy, which was... fraught. I mean, they didn't actually come out and tell me that I'd blown my chance at a glittering career being patronised by twatty middle-managers, but you could cut the sense of disappointment with a knife. They just won't talk about hacking with me at all, which is, oh god Alix, it's awful. It's like it's become the elephant in the drawing room for them. I think that's why they're so keen on you..."

Katie's face was wet with tears. I wrapped my free arm around her shoulders and hugged her. She sniffed and swallowed.

"You know that memory card? The data was all still there, it's just that the directory entries were marked as deleted. Since I don't have an undelete program on that machine, I had to bash one out in Python. I mean, I love what I do; it's art and you're making people feel better about themselves, but... Say you don't hate me for being a fuckup."

I gently kissed the top of her head.

"If anything, and if it's possible, I love you more than ever," I said.

She looked up at me.

"How did I get this lucky?"

I kissed her again.

"It's not luck. We deserve every second."

We meandered back, hand in hand. At the bottom of the farmhouse drive, Katie stopped.

"You won't say anything about this, will you?"

I held her, and felt oddly masculine doing it.

"Nah, don't worry. I shall not draw attention to any elephants. Outside of wildlife parks, anyway. Although. You do know that competence is an incredible turn-on, right?"

Katie wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned back slightly to bring me into focus.

"I was aware of that, yes."

"Good. Bed?"

"Water first, then bed."

She took a few paces up the drive and then turned.

"Or we could, you know, recompile a kernel or something."

"You big tease," I said, following her.

* * *

By any measure, apart from the unexpectedly female business, I was having an incredibly lucky time of it, and even being a woman was just... Normal, bordering on good now.

I admitted as much to Emma as we chattered stereotypically over cappuccinos while an equally stereotypical pile of shopping bags littered the ground at our feet. Although much of my shopping was girly-basics - underwear, tops and the like - there were also two bags of hard-won computer bits. The spotty idiot in the shop had just been oily at first; gracelessly staring at Emma's breasts while I tried to explain what I wanted. When I'd mentioned that the parts were for my partner's computer, the condescending little git had started going on about how my partner would have to come in HIMself so I didn't buy the wrong stuff and have to bring it back. At this point I explained in great detail exactly how I was going to build a software-managed RAID box and why I was demanding a particular model of serial ATA controller, given the one he was trying to sell me was a bug-ridden piece of crap. As an extra bonus wind-up, Emma made a show of kissing me in the door of the shop. You could hear the seams of half a dozen teenage trousers groaning under the load.

It was a hot afternoon in late August and even in strappy top and floaty skirt, I was glad to be in an air conditioned cafe after our adventure in the sweaty computer shop.

Emma peered at me over the top of her sunglasses.

"So let me see," she said, and began ticking off points on her fingers. "You have a partner you love and who loves you, an adorable child, a house to live in, you all managed your first holiday together without a major meltdown and you appear to be dealing with your new gender-role swimmingly... Do you actually have anything to worry about, or are you just making a point so you can gloat at us mere mortals?"

"No, it's just... You know how when things go well or a program compiles first time and you sit there waiting for the other shoe to drop or the computer to go on fire or something?"

"I remain delightfully ignorant regarding compilers, despite Dave and your best efforts, but yes. Pray continue."

I briefly narrowed my eyes at Emma. Blokes think that they're allowed an emotional range that runs from A to D. I felt that I'd got as far as M or P recently without major incident.

"I keep thinking something's going to cock up. Like I'll have an especially choice period, get drunk and pull that sodding VCR out in desperation... You know if I end up arrested or in hospital, I'm really up shit creek?"

Emma looked confused.

"How so... Oh. Medical records?"

I nodded and slurped cappuccino.

"Can't you, you know, do some hacking or something?"

"Nah. The Gender Recognition Act is pretty straightforward stuff."

Emma held my hand across the table.

"I'm sure you'll, no, we'll work something out, angel. Now, what's really bothering you?"

I slumped and sighed. Having her as my backup mum was a curse and a blessing. She knew me far too well.

"I... Oh, hell. Promise you won't laugh."

"Absolutely not."

"I, um, want a baby," I said. You're supposed to feel better after revelations like that. I'm not sure I did yet.

"But you've already... Oh. Properly, you mean? With vomiting, stretch-marks and serious pain at the end of it?"

"Yes."

"And Jack's toxic nappies and 4am starts haven't put you off?"

"No."

Emma sat back and folded her arms.

"Without wishing to raise the spectre of the obvious, given your current attire, where is the real Alix and what have you done with her?"

"Not funny, Em."

I must have looked terribly uncomfortable, because she was back leaning on the table and squeezing my hand in an instant.

"No. Sorry, angel. It's just that you never seemed to be the breeding type. None of us were. You remember that year when everyone seemed to be getting married? There never were any follow up christenings or naming ceremonies, were there? And it's not like you were suddenly struck broody the day after I took you bra shopping that first time, so... Sorry."

I smiled and squeezed her hand. I think that was the first time I'd seen Emma on the back foot conversationally.

"I know. It's weirder than a bag of weird from Weirdy McWeird's shop of strange."

I related the Jack and breast incident. Emma nodded slowly the while.

"So what does Katie think about all of this?"

"I, um, haven't told her. I haven't worked out what I think about it yet."

Emma raised her eyebrows.

"That's a rubbish excuse and you know it. If there's a local expert, it's Katie. And she's your girlfriend for heaven's sake. She'll probably have turkey baster and selection of nice gay men lined up before you can say 'morning sickness' "

"Emma!" I shrieked. I was getting good at that.

* * *

I went on not telling Katie about the broodiness. It was stupid. As it became a bigger thing in my head, it felt harder and harder to know how to begin talking about it. So I ignored the idea and hoped that it would get bored and go away.

