I went to school with my mate Jamie McLeod and we were in the same class. For most of our lives we never lived far away from each other. It’s only in the last few years that changed. We both had no siblings and were close when we were kids. He was small and skinny but bright and he helped me with school work and I kept the bullies off his back. We’d have been eight when his mum died, which made his life a lot harder because he and his dad didn’t really get on. Actually it’s probably more true to say his dad didn’t like him. He’s still my best mate, that sort of thing lasts a lifetime, but the older we became the further apart we drifted as our lives became more and more different. By the time we were twenty, the only thing we had in common was we were Rangers fans.

I left school with decent, but not brilliant, exam results. I didn’t fancy a shedload of debt for going to university that would take me twenty years to pay off, so I figured it was better to be a clever tradesman and make some money. I was offered an apprenticeship as an electrician. I was asked why I hadn’t gone to university and I could see they thought they’d done well to get me when I explained. As soon as I started work I started saving my money and found an investment advisor, but I didn’t tell anyone about her because they’d have said I was a snob and thought I was better than they were. I didn’t think so, but I didn’t want to be poor and I desperately wanted out of Cumbernauld, which was a sixties new town that well deserved its reputation as a concrete version of Hell but without the amenities.

I wanted to put money by to buy my own house in a decent area. Even then I knew I wanted to find a decent girl to marry and have a family with that I could provide for with a decent lifestyle. I suppose if that made me a snob then maybe I was. I certainly am now and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m no film star in the looks department and I’m certainly no athlete. I’ve a good sense of humour, an easy going nature and it would certainly never even occur to me to hit a lassie. I’m five nine, of a moderate build with curly dark hair, so despite Gran being Irish and putting ginger genes and freckles in the family I’d be a reasonable even if not a brilliant catch.

As a teenager Jamie had started undersized and skinny at eleven and he hadn’t changed much by the time he was sixteen. I think puberty hadn’t even known he was there, so he was bullied at high school. He was also blondish with a hint of red and got picked on for that too. I know now it’s called strawberry blonde, but it was just ginger in those days. He was also left handed and wore glasses neither of which helped him. Despite my best attempts to protect him he became a poor attender. Although unknown to others, I knew he was clever, but he kept his mouth shut, so never shone in the way that he should have done. He left school with nothing because he didn’t bother going in to sit the exams. Other than temporary and part time Mac jobs to the best of my knowledge he never worked after leaving school; then he just disappeared and I didn’t see him for a long time. He used to wear sports clothes a lot, but he didn’t play anything, nor even go to the gym. I haven’t seen him for two or three years now, but he used to live with his dad in one of the high rises in Cumbernauld.

After we left school there always was something that didn’t quite ring true about him. I’d see his dad around, but we never spoke. His dad is a member of an orange lodge and a bit too extreme for my taste. I always got the impression that Jamie masqueraded as a hard line Rangers fan just to please his dad. Jamie occasionally made racist remarks, but again I noticed only when his dad could hear, and I think that was just to please his dad too. Politically Jamie’s views tended to be those of whomever he’d spoken to last as long as they were vaguely left of centre, but I don’t think he was ever interested in politics. At the time he said he was against independence for Scotland, but he never voted, not even in the independence referendum.

Someone told me a few months ago he’d gone away to somewhere near Lincoln a while back, which surprised me because as far as I’d been aware he’d never been south of the border, nor further away from Cumbernauld than a Rangers match would take him and he never had any money.

His Auntie Agnes told me that after a row with his dad, he’d lived with her for a month, but she’d threwn him out because he was never off his computer looking at what she described as ‘dirty, filthy stuff’. That surprised me too because I’d never seen any signs that Jamie was aware of sex. He’d never told dirty jokes nor stories, and he didn’t seem to get them when others did. For sure, he’d never shewn any sign of interest in girls, nor boys neither come to that.

I finally put a deposit down on a cheap four bedroomed house that needed a lot doing to it, like half a roof and a gable end wall, set in four acres of quality grazing land with a burn running through it about thirty miles from work’s office. But seeing as work could be anywhere within a hundred miles that needed us the distance from work made no odds. Part of my family have been crofters for ever, and I’d no idea that crofting was impossible to get out of your blood. At the moment I rent the land out for half a beast a year for the freezer, it’s the water that’s the big attraction to the farmer who rents it, but I intend to work the land myself one day in the not too far distant future. I have half a dozen hens. I’d like some ducks too, but that’ll have to wait till I have time to do something about it. I’ve had the roof and the gable fixed and I’ve been busy moving in recently, but I’m not going to find a wife in my orchard, so I’ve decided I need to get out at least a couple of nights a week.

