The Return

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Happy Christmas to all my loyal readers. May 2016 bring you all great blessings.

The Return

By Tanya Allan
Copyright © 2015

The author asserts her moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

All Rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.

This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone.


A lonely figure stands before her old home, wondering if the woman inside will accept her after all the changes that have occurred.


The snow was pathetic, really. Less than an inch deep at the most and already melting. The swish of the car tyres told the same story. The roads were already turning what lay there into slush. The sky was grey, the sort of day that never really got light. The wind was bitter, making the temperature feel even lower, despite the damp. The damp actually made it feel colder as it permeated deep into one’s bones.

The girl shivered, pulling her coat tighter. Her feet were freezing, as she was regretting wearing these shoes. She stood on the footway, staring up at the house with all the lights on. A Christmas tree stood in the big bay-window to the left of the front door, and the Christmas wreath hung on the door knocker. Lights were strewn delightfully around the front of the house, giving it an extra festive appearance.

She stood there a while, lost in her memories and unaware of the time passing.

A car pulled up alongside of her.

“Are you all right, miss?” asked a male voice.

There was no reaction, as she was still staring at the house, her mind somewhere, or some-when else.

“Miss?”

That permeated her consciousness. She turned and regarded the owner of the voice with a frown of frustration on her face. She did not change expression as she realised a police officer was regarding her from the warmth of his patrol car. Another officer, a girl, was driving.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you lost?”

“No.”

Her monosyllabic tone and curt speech made the officer frown.

“Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

“If you want.”

He began to get slightly cross. She wasn’t showing him the respect he felt he was due. He was twenty years old and had been allowed free on the streets for less than three weeks by himself, and this girl wasn’t conforming to his idea of how someone should react to his presence. He got out of the car and stood up to his six foot two inches. To his surprise, she was almost the same height as he was. He glanced down to see she was wearing stupidly high heels for the weather conditions.

“What’s your name?” he asked, taking out the ubiquitous notebook.

“Why? Have I done something wrong by standing here?”

“No, but...” He glanced at his colleague, but she was seated in the driver’s seat, talking on her mobile phone.

“Do you live around here?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“I suppose you could say that I do, technically.”

“What do you mean?”

She glanced at the house that was now behind her.

“That’s where my parent lives, and I suppose I’m still registered as living there.”

“Parent?”

“One died about four years ago, so I only have one left.”

“So, what are you doing out here?”

“I’ve been away, and I’m not sure I’ll be welcome here anymore.”

“Do you have any identification?” he asked, pleased she was less antagonistic towards him. It was Christmas, and in his short experience, more often than not the time of domestic angst .

She opened her shoulder bag and after a brief rummage produced a driving licence. She passed it to him without a word.

Taking it in his black gloved hand, he inspected it, taking in the girl’s photograph and name.

“Caroline Marchant?”

“If that’s what it says, I must be.”

“What’s your date of birth, please?”

She told him and he checked it on the licence, seeing that the driver number had it deliberately jumbled with an extra 5 within as a special code to denote it belonged to a female. The address was that of the house.

Having no reason to keep it, he passed it back. He was desperately trying to think of something else to ask her when his colleague spoke through the car window.

“Bob; voters’ register states that a Jenny and Caroline Marchant live here,” she said.

Bob nodded, grateful that he now had a way out.

“Okay, thanks Miss Marchant. I hope you patch things up with your mum. It’s not a time for daughters and mums to be fighting. It is Christmas tomorrow, after all.”

Caroline nodded, unwilling to correct him. He didn’t know, did he?

“Take care, and go in and get warm. Happy Christmas,” Bob said, getting back into the warm and dry car.

“Happy Effing Christmas,” Caroline said to the departing car.

She turned and looked at the house once more, sighing deeply. She saw a curtain twitch, so knew that she’d been seen. It was probably the fact the police car drew attention to her.

Bugger!” she said aloud. A passing man glanced in some alarm at her, but saw she was not talking to him.

“Happy Christmas to you too!” he said, sarcastically before hurrying back to his family. She did not hear him.

Wearily, she hitched her bag’s strap up on her shoulder and opened the small garden gate. Eleven paces up to the front door. She knew each one so well. She’d travelled them often enough.

Now she stood in front of the door; the door that was so familiar. She had a key in her coat pocket, but couldn’t bring herself to use it.

She stood there for perhaps two minutes, trying to decide whether to knock or to walk away. If she walked away, she didn’t think she’d ever come back. That was quite appealing.

Finally, she reached out with one hand and was about to knock when the door opened.

‘Oh shit!’ she said to herself.

“Caroline? Oh, my God, it is!”

Caroline stood there, regarding the woman in the doorway. She wasn’t a monster after all. Oh, the words she had used before storming out all those many months ago. ‘Monster’ had been one of the nicer ones.