* * *

We had taken to walking in the park fairly regularly. One corner of it backed onto an extensive and overgrown cemetery, and the wilderness and quiet seemed to have spread into the park proper. There, we were far from huffing joggers and brightly coloured mountain bikers. I walked ahead of Katie and Jack, into the lengthening sunlight, because I wanted a picture of the pair of them. She was as gorgeous as ever in the same purple combats that she'd been wearing when we met, and a black wifebeater top. When I finished fiddling with the camera, she shaded her eyes and moved so I was directly between her and the setting sun.

"Alix, are you wearing any knickers?" she said with an evil grin.

There's a bunch of stuff you just know - breathing in and out is good and Saturday evening television will dull your soul - that sort of thing. And then there are the things that people will tell you, but you have to work out for yourself before the information sticks - mains electricity bites, other people's perl code is horrid, and that if you wear a summer dress in a light cotton fabric, it will go transparent when you least expect.

"No." I brazened it out. What was I going to do? Rush back home in the crouched position?

"And I didn't bother with a bra, either." I shook my shoulders for effect.

"That much has been obvious. Didn't you notice that jogger nearly colliding with the dog-mess bin?" Katie walked up to join me.

"Um, no. I only have eyes for you. And Jack." It was true.

"Oh, excellent answer." She circled her forearms round my waist and kissed me deeply.

When we parted some time later, it had become painfully obvious that going bra-less might have been a bad idea.

"If we don't stop I'm not going to make it home," I said, breathing heavily.

Katie was looking flushed and had a glint in her eye that meant I could look forward to a thorough and enthusiastic fucking.

"Who said anything about going home?" She had two fistfuls of my dress and I could feel the waistband and fly of her combats pressing against my stomach.

"Um, Jack?"

We looked at him. The darling boy was spark out in his pushchair and it looked like it would take an explosion in an iron foundry to wake him.

I took Katie's hand in a mock-ladylike fashion and collapsed inelegantly against the base of a handy tree. I paused, then gathered the dress up to my waist. Grass-stains were so incredibly teenage. I looked up at Katie - she was watching my performance with a smirk. I was lying there with my arse hanging out, more or less in public. I felt vulnerable, but it was also powerfully erotic.

Katie knelt between my knees and bent forward to pull my clit-hood back so she could kiss my clitoris gently. I shivered in anticipation. I had expected her to dive in with a fiery passion, but she gently nibbled, sucked and licked until I could hold back no more and whimpered loudly as I orgasmed. She responded by cupping my bum in both hands and almost bodily lifting my hips up against her mouth as she pushed her tongue into my cunt and sucked hard. It was incredible, I orgasmed again almost immediately and collapsed away from her, unable to support my own weight.

I lay there, panting, until Katie hauled me up onto very wobbly legs. My own come was smeared across her face, and I took great care in kissing and licking her clean. We walked back slowly, when my heart-rate had slowed to an acceptable level and I didn't look quite as freshly fucked. My cunt still felt incredibly slick as I walked, and the breeze evaporated the fluids on my labia and inner thighs.

Part way back I had to cling to Katie and stifle a surprised yelp. She grinned and kissed me.

"Aftershock?"

I nodded and concentrated on breathing.

"I get them too, sometimes. I think they only work when you're really into someone. Y'know, just the thought of them gets you hot..." She was looking at me with a sly smile.

"We really are completely repulsive together, aren't we?" I said.

"Completely."

She brushed some leaf-mould from my bum and I shivered and yelped again.

Jack didn't wake up until we reached the park gates. He looked grumpily at us and then the traffic that had woken him before passing out again almost straight away.

* * *

"Ready?"

"Ready. Let's knock 'em dead."

"I think that is the bride's job."

"Oh well. Let's get drunk instead." I looked about for my purse - I still hadn't got used to the things - and caught it in mid-air when Katie threw it at my head.

"Come on. We'll be late for the taxi." She sounded only slightly exasperated as she more or less pushed me out of the hotel room door and made very sure I had stashed the key-card in the vintage-looking clutch purse she'd recently aimed at me.

Emma and Dave arrived in the hotel lobby mere moments after we did. There was a very brief silence as we all took in our respective outfits before the demands for photographs began.

Dave was wearing a sixties two-button single breasted suit that Emma had found while hunting for my outfit. Had anyone made the mistake of handing him a shotgun, he would have looked like Michael Caine's bigger and scarier brother.

Emma had pulled a fifties halter-top ball gown out of a distant wardrobe, de-flounced the skirt by throwing away the petticoats and dyed her hair black so as not to match the dark purple of the dress. She looked like a Hollywood starlet about to wallop the next photographer with a brick.

Katie had gone for a little black dress and a large black hat. The lack of sleeves showed off her tattoos to wonderful effect, and I'd carefully re-shaved her undercut the night before.

I was wearing a thirties-modernist wide-legged trouser suit with a halter top and sharply tailored jacket. Katie had spent nowhere near as long as I expected weaving my hair into a French pleat while I sat and fretted. Collectively, I thought we looked like several million dollars, though there was still the voice in the back of my head trying to tell me just how badly our old Uni friends would take the change in my appearance.

"Oi. Fashionistas front and centre," called Dave. "The taxi's here."

We trooped out into the September sunshine. It struck me that the last time we'd been in a taxi together was the night I'd found out about this wedding in the first place.

* * *

We'd been sitting in our favourite corner of the ex pub cellar where Sanctuary happened, bitching about grimly dressed tradgoths and waiting for their dirge-like music to finish, when Dave returned from the bar clutching a pint for himself and bottles for the rest of us. I'd rapidly discovered that while I could still knock back the pints, the muffin-top look was so not me.

"Did you two get the invitation to Manda's wedding yet?" he said, cheerfully ignoring any party-based manners.