It’s a funny world really, I was in my local one night when I heard a woman’s voice say, “Hamish! Hamish McBride, what on earth are you doing here?” As she moved towards me she held her arms out clearly expecting a hug. As we hugged she kissed my cheek, so I returned the kiss. I’d always liked Jean, but she was on some guy’s arm, so no joy there. “This is Angus, Hamish.” She shewed me her engagement ring, “Hamish, we’re getting married at Easter. Angus, Hamish has been my cousin Jamie’s best friend virtually since they were in their prams.”

As Angus and I shook hands, I said, “He’s still my best mate, Jean, even if I’ve not seen him for a couple of years. Where is he, and how is he doing? I went round to his dad’s place, but his dad said he’d no idea where he was and then refused to talk about him. I’d really like to contact him and take him out for a few beers.”

“You must be the only person who doesn’t know, Hamish. He inherited a fortune and an estate near Lincoln from a distant relative. Uncle Robert was as mad as hell fire Jamie got it and not him, specially when Jamie refused to even look at the place. The solicitor told him there were staff and everything. Jamie said, ‘Sell it. Sell the lot.’ There was a lot of squealing about it having been in the family for seven generations and what about the thirty jobs of the staff. Jamie had not long come out of hospital. He’d been badly beaten up by some thug he went to school with who the papers said was a professional footballer. He got beaten up for the way he looks and wasn’t in a forgiving frame of mind. He told the solicitor, ‘I live here, and I’m not going to live in England. Sell the lot, pay the redundancies that are due, or let the staff stay till there’s a buyer, but I don’t want any part of it.’ ”

“Would that footballer have been Ryan Campbell?”

“Aye. I mind now that was his name. The place was sold and Jamie’s worth over a hundred million and hasn’t been seen since. Uncle Robert is now in a nursing home with early onset dementia and he doesn’t even remember he has a son. The authorities tried to get Jamie to pay for his care. Jamie told them to go and play marbles on the M74. He said his dad had threwn him out onto the street in the middle of winter and accused him of being shirt lifter, so as far as he was concerned they could threw his dad out onto the street too. It was emotional blackmail, and they were just trying it on. They knew they couldn’t make Jamie pay, and he disappeared not long after that.”

“Well, if the estate were sold I doubt if he’s there. Didn’t he give anybody any clues where he was going?”

“No. After his dad threw him out, he stayed with Auntie Agnes for a while. But he had a huge row with her. He told her she was a dirty minded cailleach without a charitable bone in her body and he’d see her freeze and starve to death with her brother Robert before helping either of them. That was after he’d inherited the money but before she knew about it. She told Mum Jamie had said something about going abroad for a holiday which would put him to rights and that he’d added he didn’t care if he never laid eyes on his dad nor Auntie Agnes again. He always was sensitive and stubborn, so wherever he’s gone maybe he’s not coming back. I hope he does, because I always liked him, and I thought Uncle Robert gave him a raw deal after Auntie Helen died, and for sure Auntie Agnes isn’t the nicest of folk. I’ve avoided her for years. Jamie always was too gentle for his own good, but I loved him for it, and I and a lot of others in the family still do. If you catch up with him, do us all a favour and tell him that will you?”

I said I would and we caught up on what had happened since we’d last talked. We swapped contact details, and I was promised an invitation to the wedding. Angus struck me as a really good bloke, and a really lucky one too for having caught Jean. He had no problem that Jean and I talked about a lot of folk he’d never met, and was clearly interested in her family and especially Jamie. When Jean went to the ladies’, he made it clear to me that he would be really grateful if when I caught up with Jamie I’d let Jean know, for, “She’s talked about Jamie a lot and is really worried about him. In that talk your name came up frequently. She believes he’s probably gay and is staying away because he has found a partner and isn’t prepared to deal with the crap that will cause. Neither of us care about that, for that is his business not ours, but she would like to have contact with him and his partner too if he has one. She has never said so, but I know she also believes if anyone can find him it’s you. I love Jean, and whatever comes out of all this I shall be eternally grateful if you put her back in contact with the cousin she clearly loves and misses and is worried to death about.”

