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Emma
by Tanya Allan Synopsis Brigette Drysdale, the attractive yet bitter French born mother, who seeks to separate her son from the trust by fair means or foul. Monksreach Hall, the archaic institution that encourages bullying as a means of discipline, and in which Russell is totally miserable. The surprise. The morning he wakes up to find he is a girl. Suddenly, life in an all boys’ school is even less attractive, so using the name Emma, the girl runs away, into a whole new world. More than capable, she thwarts her mother and her mother’s vicious boyfriend, the police, and manages to show the world that some girls are the next best thing to angels. |
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The Legal Stuff: Emma ©2004 Tanya Allan
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
Part 5
The service the next day went really well, the choir was now up to eight, and the volume was noticeably increased. I was interested to see that Mike’s pep talk on the last evening had managed to persuade one or two stray sheep back to the fold.
We had a very relaxed day, feeling much refreshed when we were dropped off at the college.
I immediately called a certain mobile phone.
“Hi?”
“Hi Steve.”
“Emma?”
“Who else?”
“Wow, hang on, I’m in the car, just let me pull over,” he said.
There was a bit of background noise, and then he was back.
“Okay, I’m safer now. Thanks for calling back, I wasn’t sure that you would.”
“Oh yeah? How many girls do you kiss and they never call?” I asked.
There was silence.
“Steve?”
“I’m here. Thanks for calling. What’s your number there?”
I gave him the number.
“Look, let me get home, and then I’ll ring you. Ten minutes, tops,” he said.
“Okay.”
Eight minutes later, the phone rang.
“Hi, Emma?”
“I’m sorry Miss Pearson is cleaning the latrines,” I said in an old woman voice.
“Sorry?” said a baffled Steve.
“It’s me, you daft brush,” I said.
“I missed you,” he said.
“Invest in some better sights,” I said.
He laughed. “Are you ever serious?”
“Oh yes. But get real, we’ve only met once, and that was yesterday.”
“I can’t explain it, I have thought about you all day, and most of last night too, if I’m honest,” he said. I felt rather humble to have affected him that hard. I couldn’t think of anything funny to say.
“Emma. Are you still there?”
“I’m here, I couldn’t think of anything funny to say.”
“Thanks for last night,” he said.
“You’re welcome. You’re a great kisser, by the way.”
“How many have you had?”
“Including you?”
“Including me.”
“One.”
“Never!”
“One. I don’t lie, at least not about things like that,” I said.
“How come?”
“It’s a long story, sufficient to say, I’ve had a different life, and I could be described as a late developer. If we get to know each other really well, then I may tell you, but just accept that for now,” I told him.
“If it’s any consolation, you are a pretty good kisser yourself.”
“It’s all in the hormones.”
“What?”
“As soon as you kissed me, I had a rush of who knows what, if I hadn’t stopped, who knows where we would have ended up.”
“So you felt something too?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll see you on Friday, what sort of movies do you like?” he asked.
“I don’t mind.”
“How about food, what is your favourite?”
“You’ve seen me eat, and you have to ask that?” I asked.
He laughed, “How are you with chopsticks?”
“Awesome. But I have had no fatalities, yet,” I said.
“Why are you so different?”
“Just to be difficult. Do you know where the college is?” I asked him.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll be free from about five o’clock onwards.”
“Okay, I’ll be there at about five. Can you ring me, anytime?” he asked.
“Why? So we can have another moronic conversation?”
“Because I love to hear your voice,” he said.
“You are a soppy sod. Okay, I’ll ring, but don’t expect long conversations, I’m really skint.”
“I’ll ring you straight back, you just ring my mobile for three rings, and I’ll know it’s you,” he said.
“Okay, Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone, attempting to analyse what I felt. He made me want to smile, I enjoyed hearing his voice, and I really enjoyed teasing him. I thought that he felt rather more for me that I did for him. I would have to watch it, as I felt he was getting too serious too quickly. But, deep down, I knew that he meant something to me too.
The week went quickly, and I worked hard. I was really enjoying the course, as there wasn’t a class I disliked. I found all the staff were dedicated, talented and enjoyed their subjects. I got on really well with the other students, and Gwen was right, it was a family atmosphere. Steve rang me every evening at about eight.
I really enjoyed drama, and in our little sessions, I really went at it. I found it easy to pretend to be someone, or something I wasn’t. Probably because I had spent much of my life doing just that. One of the boys in our year was a rather shy boy called Mark Williams. He was quite a gangly guy, although he was only 5’7”, he was very slim. However, although he was an amazing dancer, he was too introverted to get into drama. I liked partnering him in the dance class, as he had a natural flowing rhythm.
I was curled up in a large leather armchair in the library on the Thursday evening, I used to spend lots of time in the library, as I wasn’t a great TV fan, and it was the one place I could get real peace and quiet. I heard the door open, but I was so engrossed in my book, I didn’t even look up.
“Emma, I’m sorry to bother you.”
I looked up, and Mark was standing looking really forlorn in front of me.
“Hi, Mark. What’s the problem?” I asked.
He looked as if he was about to burst into tears.
I put my book down and pointed to the chair next to mine.
“Hey, Markie, sit down. What’s up?”
Mark sat on the arm of the chair, but seemed to be trying hard to control himself.
I leaned over and put my hand on his arm.
“Hey, this is me, you don’t have to hold back, just let it out,” I said.
The tears started, just sort of falling from his eyes, and he struggled to stop them.
I stood up, putting my arm around him, and then the sobs started. He put his face against my shoulder and sobbed his heart out. I just held him and let him cry. He cried for ages, many minutes, but gradually the sobs slowed down, as he ran out of steam.
He lifted his head from my shoulder. His eyes were all red and blotchy.
I saw my jumper was rather damp.
“Now look what you’ve done,” I said, and he gave a weak smile.
“Okay, Mark, tell aunty Emma all about it.”
“I can’t,” he said.
“Course you can. If you bottle it up, you’ll go pop,” I said.
“You don’t understand, I can’t tell this to anyone.” He almost started to cry again.
I began to get an inkling of what he felt. I don’t know why, but I actually felt I could recognise something in him, that I, as Russell, had. Now, I knew that he wasn’t openly gay, we had two gay guys who made no secret of their status, and were good fun, if a little over the top at times. Mark would tend to seek out one of us girls to spend time with, but most of the time, he was rather a loner. He was seventeen, but I knew very little about him.
“Okay, Mark. It’s time to face your demons, and I want you to trust me. I promise that whatever you tell me, will remain strictly between you and me. But first I want to ask you some questions, and these will show you why you can trust me, Okay?”
He nodded.
“Okay, you are a well spoken lad, with a good education. You went to public school, right?”
He nodded.
“You loathed every minute, and you were picked on, for being quiet, not into rugger and the macho side of life. Right?”
He nodded.
“Your parents love you dearly, but you feel you let them down. You’ve probably got an elder brother, who was always really good at everything, right?”
“How did you….?” He started to say. I held my hand up.
“Just bear with me, okay? Your dad wanted you to stick in there, but something happened and you left. I don’t want to know, but your mum probably insisted that you left, and she found this place. Am I any where near the mark?”
“Spot on. How did you know?” he asked.
“Let’s just say I once knew someone very well who suffered life in a similar way,” I said.
“I nearly took my own life. I tried to hang myself with my dressing gown cord,” he said. Then he looked at me. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
“Thank you, Mark, for trusting me. I’ll ask you one question, and if I’m way off, then tell me, as I don’t want to offend you. Okay?” I held his hand.
“Okay.”
“I believe that it has a lot to do with who you are. Or rather, who you wish you were. Now I believe that you aren’t gay, but it relates to your sexuality. Mark, do you feel that you should have been born as a girl?” I asked.
He looked at me for several seconds, but then the tears welled up once more. He looked at his free hand, nibbling his nails. Then he looked at me again.
“Does it show?” he asked.
“No, not to most people, but then, I’m not most people. How long have you felt like this?” I asked him.
“As long as I can remember, certainly since I was about six or so. I thought it would go as I got older. At times, it seems less intense, but not a day goes by without me thinking about it. I’ve never been able to tell anyone before,” he said, letting out a big sigh.
“You’re not alone, Mark, lots of people suffer the same thing, and some can control it and even suppress it. For others, they have to do something about it. For a few, the only answer seems to be to take their own lives, while others turn to drink or drugs. But if dealt with properly, one can achieve a normal life, free of the old worries,” I said.
“I used to think that I was gay, but it had nothing to do with being attracted to other guys. Then I thought that I was a transvestite, as I would get a thrill from dressing up as a girl, but the guilt crippled me. It wasn’t the clothes; it was looking like, and being a girl. I see you, and some of the other girls, and I just want to be like you. I hate myself, but I don’t know if I can take it much longer,” he said.
“Does your mother suspect?” I asked.
“Probably. I think she knows I dressed up in her clothes.”
“And your dad?”
He shook his head.
“What would their reaction be?” I asked.
“I don’t know. My mum would probably be pretty good, but I don’t know about dad.”
“Mark, imagine for a moment that you are a father of two sons. The elder is a fine chap, a real go-getter. The younger is sensitive, intelligent, but rather a wimp compared to his brother. They were brought up the same way, with equal love, and in the same schools. But the younger boy is so unhappy, that he tries to kill himself. Bang, no reason, just goes ahead and tries. Luckily, he doesn’t succeed. How would you feel?”
“I would feel responsible. I would want to know why, what we had done to make him that unhappy. I would want to help him.”
“Don’t you think that your dad would feel just that?” I asked.
He looked at me; his great big eyes started brimming with tears again. He nodded. I squeezed his hand.
I said nothing; it was not my place to tell him how to take the next step. I had had a miraculous intervention, and although I could recommend that prayer could work for Mark, it had to come from him. I had no guarantees.
“It’s easy for you; you’ve always been a girl.”
I just looked at him.
“Don’t assume anything, life is never easy,” I said. I so nearly told him the truth, but I knew the dangers were just too great. Besides there was no point building hope only to dash it.
“I’m sorry. Do you think I have to tell my parents?”
“I don’t think anything, as you’ve got to weigh up your circumstances. If you don’t tell them, what will happen?” I asked.
“My life will go on, and I’ll just get more unhappy. I suppose.”
“Yeah, and there are lots of dressing gown cords,” I said. He nodded.
“And if you tell them, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“I don’t know. I could get thrown out, I suppose.”
“In which case, what would stop you taking the necessary steps to make whatever transition you wanted to?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me honestly, is it likely they would chuck you out?”
He shook his head. “They would be embarrassed.”
“And having a son who attempts suicide is not embarrassing then?” I asked.
“I never thought of it like that,” he admitted, with a sad little smile.
“So you’re telling me that the only thing that stands in the way of you seeking some sort of change, is your parents?” I asked.
He nodded.
“If they throw you out, you could change, right?”
“Yes.”
“I they love and support you, you could still change, and keep them in your life. Right?” I asked.
“I suppose. They could try to get me treated.”
“Okay, so they take you to a shrink. What two avenues are left?”
“The shrink cures me, and I no longer feel like this. Or I feel the same.”
“If you are cured, then there is no longer any problem. But if you feel the same?”
“I go for a change,” he said.
“So what do you think you should do?”
“Tell my parents?”
“Don’t ask me. Tell me what you should do,” I asked.
“I should tell my parents.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to tell my parents, Emma,” he said, determination seeping into his voice.
“When Mark, when will you tell them?” I asked.
He looked at me, shrugging as the courage seeped away.
I squeezed his hand.
“How long do you want to be miserable for?” I asked.
“I’d like it to stop now.”
“Then when are you going to tell them?”
“You’re not suggesting I tell them now?” he asked me, horrified.
“I’m not suggesting anything. I just want to know how long you want this all to drag on?” I said.
“But if I call them and tell them now, ……” He trailed off. “What will I say?” he asked.
“Tell the truth. Tell them why you are unhappy; tell them why you tried to kill yourself, and that it was not their fault at all. Tell them you love them and that you want their help and support through whatever has to come. Just be you,” I said, as my heart went out to him.
“And Mark, pray. Pray like you have never prayed before. You would be amazed how prayer can help,” I said.
“Emma?”
“What?”
“Can you be with me when I call them?” he asked.
“Sure. Now?”
“Now,” he said. He stood up.
“Thanks Emma. I mean it, thanks.”
“You haven’t done anything yet, let’s wait and see what happens,” I said.
We left the library and went to the pay phone. He lifted the receiver. He stopped and hesitated.
“Do you want me to push the buttons?” I asked.
He shook his head. He put the money in and pushed the buttons. He looked at me, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He was shaking. I held his hand.
“Hello Mum,” he said. “It’s me, Mark.”
“No, I’m fine.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Well actually, I’m not exactly fine. I need to tell you some things, and this is very hard for me.”
“No, just listen. I really need you to just listen. I don’t know how to say these things, but here goes anyway.
“I need to tell you first that I love you both very much, and through everything that has happened, that has never changed. But you need to know that from the outset. I tried to kill myself because I was unhappy. I was unhappy because of me, and not you or anyone or anything else. Oh God, this is so hard.
“I’m still unhappy, and I’m unhappy because of what I am. Oh. MUM. I just want to be a girl. I’m trapped in a body and I life that I hate. I’ve always known this, and I’ve always wanted to be a girl. I have tried, so hard, to be a good son, but I can’t try any longer. I am just so tired. What am I going to do?” He sat on the floor, while I held his hand.
