The Meeting Place

“Online somewhere was a meeting place known just as ‘The Meeting Place’. Someone who needed to know its web address would find it somehow, but you would not have found it on any search engine. “

“Was it part of the dark web?”

“No, it was just for a select few.”

“Why would someone look for such a place?”

“You would find it if you truly felt that you inhabited the body of the wrong gender.”

“Aren’t there lots of medical services that help people today who believe that?”

“Not like this place and not at that time.”

“So how was it different?

That was what was hoped that I would find out!”

At the time I asked if it was undercover?”

“Yes, very much so. A meeting was taking place in a conference suite at the Hotel Astoria that evening for candidates and the editor of my newspaper had submitted my details to allow me to attend.”

I will tell the story as it happened, as best I can after so many years.

“I expect you to be there. At this stage we do not expect to wire you up with a body cam. We want to know if there is a story here.”

I had taken a little trouble to dress conservatively but well. No bright colours, just a mid blue button-down shirt with gold cuff links and matching cords. Dark brown loafers and a plain dark blue tie completed my ensemble.

At 7pm I presented myself at the conference suite and was ushered in.

“Four of us were there. I and another boy and two girls. The girls appeared a bit masculine with short spiky hair cuts. Both were wearing quality jeans and a girl-cut poplin shirt. The other boy seemed quiet and wore a little makeup round his eyes. I really didn’t notice him too much at this stage but his hair was tied back with a black scrunchie.

All three seemed nice and we chatted until a secretary in a business suit arrived. She gave each of us a questionnaire to complete. I was quite shocked at the detail required about lifestyle choices and sexual experience, and also genetic illnesses that may have been in our families. They wanted to know how each of our parents and grandparents had died if they were no longer with us. There were also details about personal finance and family. It was very comprehensive and somewhat disquieting.”

“I also had a blood test which was sent off for analysis.”

“We had all finished in a little under an hour. Our questionnaires were collected and each of us was separately ushered into a different smaller room where I, at least, faced a severe woman who went through my form in great detail.”

“I had had to make up some of the answers as I was not in the least unhappy about being male. The questions focussed on how much I would like to be female. My background in journalism and the the dramatic arts allowed me to fabricate a persona that seemed to satisfy her as to my credentials.”

“I had seen nothing so far that would justify a major revelation in my newspaper. I was expecting an offer of therapy to assist with the gender dysphoria that I had managed to convince my interviewer had blighted my life.”

It was now getting towards 9pm and I was looking for a way out, but we were were taken back into the larger room and had a session where we talked about ourselves. The other three were effusive in their denunciation of their birth gender and were clearly angling towards gender reassignment. I said as little as I could and what I did say was in the same vein as the other three.

“Shortly before 10pm I was paired with Karen. I don’t know why Karen, but Connie was much smaller physically than me and closer in size to Tim. If it wasn’t for physical size then I cannot think of a reason.”

“We were told that we may go and to report to a clinic in Harley Street three days later when our blood samples had been analysed.”

“I spoke to my editor the following day. I wasn’t clear about what was going on, but we both felt that we were on the brink of a major discovery. I read as much as I could on gender dysphoria in the next two days and presented myself at the clinic at 9am on Monday morning as requested.”

After preliminary checks that needed two forms of identification I was lead into a waiting room and from there to a small consulting room. Karen was also there. I could not imagine why.

She said little other than to confirm her details. She seemed very nervous and looked over to me on several occasions with an expression I could not fathom.

I was reluctant to swallow the capsule I was offered, but when I showed my concern I was shown the label. It was only a mild sedative that was available at any neighbourhood pharmacy on prescription. I took one begrudgingly as did Karen.

When the capsule had started to work, I had a pleasant floating feeling, but was otherwise perfectly aware of what was happening.

With the help of two male nurses we were guided further into the clinic and our clothes removed. Karen had a firm very feminine body but carried more tattoos than I would have chosen. She looked over at my body with its sparse body hair and slight musculature and smiled a rather lopsided smile.

“See you later” she managed to say before each was put onto a separate trolley and wheeled through a pair of rubber doors like those at the opening of an operating theatre. I got worried at this juncture. What was happening? My worries were short-lived as an infusion line was peremptorily put into my arm and an anaesthetic flooded my system.”

