"You're a very nice lady, Lady Catherine. It suits you like the expensive clothes you wear."

"I bought this lot in Marks & Sparks*," I said indicating the jeans and top under the coat. "I'm just an ordinary girl at heart."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad,
part 196.

I visited my father and took him the soup I had hurriedly made, he seemed to enjoy it, and there would be enough for the next day. The journey back down to Portsmouth wasn't too bad either. I had taken my bike back with me, just in case I had a chance to ride it, although it looked pretty remote.

I popped in to see Stevie but he was sleeping. I left some fruit and magazines for him with the nurse. As I was leaving I bumped into his sister.

"Lady Catherine," she said and I didn't know if she was being genuine or taking the piss.

"I'm not yet, it's just plain Cathy."

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were engaged."

"I am, but titles only transfer on marriage. Actually I think it's a load of old tosh, but it may help with restaurant bookings."

She laughed.

"How is he?"

"Very poorly."

"Has your dad been to see him?"

"Yes, they held each other and cried."

"And your mum?"

"She's gone for a coffee while he sleeps. Dad had to go home for work tomorrow, Mum and me are staying down here for a few days."

"I'm glad Stevie and his dad were able to make up some ground."

"Yeah, look can we talk?"

I looked at my watch, I didn't really have time but I didn't feel like seeming rude to a youngster. "Can I make a quick phone call?"

She nodded and I called Simon. "I'm at the hospital, just seeing Stevie, won't be long."

"Okay, see you later?"

"Want me to bring anything in with me?"

"Des's balls on a plate."

"Boiled or baked?"

"Don't care."

"See you later."

We walked out of the ward and strolled around the hospital grounds.

"I still can't believe you used to be a boy," started Mandy.

"I'm sure you haven't brought me all out here to say that."

"No, but I was complimenting you for being so, like female."

"Thank you, now what did you want to talk about?"

"My boyfriend likes to borrow my clothes," she said and even in the evening twilight I could see her blushing.

"How can I help with that?"

"Well is he que..I mean gay?"

"I don't know, I presume not if he is going out with you."

"We don't have sex or anything, but he likes to wear my underwear."

"Does he wear it or just take it home to fantasise over while he erm.. releases his tensions."

"No he puts it on."

"He might be a number of things, fetishist, transvestite, or he may be just exploring his relationship with you. What is important is how you feel about it and how much you like or love him."

"Yeah, I suppose so. If I could arrange it, would you talk with him?"

"About what Mandy? There are loads of people better qualified than I am to deal with psychosexual issues. I'm a biologist not a psychologist."

"But if he is transvestite, you'd know what is was like wouldn't you?"

"Not really, I have seen myself as female since I discovered there was a difference between girls and boys, so I didn't cross dress, I felt skirts and things were my natural wear."

"What if he's the same?"

"He needs to talk to an expert not me. I'm sorry Mandy, I have enough of my own issues to deal with, I don't actually need somone else's. Besides, it has to be his idea to see someone, not just for your benefit, because it'll be his records any such stuff will be written on, not your's."

"Yeah I understand."

"Look, I'm not trying to be unhelpful, I just don't think I'm the right person for him to speak to. The problem is, if he is transgendered, whatever that means exactly, and he meets me, it might encourage him to do something he wouldn't have thought about before. I have seen it happen."

"What like want a sex change 'cos he saw someone else who'd had one?"

"Exactly that."

"Yeah, maybe you are the worst person for him to see then."

"Maybe I am, I have to go Mandy. I'll try and pop by tomorrow and see Stevie."

"Why do you call him Stevie?"

"That's what he wanted me to call him."

"Oh! I always call him Steve."

"I'm sure he's fine with that."

"Yeah, course he is." She paused for a moment then said, "He's going to die, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. He is very poorly."

"Thank you for helping him and us."

"I only did what he asked me to do. I could hardly refuse a dying wish, could I?"

"You're a very nice lady, Lady Catherine. It suits you like the expensive clothes you wear."

"I bought this lot in Marks & Sparks*," I said indicating the jeans and top under the coat. "I'm just an ordinary girl at heart."

She threw her arms around me and hugged me. "Come and see Steve again, he still needs you."

"I'll do my best."

She went back to the ward and I went to my car. I checked the bike was still inside the car under my other luggage. If Simon was looking to buy me a nice Christmas present, a hard bike bag would be good, except I didn't like the idea of him spending hundreds of pounds on me.

I arrived home with a take away, an Indian. I didn't want any, I don't like spicy food, but Tom's eyes lit up when he smelt it. The others ate it while I did myself a boiled egg. I was tired.

"So what is this between you and Des?" Simon stood in the kitchen while I washed up.

"There is only one thing between Des and myself, and that is my love for you. Now I am sorry I wound you up, but sometimes you ask for it, and you did introduce us."

"Not really, he saw you at the press conference, the one with the kamikaze jerbil."

"Dormouse, you've been talking to Tom far too much."

"One pest is much like another."

"You are not going to wind me up just because I got you earlier. I am not Stella, I don't really enjoy these silly games."

"How about we just go to bed and do what the Welsh do?"

"What play rugby or sing?"

"We can if you like, but I was thinking of having what they call a 'cooch.'"

"I've heard that expression before, especially around Cardiff."

"It means a cuddle, I believe. Cooch b'there like, look you," he sounded like a cross between Max Boyce and Fluellen from Henry V, with a preposterous Welsh accent.

"Aye alright like," I said in my best (Bristol) Welsh accent, and we went off to bed together.

*Marks & Sparks = Marks & Spencer a very large chain of shops in the UK also in some other European countries.