Here it is.

Part 6 of The Ram

The Ram 6

Briony Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy Her nine-month-old daughter.
Arfon Brionys’ unfaithful husband.
Dave. Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie. Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy Daves’ sows.
Angel Daves’ mare.
Daphne Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn. Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley Rachels’ GG wife.

After sipping her tea, Briony found herself at a bit of a loose end. Normally Christmas Eve would have been one hectic round of wrapping presents and visiting neighbours to recover presents hidden from the children. This would also involve perhaps a drink and a mince pie and eventually the night turned into a secret neighbourhood party as parents scuttled around recovering presents from other people’s attics whilst not waking the children. She liked the bustle and mild panic because it reinforced the sense of neighbourliness upon the small estate where she had lived.

Now, up on the remote lonely moors, Christmas Eve had taken on a completely different hue. She decided to check on the children and found herself sitting on the dressing table stool as she simply savoured her blissfully sleeping children. Then she remembered the ‘no presents’ issue and shuddered. Sion would be distraught in the morning. Tears forced their way to her eyes but she managed to silence her sobs the last few days had been traumatic and the only seeming good thing had been this rescue by a total stranger. This white knight in shining armour who had appeared in a gleaming land-rover to rescue her and then whisk her to safety, (Or was it his lair?) she asked herself. Then she scolded herself for being so mean-minded. Apart from the strange transvestite thing, he hadn’t put a foot wrong or said a word out of place. Indeed, she actually felt herself feeling safe around him.

She turned to her dressing table and used the makeup she’d ‘borrowed’ from ‘Daphne’ and repaired her face. Then she slipped on her heels and felt ready to face the world again. In the dressing table mirror she checked herself out and nodded satisfactorily before tippy-toeing out of the bedroom and creeping back down stairs. She was nibbling a mince pie when she heard the tip-tap of heels in the alleyway and she turned expectantly. The door opened and a stunning girl entered to stand in a models’ pose for Briony to inspect her. For a second she could not believe it was Dave.

“Daphne?” She whispered for shock had taken her voice.

“Who else darling? D’you like -?”

“My god! You’re stunning girl!”

“Oh thank you, you look pretty good yourself as well. D’you think we’d make a good pair of girls going out on the town?”

Briony wagged her head for she was still getting over the shock.

“You’d pass Dave. You’d pass anywhere!”

“Uuuhhm, it’s Daphne darling. I’m in woman mode now.”

“What, in your head as well.”

“Yes darling. I was planning this anyway. Originally it was going to be a nice quiet Christmas with lots of new clothes at home for Daphne and then off to Manchester for the new-year. Friends to meet places to go, shopping to do. Daphne’s a real ‘girl-about-town’.”

Briony slowly circled Daphne as she studied every detail. Daphne was almost perfect in every way.

“You’ve got fabulous legs and are those all yours?”

Daphne hefted her boobs and made her cleavage even more pronounced.

“Yes dear, all of them. Girly or what?”

Briony wagged her head disbelievingly.

“Oh yes love, girly you definitely are. How did you manage to change and get ready so quickly?”

“Practice dear, lots and lots of practice.”

Daphne glanced in the oval mirror above the sideboard and checked her make-up. She nodded as Briony smiled. For that was exactly what Briony had done when she came downstairs. The harsh kitchen light was an excellent medium to expose any flaws.

After a brief check, she invited Briony to the drawing room

“Everything’s finished here, there’s not much else we can do. Let’s go and watch the festivities on the television.”

Briony accepted the invitation and followed Daphne down the corridor to the drawing room. She could not help but notice that Daphne had a beautiful feminine gait and long slender legs that obviously went ‘all-the-way’. ‘A man would have been slavering!’ Briony told herself with a silent giggle. The micro-dress also did everything to show off her features. Briony felt herself getting jealous and she caught herself.

‘Stoppit girl! That’s a lady-boy you’re envying!’

After opening the door to the dining room Daphne ushered her in. Briony immediately spotted the computer on the occasional table by the window and she turned to Daphne.

“Your lifeline to the outside world, I take it.”

“Oh absolutely darling. Keeps me sane. Oh look! I’ve only just switched on and I’m being pinged by Rachel. D’you mind if I Skype her to check for Manchester and the New-years’-eve party?”