Of the next few hours, I can remember little. I remember coming round in a hospital side ward and seeing Karen in the other bed trussed up with multiple dressings.

I drifted off to sleep once more, and it must have been more than two hours later that I awoke again.

Karen was sitting propped up in up in bed still with many bandages covering her chest and abdomen. She was eating a light breakfast of toast and marmalade.

“I am glad you are awake now Brian, it is important that we talk.”

With help from the staff I also managed to sit propped up a bit and like Karen, I was heavily bandaged.

“I got the impression from our interviews that you were not as convinced about transgendering as the rest of us and yet you went through with it. I don’t really understand why.”

I had to think fast. “I think you have got the wrong impression about me. I was just a bit nervous in a medical situation like that. The questionnaire was very comprehensive and revealing.”

I think it had to be, was Karen’s reply. How could we be paired otherwise?

“Tell me about the pairing from your perspective.”

“I have wanted to become a functional man for as long as can remember. I tried being a lesbian, but that didn’t work for me. Hormone injections helped, but I needed to be a man in everything. To be able to father a child, for instance.”

“You, on the other hand it seems were desperate to become a woman with everything that entails.
We are paired, because our blood groups and tissue types are compatible. During the operation all the parts of our bodies that make us physically male and female have been exchanged. As far as sex and parenting is concerned, you are me and I am you.”

As Karen spoke the realisation seeped through my anaesthetic befuddled brain as to what had happened, but as always my journalism training cut in and I replied in a sanguine fashion.

“Does the pairing mean anything more?”

“The fee you paid of £30,000 covered the operation and recuperation, plus also some guidance as to clothing, and in your case as a new woman a guide to make up and mannerisms you need to adopt; but why don’t you know this? It was all explained in the brochures we had. It was also in the contract when you paid for the operation and the support package?”

“I didn’t pay for the operation and I have never seen a contract!”

“You must have. Who would have paid on your behalf?”

The dim realisation hit me. My editor would have regarded it as an allowable expense to get ‘the inside’ story of the feminisation process.

“I think I know the answer, but I need to check with the staff here. I think I have been set up in order to get an exclusive story for the newspapers!”

I felt exhausted physically and emotionally drained.

“What else don’t I know?”

Karen explained very simply.

“You are under contract to bear a child in what was my womb, and is now working inside you. I am contracted to live with you for a year and for you to conceive. After a baby is on the way we may part company and the contract is complete. During that time we will both be under medical supervision 24:7 to make sure nothing goes awry. We would be mother and father to the baby and could stay together to parent the child if that is what we wished.”

“I think we both need to talk to the staff here to get some clarity”, I said, feeling an enormous weariness come over me.”

Sleep took over, and it was the next morning before Brian and Karen were in a fit state to ask for the help they needed.

When I awoke I felt very sore, but alert. The first thing I noticed was that they original brochures and copies of the contract signed on my behalf were by my bedside. During breakfast I skimmed through them.

It was as Karen had said. One of the newspaper lawyers had completed Per pro, a contract on the newspaper’s behalf where they paid all the fees and I became the subject. Apparently there was a clause in my employment contract where the paper could act sort of in loco parentis if there was a need for secrecy or because I was incapable for some reason. It did not specify the extent of that power. I also noted that the newspaper would continue to pay my salary for five years from the date of the procedure, whether I could work or not.

I didn’t feel strong enough to challenge what seemed to be a watertight legal case in my postoperative bed, so I talked to Karen to get to know her better. After all, we were expected to parent a child together.

She was a couple of years younger than me and strangely was also a journalist. She reported for a Farmers and Growers trade magazine by visiting numerous agricultural shows each year. Her job was protected for six months while she recovered from her surgery. Her employers knew what was happening, as did her parents. She had read agriculture at University followed by a Masters in journalism. No intellectual slouch here then.

Her figure had been masked by her clothing when we met previously and I had only the slightest of memories of her undressed after I had had the sedative. She was a similar height to me and whilst she didn’t have a gorgeous figure she was certainly someone who would catch ones eye in a bikini.

