Chapter 20 (Revised)   Simon Jones is Eve Jones. But she didn't know.

 
 
Previously:

Eve now understands why her mum pushed her to become a girl. Claire is still not talking.

Now the story continues.
 
 
 
Eve Chapter 20
 
 
 
Friday was going to be a much better day, even though I had an assignment to hand in, and hadn't written it yet.

I was up just before seven and had a quick shower so I could quickly be back in my room to work. I dashed through the kitchen for a mug of coffee. At half eight mum came to me to remind me that I hadn't had any breakfast, and that I had to see the Doctor at nine. She made a suggestion that had me stripping and redressing.

I saved my work and reluctantly followed mum downstairs. After a bowl of cereal we headed out of the door to catch the bus to the surgery. As I closed the front door, mum's car was driven onto the driveway. A mechanic got out.

"Mrs Jones?"

"Yes."

"We wanted to bring your car back yesterday lunchtime but no-one was here to sign for it."

"That's alright."

"Can you sign here, and there. Thanks, here's your keys."

Mum and I took a walk around the car. Not only was the graffiti now history but a few scratches and one minor dent had also gone. We stared at one spot so long the mechanic laughed.

"As the insurance company was paying we thought we'd treat you to a little extra."

"Thanks!"

"Don't mention it. By the way, we know who's handywork this was, we have CCTV of him doing the same graffiti tag on our workshop wall."

"Can you speak to my solicitor, Mr Dixon of Dixon Hill, and let him know. He may be able to help you."

"Will do, I'll have a word with the boss, my dad."

We went to jump into the car but first had to pull off the clear plastic seat covers that garages use. Mum had to adjust the driver's seat, then check her make-up in the mirror, before we could set off.

We arrived at the surgery with a few minutes to spare. Mum asked for the practice manager and took her aside for a few minutes, handing her one of the Deed Poll copies. Mum then returned to the waiting area.

"I've told her you need a new medical card. She'll get the local NHS Trust to issue you a new card in your new name. Strange was, she said she was going to ask me for some identification anyway."

We were called in to see Dr Kumar.

"Welcome back ladies, please take a seat. I've cleared my diary for an hour as there's plenty we need to discuss. How would you like your coffees?"

We weren't in his usual room, this was more of a small conference room.

"Just a splash of milk for both of us please."

"Mrs Jones, I have been receiving some strange messages from the hospital. I am at a loss to understand what is going on. Could you help me?"

"Doctor, unfortunately we have had problems this week. Someone cancelled my daughter's Wednesday out-patient appointment by impersonating my deceased husband. The Trust's Deputy Chief Exec has promised to contact us about that but we haven't heard from him yet. My solicitor was also at that meeting so that may explain why they have been speaking to you more than normal. Also, I was told yesterday that Eve has been referred to a Gender Identity specialist."

"I see, that also explains the message asking me to confirm the identity of anyone claiming to be you or your daughter."

Mum nodded.

"Right, let me tell you what I know. Because the hospital were telling me very little until this week, I asked the St Barts & St Thomas' Medical School to do a detailed investigation of Eve's blood test results over the past few weeks, using the samples taken by this surgery. They did not know Eve's name nor gender and were told nothing else about you, other than your age. Their report shows that Eve's hormone levels have stabilised and are largely unchanged over the last three blood tests. The report states that the blood test results are appropriate for a girl entering late puberty."

I thought I should say something, since the conversation was about me.

"Thank you Doctor. So where does that leave me?"

"I was hoping that Mr Bishop or his team would supply that information. I'll speak to him later."

"Thank you."

"Could you both come this way? I think it's time those stitches came out."

I followed the doctor into a treatment room where he had me remove my wig before sitting. A nurse joined us and swabbed the wound whilst the doctor washed and put on gloves. He spent ten minutes removing the stitches before asking the nurse to swab it again. She then put a dressing over the wound.

"That's only in case the stitching holes weep. You can remove the pad this evening."

Dr Kumar checked with mum to see what tablets I still needed and if I required another prescription. He then got a different pad out.

"Eve, your school insisted on a sick certificate from the start of this term, your current one finished yesterday. This is a new one until the end of the month, make sure they get it."

