Secrets

By Susan Heywood

John finds the body of a neighbour who has been murdered. The police detective assigned to the case deduces that John hides a secret - but the detective has secrets of her own.

Part 19 of 25 — Illness

We had an uneventful drive home and music from Samuel Barber kept us entertained. We stopped at the local supermarket and stocked up with food. Jane pushed the trolley while I collected the items that we needed. I’d used the journey to compile a list of essentials and ticked items off as we walked around and found them. I insisted on paying and, just for once, there was no argument. It was Jane’s money after all; now she was living with me, she made a regular contribution to household expenses.

We delivered the groceries to the kitchen; I picked up the post from the doormat and took it into the living room. It was mostly bills but the gender clinic had written, enclosing a copy of their letter to my doctor, along the lines that we had discussed. I was amazed at the speed at which the letter had arrived; I’d thought I’d have to wait another week at least.

The light on the answering machine was blinking and I paged through the messages. Celia had called on Friday to wish me a happy birthday and to hope that I had a good time. My doctor’s receptionist had left a message to the effect that I should call in to discuss the recent visit to the clinic.

I called Celia’s home number and left a message. “Hi, it’s Jenny. I had a wonderful time and will tell all at work tomorrow.”

“What’s for dinner?” asked Jane, hopefully.

I laughed. “You can have anything you like as long as its eggs; I don’t feel like cooking a feast tonight.”

“Hmm, one of your Spanish omelettes would go down well.”

“Okay, that suits me because they’re quick and easy. One large and one normal sized Spanish omelette coming up.”

“Hey! What’s with this “large size” business? Just because you only want a small one.”

“I have to watch my figure,” I said, grinning.

“That’s my job, and a pleasure it is too."

“Any more of that, Miss Dyson, and you’ll be wearing the omelette.”

“I know when to admit defeat. I’ll put some wine in to chill; I think we’ve a bottle of Má¢con-Fuissé lying around.”

“How on earth did that survive?” I asked, with mock incredulity. “It’s ages since Mike’s last wine-tasting expedition. Still, it’s good that I’m still on his list for a few cases after every trip to France; I did wonder if he’d drop me like a shot after my transition but he seems to have accepted it.”

Instead of replying, Jane moved to nuzzle my neck. I started purring like a contented cat so she started exploring.

After a few minutes, I said,” Didn’t you say that you wanted an omelette?”

“Yes, but I don’t particularly want to let you go at the moment.”

“Well, it will take me about fifteen minutes to prepare and cook the omelettes. Do you want to eat now or later?”

She sighed and let me go.

I laughed and returned my attention to my cooking.

After dinner, we snuggled into the settee, Jane’s arm around my shoulder and my head resting against her breasts.

“This is nice,” I whispered, then a little louder. “Thank you again for a wonderful weekend; but thank you especially for my lovely ring. You know that I love you very much and look forward to the day when we can truly be one.”

“I think you sell yourself exceedingly short, my darling. I suggest to you that we are already one spirit and it won’t be too long before we are one in a legal sense too.”

I giggled. “Gosh, that’s a bit deep for you, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but that’s how I feel.”

“Jane?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe in a God?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I do, but sometimes the world seems such a dreadful place that I can’t see how there can be one.”

“Do you think we met by accident, or was there some plan to it?” I enquired.

“Ah, I think I see what you’re getting at. I don’t know; I can’t really dismiss the possibility of a vast eternal plan, but all my instincts tell me that everything that happens is simply chaos having free reign. And did Abigail Jones have to die so that we could meet?”

“Perhaps you’re just being cynical.”

She immediately came back with “Or perhaps I’m in the wrong job and only usually see the bad side of society.”

“No, you’re not in the wrong job at all. You are caring, considerate and honest and we need more people like you in society, not less.”

“Thank you for that vote of confidence.”

“Anyway, since I’ve known you, I haven’t so much minded paying my Council Tax (a local tax that pays for essential services including the Police) because I know that some of it goes to pay your salary.”

“So I’m not so bad after all.”

“Definitely not,” I kissed her, “You’re very good, in fact. Now, I need to properly thank you for my lovely weekend.”

“Ah,” she said with a smile, as I led her to the bedroom.

~ O ~

We both rose at dawn so that Jane and I could make an early start to the day; I no doubt had several days’ work to do and I had an appointment with Doctor Ruskin that afternoon. We both settled for cereal and tea and kissed goodbye at the door.