“Do we help each other to become the person in our new rôles? … was my first question.

“Yes, that is why we live together for the first year. I have never been a great one for fussy women’s clothing or lots of makeup, but I know how to put it on and have worn high heels and long dresses as much as many other working women.”

“What do you think will happen to your body when the hormones from my testicles start to have an effect?”

“I am told that my voice will drop in pitch and my muscle mass will increase as long as I exercise well. I will also get coarser hair and get hair in a male distribution. Exactly the opposite from you.”

“I understand that they will get us up for a short time tomorrow. It will be no good for either of us to lay abed longer than we need to.”

And so it was. Dressed in medical gowns and attached to urine catheter bags and abdominal drain bags we sat together in a pair of raised chairs in our suite. It seemed deliberate that we could see a substantial part of each other’s body in the process. If one was to enter into what amounted to being an arranged marriage, then why make a fuss over nudity?

It was the first time that I really noticed the weight of Karen’s breasts now that I was upright. They were covered by extensive dressings that had made me sort of forget how they would look when I was up and about.

“How big a bust have I inherited?”

“I understand that you have a 38” chest, so the size of my chest doesn’t matter. As it happens I have a 34” chest. I had a C, almost D cup size, so I expect you will probably be something like 38D. That is quite large, but it will match your bone structure and should look fine on you.”

“What about clothes and other things each of us will need before we can leave this room?”

“That is all part of the contract. Don’t you read anything? In a few days we will be visited by a stylist who will take our new measurements and we will order through a catalogue. There is a £2000 limit for each of us, but that will cover the basics. Jumpers, t-shirts and the like are unisex, so there may be things at your flat that you can use as well.”

“My knowledge of surgery is fairly vague, but I believe that nerves regrow rather slowly. Isn’t intimacy where both parties have no sensation a potential disaster?”

“Again, I have asked these questions at the early selection process. We had a new ‘glue’ for the want of a better word applied to our nerves. Whilst it may take some weeks, even several months to restore all our sensations, it will happen. We will have an examination each week to see where sensation has returned. At the moment your vagina is packed with gauze to stop it going into prolapse. I say your vagina, because it gets too complicated to say What used to be my vagina, all the time.”

“Do you have any idea why we were such a good tissue match.”

“No one knows. It was suggested that we might be distantly related, but no one has come up with a reasonable answer to that one.”

“How did your parents take to your plans? They are worried, but less so now that the surgery has been completed with complete success.”

“So you have got in touch with them already?”

“Yes. That is what mobiles are for!”

“What about your relations?”

“I only have a mother. My father died several years ago. He would not have taken well to having a new daughter thrust into the family. I have two sisters. One lives in New Zealand with her husband and two children. I don’t need to consider them just at present. It is my younger sister I have to be concerned about, we are close. She may be able to help me pass myself off as a woman. She is also a lawyer, but I have come to the conclusion that I would much prefer to be a functional woman than someone without any sexual organs at all.”

“I am very glad about that. I have a natural concern that my womb and eggs are not wasted. There is also the penalty clause in the contract where you have to repay all the fees if you don’t complete the contract.”

“Yes, I did read that. What happens if there is a medical problem and we cannot conceive?”

“I think you need to get your sister in here to explain all the terms and conditions of the contract. I had a lawyer go through it point by point with me before I even started the application. Get your sister to visit here and get her advice!”

…and so it was. I had an interesting phone call with Denise and she arrived at Karen’s and my room that evening.

Between Karen and I, we explained all the catalogue of events that had befallen me since we had last spoken.

Denise spent half an hour reading through the various documents before saying.
“You are trussed up like the proverbial Christmas turkey. You have no room for legal manoeuvre here at all. Like it or lump it, you are now Briony rather than Brian, and will be a mother in the next couple of years.”

“I suggest that you write a diary for your newspaper of what has happened to you and resume your career as soon as you can, in your new rôle. I will come an visit a couple of times a week if you want and will sit in with you when the stylist visits. I suggest that we leave Mum until you can visit her at home.”