I promised Angus that I would keep Jean in the loop, for as I said, “I like Jean, and had she not met you I would have been interested in her as a wife. You are a lucky man, Angus, and I envy you, so please take care of Jean. I do however believe that Jamie is not gay. I don’t know why I believe that, but I do. I’ll let your belovèd know as much as I do as soon as I know it. Jamie is different, Jamie has always been different. He has been my best mate for a long time. I miss him. I miss him in a different way from the way that Jean misses him, but nay the less I miss him, and I miss him badly, cos we’ve been mates since before we even knew what that meant.”

Time went on and I was promoted at work which enabled me to have to the three-quarter mile dirt road to my house covered with four inches of hot tarmacadam road planings and road rolled by a huge vibrating road roller. No big deal to anyone else, but it was to me. Apart from not getting anywhere looking for a girlfriend with a view to finding a wife life was good. I wasn’t sure how to take it, but I met plenty of girls who were interested in me till they found out how far out into the sticks I lived, and that not all my walls had plaster on them yet. Most would rather have lived in an apartment flat in Cumbernauld, many did, but there was no way I was going back there, nor to anywhere like it in say Easterhouse or East Kilbride, so I accepted the rejections, moved on and kept looking. I met a couple of nice lassies at Jean’s wedding, but the only one I was drawn to was clearly trying to avoid me. I know how to take a hint, so I left well alone.

I was busy with the house renovations for the best part of two years. The mortgage was manageable, but I wasn’t prepared to borrow any more money, so I had work done as I earnt the money to pay for it. The best thing I did was buy the Indian runner ducks, for no matter how bad my day had been just watching them walk made me laugh. Then I got a new job which involved far less travelling which meant less money spent on fuel for the van. I was in charge of a small group of sparks, it started with four and worked its way up to nine, ten counting me. I had to spend half a day a week at the office doing the paperwork for all of us. I enjoyed that because that’s where the office girls were, and I was seriously interested in the office girls as potential wife and mother material.

I’d had my new job three weeks, and it was my Wednesday afternoon in the office when I saw her at the photocopier station. She was the girl who’d avoided me at Jean’s wedding. Later that afternoon, I was in the cafeteria getting a buttered teacake and a cup of tea when I heard what I thought was an unplaceable, yet somehow familiar, voice behind me. I turned and there she was. She blushed, smiled, and said, “It’s Hamish isn’t it? Hamish McBride. I work in finance and when I did the receipts and invoices for your team earlier you were pointed out to me.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, but eventually I said, “I saw you at Jean’s wedding. That was you wasn’t it? I thought you were trying to avoid me. Else I’d have asked you to dance.”

“I was, which was silly of me. It’s a long story, and this isn’t the place for it. I wish I hadn’t been so silly because I’d have liked that dance, but never mind it’s water under the bridge the now.” She noticed me looking at her hands and held them up saying, “No. I’m not married and not in a relationship. You?”

“No. I’ve been looking for a long time, but I come from crofting stock and bought a holding out in the sticks that needed a lot doing to it. I like living there, but all the girls I’ve met think I’m some kind of weirdo for living in a house that isn’t finished yet. Result? End of relationship! More realistically the result was usually no chance of a relationship even starting, so I’m still looking. I’m looking for a wife who would be happy to give me children, so we could live as a family. I’m willing to work as many hours as needed to finance that. Given that I’m a weirdo who lives miles out in the sticks in a house on a holding with most of its rooms still unplastered, would you like to go for a drink with me on Friday?”

She hesitated and eventually said, “Aye. I would, and I appreciate your honesty concerning how you wish to live. It’s Janice, by the way. You hadn’t asked.” She smiled and gave me her mobile number and said, “Ring me on Thursday after seven.” Then she was gone.

I couldn’t get her out of my mind, and I was seriously bothered by the idea of her working with twenty odd blokes back at the office. She was bloody gorgeous in a demure and shy kind of a way, and for some reason I couldn’t fathom I felt I understood how she thought. Five five or five six maybe, then again five one or five two if you took the heels off. Blonde with rose highlights, but hell the way women are her own hair colour could be anything. I’m no expert, but she didn’t seem to have been wearing a great deal of make up, but then I told myself that what it’s supposed to do in the hands of a girl who knows what she’s doing isn’t it? Make her look good without you knowing it’s even there.

