Finally...

The Boss - Part 8 — Resolution.

The nurses asked her to be quiet and Debbie visibly shrank back as her mother came into the waiting room. “The hospital called me as soon as Nicholas was admitted. What happened?”

Without thinking, Debbie replied, “Maggie said that she complained of stomach pains and then passed out and collapsed in the office. She was brought to A & E and the admitting doctor did a quick scan and whisked her off to theatre.”

Sarah Latham was almost incandescent with rage. “What do you mean; ‘SHE’? Is he still dressing as a girl? I thought we’d beaten that out of him when he was a child. As far as your father and I are concerned, he asked for everything he got, especially parading around at school like some little queer.”

Before Debbie could even work out an answer, a man in theatre scrubs emerged from a corridor. “Deborah Latham?” She nodded, and he said, “I’m Doctor Maxwell. Whoever called for an ambulance might well have saved your sister’s life. I think we caught the problem just in time. But do you know why she was wearing men’s clothes?”

Debbie’s mother raised her voice again. “Will you stop referring to my son as female? Of course he’s wearing men’s’ clothes; he’s a man, for goodness sake! I can’t understand why he ever wanted to be a girl anyway, it’s sick and perverted; it’s unnatural.”

“Are you her mother?”

Sarah was incensed. “Yes, of course I am! I should know my own son! And I keep telling you; he’s a man!”

Debbie said, acidly, “You didn’t know your children at all.”

Doctor Maxwell sighed. “I’ve got news for you; that person is intersexed, but mainly female. She has a full set of female innards, including ovaries. She has just started menstruating but, we suspect, is infertile. Who sewed up her vagina?”

There were a few moments of silence; then Debbie asked, “W… What do you mean?”

“I suspect that the stomach pains were caused by the onset of ovulation. There was nowhere for the womb lining to go as someone had sewn up her vagina. Without prompt medical attention, she might have died.”

Debbie was in shock. “That was her first period?” she asked, barely audibly. Then you could almost see the cogs whirring in her head. She spoke quietly, but everyone heard. “That time she was in hospital when she was a toddler…” She turned on her mother; she spoke quietly, but everyone heard the venom in her voice. “You … butchered her?”

I managed, “My first period started when I was twelve years old.”

Debbie said, “Mine was at about ten, but Nikki’s twenty seven years of age for goodness sake!”

Doctor Maxwell explained. “The human body is a strange and complex machine; there’s a lot that we don’t know. Menstruation can sometimes be delayed, and brought on by a range of factors. Was she suffering from stress?”

“Of course not, he’s a man,” Debbie’s mother insisted, “He doesn’t know what stress is.”

Debbie countered, “Mother, you have no idea how much stress she suffered. You knew that she was raped and bullied at school; I don’t suppose she’s ever forgotten that. If rape isn’t stressful, I don’t know what is.”

Both Debbie and Doctor Maxwell looked at Sarah Latham. Their expressions demanded an explanation.

“A decision was made when Nicholas was born; as he had a penis, the girl bits were sewn up and he was registered as a boy. Perhaps if we’d known that he had ovaries, we’d have had them removed; then we’d not have this problem now, and he would have grown up as the son we want….” Then she realised what she’d said and her face went a bright red, almost as though she’d been caught with her hand in the sweet tin.

Debbie looked at her mother and spat out, “You disgust me! Nikki and I always knew that she was female, and she told you often enough! But you wanted a son, so you had her butchered to try and make her into one! Would you have done the same to me if you thought you could get away with it? All you and Daddy would do was to beat her into submission. You did nothing when she was raped; no wonder she’s never had a relationship and will never trust a man. I think you’d better go before I think up something that will put you in prison. I don’t suppose a charge of attempted manslaughter would stick but, as a lawyer, I’m sure that I could come up with something appropriate. Now get out of my sight!”

The doctor said, “That wasn’t a penis; that was an enlarged clitoris; the fact that her urethra was in the wrong place didn’t change what it was. We’ve had the initial blood test results as well. She has XX chromosomes so, birth anomaly or not, she is female; physically and legally female. No doctor should ever have done anything that could have endangered her life. I’ll find out who it was and they will be investigated by the General Medical Council — if they’re still practicing, they’ll be struck off. And if, as it looks, you colluded in any illegal procedure, you will face prison. Now I’ve another patient to deal with.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

Doctor Maxwell returned to the operating theatre after dropping his bombshells, and left Sarah Latham muttering about someone “turning her perfect son into a woman.”

That was the only time that I ever saw Debbie lose her temper.

“Get out, you...Bitch!” She screamed at her mother, and tried to throw herself across the room at the shocked woman.

It took all of us to restrain her; if we’d let her go, she’d probably have put her mother in hospital — or the mortuary.

