Dreamer: Book 2. Part 9

By Tanya Allan

This part Copyright © 2012

This is the second chapter of the ‘new’ bit, written in response to those readers who requested it.
My thanks to PEGLEG for help with proofing

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Philippa Stewart, international Movie Star and mother of two, looks back at her life.

She has cleared the first couple of hurdles, that of the legal question as to who she is and the medical question of what gender she is. Academic really, but she told the doctor that she has no interest in finding out why it happened, as long as she doesn’t change back.

Now she waits for the police to close the case, as long as her fingerprints match those taken by the police from her room at home and the school she left in a hurry.

Her mother is on the verge of a breakdown and her father is insisting she continue her education. She has yet to meet her family and friends as Philippa, and what about poor old Thor?

But what does she want to do?

Yet again, she feels that others are pressing her to do things to fit in with their plans for her, and not letting her choose her own destiny.

Find out what happens.... read on....

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Dreamer: Book 2. Part 9

Having showered and changed into jeans and a loose tee shirt, I sat at a small table outside my trailer, applying a little makeup as I waited for my hair to dry in the warm sunshine.

It seems like a hundred years ago that I returned to my parents as a girl for the first time.

I was so at home as a girl, I really did feel that my boy-life was just a rather bad dream.

Shaking my head, the ghosts of the past would never really go away. I didn’t think about my life before very much, as, well, there was nothing about it I wanted to remember. The over-riding feelings I recalled were misery and frustration.

I did, however, often wonder about that room. That place where the girl had been on that bed, and in which the boy was now entombed, having voluntarily changed places with her, so she could be free. So I could be free.

I checked my watch.

I had plenty of time before meeting my husband’s train.

I smiled. It would be good to see him again, as I missed him not being around. I always felt warm-fuzzies when I thought about him, particularly when I knew we would be together once more. I hated being apart from him, even for a day.

When I thought about how we’d first got together and then separated, to meet up again later, I often wondered if there was any way of foretelling with whom we’d end up.

I collected my jacket and purse before heading to collect the kids. I found them sitting nicely at the table by the refractory with more ice cream on their faces than in their mouths. Harriet was beginning to look stressed.

“Okay Harriet, I’ve got ’em now, why don’t you take off? You’ve been wonderful, thanks a million,” I said, as I slid onto a vacant chair.

She smiled her thanks to me while wiping my daughter’s face with a tissue.

“Are you sure?” she said.

“Sure. Give my love to Rick, and tell him to contact my agent. We’ve already spoken, and she’s promised to look out for something for him.”

Harriet thanked me and hugged the children. As she and I embraced, I passed her a little envelope.

“I know the studio have paid you for your time, but this is a little something from me to say thanks. You’ve been wonderful, and the children adore you, so many thanks again.”

She spoiled it then by bursting into tears, which made me cry too. We hugged and promised to keep in touch. She hugged the kids again and then left, waving before she disappeared around a corner.

“Now, shall we go meet daddy’s train?” I asked.

Once I’d cleaned them off and gathered our stuff, we headed for the parking lot.

Our station wagon was parked under cover, to keep in slightly cooler. The attendant brought it to me as we waited in the small office.

Within a few minutes, I had driven out of the studio and was on the highway, heading for the station. The children were excited, as they wanted to see their daddy as much as I did.

We had a house here that the studio gave us for the duration. Once I had picked him up, we’d head to the house, where, hopefully, our housekeeper had a meal ready for us.

As I negotiated the traffic, my mind flitted back to that day I had come home.

“Dad, it’s simple, I’m not going back to school.”

The police car was just disappearing down the road, and I was already on the offensive.

His face took on the look I knew so well. In the past, as Philip, I’d always given in, as I knew it just wasn’t worth the effort in crossing him. He likes his own way, and will go into such a mood if he doesn’t get it.

“I think you’ll find that I do know best in this, so no more messing around.”

I smiled, but it probably wasn’t a very pleasant smile.

He was used to dealing with a boy who couldn’t actually give a damn about anything. I had never any desire to force the issue, as there was only one issue I cared about, and that was never going to be mentioned. That boy was gone now; he was dead, as was that particular issue. What he now faced was a girl who may not know exactly what she wanted, but she knew what she didn’t want.