She was decidedly feminine without being in any way tarty like a lot of the office girls. She wasn’t big, but I could tell she was wearing a bra even if it wasn’t in evidence under her blouse because she was wearing some kind of other garment as well that I didn’t know the name of, and I liked that. Without being in any way dowdy her skirt was a bit longer than those of the other girls which to me gave her a bit of class. She clearly cared that she looked feminine, yet had a deal of self respect. I ran all that and lots more through my mind over and over again. Even I knew I’d got a bad case. I couldn’t wait to hear her voice again on Thursday.

I rang her at quarter past seven, I couldn’t make myself wait any longer. We chatted for half an hour, and after I put the phone down I couldn’t stop thinking about her voice. It was slightly higher than average for a woman, but not much, and it kind of purred like a cat. It was hypnotic, one of those distinctive voices everyone recognises in a film actress even if they’ve only heard it once.

I picked her up from the flat she shared with a girl friend in my now cleaned out van at eight, and we went to one of my favourite pubs. It was a place that sold a decent alcohol free larger, so if you were driving you could drink what ever you wanted. Janice had a freshly squeezed orange juice with grenadine and ice in a tall glass. We had a couple of drinks before I asked her, “Would you like to dance? There’s a place with a decent dance floor about ten minutes away, the beer’s rubbish, and the music’s too loud for enjoyable conversation, but there’s always a good crowd, and it’s fun dancing there. I thought we could dance for a couple of hours and go to the local Harvest House for supper before I take you home.”

“That sounds like fun. Okay, I’m up for that.”

We danced with little conversation, and as it was winding down I had my arm around her. She was a fragrant armful and I could tell it wasn’t all scent out of a bottle. We left hand in hand and talked in the van about what we would order to eat.

“What do you normally have, Hamish?”

“Well I’m not exactly the most adventurous of eaters, so I usually stick with chicken and chips [US fries] in the basket. Why?”

“I fancy steak and chips, but there’s no chance I can eat more than a quarter of a Harvest House steak, so I wondered if three-quarters of a steak with chips would be enough for you?”

“That’ll do me. I always end up leaving a pile of chips anyway. That what you want to do? Two chips, one steak and a single side salad on two plates.”

“Aye. Please.”

“Okay. I’ll say this there’re are not many girls as honest as you nor as easy on the wallet.”

Janice blushed, but said nothing. Surprisingly we only had to wait a few minutes for a table and after explaining what we wanted to the waitress she asked, “Would you like me to ask chef to cut the steak for you, Sir, Madam?”

Janice replied, “Please, but ask him to make sure mine is only a quarter. I’ve seen the size of your steaks and a quarter of one is all I could possibly eat.”

After eating I said, “Damn good idea that, Janice, and I still left some chips. You sure you’ve had enough to eat? What about desert, or Coffee?”

“No thank you. I really enjoyed that, and it was enough. Take me home, and I’ll make you coffee. I doubt Daphne will be in yet, but even if she is we can drink it in my room.”

Daphne hadn’t returned, so we sat in the shared sitting room. I told her I’d like to see her again and she said she’d like that too, but there were things to discuss first. I moved towards her with the intention of seeing if I was going to be lucky enough to kiss her. God knows I wanted to. But she held her hand up and said, “Maybe later.” She was obviously organising her thoughts before she asked, “You’ve no idea who I am have you, Hamish?”

“I assumed you were a relative of Jean’s, but I don’t know much about her family. I only know her because her cousin Jamie has been a good mate of mine from us being just out of nappies. Though I haven’t seen him for a few years now.”

“I know, and you’ll never see him again. I trust you are not going to hurt me, Hamish, but I was Jamie McLeod. I’m now Janice McLeod, but I’m the same person.”

“Fuck me!” I couldn’t think of anything more intelligent than that to say, nor indeed anything else that wasn’t intelligent either.

Janice was obviously much more at ease with the situation than I was and mischievously replied, “Maybe later? But there’s a lot of ground to cover first. I’ll get us another coffee?”

“Please. And I’ve no more intention of hurting you now than I had when we were kids.”

Janice returned with the coffees and said, “How do you want to do this? Me tell it, or you ask questions?”

“A bit of both I suppose. Does Jean know?”

“She does now, and is fine with it. She didn’t know at the wedding. I went as the girlfriend of another relative who hadn’t got anyone to go with. He’s fine with it too, but I think Aunt Agnes is still trying to find more bible passages to justify burning me at the stake.”

“What about your flat mate?”

“Daphne’s into girls and has friends of every description. I think she’d be disappointed if I were what she describes as bormal.”

“You start now, Janice. Okay if I interrupt?