There was silence on the other end of the phone, but then I heard his mother respond with the best words that he could have heard.
“Oh Mark, just know that we love you, and we can get through this together. I am just so glad that you told us, we were going insane trying to work out what was so wrong.”
Mark collapsed, unable to speak. He dropped the telephone, so I caught it.
I heard, “Hello? Hello? Mark?”
“Hello, Mrs Williams, my name is Emma. I’m Mark’s friend, and I’m afraid he’s a little upset, right now. He was so afraid that you would hate him for what he had to tell you, so as you haven’t it’s all become a bit much,” I told her.
“Did he tell you?” she asked me.
“Not really, I sort of guessed, so we talked though his best options. He has been unhappy for so long, I just thought, for his sake, that he should bite the bullet. I’m sorry that it had to come by phone, but it took a while to get him to build up the courage to call,” I said.
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear him tell us why. His father has almost had a breakdown over it. He has blamed himself.”
“I thought he might have done. I think you ought to call Gwen, and come and pick him up. He really needs an awful lot of love, right now,” I said.
“I’ll do that, and Emma?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You’re an angel,” she said.
“Hardly, but I’ll stay with him until you get here,” I said. I hung up the phone, and sat on the floor next to Mark.
He’d crumpled where he sat, with his elbows on his raised knees and his face on his arms, just sobbing gently, mainly through relief. This young guy had just been through over ten years of hell, his worst fears were now cast away, and now his demons were partially dispersed. He now had to face his tough future, with love and support, instead of bottling everything up.
We sat on the wooden floor for nearly half an hour, and my bum was getting numb. Gwen came down the corridor, sitting, to my surprise, on the floor next to Mark. She smiled at me, putting her arm around Mark.
“Okay, Mark, what do you say to going somewhere a little comfortable?” she said.
Mark raised his head a little and looked at her, more than a little surprised. He looked at me, and then back at Gwen.
“Your parents will be here in about twenty minutes. Let’s get you a little more with it, all right?” she said.
We helped him to stand, taking him to Gwen’s sitting room. He refused to let go of my hand, so we sat on the sofa together.
Gwen just sat and smiled at him. He was looking rather sheepish, and he kept shaking his head. I knew that he was hearing his mother say, “We love you,” over, and over again.
At last, the doorbell rang, so Gwen motioned me to stay with him, as she got up and went to answer it herself. She did everything so elegantly and gracefully. I was to remember this, so whenever I felt like panicking, I would think how Gwen would do it, and try to emulate her.
I heard voices in the hall. After a couple of minutes the door opened and Gwen returned with a couple, who had to be Mark’s parents. His mother smiled a little uncertainly at me, but his dad’s face was ashen. I honestly thought he was going to have a heart attack or something. I let go of Mark’s hand, and allowed his mother to take my place. He immediately hugged her, and they both burst into tears. His father went on his knees and joined them. Gwen and I left very quietly.
We went to the kitchen, where I made us both a cup of tea. Gwen asked me no questions, and said very little. We drank our tea, and then I made another pot, putting three cups on a tray with some milk and sugar.
We went back to the sitting room, to find them talking in hushed voices.
I put the tray on the table, and was about to leave.
“Emma, please stay,” said Gwen.
“Mr and Mrs Williams, Emma has made some tea, and I think it would be just the thing to get you focussed,” she said.
I poured the tea and I handed them round, even Mark took a cup.
I sat on a chair near the door.
“Now, I only know what you told me on the telephone. Emma has not told me anything, and I haven’t asked her. I believe I have a fair idea as to what has happened, so I accept that your immediate action is to have some time together. Mark has to come to certain decisions, and we need to be kept in the loop. All I will say is that his place here is secure, should he wish to return to us. Moreover, indeed, however he wishes to return to us. Please let us know what you decide.”
They drank their tea, and I could see that Mr Williams was looking considerably better. He took Mark to his room to collect some things, so Mrs Williams came over to where I sat. I stood up.
“Mark told us how you helped him. Thank you,” she said.
“Mark knew what he had to do, he just needed persuading to do it,” I said.
“Well, thank you for persuading him. We now have our child back.”
“Take care of him, he is still hurting,” I said.
“Oh, we will,” She looked at Gwen, who simply smiled at her.
“I really don’t know where to go from here,” she admitted.
“One step at a time,” said Gwen. “And always with love.”
I heard them coming down the stairs. We went into the hall, and Mr Williams came over to me.
“Thank you Emma, for being there for him. You’ve been a good friend.” He then kissed my cheek.
Mrs Williams just hugged me, and Mark threw his arms around me and started crying again.
“Thanks, Emma, I don’t think I could have gone on without you,” he said.
“Go on, and good luck. I’ll pray for you. Keep in touch,” I said, and they left.
I watched them go, but became aware that Gwen was watching me.
“You’re a very complex girl, Emma Pearson,” she said.
“I’m sorry?” I said, genuinely confused.
“Your capacity to care is wonderful, but exactly where does all that wisdom come from in one so young?” she asked.
I smiled, “I’ve been to places that most people never get to go,” I said, as enigmatically as I could. To my surprise, she laughed and clapped her hands.
“Oh. Bravo. What a wonderful line. Emma, you are priceless, I am so glad that Michael brought you to us.”
I had to laugh with her.
“You’ve had a rough evening, so go and get some rest. I know you won’t mention any of this to anyone. I will announce that he had some family problems, and we will let them sort them out. Goodnight, my dear.”
“Goodnight Gwen,” I said, and went up to my room.
It was about eight o’clock as I approached my room, and the payphone rang. I answered it.
“Could I speak to Emma please?” It was Steve’s voice.
“I’m sorry she was arrested early this afternoon for impersonating a human, she is being extradited to Mars tomorrow,” I said, in a silly voice.
“Hi Em, you are a fool,” he said, laughing.
“It takes one to know one,” I said.
“I accept that.”
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’m good. I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said. I realised that I was looking forward to seeing him.
“Me too,” I admitted.
“Have you asked anyone to the gig, yet?”
“Yes, about six say they are coming, and I was going to phone a girl friend who works in MK,” I said, just remembering Pam from the makeup counter.
“I think there will be quite a few coming.”
“Good. Are we going to get a chance to rehearse?” I asked.
“Yes, if we get together on Saturday afternoon, we have the hall from noon to set up. We can go through our numbers, and if you need any words, we have all the songbooks.”
“That sounds fine. You aren’t expecting me to sing every number, are you?”
“No, you can sing whatever you want to, either as main vocalist or as backing. If you have any other girls interested in backing, then they’re welcome. To be honest, all you have to do is look gorgeous, and that’ll do the trick.”
I laughed, as he was a real soppy sod.
“I love your laugh,” he said.
“Stop getting soppy on me.”
“I’m sorry. It really isn’t like me. I just can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Steve, you’ve only met me once, for goodness sakes.”
“Yeah, and it’s changed my life.”
“My God. Steve, get real on me, I’m very flattered, but you don’t know me.”
“Maybe not, but I’d like to, if you’ll let me?”
I couldn’t help laughing again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, at five. Sleep well, lover boy.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone, and went to my room and found Pam’s phone number. I called her. She was surprised and pleased to hear from me, and was thrilled to hear about the gig. She was working on Saturday morning, but was free for the rest of the day. She said she would persuade her ‘dweeb’ to drive her down to it, and that she would try to get a couple of mates along too.
I went back to my room, and Sheri popped her head round the door.
“Hi Em. What happened with Mark, earlier? I heard that he’s gone home with his parents.”
“Some sort of personal crisis or something,” I said.
“Someone said that you sat with him for hours, and he was very upset,” she said.
“Yup. I did, and he was. I can’t tell you any more at the mo, Sheri. It’s just I promised to say nothing. Just let’s say, he wasn’t a happy bunny, and hopefully, things may get better for him,” I said.
Sheri sat next to me on my bed.
“Mark’s a funny bloke. I never really got to know him,” she said.
“I don’t think he let anyone get to know him, and now I know him better, I can understand why.”
“Are you still doing this gig on Saturday?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Yes, why?”
“My dad phoned, he’s got to do some unexpected business in London, and he won’t get out until Sunday. So I was wondering, is there any chance I could come along?”
“Great. Of course. I only had old Stevie on the phone a few minutes ago, and he was asking whether any of the girls wanted to come and sing. This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain drummer, would it?” I asked, She reddened and smiled.
“Has daddy really got work to do?”
“Oh, yes, but he would be finished by 3pm, so I thought, why not?” She smiled.
I laughed.
“Have you heard from him?” I asked.
“He phoned me yesterday, so I called him today,” she admitted. “How about Steve?”
“Oh, he calls me every day, and I think the poor sap thinks he is in love,” I said.
“What do you feel for him?”
I shrugged, thinking for a moment.
“He makes me laugh, I like that. He kisses well, and I really like that. I don’t know Sheri, it’s all a bit sudden, and I’ve a lot on my plate at the moment. I don’t really want to get too serious with anyone yet,” I said.
“I think he’s very sexy. And you look good together, as you’re both tall and fair,” Sheri said.
“Stop pairing us off,” I laughed at her.
She laughed as well.
“You do feel something for him,” she teased.
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But it’s still too early.”
“When are you seeing him?”
“He’s picking me up from college on Friday, and then we’re going out for a meal and a movie.”
“Are you staying the night with him, then?”
“Sheri, no, I am not. He lives in the same village, so he’ll drop me off when we go back. Honestly, what do you think I’m like?” I asked.
She shrugged, “You give the impression of being very worldly. How old are you, anyway?”
“I’m only sixteen, and I am not worldly at all,” I admitted.
“No? You’re older than that, with your figure and the way you walk and talk, I thought you were about eighteen?” she said.
I shook my head, “I must have had a rough life,” I said.
“What movie are you going to see?”
“I don’t know, I guess we’ll choose one when we get there. Why do you fancy coming too?”
“Yes, but only if Dave can come.”
“Dave? Is that the Drummer?”
She nodded.
“Why don’t you call him, but make sure he speaks to Steve, he may have other plans,” I suggested
“Okay.” She grinned and went to make the call.
I repainted my toenails while I waited.
Sheri returned all bouncy.
“He was with Steve when I called. They’re happy to make it a foursome. Isn’t that great?” she said.
I was a little relieved, as I got the impression that Steve may try to come on a bit strong. He was nearly twenty, so his expectations may be rather more than I was prepared to deliver. I didn’t want to send the wrong signals, but then I didn’t want to drive him away. Being a girl was rather more difficult than I had first imagined. Particularly when dealing with boys.
Sheri stayed, and we both did our nails. She noticed that I didn’t have my ears pierced, so she suggested that we go and get them done on Saturday morning. I agreed, and I mentioned that Pam might be able to give us both a makeover.
Sheri left me, so I went to bed. It was so lovely going to bed happy, but I wondered what my darling mother was up to.
Part 6
We finished our last session by four thirty and, I have to confess, that I was clock watching for the last hour. Steve seems to have had a greater effect on me than I had thought.
I dashed upstairs, putting on a dark tight skirt and tights, then a pretty top, with a low collar. It was still cold, but I wanted to look good. I pulled on my long black boots, and threw on a warm sweater. I tried my old leather jacket on, and it was actually quite sexy. Although a boy’s jacket, it looked really good.
I spent some time getting my makeup just right, and fussed with my hair. It was a little longer now, but I was planning to let it grow.
Sheri popped her head round the door.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” she asked.
“Just finished,” I said, putting some bits in my shoulder bag. I looked at her, thinking she looked stunning. She was wearing a pretty dress and a short coat. She had done her makeup in such a way to accentuate her exotic eyes and very high cheekbones. She had very long black hair, which cascaded half way down her back.
“You look fabulous, Sheri. I love your makeup,” I said.
“You look pretty good, yourself,” she said. I picked up my holdall, and wrapped my long scarf around my neck.
We went down stairs arm in arm.
Steve was waiting in the car park. He was by a blue Ford Mondeo, obviously his dad’s. Dave was sitting in the car, less inclined to freeze his balls off than Steve was.
Steve was pacing up and down, wearing a path in the gravel. He saw us, his face transforming into a huge grin.
He ran towards me and, I have to confess, my heart had a little flutter as he approached. I don’t know quite what I expected, but he had obviously been bottling something up for the whole week.
Before I knew what had happened, he had wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me bodily into the air. I put my arms around his neck, partially because that was the only place I could put them, and partly because I wanted to.
I was about to say something rude, but I found that I couldn’t, as he was kissing me. Or rather, I found that we were kissing, as I confess that I was responding somewhat passionately.
In the meantime, Dave had got out of the car, and had given Sheri a shy kiss on the cheek. They were both standing staring at us. I broke off from the kiss, a little reluctantly, as I was enjoying it rather too much.
“Oi. Woah, slow down!” I said.
Steve let me back to planet earth, but still held onto me. I had dropped my bags on the gravel.
“Hi Steve, are you pleased to see me, or what?” I asked.
He just looked at me, kissing me again.
“What. Definitely what,” he said. “You look fantastic. But then, even wearing a bin-bag you’d look great.”
“Flatterer. Are we staying here all day, or are we going to go for something to eat?” I asked.
He reluctantly released me, and put my bags in the car. Sheri already was in the car. She and Dave were sitting in the back.
“Hi Sheri, good to see you. I hear you are going to join us tomorrow after all?” Steve said.
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“That’s brilliant. Are you staying with Emma tonight?” he asked.
