Chapter 6 (Revised)   Simon Jones is Eve Jones. But she didn't know.

 
 
Previously:
 
Simon Jones aka Eve has returned home from hospital after surgery. He now has to face the outside world.
 
Now the story continues.
 
 
Eve Chapter 6
 
The alarm went off at seven on Monday morning. I couldn't remember setting it but nonetheless staggered to the bathroom in my nightie, after hitting the clock radio to shut it up. Returning, I sat on the bed, I sipped my water. Several thoughts swamped me.

I hadn't even considered that it was a nightie that I was wearing, although of course it was really mum's. Or that I had automatically swung round and sat on the seat in the bathroom again. Or that I wasn't in pain now, just a little uncomfortable. It all felt rather 'ordinary', not strange at all.

While washing my hands afterwards I didn't like the look in the mirror that had greeted me, but at least I was alive. I had a thought about my cousin Jenny as a Klingon, the attitude suited her very well. Perhaps I should nickname her B'Lana, one of my favourite Star Trek Voyager characters, after Seven of Nine of course.

I could have dozed when I got back to my room but mum chose that moment to come in. She insisted I head down to the kitchen for breakfast. One coffee later, plus some toast, I felt more awake. I wasn't human yet but one coffee later would push me firmly back into the world of the living. A bigger breakfast was still not a good idea, I'd probably waste most of it.

Mum pushed me into the shower, after fitting the shower cap on my head. After saturday's shower I was not concerned about her seeing me naked. I let the water cascade for a while, enjoying the massage, before a shout came from downstairs about the waste of water.

I was sat, wearing a towel and little else, when the phone rang. Mum answered it but I couldn't hear anything as she'd shut the kitchen door. I glanced at the clock, it was 8am. I switched the radio back on and, after the news headlines, listened to Sir Terry who reminded me it was Monday.

When she came up to my room, I was still sat there in my towel not knowing what to do.

Mum stood in front of me. "That was the surgery. The doctor has decided that you should not go to the surgery today and a district nurse will visit you. Put your nightie and gown back on. Come downstairs when you're done. Annie dropped a newspaper in for you, I'll take it into the lounge for you."

I went through the newspaper in no time at all. We'd done media studies the previous year in school and it had counted for one of my A grades. I recognized that we were still in 'silly season' when there were few political stories and lots of stories that wouldn't be seen the at any other time of the year. Why did the politicians have to take so long off? They were the best comedians around.

It being Monday there was the first part of a series that would run until Friday, no doubt to persuade you to buy the paper all week. This time it was about British birds. As I was continuing media studies into my A levels, with ideas about working in the media, I was keen to keep up with the news. Of course, I'd missed a fortnight so there was come catching up to do.

The post had brought nothing except bills. At least mum didn't have to pay anything for the hospital stay, I even got the prescriptions free whilst I was still at school. That was the wonder of the National Health Service; when it worked it was brilliant. I must have been in a world of my own when the doorbell suddenly chimed.

"Yes, please come through" said mum to a gentleman.

"Good morning, you are Eve aren't you. I'm John Dixon of Dixon Hill. I'm representing you in your damages claims." He sat down and pulled out a bundle of papers.

"I'd like to go through the events of two weeks ago in as much detail as you can manage. We can expect the Health & Safety Inspector in 30 minutes so we don't have too long."

We went through my statement several times before Mr Dixon was satisfied with the detail. He said he would need to print this off for signing but he'd be back tomorrow evening to do that and to talk about anything else we needed help with.

Our next visitor was let in by mum and coffees were brought through. I got an OJ, I'd already had my two coffees that Mr Bishop, my surgeon, had allowed. The man introduced himself as Tim Bates. Mr Bates asked me to describe the events that led to my hospitalisation. Because I'd just run through the story with Mr Dixon this was easy. Mr Dixon had briefed me on how to handle certain questions.

Mr Bates made notes and said he had or would need to interview the headmaster and Mrs Everett of the Local Education Authority. Given the time since the accident I figured I was probably the last one to be interviewed.