Briony found herself itching to see what one of Daphnes’ friends looked like. A few quick key-strokes later, Rachel was smiling through the screen. ‘She’s not bad looking either,’ Briony reflected, ‘Rachel could pass but not as well as Daphne.’

“Hello darling!” Rachel responded. “Glad you answered. Have you decided on that weekend?”

“Yes love, second Friday is fine but it depends on the weather. I’ve got a couple of feet of snow up here.”

“Oooh. Sounds lovely and Christmassy. I’ll bring my furry knickers.”

“You’d better darling. D’you want to bring Shirley as well?”

“Well she’s not going to the convention but she’ll find plenty to do in Birmingham if she accompanies me there. However she might go to her sisters in Shrewsbury after the New-year thrash. I’m sure she’d love to come visiting; you know what sort of girl she is. Or, if she does go to her sisters, I could meet her at Newtown Station on Friday evening and bring her from there.”

“Okay I’ll get a bedroom ready for you.”

It sounded as though they were closing down but Briony was still curious about Rachel. She leant over Daphnes’ shoulder and Rachels’ expression widened into a warm smile.

“Ooh Daphers! You’ve got company! You are rude! Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oops! Sorry darling. This lady is Briony. She got stuck in the snow with her two children and now she’s a house guest until the snow clears.”

“Ooh! All over Christmas! That sounds very exciting and romantic. Did you rescue her then?”

Briony chipped in.

“Yes she did. She’s been marvellous. Saved my life. I crashed on the mountain road with both children in the car.”

“Ooooh!” Rachel’s eyes widened further. “It sounds ever so exciting. Well you’ll be perfectly safe with Daphne, she’s a perfect lady.”

“Yes. She is. I couldn’t have found a better rescuer.”

Rachels' expression changed as she spotted an opening.

“Tell my Briony, I’ve never been there but I’ve Googled it from the satellite pictures. Is that house as big as it looks?”

“I’ll say! And then some! It’s got about a dozen en-suite bed rooms and more servants’ quarters on the third floor. You could use this as a hotel!”

Daphne coughed behind her.

“Uuuhm, that’s enough Briony. I only told them it was big enough to have a party. You make it sound as though I’m an inverted snob trying to talk the house down. Please no more.”

Briony turned and caught Daphne frowning slightly.

“Oh! Sorry; I got a bit carried away, but it is a lovely house.”

Rachel spoke to Daphne.

“Don’t scold her Daphne. She just got carried away. I’m dying to see it. My jaws are almost slavering!”

Daphne shrugged then chuckled then laughed. Briony had not seen Dave or Daphne laugh unreservedly before. It seemed when she was amongst ‘her own kind’, she came alive. Daphne continued explaining to Rachel.

“I’ve never had a house party Rache’. If we do it, we start off small, maybe a dozen guests at first. I’m looking forward to it. If they are as much fun as the one at your house, it’ll be a blast.

Rachel grinned and Briony couldn’t help but like her open smile. ‘All these ‘girls’ only seemed to come alive when they were amongst their own,’ she mused.

“Okay love.” Rachel replied. Now you look after that girl; she looks like a good-un.”

Daphne was about to protest then lost her voice with sheer shock. Briony said nothing. The idea of a house party in this house left her excited. She found herself secretly hoping to be invited. The thought that Rachel thought there was ‘something going on’ between her and Daphne rather piqued her curiosity. She put it at the back of her mind for later discussion. After a few more arrangements, Daphne and Rachel closed down the connection. Briony would have loved to have chatted longer but it was obvious that Rachel was a busy girl. Daphne turned away from the computer and frowned thoughtfully.

“Now you see how people jump to conclusions. Rachels already got you and me down as an item; she’s a match-making schemer. I’ll have to be careful where you’re concerned.”

Briony sensed that Daphne was getting a bit worried about local people talking and she tried to reassure her.

“Honestly Daphne. I won’t ever tell anybody. Why would I want to harm you?”

“Uuuhhm, I’m thinking of your reputation, not mine. What would your friends say if they thought you were seeing a tranny?”

“I wouldn’t care. If they’re my true friends they wouldn’t mind.”

Daphne smiled wryly.

“You say that now but you’d soon notice a change. You should hear some of the stories the girls in Manchester have to tell.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, there are plenty of bigoted hypocrites about. By the way, who’s Shirley? Rachel mentioned her.”