“Aye, no problem. You know I never got on with Dad. I just wasn’t man enough for him. I tried, but nothing I did was ever enough. You know what I was like as a kid on the outside, but on the inside I was one mixed up child. I’d no idea what I was, but I knew I didn’t fit into any pigeon hole created by so called normal society. I’d never heard of trans people. Girls ignored or insulted me, and boys did nothing but taunt and hurt me. You’ve no idea how grateful I was for your protection.”

“I never did enough.”

“You did what you could. I was just drifting after school. Dad was on my back all the time to man up and get a proper job, a job that paid a real man’s wage. I got the jobs easily enough, trouble was I usually got beaten up by the ‘real men’ at work. So I stuck with part time and temporary work that paid peanuts. I worked behind a lot of bars and waited on a lot of tables. It was when I applied for a job waiting on at The Latté, that café with the tables outside on the high street, that it got complicated. I applied over the phone, and was asked what was my build and how tall was I for the uniform. I told them I was five one and slender and was told to pick up four sets of uniforms to take home as I would be responsible for washing them.

“That was on the Thursday and I started work on the Saturday. I picked the parcel of uniforms up, which I was told had been laundered for me to start with, later that afternoon. I took them home and dropped them on my bed before going shopping for food. I got home to find Dad going ballistic. He’d opened the parcel, and it contained waitresses’ uniforms, not waiters’. He knocked me about and gave me half an hour to clear my stuff. I was out on the street. He called me all kinds of things of which a poncey shirt lifting poofter was the kindest. Afterwards I could see how it happened. Five foot one, slender and with a voice that was easy to mistake for a girl’s, but the mistake had made me happy and it started me thinking.”

“Was then when you went to your Auntie Agnes?”

“Aye. And that’s where I tried on the waitress’ uniform once she’d gone out. I looked in the mirror and it all clicked into place. There was a pretty looking girl staring back at me, and I liked her in a way I had never liked Jamie. I got my hair done on the Friday and bought a pair of girl’s shoes and some nail polish. I wore the shoes and nail polish with a tee shirt and jeans to work. No one said anything and I changed into the uniform and did a day’s work as a girl. Waitresses make a lot more in tips than waiters. The tips were more than my wages and I overheard one of the other girls say, ‘The customers love the new girl. What’s her name?’ When asked, I’d told the manageress my name was Janice McLeod. Janice was born right then and there, and that’s what I’ve been called ever since. Legally after signing the deed poll document I’m Janice Margaret McLeod now. Margaret was Mum’s name. I bought some cosmetics on the way home from Boots the chemists. I also bought a couple of bras at M&S to wear at work with socks in, but I liked the way they made me feel so I wore them all the time. A couple of weeks later I was wearing breast forms.” Janice noticed the blank look on my face and explained, “Silicone falsies. They weren’t big and Auntie Agnes doesn’t see too well, so she never noticed the make up, hair, shoes nor the boobs. I had my uniforms washed and starched for me at the launderette. By then, I knew there were boys born with girls in their heads and was researching it on my laptop when Aunt Agnes discovered me. She totally freaked, screaming at me for watching porn in her house. You can imagine it, she quoted a bible and a half at me in under two minutes and threw me out onto the street just like Dad did.”

“Was that when you inherited the money?”

“Just after the money, but I still wasn’t convinced it wasn’t an elaborate hoax, so I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. Dad had been informed by the solicitors when they were trying to find me, and he went nuts that I’d got the money not him. He wanted me to come back home, but I wasn’t going back after he’d chucked me out, and he was only seeing me as a source of easy cash. Auntie Agnes had given me a hard time for watching pornography, but it was actually sexual reassignment surgery videos I was watching. We had a hell of a row and I left. I was homeless so I decided to put the hoax to the test. I rang the solicitors and explained my predicament. They immediately wired ten thousand pounds to me to pick up at a bank of my choice. I chose one I could see from the phone box, they gave me a password, I collected the money and I got a hotel room. Only when I got the money did I believe it wasn’t a hoax.

“I heard you got hurt by Ryan Campbell and ended up in hospital. What was that all about?”

“I got badly beaten up by some thugs for being a shrimpy pansy and was in hospital for eleven days. It really shocked me that Ryan who was in the top year when we were first years at secondary school turned out to be the ringleader. I didn’t recognise him at the time though. I knew he wasn’t over bright. I know he used to go for special needs reading and writing lessons when the rest of his year group had English lessons. I mind he used to get laught at for speaking in long streams of cliché riddled nonsense he’d picked up from the telly which he seemed to think meant something. Most of what he said was stating the obvious or saying nothing that had any meaning. The top set kids used say, ‘That’s a Ryanism,’ when ever someone said anything particularly stupid, but I never had him down as a thug, Hamish.”