“No, Dad, you don’t understand. This isn’t negotiable; I’m not going back to school. I’m seventeen, and therefore I do not have to go to school. I’ve some high grade O levels and, well, to be honest, I just don’t think I need to stay on for A levels in subjects that will of no earthly use to me in my chosen career. If I do anything, I will go to drama school, but only if things don’t work out.”

He blinked a couple of times, looking somewhat confused. It dawned on me that I’d not stood up to him for years, so he probably didn’t know how to deal with me. I decided to attack while the advantage was mine.

“I’ve managed to find a job, somewhere to live and lined up an even better job in a few months. I have absolutely no intention of risking the last just because you think it would be appropriate for me to go to university and get a degree in something you can boast about at the golf club.”

“Now look here,….” he started.

“No, Dad, you look. I’m an adult and have made some life choices, bearing in mind things have changed so much for me. I know where I want my life to head, so you can forget laying down the law. You can help and support me, or you can object and I’ll go my own way. I’ve managed so far pretty well, so don’t think I will just slide into whatever plans you’ve made for me, because I won’t. Okay? This time, I’m prepared simply to walk out again.”

I watched as his face went through a series of strange expressions. There was anger, frustration, confusion and latterly a little glimmer of triumph.

“You mother wants you,” he said.

“No, she doesn’t. She wants Philip back, but that’s not going to happen. I’m quite prepared to be a good daughter to her, but what she really needs is the right professional medical help and counselling. They tell me that that the dependants of sex-change patients have to be dealt with as if there has been bereavement in the family. Although I’m not exactly a transsexual anymore, I am a sex-change case, so we need to help mum through this. What it doesn’t need is you telling her to pull herself together. Neither does it need me to pretend that nothing’s wrong and to go swanning off without a care in the world.”

He stood looking at me with a dazed expression. All his ammunition seemed to evaporate.

“So, step one is to make sure she understands where we all stand and where we’re going from here. Step two is to make sure she’s getting the right care, and step three is to rip up all the plans you had for us as a family and me in particular. We deal with this one day and one step at a time.”

He surprised me then, because he smiled. I didn’t expect that.

“All right, so what do you say we call a truce and sort out your mother together?” he said.

They say relief can be tangible. I can testify to that.

“Okay Dad,” I said, and let him lead me back indoors.

The atmosphere was still a little strained, as my mother was on the verge of tears for most of the time, but due to the pills wasn’t sure why.

We sat around the kitchen table and attempted to talk about issues, feelings and emotions about which none of us had any experience in expressing.

Although I was legally me (almost) and medically a girl, I still had the awful realities of meeting friends and family as Pippa. I shared my fears and feelings.

“We ought to ask some people to dinner,” my mother said, vaguely.

“Not yet, mum, I don’t think I’m ready for that. Besides, I’m not staying that long.”

This obviously came as news to them both.

“I thought you were back for good?” she said, looking pleadingly at my father, as if to silently ask him what he had said or done to make me want to leave.

“I told you, I’ve a job and things happening in my life. I just wanted you to know that I was okay and, well, understand why I left. It’s a bit obvious, I suppose.”

We spent the rest of the evening avoiding conflict. In doing that we avoided saying anything of any substance and so avoided anything relating to serious decisions that could have any lasting effect on our lives. When I went to bed, I vowed to leave the following day.

It was strange lying in my old bed in my old room.

I wasn’t the same person, so I felt an imposter in my old life. It was so weird looking at all my old things. I’d collected them as a boy, so all the memories belonged to Philip.

I no longer felt that I belonged here.

It took me a while to get to sleep, but when I went to the loo at about 2 o’clock in the morning, I noticed that my parents’ bedroom light was still on and they were talking.

I felt the guilt return, as what had happened to me was causing them so much pain. As I sat on the loo, I thought about lots of ‘what ifs’.

What if I’d told them of my true gender years ago, and told them I wanted a sex change?

What if I had never written?

What if I’d stayed at school and invited a media circus?

I then thought that, with all these alternatives, I’d probably managed to unwittingly take the path of least hassle. As I finished my business, I wiped and regarded my femaleness. I smiled. There was something eminently satisfying being what I’d always dreamed of in a place I’d dreamed it.