“Did you call me Briony? I rather like that. Briony Cooke sounds nice. What about my middle name. I was Brian James Cook.”

“How about Briony Jane Cooke. Sound good to me.”

“Apparently the clinic sorts out the Gender Reassignment Certificate, but I am sure that Briony Jane Cooke is a good choice. I like it already, and Jane is mum’s name.”

“How about you Karen. Have you given any thought to a new name. I don’t even remember your surname although I did see it on some of your documents.”

“I am Karen Louise Gardiner at present. My mother suggested Lawrence Michael Gardiner. The Michael was after my grandfather and my mother’s maiden name was Lawrence.”

“I am jumping the gun a bit, but I also quite like Briony Jane Gardiner.”

“Yes you are jumping the gun more than a bit.” said both Karen and Denise simultaneously” .. with mock horror.

Denise continued “Here you are sitting in a hospital bed with tubes coming out all over you and you seem to be talking about marriage and having babies with Lawrence. I think you are enjoying this far too much! Perhaps your Editor had more insight that you would have thought. She is a woman, I think, but I am not sure that has much to do with it. I have known you all my life and I would never have thought of you adopting such a radical change in your life so easily.”

“I have to go now. I understand that some of both dressings are being changed tomorrow. You may get a better idea of whether you like your new selves then. I hope so.” … and off she went.”

“I like her”, Lawrence said. “If the rest of your family are anything like her then I think we will get on well … for as long as we are together, that is.”

Two days passed with Briony and Lawrence getting to know each other better. Phones were used to show family photographs.

A large bouquet arrived on day five with best wishes from the team at the newspaper.

“Looks like the cat is out of the bag there! I suppose there is a first time for everything. Getting flowers is a novelty, but one I think I could come to enjoy.”

Briony sent a few pages of copy and it wasn’t long before Diana, the editor, phoned, and asked if she could attend with a photographer.

“You will need to get permission from the clinic to take photographs. We are still experimental subjects although both of us feel fine.”

Briony put off the visit until after she had had the visit from the stylist. She came prepared with a couple of loose tracksuits that would cover the still extensive bandaging and tubes.

Sheila, the stylist seemed to concentrate on Briony initially. Bit more fun to dress a woman from scratch perhaps. Men’s clothes didn’t have quite the same cachet as women’s and perhaps there was a larger commission in women’s fashion?

“You may want to wear a waist cincher for a time after your wounds are well healed, or do appropriate exercises to strengthen your waist muscles and pelvic floor. You will also need special panties for transgendered men because your crotch gap is much smaller than for the average woman who will have wider hips. I suggest you try some women’s boy briefs and see how you get on. The surgeon has done an excellent job putting a vagina and vulva in what was a man’s groin area. I am full of admiration, but I wonder if you might consider some liposuction. You have some fat round your waist and you might consider having the fat cells transplanted into your buttocks. They do look a bit like a man’s backside at the present. I think you need to avoid trousers for the time being and a swimming costume with a peplum would also be a good idea; at least until your body has had a chance to redistribute your fat.

“Bloody cheek!” … I said to myself. Sheila was, regrettably the holder of the purse strings and when she got down to choosing the clothes I rather liked her choices. Her stentorian tones grated with me until I managed to put her hectoring tone into the background.

Denise arrived after a few minutes. She and Sheila talked through half a catalogue, largely ignoring Briony. Lawrence was in fits of laughter when Briony tried to get a word in edgeways for the fourth or fifth time.

“Don’t worry, Briony, we will have the basics sorted out for you in a few minutes. I hope you trust us because this will make a new woman of you!”

The £2000 disappeared without any difficulty at all and I became enthused over their choices for me. A mixture of russets, pinks, and creams on one hand and shades of blues and pale lavender on the other.

“We will need to go shopping together to get you fitted out with accessories, but just one decent handbag will do for the present. One pair of trainers will also do until we get out to the shops. I don’t know how we will kit you out with women’s shoes in a size 9, but Sheila assures me that they are available if you know where to look.”

Since the paper was paying the bill, permission was granted and Diana turned up with Sophie one of the staff photographers.

“I never thought you would go through with this” was Diana’s first comment. You both look fantastic. How does it feel?