“Aye, well, Janice, I can’t say that surprises me. I don’t think you could have known him very well. He always was selfish and thought the world owed him a living. You never had anything to do with sport, but he was good at football and thought that should get him respect and he should be able to do what ever he wanted and say whatever he wanted about whomever he wanted to say it about. After he left school he got an apprenticeship as a professional footballer, but for the first time in his life he met better players than he was and he didn’t like it.”

“I don’t get the connection. He must have been on good money. Most boys would kill for that kind of opportunity. Why would he go out spoiling for a fight because he obviously was.”

“He always had a low flash point, but after leaving school he got into a lot of fights usually after he’d taken a drink. That’s when the real Ryan came out, a thuggish loudmouth subject to road rage. God alone knows how many expensive new cars he wrote off, or what his insurance would have been. He was never out of trouble, but he was worth enough to the team to cover for him. After his first appearance for the team proper, he was earning a lot of money and thought that made him of more significance than poorer mortals like me. He thought he was God’s gift to women and for a few years he and his wallet were, but none of them were the kind of women I’ve ever wanted to have anything to do with.”

“So what happened?”

“I think it must have just crept up on him. Maybe eighteen months ago, it was a bank holiday weekend, I went on a walking and fishing holiday with Jason from work. It wasn’t far away, just Argyllshire, we were more interested in the exercise and the fishing than touristing somewhere new. We were out walking on the hills that Sunday afternoon and we saw Ryan out running. I know he recognised me, but he didn’t even nod. I subsequently found out he was slowing down because he was carrying too much weight and had been told by the coach to lose it and sort himself out or he was history. He was having to train hard to retain his place in the team. Now of course he’s what? Turned thirty and his career is nearly over, he’ll be staring retirement in the face.

“Surely he’s got ten years left before that happens?”

I grinned and replied, “For a Rangers fan you know precious little about the game. Goal keepers often last well into their forties, but not the rest of the team, and goal scorers even less so. Talk is he bitterly resents age creeping up on him as he has saved virtually nothing having spent it on wild living and extravagance, and a lot of it has gone spent on sycophantic ego panderers who will drop him as soon as he is replaced by a player nearer to twenty than forty. I suspect he’s bright enough to be not looking forward to the future as the nonentity he always has been, cos for sure he’s not bright enough to go into coaching nor managing. With his temper he’ll probably end up having a long stretch of bed and breakfast courtesy of Her Majesty at HMP Barlinnie. So what happened next?”

“He was bound over for three years because it was his first court appearance. If he gets into trouble in the meantime he does two years inside. Some of the others had previous convictions and were sent down for up to three years. Before the court appearance whilst I was still in hospital, Dad had what I was told was actually a minor stroke, but it could seem to be early dementia. When I got out of hospital I went to see him. I’m not proud of it now, but I’ll admit to you I went to see him purely from spite, but he’d no idea who I was. They tried to make me pay for his care in a nursing home, so they could free up a bed. At the time I still looked like hell, I was in a lot of pain despite the pain killers I was taking and I was covered in bandages and dressings. I don’t like emotional blackmail at the best of times, and I suspect the pain I was in was why I lost it with them and walked out.”

“Jean told me you told them to fuck off and play marbles on the M74.”

“Aye well like I said I lost it. I didn’t need to work any more, so I spent my time researching trans issues. I’d been wearing my usual track suit type clothes when I’d been beaten up, but after that I went shopping, donated all my boys’ clothes to a charity shop and I’ve only worn skirts and dresses since. I started wearing contact lenses not glasses which made me feel a lot better about myself. I got my hair and nails done properly and had no problems after that with men other than ones caused by testosterone fuelled idiots. With the money it was no problem to find myself some good doctors, shrinks and surgeons and two years later I was no longer a work in progress.”

“Was that the holiday abroad that you told your aunt would set you to rights?”

“Aye. Worst and best holiday you can imagine. A girl definitely looks at her worst after SRS. Fortunately I’d responded well to the hormones and I didn’t need anything doing to my face. I don’t wear contacts any more because I had laser surgery on my eyes and my sight is now perfect. I’m pleased with the way I look now.”