"I will. Thank you."

"Eve, while the nurse is here please can you take your top and bra off."

I was prodded for a minute before being allowed to put my clothes back on. I lost another armful of blood in the process.

"Eve, your breasts are developing as expected for late-onset puberty. Now, as I said, all we have to work out is why."

The nurse gave Dr Kumar a strange look. Obviously she was not fully aware of the facts.

We finally left there at eleven, after a second coffee in the meeting room. Dr Kumar wanted to fill some gaps in his records, apparently, despite the recent flurry of communications, the hospital had not been regularly updating the wonderful new NHS Patient database. We left, having made a follow-up appointment for the following Friday.

Mum drove us into town and parked in a small car-park a short walk from the precinct. We engaged in a little retail therapy on foot, this time mum also spent some money on herself. One of the stores had a dress sale on, we paused outside it.

"Eve, your birthday's approaching."

True, my birthday is the first of November. This year I'd be seventeen and could start driving lessons.

"How would you like to go to the theatre with Claire?"

"So long as we're talking."

"Don't speak like that, of course she'll be there for you."

I bit my tongue rather than start another argument, "okay, What's going to be showing?"

"There's a production of Romeo and Juliet by the English National Opera. I believe that's part of your English syllabus this year."

"It is. I'd love to see the ENO. I'm sure Claire would too."

We finished window shopping outside the emporium and walked into Dress Heaven, the name was very appropriate. I must have tried on at least a dozen dresses, the easy choice was something for the theatre. The difficult choice was the right ball gown for Christmas. As there was a sale on, mum bought me two gowns. She said it was something about not being seen twice in the same dress. I picked up three other formal dresses at the same time, the bill was certainly adding up to a few hundred pounds.

I'd wondered why mum had suggested I change my bra that morning for one of the new 34B ones and that I wear my breast enhancers, but now it was obvious - in more than one way!

"By Christmas you could well be a natural B cup. Your dresses have to still fit you in three months, preferably longer. There's no point buying a ball gown for this Christmas and not being able to get into it!"

Mum took advantage of the sale and picked up a frock for herself to wear at the theatre.

"Eve, I forgot. Your birthday is on a Sunday this year so I'll book tickets for the Saturday performance instead."

"That's Halloween, isn't it?"

"Oh, I hadn't realised," in false alarm, then a giggle.

We took the frocks back to the car and mum phoned the tutor to give an excuse about being stuck somewhere. That gave us the rest of the afternoon. Lunch beckoned to we went to a town centre pub.

This one used to be a furniture store and was huge inside, despite the number of middle aged men inside the air smelt amazingly clean. I doubt we would ever have been in here before the smoking ban. We found a quiet corner, not that it was noisy inside, and concentrated on the menu. Mum went to the bar to order and came back with some bottles of spring water. The food followed by ten minutes and was simple but excellent. We left suitably refreshed.

Back at home we stowed the dresses in the little remaining closet space I had. The evening meal was a simple egg salad, we were still feeling the effects of lunch.

Once we'd eaten I went to my room and tried to phone Claire. Annie answered the phone and passed it straight away to Sharon, her mum.

"Hi Eve."

"Hi Mrs J. What's up with Claire?"

"She's frightened. Your mum asked me to have a chat with her a few days ago and it scared her."

"Was this a chat about our relationship and children?"

"Yes. What did you tell your mum?"

"That I didn't know. I wanted to tell Claire that I won't do anything without talking to her first. I love her as I am, not as Simon."

"Eve, I'll try to speak to her. I tried to yesterday but she might take it better if it comes from you.""

I hung up and walked back downstairs to mum. We were both tired and settled own in front of the telly. Then the doorbell sounded.

Mum found Claire on the doorstep. She ran straight in and wrapped herself around me, sobbing.

"I've been so silly."

"Claire, it's nothing."

"Eve, I love you so much but I was scared."

Mum spoke, "Claire, sorry but it was my fault."

Claire didn't seem to hear mum and continued to sob quietly on my shoulder. We went upstairs and hugged each-other until mum suggested it was time for Claire to go home, it was gone ten o'clock.