“The plan is we both stay at the vicarage tonight and Saturday night, Sheri’s dad will pick her up before lunch on Sunday, and will spend the day with her,” I said.
“Okay, now what first, food or movie?” he asked.
“It’s too early for food, let’s take the movie first, and then have something to eat afterwards,” I suggested.
Steve drove into Milton Keynes, parking the car near the multiplex. We went into the cinema and looked at what was on offer. He kept one large arm wrapped very possessively around me, and it felt good. Dave was a little more restrained, and I noticed that Sheri threaded her arm through his.
“How about Men in Black?” Steve said.
I looked at the blurb, and noted that it was just about to start. To be honest, I wasn’t that bothered, but it looked good.
“Fine by me, Sheri?”
“Okay.”
Steve went and paid for all of us, so I lingered hopefully by the popcorn. He grinned, bought a huge bucket and gave it to me. I kissed him. Dave bought some for him and Sheri to share.
We sat in the middle at the back, and the lights went down just after we settled. I had taken my jacket and pullover off, finding someone’s left arm draped across my shoulders.
I sat and munched my way through the commercials and trailers. Occasionally, Steve would grab a handful of popcorn and munch away. Then the movie started. I loved the opening scene of the bug flying across the desert. When it came to grief on the windscreen of the van, I jumped.
I felt Steve’s arm tighten, as he gently squeezed me. I snuggled against him and kept on munching.
Between us, we demolished the lot. I sat back and enjoyed the film. At some of the squishy and slimy bits, I caught him looking at me. I noticed that Sheri was hiding behind her hands, but I thought it was really cool.
I looked at Steve.
“What?” I whispered.
“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you?”
I nodded. I felt his hand tighten on my shoulder, and I looked at him. His other hand came across and held my face; he leaned across, and kissed me again. I lifted my face and just went with him. I brought my left hand up and curled it around his neck.
I felt all warm and fuzzy and my breasts started to tingle. His hand slipped from my face, to gently cup my left breast, squeezing slightly, and twiddling my nipple. I started to feel very good, so I held his head and kissed him more vigorously.
He left my breast, and I felt his hand on my thigh, as he slipped it up my skirt. Feeling really tarty, I opened my legs, and felt his fingers on the outside of my knickers and tights. He just rubbed me, and I felt myself getting moist.
I dropped my hand to his waist, felt for his zip, and slowly undid it. His coat was covering what we were doing. I ran my hand inside, and his hot and very hard cock filled my hand. It was circumcised, and I ran my thumb over the knob. I felt his fluid seeping out of the little hole, and I grasped it and started to stroke him.
He had managed to get inside my tights and knickers, and his fingers were inside me. I was squirming with pleasure, as he found my clitoris. I would have screamed, if we were not locked together in a kiss. I came, feeling myself all wet. He was moaning and I new he wasn’t far away from coming, so I bent down, and took his cock into my mouth. Just as I wrapped my lips around it, I squeezed his hairy balls, and he shuddered and ejaculated into my mouth. He thrust himself deep into my throat, I nearly gagged, and swallowed his semen. I kept my mouth locked around his cock, until I felt him going soft. Then I came up and he smiled at me, I held his head, and drew him down to me, and kissed him, letting him taste what I had just had to swallow.
His fingers were still inside me, and I came again, then I pulled his hand away. I glanced at Sheri, and she and Dave were so engrossed in each other, they hadn’t seen us.
I looked at the film, but had no idea what had happened. Steve put himself away, and put his arm around my shoulders again.
“I wouldn’t mind a drink,” I whispered to him. He laughed, and got up.
He was back after a little while, and passed me a large paper cup. I was orange Fanta. He also gave me some tissues.
I smiled, “You made the mess, you can wipe it up,” I whispered to him. He started to, and I realised that this was defeating the object, as I was just getting worse every time he touched me. I took them from him and did it myself. I couldn’t believe I had produced so much liquid.
We settled down and watched the film. I just couldn’t believe just how easily that had come to me, and how natural it was. It dawned on me just how easy it would be to have sex, and to fall pregnant.
We ended up at the Chinese restaurant at a little after eight. We ordered a huge set meal, and I lived up to my reputation, and ate like a pig. Sheri, bless her, had a small appetite, but I made up for her. I loved everything, the hors d’oeuvres, the crispy duck and pancakes, all the dishes, and even the green tea at the end. There was not a piece of food sent back to the kitchen.
Steve dropped Dave off first, and then took us to the vicarage. I kissed him, and let my hand linger near his groin.
“Thanks, for everything,” he said.
“You too,” I kissed him again, and then remembered Sheri who was outside waiting for me.
“Pick us up at noon, as I have a couple more meeting us here. So there will be four of us,” I said.
“That’s okay, I’ll have the van. We’ll drop the instruments off and I’ll come and get you straight afterwards,” he said, so I kissed him again. My heart went aflutter again.
“I miss you already,” I said. He just grinned.
“But don’t get any ideas, my ground rules still apply,” I added.
He nodded, “I can live with that,” he said, and grinned.
We watched as they drove away, then, turning, we went into the house.
Mary and Mike were in the sitting room, and were pleased to see us. I gave them both a hug, and we sat and told them all about our week and the evening. I was particularly bubbly, and could hardly stop talking.
Eventually we drifted off to bed. I undressing when Mary knocked on my door, it was open a little, so she came in. I was in my bra and knickers, and she sat on the bed. I took my bra off, slipped on my nightie, and then slipped my knickers off.
“I’m so pleased that your first date went so well,” she said.
“So am I. He’s a nice boy,” I said. It dawned on me that I had given a blowjob to a boy on my first ever date.
My God, what a tart!
“He’s almost twenty. Does he know how old you are?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Sit down Emma. Please.”
I sat next to her, and she took one of my hands.
“It is so lovely that you are such a pretty and bright girl, and that you are having such a wonderful time. However, mistakes happen, and these mistakes completely change lives.
“I know this boy and his family, his mother Joan, and father Ron, and they are very nice. But, I do know that he thinks the world of you. I met his mother yesterday, and she went on and on about how smitten Stephen was. Just don’t let things go too far, too soon. Oh, I’m making a right mess of this,” Mary moaned.
“No you aren’t. I know what you are saying. I like Steve - I like him a lot. I’m not sure I need the complication of a serious relationship now. He makes me laugh, and I feel good with him around. After this evening, I am aware of how easy it would be to let him have sex with me, and I think I would probably really enjoy it. I want to be a singer, not a single mum. I don’t want to have a reputation of opening my legs to any boy who I quite like. I won’t have sex until I am old enough to deal with it, both the emotional aspect, and any consequences. I’m not old enough yet,” I said.
“Would you like me to make an appointment with the doctor, so you can talk about contraception?” Mary said. I realised how hard it must be for her to talk like this to me.
“Mary, thank you, it’s a very kind thought. But no, not yet. I have told Steve my ground rules, and I do trust him. My career must come first, and I need to take care of my mother at some stage,” I said.
“Promise me something?” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“Promise me that if you ever have sex, you take precautions.”
“I promise,” I said.
Mary smiled. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, Emma, but I don’t want you to go through what Caroline did.”
“How many abortions did she have?” I asked.
Mary was almost in tears, and she looked at me in surprise.
“Two. How did you know?”
“I didn’t, but it wasn’t hard to figure out,” I said.
“She was fifteen when she fell pregnant the first time. Luckily, I noticed in time, otherwise we would have been too late. She never told us who the father was. I think it was someone local,” Mary said.
“I won’t make the same mistakes, I promise,” I said.
She gave me a hug, and felt me alone.
I was too wound up to sleep, so I took another look at Caroline’s clothes. I wanted something smart for the gig, and so I took everything out of the wardrobe, and put it all on the bed.
I noticed a box on the floor, right at the back of the walk-in wardrobe. I picked it up. It was an old shoebox, and it had an elastic band around it. With my curiosity stimulated, I opened it. There was a small notebook and some letters inside.
Feeling rather a snoop, I read some of the letters. Most were from a boy called Ricky, and he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. His writing was poor, but his spelling and grammar were terrible. I guessed that he was about sixteen when he wrote them, and by the dates, she was a little younger.
There was nothing in them which indicated any knowledge or awareness of Caroline’s pregnancy. I put them away, rather bored. Then I looked at the notebook. It was a plain little book, but Caroline had ruled it as a diary. I was looking at the year when she was fifteen, in 1988.
Most of it was dull,
|
Friday: argued with dad, he is so stuffy. |
And so on.
Then I came to another entry:
|
Sunday: CG smiled at me again, I think he fancies me. |
It went on, and she recorded seventeen sexual encounters with CG. Then came the entry:
|
Wednesday: I am really late. I was sick last night. |
I suddenly despised CG, and had no idea who he was. He was married, with a child younger than Caroline. I didn’t even know anyone with CG as initials. Oh, yes I did. Charles Gregson - the slime! It all fitted, he was married, had the right aged child, who just happens to be called William, and Charles would require reports from Mike as part of the PCC set up.
I became angry, now I knew.
I read the diary again.
|
Saturday: Told CG, he told me it couldn’t have been him, but he had been the only one. |
That was enough, as I couldn’t read anymore. I decided to do something about this, but what? What if I was wrong?
I spent sometime thinking about it, and then I devised a wicked plan. I was grinning as I fell asleep.
I was up early the next morning, and Sheri and I persuaded Mary to take us into Milton Keynes. She didn’t need much persuading, as she quite liked the idea of having a girly shopping morning. We arrived at about nine.
We went straight to see Pam, so we had our makeovers, I even persuaded Mary to have one. Pam was in good form, and was really looking forward to the evening. I was completely skint now, so was looking forward to earning a few quid from the gig. I had my ears pierced, and the popping noise of the needle gun going through my ears will say with me for a very long time.
We did a little shopping, or rather they did, I just watched. It was so frustrating knowing that I was an heir to millions, but I didn’t have a bean.
We were walking back to the car park, when my blood ran cold. Sitting on a bench was Raoul. He was watching everyone closely, or rather he was watching all the young men and boys closely. He glanced at us, each of us in turn. He stared right into my eyes, and I forced myself to laugh at something Sheri said. I noticed his eyes fell to my breasts, and then to my long legs. I was wearing a very short skirt, and he almost dribbled.
Then his eyes were onto the next target, a group of four teen-aged boys, all wearing baseball caps. He had seen me, and immediately discounted me for several reasons. I was so obviously female, I was tall, I was older, and he fancied me. I suddenly felt very confident.
“Hang on a mo, I thought I saw Pam, I just want to tell her something. I’ll catch you up,” I said. They walked off towards the jewellers. I went to a payphone, and dialled 999.
“Emergency, what number are you calling from, and which service please?”
I gave the number, and got through to the police operator.
“Yes, there is a weird guy sitting on a bench in the main Milton Keynes shopping centre, by the Pizza Hut. He is staring at all the young boys, and I think he may be up to no good. He had something in his pocket, I think it might have been a gun,” I said.
The operator tried to get me to stay on the line, and I could see a CCTV camera start to move. I hung up the phone and ran to join the others.
They were looking in a shop window, and I noticed the camera angle reached the telephone box, so I was now fifty yards away.
Sheri was admiring some earrings, so we went into the shop. I was busy watching what was happening outside. Raoul was still on the bench, staring at another small group of boys. Two uniform officers approached him. They were both carrying MP5 Carbines. The control room had sent an armed response vehicle.
It got better, because they challenged Raoul, and his hand flew to his jacket.
I clearly heard the policeman shout, “Armed Police! If you move I will shoot!”
They were both pointing their carbines at Raoul, and the policeman said, “Let me see both hands slowly. Do it now!”
Raoul produced his hands. They were empty.
“On top of your head. Now!”
He complied.
“Stand up. Now!”
He stood.
“Turn away from me. Now!”
He turned.
The other officer handed his colleague his carbine and went round to Raoul’s side. He searched him, pulling out a small black self-loading pistol. He held it up for the camera to monitor.
He concluded the search, placing handcuffs on Raoul. Two unarmed officers approached and took him to an awaiting van. While I watched, a white van pulled up, and a man with a big brief case went to the phone box. He put the case on the ground, and then dusted the phone for fingerprints. I smiled; Russell’s prints were going to be all over it.
“Gosh, how exciting,” said Sheri. All shopping was suspended.
Mary looked at me, frowning. Sheri went back to the earrings, and I said “Raoul.”
Mary’s eyes widened. She looked at the armed officers, as they took off their weapons and got into their police car. Several unarmed officers were speaking to onlookers to see if anyone had called the police.
Sheri bought the earrings and we left the shop. We returned to the car, and headed home again. I was rather quiet, but Sheri was excited about what we had seen.
“I wonder who he was. Do you think he was a terrorist?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“Who knows, but I’m sure it will be on the news or in the papers tomorrow,” Mary said, glancing at me.
When we got home, Sheri went to try on her earrings.
“Can I use your mobile, please Mary?” I asked.
She gave it to me. “Do I want to know?”
I shook my head.
I dialled DS Higgins’ number.
“Hello, DS Higgins?” I asked, making my voice sound boyish.
“Who is this?”
“Did you get the letter?”
“Russell is that you? Yes, I got the letter. I am happy that your prints were on it. I still need to see you.”
“That can’t happen, not while my mother sends hit men after me.”
“What do you mean?”
“The man arrested with a gun, this morning in Milton Keynes, his name is Raoul Cavois, he was sent to kill me by my mother.”
“How do you know?”