“I am really enjoying this so far. There is a long way to go, but the idea of being a woman is far from being bad. Even the idea of pregnancy and motherhood is not that awful, although I have already been told that my hips are too narrow to give birth naturally. It will be a compulsory
C-section for me.”

“Diana, please meet my partner, now renamed as Lawrence.”

“You also look really good Lawrence but if it is ok with you, I will talk with you later. You haven’t any legal involvement with the Paper. but if you choose to give your side of the story then I can promise you a very substantial fee.”

“If you prepare a contract I will ask Briony’s sister to look it over and advise me. Until then I will stay in the background.”

Diana looked over. “You have been quick with a new name. How does Briony Cooke - Staff Reporter seem as a title?”

“I like it! That is a promotion I think, so thank you for that.”

Sophie took a selection of photographs, but there wasn’t a lot to record at this stage.The big reveal would take place with before and after shots and that would need a visit to a hair stylist and the works as regards makeup. Sophie had another visit to make, and after offering her best wishes for our speedy recoveries, she went saying that she would do a full page spread of me in my new persona when everything was ready. Her mind was already writing as to what to dress me in for the reels of film that would be used up - or the digital equivalent.

Diana went into reporter mode and asked a whole series of questions that hadn’t been included in Briony’s notes she had sent in, but even those questions were exhausted within half an hour.

“I shall come in once a week to interview you both. Nothing will be said about you, Lawrence until a contract has been agreed, so please don’t concern yourself about an early reveal. I don’t plan to start a series of articles until you have had a month or five weeks to recover. Seeing you both in very roomy tracksuits doesn’t give a very good impression of the final result … but if it is any consolation Briony I think you would pass for a girl in most situations now and dressed as a woman would pass muster in any situation.”

Get the hair sorted out - you have enough of your own to get a shortish girl’s cut. Get some highlights done. Your present style is, understandably too masculine.”

Briony’s mother had got wind that something was happening. Briony had talked in general terms over the phone with her, but she was not satisfied even though Briony answered as Brian throughout the conversation. Matters were taken into hand when Briony’s mum rang the clinic and asked for Brian Cooke. The switchboard operator thought she had misheard and corrected her by saying that she would put her through to Briony Cooke, and of course Brian/Briony answered.

After a rather awkward conversation with her mother, Briony suggested that she rang Denise and then come to visit with Denise the following day..

It seemed that Denise and her mother talked for a couple of hours on the phone that evening and both were well prepared emotionally when the door opened. Not prepared enough it seems as Jane burst into tears as soon as she saw her now, daughter.

Tears faded into joy when Jane took a close look at Briony and saw how happy she was in her new rôle. Hugs and kisses followed for both Briony and Lawrence but hugs were painful so they were perhaps less intense than intended.

“I cannot understand how such a ghastly mistake can lead to you being so happy, and the commitment to providing me with another grandchild will be a blessing. I never see your sister’s children in New Zealand except by Zoom! and that is not the same for an old granny who struggles with the computer.”

“I will just accept it as a blessing in disguise. I now have three daughters.

“Lawrence, you are now also part of the family and whilst it is not a normal way of starting a long term relationship, I know that arranged marriages can be immensely successful. Marriage or just a long term relationship doesn’t matter. If there is a child then you will always be part of the family … and you may be interested to know that you are a third cousin once removed to Briony. I did manage to research that with some cousins. Far enough removed for healthy babies, but close enough for the tissue typing to be successful I understand.”

After the visitors had gone, Briony asked when she could meet Lawrence’s family. They live in North Wales but are coming down by train over the weekend and you will meet them then.

The days passed quite quickly. Briony’s reports were sent out and the various bandages and stitches were gradually removed. Neither had any sensation in their new organs as yet but Briony felt that the tissues around her breasts were a little sensitive, but it might have been her wishful thinking.

Lawrence’s first erection was cause for a celebration. Briony viewed it with mixed feelings as might be expected, but was delighted for her partner.

Amongst the last features of their surgery was the removal of the indwelling catheters and both were delighted to be able to wee in the normal fashion for their adopted gender.