I emerged from the lift and discovered that I was the first to arrive that morning; I’d even arrived before Celia, who was usually the first to appear. I collected a Styrofoam cup of the hot, brown, wet stuff that masqueraded as tea and, settling myself at my desk, began to make inroads into the contents of my outstanding work. I liked this time of the morning; phones rarely rang before nine o’clock and it gave us early birds a chance to make a start on the in-tray and plan the day.

Celia arrived later than usual and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a huge yawn.

I chuckled sympathetically. “Good morning, Celia; I see you had a good night’s sleep last night.”

“Hmm, it’s alright for you,” she said, none too brightly, “You didn’t have a sick husband waking you every five minutes to tell you how ill he was and that he must be suffering from something serious. Honestly, it’s only a common cold: men just don’t know what real pain and discomfort is. His mother knew; she was in labour thirteen hours with him.”

That remark first struck me as somewhat hilarious given my in-between status but, having thought about it for a moment, I felt both validated and deprived.

I brightened and continued. “Anyway, it really is great to be back at work.”

“Why don’t I believe you? And what’s that on your left hand, as if I didn’t know?” Celia asked, pointing.

“It’s only a ring,” I conceded.

“Only a ring, she says? Pull the other one. Well love, seeing that you don’t have a boyfriend, unless you have him stashed in a cupboard somewhere, I’d say that ring came from a certain police officer.”

“Oh, you guessed.” I acknowledged, smiling.

She came over and inspected it. She ooh’d and ahh’d, then called to Jill, who had just walked in. She did likewise, as did Maddy when she arrived. Finally Janet joined the group.

Greg wandered in and waved to us as he made for his office, only emerging at about ten-thirty to collect his cream cake from my desk and offer his birthday wishes. It was a tradition that the birthday celebrant provided cream cakes for everyone in the team; even those on diets usually found a small space for a small cake.

Word of my engagement had obviously reached everyone’s ears during the morning; just before eleven-thirty, my phone rang.

Greg said, “Congratulations again; not only on your birthday, but also on your engagement, I hear. Oh, by the way, Sue Fuller would like to see you.”

“I’ll make an appointment,” I replied, “And thanks for the congratulations. I did get engaged at the weekend, on my birthday, and I hope you enjoyed your cream cake.”

“Yes thanks,” he said, “A double celebration then.”

“Yes, but only one cake.”

He laughed.

I then said, “It was more than just a double celebration. Let’s say that Auntie Jenny was very well received and my father and I are still on speaking terms, even considering my sexuality.”

“That’s great news, even more congratulations,” he replied, then ended the call.

I telephoned Melanie and immediately went to see Sue Fuller.

“Hello Jenny,” Melanie said, smiling widely. ”Sue is expecting you, please go in. Oh, and I see you didn’t waste much time then; who’s the lucky girl?

“Need you ask?” I laughed as I walked in to see Sue Fuller.

“Hello Jenny,” Sue said. ”Good weekend?”

“Very much so.” I replied as I held up my left hand.

The significance of that little gesture wasn’t lost and Sue asked, “Oh, So will you be Mrs Jennifer Dyson or what?”

“I rather like that; it does have a certain ‘ring’ to it.”

Sue Fuller groaned. “Honestly, that was well below the belt. Anyway, I’ve some news for you. I’ve heard back from one of the campaigning groups. They’ve suggested a few minor changes to the Transgender Policy but, basically, they’re very impressed. More than impressed, really, because we’ve practiced what we’ve preached and we’ve got you.”

“That’s great,” I replied, “I can still hardly believe it; I’m still here and I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Well, just carry on working the way you have done since July and we’ll all be happy.”

~ O ~

I left at three-thirty and headed for the surgery. I enjoyed the twenty-minute walk in the autumn sunshine.

“Hello Jenny,” Sally Ruskin greeted me when I walked into the consulting room. “Well, you certainly seem to have impressed the Glendale Clinic.”

I hadn’t until that moment realised just how tense I’d been. “That’s a relief,” I said, relaxing a little. “I didn’t think I’d managed to get past Ian Stalbridge last time but Irene Cross couldn’t have been more different. Friendly, professional and caring; I got the distinct impression that she was trying to be as much help as possible.”