After I returned to my room and lay there thinking stuff, I wondered about Thor and what future, if any, we had together. I must have fallen asleep, for his smile was the last thing I remembered.

Unusually for me, I woke early the next morning. In the past, I’d always liked being in bed for as long as I could, for in bed I could close my eyes and dream about being a girl. Now I was one, I didn’t need to dream any more. I just wanted to live the reality, so was up and dressed in a few minutes. I spent a little time on my makeup, because I could.

I was downstairs and having breakfast when my father appeared. He was wearing his dressing-gown over his pyjamas and looked tired.

“Morning Dad,” I said, cheerily. “Coffee?”

He seemed doubly surprised to see me, which was reasonable. As Philip I rarely rose before ten and he’d never seen me as a girl in the morning.

“Um, good morning, Phi..Pippa, thank you.”

“Can I get a tea for mother, or does she have a coffee in the morning these days?”

“Tea would be fine. How come you’re up so early? It’s only seven thirty.”

“There was nothing to stay in bed for. I need to get going if I’m to get back to Edinburgh.”

“So you’re not staying; I thought we’d discussed this?

“Not really, you said your piece and I said mine. I don’t think either of us accepted the other’s point of view. I did say I was here for a short visit.”

“This is hardly ideal, I mean, your mother needs you.”

“Dad, mother needs help, yes, but every time she sees me like this, she’ll remember that Philip is gone for good. So what she needs is proper medical care, the right medication and counselling. It’s not like I’m going to be away for long or far. I’m only going to be an hour or so away, so now we’ve done this, the hard bit, I’m sure we’ll get together a lot. For example, mum could drive over and we’ll go off shopping and have lunch together. If we do normal mother and daughter things, she might get sorted.”

“You could stay here and still do those things,” he suggested.

“No, dad, it wouldn’t work, and you know it. We’re likely to tear each other’s heads off.”

Dad smiled, as we both knew I was right.

“Fine, but we need to keep in regular touch,” he said.

“I’ve no problem with that. I just need time to sort myself out, Dad. This has been hard for me, as my life may be what I wanted, but it’s turned everything upside down.” I smiled. “I don’t reckon I did too badly. After all, I managed to land on my feet with only a little help.”

Frowning, he looked as if he wanted to ask me something.

“Yes?” I said.

“I never really asked, but you said you wanted this; for how long? I mean, when did it all start?”

“All my life, or at least since I was about four or five. I just remember always wanting to be a girl. I knew that inside I was one, but I had to live my life according to what other people saw and expected.”

“Is it because of us?”

“Dad, I have no idea why I felt as I did. I’ve read a lot of stuff about transsexuals, and, well, I don’t think it’s anything to do with other people; it’s simply a case of bad wiring. My inner me is a girl and the outer me wasn’t.”

I paused and smiled.

“I’m all fixed now,” I said.

Shaking his head, he seemed to have difficulty dealing with that news.

“You said with a little help, what did you mean?” he asked.

“Just before I left, one of my friends at school gave me some money and, well, and then I met Thor, and he helped a lot. He just let me be myself for the first time in my life.”

“I’m not sure I approve of you having a boyfriend.”

“I don’t care, Dad, I needed someone and he came along. In fact, we helped each other and drew close as a result.”

“You’re having sex?”

I sighed. I knew this would come up eventually.

“Yes, and we’re taking precautions. Just before I left the doctor’s surgery, he gave me a prescription for the pill.”

“The pill?”

Rolling my eyes, I nodded.

“Yes, Dad, the pill. You know; the contraceptive for women who don’t want to have babies?”

“Ah,” he said, embarrassed.

I handed him his coffee and a mug of tea for my mother.

“If you give me a lift to the station, I’ll get the two o’clock train for Edinburgh. I’ll try to come down next weekend, if you like.”

“What about your mother?” he asked.

“What about her?”

“As I said before, she needs you.”

“So you did. I’m not convinced that I’m actually as much use as you think I might be. Let me take that tea to her, and we’ll have a mummy-daughter chat, if you like.”

He couldn’t give me the mug quick enough.

I went upstairs and knocked on my mother’s door and pushed it open.

She was still in bed, but wasn’t asleep.

She smiled when she saw me, sitting up on the bed.

She was still an attractive woman, and I thought she was looking less vague today.

“Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?”

