The Might-Have-Been Girl A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright 2016

Chapter 29   The rocky road to Stratford.

My visit to Dr Maria Wilson was less traumatic than I feared. I wore a summer dress since it was a fine day. I had bought it months before and this was my first opportunity to wear it outside. I teamed it with sheer stockings and three inch heels. Mum and Aunt Peggy complimented me on how I looked. Nevertheless, my heart was pounding as I entered Dr Wilson's consulting room.

“Well now Harriet, I presume you've come back to see me about your gender issues?”

“Yes Dr Wilson. I know it's not quite two months since I saw you last, but I am absolutely certain in my own mind that I wish to spend the rest of my life as a woman. I have to go to Stratford-upon-Avon in a week to be an understudy, so I won't get a chance to see you for a while.”

“Stratford? You don't mean the Imperial Shakespeare Company do you?”

“Yes, I'm to be the understudy for Ophelia and Queen Gertrude in their new production of 'Hamlet'.”

“My goodness, so they are quite sure that you can perform as a young woman, and even an older one?” she said.

“Well yes, in fact they only know me as a young woman,” I replied.

“So they don't know your background?”

“I saw no need to tell them,” I replied. “Although, ironically, women's parts were played by boys in Shakespeare's time. Still, I don't see myself as a boy, and haven't for a long time.”

“So I presume you would like me to refer you to a specialist in gender dysphoria with a view to you starting hormone therapy?” she said.

“Yes please, I would like that very much. This isn't an act for me, this is who I am.”

She smiled. “Yes, I do believe it is. Harriet, I'll be frank with you. You'll be seen much quicker as a private patient than under the NHS, but it is quite expensive of course.”

“I've been saving up with this in mind ever since I started working,” I replied.

“Well the nearest specialist to us is in York, or there are a number in London of course.”

“Maybe London would be better since I'll be in Stratford. I hope I can get the occasional day off and book an appointment then.”

“That's an even better reason for going private,” she remarked as she consulted a medical directory. “Here we are.”

She pulled the computer keyboard towards her and started to type. When she had finished, she printed and signed it and put it into an unsealed envelope, knowing I would like to see what she had written.

“Here we are Harriet. Good luck. I'm sure the specialist will write and tell me her findings.”

When I arrive home, I pulled the letter out of the envelope and read as follows:

Dear Dr McLeish,

Maria Wilson MBBS

I decided I had better wait until rehearsals started so I would know what days I might have off, and try to get an appointment to coincide with them.

Aunt Peggy's last weekend in England arrived. She and Mum had had a wonderful time together and we had all enjoyed her being with us. She had made sure that Mum didn't do too much while she recovered, something Emma and I might have found hard to do, and now Mum really seemed like her old self.

I knew that Reggie had hired a car and was going to pick it up after work on Friday, and drive up to Bridchester, staying as usual with his parents. I also knew he would arrive late so didn't really expect to hear from him on Friday evening; however, about eight-thirty my phone rang and it was Reggie.

“Hello darling, where are you?” I asked.

“About half-way to Brid, but there's something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He sounded a bit hesitant and I wondered what was up.

“Would you and your family be very offended if my parents didn't come along to the lunch tomorrow? My sister Barbara is in a netball team playing in the final of the inter-schools competition, and it's on Saturday afternoon. She really wants my parents to be there to see her play.”

“Of course not Reggie. I”m sure we all understand how important that is. Please pass on our best wishes to her.”

“Thank you,” he sounded relieved. “It's not because they don't want to come, but this is special for Barbara. I'll be at your lunch of course.”

“Don't worry about it Reggie. Just drive carefully and we look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

I hung up and went to tell Mum and Aunt Peggy.

“Well that's a shame,” said Mum. “But it can't be helped.”

Aunt Peggy looked a bit sceptical. “Have Reggie's parents ever met you as Harriet?” she asked.

“No they haven't but they know all about me,” I replied.

She said nothing more but I could tell what she was thinking – were they using this as an excuse not to come to the lunch? I preferred to give them the benefit of the doubt, but she had sown the seeds in my mind. How did they really feel about Reggie, their only son, going out with a girl like me? It was something I had never discussed with him.

Saturday came and Emma, Aunt Peggy and I spent most of the morning preparing a very special lunch. Reggie arrived at twelve o'clock as arranged, and apologised again for his parents' absence.

“It's alright Reggie, really,” I said. “We can have lunch with them another time, but this might be the only time your sister plays in a netball final. Are you sure she didn't want you there as well?”

He laughed. “No, if anything I would put her off her game, and I wouldn't want to be responsible for her team losing.”

“Well come in and meet Aunt Peggy,” I said, leading Reggie into the lounge.