It took three weeks before the surgical gowns were finally abandoned, and after six weeks both had a wardrobe of suitable clothing. Lawrence looked dapper in shirt and slacks for a 36” chest and a 32’ waist and Briony ended up with a 38D bust and a 34“ waist. Strangely their inside leg measurements were 31’ for them both.

Briony needed electrolysis hair removal on her face to feminise it, and Lawrence was overjoyed when he needed to start to shave.

When they were sitting together in their clinic suite a thought occurred to Briony. “I wonder what will happen to my golf handicap. I play off ten and have three friends who go on holiday with me to play. We have been to Spain, Portugal and Turkey so far. They are good friends, but I wonder if they can accept me in my new rôle?”

“I have never played golf, but I cannot imagine that the handicap system transfers directly from male to female. As regards the holidays, I would guess that it involves shared rooms and a fair bit of hard drinking on the 19th green as I think it is called.”

“Very true. Much as I enjoy their company I have no wish to have an orgy with them. We normally have a shared room to save on the cost. That isn’t going to work any longer. I think I need to contact them to explore what we can continue our friendship.”

“I suspect that any wives and girlfriends would be concerned if you tried to carry on as previously. Drink and sunshine can lower resolve, and regrettable as it is, it is usually down to the woman to fend off a friend who gets drunk and becomes a letcher. Even if they are grovelingly apologetic in the morning the deed is done and a friendship can disappear in that instant. I am convinced that you will have to renegotiate those friendships.”

“That is the first thing I have thought of that makes me sad.”

“Get your friends together and have a small reveal of the new you. Discuss it with them. Reach a solution if one is possible.”

That reminds me. We usually meet once a month at a pub in Chelsea for a get together. It is something of a ritual. I cried off the last one saying I wasn’t well. I shall get dressed up and go on Monday and see what happens.”

“Will you let them know that something unusual is going to happen?”

“I will just text to say that I am able to come, and to look out for me!”

“They will never recognise you.”

“That will be part of the fun. It will be a test of their friendship. If they are shocked and reject me as some sort of abomination, then that will be an answer to my question.

“ I will also sort out my membership at the golf club. There are waiting lists to get in, and they are different lengths for men and women. The sooner I broach that the better.”

Monday came and with Lawrence’s help I dressed conservatively, but well. Understated makeup and carefully done hair.

This wasn’t the time to get groped on the Tube so I resorted to a Black Cab that delivered me to the pub door.

“Have a nice evening m’duck was the taxi driver’s parting shot.”

Nerves nearly got the better of me as I walked into the bar and looked over to where we normally sat. Stephen and Giles were already there, waiting for Don and Brian. No time like the present.

“Hello, both. This the new me!”

If jaws could hit the floor then theirs did.

“Brian? is that you? Stephen managed to say.

“Yes all me. No false bits … fully functional female but game for an evening with my oldest friends.”

“But how? You look gorgeous. If it wasn’t for your voice I would never have known.”

“I will explain when Don gets here and I am now Briony, by the way”

“Looking like you do, the lest I can do is buy you a drink. Is your normal pint of Guinness or something more ladylike.”

“ I cannot cope with too much volume dressed like this, so I think it will have to be a glass of something sparkling. I think they do mini bottles of Prosecco here. That would be a good choice if you don’t mind.”

“A mini bottle of Prosecco coming up for the lady.”

It took an hour to explain what had happened to me and why it hadn’t been possible to give them any warning before the surgery.

The taxi I had ordered appeared promptly at 9pm.

“Taxi for Briony Cooke” was shouted from the bar.

“That is for me” as I hastened to the exit.

“Please consider how this change, however unintended, may affect our friendship. I do hope that it can continue in some form, but will accept whatever you decide.”

Stephen escorted me to the cab and gave me a hug and a chaste peck on the cheek. “You look gorgeous. I know Brian is in there somewhere, but I am astounded with the change in you. I would love to keep in touch even if the golf thing fizzles out.

“If the four of us are unable to meet for whatever reason then I would be delighted to play one-on-one.”