“I’m glad you managed to relate to her. I know it’s not guaranteed but here’s hoping that you continue to see her whenever you go to the clinic. She’s asked me to arrange for you to see an endocrinologist, although I’ve already done that and I’m waiting for an appointment. She feels, as I do, that your blood results are a bit odd; from what I saw last time we met, that’s putting it mildly. Can I have another blood sample now, please? I’d like to get my own results to compare. I’ve not been your doctor for very long and I’d like to get up to speed on your case.”

I held out my left arm. She smiled when she noticed the engagement ring.

“I’ve already contacted Winchester; I want an early idea of what’s going on before you start on the hormones and they have a chance to muddy the waters. Now, the appointment should be through this week as I know the top man in that department,” she said, with a wink.

I raised an eyebrow.

“The head of the department is Doctor Peter Brookfield; my maiden name was Brookfield. Peter is my brother.”

“How useful,” I laughed. “There’s nothing like keeping it in the family.”

“Anyway, what else have you to tell me, as if I couldn’t work it out for myself?”

I held up my hand. “It was my twenty third birthday on Saturday and, as you noticed, Jane proposed. I suppose I can say “proposed” even though we aren’t going to be husband and wife. Apparently we would be Civil Partners; like being married only same sex.”

While she labelled the blood samples, I told her all that Jane had related concerning Civil Partnerships.

“So, will you still be Jennifer Smith, or Jennifer Dyson or even Jennifer Dyson-Smith?”

I giggled. “I’ve no idea; I’ve nearly twenty-one months to go before I can apply for my corrected birth certificate but I don’t really know whether or not Jane and I can be official Partners before that. Jane will no doubt know; it was her idea and, of all the family, she has the most knowledge of the law.”

After giving the blood sample, I stood and we exchanged goodbyes, with her saying, “Come and see me again two weeks after you’ve been to Winchester. Oh, and happy birthday for Saturday and congratulations on the engagement.”

~ O ~

Jane arrived home at about 7:00pm and, after changing out of her work clothes, wanted to know all about the doctor’s appointment.

I gave her the potted version. I also asked her about the Civil Partnership.

“We wouldn’t officially be a same sex couple until you’ve got your corrected birth certificate.”

Seeing the look of disappointment on my face, she gently pointed out, “the time will soon pass, it’s only twenty-one months away and it’s only a piece of paper confirming a status quo.”

I hoped that I’d be able to have my surgery before that but it all depended upon the Glendale Clinic.

I had prepared a lasagne for dinner and it was ready for the oven.

Meanwhile, Jane had set the table and we talked as we worked.

She asked, “What did the other girls think of the ring?”

“They thought it was beautiful. When I went down to see the Personnel Director, her secretary asked me who the lucky girl was. So my sexual orientation doesn’t seem to cause anyone any problems there.”

“I should think not. Anyway, how long to dinner?”

I laughed, “You and your stomach! I should think at least half an hour.”

Jane decided that was enough time and asked, “What do you say to a little hanky-panky?”

I giggled, remembered an old film with Danny Kaye, slipped my arms around her neck and replied with a smile, “Hello, little hanky-panky.” I was rewarded with a tickling match that I stood no chance of winning at all.

After dinner, when we were cosily cuddled together in the living room, she asked, “Are you happy?”

I glanced up at her. “Absolutely; I’m sure that I’ve never been happier in my life. Anyway, you have to ask?”

“Well, I just wondered, that’s all. It’s all happening a bit fast for you this year and I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything.”

I smiled contentedly. “I feel that I’m at the start of a great adventure and I just can’t wait to see what the future has to offer. Life was so shitty up to this March that I really had no hope of ever digging myself out of the misery that I was in. And then you came along, and wham! It was like someone opening a door and leading me into this beautiful sunlit garden that I never even knew existed.”

“Hmm, very poetic. Anyway, I’ve been thinking again about my flat. What do you say to my getting a place big enough for the two of us? I can’t keep staying here, can I?”

“Why not?” I asked, “Don’t you like staying here?”

“Yes, of course I do — I especially like coming home to you - but I wondered if you’d feel happier if we made a new start in another property.”

“I don’t know,” I answered, truthfully, “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

~ O ~

When I arrived at the office, just before 8:00am, Celia was already at her desk.

“Good morning,” I said, brightly. “Is Philip feeling better this morning?”

“Yes, he’s decided that he feels much better and that he’s going to stop being a martyr and will just grin and bear it. At least I slept most of the night so I don’t feel so much like something the cat dragged in this morning. Oh, by the way, he gave me this for you, well for Jane really.” She handed over an envelope.