I agreed with that. Janice was a looker, and I couldn’t see the Jamie in her. She looked completely different to me. “So how come you’re working in the office? You obviously don’t need to.”

“It started when I booked a fortnight’s holiday in Spain which was based around a course on make up, hair and similar things for trans women. A trans woman called Julia Prendergast had the idea five years ago, and the original investors were all trans women. The holiday including the course she had originally envisaged to be only of interest to trans women. However, it soon had a reputation for excellence and cis women started to be interested too. I was told my intake was now typical with about half of us being trans, but that sometimes there were hardly any trans women at all booking the holiday. There had even been one group that had been completely cis.

“After that I was back in learning mode, and since I’d always been bothered that I left school with nothing I took some book keeping and accounting courses at a local adult education centre. I wanted to try them out hence the job. I was going to look you up, then you turned up at work and asked me out. I’ve had a lovely evening. Thank you, Hamish. If you don’t wish to kiss me now I shan’t be offended, but if you do…” Ye Gods did I? That took a while and it became a little steamy. “It’s all all right, Hamish. I’ll not be offended no matter what you do, for I’ve dreamt of you and I being together since I was old enough to dream. They’re real and home grown, no silicone there. You can touch whatever you want.” Did I want‽ I wanted, and and I touched. Bliss.

Like I said, I couldn’t see any Jamie in Janice. Sure they were the same height when she took her heels off, but Jamie had been skinny, yet Janice was slender, but filled out every where you’d expect a woman to be filled out. She teased me by moving her bottom over my lap causing the effect she’d desired. “My, my! You do want to kiss me don’t you!” Her breasts weren’t large, but they filled my hands as they moulded themselves into my palms and it was obvious she was enjoying herself as much as I was. The biggest difference between shy introverted Jamie and Janice was her confidence. She was a woman, proud of it and she clearly enjoyed every second of it.

Half an hour later Daphne and her latest girlfriend came in, “Hmm, nice, Sweets! If I were into men I’d scratch your eyes out for that one. It’s about time you started paying your friend some attention.” Clearly Daphne and her friend were no shrinking violets, but in her response I saw a firmness in Janice that Jamie had never had.

“Behave yourself, Daph. This is Hamish. I’ve known him since I was about three. He kept the bullies in line for me till we left school.”

That did impress Daphne, and she immediately dropped the attitude and said, “Sorry, Hamish. I’d no idea you were one of the good guys. There aren’t too many of them about. Flo and I are going to bed. She read about a couple of things she wants to try. See you at breakfast and I’ll smack both your bottoms if you behave yourselves. Night.” Flo pulled her into Daphne’s room and I heard the latch click.

“You freaked out, Hamish?”

“No. I don’t mean to be insulting, but I don’t think I ever saw Jamie as a boy really. He was someone I cared about and cared for as well as I could, but he was just Jamie and he was different. However, you’re not Jamie. When I look at you I don’t see any Jamie in you, I can only see Janice. You’re Janice, and I’ve only ever seen you as a girl.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. So are you interested in field testing my new equipment? I don’t know how that will go because it’s never been used before.”

“Aye, I’m more than interested.” I was pulled into the bedroom and it was dawn when we finally fell asleep.

I wasn’t a man with a great deal of experience with women, and I was more nervous than Janice. She undressed us both making a game of it that must have lasted half an hour. Naked, no one would have questioned she was a woman not even after a close look, and I had a very close look. Janice was giggling as I looked and she said, “They did a good job didn’t they? The scars are hairline thin and in the folds so you don’t notice them. You won’t see anything under my breasts. I told you, they’re completely DIY with the aid of the hormones. I could have had them bigger with implants, but I like them just the way they are. I don’t know if you remember my mum, but older relatives say I look a lot like her and she wasn’t a big woman.” I liked them just the way they were too, not even in pictures, nor on video had I seen so perfectly matched a pair of breasts, and on Janice’s petite frame they made her look beautiful and in perfect proportion.

Janice was much like any other woman to make love with, well much like the handful I’d made love with. Women, and I suppose men too, are similar in their shared attributes and yet unique due to their differences too. One of the things that made Janice unique was that in just the few days since meeting her I’d come to love her, and that made her completely different from all other women. That night she was impressed by my performance, but added, “I’m even more impressed by my own. Those surgeons really did know what they were doing. Now, impress me some more, Hamish.”