"Manda? Dead tall and a procession of useless boyfriends?" I said, before taking a pull from the bottle of Czech lager he'd handed me.

"That's her. Hey, didn't you have a go at joining that procession once?"

Katie raised her eyebrows. "Ooh. More stories of Alix's terrible heterosexual past? Do go on."

I attempted a look of resignation. "No, Dave. Thus far we have not been invited to that particular event. Are there any other parties or happenings you'd like to mention to which we are similarly uninvited?"

The uncomfortable expression on Dave's face meant the size and shape of the faux-pas he'd just committed had made its way through the beer.

"Oh. Ah. I'm sure your invitation will turn up tomorrow. I mean, it would have to be redirected from you old address and that's bound to take an extra day or so. It's not like her family are going to be homophobic or trannyphobic or whatever because... Oh. Shit."

"Dave. I may only be a girl now" - that earned me an elbow in the corset from Katie - "but why would Manda's family being homophobic be an issue? I haven't told any of that mob about... Oh."

Dave was looking increasingly uncomfortable. As the saying goes 'when in a hole, stop digging.'

"I, um. Manda emailed me about a month ago. She was making sure she'd got addresses for people and, um, I gave her your new name, so she emailed back asking about the 'i' thing and I kind of might have mentioned in passing that you were a girl now..."

"Uh-huh."

I slumped back as much as the corset would allow and stared at the bottle in my hands. My cleavage, pushed up and together by the corset, was in the way. My breasts heaved as I sighed, which was still utterly distracting. Katie and Emma regularly explained that the novelty would soon wear off, but I wasn't entirely sure. Not while one or other of them kept coming up with new and interesting ways of showing them off. They were obviously working on some familiarity breeding contempt effort, but...

Katie squeezed my arm. I looked up.

"Are you ok?" She sounded as worried as Dave looked.

"Oh, yeah. I'll be fine. It's just... You know."

Emma slid in beside me.

"No, I don't know. What's up? What's Dave said now?"

Dave looked hunted.

"Nothing. Introspection moment," I lied.

"If you'll forgive the allusion, bollocks," said Emma.

"I was talking about Manda... " said Dave.

Emma looked at him and then back to me.

"Oh, David. You absolute oaf. Did it also occur to you to mention that Manda sent their invitation to us because she didn't trust the mail redirection?"

Dave looked relieved and mystified at the same time. A good trick.

"She what? Why?"

"I stopped second-guessing Manda long ago - it hurt too much. Anyway, she was deep into Bridezilla territory, which made such speculation even less productive."

Emma dug in her capacious bag and withdrew an envelope that had 'Alix & Katie' scrawled on the outside and handed it to me gravely.

"Rest assured that had there been a hint of transphobia abroad, we would have pointedly refused to attend. As it is, I'm thinking nice hotel, serious dressing-up and perhaps even the odd glass of shandy. What think you two?"

Katie pounced on the envelope and extracted a sheaf of documents - embossed invitation, map, local hotels, details of the wedding-list. All very formal.

"We're totally going to this, aren't we?" she said.

I was staring at a barely perceptible vein running down my left breast. If I sucked in my stomach muscles, that breast would pull away from the corset and I thought I could follow the vein a little further. I tried to remember if it had been there before. Maybe. I refocussed on my beer, getting warm as I held it with both hands resting in my lap. My long skirt was split up both sides and revealed thighs clad in hold-ups expensive enough to actually hold up. It had taken only one unfortunate miscommunication with my best mate to kick my confidence right in its no-longer-existing bollocks.

"Earth calling Alix?" Katie waved the invitation at me. "I mean, if you think it would be a bad idea or something, we can just as well not go..."

I took another pull on my beer and gave myself a mental boot up the arse.

"We are absolutely going to this wedding, and if anyone else there has the utter lack of manners to cause a scene, I'm sure the ushers will deal with them appropriately."

* * *

The ushers, like the groom, were Guards officers. Each one seemed to be about seven feet of steely charm and spit-shined shoes. We shuffled into a pew on the bride's side of the church and looked around for familiar faces. A few people smiled and waved, but I could imagine the whispered conversations going along the lines of "That's Emma and whatshis... Dave. Right. I wonder who the other two are? D'you think they're together?"

Manda looked incredible. A mediaeval-ish corset-laced bodice and a long and straight ivory satin skirt made her look even taller than I remembered. It was all terribly traditional, even down to 'Jerusalem' being a stirring hymn but a complete pig to sing. We did ok for a bunch of atheists.

Katie handed me a paper hankie while the newlyweds were signing the register. I'm sure the way I looked at the thing and then her meant 'I'm a bloke and I don't cry at weddings' because I got a patient 'Sure. Right.' expression in return.

All I can say is praise 'Bob' for waterproof mascara, otherwise I'd have looked like a butch panda.

We milled about outside the church while the first set of photographs were taken. Manda made a bee-line in our direction as soon as she spotted us and gave me an enthusiastic hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Alix! I'm so glad you made it." She leaned in again and lowered her voice. "And you look utterly incredible. Seriously."

"Thank you. But nowhere near as incredible as you," I said.

"Well, I am the bride. It's part of the whole deal. The ushers were under strict instruction to go boot out anyone who looked better anyway."

She turned to Katie and hugged her, too.

"You have to be Katie. Alix is appalling at keeping in touch and Emma hasn't told me nearly enough about you... Yes, you, Emma. Come over here the pair of you."

There was more hugging. Then Manda grabbed my hand.

"Look, I'm going to get about ten minutes to myself today and won't remember a damn thing anyway, but are you chaps free for a spot of lunch tomorrow? I took the liberty of booking a table at the pub and... Please say you'll come? You always were the cool people and... Damn, I'm being paged. Think about it, ok?" She charged off in the direction of her new husband.