It was unsealed so I opened it and found details of two properties; a house and an apartment. The house was a five-bedroom detached property. It was only a couple of years old and had been purchased by a couple who were selling up and moving because of a promotion opportunity. The four-bedroom apartment was on the first floor of a large block only a few minutes away from Jane’s penthouse apartment. I briefly looked them over and decided that Jane probably wouldn’t like the apartment because not only was there no terrace or balcony but also the rear of the property faced north and wouldn’t get much sun during the day. The house looked like a possibility but, to me, very expensive. I realised that I’d no idea of Jane’s financial situation. Still, I’d give her the information that evening and let her decide. It was strange but, after being on my own for a few years, I was now quite happy to let someone else deal with all the big questions in life.

~ O ~

Jane didn’t arrive home until about 8:00 pm after a very long day. She looked totally exhausted and I just anxiously watched as she seemed to be running on autopilot; the question of housing was definitely going to wait until another night.

She just took off her work clothes and, wearing a comfy dressing gown, returned to the living room and collapsed onto the settee. She didn’t feel like eating much and only picked at the plate of food that I brought in. She soon gave up, having hardly touched it.

I sat beside her and, putting my arm around her shoulders, cuddled in close. “Bad day,” I said, stating the obvious.

She nodded weakly. “Add to that the fact that I’m on and I already feel like death warmed over,” she said, ruefully. “I’ve been in court all day, then back to the station to start on the day’s work. And I had to finish it all, as it’s back to court again tomorrow and, probably, the next day. We’re desperate to nail this villain and it’s going to take all week. It’s times like this that I wished I just stacked shelves in ASDA.” (A UK supermarket chain owned by the American retail giant Walmart)

“You don’t, really,” I said with some sympathy, “And I’m glad you don’t. I’m really pleased that we have dedicated police officers like you to look after us. I just wish that the courts would back you up more.”

“It’s partly the courts, but we all have to work within the law. Our job is to catch them; it’s the courts’ task to determine their guilt or innocence. I don’t know which of us has the tougher job. I suppose it’s a question of balance. You don’t want the villains to go free but, then again, someone has to look at the whole thing objectively; perhaps we are sometimes too close to the action.”

“Talking of action, you look exhausted. Get an early night; I’ll just clear up a bit and then join you for a cuddle.”

“You’re good to me and good for me,” she said, appreciatively.

“I’ve seen you trying to cope with everything on your own. You have a very demanding job and you also now have me to worry about.”

“Hey! Like I said; you’re good to me and good for me and, anyway, I enjoy my job.”

I sighed, but then brightened a little and we kissed for a few minutes. She looked absolutely worn out and fell asleep in my arms: I had never seen her so exhausted and wondered if it was just work, her period or some other reason. She usually had the constitution of an ox and I wondered if she was just a bit run down. Her appetite was always a good indicator of her general health and, this evening, she had eaten practically nothing.

I half-carried her to bed — she out-weighed me quite a lot — I helped her off with her dressing gown and tucked her in, whereupon she immediately fell asleep. About fifteen minutes later, I joined her. I more often than not managed the laundry so knew when she was having a particularly heavy period. I also kept a special note on the kitchen calendar so that I would have some idea of her cycle. I sighed as I knew that this aspect of being a woman would forever be denied me. I’d heard the women at work complaining about their periods, but I’m sure I would have been delighted to have this ultimate validation of my gender. I again felt cheated and quietly cried myself to sleep.

~ O ~

Jane’s case had thankfully finished the previous day and work had returned to something resembling normality by the evening. She had now definitely come on and was having a particularly heavy flow, so any plans for the weekend were shelved and we just settled for a quiet couple of days. Her appetite was still uncharacteristically poor and I was very worried. In fact, I nagged her so much on the Sunday that she called in sick on the Monday morning and made an appointment to see her doctor. Her placid acquiescence only served to increase my concern for her health.

~ O ~

I decided that Jane wasn’t going to drive to the doctor’s surgery so I ordered a taxi. She was still in much more discomfort than usual and, again, didn’t seem inclined to argue. I went to work but was nowhere near as productive as of late because I was very worried about her. Celia said that I should have gone to the doctor with her, but I pointed out that she had a mobile phone and could ring if there were problems. Not only that, but Jane probably wouldn’t allow me to go with her; anyway, it’s not as if her doctor was in London. Well, I didn’t think he or she was.