“She’s Rachels’ real wife, a genetic girl. They’ve got two kids.”

“Oh my gosh! That’s nice. So trannies do get married?”

“Yeah, but normally it's not for long. It usually breaks down after the husband ‘comes out’. Shirley was the exception, Rachel will be the first to tell anybody; she was very lucky to discover that Shirley was sympathetic AND she accepted that the kids should know. James and Tara know about their dad and they love it. Truth is, Shirley’s a bit of a party girl. At first she didn’t have much to do with Rachels’ little peccadillo but then she went to one of the parties after Rachel begged her to attend. Once she found out about the parties and the fun they have, she refused to be left out. Shirley’s more wild than Rachel.”

“Are they, you know ... into other stuff?”

“D’you mean B, D, S, M and stuff? Not to my knowledge. If they are, they won’t be using my house. I’m transgendered and transvestite and that’s it; nothing else. If other people are into that stuff then let them get on with it. I’m not but I don’t judge others about it.

If Rachels’ parties come off it’s strictly trans, and nothing else. If the kids come, I want it to be legal. No adult stuff!”

Briony felt reassured. She was curious to meet this Rachel and Shirley. Curious to see how a transvestite related to his (or was that her) wife. Daphne left the computer on ‘standby’ and they settled into two large overstuffed armchairs either side of the empty fire-place. As she looked into the sooty black maw, Briony realised Dave or perhaps Daphne, must have fires in there occasionally. The soot and burn marks were quite recent. The lack of any fire cause her to wonder how the room was heated for she couldn’t see any radiators. There were no draughts and the large room was very comfortable. She felt no need to curl up to keep warm and Daphne seemed perfectly comfortable in her micro-dress.

“This place must cost the earth to heat.”

Daphne smiled.

“Not really. Down in the valley, there used to be an old mill that served the estate and ground corn for the labourers at the lead mine down at Llynn Clywedog. The lower pastures can grow wheat and oats so in the old days they produced flour to make the bread. Nowadays we just grow hay but it could be ploughed over for arable if we wanted. Trouble is the fields are too small and too steep for modern machinery. Consequently we grow winter fodder for the animals and some oats and barley for Angel.

Anyway, when gran died, the last link with the old ways were severed. Dad and I turned the water wheel over to a turbine and we generate our own juice. A few hundred kilowatts on a wet day when the river’s full. Saves us a pile of money and we can even sell a bit back to the grid. My electric bills are zilch and that includes the heating. Neat aye?”

“What? Your heating bills are zero?”

“Exactly. There’s a huge electric heater down in the cellar and warm air is ducted around most of the house, certainly the main living rooms and all the bedrooms upstairs and back stairs.”

“Back stairs! Why Daphne Cadwalloder, you make it sound like the old days with servants and everything.”

“Nope,” Daphne grinned, “no servants around here. I live alone remember. This evening I went around and turned the heating up all around the house. You can go into any room and it’s pleasantly warm.”

As if to emphasise his words, there was a sudden gust of wind and it moaned around the chimney pots. Briony would have cuddled up to something warm if she hadn’t been so comfortable. She suddenly realised she would liked to have cuddled up to a companion because the wind moaned eerily.

“Ooooh. Just listen to that wind. It’s really spooky. Hope this place isn’t haunted.”

“Well I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never met one.”

“Are there any stories of any?” Briony asked.

“I don’t know. You have to remember, I’ve only lived here with my mum, dad and gran. They didn’t want to frighten me and I’ve never had any creepy feelings all the time I’ve lived here alone.”

The wind started to moan again and Briony stepped to the window. Daphne had switched the outside sensor lights on and the wind blowing the trees had activated them. Briony poked her face between the heavy curtains and watched the snow swirling past in the brilliant glare of the halogen lights. The wind was ferocious and it was a furious blizzard outside. She turned to look at Daphne draped unconcernedly over her armchair then the wind picked up from a moan to a howl and finally it shrieked like a banshee. The suddenness caused Briony to squeak with alarm but Daphne seemed unperturbed. She turned to reassure Briony.

“Don’t worry; it often sounds like that in this room in a westerly wind. Different rooms get different sounds depending on the wind speed and direction. Proper meteorologist’s laboratory, this house.”