Aunt Peggy had made quite an effort and was wearing a floral summer dress, even though by Australian standards the weather was quite cool. She had put on some makeup which was a rarity for her, and I must say she looked very nice.

“Hello Reggie, I've been looking forward to meeting you,” she said, shaking hands with him. I saw him wince slightly and realised she had quite a grip which he wasn't expecting. That's what farm work does to you.

“Would you like a drink?” she said. “I didn't realise until I got here that I could buy Foster's lager.”

“Yes please,” he replied. “I'm driving but I'm sure one beer will be alright.”

“Harriet tells me that you are driving her to Stratford tomorrow. That's very kind of you.”

Reggie blushed slightly. “Well it's going to be so much easier for her than getting there by public transport, especially with her suitcases.”

I could tell that Aunt Peggy liked Reggie, and nothing was said about his parents not coming to lunch.

“I'm going to learn to drive myself soon,” I said. “I can't keep relying on someone to drive me.” I suddenly thought that sounded ungrateful, so I hurriedly added “That way I can take a turn at the driving.”

“Good onya,” said Aunt Peggy. “I don't think there's many girls in Australia who can't drive.”

Just then Emma came in and said that lunch was ready. We walked into the dining room and the waiting feast – it was almost like Christmas, with ham, roast beef, chicken, roast vegetables, and an open bottle of Australian wine that Aunt Peggy had bought from the local supermarket. I thought to myself 'We'll never get through all this, they'll probably be eating left-overs for days. Nevertheless, by the time we got up again about two hours later, having completed the meal with a pavlova which Aunt Peggy had managed to find somewhere and couldn't resist buying.

None of us had ever seen one before and were quite surprised by what amounted to a large meringue in the form of a cake, decorated with strawberries, kiwi-fruit and passion-fruit. It certainly tasted delicious, but I couldn't help thinking that every mouthful was putting an inch on my waistline!

Afterwards, as we sat in the lounge, waiting for it to digest, at Reggie's request, Aunt Peggy showed him the pictures of her farm in Australia, and taught him to say “Yackandandah' with an Australian accent. Altogether it was a very enjoyable day. Emma had to go to the theatre about six o'clock and the rest of us had a light supper from the lunch 'left-overs' before Reggie said he had better go back to his parents' place to hear how the netball match had gone, and also to get an early night before driving me to Stratford on Sunday.

Sunday morning I was up about seven o'clock. Reggie wasn't coming for me until about nine, but I wanted a bit more time with Aunt Peggy. We had breakfast together and chatted.

“I'm sorry not to be coming to the airport tomorrow to wave you goodbye,” I said.

“It's alright. If Reggie wasn't taking you down to Stratford today, I expect you'd have quite a trip by public transport, and anyway I'm only here one more day.”

I got up and hugged her. “Thank you so much for coming over. Mum really appreciated it and I'm sure it helped her recover quicker. This is the second time you've been a ministering angel to our family.”

“Well from what she told me about the night she was so sick in the hospital, it seems I'm in the company of angels,” she replied.

I couldn't stop myself from blushing. “I suppose Mum told you the story about the angel with my face that visited her?”

“Something like that,” she replied. “I'm sure I'll be coming over to see you all again, and hopefully in happier circumstances than this trip and the last one.”

“Sometimes I miss Dad so much,” I said. “Do you think he'd mind having two daughters?”

“I'm sure he's very proud of both of you. Anyway, are you all ready for when that handsome young man of yours arrives?”

I smiled. “Yes he is handsome isn't he? I don't know how much longer I'll keep him as my boyfriend, although I think we'll always be friends. I've been thinking about yesterday and his parents not coming to lunch. I know what you were thinking, that they don't really want him involved with me and would much prefer he settled down with a girl who could give him children.”

Aunt Peggy reached over and took my hand. “Don't give up Harriet. Lots of couples can't have children, and it isn't because one of them is transgendered. There's always the option of adopting children you know. There's many who would love to be accepted into a happy home.”

I hugged her again. “You're going to make me cry and ruin my makeup if you aren't careful,” I said, doing my best to smile.

She smiled back. “I really hope you can come out to Australia to see me sometime. There will always be a bed for you, a double bed if you need it.”

I really smiled this time. “Aunt Peggy, you are a dreadful woman, you're making me blush again!”

Mum and Emma joined us a few minutes later, but that was alright – we'd said to each other what we needed to say. Aunt Peggy got up and started to poach some eggs. She had the happy knack of always doing them just right, and we were going to miss that. I usually pulled them out too soon, and Emma tended to let them go too long. Mum also did them well, but we liked to treat her to breakfast, after all she cooked most of the other meals of the day.

The door bell rang, I answered it and it was Reggie. I gave him a quick kiss before ushering him into the kitchen. I could see the smell of toast and coffee was making his mouth water, so we all insisted that he have poached eggs on toast and some coffee before we left for Stratford.

