CHAPTER78
Fortunately for us, the Super’s little speech grabbed their attention, and we managed to scuttle off to the train.

I was in two inch heels at the time, which made running a bit of a problem, but we managed our escape, and there was a Portsmouth-bound train pulling in just as we clattered onto the platform. I was so disoriented by the paparazzi that I found myself looking for the red edges on the cycle-space doors, until Eric noticed and pulled me on board.

“No bike today, love”

We settled into a couple of seats and it hit me.

“What did you say back there?”

“That we aren’t gay”

“No, the other word, aye?”

“Well, it sort of made sense at the time…”

“And now? Does it still sort of make sense?”

That led to some inspection of his knees, and I realised that he was profoundly embarrassed. I didn’t know what to think: a man in a dress, for all intents and purposes save my own, not that long divorced from a woman, wondering whether another man had just proposed marriage. Did I want that? My heart gave me the answer immediately–of course I bloody did. The things this particular man had done for me had only been surpassed by Ginny’s tricks, and not only was she married already, but she was a girl and I was absolutely straight.

Once more my mind tried to go into lockdown. Transition is such a hard process, not just in the reactions you expect and receive from those around you. It is a big thing, declaring that your entire anatomy is at fault, that thirty-odd years of your life has been a carefully-managed act, a pack of lies. It is so easy to hear the little voices whispering “not true”, to feel the self-doubt welling up, that when something erupts naturally it can be both wonderful and terrifying.

I was absolutely straight, as straight as a girl could be. I loved both Ginny and Eric deeply, but it was Eric I fancied, and it was his hesitant fumbling towards commitment I adored.

“Eric love, if you meant what it sounded like, and if it doesn’t disturb you too much, I am going to make a huge assumption here and spare your nerves. The answer is the only one I could and would ever give, aye, and it is ‘yes’, of course”

He reached out and took my hand. “You sure?”

“Never more so. Absolutely sure. I can’t imagine life without you, and with the new house it might get a bit awkward. Are you sure?”

Suddenly the grin was there again, like a sun erupting through clouds. “Fuck, yeah!”

So we kissed, of course. It’s what you do.

Off at Horley and along to our marital-to-be-home, and I had to take a shower to wash off the taint of the trial, and of course he joined me, and things continued traditionally. Once my heart rate was back to something approaching normal, and we were dry again, I led the way up to the Woods’ place to let Darren know how things had gone. It was cold and grey, so I was in tights under my shorts, and as usual I was reminded of the fact that my anatomy was still able to dictate my wardrobe. No simple winter cycling kit when I still had something swinging between my legs, no marriage to my man yet for the same reasons. I assumed, given the circumstances, that Sally had marked me down for my ‘real life test’ already, as I could hardly be more immersed in my life as a woman, but that would need a bit of a prod. Sooner started, sooner over.

Naomi welcomed us in with a smile and a cuppa, as we warmed up in the kitchen.

“He should be on his way back by now. Albert is out visiting a prospective new client, so you’ll have no silly computerised interruptions. How did it go?”

“All guilty, all life sentences. I think the judge was more than a little upset with them. Given the choice, aye, she’d have had them strung up. Can’t really ask for a better result, but we had a bit of a problem with the papers outside”

She sighed. “Let me guess, my dear: copper in a frock?”

I nodded. “Eric shut them up, though. He shouted ‘Neither my fiancée nor me is gay’ and then we ran for it, sort of, my shoes didn’t help”

Eric was blushing, and Naomi’s eyes had widened. “Oh my darling girl, is that the truth? Has he?”

Eric, pinkly, took my hand and smiled at her. “Yes he has, and she has said the hoped-for, so there you go. I need to tidy up some of the loose ends, such as jewellery, but it is, as they say, what it says on the tin.”

“My darlings, Darren will be thrilled, and Albert too. Have you told next door yet?”

I shook my head. “All our friends are actually at work, so no, we haven’t, but I rather suspect the press will leak that one tomorrow, so if it is all right with you, we shall borrow your phone for a few calls later”

“And you are staying for tea, naturally”

“Naturally!”

There was a bang at the door, and the thump of a bag being dropped, and a medium-sized lump of flesh hit me with a hug. Darren was home, and after squeezing my breath out he pulled back to look at me, and I knew what the question was.

“Yes, it’s over. All guilty, all got life. They are gone, Darren, banged away for as long as they could be.”

“An’ Chantelle? She OK?”

“Darren, we only saw her on the video link, aye? I will tell you, though, she is a brave girl, and she told the court what they were and she did it with real fire. I think she is recovering, and this should help. I really hope it does”

“Can I go and see her, lahk?”

Ah. I should have seen that one coming. One extra bit of torment laid on a young man’s shoulders, knowing that the girl he had a crush on was being sold by the pound to men like Harton, and Harber. Every time the punches had come in, had they felt worse because Darren knew what Harber was doing?

“Tell you what, Darren, shall we ask Polly, see what she says? Now, Eric and I have some news”

That brought a grin. “I know what that is, innit? You gonna get married, yeah?”

“Darren Eyres, are you bloody telepathic?”

“No, just not stupid, lahk. Can see you two, yeah, you all loved up, is good, yeah? You my best friends, makes me smile, makes me really happy, yeah?”

It actually seemed to be making him cry, so I held him, and Naomi got out the nice biscuits, and we talked and laughed together till Albert came home, and then we laughed some more until Darren spotted Steph riding into her driveway, and went shooting out of the back door. Me and my big mouth. Of course, she was in the kitchen in nothing flat, and Darren was almost hopping from foot to foot.

“I didn’t tell her, yeah?”

“Steph…fancy being a bridesmaid?”

My hearing recovered several days later, as each call led to squeals of delight that had me holding the handset away from my ear. Eric and Steph sat down with a piece of paper to list out who needed to be called, and tick off those I did, and we worked our way through a long list of friends. Dennis was in Custody, so I left it with him to pass the word around the nick, and as each of my friends erupted in happy congratulations I realised once more how incredibly lucky I was.

Geoff appeared at last, and joined his wife. On hearing the news, he looked at her.

“Party?

She nodded. “Party”

“Music?”

“Naturally!”

“Beer?”

“Popes and bears!”

“Sorted, then” He looked at Naomi. “Makes sense to do it here, I suppose, two houses, more room for the casualties to collapse, if that is OK. Then we can start plotting–er, I mean planning. I’ll let Bill know, Steph, Annie, if that’s OK”

I nodded. “Thanks, Geoff, that would be great. Steph, could you do me a favour and let Sarah know? I don’t want to presume too much here, but I fancy a real blow out.”

She laughed, in a particularly evil way. “Oh, I think Sarah can be relied upon to make things go with a bang…”

The next day I was back at work, on an early turn, and the word was well and truly out, as almost everybody went past with a grin and a kind word. That fell apart when the first papers were brought in. I won’t go into too much detail, but almost all of them went with two stories, one being the evil paedos brought to justice because of the fearless investigation by their own reporters, the other a string of items about a tranny copper. The worst line of all came from a particular redtop, who declared that although I was in a skirt I was still carrying my truncheon. Jim saw, and came over to check on me, carrying some brown sludge so full of caffeine it was climbing out of the mug on its own.

“You OK, Annie?”

I looked up from the Daily Mail’s coverage, as predictable as ever. A story too shocking to read, see pages 1-6, 9-24, .etc.

“I am, Jim. Got some scissors?”

I cut out all the reports on me I could, and pinned them up around the rest room. Using the computer, I printed out a banner that I posted above the cuttings.

“Engaged to the best man in the world. DILLIGAF?”