“Not really, there’s too much going on in my mind.”

“I know what you mean. I’m not sure which way is up any more. Your father took me to the doctor and asked him to give me something. I’m not sure I like them, or whether they like me, for that matter.”

“If you don’t like them, then don’t take them. Look, I’m not a doctor, but even I can see that they’re not doing a lot of good. You started taking them because of me disappearing, so now I’m back, do you still need them?”

“Are you back?”

“Okay, not as Philip. Oh, mum, can’t you see, he’s gone for good?”

“I never said goodbye,” she said.

“You didn’t have to. I’m still me, it’s just I’m not him anymore. I’m who and what I always wanted to be. I tried telling you ages ago, and, well, you chose not to understand or even try to understand.”

She frowned as if trying to remember.

“I thought it was just a phase.”

“It was, but it’s over now,” I said.

She held my hands, looking at me.

“You’re wearing makeup?”

“Yes, mum, I do most days.”

“This is so hard. You’re very pretty, did you know that?”

I felt the colour rising in my cheeks.

“I’ve been told, so I suppose so.”

She smiled, releasing one of her hands, stroking my face.

“You’re the daughter I lost, aren’t you?” she asked.

“No, I’m the daughter you’ve gained.”

“You’re going back to Edinburgh?”

“I have to, as I’ve a job to go back to.”

“And a boyfriend?”

“And a boyfriend.”

“Is he nice?”

“I think so,” I answered, smiling.

“How serious is it?”

“Mum, he and I met when we both needed someone. We’re taking things a day at a time, not rushing into anything.”

“Does he love you?”

“I think so.”

“Do you love him?” she asked, watching my face carefully.

I hesitated.

Did I?

I liked him, a lot. I wasn’t sure that he was the ONE though.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Don’t make a mistake, dear. Boys are such simple souls. They latch onto one thing and think that’s all there is.”

This was amazing. After seventeen years, here was the first piece of useful advice she had ever given to me.

“I won’t.”

“Are you on the pill?”

I nodded.

“I took the first one this morning.”

“Good, then make sure he uses a rubber for at least the next month. That’s how long the pill takes to start working.”

Tears came to my eyes. All my preconceptions about she would react were wrong.

“Thanks mum, I will.”

She took a sip of her tea.

“Do me a favour and flush those bloody pills down the loo,” she said.

I was confused at first, as I was still thinking about contraception. Then I understood.

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. These damn things are making me all woolly.”

I took her anti-depressants to the bathroom and hid them in the cupboard. I flushed the loo, just for effect. I didn’t want to get rid of them without some form of medical instructions first.

“Will you promise me something?” I asked when I came back to her bed.

“What?”

“Go see the doctor and get him to sort you out properly.”

She gave me one of those looks. You know the type; ‘I will do what I want regardless of any promises.’

“I mean it,” I said.

“All right, dear; on one condition?”

“What?”

“You come back most weekends.”

“Deal.”

We shook hands and then she pulled me close and hugged me.

“Thanks Pippa.”

“What for?”

“Being my daughter and coming back to me.”

When I returned to the kitchen, my father had gone up for his shower. I sat and drank another cup of tea and read the paper at the kitchen table.

The back door opened and in walked my Aunt Charlotte.

Aunt Charlotte was my father’s older sister. Her husband, Uncle Keith, was a senior army officer currently stationed in Germany. He was a Brigadier or something. He had been a Black Watch officer and when he was posted overseas, Aunt Charlotte had always gone with him. When their two daughters got to School age, they were sent to boarding school, but when the older daughter, Rosamund, reached her O level stage, Aunt Charlie decided that she’d had enough traipsing about and made Keith buy a house where she could stay in one place while he went off on his travels.

Roz and Fiona were both married now, as they were considerably older than me, but my aunt had no desire to live in a series of army homes in strange parts. She stayed in her farm house just down the road from where we lived, and Keith would return whenever he got leave. He was due to retire soon, so in a short time, they’d have to get used to living together once more.

For a moment she stared at me, frowning. Then, I think the penny dropped, for her mouth opened and closed several times and one hand reached out and held onto the back of a chair.

“Oh, my word, it’s you!” she said.

I was so pleased she’d recognised me. I wondered whether my parents had mentioned my letter. I doubted they would have done.