Katie looked at me, slightly shellshocked.

"Was she always like that?"

"Not as far as I remember. From what I recall, she spent most of her time hanging around the rugby club and failing to get off with any of them, because they were all scared of a woman who could match them pint for pint and knew more dirty songs than they did."

"... So, yes. She's not changed a bit," said Dave. "Calmed down, if anything."

In due course, we were herded across the village green for champagne outside the big house. Then inside for a sit-down meal, more alcohol and the speeches.

Nobody paid me a blind bit of attention. Or rather, I was asked several times where I found my outfit and about an equal number of times if I was single by the drunken types holding up the bar. At no point were there flaming torches and shouts of 'Witch! Er, Trannie! Burn the trannie!' A small voice of reason in the back of my head was triumphantly telling me that I should bloody well relax and enjoy it while I could. After all, if I was happy enough in my comfort zone of being with Katie and going to work, it was time to stop caring about what other people might think and have a laugh while the laughing was good. I stood up and turned to Katie.

"Are you dancing?"

"Are you asking?" She was grinning from ear to ear. How did I get this lucky?

"I'm asking," I said, grinning like an idiot as well.

"Yes. And about bloody time too." She grabbed my hand and towed me to the dancefloor.

* * *

Much, much later the four of us were to be found putting a tin lid on the evening in the hotel bar.

"Why Manda?" Katie regarded me owlishly.

"Beats me. Em?"

"Whuh?" Emma was massaging some life back into one foot. "Oh. Hated Amanda, sounded too prissy she said. And so not a Mandy, so Manda it was. An' you can say it when you're drunk. Which we all seem to be."

"Hurrah for our team!" Dave finished his pint and wobbled upright. "I think I'm full, so I'm going to go and crash. You coming along, Em?"

She waved a glass half-filled with gin & tonic. "As soon as I deal with this."

Katie yawned. "I'm going to follow Dave, I think. No, not like that. Honestly."

She and Dave tottered off, leaving Emma and I contemplating the remains of our alcohol. She patted the space on the sofa where Dave had been, so I obligingly fell into it. We slumped together and clinked our glasses.

"You know," said Emma, staring pointed at her glass, "I was convinced that this time the silly sod would finally be overtaken by the spirit of the occasion and, you know..."

I didn't know. What was she on about? Occasion? Wait...

"Oh, Emma. I had no idea."

I slumped a little and Emma slid gracefully down my front and ended up curled sideways on the sofa with her head in my lap. Her gin remained half-full. I started stroking hair away from her face. She sniffed.

"I know I'm just being silly and everything. I mean, they're a ritual of the patriarchy and so many people I know have got divorced after happily living together for ages and it's just cultural programming and... I've got this design for a wedding dress and stuff. I've had it for years and not shown anyone. I did the bridesmaid's dresses, too..."

She laughed. Once.

"I mean, now I could ask you to be a bridesmaid. How cool's that?"

Right then, I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do more than be Emma's bridesmaid. I was fuzzy on the details, but it probably involved dressing up, champagne, cake and more champagne. Did bridesmaids get hats?

"Emma, I'd absolutely love to be your bridesmaid. In fact, I shall go upstairs now and make young Dave aware of certain facts."

"No!" Emma squeaked, "I mean, you're lovely for offering and I so totally do want to have you on bridesmaiding duty, it's just that the silly bastard's got to work it out for himself."

"Or you could ask him," I said.

"Um. Yes."

Emma struggled upright, dug a tissue and mirror out of her bag, blew her nose, checked her face and took a large swig of G&T.

"God. Just listen to me. Anyway. What got into you for the latter half of the evening? You were acting like someone slipped you a disco biscuit," she said.

I got the impression that that part of the conversation was over.

"I worked out that I was the only one giving a shit about me being an ex-bloke and decided it was about time I stopped letting it rule my life," I said.

"I'm jolly glad to hear it. Three cheers for finally getting some sense into that undeniably pretty head of yours," she said.

"Ta very much I'm sure."

Emma considered for a moment.

"You two really are properly in love, aren't you?"

I sat up a bit.

"Yes. It's been a very long time since I felt this way about anyone."

"Oh? And who was the last lucky person?" Emma smiled in a gossip-collecting manner.

"Well, you, obviously."

I stopped far too late.

"Oh. Shit. You were never supposed to know that..."

She leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

"I... Wow. Without wishing to make light, how long have you held that particular candle?"

I groaned in mock horror.

"What? Oh. Right." Emma sat back and eyed me over the rim of her glass.

"Since, um, since you moved in that autumn. I don't remember... No, that's a lie. I remember it vividly. You and Dave had gone off to the union bar, and I was going to turn up later after I'd done some work, but I fell asleep and you two coming back woke me up and I just knew then that you'd got on really well and I cared for the both of you too much to fuck things up. So I just bottled it up and, well, that was that. I used to think a lot about how such a small thing could alter your life so much. What if I'd just gone 'sod it' and gone to the bar with you..."

A tear dropped off the end of my nose. This time, I grovelled in my own purse for a handkerchief and wiped the rest of them away.

Emma was silent for a long time. I started babbling.

"Have I just fucked things up really badly? I'm sorry..."

She waved me into silence.

"That's a huge load to carry for so long on your own. You silly sod. You silly, silly sod. Cow. Oh, come here."

She dragged me upright with her, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me enthusiastically. She tasted of gin & tonic.

We looked at each other from close range. I could barely focus.

"That was... I don't know what that was. A moment between friends. Now don't you ever ever hold in anything like that again, understand?" said Emma.

I nodded carefully.

"Now, you shall go to Katie who you love, and I shall go to Dave, who I love. In the morning we all will have hangovers the size of Belgium, but we will do anything for each other, won't we?"