Caroline had rehearsed this speech so many times, yet now she had to deliver it, her mind and mouth seemed unconnected.

“I..., I came, .. I came to say...I’m so sorry!” she stammered.

The last word was muffled as she burst into tears and the woman embraced her. Both were crying and neither as able to speak. The woman drew her inside and closed the door.

A small terrier snuffled around Caroline’s ankles, and then, as he identified that he knew her, he started jumping up with mounting enthusiasm.

“Benjy still remembers you.” Jenny said.

Caroline smiled through her tears and knelt to stroke the dog.

“You’re soaked, give me your coat. Would you like a hot chocolate?”

Caroline was unsure, but nodded, taking her damp coat off.

She watched as Jenny opened the little cupboard under the stairs and hung the coat up. Jenny was wearing a woollen dress, looking remarkably trim for someone at the dizzy age of forty-eight. She felt some surprise and not a little guilt at having left Jenny when she had needed her most.

“You look good,” she said.

Jenny turned and placed her hands on her hips.

“You think?”

“Yes, you’ve a good figure. How long has it been?”

“Two years in February.”

The guilt threatened to overwhelm Caroline again. Jenny saw it and simply hugged her.

“I’m so sorry!” Caroline wailed. “I just couldn’t cope.”

“It’s all right, honest. I’m just pleased you’re back.”

Caroline just sobbed.

“You are back, aren’t you?” the older woman asked.

Caroline nodded.

“If you still want me?”

“I do. I’m still all the family you have, so we need each other.”

“Can you forgive me?” Caroline asked, as she was unable to forgive herself.

“Of course. I never blamed you. I mean, It’s not every day that your mum dies and then your old dad tells you he’s going to transition to be a woman, is it?”

Caroline simply agreed.

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Comments

WOW

That's a twist and then some

Thank you, Tanya

enb4448's picture

Another excellent story.

Ohhhhh!

Christina H's picture

Didn't see that coming!

Neat Twist at End, Promising Start

... but too short to be a complete tale, so I hope you will find some time between all the things you have to do at this time of the year, to tell us what happens next.

Of course, as a woman you dont have buckets of free time to write things down... One Day, son, I hope, things will be more equal between the genders.

Briar

Briar

Love it

And don't forget, for this time of year 'The Prodigal' by Scott Ramsey is a must read.

My bad

I forgot it is listed under Breana Ramsey here now :)\

Another good story, and that

Another good story, and that twist at the end is awesome. :D

Merry Christmas,
Hugs,
Erin of Wis <3

You got me

Rhona McCloud's picture

Must have a look at my driving license. Happy Christmas Tanya and best wishes for the year ahead.

Rhona McCloud

Driving Licenses

Tanya Allan's picture

It came about as some non-UK born immigrants failed to declare Mr/Mrs..etc. Their names were non-gender obvious, so one would pass a driving test and the licence would be used by everyone in the family - male and female. In your driver number, after the five digits that are your name..there are six digits. the first and the last are your year of birth, your 2 & 3 are the month, and 4&5 are the day. A female has 5 added to the the second digit, so it will always be a 5 or a 6. If this is being used by a male, then it's handcuff time. It is often something that TG patients omit to change.

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

Sex indicator on driver's license

My California driver's license has, along with hair color, eye color, height, and weight, an entry for sex. Unfortunately, it's a binary choice. The date of birth is also shown, so neither date of birth nor sex is encoded in the license number. However, the date of birth is shown in two places, one large and in red and the other small and in black. It is also embossed at the bottom of the photograph. The date of birth is important because the driver's license is the most common form of ID used to purchase alcohol. In California, as in most of the United States, one must be at least 21 to purchase alcohol.

Excellent story

I didnt see that one coming. Loved the story. Perfect for Christmas or any other time for that matter.

I should know better from reading the books

I had to go back and read it again. You are sneaky. Caroline is almost as tall as the 6'2" cop.
There for Caroline is the tg son, now daughter. Whoops!

Merry Christmas!

Cefin

Caroline is the natural female daughter

Tanya Allan's picture

- Jenny is the M2F parent.

Unless you know better :)

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

I forgot,

In the US, all driver's licenses have a photograph. They are used as a universal form of photo ID.

Cefin

more on UK licences

Tanya Allan's picture

We still have the old licences without photos as well as the photo licence. The problem is the new ones have to be paid for and then have to be renewed every ten years. The old ones are valid up to the age of 75 or so. Many people don't want to shell out for a photo one while their old one is still valid. The driver numbers are a carry on from the old licences. Mind you the photographs are so small that it makes it hard to see someone who may be in the grey middle area of ambiguity in relation to gender.

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

Here in the US.....