“You know I phoned it in. You’ve taken the prints from the phone, so you know I was there. Why else would her lover be loitering near where I went missing, staring at boys all day?”
“Who is he?”
“He runs a gym in Menton in the south of France. He believes that if I am bumped off she stands to inherit at least fifteen million pounds.”
“If you come in, we can protect you.”
“I’m not doing so bad out here, thanks all the same,” I said, and rung off.
Mary was watching me.
“I’d hate to make an enemy out of you,” she said.
I smiled. “Mary, you are the nearest thing to a proper mother that I have ever had. You and Mike mean the world to me, so I’d never ever do anything to put you in danger,” I said. “Have you a photocopier I could use?”
“In Mike’s study, why?”
“Believe me, you really don’t want to know,” I said.
I went into Mike’s study and typed a few lines on the word processor. Being very careful, I printed it off. Then I copied the relevant pages from the notebook, and dug out an envelope. I addressed the envelope, using the computer, and inserted the sheets inside. I put a first class stamp on it, and put it in my bag. I then ensured that all trace of everything was erased from the computer.
I went up and collected a variety of clothes that I wanted to wear for the gig, and admired Sheri’s earrings. It was about twenty past twelve, and Steve arrived in his van. I grabbed my bag, putting everything I thought I needed into a holdall.
“Have a wonderful time,” Mary said, as I hugged her goodbye.
“Thanks. I don’t know what time we will be back.”
She gave me a back door key.
Steve greeted me as if we’d been parted for months, and eventually we set off for Winslow. We all fitted in the front, with me next to Steve. He was clearly quite excited, and he told us why.
“My brother was coming tonight, with some of the lads from work. But they arrested a kidnapper today, and he is part of one of my brother’s jobs.” Steve said.
“Oh yes, what was that all about?” I asked. Knowing the answer.
“Well, there’s this kid, he went missing from his school, a big posh private school. Not far from here, as it happens. Anyway, a few weeks back, he just ups and vanishes, overnight. The school report him missing and contact the mother. His Dad is dead, and his mum is French and a right bitch by all accounts. She lives somewhere in the south of France.
“Anyway she comes over, and the DS meets her in Aylesbury, and she doesn’t want to know. She stands to inherit a bundle if this kid dies. The police run a press release, and the kid phones in on an unlisted mobile. He tells the DS that he is fit and well, and has no intention of going back to school. The DS gives the job to Brian, my brother, and tells him to make local enquiries to trace the boy. Apparently, he was seen just after four am by a lorry driver, heading towards Aylesbury.
“Then, the boy sends a letter to the DS, and his prints are all over it. He alleges that his mother will try to get some French bloke, her lover, to kill him, and make it look like an accident. Well today, the police get a 999 call from a phone box in Milton Keynes, it was anonymous, but they think it was the boy. He states that this French bloke is in Milton Keynes, and he has a gun. The Support Group ARV turns up and sure enough, there is a French bloke with a gun. They interviewed him all day, and he said nothing, but they found his car, a mobile, and loads of documents and photographs, which all linked him with the mother. So now they want the French Police to arrest the mother.”
“Oh. We saw it all,” said Sheri.
“Really?”
“Yeah, didn’t we Emma? We were in the jewellers over the road, and suddenly these police officers with guns came over and shouted at a guy on a bench. It must have been him. We must have walked right past him. We saw them take the gun off him and everything,” she said.
“Did you give your names to the police?” he asked.
“No. We only saw the police arresting the guy, so did hundreds of people. It isn’t everyday you see police with machine guns running about,” I said.
I managed to change the subject, and we were soon pulling up outside the hall. We went in, to find that it was nearly three times the size of the church hall in Little Mudsley. The band was all set up, and there was a reasonable dressing area to the rear of the stage.
Karen, Johanna and Suzy, three of the girls from our year, arrived in Karen’s beaten up old mini. They all looked glamorous, and the guys in the band perked up noticeably.
We went up on the stage, and tried to work out where we were all going to stand. We checked off the numbers we knew, which weren’t a lot, but we had the music and words, placed where we could see them.
For about half the numbers, Sheri and I, Suzy, Karen and Johanna were the backing singers, while Steve sang the main lyrics. But for the other half, I was the main vocalist. We rehearsed those first, and I was pleased. I picked up the lyrics quite fast, as I was reasonably familiar with all the songs anyhow. I placed the songbooks within easy sight, and felt confident that I could manage.
We then rehearsed the rest, working out some simple steps and routines that would give a sexy dimension to our performance.
We then went back and rehearsed the whole lot again, in the order we were going to do them. Steve was grinning at the start, and by the end, we all were, only his grin was very wide.
We had all decided to wear black mini-skirts, and show as much leg as possible. I had a black skirt, with a very tight black top, which left my mid-rift bare. I had a pair of very long elegant fingerless gloves, which came up above my elbows. I planned to wear my long black boots with the high heels and tights.
When we all changed, we found that we had all decided to be in black, and we looked really cool. Our make up from the makeover was fine, and Sheri and I helped the others create some good effects. We had lots of glitter and had a lot of fun with it.
We heard the hall filling up, and I began to get nervous. I looked at the others, and we were all getting a bit jittery. Steve brought over some water, so we had a good drink, the last thing we wanted was to have dry throats.
There had been quite a bit of publicity for the evening, and Steve had put “Emma & the Four ‘M’s” as a backing group, on the posters. The first number was to have a real heavy base rhythm, so I was going to sing it to a bump and grind routine, similar to Kylie Minogue at her raunchiest. It had been written by some of the band, as were several numbers.
I peeped through the curtain, and the place was absolutely packed. The organiser came in, looking really pleased. He saw us and his smile got bigger. “Five minutes,” he said.
We took our places. The stage was in darkness, and we all had our backs to the audience. The curtain went back, and Dave counted us is on the drums, “One, two, three, four”…………….and we were off.
I spun round, and walked right up to the edge of the stage, as the spot hit me, the girls all came in on cue and the band were spot on. The adrenaline flowed, so I just went for it. I sang my heart out, strutting, wiggling, and showing them my boobs. I walked up and down, teasing all the guys at the front. They loved it. I saw Pam in the crowd, about ten feet front from the front, so I gave her a wave. The girls were great, as the simple but very sexy routines looked very slick.
We went straight into the second number, Karma Chameleon, and I thought I did it better than Boy George.
The rest of the gig just flowed and, as we went on, I thought we got better. It was nice to drop back and be part of the backing group for a while, as I was getting exhausted up at the front.
At one point, Steve and I sang a slow duet. We both had to read the words from the sheet, but we were sitting on high stools at the front, and it went really well.
We finished up with a couple of Rock and Roll classics, by which time the whole hall was heaving. The applause when we finished our last number was deafening, and I felt on top of the world. We five girls all came to the front, taking our bows together, and the band joined us, with a guy between each of us.
The slow hand clapping started, so we had to give them one more. We had a quick confab, I suggested a real oldie, and they all grinned. Wes, on base guitar, started us off with a simulated motorcycle engine rev, and I launched into, He was the leader of the pack.
Finally, it was over, and for the first time I looked at the clock. I was one a.m., and I was totally knackered.
A small group of friends were permitted to stay, and Pam and her dweeb and another pair of friends came up to me.
“Hey, Emma. Why didn’t you tell me you were a professional? You were brilliant. You all were,” she said.
“Thanks Pam. Grab a drink,” I said, drinking from a water bottle.
“Emma, this is Paul,” Pam indicated a nice enough looking lad, I didn’t think he was a dweeb.
“Hi Paul. Did you enjoy it?” I asked.
“You were great,” he said, grabbing a bottle of Bud.
Pam introduced me to her friends, whom I instantly forgot. They were very complimentary, but my brain was shutting down, bit by bit.
Steve shouted, “Brian. You made it, man.”
I saw some men walk through the crowd. The front one was obviously Steve’s brother; he was very similar, just a bit stockier. There was another man, much the same age, but tall, and thin, and the man at the back was older, mid thirties, and with short dark hair. He was wearing a leather jacket, and they all had “COP” written all over them.
They walked over to where we were. The older man looked at me and our eyes met. He had icy blue eyes and he looked hard. I met his stare, so he was the one to break away.
“Brian, this is Emma. She’s the girl I was telling you about. Emma, this is my brother, that is Mick Harmon, and the old guy is Ron Higgins.”
They shook my hand, and Ron held my hand rather tightly, I thought. The other girls were introduced, and the party seemed just to take off. I was sitting on the stage, and Ron came over, he had a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Hi, can I get you a drink?” he asked.
I waved my bottle of water at him. “I need to re-hydrate. Booze is not the best thing for me,” I said.
He sat down next to me.
“You were all very good, are you professionals?”
“Not yet, we are all at the Teesdale College of Performing Arts, in Buckingham. Steve and I met at a charity gig at a church hall, and he asked if we would like to add a bit of colour to the event,” I explained.
“I really enjoyed it, but I have to confess, it’s not really my scene,” he said.
“It takes all sorts,” I said.
“How long have you been at college?”
“It’s my first year, of a two year diploma course,” I said, neglecting to mention that I only started in February.
“Are you enjoying it?”
“I love it. There are some great people, and it’s all good fun. How about you, do you like being a detective?” I asked.
“Am I that obvious?” he asked, chuckling.
“I suppose you could have C.I.D. tattooed on your forehead. That would do the trick,” I said.
He laughed.
“Are you married?” I asked.
“Why, are you interested?”
“No, but I like to know about people.”
“What do you think?” he asked.
“You don’t have a ring, but that means nothing, your shirt is ironed, your trousers are ironed, with tramlines, you enjoy drinking from a bottle, when no one is around to complain. Yes, I reckon you are married, and you hate the way she irons your trousers, but it beats the hell out of doing it yourself,” I said.
He looked at me strangely.
“I’m impressed. As it happens, you’re right. Did Steve tell you?”
I laughed and shook my head.
“No, I’ve not heard of you until you were introduced to me,” I said.
“Then you should seriously consider becoming a policewoman,” he said.
I laughed.
“Hardly. But I understand that there was a bit of excitement in Milton Keynes this morning?”
“Oh. What was that then?” he asked guardedly.
“Well, Sheri and I were in a jewellers, when we saw this man being arrested by policemen with guns. I was rather exciting,” I said. I knew that Steve would tell Brian that we were there, and so it would be better coming from me.
Ron looked very interested.
“Where were you when he was arrested?” he asked.
“In the little jewellers. About fifty or sixty yards away. Why?”
“Did you notice the man, or walk past him?”
“Not that I remember, he was just sitting on the bench. Wait a minute, yes, he looked at my legs, and I thought, ‘In your dreams.’ He looked a bit weird.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“No. He stared at my legs, and then at Sheri’s. Then he seemed more interested in a group of boys. Was he a pervert?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I doubt it. Could you see the phone box from where you were?”
“Is there one? I don’t remember seeing one,” I said.
“I suppose you’ve got a mobile, most young people seemed to be glued to them?”
“No, I can’t afford one. There’s a payphone in college, and besides, Steve is the only sad muppet I would call, and he always calls me. He’s got a mobile,” I said.
Ron fumbled in his jacket.
“If you looked at a photo, could you tell me if you saw this boy near the place you were when the man was arrested?” he asked, handing me a photograph of me. Well, of Russell; it made my skin crawl a little, but I had to smile at the situation.
I held the photo. It was the same one as had been in the paper.
I shook my head. I really had changed, as this was someone very different to the me that I was so enjoying being.
I saw Sheri, I called her over, handing her the photo.
“Ron is looking for this boy. He may be something to do with the man we saw arrested. Did you see him hanging around near there?” I asked.
“Oh. He’s the kid from the papers, the rich kid who went missing from a posh school,” Sheri said.
I pretended to look again.
“Oh yes. He was in the papers a few weeks ago, I remember now,” I said.
We both decided we hadn’t seen him.
“There were loads of kids around, most of the boys were wearing hats,” Sheri said.
“What’s the connection?” I asked.
“I can’t say at the moment, but he may be in danger. If you do see him, call the police,” Ron said.
“What’s his name?” asked Sheri.
“Russell Drysdale. He’s fifteen, but has no family in the country. We think he’s still in the area, but is proving quite resourceful, and to be honest, I quite admire him,” Ron said.
“Poor kid. Has he no money or anything?” asked Sheri.
“He has a bank card, with some money in his account, but hasn’t used it. I think that he is probably being looked after by someone, so they must know who he is.”
“So who or what is he running from?” I asked.
Ron shrugged. “I’m not sure, it could be his mother. She is hardly the loving mother type, or it could just be he was unhappy, and left the school. It’s not the most liberal establishment I’ve ever visited. But I really do think that there is some danger for him. He is line to inherit quite a bundle, so if he should disappear, I don’t think that mummy will be that upset,” Ron had told us nearly everything, and I had to smile.
“What a cow,” said Sheri. “Have you met her?”
“Yes, she came to Aylesbury police station, and she was a hard woman. I expected to have a tearful case on my hands, but not a bit of it. Her first words were, ‘Little bastard, I’ll fucking kill him.’ so she did not immediately endear herself to me. I don’t blame Russell for buggering off, really,” he admitted.
“Do you think he is disguising himself, and just waiting for the fuss to die down?” I asked.
“Probably, but he must come forward eventually, as his mother will go to court to have him declared dead, if no one hears from him for a set period.”
“Has he not been in touch at all?” I asked.
“I’ve spoken to him, and he has sent me letters, with his prints over them. As long as he keeps in contact with me, he should be fine. But I really need to see him, to satisfy a court that he is still alive,” Ron explained.