"Assblutely. Absolutely. Shit, time I was in bed. Need a hand up those stairs?"

The hotel stairs were only slightly less impossible to manage for two giggling idiots who were arm in arm all the way to their respective rooms.

* * *

The pub lunch was a trifle subdued, unsurprisingly. In some odd form of hungover synchronicity, we were all wearing jeans in various flavours of arse-hugging, though it was probably just dressing-up backlash. Manda was of course consumed with curiosity, but doing her best not to let on. Her new husband, Stuart, was a lovely chap, even if he was an officer. I could quickly see that they were well suited.

After a fortifying roast lunch I felt brave enough to take Manda up on her offer of a tour round the village. We were halfway round the churchyard by the time she ran out of headstones of ancestors to point out. The conversation drifted after that; we were agreeing about the annoyance of seatbelts and breasts when I stopped and looked her in the eye.

"Manda. The last time we met, I was Alex with an 'e'. Now I'm Alix with an 'i'. If you have any questions, now would be a good time."

She stopped and sat on a memorial. If I'd been the late Dr. Arbuthnot Tonks, I would have let her park her splendid arse on me at any time.

"Are you happy?" she asked, looking up and shading her eyes since the sun was behind my head.

Wow. You never expect the simple questions. I'd been expecting long and complicated versions of 'Why?', 'How?' or 'When?' but... 'Happy?' That involved thinking rather than emitting socially acceptable lies.

I sat beside her and considered. Dr. Tonks was getting good value.

"Yes. I am. And I think it's mostly your fault."

Manda peered at me over her sunglasses.

"Really? I'm pleased that you think that, but how so?"

"Last night, I was expecting... I don't know what I was expecting. I think like just now I was expecting you to be insanely curious about all of this," I waved a hand at my body. "But no-one gave - is giving - a bugger, obviously because it was all about you two last night, so I just felt, I don't know, free to be me finally... And it's stuck."

God. That managed to sound both gushy and lame at the same time.

She smiled. A dazzling thing that seemed to burn away a good amount of hangover.

"That's the loveliest thing I think anyone could say. Thank you. You guys always were the cool ones and I'm honoured that you..."

"No, I'm the honoured one. You're right, I'm rubbish at keeping in touch and yet years later you pick me and my strange mates to share all this? I mean, that was the first wedding I've cried at..." I stopped staring out toward the pub and turned to face her.

"You were like that as a man, you know," she said.

"Like what?"

"Absolutely open once you got to know someone. Don't ever lose that."

Manda stood up.

"Come on, I've got a tithe barn and a village hall to show off before you all go."

* * *

We gathered around the hire-car, parked behind the pub next to Manda's battered Land Rover.

"What's the first thing you're going to do when you get back?" said Stuart.

I don't think he meant it, but it sounded like he wanted us to do something dangerously heroic.

"Email you and Manda with all our addresses," said Dave. There was the ghost of a 'sir!' hanging in the air.

"Very good. Carry on."

Manda prodded Stuart and belmed at him. He looked confused and then horrified in quick succession.

"Oh, Christ. Sorry. I was doing it again, wasn't I?"

Dave laughed. "No bother. I get like that with Emma sometimes."

"Yes, and you get more than a prod in retaliation," she growled.

"Um... " Said Katie. "I don't know what you childless types think, but I'm missing Jack and I'd rather like to get home to rescue him from mum."

Stuart was galvanised.

"Yes, of course. Come on Manda. Time we were packing anyway. Email us and we'll come and descend on you filthy city types when we're back."

We piled into the car. I was piloting on the way back and had to concentrate on avoiding tractors and horses until we hit the main road.

"Do you think they will? You know, email and stuff," I said.

"Yes, I think so," said Emma from behind me. "She kept banging on about how we were the cool people at uni. Strange girl."

"You got that too? Must be true then."

* * *

In November, work packed me off on a course at the other end of the country. Someone further up the tree had decided that they needed documentary evidence of local Python clue, and I was the lucky winner selected to go sit in an over-airconditioned 'training suite' and try not to fall asleep during descriptions of the wonders of someone else's favourite toy language.

Predictably I was the only woman in the room. Equally predictably, half the rest of the inmates looked me right in the chest most of the time and the instructor assumed I was an idiot until I fixed the classroom network while he tried hard to stare down my T-shirt. I was on the phone to Katie every night relating the daily catalogue of testosterone because I would rather have been dead in a ditch than accept any of the heavy-handed invitations for a curry from the frankly smelly Neanderthals.

"They're not all like that," said Katie patiently, after I'd whined for ten minutes. "I mean, you weren't, according to Emma."

That brought me up sharp. Most of the times when I'd considered myself a bit suave rushed through my head in a terrible procession of cringeworthiness.

"God, Katie. I've been banging on like some stereotype."

"The irony in that statement is not lost, sweetie. But they do say that there's no-one more anti smoking than an ex-smoker."

"That's a disturbing simile on many levels," I said.

"It is? Oh... Oh God. Alix, you're totally disgusting."

"If I am, it's because I have an excellent teacher."

"Flattery will get you into all sorts of trouble, dear. Speaking of which, I'm going to crawl into bed now and think mucky thoughts about you."

I could hear Katie yawning down the telephone.

"I miss you too. I love you," I said.

"I love you, too. G'night."

* * *

I looked around the classroom with fresher eyes the following morning. The sweaty shirt contingent still seemed to be trying to discern the colour of my underwear through the material of my blouse (Black satin and unpadded, losers), however the guy to my immediate right was wearing an Arcwelder tour shirt, which for want of other clues made me well-disposed toward him. We fell to chatting over coffee. He could look me in the eye and confessed to missing his girlfriend. It also transpired that we'd probably been at the same gigs in the past and he had an impressive set of software development war-stories. It was, in fact, just like having an adult conversation.