Mr Bates left, promising to send a copy of his report in due course, followed quickly by Mr Dixon.

Mum came off the phone a few minutes later. "I just spoke to the hospital to see if you could cancel today's appointment with your surgeon but they insist you have to attend. They want to do some tests and an ambulance has been booked."

"But I can't go out like this," I said pointing first at the gown and then my head.

"I know, but I've planned for this eventuality just in case, although I'm not sure if you'll like it."

"What do you mean?"

"Come up to my room, we've only got twenty minutes before the ambulance arrives."

I followed mum upstairs. She pointed at a lavender dress hanging on the wardrobe door. "You're right, I don't like it. You're pulling my leg?"

"No, I'm deadly serious. Get out of that nightie and spare the blushes. Dr Kumar told you yesterday that you couldn't wear underpants or trousers for the next few days."

"But this can't be what he intended!"

"Maybe not, but he probably forgot about your appointments at the hospital. As you have to go there, and there's no choice in that, we have limited options. Name me something of your own that won't rub you there."

I couldn't of course, how many kilts, skirts or dresses did I own?

Reluctantly I answered her, "I can't."

"Right, that's settled then. Because it's still warm out, I chose this summer dress, it's light and won't rub you. It's also long enough not to ride up and accidently embarass you. You'll wear that half slip under it for modesty and a chemise as well. Your legs look pretty good and the dress will mostly cover them anyway to your knees."

"But I'll still just look like a lad in a frock. They'll all laugh at me."

"No they won't. Look, if we do this properly no-one will pay much attention to you."

I shrugged and put the clothes on. You don't cross mum when she's single minded.

She told me to sit on her bed then picked up the wig and brushed it out. She placed it on my head and looked at the pale bruise on my forehead. Taking the wig back off she squeezed a little liquid foundation onto her finger and worked it across the bruise until she was satisfied.

She moved me to the stool in front of the dressing table mirror. She placed the wig back on then grabbed a tube of lipstick. This was when I objected, again.

"Look, we don't want anyone to say you're a boy in a frock, do we? Watch how I do this, you need to know in case you have to do it yourself while we're out."

I relented and let her put a light pink covering on my lips, followed by a little eye shadow. I'd said yesterday that with the wig alone I didn't look like me but this was amazing. With mum tapping her feet I didn't try to argue, I'd accepted my fate. I stood and started walking towards the door. I was determined not to let her do any more to me, but she stopped me and had me sit again.

"You can't go out without shoes, silly! Try these mules on."

I did as she asked and found they fitted. She then took a purple jacket out of her wardrobe and had me put it on.

There was a chime from downstairs and mum grabbed me, dragging me to the front door. I didn't have a chance to say anything before we were sat in the ambulance, more like a minibus, on our way to the hospital.

I held my hands on my lap, my knees together and kept my mouth shut. I was very aware that I could give a free show if I wasn't careful, I also believed that anything I said could give me away.

Thankfully, after fifteen minutes, we pulled up outside the main entrance and walked inside. The aircon unit just inside the doorway caused my dress to flutter up and I froze, my hands by my sides.

"Come on Eve, otherwise we'll be late," Mum was seemingly unconcerned.

She pulled me from where my feet were stuck and headed into the entrance foyer. She looked at the boards then found the sign for Neurology at third attempt. I was being propelled down corridors I'd not seen before. We then went back out of the building by a side exit, along a covered walkway and into an adjacent building. I could easily get lost here.

I didn't have any time to worry about how I looked, but kept my head down regardless and relied on mum to get me to the right place.

Mum checked me in at the reception and we found a seat. I went to cross my legs like I always did and mum quickly whispered an instruction. I crossed my ankles instead, keeping my knees together and my feet flat to the floor.

A nurse came over and asked if I was Eve. I nodded and we were led to a side room where my blood was taken for tests and then my blood pressure, height and weight noted. Afterwards she opened another door and we saw Mr Bishop behind a desk.

"Come in Eve, Mrs Jones, please take a seat. Eve, you do look lovely today. Is this is your true self?"