The screeching wind made Briony feel cold even though she wasn’t She shivered and skipped nimbly towards Daphne.

“Move up, I want a cuddle.”

“It’s not cold, what’s up.”

“That wind; it just sounds cold. Makes you want to cuddle up and get warm.”

Daphne chuckled with amusement.

“You’re a strange girl. Yesterday you were all suspicion and protection. Today you want to cuddle up, it’s not cold; well not in here it’s not.”

“Just budge up and make space for a little one.”

“That arse is not so little girl, though I must confess it’s a nice one.”

Briony gasped.

“Are you saying my arse is big!?”

“No, just not so little. It’s curvier than mine but it’s still delicious.”

Briony squeaked with amusement.

“You cheeky bitch! I’m not surprised it’s curvier than yours, it’s supposed to be! I’m a real girl; you’re just a Tee girl.”

Daphne wagged her head in amusement as she slid to one side of the wide armchair and made space for Briony. Briony wasted no time in snuggling into the space as the wind shrieked again.

“Just listen to it.” Briony shuddered. “No wonder the Irish call it the banshee.”

“This isn’t Ireland Daphne chuckled, but we Welsh have another name, ellyll.”

“Yeah, fiend or goblin.”

“Oh dda iawn, your Welsh is good then.” Daphne congratulated her.

“I’d just call it Ysbryd Drwg ... bad spirit.” Briony added.

“Winds aren’t all bad love.”

“That one is, just listen to it.”

She squeezed up to Daphne glad that she found such a warm safe haven. ‘If Dave hadn’t found her she would definitely have been dead by now.’ And she knew it. Daphne adjusted herself on the chair and leaned against Daphnes’ breasts then realised what she was doing. For a brief instant she had felt like a child cuddling up to her mother. She jerked away and stared at Daphne who met her gaze and smiled indulgently. Briony almost squeaked her apology.

“I’m sorry. I forgot! That was unforgiveable of me. I was just thinking of the screeching wind and cuddling up. For an instant I forgot myself and the wind ... you know. A cuddle seemed just right.”

“Why was it unforgiveable?” Daphne asked softly while she left her arm still draped around the back of the chair.

“That must have been offensive, I mean laying my head there; I was taking advantage; I’m sorry. You must be upset.”

“On the contrary, it was the nicest thing you could ever have done."

Briony fell silent, stumped as to what Daphne was driving at.

“What d’you mean.”

“You still don’t get it do you. This is Daphne sitting here right now. Try and understand that. Daphne is a woman. We are two women sitting here now. Daphne is not going to hurt you, or try anything on. I liked it when you cuddled up just then.

It’s what girls do isn’t it? Girls are much more tactile than men and they don’t see it as an ‘invitation’ Put your head back there if you want. I liked it. It made me feel like a proper girl. All girls together. Honestly I’m not looking for anything boywise.”

Briony stared into Daphnes’ face, saw nothing that hinted of predation and gently leaned sideways again. Daphnes’ arm remained draped over the settee offering no threat and Briony eventually relaxed. She rocked her head gently and Daphne murmured.

“Easy Bri’ don’t crush me they’re every bit as sensitive as a real girl’s.”

“Sorry.” Briony replied as she savoured the safe intimacy without any sense of threat.

They lay like that, quietly chatting about Brionys’ broken marriage, Daphnes’ transgendered nature, the children and Christmas. After talking about the children and the looming heartbreak for Sion, Briony asked Daphne.

“Would you ever want children?”

Daphne sighed.

“Aye, I would, but it’ll never happen, I’m never likely to become a mum am I?”

“You could become a dad,” Briony suggested.

“Who’d have kids by a transsexual? I mean, first find a wife ... a woman that is. Then convince her that trannies make good parents and so on and so on. Next she’d have to live up here in the remotest part of Wales on a farm that must have some of the bleakest features in moorland Britain. This place makes the Dales or the Pennines look subtropical.”

Briony snorted then giggled.

“Well I’ve got to agree with you there. Just look out of the flippin window.”

As she said this, she pulled Daphnes’ loose arm around her and gripped the fingers against her own breasts. She was pleased to see that Daphne simply let it lie there without ‘testing’ anything. ‘Another little test had just been passed with flying colours.’ Daphne’s fingers simply curled into the natural relaxed semi-grip of a normal female hand. No pressing, no grabbing; nothing.