Lord. When did I become so down on the male half of the species? I looked across at the instructor to see if the day was going to kick off any time soon and caught one of the sweaties pointedly not looking at my chest again. Oh, I remember now.

I surreptitiously peered at the scribbled nametag in front of Mr. Arcwelder's course notes; Nick.

"I have the same problem," he said from behind me.

Damn. Not surreptitious enough. Problem? People stared at his chest too?

"You're surrounded by midwestern indie-rock fanboys?" I asked, confused.

"Not as far as I can tell. No, I mean I have a problem with names."

"Oh. Right." Please don't ask me to explain my previous answer, I thought. "It's a geek thing," I continued. "Names fall out of your head, but email addresses are stuck forever."

Nick nodded and smiled.

"True that. Nameservers, too. Oh, hello. Looks like we're under starter's orders, finally."

I grabbed my coffee and prepared to feign interest in more Python.

* * *

I was half-way through a lunchtime baguette when Nick arrived to hover uncertainly with a tray. I could feel the massed stares of the sweaties as they waited for me to tell him to sod off. I waved the half-baguette at the empty chair; I'm such a classy bird. Nick sat down and the sweaty-talk probably returned to cars, sport and women with large breasts.

"So, umm..." Nick began.

Oh Lord he's going to ask me out. I mean, not in a smutty way because we're both attached and stuff and anyway I spent long enough as a man to ever want to sleep with one. Oh God don't think of him with an erection you'll never be able to eat that yogurt for heaven's sake just listen to yourself you've only been stuck in a hotel room for a week why don't you...

"... tonight? I'm told it's not too bad."

"Yes. Um, what? Where? Sorry, I was..." I jabbered to a halt.

"Gastropub. Isn't that an awful word? Anyway, it's about a half-mile thataway, keeps an impressive selection of real ale and, um, if you'd like to come along this evening..." he said.

I smiled. Nick looked relieved.

"Yes," I said. "Eight in the hotel bar?"

"Works for me. I'm, um, planning to walk there and back, so..."

"Stout shoes, a thermos, mackintosh and a whistle. Got it."

* * *

Well, ok. Maybe not. Actually black turtlenecked jersey dress-thing, opaque tights, knee boots and a wide purple belt. I twisted and stared at myself in the mirror over one shoulder. Was this too dressy? Did it say 'Going for a pint with a colleague' or 'Coming back to my place?' As a compromise, I tried a light touch with the warpaint and shrugged into my old leather jacket, which looked sexier still. Bugger.

Nick only boggled slightly when I arrived in the bar. There was also a distinct rustle of sports-section from the sweaty corner of the bar, but when I glanced over they were all suddenly engrossed in the rugby. Or something.

"I'm glad I put on a clean shirt now," he said, grinning.

"I can go back and put on some jeans if, um... " I was only half joking.

"If it makes you feel more comfortable, but please don't feel you have to on my account."

I thought about it. No. I was becoming rather keen on dressing up properly.

"Sod it," I said. "Let's go and drink some beer."

* * *

We drank some beer. That was chased down by a wild boar burger with fennel relish or something, which followed by more beer as we worked our way down the real ale list chalked on the board by the bar.

I may have been slightly drunk.

We tottered back to the hotel, arm in arm. Mostly to avoid falling over, but also because it was warmer that way. I decided I rather liked having Nick's arm around my waist and I began to wonder what it would be like to kiss him, We shambled to a halt outside my bedroom door and I turned to thank him for an ale-filled evening. He leaned down to kiss me. It was lovely, so I joined in. He leaned against me; I could feel his mobile phone pressing against my leg. Wait. That's not a mobile. I wondered what someone else's penis would feel like. There was only one way to find out. I pulled away from him and fished in my bag for the door keycard. He disappeared into the bog while I flopped onto the end of the bed and struggled out of my boots and tights.

The snogging continued in earnest. Nick was slowly working my dress up toward my waist, until I unzipped his jeans and wrapped my hand firmly round his penis. If felt familiar, but distant. Like the rooms of a house that you'd lived in a long time ago. I fell back on the bed with Nick more or less on top of me. I felt bloated and tried not to look at the lamp on the ceiling that was starting to describe lazy circles. I felt him pull my knickers to one side and wanted to tell him to be less rough, since I rather liked them, but it was all happening miles away and I was thinking hard about not being ill. He prodded at my cunt with his penis; I was wet enough that he slid right in. I squealed involuntarily. It did feel very nice, but he was leaning on my bladder and I wanted him to stop before I puked or peed myself.

"Oh God, I'm going to..." I started.

He must have got the message that I was going to vom because he stiffened, stopped thrusting, then lurched sideways into a heap on the bed. I lay there with one eye closed in an effort to make the nausea go away. I'd mostly succeeded when I felt something leaking out of my cunt.

Oh. Jesus. Fuck.

I minced sideways into the bathroom, hauled off my remaining clothes, then regurgitated what felt like all the real ale in the world.

The slam of the hotel room door woke me. I was curled round the base of the toilet and feeling very cold. I dragged myself into the shower; the parts of my crotch that weren't sticky felt crusty as I moved. I stood under the shower for a very long time before I felt together enough to scrub myself clean.

* * *

I opened one eye very carefully. I could sense that I was going to be hungover, but had no idea how bad it was going to be. Surprisingly low key, it seemed. I opened the other eye and peered carefully over the edge of the bed. There was a trail of towels leading back to the bathroom. So I did end up having a shower last night. I lay there and poked at the edges of the blank spot between leaving the pub last night and now. Nothing. I sat up slowly and looked about for my clothes. There were my boots, with my tights balled untidily into the top of the left one. I craned my head to see another lump in the bathroom sink. Jesus. Was I a classy bird or what?