“I am well aware of your talents with the ladies, Stephen. I do not want to a be a notch on your tally stick of conquests. If it is a matter of playing mixed pairs with our combined handicaps, then I would be delighted, but I know you too well to want to get into the sack with you.”

“That’s a pity, but perhaps it is for the best.”

I am going out to the club tomorrow to get my membership sorted out, and see what can be done with my handicap. I hope I don’t have to prequalify from 36, or whatever the ladies starting point is. I am sure there must be a way of transferring.

I knew they would continue to drink until closing time at 11.15pm and hoped that I would be the topic of conversation. I knew that Don would be the problem. He had a very demanding wife who only let him out on a short leash. Going on holiday without her, with another woman would not happen.

The following day I met with the membership secretary of the golf club and the women’s captain. After pleasantries over coffee and a brief explanation, we got down to business,

“Whilst you are clearly a functional woman”, the secretary began, “ you still have the physique of the man you were. Your height, shoulder size, and reach are the same as they were before. As far as playing golf is concerned I really don’t think much has changed. We are happy to change your membership to female, but all our competitions are Open, meaning that women and men can play. Normally women don’t join in open competitions but here is no reason for you not to.”

“I think we need some extra data to allow you to play from the forward tees. Equally there is no evidence that your handicap should be any different until your playing demonstrates that this needs to be so. We will place a provision on you for this next year, in that you cannot play in women only competitions or as the female competitor in mixed pairs events. As you appreciate, you are unique and are likely to remain so; so there are no extant rules that can be applied. “

“We hope you will accept our decision, but there is a rule that allows you to appeal if you disagree.”

“I do appreciate that my circumstances are unique and I am minded to accept them as I do enjoy playing here and have many friends. I will expect to have a locker in the female locker room and use female facilities.”

“Yes, of course, that goes with the change of membership details.

I spoke to Lawrence when I got home. “I know that most relationships will change. My mother and sister are probably the exception. My employer will just make capital out of the situation before I step back into relative obscurity as one of the minions that make the newspaper work. I don’t want to remain newsworthy, or notorious for long. After that I hope things like golf can resume without any publicity and particularly any notoriety.”

“Do you know what is planned for the great reveal next week?”

“I think it is a pity you have chosen to remain in the background, but I respect your choice.”

“On Wednesday I get the works as far as manicure, pedicure, and hair styling. Then on Thursday the makeup team get to work before a drive to the venue. Lots of lights and several staff photographers. Selected journalists have been invited with an embargo in place for 24 hours. All will be given a press release outlining my transition. There will be a life sized image of me before the surgery and then me in the flesh as it were, but not too much flesh of course! It is supposed to be a scoop for the paper. After that there are interviews with several TV channels, and I understand that the interviews are to be syndicated. My feed from Social Media is going to be filtered to get rid of all the vile language I expect to receive from trolls and other social misfits who will think the interviews make me public property.”

“We must visit each other’s homes to start sorting out our belongings once the dust has settled.”

There was no problem in leaving the clinic during the day, but the staff wanted them to sleep there overnight and check them each morning.

Their first visit together was to Briony’s flat in Pimlico. No one had linked the occupant of the flat with the ephemeral personality seen on the News. There was a mountain of post in the hallway and they spent a morning bundling up her male clothing ready for a charity shop to take away. Nothing fit Lawrence so there was nothing that needed to be passed on to him. It was all too big.

Most of the post was junk mail. This was binned and the rest was plonked into a carrier bag and put ready to sort out back at the clinic.

When they left it the apartment was clean but with the windows closed for so long it seemed musty. As winter was approaching Briony left a small amount of heat on to prevent damage to the soft furnishings.

Lawrence’s room was in a shared household in North London, near Finsbury Park underground station. They walked hand in hand from the Tube to the house, content with each other’s company. How could two people who didn’t know each other pair off so successfully and share such extensive surgery?

Most of Lawrences’s clothes were too small for Briony but one or two bras had enough adjustment to fit, and the two spent a couple of hours trying on Lawrence’s wardrobe. He was sad to see some of his favourite garments go into a charity bag, but managed to keep all his favourite T-shirts and some elasticated sports shorts that were not too feminine.