“So, if I pretended to be him, and claimed the inheritance, I could be rich,” I said.
Ron laughed.
“Emma, you may be a very talented singer, and probably an accomplished actress as well, but somehow you could never convince anyone that you are a boy. I’m sorry, there are some girls who may pass as boys, but you will never be one of them,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t know, I have blonde hair and look a little like him,” I said.
“Yeah, but so do thousands of boys, and they do not have certain physical features that disqualify them straight away,” he said, staring at my breasts.
I folded my arms and giggled.
Steve fought his way through to me, slipping his arm around my shoulders. Ron noticed and nodded slowly.
“Well done, Steve, it was a good show. You all did well. The girls made it special, but you know that, don’t you?” Ron asked.
Steve grinned and nodded. “Yeah, and one girl in particular, right Emma?” he said.
I just smiled.
“How long have you known each other?” Ron asked.
“A couple of months,” Steve said, which was bollocks. It was only about two weeks. If I needed any smoke screen, then Steve was supplying it.
“Well, here’s to you. Success,” Ron said, raising his bottle. We waved our bottles of water at him, and we all laughed. Ron wandered off.
“Do you want some grub, Emma?” Steve asked.
“What do you think?” I said. We both went off in search of food. Once we’d found some, Steve went off to find his brother.
Pam was chatting to Sheri, and the other girls, having found out what Pam did, were asking her all sorts of questions.
I saw her dweeb, Paul, standing by himself, looking a bit lonely. I went over to him.
“Hello Paul, Pam deserted you then?” I asked.
“Hi Emma, yes, they’re into make up and stuff. Not really my area of expertise,” he said.
“What is?”
“What?”
“Your area of expertise, what do you like doing?” I asked.
“I work with my dad, he has a tiling business.”
“Shit. That sounds exciting,” I said sarcastically, but with a smile.
He smiled. “It’s pretty dull, but it pays well.”
“So what do you do for excitement?” I asked.
“I like the movies, I play a little snooker, and sometimes I go fishing,” he said.
Then he looked at me.
“I don’t seem to have much excitement, do I?”
“If you could do anything you wanted to do, right now, anywhere in the world, regardless of cost, what would you do?” I asked him.
He frowned and I caught him having a fleeting look at my breasts.
“Barring anything to do with anyone in this room getting undressed, that is,” I hastily added, and he had the grace to go red.
“I’d like to drive in a rally,” he said, after much thought.
“Why don’t you?” I asked.
“I can’t afford it,” he said.
“No one can go straight in at the top, but there are small local rallies, and you are earning money. Sell your fancy Ford Escort, get a Fiesta, and build your own rally car. Imagine, there you are chatting up a glamorous singer, and she asks you, what do you do for fun? What do you say? ‘I go fishing.’ Or ‘Actually, I have built my own rally car, and I take part in regional rallies.’”
He grinned at me. “Do you think I could?”
“I haven’t a clue, what matters is whether you think you could,” I said.
He nodded.
“I reckon I could, you know. I’d never thought about it before. But I’ve got room in the garage at home, and I’d have to get some more gear. Hey, I really think I could,” he said, getting the most excited I had seen him. Admittedly, I hadn’t seen him for very long, but he was rather more animated now.
I left him, writing down things on the back of an old envelope, and went and sat down to eat my sandwiches and chicken leg.
Steve found me just as I finished. He was grinning as he sat down next to me.
“What are you looking so happy for?” I asked.
“Two reasons, one, we got paid, and here is your cut,” he said handing over an envelope. I opened it and there were ten £20 notes in it. I started calculating how much to give each of the girls.
“Hey, Emma, I’ve paid the girls, they each got £100. That’s yours,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, and the second thing is we’ve been booked up for another three gigs, each Saturday for the next three weeks. Are you interested, the other girls are?”
“Of course, where?”
“Next week in Buckingham, the week after that in Milton Keynes, and the one after that back here again. The Milton Keynes hall is twice the size as this,” he said.
“Can I make a suggestion?” I said.
“Anything.”
“We have got to get together during the week for a rehearsal. We need to do at least one a week every week. We managed tonight, but the time we rehearsed was too short. I will ask Mrs Teesdale if you can come into the college and we could use the concert room to rehearse. Okay?” I asked.
“That sounds great. Will we be allowed to?”
“I can but ask.”
He went off to tell the band, so I slipped out, crossed the road and posted a letter.
We eventually crawled into bed at three a.m. Sheri’s dad was picking her up at nine-thirty from the vicarage, and then there was the church service at ten. I went unconscious.
Mary woke me up at nine. I managed to drag myself downstairs, and to pour some of the cornflakes into a bowl. I was rather stiff.
“I hear it went well,” Mary said.
“I went brilliantly. I’ve earned my first pay, so I can start repaying you,” I said. I took out the £200, and counted out £100.
“That’s for you, I have to give £80 to Gwen, and I’ll keep £20 for me. That’s fair,” I said.
“Don’t be silly, you need everything you can get,” Mary said.
“Please take it. I know how tight things are for you. I need very little, and I will be earning some again next week,” I said.
“Emma, I can’t take your money, not when you have so little.”
I simply got up, kissed her, and stuffed the money into her hand.
“That’s the end of this discussion. Look, you have given me so much, let me do a little in return, please?”
She nodded, and said, “Bless you.”
We went to the morning service, so I sang as well as I could, but I was rather croaky after the previous night. I noticed Charles Gregson and his family. His wife was a rather timid little woman, and their son, William, was a younger version of Charles. This was the lad that Caroline had looked after at the time of the diary.
I tried to imagine his reaction to the package he would receive in a couple of days. I had typed out a simple letter. I knew that what I was doing was blackmail, and that if caught I could face a prison sentence. However, this man had completely ruined three people’s lives. I have no problem with anyone ruining their own life, a waste, but their problem. Nevertheless, to ruin other people’s lives just because you are a selfish bastard, it wasn’t defendable.
|
CHARLES GREGSON You don’t know me, but I know you. Find attached photocopies of Caroline Strong’s diary for 1988. We both know you are the CG mentioned. It even mentions your son Billy. This diary will be distributed to everyone you know, and the local press. If you want to prevent your wife and friends finding out what a despicable bastard you are, then you will comply with the following: - 1. You will resign from the PCC, effective immediately. 2. You will sell your house, and move at least 100 miles away. 3. You will donate the sum of £20,000 to the church fund. Once these three conditions have been complied with, the original notes will be placed into a safe place, and will no longer be a threat to you. However, should you decide to ignore this letter, or at some later date, renege on your undertaking, then the notes will be revealed. A full set of copies has been handed to a solicitor, with instructions to publish should you inform the police, or attempt to trace me. Any contact with the Strong family is forbidden. The past is dead, and so in the past it will remain. Your Nemesis. |
If that didn’t shake him, then nothing would. I worried a little that it wasn’t him, but as I read further parts of the diary, I became convinced I had the right man.
Mike dropped me back at the college that evening. I had hardly walked in the door, when Steve phoned asking me whether I had asked Gwen about the rehearsal possibilities.
I hadn’t, so I went and knocked on her door.
“Come in.”
I entered, to find her sitting at her desk.
“Ah, Emma. What can I do for you?” she asked.
I took out £80 and gave it to her.
“I sang with a band last night, and that is your 40%,” I told her.
She looked at it and put it on her desk.
“Thank you. If you hadn’t done this, I should never have known. That was very honourable,” she said.
“Gwen, I have been asked to sing again with the band, as have some of the other girls. Would it be possible for us to use some facilities within the college to rehearse after seven in the evening?” I asked.
“Of course, will the band want to come onto the campus?”
“Yes, if that is alright?” I asked.
She smiled.
“You haven’t mentioned who else is involved,” she said.
I hesitated, I was aware that I had to pay my 40%, but I didn’t know if anyone else was under the same contract.
She must have been reading my mind, for she said. “Emma, you are the only scholarship student, at the moment. However, I will levy a standard charge of £10 per rehearsal session. It is nominal, but it will keep the status quo.”
I smiled. “Thanks Gwen.”
I left her, and went to phone Steve to tell him the news.
Part 7
The week went past quickly, we rehearsed on the first three evenings, and we became very slick. On Wednesday, Wes, the base guitarist, had written some songs, so we mucked about with them. A couple were just the sort into which a strong female vocalist could really sink her teeth. One was called, It’s a pity, but it’s the truth, and another was, I’ll wait, but not forever.
We played about with the music and lyrics, and were practicing the finished versions, when Gwen walked in on the rehearsal.
She sat at the back and just watched. When we finished, she came up to us.
“That was really good, but I have a couple of suggestions,” she said.
Her couple of suggestions ran to about twelve, dealing with everything from my voice, to the drummer’s fill-ins.
Taking what she said into account, we tried again, and the difference was amazing.
Gwen smiled, nodded, and left us to it. We went through another couple of songs, and then we noticed it was ten o’clock. Steve and the others, loaded their stuff onto the van, and I got a quick kiss goodnight. He wanted to linger, but Gwen was watching from her window.
Later, after Steve and the guys had gone, I was in my room, trying to write some lyrics and she sought me out.
She knocked on my door, even though I always left it wide open, unless I was asleep or changing.
“Hello Gwen. Come in, please.”
I chucked some stuff off my armchair, and she sat down. I sat on the bed, with my legs folded underneath me.
“Emma, I just wanted to say that I was very impressed with your rehearsal. The band seems really quite good,” she said.
I smiled, “Thanks, that means a lot, coming from you,” I said.
“Oh, not really. I’m not exactly an expert in the fickle world of popular music, but I think you ought to consider recording a demo CD, and see if you can’t make a few bob.”
“Really. Do you think we could?” I asked.
“Oh yes, if you speak to your young man, then tomorrow I will ask Edward to let you rehearse in the recording studio, and try to record a sample song,” she said. “But, don’t forget, anything you do in here, the college gets 40%.”
“That’s more than fair,” I said.
She stood up and walked over to my desk. I had been sketching some of the girls. The sketches were lying on my desk. She looked through them, and then she turned and smiled at me.
“Is there anything you aren’t good at, Emma?” she asked.
“Rugby, football, and cricket,” I said, without hesitation.
She laughed, “Have you tried them?”
“Yes, and I was hideously awful,” I said, with a smile.
“Then it’s just as well you are a girl, isn’t it?”
“Just a bit,” I admitted with a grin.
“I had a phone call from Mark’s mother, earlier today,” she said.
“Oh, how is he?”
“They have been to a psychiatrist, and she has diagnosed that he has gender Dysphoria. So they are looking at possible avenues open to them,” she said.
“I hope they manage to sort him out. He is such a nice boy,” I said.
“Well, if they go through with what has been recommended, he will turn out to be a nice girl,” she said.
“Really, so they think he is that serious?” I asked.
“It’s very early, but Mrs Williams believes that the only answer is a full blown sex change.”
“That is quite a decision to have to make. Is that what Mark wants?” I asked.
“Yes, it seems to be. I thought that he might need a friend, so I suggested that Mark call you, from time to time. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all, I was going to ask for his number, but didn’t know if I ought to.”
“I think it will be essential for him to have someone he can talk to. Particularly a girl, who is both sympathetic and able to encourage him. You were so good for him the other night, I was very impressed with how you handled him,” she said.
“I’d like that. It’d be fun having him here while he was in transition, wouldn’t it?” I asked.
“It might be a little difficult, but I am sure we could cope.”
“If the trick is to let him, or her, live as normal a life as possible, then I think it would be essential for him, or her, or whatever. I see what you mean,” I said, grinning.
“If only everyone had your fresh approach to life. Goodnight Emma, dear,” she said, leaving me alone once more.
I dashed to the telephone and called Steve’s mobile for three rings. A minute later, he called back and I told him about the recording idea. He was thrilled, so he planned to get the band up to the college as early as he could on the following day, Thursday.
We chatted on about absolute crap for a few minutes, and I rang off. He really was a soppy sod, but I realised that I was becoming rather too attached to him. I liked having him around, but I did not really want to get too serious yet. I didn’t want to hurt him, but we both needed space to live our lives.
The Thursday rehearsal took place in the small recording studio. Edward Massey was the man in charge, he got the band in first, and they played the two tracks written by Wes. I thought it sounded great, but Edward twiddled some knobs, and made them play both again. Satisfied, he got me, and the backing singers in next, and we put headphones on. We sang along to the music that came through our sets. Again, he made us do them twice.
Edward gave us a thumbs up, and we all went into the big hall to continue with the other numbers, while he mixed the recording, and produced our first demo.
We were just finishing the session and Edward came in.
“Do you want to hear the finished product?” he asked.
We all rushed over to the studio, and sat as he played back the demo. Gwen popped in just as it started. It sounded very good, but I couldn’t believe that it was me singing. It sounded like someone else - someone much older, and when I sang, I’ll wait, my voice sounded really sexy. Everyone was grinning, it was the first time any of us had heard ourselves like this.
When it finished, there was an excited buzz in the room.
Gwen nodded, turning to Steve and the guys, “I think you and I should have a little chat. Girls, could you excuse us please?”
We left and went back to the main hall. We ran through a couple of step routines while we waited. After twenty minutes, the boys appeared.
“Well, what did she want?” I asked, impatiently.
Steve grinned. “We have ourselves an agent. Gwen will deal with the demo, and we have signed a contract with her. She will undertake the negotiations with any interested recording companies, and so we may get something from this after all. She says that if it comes down to it we may just release our own label through the college. But we are in with a chance.”