“Now we won't have to eat at one of those overpriced service centres,” I said.

“And I've made you some sandwiches too, in case you feel peckish along the way,” said Aunt Peggy. I guess that proved to me that she really like Reggie.

All too soon it was time for us to load up the car to head south. There were hugs all round and even a few tears as I finally got into the car and wound down the window to say a final goodbye.

“Remember what I said about visiting me,” said Aunt Peggy. “Good luck with the play. 'Break a leg' is what you theatre folk say isn't it?”

Reggie slowly drove off as I waved and waved until we turned the corner and they were lost to sight.

“Oh dear, that was hard,” I said, dabbing at my eyes.

“It was good to see your Mum looking so well, and I really like Aunt Peggy,” said Reggie.

“She likes you too,” I said. “She said that if I get over there to visit her she'll have a bedroom with a double bed waiting. Why do you think she said that?”

Reggie laughed “I have absolutely no idea,” he replied.

We detoured around York and before too long we were on the M1 and heading south. Reggie was unusually quiet and I was sure I knew what the problem was. As a female I often thought I still had my “L” plates on, but one thing I did know is that men often have trouble discussing emotional issues, especially when they don't know how the woman they are talking to might react. I decided there was nothing for it but to give him a gentle nudge.

“How did Barbara's netball final go?” I asked.

“Fine,” he replied. “The result went down to the wire, but they won by a couple of points with seconds to spare.”

“I'm so glad your parents were there to see it. That would have meant the world to her.”

He responded, gratefully I thought. “It did. Look Harriet, they do really want to meet you, but maybe for the first time it might be better if we all got together for coffee somewhere – what do you think?”

“You're right Reggie, it was a bit thoughtless of me to invite them to lunch with all the family there, to see me as I am now for the first time.”

“I'm sure they'll love you just as I do when they get to know you,” he said.

“Look Reggie, I can understand how they must be feeling, you going out with a girl like me, I really do. They would much prefer you to find a genetic girl who you could marry and have children with.”

Reggie looked like he wanted to cry. Fortunately we were just coming up to a service area.

“Why don't you pull in here so we can talk about it,” I said. Wordlessly he did as I suggested. Once he had parked the car, I turned to him and took his hand in mine.

“Reggie, I care about you deeply, you know I do, but if you ever feel that being with me is not what's right for you, then you must tell me.”

His lip trembled. “It sounds almost as if you are letting me go gently Harriet. Are you saying that this isn't right for you?”

It was my turn to feel emotional now. “No Reggie, I'm saying I care so much about you that I want you to be happy even if it's at the expense of my own happiness. You'll be going to York University soon. There will be lots of young women there and they are bound to be attracted to someone like you. If I say that you mustn't get involved in any way with them, you might come to resent me. I suppose I'm saying that I want to set you free, and if you come back to me of your own free will, then I will know that we will always be together. If that doesn't happen, I still hope we will always be friends.”

Reggie looked intently at me. “You would do that for me?”

“Yes Reggie, I would.” By a tremendous effort of will I was keeping my emotions under control.

“I always thought that you are the most amazing person I know, and what you have just said confirms it. That is the most selfless act I can think of anyone doing for another person short of laying down their life for them,” he said. “I love you Harriet Stow and I always will. Remember that won't you?”

Despite my best efforts, a single tear ran down my cheek, and Reggie brushed it away with his hand, lovingly caressing me. I leaned forward and we kissed. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but one so full of love that I thought to myself 'I will never forget this moment, never.'

After a while Reggie said “I suppose we had better be on our way if we're going to reach Stratford before it gets dark!” There was little chance of that or course, but it lightened our mood.

We drove on south, stopping at one point to eat our sandwiches and have a drink from the thermos that Mum had thoughtfully provided. At Junction 21 we turned off onto the M69 and now we were heading south-west on our way to Stratford. We had resumed chatting and the strained atmosphere that had existed before our talk had quite disappeared. I mentioned to Reggie again that I was thinking of taking driving lessons, and since I was not going to live in London for a while at least, I might even get a small car.

“I'll teach you if you like, although I have heard that trying to teach driving to a close friend or relative can lead to some frightful rows,” he said smiling.

“In that case, perhaps I'd better pay for an instructor,” I replied.

At long last we arrived at Stratford, and following the directions that Phoebe had emailed to me, we pulled up outside the small apartment block where my new home was to be for a few months at least. Reggie lifted my two suitcases out of the boot and pulled them to the door which fortunately was on the ground floor, and I rang to door bell.

To be continued

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Louise Anne in proofreading the text and giving me a great deal of useful advice about modern-day Britain to incorporate in the story.