Anyway. I had a train to catch and Katie & Jack would be waiting at the other end.

I was brushing my teeth when I remembered Nick leaning in to give me a goodnight kiss. I cringed at the memory. Katie would get a laugh out of my filthy heterosexual experimentation.

I was halfway home when the rest of the night fell out of the overcast sky and thudded back into place. I desperately blinked back the tears and stared fixedly out of the window. I didn't want the people around me knowing anything was up. I glanced sideways at the shadowy reflection of the miserable drunken whore. The two-timing cow looked right back; pale and puffy-eyed. Serves the useless bitch right, I thought. Give her a loving and adult relationship and the slut will just fuck it up the first chance she gets. Now all her friends will hate her, and rightly so. The only thing the grim slag can do is pack her bags and slip away to find a place amongst her own kind.

I was a hollow model of myself when I got off the train. Katie was standing back from the crush with Jack in his pushchair. I kept telling myself to hold it together. Don't fuck up any further. Not yet, anyway. But there was another voice in my head; 'See the way she looks at you? She can tell. You don't deserve anyone that good, you filthy slut. Confess now. It'll be easier.'

Katie hugged me, then held me at arm's length.

'She can tell. She can tell.'

"Dear lord, you look terrible. Have you been drinking with the straight boys?"

'Oh god what does she know?'

"I, um, yes. Look, I..."

She hugged me again.

"Oh, Alix. I was joking when I suggested it. You tried to match someone pint for pint, right?"

I nodded.

"You are a complete idiot sometimes.Come on, let's get you home. You've got the weekend to recover and I've missed your lovely body."

* * *

I coped, as usual, by throwing myself into my work and using that as an excuse to think about anything else.

It even worked, for a while.

A few Sundays later, I tottered down to breakfast. Katie was feeding Jack. She looked up to make sure that I wasn't a rubbish burglar.

"You're late."

I yawned.

"I'm sorry. Crap Java. Fixed now."

"No. I mean your period's late. You should be a complete bitch and mainlining Green & Black's by now..."

There was a horrible pulse as my stomach tried to make a break for my feet, and I felt a sickly lurch. No, I really was going to puke. I scuttled for the downstairs bog.

"Morning sickness?" Katie smirked when I returned.

I tried to smile, but she saw right through me.

"Sorry Alix, bad joke," she said, and hugged me.

* * *

I bought a pregnancy testing kit Monday lunchtime and locked it and myself into the toilet furthest from my department.

"Manda?"

"Hi Alix. Good to hear from you. What's up?"

"Can I ask a massive favour?"

"I can't say 'no' now, can I? Name it."

"Do you have a cottage or mansion-wing I can stay in for a while?"

"Of course. No problem. Um. Should I ask why?"

"I'd, um, rather not say right now. Sorry."

"Oh. Well. If you're sure. Um, what time should we expect you?"

"About nine tonight?"

"Shit me. Right. See you then."

* * *

I am such a horrible geek that I set one of my work computers to email Katie when I was safely on the train. I'd left my mobile behind, too. I carried nothing but a medium-sized rucksack and a family-sized pit of despair.

Manda, being far from thick, was waiting at the station.

"You don't keep a car and the last train's at quarter-to. Bit of a coincidence you turning up at nine, so..." She fiddled the Land-Rover into reverse.

"Thanks, Manda," I said. "This is all a bit more melodramatic than I'm used to."

She looked across at me while waiting for a BMW to turn right out of the car-park.

"Uh-huh. So, in once sentence, what's going on?"

I stared out of the window. I'd been doing that a lot.

"Got drunk. Shagged some random bloke. Pee-test positive."

I made it sound like a bullet-pointed presentation.

"Oh crap. I take it Katie's gone non-linear and pitched you out?"

"Probably. I sent her an email this evening."

Manda's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

"Christ. You're not handling this very well, are you?"

"Well, I've never been pregnant before," I said.

Manda glared at me.

"That's not quite what I meant."

I hadn't got anything useful to say about that, so I stared out of the window some more. A few minutes later we crested the hill above Manda's village. Had it been in black and white, it would have looked like an Ealing Comedy; the sort of twee England that never really existed. Manda pulled the Land-Rover into a gateway and turned the engine off.

"I'm sorry how I came across. I'm really not angry with you for screwing up. I'm just, I don't know, surprised. I mean, I watched you and Katie together the other month and you were like the perfect couple. Look, I'll help in any way I can, but I have to say that I think you really need to talk to Katie very soon."

I sniffed and nodded.

"Thanks. I know. I just... need some time to think. God. That's so Hollywood."

* * *

Manda parked outside a cottage that seemed two-thirds human scale. There was a kitchen warmed by a fire-breathing Rayburn, and a tiny front room off that. Upstairs there was a single bedroom and a modern bathroom obviously carved out of what had been the second bedroom. I coveted the Rayburn immediately.

She poked about for a bit, demonstrating where useful objects were likely to be found. I sat quietly by the Rayburn and roasted myself. She'd either make her excuses and leave, or make her excuses and stay.

Manda straightened and brandished a bottle at me.

"Oh look. Wine," she deadpanned.

I grinned. Actually, company felt like a good idea. Assuming company knew what it was letting itself in for,

"And you've found two glasses. How convenient."

Manda heaved open the bottle and poured two generous goblets.

"To impending motherhood and running away from stuff," she said.

I took a long swig. The easy option would have been to go someplace where no-one knew me, wave a credit-card at a private clinic, then pretend nothing had happened. Or deal with it in my lunch hour. This was not the easy option, but it was the one I had chosen.

I saluted Manda with my glass.

"I deserve that. I want this baby, though."

There. Said it. Out loud and everything.

She put her glass down and inspected me.

"I have a question."

"Yes?"