I was thrilled, but then a thought occurred to me.
“What about your police career?” I asked.
“I’ll still go ahead with that, but if this takes off, I’ll just leave,” he said.
The other guys all had jobs, so were unwilling to throw everything away on a slim chance. They were under no illusions about the difficulties in finding success in this business. If a recording contract was forthcoming, then they could look at things differently, but they were aware that our input made all the difference, and the college bound us.
We said goodnight to the lads, I noticed Wes and Joanna were getting rather close. Sheri and Dave were worse than Steve and I.
I went back to my room, and the pay phone rang. I didn’t think that it wouldn’t be for me, but I answered it anyway.
“Hello, Emma?” said a familiar voice.
“Mark. Is that you?” I was amazed.
“Hi Emma. I just thought I’d call. Is this a bad moment?”
“No, it’s fine. How are you, I’ve been thinking and praying for you?”
“I’m much better, now. I went to see a shrink, and it’s official, I’m a transsexual,” he said.
“Yeah, I thought so. So what happens now?”
“I had another appointment today with the lady shrink, who specialises in such things, and we are going for a transition period, and they will give me small doses of oestrogens to change my body. I’m starting tomorrow.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“Nervous, but excited. By parents have been great, just as you said they would be. I wish I’d told them years ago.”
“Hey, you weren’t to know. Besides, they couldn’t do anything until you were over seventeen in any case,” I said.
“Yeah, I know that now. I just wanted to say thanks. I think I owe you a lot.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” I said.
“Emma, are you busy this weekend?”
“Some of it, why?”
“I was wondering if you would come and stay, if I’m to start being a girl, I’d like a real one to help me, and you are the only one I know.”
“Oh, Mark, that’s really sweet. Look, I am singing in a hall in Buckingham on Saturday night, I was going to stay here over the weekend, rather than go home. But if you like, why don’t I stay with you on Friday, and then you could come to the gig on Saturday, and then either back here, or to your place for Sunday?” I suggested.
“Oh, I don’t know about the gig. I don’t know if I’m ready to go out,” he said.
“Hey Mark, or have you decided on another name yet?”
“Not yet, everything is happening rather fast.”
“Well, we could do that, we could decide who you want to be for the rest of your life,” I said.
“I’d like that.”
“And, you can’t hide away for ever. Look, we don’t need to decide now, would you like to collect me from college on Friday, and we will see what happens on Saturday. If needs be, you could always stay backstage. There are only the five of us from here, and the band. It’s cool,” I said.
“Maybe, but I’ll pick you up at five on Friday, I’ll have my mum’s Polo.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”
“Bye, and Emma, thanks.”
I hung up. I called Steve and let him know the change of plans. I just told him a girl friend was in a bit of a jam and needed help. He was okay about it, making slobbery kissing noises down the phone at me. I laughed and hung up.
The next day was a busy day. We were rehearsing a short one-act play that we had all co-written. I was playing a wayward daughter who had got herself pregnant by the local vicar, and it was all set in her parent’s kitchen. It was rather too close to the Strongs for comfort, but I just tried to put myself in Caroline’s shoes, and the character just took off.
After lunch, we had a tap class, and I really loved tap dancing. Mark had always been good at tap, so I hoped they would let him, or her, come back.
At five o’clock, I was up in my room packing a small holdall, and Gwen appeared.
“Hi Gwen,” I said.
“I see young Mark has arrived. I’ve just had a word with him, and he told me you’re going to stay for the weekend. I think that’s really sweet of you. He needs contact with friends,” she said.
“Yeah, did he tell you why I’m going there?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s quite a moment for him. I know you’ll be kind to him. He needs to get into as normal a life as possible,” she said.
“I suggested he comes to the gig tomorrow night, he can stay behind the scenes, but I think he needs to get confidence and go out as often as he can.”
“I agree. But don’t throw him in the deep end, will you?”
“Not a chance,” I said, with a smile.
“Good girl. Have a lovely weekend, and good luck with the gig.”
“Thanks. We’ll need it,” I said.
“Nonsense. I have a couple of record producers interested, they may be at the back, so do your best,” she said, with a little smile.
“Really? Oh, thanks Gwen. That’s brilliant.”
“Keep it quiet, if the others hear about it they will go to pieces, but I thought you could tell them afterwards. Anyway, have fun, I wish I were your age again.”
“Thanks so much, Gwen,” I said, giving her a hug.
I left my stuff for the gig in my room, as I intended to come here first, and then go on to the hall, which was literally about five hundred yards down the road.
I had my holdall and two carrier bags. As I had scraped together a few bits and pieces from the girls and from the wardrobe department. I wanted to help Mark as much as I could. Then I went down to the car park.
Mark was sitting in his mothers blue VW Polo. I went over and opened the passenger door. I threw my bags in the back and got in.
He was wearing jeans and a jumper, but he looked a lot better than the last time I had seen him.
I kissed his cheek and said, “Hi, Markie. You’re looking good.”
He looked at me. I was wearing my suede outfit. I thought I’d try to look a little smart.
“You always look good, Emma. Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem. I want to.”
He set off, driving very carefully.
“When did you pass your test?” I asked.
“Just after Christmas. But I don’t get out and drive very much,” he admitted.
The Williams’ lived in a village called Eastcote, in Northamptonshire. It was about fifteen minutes from Buckingham.
Mark told me more about his parents’ reaction to his disclosure. There was a little resistance from his father to the seriousness of his condition, and not a little embarrassment. However, they had worked through it, and had contact with a support network. His mother was just relieved to have things cleared up, so just wanted whatever it took to make her child happy.
I felt glad for him. I would never have had any of that, perhaps that was why I was granted the miracle I had experienced. Who knows?
We arrived at his home, and it was lovely. It was a restored farmhouse, where the house incorporated the old barns and out buildings. It was L shaped and thatched. There was a high wall enclosing the missing L, to form a square yard. Another old outbuilding was now a triple garage, with a small apartment above it. The extensive gardens and orchards were on the south side of the property, and they even had a swimming pool.
“Mark, this is lovely. What does your dad do?” I asked.
“He is a corporate lawyer. He does pretty well,” he said, with a smile.
“I should say so. You have a super home.”
“Thanks.”
Mrs Williams came out to meet us, and she hugged me as if I was a long lost daughter.
“Thanks so much for coming, I think you are about the only friend that Mark has,” she said.
“Nonsense. He has a lot of friends at college, and they have all been asking after him,” I said.
That seemed to cheer them both up, and we went inside.
“Would you like a tea or coffee, Emma?” she asked.
“No thanks, but could I have a glass of milk, please, Mrs Williams?”
“Emma only drinks water or milk, Mummy,” said Mark.
“Emma, please call me Anne,” she said.
I nodded, “Thank you, Anne,” I said.
Mark had a cup of tea, and I drank my glass of milk.
“I understand that today is the big day,” I said, as the conversation reached an awkward pause.
Mark nodded, and Anne said, “Yes, the doctor thinks that Mark ought to begin trying to live as a girl, from now on. Apparently, if he can do it for a year, and the psychiatrist gives approval, then they recommend SRS.”
“I have already started hormone treatment, but it hasn’t started to effect me, yet,” he said, a little nervously.
“What do you say we get organised?” I said.
“How?”
“Well, step one is to put everything that is Mark into a box, and put it away. The day you get back from surgery, you can burn the whole lot. Then, step two, we make you into the person you feel you ought to be, and then, step three, tomorrow morning, we do some therapy,” I said.
“Therapy? That sounds a bit heavy,” said Anne, frowning.
“Shopping, it’s called retail therapy. I thought the three of us could see how your new daughter gets on.”
Anne laughed, and we agreed.
We all went up stairs to Mark’s room, and Anne found an old tea chest.
“That will never be big enough,” I said. “Have you a dozen black bags?”
Mark went and collected the bags.
We spent the next hour emptying his cupboards and drawers. Anne was reluctant to discard some stuff, but I was pretty ruthless.
“Everything from the old life must go. We can’t look back, only forward. Besides, if any second thoughts come up, the bags will still be in the attic,” I told them.
Finally, he only had the clothes he was standing in.
“Step four, on Sunday we redecorate. This is a boy’s room. We go for softer, brighter colours, and some nice sexy curtains,” I said, looking at the rather sombre dark blues and greys.
I went and collected my bags, and asked Anne to leave me with Mark for a while.
She nodded, and went to start supper.
Mark looked very nervous.
“Okay, Mark, get undressed,” I said. He did, and I turned away. I rummaged in the bags, and brought out a plain white bra, and a pair of knickers. I also had a couple of tubes of hair removing cream.
He was standing in his briefs. He was slim and narrow shouldered. He had grown slightly, and was a little taller than me, which made him about 5’7”. He had small feet and wasn’t very hairy.
I handed him the cream. “Spread this on your arms, legs and chest. Take it right down past the tummy button, just above your pubic hair,” I said.
He started to, and said, “Cor, it stinks.”
I laughed. I looked at his face; he was wispy, but no real beard. I rubbed some cream onto his face, and we waited for it to dry. He put on a dressing gown, no cord, I noticed.
“While we wait, what are you going to want to be called?” I asked.
He shrugged, “I hadn’t thought really. What do you think?”
“Well you could go for anything you like, or you could stay with your initials, and go for a first name like Mary, Marcia, Marsha, Mandy, Madeline, Melissa, Marion, Maryanne, or whatever. It really is up to you.”
While he was deciding, I went and ran a bath. Then he went and washed off all the cream, and most of his body hair went with it.
He came back wrapped in a towel, and sat on the bed. His hair was quite short, so I blow dried it, and backcombed it into a more feminine style, and put on some mousse.
“How about Marcia?” he said.
“Okay, Marcia sounds good to me, from now on you will be Marcia. Okay?”
“Yes. I think so.”
Then, I got out a box that Gwen had given to me, as she felt it might help. They were silicone breast forms, with special adhesive, that needed a resin release liquid to remove. I had Marcia lie on her back on the bed. I pasted the adhesive onto the back of the forms and located them directly above her nipples, so they were positioned in approximately the right place. She lay there for a few minutes, and I used some foundation cream to disguise the joins.
While she lay there, I applied a little foundation to her face, covering the little acne that she had. I then put eyeliner round her eyes, and mascara on her eyelashes, which were remarkably long. I put some light blue highlights above the eye on each lid, and just emphasised her eyebrows. She had fair skin, and light brown hair. I outlined her lips with a pencil, and then put on some lipstick. I gave her a touch of blusher on the cheekbones, and sat back and had a look.
The transformation was quite astounding. Mark had been a nice looking boy, nothing special, but Marcia was a striking girl. She would never be beautiful, as her mouth was a little too big, but her eyes were fantastic.
“Are those dry yet?” I asked. I tested the breasts, and they needed a few moments longer.
“Give me your hands,” I said.
I filed and shaped her nails, giving them a coat of plain pale pink varnish. I decided against red varnish, as it was probably too much too soon, and her father would have enough trouble coping with what I was doing in any case.
At last, her breasts were set, and she sat up.
She looked at her small, but very realistic breasts, and giggled, in a very feminine fashion.
“This is bizarre. They feel odd, but right. Do I make sense?” she asked.
“Yes, perfect sense. Now put this on,” I handed her the bra.
I didn’t even have to help her do it up properly, as she had obviously been practising with her mother’s clothes for some time.
I said, “Okay Marcia. This is the awkward bit. If you want me to leave, I will, but you need to push your balls up into your groin, and squeeze your willy between your legs.”
She smiled.
“I’ve been doing that for years.”
She took the white knickers, and put them on. I could not see any telltale bulge, and, apart from rather narrow hips, there was a girl standing in front of me.
I gave her a pair of tights, she slipped them on, and I passed her a pale green turtleneck top and a knee length dark skirt. I had her put the top outside the skirt, and gave her a wide belt to put round her waist. Then I gave her a selection of shoes, none with high heels. I had no idea what size she was, but she found some that fitted.
She stood in front of me, and gave a little twirl. I took her to her mother’s room, where there was a full-length mirror.
She stood, transfixed by her appearance.
“That, that isn’t me?” she said.
“Oh yes, it is.”
“But she’s a girl.”
“Yup, that’s you,” I said, smiling.
Slowly the girl smiled, until the smile threatened to cut her head in two.
“Shall we show your mum?” I suggested.
She nodded, reluctant to leave the mirror.
We went down stairs, and Marcia was suddenly afraid to confront her mother.
“Wait here,” I said. I went into the kitchen, and asked Anne to sit down for a moment.
Then, I called, “Marcia, you can come in now.”
Marcia came in, very shyly, and stood by the door. She looked great, and I would have had difficulty knowing that an unhappy boy called Mark was lurking out of sight.
“Anne, meet Marcia, your daughter,” I said, and held my hand to Marcia.
She took my hand, and I led her to face her mother.
Anne went very pale, and shook her head very slowly. She stood up, and the two embraced. Then, Anne held Marcia at arms length, and looked her up and down, still shaking her head in disbelief.
“You look wonderful. I can’t believe it. To think that underneath you’ve always been this lovely girl. How sad that it has taken this long,” Anne said. Marcia was almost in tears.
“Marcia, no crying, you will make your mascara run,” I said, with a laugh.
She laughed, and the moment was lost.
Anne turned to me.
“Oh Emma, thank you. You’ve done wonders,” she said.
“Not really, it was there all the time, I just helped her bring it to the surface,” I replied.
