“You forgot what your predecessor’s original name was, didn’t you?”

I blushed furiously, “Okay, so I forgot. So what?”

“I’m gonna tell Tom on you,” Stella piped at me in an artificial voice.

“Go ahead, but next time Simon pulls your pigtails, don’t expect me to help you, miss tell tale tit.”

“But I need you to protect me from the big bully.”

“Tough, the price of protection has gone up to two packets of crisps a day, and that only includes break an lunch time. Once school finishes, you’re on your own, unless you want to pay extra.”

“I think we’ll stop there, Cathy, you’re beginning to sound like big Brenda.”

“Who’s big Brenda?”

“A girl I was in school with, she was much bigger than anyone else, fattish but also very strong. Most of the boys at Millfied were terrified of big Brenda.”

“In my school, we had a whole pile of Mafiosi. The black kids were the toughest, but if you gave them no excuse, they usually left you alone. Once or twice they tried to take my dinner money from me, but I refused. I got thumped a few times, but they went off after easier pickings. I didn’t fight back, but neither did I give in. I got called all sorts of names, usually questioning my gender or sexuality.”

“Did you know then, you were really a girl?”

“Definitely, but I wouldn’t have admitted it. I was partly in denial, I suppose. It was also such an outlandish concept, that I had to keep it hidden. They’d have annihilated me.”

“You were really brave to come out at university.”

“Only because some silly bugger hit me off my bike and their brother thought I was a girl.”

“See, he could see it immediately.”

“Stella, I was wearing a skirt and high heeled boots, I mean what else could he have thought?”

“At the time, if I remember, you thought of endless possibilities for that list.”

“Well, I was very inexperienced in wearing the clothes, or living the part.”

“Do you remember tripping up and landing on top of him?”

“Um, do you think I’m ever going to forget it? I was so frightened, I thought he was going to kill me.”

“No, not Simon, he was too amused and enchanted by your falling for him.”

“I didn’t fall for him, I fell on top of him, there is a difference.”

“Yes, but Simon wasn’t aware of it, so it doesn’t really matter, does it. He was convinced you were a naíve young woman, who was painfully shy and had had a bad experience.”

“I had, his sister tried to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying at all, besides fancy going out in the dark without lights?”

“It was broad daylight, it was mid afternoon, in July.”

“You forgot the thunderstorm and the fact that it was as dark as night and you weren’t using lights.”

“It’s a race bike, it weighs about fifteen pounds, maybe sixteen with a puncture outfit and mini-pump or CO2 cylinder. Lights would add to that weight.”

“You aren’t going to try and tell me that half a pound of lights would make an enormous difference to your performance.”

“It could, especially over forty miles and a few big hills.”

“I ride too, or have you forgotten that?”

“No, Stella, I haven’t forgotten.”

“So I don’t think half a pound would make that much difference.”

“So why are you always complaining about the extra weight of Puddin’?”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah, one law for you and another for the rest of us.”

“Of course, and let’s face it, you proles wouldn’t really want us patrician types to be any different, would you?”

“Not before and during the revolution, no, why? We’ll just keep the tumbrels moving.”

“See, that’s your answer to everything, you peasants are all the same–brute force and ignorance.”

“We don’t have your levels of sophistication, your money, power and tame police force.”

“You seem to have plenty of neck, though.”

“As long as Madam G, doesn’t get to feel it, that’s okay with me.”

“Can’t promise anything when civil law breaks down, except that martial law will follow it.”

“I need to go to sleep now, Stella, I feel very tired.”

“So you not gonna wead wittle Stewwa, a storwy?”

“No chance, I’m knackered.” I switched off my bedside light, but she left hers on as she read Winnie the pooh. Thankfully, it didn’t disturb me; though turning over made my boobs move and the pain shot through them again.

Once again, I had a vague recollection of Mima getting into my bed, and when I awoke the next day, she was curled up asleep alongside us. This next morning she was fast asleep, last time she was wide awake. I cuddled around her gently, hoping she wouldn’t wake. She didn’t and we lay together for nearly a whole hour.

It was Friday, and Simon would be home tonight, we would need a little less of a haphazard system for sleeping tonight. I needed to speak to Stella about it, fairly urgently. I suppose it kept life interesting, occasionally too much so.

Feeling I was in the eye of whatever storm would hit, I relaxed and waited for the crunch as reality invaded my utopian sleep state.