Jane’s Doctor

“Hello Jane.” Doctor Helen Munro had moved from Scotland three years ago when her husband had taken a senior management job down South. She was fairly tall and wasn’t particularly slim, being what you might call big boned, but she couldn’t be described as fat. She had short, brown hair and wore spectacles. “I see from the records that you aren’t a regular customer of ours. Now, what’s the problem?”

“Well,” Jane said, a little breathlessly, “I’ve had bad periods before but this one takes the biscuit. I’ve not experienced pain like this since I was a child and had to have my appendix out.”

“Well, that appears to rule out one cause.” Helen said. They went next door into the examination room and Helen pushed and prodded for a few moments; then she said, “Hmm, it might be an infection; let’s try the usual tests.” She took a blood sample, blood pressure, pulse and temperature. “It might be an infection of the uterus; one we call Endometriosis. Have you been taking any painkillers?”

Jane replied, “Well, I don’t like using drugs but had to raid the medicine box on Saturday night, the pain got so bad. My fiancée popped to the pharmacy for something a bit stronger yesterday but that’s all I’ve been taking.”

“According to our records, you aren’t on the pill; that can sometimes help with the pain. Are you taking the pill?”

“No, I don’t need it with my fiancée.”

“Oh?”

“My fiancée is female.”

“Oh, I see. Is she with this practice?”

“No, she’s with Doctor Ruskin at The Avenue.”

“Back to you: do you feel better with the painkillers?”

“Only a little; will the problem recur next month?”

“Probably: painkillers won’t cure, they only dull the symptoms,” Helen said.

“What are the alternatives? I can’t take a week off every month just because I have a rough period.”

“Do you have a job?”

“I’m a police officer.”

“Hmm, we need to get it sorted sooner rather than later then; it’s not as though you have a nine-to-five office job and sit behind a desk all day. I’d like to try you on a course of oral contraceptive and progesterone to see if you get an improvement next month. Oh, and you ought to rest for a few days.”

“Jenny will laugh at the pill; she’ll think I don’t trust her.”

“Pardon?”

“I said that Jenny is female. Well, she is in her head, and she’ll be female in her body as well when she’s had her surgery.”

“Oh, now I understand,” Helen laughed as she handed over the prescription and a certificate. “Please come and see me again if the pain persists or gets worse. I’ve given you two month’s supply but I’d hope for the infection to clear up soon.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Jane called me and updated me on the doctor’s visit, including the medication. I was quite good at lateral thinking and got to wondering whether or not Jane wanted children. It was something that we hadn’t discussed. Of course, we had only known each other for just over six months. Was it really only six months ago
that we met? It seemed like half a lifetime to me; the nightmares of the past were slowly fading from my memory but would probably never go away altogether.

I almost felt that I had always been as happy as I am now; had always been so accepted — more or less - and had always known my darling Jane. A lump came to my throat as I thought about the possibility of children. I recalled just how much fun I’d had with Ros and Geoff and wondered about freezing some sperm before it was too late. Would it even be possible? Are there any, and were they any good? I knew that I would never be able to use that with which I was equipped; firstly, it was quite small and I hated it with a passion and, secondly, I just couldn’t see Jane wanting to use it anyway. I’d never had any emissions and not even an erection. I sighed. If we did start a family, it would have to be Jane that carried and bore any children. I again felt cheated. I would definitely have to talk to her about it.

~ O ~

“How do you feel, love?” I asked when I arrived home to find Jane sitting in her dressing gown on the settee.

“Rough. I tried to sleep this afternoon but the pain kept me awake.”

“Hungry?”

“Hmm.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?”

“It’s a ‘hmm’.”

“You are definitely out of sorts,” I said gently, while cuddling her.

“I haven’t felt so bad in years. I don’t do ill; it’s not my way.”

“I know, but illness can strike at any of us, at any time. I’m just thankful that I can be here for you. Have you started the medicine yet?”

“Yes, I popped one of each this morning after I collected them from the pharmacy. They gave me a funny look. Perhaps they don’t get many twenty-nine-year-old women starting the pill; I suppose that most women usually finish taking it around that age because they are trying for a family.”

I was amazed, and the look on my face confirmed it. “You’re twenty-nine years of age?”

End of part 19