“How on earth did you manage to get her, you know, her breasts so lifelike?” Anne was clearly quite embarrassed.
“Gwen had some silicone breast forms, and they are literally stuck to her. They are the natural colour, and even have nipples,” I explained.
“I can see that. It is really odd.”
“As the hormones take effect, she should develop her own, and perhaps we can do away with them. In any case, she could always have implants to create the right size,” I said.
“You seem to know an awful lot about all this, how come?” Anne asked.
“I read up on it, I thought I needed to know a bit, so I could help,” I said.
There was the sound of a car in the drive.
“That’ll be Roger,” Anne said.
Marcia looked panicky.
“It’ll be fine. Anne you go and warn him, and we will just sit here as if it is the most normal thing in the world,” I said.
Anne got up, and I sat Marcia down at the kitchen table. I found a magazine of her mother’s, and opened it at random. It was a page on make up. I sat next to her, and we just looked like two teenaged girls looking at a girly magazine. Which is exactly what we were.
We heard voices in the hall, and eventually the door opened and Anne and Roger came in.
Anna sat down next to Marcia, and put her arm round her shoulder.
Roger stared at his new daughter, and swallowed.
“Hello Marcia. Emma, nice to see you again,” he said, I could see the strain on his face.
I stood up, “Hello Mr Williams. It is so nice to be here. Thanks for having me.”
He was staring at his daughter. Marcia looked at him from under her eyelashes.
“Hello Daddy. Emma has helped me a little,” she said.
He laughed.
“A little, she has worked a small miracle. Marcia, you look lovely. I am speechless. Now, Anne I need a drink, can I get anyone else one?” Roger said, and the ice was broken.
Roger held his arms open, and said, “Come here, my little girl,” And Marcia ran to him and they hugged. Anne sat and openly wept, and I confess that I felt somewhat emotional as well. It was a lovely moment.
I quietly left them to it, and went up to my room. I sat on the bed, and reflected on what had just happened. A loving family now surrounded Marcia, and whatever happened, she was safe. I wondered about my mother, and whether the arms of the law were going to ever reach her. Somehow, I doubted it, and felt that our showdown would come when Russell’s 21st birthday was due.
I unpacked my few clothes, and brushed my hair. I never heard Anne come in.
“Emma?” she said.
I spun round, startled.
“I’m sorry, I never heard you,” I said.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to say thank you. You have no idea how much you have helped. I had no idea where to start, I was pretty useless, I’m afraid,” she said.
“Don’t worry. It must be so hard for you all. I haven’t the attachment or the history. I enjoyed doing it. She looks wonderful, doesn’t she?” I asked.
“You called her she, should we do that?”
“Is there any doubt? If she is to succeed, she needs to live a normal life. This means that you and I have to teach her seventeen years worth of girly stuff in a few hours, and days. She must learn to stand, walk, sit, talk and live every minute as a woman. You and I do it naturally, but we need to watch and help her every step of the way.
“My boyfriend moans that I eat like a pig. I do. I take huge mouthfuls and I eat too much too quickly. I have nothing to prove, so if anything, he is attracted to me for being a bit different. Marcia is going to be hypersensitive to the way she looks, and as to how she thinks others will see her. Therefore, we have to be honest and encouraging. She'll get panicky over everything, but needs to gain in confidence as quickly as possible.”
“You mentioned her going to the concert you're singing in tomorrow, is that possible?” Anne asked.
“After seeing how she looks, her only problem will be keeping boys away. Seriously Anne, I think it's not only possible, but it's a way to build up her confidence. Five of us from college are going to be there. Once the girls accept her, then the next step of getting back into college will be easier. I know Gwen would support her, and think what a difference that would make?” I asked.
“I hadn’t dreamed of thinking that far ahead. I'm living each minute as it comes,” Anne admitted.
“Well, she has a hell of a struggle ahead. She just needs all the help she can get,” I said.
“Thanks, Emma, come on down, I think Roger has got over his shock now,” Anne said, smiling.
We went down to find Roger and Marcia talking together in the kitchen. Roger was looking more composed now, and he stood up as we entered, a glass of whisky in his hand.
“Emma, I’m sorry, I didn’t really greet you properly. I was sort of side-tracked. Hello, and thank you.” He came up to me and kissed me on the cheek.
I went and put my hand on Marcia’s shoulder.
“You’ve nothing to thank me for, she has always been there, only now she has been able to come into the open,” I said.
“Can I get you a drink? I’m getting wine for Anne and Marcia,” he asked.
“A glass of wine would be super, thanks,” I said.
Roger disappeared, so turning to Marcia, I said “Well, how was it?”
She smiled, “A bit strained to start with, but then he relaxed and we spoke to each other like nothing had changed, only he was more at ease than he's been for ages. For the first time, Emma, I think this actually might work,” she said.
I stood up and asked Anne if there was anything I could do to help. She had me shredding a cabbage and peeling some potatoes. Marcia peeled and chopped the carrots. Roger came in with the wine, took in the scene of domestic industry, and shook his head.
“Ladies, your wine,” he announced, giving us each a glass.
Then he raised his glass and said, “I should like to propose a toast to our daughter, Marcia, and may she truly find happiness.”
“To Marcia, and happiness,” I said, and we clinked glasses.
We spent a very jolly evening, but Roger managed to drink rather too much, but handled it well. Anne told me that he was the most relaxed he had been in a long time, but I noticed he kept looking at Marcia, when she wasn’t looking at him.
Marcia was relaxed and quite quiet. She smiled a lot, and I began to see feminine characteristics. She began to hold her hands and touch her face in a more lady-like way. She was very at home in her clothes, and it was strange to realise that this was her first time. Her walk was very graceful, and I remembered the dancer. Mark had always been graceful, and now I could see why.
Whereas Marcia was quiet, I was chatty. I was very aware of the strain the family had been under, and I probably talked too much.
I talked about the college, about Steve and the band, and our hopes for a recording contract. I talked a little about my fictitious past, but I worked on the principle, the less lies you tell, the less they can hang you by.
I found out a little about the Williams family. Stewart, the elder brother, was in America, at the Harvard business school. He had graduated with a 2.1 from Oxford, and was doing a business masters at Harvard. He was everything that Mark had not been, and in some small way, this contributed to Marcia’s levels of self-esteem and confidence. Siblings are always compared with each other, and poor Mark had never come up to his brother’s level.
After supper, I asked if I could phone Mike and Mary, just to let them know what was happening at the weekend. They knew I wasn’t coming home, but I thought they would like to know what was planned.
I rang the number, and Mike answered.
“Vicarage, hello?”
“Hi Mike, it’s Emma.”
“Em. How are you?”
“I’m good. I just wanted to tell you I’m staying with my friend Marcia, in Northamptonshire. She will be driving me to the gig tomorrow, and I will stay with her tomorrow night as well. Just so you know.”
“Thanks. We were wondering what you were up to. Is there a number there, in case?”
I told him the number of Marcia’s phone.
“How’s things with you and Mary?” I asked.
“Well, the weirdest thing happened. Do you remember Charles Gregson?”
“Didn’t I meet him at your house once?” I asked.
“Yes, he was the guy from the PCC, not a desperately nice man. Anyway, he and his family have sold up and gone, almost overnight. I got a letter from him, no explanation, just resigning from the PCC. Some personal matter, I understand. But he has donated £20,000 to the fund. That means the Diocese has to fork out £30,000. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“That’s great, but why did he do it?” I asked.
“I have no idea. He has left no forwarding address, they’ve moved to Cornwall, for some strange reason. I’ve asked about, and no one seems to know why,” he said.
“How odd,” I said, with my heart racing. Well, that’s what a guilty conscience does!
“Isn’t it? Anyway, Caroline has at last replied to our emails, and she has sent through photographs of the children. Mary is thrilled, and they have been writing reams and reams to each other. Last night, they spoke on the telephone for quite a long time. I think things are being patched up.”
“Good, I’m pleased for you. I have another gig in Milton Keynes on next Saturday, and another in Winslow again the Saturday after that. That will probably be the last, as Stephen is off to police training school the following week,” I said.
“That sound fun. You are quite fond of Stephen, aren’t you?”
“He’s nice, but I’m not going to do anything silly. So tell Mary to stop clucking,” I said, and he chuckled on the other end of the phone.
“Well, have fun, and let us know whether you want to come home next week. You know you are always welcome?”
“I know Mike, and thanks. I’ve got some news about you know who, but I’ll tell you when I see you both next.”
We rang off, and I was thrilled that my little ploy worked. I needed to make sure that the notebook was removed from circulation. I didn’t want it coming to light at the wrong moment.
It was nearly ten thirty, I was tired, and I knew that we had a full day ahead of us tomorrow.
I went and said good night, and Marcia said she would come up with me. I got a hug from Anne and from Roger. I felt a little awkward, as these people thought I was some sort of miracle worker.
We went up, and Marcia came into my room, and sat on my bed.
“This has been the happiest day of my life,” she said. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Oh you poor girl,” I said, and embraced her.
“I have never felt like this before, it is as if, suddenly there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I have a reason to live.”
“I’m pleased.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You could have done, but perhaps not so quickly,” I said.
“What I don’t understand is how you seem to understand me so well.”
“One day, I’ll tell you my story, and you will see why I understand better than you realise,” I said, still reluctant to tell her the truth.
“Will you pray for me?” she asked me.
“Sure, now?” I asked, surprised.
“Whenever. I can’t seem to know what to say.”
“Okay. Listen, Marcia, I don’t know much, but once, when I was at the bottom, I cried out, and my prayer was answered. I wasn’t specific, but the answer I got exceeded any expectations I had. To be honest, I didn’t expect an answer at all.”
“When were you at the bottom? You’ve got so much going for you. I always envied you. You were so confident, you weren’t afraid of anything, and everyone likes you. I wanted to be like you,” she said.
“You’ve only known me a few weeks. But all I can say, at the beginning of February, I was about as low as anyone can be. Dressing gown cord time. And I mean it,” I said, telling her more than I meant to.
“I don’t believe it, not you!” she said.
“Oh, Marcie. I wasn’t always like this. My miracle has made me the person you now know, and see. One day, when it is safe, I promise I will tell you everything, but for now, just trust me. The impossible became reality for me. So lets pray that the improbable can become your reality too.”
“You are so kind. But I know that you could never have been as low as that, you’ve made me feel better anyway, so please pray for me,” she said.
We sat together, I held her hand, and she shut her eyes. I watched her, and I tried to remember the feeling of desperation I felt when I cried out in my pain.
I felt a real fraud. A miracle had happened for me, and yet here was someone who was suffering as much, if not more that I had been. Yet, although I was convinced there was a God, I’m wasn’t certain that He (or She) had anything to do with my miracle.
“Oh God. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart and soul for what you have done for me. I ask that you look to my friend. She is just as much in need, just as desperate and hurts just as much as I did. I don’t know how you managed to do what you did for me, but I ask you now to do what needs to be done for my friend Marcia. You have always known who she was, deep down, and she has suffered so much. I know that the path she is now on has a goal, and an end of sorts, but grant this girl a miracle. Allow her to be as much a woman, just like her mother. Bless her and allow her to be the mother that could be her destiny. As much as surgeons are skilful, and the ways of man can bring her to a near replication of a woman, cut through all of that, and give her the blessing of womanhood, whole and complete. Just as Jesus brought wholeness and completeness to those who suffered all those centuries ago. Lord, please work a miracle here and in this house. Thank you. Amen,” I finished, not knowing what else I could say.
“Emma?”
“Mmm?”
“Are you telling me that you weren’t as beautiful as you are now?” Marcia looked confused. Fortunately, she had not grasped the depth of my miracle.
“Marcie, I promised I would tell you, and I will. Some miracles are on the outside and others on the inside. Telling you now won’t help either of us. But all I can say, my life is turned around. I have an obligation to help others now, and it is a wonderful obligation,” I said.
“Thanks Emma. I’ve certainly got piece of mind now, and I’ve never had that before,” she said.
“Look, Marcie. I’ll take those thingies off you now,” I said. Referring to her breast forms.
“No, I rather like them. Can’t I keep them tonight?” she asked.
“What happens if you grow your own in the night, two sets is just plain greedy,” I said.
She laughed, but then she saw I was serious.
“You really believe that that is possible?” she asked.
“Why not?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it myself.
“It doesn’t happen. Not like that. The hormones take a long time to build up,” she said.
“Doesn’t it?” I asked.
“All right, but have you enough adhesive for tomorrow?” she asked.
“Yes, but I am hoping we won’t need any.”
“Fat chance,” she said.
She took off her top and bra, exposing her false breasts. They were very lifelike, and I applied the liquid release. They fell off neatly, and I wiped them down and put them in the box. She went and had a wash, and put on a nightie her mother had set aside for her.
I gave her a hug.
“Listen. If it happens, don’t tell anyone, but come and wake me up?” I said.
“If what happens?” she asked.
“You will know,” I said, “Good night Marcie. Sweet dreams.”
She went to bed, a much happier person. I got ready for bed, and sat reading for a while. Then I turned out my light, and went to sleep very quickly.
It was pitch black, and something was violently shaking me. I forgot where I was, and was afraid. I struggle to wake up, and I reached for the light.
I sat up, Marcie was standing by my bed, and she was shaking.
“Marcie. What is the time?” I asked.
“How did you do it?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“You knew. You knew, didn’t you?”
“Marcie, what did I know?”