That night was the first of many. We endlessly discussed our childhoods and the relationship we’d had that had changed over the years. Janice concluded that she always had been a girl, yet she just hadn’t been aware of it till a long time had passed. She told me, “I always had a crush on you you know. You were big and strong and took care of me. I never wanted to be like you, but I always liked being around you.” I couldn’t say I had feelings like that for Jamie, but I’ve never liked bullying, nor Ryan, so I’d always considered protecting Jamie had been the right thing to do. It was difficult, but I came to accept the death of my mate Jamie, and it was a gentle death without any grief.

We moved into a relationship without having to discuss it because though Janice was a new person to me she had known me for her entire memory. Janice enjoyed spending time at my house and despite my objections thought nothing of spending money on the place. She had the bathroom gutted and completely refitted with a very expensive bathroom suit. When I protested she told me to back off because, and I quote, ‘After having a bath in there or using the loo I always feel like I need a proper bath to get clean, so I’m sorting it out. You’re a bloke, so you can live with it, but I’m a girl and I’m not prepared to live with it because it’s disgusting. You don’t have to like it, but I don’t care, cos I’m not putting up with it any longer. The money is nothing. I love you and want to be here with you, but I’m a girl and I want to feel clean, so I want a decent bathroom. Like I said, I’m in love with you, Hamish, so please allow me to be happy about loving you in your home.’ I had to agree with her argument, for I knew she was telling me the truth as she saw it and I loved her. I knew the money was nothing in her eyes, but having a completely modern bathroom mattered to her. Later, perhaps more significantly, and I knew purely to please me, she invested in some rather tight jeans which was a novel experience for her, and an enjoyable one for me because she did look good in them especially from behind. Despite the hard work involved, which she didn’t seem to consider important, Janice enjoyed crofting with me at week ends, and eventually she decided to move in with me. Flo took her room with Daphne.

I’d always looked after Jamie, probably without knowing why, but now I love Janice, and I know exactly why. She is the woman of my dreams, even if I was not aware of my dreams. Six months after meeting her, my boyhood mate Jamie McLeod became my adult soul mate Janice McBride and we’re looking for a place with more land, more bedrooms and into adoption.

Our four children, who were all damaged beyond anyone’s understanding, including our own, are now the children of a man who Janice maintains is the father all children dream of. However, I know they are the children of a mother who loves them more than she loves herself. The children are all becoming children of parents who they know love them, and that makes Janice and I happy concerning the situation. I know it will not be long before we decide to adopt at least another four children. Janice is a truly, wonderfully, understanding mother. I believe her purchase of McBride kilts for the boys, along with all that goes with the kilts, and McBride dress skirts for the girls, again with all that goes with that, has settled our children into their new family. The children are aware of the cost of such clothing, and that their parents regard it as necessary expenditure on their behalf for them to be truly members of clan McBride has given them a sense of belonging they could not otherwise obtain. Janice is truly a natural wife and mother, for her thoughts are mostly about her children and their father. I can’t imagine finding a better and more loving wife. I have been a lucky man.

Janice has recently become interested in Highland cattle as a consequence of our children’s questions concerning their internet searches. Glaswegians all have western highland and island connections, and Janice wants us to buy a property somewhere on the north west coast with enough acreage to enable our children and ultimately their children to breed Highland cattle. She already has fourteen quality Highland heifers, but she’s currently looking for a quality bull. Last week she said she doesn’t care what it costs to buy a top quality bull, for she wants one for the children’s Christmas present. I do love my wife, but she is unusual. Then again perhaps that’s why I love her so much. I have found a six hundred and thirty-two acre farm with a shore line facing Skye. We exchange contracts next week, and I have bought a herd of two hundred and odd sheep used to grazing on shoreline seaweed. The children are thrilled and can’t wait to move to the somewhat dilapidated farmhouse. They were however initially concerned as to how the dogs and cats are going to be relocated to their new home, but I’ve explained there will be no problem and none will be left behind. Janice and I have both negotiated new jobs with our existing employers based further north. We are both going to be paid pro-rata, but with travelling expenses for any future work. I’ve been on a two day course on gelding calves and Janice has negotiated a price for Highland beef bullocks with a not too far away butcher who has a licenced slaughter house. All is looking well for Janice, I and our children.

We have now been at our new home for six months. There is no longer any doubt that we can not only make a living here but we can make significant investments for our future and our children. Janice has told me she wishes to adopt at least another dozen children via the Glasgow Social Services. I have no problems with that, for we can easily afford to do so, though I am distressed thinking about those who will remain with no more than the Social Services provided help, for time over I was one of them.