"If, um, you're a TS or whatever, how are you pregnant? If you'll forgive the crudity, the plumbing just ain't there, dear."

"A good point. There's a straight answer, surprisingly."

I told her about the VCR.

Manda tipped the remains of the bottle into our glasses.

"Ha. Empty. That's no good."

She retrieved a fresh bottle.

"So I'm going to enumerate some salient points here, purely for dramatic effect you understand. Not because we've been drinking. No."

I nodded, not soberly at all.

"You more-or-less accidentally transform yourself into the dead spit of Emma Peel, only have a minor freak-out, tell your work it's all kosher, embark on a quite repulsively couply-couply lesbo relationship with a single parent, sashay hither and yon in a variety of dresses, skirts and presumably figure-hugging tops..."

She paused.

"There have been figure-hugging tops, haven't there?"

I nodded again. Just stick me on the parcel shelf of your car.

"And now you have fallen pregnant in the sort of grimly quotidian manner that is the staple of tabloid problem pages the world over."

I was still nodding.

"Yet you have had this alleged magical VCR in your box room the entire time, so it would have cost you little more than one off the wrist to return to being, um, you again, right? I put it to you, young Alix, that this is exactly what you wanted and you have no intention of going near that box of tricks again."

I stopped nodding.

"Um," I said.

She was right of course. I couldn't imagine life with Katie any other way. Oh. Oh God. Katie...

I wept. Quietly and steadily, as if I were full of something damp and it was just overflowing everywhere. At some point, Manda joined me on my side of the table and held me. Eventually I ran out of steam.

"Katie," I said from the depths of her shoulder. "I have to call Katie to find out how much she hates me."

Manda stroked hair away from my face.

"Already in hand. I texted her from the Landie."

"Oh."

I couldn't find the energy to be happy or angry or much of anything. Partly because I just felt wrung out, partly because the wine had made everything far away and someone else's problem. I wondered, distantly, if I was getting other people to make my decisions for me. That would be rubbish.

I pulled away from Manda and blew my nose in a wad of kitchen roll.

"What time is she turning up? I should get ready."

"It sounds like the entire clan is descending for lunchtime tomorrow. I think you scared the hell out of several people. You certainly scared me," she said, rearranging her top so my snot and tears didn't show so much.

I sniffed.

"Sorry. I just..."

I gave up and shrugged.

"Really, really sorry. I am. Totally," I said.

Manda squeezed my hand.

"Save the grovelling for tomorrow. You'll need it, I think. Anyway, we have a bottle to finish."

I blinked owlishly. I was drunker than I thought.

"Are you sure that's safe?"

"Totally. Only one freak-out per bottle, and you've had yours. It'll be my turn soon. Just don't ask me what it costs to repair half the houses in a village."

"Oh. Much?"

Manda sloshed more wine into our glasses.

"I said not to ask," she growled. "But since you have, yes. Much. Such much you wouldn't believe."

* * *

In the morning I walked up to a small coppice on the hill above the village. It was surrounded by a stone wall that had benches let into it to allow commanding views and/or sheltered resting. Ostensibly, I'd gone up there to burn off the wine. The windswept loneliness of the place also suited my inner drama-queen, who was less inner by the day. I like to think that I lost track of time, but I was probably still trying to hide or run away, because my space-staring was interrupted by someone flopping down next to me on the stone bench. I glanced sideways, startled. Katie. She looked... pale and distant. As if I were someone she didn't really know.

"So what happened?"

I told her. Short, controlled sentences.

"I think I see," she said after a while. "It was just fucking drunken stupidity. Emphasis on the fucking, there. So I guess I can't be too angry with you for that because you've never had to deal with drunken men before, and, well, been there done that bought the maternity wear. The thing that really hurts is that you chose to just fuck off out of it and leave everyone who cares about you wondering what the hell they've done to deserve that."

I started leaking snot and tears again.

"So I don't know what to do. No-one actually thinks I should let you get away with this bollocks, but I'm too fucking angry to think straight and I love you to pieces and I want to... Aaagh!"

She leaned forward, covered her face with her hands and made sobbing noises.

I had no idea how much seeing that could hurt.

I reached out to touch her shoulder, expecting her to flinch away. Instead she turned and half smiled at me, As if we were... us again. Then she buried her head in my shoulder and wept.

Some time later, we both stopped and stared at each other, red-eyed.

"I still really need to think about this," said Katie.

I nodded. I didn't want to say anything because it would come out stupid and annoying, but sometimes stupid questions have to be asked.

"How long... I mean, is there still..?"

Katie stared at the patch of bench between us.

"I don't know. A week? I have to work out... Let the anger drain away and see what's left? That sort of thing. It's up to you, though. You can't just walk away from people like that... If only because it proves Julia right."

That was low. I stiffened, gathering my thoughts for a swift-ish answer. I had my reasons, they were... Oh. Bloody hell.

"I couldn't begin to speculate," I said carefully. "Where someone might get the idea that running away from people is a good strategy for dealing with your problems. Although I'd probably start by blaming the parents. Learned behaviour and all that."

Katie favoured me with another half smile.

"By Jove, I think she's got it."

"Why can't a woman be less like a man in this case, though," I said.

Katie's laugh sounded like a fish barking. Once.

She stood and looked around.

"I should go. You need to work some things out on your own, but to answer your first question, there's still an 'us'."

She leaned forwards and touched my belly.

"All four of us."

I watched her stride down the hill towards the village. A week. I could handle that. The solitude would do me good. Some 'me' time, as the Sunday colour sections had it. An opportunity to stop and feel... distinctly queasy. I scrambled up onto the wall, leaned over and vomited at the nearest tree. How the hell was I going to cope with being pregnant?

I was going to be someone's...

I turned back towards the village.

"I want my mum," I told the world.