They met Lawrence’s housemates when they came home from work and had a shared meal before returning to the clinic. One potential problem was that the HMO (House of Multiple Occupation) was designated as an all female household. The question arose as to whether Lawrence could remain.

Briony decided on the spur of the moment that she would like to share her apartment with Lawrence and it happened. Lawrence moved in and the room in the HMO was vacated for another girl to occupy.

And so, Lawrence and Briony came to share a bed and what intimacies that were possible.

As predicted, their nerves grew back slowly but surely and after some months they tried tentatively to make love. One gentle love making session became a regular event. Unlike most women, Briony was delighted to have her first period, but such events became ordinary and their two demanding jobs took them away from home too much of the time.

Lawrence came home shortly before Christmas with news. It was nearly a year since they had first met.

“I have been given a new, larger, area to report on. It is the whole of Northumbria and it will mean a move to Newcastle. I know this may be a shock to you, but you cannot be unaware that we have been slowly drifting apart largely through work pressures. I have also had some bad news. My sperm counts have been dropping over the last three tests. I am heading for complete sterility in the new year and there seems to be nothing that can be done about it. It seems to be a problem where the DNA in my normal cells with their XX genetic component are reimposing some control over the XY male genetics of my transplanted testicles … something to do with my pituitary gland. The process of reduction division is impeded. You received my ovaries with my complete compliment of egg cells from birth. They only have to mature once a month and your XY DNA in most cells does not seem to be interfering with that as far as we know.

“I have also found out through a Freedom of Information Request that our program has been terminated because they couldn’t find any more qualified candidates. Of the eight couples operated on, six had significant rejection problems and ended up with mutilated sex organs. One pair accepted the grafts but proved to be emotionally incompatible. I now have almost no sperm and there isn’t enough in store to provide even one course of IVF.”

“I am exercising the clause in my contract to leave after a year.”

“If you are to complete your contract and conceive so you do not have to repay the £30,000 to your employer, then you need to find a new man quickly. You will make a beautiful mother and apart from my own feelings in the matter, I think I would be cruel to stay here and thwart what have clearly become your needs and desires.”

And so it was. In a week Lawrence moved to Newcastle, and some months later Briony heard that he had moved in with a land agent who already had two teenage children, and had no interest in having any more. Lawrence’s impotence was a blessing to her.

Whilst Lawrence’s various revelations came as no real surprise on reflection, the event distressed Briony a great deal. After several tearful phone calls, Briony went for a few days visit to her sister in Kent. It meant sofa surfing it the one bedroom apartment Denise shared with her longtime boy friend Mike, but it was good for the two sisters to get some quality time together.

Mike and Denise could hear Briony sobbing herself to sleep in the lounge as she tried to get comfortable under a duvet on the sofa whilst quietening her troubled mind. They lay naked, as always, in their King Sized bed discussing in a whisper what they could to do to help. After some time it was agreed and Denise went out to her sister. The moonlight shone onto her naked body as she knelt down beside the sofa. The sisters went into each other’s arms. When Briony’s sobs had abated the sisters moved slowly into the bedroom where Mike waited. Denise lifted the sleeves of nightie Briony wore and it fell to the ground in a heap round her ankles.

Over the next hour Briony was touched and kissed everywhere. She reciprocated as far as she could, but Mike and Denise were expert lovers and Briony was loved in every crevice. It became almost incidental when Mike penetrated Briony with his tumescence, and in short order her cervix was bathed in his semen. The three lovers sank into sleep and the deed was done. Briony had the pregnancy that she desperately wanted and Mike and Denise had a lover for them to share for years to come.

Postscript

Mike attended Briony’s C-section as father of the child and her room was garlanded with flowers for the three days of her stay at the clinic. Denise and Jane were constant visitors, and Lawrence promised to be godfather, although he never turned up for the Christening. Diana took an almost proprietorial interest in baby Giles, and insisted in setting him up a trust fund for his education. The family in New Zealand found the whole thing too complicated to absorb fully over Zoom! Even with a Zoom! call there often needs to be something that can be touched.

When baby Giles was three months old the New Zealand family made a visit to see the new nephew and saw Briony’s joy at motherhood … and finally understood.