Then, suddenly, a little alarm went off on the computer and Daphne excused herself as she struggled free of Brionys’ cuddle to attend to it. Briony looked over the arm a little irritably as Daphne pressed the keyboard and a camera image appeared. It was a video of Angel the mare. Daphne had cameras all around the farm and house.

“Ah, she’s started,” Daphne squeaked as she stood to leave.”

“Started what? Who, where? Where are you going girl?” Daphne gasped. “It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning!”

Without turning to explain, Daphne threw her answer over her shoulder.

“It’s Angel, she’s gone into labour, she’s foaling.”

“Oh my God!” Briony squeaked. “What shall I do?”

“Go to bed. I’ll be up all night.” Daphne called from halfway down the hall.

Instead, Briony put on the coat and outsized wellies that Daphne had lent her. Within minutes, she was picking her away across the yard, bent double against the biting wind. She entered the barn to find Daphne reassuring her horse whilst gently feeling her belly and testing the mares’ reproductive parts.

“Will she be alright?” Briony asked.

“She’s a good mother. She’s had two before without complications. I’m not expecting any this time. She’s full term.”
Briony relaxed slightly as Daphne completed her examination. Then as Daphne turned to leave Briony remarked.

“Shouldn’t you change? If you get any more involved you’ll ruin that beautiful dress.”

“Daphne grinned and nodded. Yeah. Your right. I’ll go and change.”

They returned to the house as Daphne assured Briony.

“It’s usually a couple of hours to parturition. But I’ll stay up with her.”

Briony nodded and asked if she should change as well.

“Well that’s one of my favourite dresses love, perhaps you should borrow a pair of my skinny jeans and some winter sweaters.

Sorry, I don’t have girly thermals, Daphne’s a bit of a fashion queen when it comes to underwear.”

“If I can find some opaque tights, they’ll do.”

“Good thinking girl, that’s what I do. I’d like to to stay in girly mode cos that's what I planned to do for Christmas. Do you mind; will Sion mind?"

"Seems as though I've no right to object now I've seen you complete as Daphnes. By all means you dress girly if you want. It's your house anyway."

She saw Daphnes' hopefull expresion expand into a delightful glow of gratitude.

"Thanks briony. That's really nice of you, I mean that!"

"Well don't stand here all night , there's a poor mother out ther needing help!"

"Okay. I’m going to get some stuff from the wardrobe as well. Just give me a moment.”

Daphne disappeared into the wardrobe and in a couple of moments emerged suitably attired as a stable-girl ready for the stable. She turned to Briony and suggested.

“You don’t have to stay up. I’ll be okay by myself. I’ve attended her both times before.”

“I want to.” Briony protested. “Besides, I’ve never seen a foal being born.”

“What happens if she doesn’t deliver until later in the morning?” Daphne cautioned her.

“Then I’ll just have to get on with starting the dinner.”

“Okay, but I’ll sort the goose out about sixish then return here.”

“Can Sion come and watch if he’s awake when it comes?”

“Yeah." Daphne replied. "Sure. It might take his mind off the presents thing. Oh!”

“What?” Briony asked nervously.

“I’ve just had a thought. If it comes around sixish, we could make the foal Sions’ Christmas present from Santa. You said he asked for a horse.”

“God forbid Daphne! Where would we keep it? I don’t have a stable and a flipping field. I’m going to live with my sister. She’s got a small, three bedroom semi in Machynlleth there will be six of us with her, me and the four kids. That’s crazy.”
Daphne fell silent then suggested.

“He could keep the horse here. It’s going to be with Angel for the next twelve months anyway. Maybe, by then, you’ll have sorted yourself out. It will get around the Santa thing won’t it? A very special present and he gets to see the foal being born, even if we have to wake him up.”

Briony wanted to cry. It seemed that as Dave or Daphne, 'this man-woman or woman-man just never seemed to stop coming up with solutions'. The miracle of seeing a foal being born would give Sion the biggest thrill of his short life. The idea that the foal was a very special present from Santa was simply brilliant. They could sort out the problems of ownership and stabling later. This would get them through the approaching trauma of Christmas morning. The problem had been exhausting Brionys’ brain. The foal was a veritable gift from heaven and Briony slumped on the kitchen settee exhausted with gratitude.