“You almost killed my sister!” she flung at her mother. “Get out! I never want to see you again!”

Sarah Latham was escorted from the hospital by two burly security guards, having been told that she’d lost both her children. Another couple of hours went by; finally a nurse appeared, and spoke to Debbie.

“Your sister has been moved to a high dependency unit. If you’re quiet, you can visit for a few minutes when she comes round from the anaesthetic. She’ll be staying in hospital for a few days for observation.”

It was the day after Nikki was rushed into hospital and Debbie and I sat by her hospital bed. Debbie told me that she’d started processing the paperwork for a change of gender. Doctor Maxwell had provided a letter detailing what he’d found, what he’d done and why. Funny that he took so long to deliver and explain it; I didn’t think that Debbie was that slow.

Debbie asked, “Good evening, Miss Nicola Jane Latham; how are you today?”

Nikki smiled weakly as she responded to our question. “That sounds so good after all this time. Anyway, in addition to the fact that I’ve a tube coming from an opening that was in a different place yesterday morning, I’ve an enormous sense of relief that what I’ve felt all these years has a medical basis. Doctor Maxwell told me everything this morning.”

Debbie blushed as she said, “Yes; he’s very kind and helpful.”

I smiled and took Nikki’s hand. I said, tentatively, “Nikki, I’ve been thinking a lot recently. I don’t have the fastest brain on the planet, but you were never very good at hiding your feelings, were you?”

“No, and neither were you,” then she burst out crying.

I squeezed her hand. “You spoke with your boss, Simon, isn’t it?”

She nodded and said, “He told me that “I should think seriously about my future with the company”, whatever that means.”

“Yes, but that was when everyone at GSD thought you were a man. At first, when I found out, I thought you just wore women’s clothes for the thrill of it; it never occurred to me that this was your true self. You’ve turned all my preconceived ideas on their head, and made me realise that much of what I believed was simply something with which to keep the world at bay; to keep me safe, if you like. It’s suddenly dawned on me that we need to decide what we really want out of life, and go for it. Life’s too short to live according to other people’s petty rules and wants. I know I’m a fine one to talk, but ask Debbie and Cathy; I confided in them and feel all the better for it. I’ve spent more than ten years frightened of my own shadow, because of something that happened to me when I was younger. You and I aren’t that much different in some ways. We were both at the mercy of those who were supposed to love us unconditionally — but didn’t; they only loved us on their terms. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this, it’s that we need to decide what’s important and just go for it. If Simon won’t help, go straight to John Andrews.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?

She was silent for a while, obviously thinking, then she said, “Anyway, assuming that the company accepts me, what would the customers think?”

I sighed. “Look, Nikki; you’re female. You have a female body and maybe the residue of a birth abnormality. You can’t tell me that Simon Hughes, or even John Andrews, can or will discriminate against you because of the way you were born, even if they wanted to? It’s against the law for a start and I don’t think Debbie would allow it. It goes against everything I’ve heard about why John Andrews set up the company in the first place. And I’m sure that the customers would understand. After all, you’re the same person, aren’t you? You’ve lived a lie for years; it’s time now to do something about it. And do you really believe that the customers haven’t worked out that you’re at least androgynous? Some probably think you’re gay.”

Nikki winced.

“You’re not a gay male, are you?”

Debbie supported my argument. “You’re right, Jackie, in more ways than one.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She turned to face me. “What did you tell me in the office when you came to see me?”

I recalled the conversation almost word for word. I quietly offered, “I…I said that was drawn to Nick’s gentle nature when he interviewed me, and was fascinated beyond all reason.”

“And at the first dinner party, were you fascinated beyond all reason by Nikki Latham?” Debbie enquired.

“Y… Yes,” I replied, in a small voice, “I couldn’t get her out of my mind”.

“And Nikki; what did you tell me about Jackie?”

Nikki’s face crumpled and she dissolved into tears. “I love her.”

I was speechless; I just sat with my mouth open.

“What are you going to do about it?” Debbie asked, looking at both of us in turn, and covering our hands with hers. “Are you both going to spend the next however-many-years pussy-footing around and regretting not taking your courage in your hands? Are you going to live a safe, boring life or will you take a chance for happiness? You’ll never know the outcome until you try.”

I looked at Nikki and she looked at me. If my face was the same colour as hers was, then Debbie had her answer.

It was Nikki who spoke first. “Jackie; can we….”

“Yes please,” I answered, smiling; I allowed Debbie to join our hands, and the kiss that Nikki and I shared, although tentative at first, went on for so long that I’m sure it would boil water.

THE END

My sincere thanks go to Angela Rasch and Persephone, both of whom helped with story ideas and gave generously of their knowledge and experience. Also to PS goes my thanks for help and guidance around the technical aspects of BCTS and of posting a serial.