“Hi Aunty.”

She pulled the chair closer and sat down heavily.

“H..h..how?”

I just finished telling her when my father returned.

He paled a little when he saw his sister.

“When were you going to tell me?” she asked him.

“When we had all the facts.”

“Do the police know?”

“Yes. A police woman was here yesterday.”

“How about the school, have you told them?”

“The police will do that.”

She looked at me again.

“How the hell did we miss the truth?”

Smiling, I shrugged.

“My God, you’re beautiful. What do I call you?”

“Pippa.”

“Well, Pippa, it’s not often I’m speechless, but you’ve done it this time.”

“Don’t be an arse, Charlie, nothing will ever shut you up!” said her brother.

“What the hell did the doctor say?” she asked.

Again I shrugged.

“He didn’t really know how or why it happened. He thinks that I must have been inter-sexed so when my body started producing oestrogen, it sort of changed fully to be in line to what I should have been.”

“Inter-sexed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hell, Charlie, he doesn’t know, so he’s made up the most likely explanation that will cover the legal aspect of this whole affair,” my father said. “If we’re to get her legally acknowledged as a genetic girl, there has to be a plausible medical diagnosis.”

“You were a normal little boy, weren’t you?” she asked me.

I shrugged once more.

“Physically I thought that I was a normal male, but mentally and emotionally, I was never a boy. I was in constant conflict ever since I remember.”

“Oh, you poor child. It must have been perfectly horrid. How do you feel now?”

I think my smile must have said it all.

“Good! Now you can get on a live properly. I always wondered why you were such a miserable little soul.”

My father looked shocked.

“You what?” he said.

“Oh, honestly, you are the limit. Did you never ask yourself why your son was always looking so bloody miserable?” she asked him.

Dad looked at me and then back at his sister.

“I never noticed,” he finally admitted.

“Then you’re as blind as you are selfish. I bet you never even thought about what he wanted, as you were always so full of what you had planned for poor little Philip. Well, all I can say is that our blessed Maker has a wonderful sense of justice.”

There was a moment of stunned silence as my father digested her words. He had a distinctly guilty look on his face when he looked my way again.

“I never realised,” he said, quietly.

“Well, what’s done is done. No point dwelling on the past. How’s the old girl taking it?” she asked.

“She’s okay,” I said. “I think she’s actually over the worst. Go up and see her, she’d like to see you,” I said before my dad could stick his oar in.

I will, make me a coffee, there’s a love,” she said as she breezed out to go up and look in on my mother.

“You never told her?” I said to my father.

“As I said, we wanted to know the facts before we told anyone.”

“So, what have you planned for today?” I asked.

“Your headmaster called. The police told him that you’ve been located and he’s asked if you would explain things to him. Apparently the police didn’t tell him anything except you were alive and well and that the case was closed as far as they were concerned.”

I frowned.

“Have they called here?”

“No, why?”

“I thought they’d tell us the case was closed first.”

“As the school called them first, I suppose they get told first. I don’t know.”

At that moment, the doorbell sounded.

“I’ll go,” my dad said, seeing the look of panic on my face.

It was WPC Sheena Forbes. She followed my father into the kitchen.

“Hullo, Miss Coates, how are you today?” she asked.

The Miss Coates surprised me more than anything else so far, but once over that, I responded.

“Okay thanks, you?”

“I’m fine. This won’t take long. Our fingerprint comparison confirms that you are the same person, so I’m here to tell you officially that the case is closed. We had to tell the school and they were responsible for alerting us to your missing status in the first place, so you may get a call from them.”

“We already have,” my father informed her.

“Okay, fine. So, all I can do is wish you all the best. Oh, and do me a favour?” she asked me.

“If I can, what?” I responded.

“Aye, if you want te bugger off again, just let someone know where you’re going. It’ll save an affy lot o’ hassle, okay?”

I smiled.

“I don’t think I’ll be buggering off again, but okay, I’ll try.”

“Good. Well, I’m just pleased that this one is a happy ending. I’ll see myself out,” she said, putting her hat back on and walking out again.

“That’s a relief,” my father said.

“That’s one relief, dad, but how do you expect me to go back to school like this?”

“In my car?”

“Bugger!” I said.

To be continued…………

Part 8 The Dreamer