Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 42

We returned home by taxi, and I am afraid I left Geoff to put things away and make tea. I had to wash. All over.

I stood under the shower head bowed as the water ran down over my breasts and streamed from the ends of my hair. It was also pouring off the end of my penis, and after that day, if there had been a knife to hand I would have used it. Ever since my realisation of exactly why I felt so out of place and wrong I had seen my body as something incorrect, a little like a shirt the wrong size or shoes that pinched. They were things that could be exchanged for others that fitted better, as I had discovered in that newspaper so many years ago. I had never truly hated parts of my body; they were just there temporarily until I could get the tailor in for an adjustment. Even Raj referred to it as my “nip and tuck”, and for years I had patiently gone through the hoops to get the surgery. Two things had changed me, though.

Geoff was the first. I have used the word “validate” to describe how he made me feel so completely myself, but that other word is better. Complete. Geoff Woodruff completed me, and now I wanted more than ever to be complete for him, for us. He accepted that I wasn’t quite right down there, but he still clearly found it awkward at times. I knew he loved me, my poor broken-handed protector, but Mr Floppy still intruded.

The other thing that was making me hate myself that evening was Lebel. With people like him around, I could not travel, I could not live a normal life where things could be done casually on the spur of the moment without advance planning. All because of a piece of flesh. Even after the operation, and a steady flow of hormones, I was still a big “boy”, the irony being almost painful. Men paid vast sums for everything from vacuum pumps to radical surgery to make their Bruce* bigger, and here was I …it was enough to make me cry, and I did, and then Geoff was in the shower, wordless again, just letting his body and his arms speak his love for me.

He soaped my back and then washed my hair properly, kissing the back of my neck every so often, still awkward with his right hand. He’d have to drive to work till it healed, or take the train, as he couldn’t ride with the injury.

I suddenly realised what had happened. I was lost in a morass of self-pity and loathing, and then he appeared and I was instantly switched over to domesticity. He touches me, and I am whole, freed of doubt, as happy as a woman can be whose life partner has just injured himself protecting her from the night terrors and the day hyenas. Because I know how vulnerable he is it makes me feel stronger, feel the need to be strong for him. We weren’t made for each other, because we didn’t ft together correctly, but a little trimming would sort that.

If ever any doubt was hiding in some cobwebbed corner of my mind, it vanished silently and without trace. As soon as Raj signed me off, and a place on the waiting list was found, I would have the final adjustment made.

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The following evening we met Donna and her new husband Alan at the Tree for a couple of beers and then continued round to the Star of India for a Ruby Murray. I wanted to make a good impression an Alan, so I wore my hair in a French plait that Kelly had taught me, as well as a little bit of make-up. Geoff was wearing one of my rugby shirts, which fitted him quite nicely to my eye, and his comfy jeans, but I had gone for a burgundy knitted dress that reached to my knees. The logic of the colour was that Tandoori spills might not show up….although turmeric would. A pair of low-heeled court shoes completed my look, and also attracted Geoff’s own looks.

“Do you realise exactly how tightly that stretchy stuff fits round your bum, love?”

“It’s ‘hips’, dear, not ‘bum’”

“As if I cared what you call it. Just make sure you stay in front of me so I can watch”

Donna is a comfortably-built girl, and Alan was a couple of years older and what seemed like a foot taller. When he reached out to shake Geoff’s hand on arrival I winced in anticipation, but he pulled his hand back immediately.

“Sorry, mate, nearly forgot. Donna tells me you twatted someone with it and did a bit of damage to yourself”

Geoff looked up at Alan, and I swear his eyes glinted red.

“I didn’t hit the bastard hard enough. I think I felt his nose go, but they grabbed me before I could get another one in. I had a kick at his balls, but they jerked me back and I missed”

THIS was my gentle man? THIS was the man worried that I might hurt him after he saw me play rugby? Still waters indeed! I interrupted quickly before the account gathered speed.

“It was thanks to one decent Frenchman that I walked out of there still sane, but I was more than pleased to see what my hero here did to our unpleasant friend. But….it was not nice, and I want a beer, and its friends, and a curry and a laugh, and we are going to talk about nice things tonight, or at least salacious ones. Got me?”

And so it went. We drank ale, we ate naan and poppadums and lime pickle. I had dhansak and a brinjal bhaji. We talked about whether Little John would ever get anywhere with the hostie he had been chatting up for at least a year, and Alan filled us in about their new house. Donna, of course, had to trot out stories of the hen night, especially my reaction to the Organs of Destruction I had been forced to handle. I blushed.

“I’ve never seen one that big….”

Donna just smiled happily.

“Oh, I have…” she said, as Alan coughed, and she continued.

“Steph, you were never a bloke, were you? “

“My birth certificate and my parents would disagree with that one, Donna”

“Oh, sod that. You were always a bit odd, and the last couple of years when you’ve always had your woolly on whatever the weather. You know, there were times you were just so sweaty…..let’s just say it’s a good job you are always so clean. No, it was more than that. I used to catch you looking at women, but it wasn’t like the other lads, you just looked wistful, and I never saw you PFP**.”

“Well, if I ever had, it might have confused you even more. I gather you all thought I might be gay”

“Oh god yeah, I thought that but then I never saw you check out any blokes either”

“Well, as you can see I didn’t need to, he checked me out first”

Geoff muttered something about that not being true. I shushed him.

“Remember what Kelly told me? ’I think Geoff likes you’! Who dragged whom up to dance? Besides which, I fancied your brother”

He looked startled. “You fancy Bill?”

“Only until I saw you, cariad”, and then I kissed the palm of his hand. Now, that made him blush, and Donna was giggling, and there were rumblings of some sort coming from the huge man across the table. This was exactly what I needed to bring the light back, and I made a mental note to prod Raj about a date.

We said good night to the newly weds and took a taxi back to our house. In a week’s time we would be off to “our” festival, celebrating a full year together, but just for no reason other than that I loved him I had resolved to be especially nice to my man and so, dear reader, I will leave you at the bedroom door.

*Bruce: a gentleman friend from down under
**PFP: unfair allegation made whenever an Officer stops an attractive member of the opposite sex. Pull For Pleasure.