D. Eden's picture

All licenses have to be renewed, usually every four years. There is a fee to do so, which increases in cost based on the class of vehicle it qualifies you to drive. It also varies by state, there being no national standard as to the cost. As I have a class A commercial license with an emergency endorsement, I am entitled to drive pretty much anything on wheels, but it also means that i pay roughly $280.00 every four years to keep my license.

This of course doesn't even begin to reflect what the US Navy shows me qualified to drive, but I don't get charged for those qualifications - well, not monetarily anyway.

Since 911, all state licenses in the US have been required to meet certain criteria in order to qualify as federal ID (which means they can be used at airports, etc.), and one of those requirements is a photo. I'm not sure about this one, but I have been required to update the photo on my license each of the last three times I renewed it. I am also required to take an eye test every four years.

It sounds to me like once you are issued a license in the UK, you never have to worry about renewing it. Is this true? If so, even with the extra cost here I believe our system to be safer.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

UK Licences

Tanya Allan's picture

..used to be valid (once you passed the test) until you are 75. However, those had no photograph. The new licences (with photographs) are valid for 10 years.. so one has to update the photograph. The old licences are still in play, so it is possible not to change a licence until you are 75. After that date, you need a doctor's certificate to state you are safe to drive, and pass an eyesight test. If you are checked by police, and they believe you may need a doctor to certify you fit, or conduct an eyesight test, the licence can be revoked until you get either done. Likewise, if you suffer from a disease (e.g. epilepsy, Parkinsons or diabetes) you need a doctor's certificate, otherwise your licence is invalid if you haven't told the DVLA (licence authority). If you have an accident, or are prosecuted for driving offences, then you can be made to retake your test. If you fail, bye bye licence until you pass.

There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes!

Re: UK Licences

Greetings Tanya

Thank you for another interesting story with a twist.

The UK driving licence has an expriry age of 70, I've gone past that. Should not be many of the old paper licences around now, as the driver should re-register when moving to a different address. If the police consider a driver is unsafe to be driving they now have the power to issue an immediate suspension of the licence, to be subsequently confirmed by the DVLA. A useful safety option.

Another good option they have is to take a car away if the driver does not have valid insurance. Vehicle will be released for a fee on production of valid documents.

Best wishes to you and all readers for the coming year.

Thank you Tanya,

A twist with another twist,quite delightful,loved it after putting up with my daughter in law for Christmas ( she who doesn't understand
and doesn't want to) .

ALISON

Surprise

What a surprise ending , now to find a tissue to wipe away the tears

At first I expected that it was Caroline.......

D. Eden's picture

Who had transitioned, but as the story moved on I began to suspect that it was her parent - especially as she simply identified the house as belonging to her "parent" without any indication of gender.

A very nice little story that even now is threatening to have me in tears. I can easily place myself in the position of the parent. No, my spouse hasn't died, but every day I worry that my sons will no longer be able to cope with who I am - to cope with the fact that I have chosen to transition.

Should that happen, I truly hope that some Christmas we will be back together again like this story.

Dallas

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Hi Tanya !

Lovely little holiday short! I suspect Jenny's a very happy parent now! Love happy beginnings. Loving Hugs Talia

Nice one

I only regret that you had the idea before me :)

Some driving license/drinking age curiostities:
In Belgium you didn't need a driving license until 1967. You only had to be old enough to drive. Until 1968 you could just get your driving license without doing any test at all (provided you were 21). No actual driving test required until 1977. Working there in 1978 I felt very reassured learning this.

I have an old Cook Islands driving license thats basically is a receipt of having paid 2 NZ dollars glued into a folded piece of cardboard. No photo.

In Sweden the legal age to buy alcohol is 20. On the other hand you could theoretically become Prime Minister at the age of 18.

Typical Tanya Allen story...

Typical Tanya Allen story. Very well written with a nice surprising twist.

Surprise

Jamie Lee's picture

And here I thought Caroline was the one who transitioned. Nice twist in the story.

Others have feelings too.

excellent twist!

You caught me unawares! Bravo!

Pink licence

Podracer's picture

(Used to be green) and holding on to it, circumstances permitting, until I reach 70. Until recently the "photo licence" wasn't sufficient on its own as a driver's document, and one had to have a separate paper document as well!
I started to smell a flower in the plot about part way through, with some of the little omissions, but then I suppose one can get sensitised to plot twistery after reading more than a few on here. It didn't prevent me from enjoying the story.

Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."

A collection of Christmas stories?

Iolanthe Portmanteaux's picture

I was just thinking "Someone ought to put together a list of Christmas stories" -- which I guess means I ought to get onto it, if someone else hasn't done it already.

This is a lovely one, with a very O. Henry twist at the end.

- io

thank you random solos

I missed commenting on this lovely story, so thanks to random solos I got another chance.

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