She lifted up her nightie, and there it was, or rather, there it wasn’t. Just as it had happened for me. She was now female, in fact, and reality.
“Sit down Marcie,” I said.
She wasn’t listening, and she was almost hysterically pleased.
“MARCIE!” I almost shouted.
She stopped and stared at me.
“Please, sit down,” I said.
She sat on my bed. I reached out, and held her hand.
“Marcia, you need to get real. You are now a woman, but certain responsibilities go with it. For starters, you must deal with this carefully, imagine the fuss if you go public, and the medics want to do hundreds of tests, and the press want photos of you showing your new boobs. It could turn into a circus. So, by all means enjoy your new life, but take care, it could turn into a nightmare,” I said.
It then dawned on her that all the doctors, surgeons, tests and hormones were no longer an issue. She grinned and hugged me. I felt something beneath her nightie.
“See, I told you that you would grow your own. You didn’t believe me, did you?” I asked.
She looked down her front and squealed with delight, she lifted it up to show me. Small, but perfectly formed, she had begun to grow her own breasts.
“They will get bigger in a couple of days. I can’t wait to see your mum’s expression,” I said.
“Emma, I think I know who you really are?” she said, and I had a sudden lurch of panic. How could she have guessed?
“Oh yes?” I said, my heart thumping.
“I should have guessed. You arrived so suddenly, you are so beautiful, you are brilliant at everything, you love everyone, and everyone loves you. You know exactly what is going to happen, and it is so obvious,” she said.
This was a little unexpected, and I now had no idea where she was going with this.
“Go on.”
“Now I know why you have no family, no roots and no past. It is because you haven’t got one, have you?” She asked.
“Marcie, I love you dearly, but I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said, thoroughly confused.
“What was your father’s first name?” she asked, out of the blue.
I had to think, I couldn’t remember what was on the birth certificate, then it came to me.
“John, why?”
“Too slow! What was your mother’s maiden name?”
“Smith. Look Marcie, what are you getting at?” I asked.
“Smith, yeah. Like, I really believe that. Look, you can trust me, and I promise I won’t tell anyone. Besides who would believe me?” she said.
“Marcie, for the love of God, what are you talking about?” I said.
“See. I knew it. You were sent weren’t you?”
“Marcie, if you don’t tell me what you are on about, I will get seriously pissed off,” I said.
“Oh, Emma, I know that you are an angel. Nothing you can say can convince me of anything else. It is the only thing that makes any sense.”
I burst out laughing, and I can remember when I laughed so much. I sat on the floor and laughed until I almost wet myself.
Marcie looked at me, looking worried, then doubtful, and the she smiled.
“Brilliant. That is the best way to deal with the truth. Well, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she said.
“Oh, Marcie. You’ve got me all wrong. I am anything but an angel,” I said, wiping the tears away from my eyes.
“Oh yes, you are.”
“No, honestly, I’m not.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
“I can’t, not yet.”
“See, you are!” she said.
“Oh, bollocks. Believe what you want. I can see I am not going to convince you anyway,” I said.
“Oh, I’m convinced,” she said. I hit her with my pillow.
She was positively bouncy, but I had to send her back to her room. I had a really busy day planned, and I needed my sleep. I looked at my clock, four a.m., now was that familiar or what?
Marcie couldn’t leave me asleep for long, and she bounced me out of bed at seven o’clock.
“Did you go back to sleep at all?” I asked her grumpily.
“No, I’m far to excited for that. I’m a girl!”
“Yes dear, so am I and I’m bloody knackered,” I said.
I had to examine her boobs, and I had to agree, they had grown a little in the three and a half hours since I had last seen them. Moreover, yes, her hips were wider and her waist was slimmer. It was a case of déjá vu.
I went and had a shower, in the rather vain hope I would feel refreshed and a bit more alive. It did work, a bit.
I then dressed, and went to Marcia’s room. She was parading naked in front her mirror. I remembered what I felt like, and the environment I found myself at the time. She was incredibly lucky to be in a home where she would be accepted and loved.
I managed to persuade her to get dressed, and I helped her with her makeup. We were both downstairs a little after eight.
Anne was surprised to see us, and Roger was still fast asleep. We had some breakfast, and Marcia was so excited, that Anne eventually asked, “All right, what the hell has made you so wonderfully happy all of a sudden?”
“I’m a girl, Mummy,” she said.
“Yes, I know, dear.” Anne said, patiently.
“No, you don’t understand. I really am a girl. I don’t know how, but I am not a male anymore. I have got girl’s bits, and these are my own, they aren’t rubber,” she said, holding her hands under her breasts.
Anne looked at her, with rather a sad expression.
“Anne, she is right. Something happened in the night. She is a woman now, just like you, and just like me,” I said. “I should know, as she woke me up at four o’clock to show me.”
Anne just looked at me, and then at Marcia. I could tell that she thought that we were playing a trick on her.
“Oh, you are going to have to show her Marcie,” I said, and poured myself a glass of milk.
Marcia simply dropped her knickers and tights, and lifted her skirt.
Anne put her hand to her mouth, and sank into the chair I placed behind her.
“Oh, dear God!” she said.
“Pull them up Marcie, I think she has seen enough,” I suggested.
Marcie pulled her knickers and tights back up, and smoothed her skirt down.
Anne was very pale. She looked at me, “How?” she said.
“Anne, I honestly don’t know. When she went to bed she was Mark, and at four she woke me up and she was most definitely Marcia,” I said.
“I don’t understand. It’s impossible!” she said.
“Anne, if it happened it must be possible. The important thing is not to panic, and not to screw up Marcia’s life. What you have to do is find a sympathetic doctor, and just persuade him or her that Mark must have been a girl all along, and developed late into a normal female. If you make her into some special case, she will be a guinea pig for the medical profession, and she will become a modern day side show freak,” I said, quite heatedly. I had had time to think about this.
Anne nodded, vacantly.
“Right, we have some shopping to do. It will do us all a lot of good. It is best we keep Roger out of the loop, he will only panic and screw it all up,” I said.
Anne nodded, again, still vacantly.
“Come on Anne, you have to drive, as Marcia only has a drivers licence as a male, and no copper would believe what has just happened,” I said. Marcia went and got her bag, and I picked up mine, and put on my coat. Anne was still in shock.
“Oh hell. Marcia, drive, and for pities sake don’t get stopped,” I said. I got Anne into the front passenger seat and jumped into the back. Marcia brought her mother’s handbag, and got in the drivers seat. We were off.
I took Marcia and Anne straight to see Pam. She was pleased to see me, and we chatted about trivial things. I arranged for her to do a makeover for Marcie, and Anne and I went to the coffee shop.
I bought Anne a strong black coffee, and she was coming out of her shock.
“Emma, have I just been dreaming, or did I really see what I think I have?” she asked.
“It was no dream, Anne. You have a real daughter now. It’s what’s called a miracle,” I said.
She looked at me, in a very strange way. I began to feel uneasy, again. What was it with these people?
“You have no parents, they died, Mark, no Marcia, told me?” She asked.
“Yes, in a car crash in Uganda,” I said.
“So you have no family at all, here in England?”
“No, why?” I asked. I had just been here with Marcia, not Anne too?
“Marcia also said that you live with a vicar and his wife, not far from Buckingham?”
“That’s right. Anne, where is this leading?” I asked.
“I know what you are. Oh my God. I never believed, and you’ve been sent to us. I prayed and prayed, all through the pain and troubles, and He sent you! I won’t tell anyone, I promise. How long are you here for?” she said.
I was seriously worried now, as she had clearly flipped as badly as her daughter.
“Anne, take a step back, please. Who, or what, do you think I am?” I asked, dreading the answer.
She looked around, in a conspiratorial manner. She leaned across the table, and whispered.
“You’re an angel. I should have believed. Can you forgive me?” she said.
I smiled, if I had burst out laughing, that would have hurt her.
“Oh Anne. I am not an angel. I promise. Look, I had the curse a week or so ago, would an angel bleed?” I said.
“If you wanted to appear human, you would do anything a human would do,” she said.
“Like mother - like daughter. Oh, Anne, what is it with you two? I had the same silly conversation with Marcie in the middle of the night, and I can tell you I’m not impressed,” I said, getting quite cross now.
“So she can see it too. Well, I promise we won’t tell anyone,” she said.
“Oh, Anne, I am no bloody angel.” I said.
She just smiled. I gave up, they were convinced, and there was nothing I could do about it.
She finished her coffee, and we went and picked up a completely different Marcia. She had bought the £15 worth of cosmetics, and Pam was pleased, and promised to come to the gig that evening
Marcia was vivacious, and so out-going, it was difficult to imagine she was the same person as yesterday. She had her ears pierced at the same place I had mine done, and then we spent several hours shopping for clothes.
Unlike yours truly, Marcia had access to a lot of money, and she was very generous. She insisted on buying me several skirts and tops, and three pairs of sexy shoes, that I could use on stage. One was a long pair of shiny black boots, which came up above the knees, and had 4” heels. The others were black shoes, one just had high heels, and the other had sexy lacing up the ankle as well.
She also bought me a pair of black leather hot pants, and a leather top to match. Everything I had, she bought similar for herself. The last task was to have her hair done. She had it cut, as I had done, quite short, so that it would grow back nicely.
Anne had relaxed now, and was looking more as if she was on planet earth. She and Marcia kept giving each other knowing smiles, and I felt very amused, but somewhat frustrated.
We got back to their home at noon, and had a quick bite to eat. Roger had gone to play golf, and that was definitely a blessing. I had to get back to Buckingham to help set up, and I suggested Marcia come too. There was no holding her back. She suggested that she do a bit of backing dance for the band, and I just shrugged. It wasn’t up to me.
She and I grabbed some of the clothes we had bought, said goodbye to Anne, and she drove, very carefully, to the college. I went up to my room, and Marcia came too, Sheri and the others were all getting their stuff together.
I was just finishing putting my stuff in a bag, when Sheri popped in.
“Hi Emma, nearly ready?” she asked, and then saw Marcia.
“Hi Sheri, yeah I’m ready. You remember Marcia?” I said.
“Marcia, no. Hi Marcia,” she said, frowning.
“Hi Sheri. You probably don’t recognise me. I used to be called Mark,” she said.
Sheri’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and no sound was forthcoming.
“No flies today?” I asked.
Sheri looked at me, and then at Marcia, who was wearing a low cut top, showing her cleavage in all its glory.
“Emma, what the hell is going on?” Sheri asked.
“It seems that Mark has always been a Marcia, but had a funny condition that masked the truth. It seems that a build up of female hormones kicked in and she is the person you now see before you. That is why she had to leave. It has all been a bit of a shock to the family,” I explained.
Sheri bought it, hook, line and sinker.
She hugged Marcia, and said, “You look really good. Are you okay?”
“I’m brilliant. Its like an angel has worked a miracle,” she said, winking at me. I groaned and rolled my eyes heavenward.
Sheri was out into the corridor, and spread the news in no time. In a matter of minutes there were about ten people in my room, all trying to speak at once.
“Oi!” I yelled. The noise level came down a little.
“Listen. Please don’t talk about this; we don’t want to upset Gwen by getting the media involved. Marcie just wants to get on and live her life. Please give us a little space,” I asked.
Gradually, they left, one by one, each giving Marcia a hug, and being amazingly supportive. Finally, we were alone again, and Gwen was standing by the door. She looked at Marcia, and then at me.
“Emma, I would be obliged if you could give me an explanation as to what has happened,” she said.
“Gwen, I don’t really know, but Marcia, who used to be Mark, has experienced a gender transformation, and is now a normal female. I’m not a doctor, but I think, underneath it all she was always female. There is probably a word for the condition, but I don’t know. I think she would like to come back to college,” I said.
Gwen looked at me, then at Marcia, who was looking rather nervous.
The older woman smiled, and took Marcia by the hand.
“You look so much better, and I am pleased that you are sorted. I will call your parents, and we will discuss your return. But I need to know that the press won’t be bothering us,” she said.
“Oh Gwen, I want to come back. All my friends are here. I hope that the press don’t get hold of this,” Marcia said.
“Good. I’ll ring them this afternoon. You had better get down to the hall. I will see you later, Emma,” she turned and walked out.
Twenty minutes later, we were in the hall, and found Steve and the boys already setting up. The other girls were there, and the atmosphere was exciting. I introduced Marcia to the guys as a dancer, who would give us some extra colour. She had the most amazing long legs, and I could see that they had no problem with that.
We rehearsed the whole list, and in particular, the numbers we had recorded. Marcia just stood next to the backing singers and watched, and then, as the rehearsal moved along, she began to dance quietly off to the side. The Hall’s stage was a prefabricated one, made out of large wooden box like structures. Scaffold poles held up the curtain, and one of these was visible to the left of the stage.
Marcia danced her own pole routine, and at one point the music almost was stopped altogether as the band were distracted by her incredibly sexy pole-dance routine.
We changed into our costumes, I went over the top a bit with the makeup, and was quite heavy with the black around the eyes. I had a lot of silver on the eyelids, with brilliant orange as well. I put the black hot pants and leather top on, with the boots; it brought a few gasps from the other girls. I walked out into the hall, and Steve took one look at me, and started dribbling.
“Fucking Hell, Emma,” he said.
“Thank you so much. A girl really knows when she is appreciated,” I said.
He put his guitar down and came over to me, and put his arms around me.
“You don’t know what you do to me.”
“I know exactly what I do to you. Cool it, I’ve just put my makeup on, and I don’t want it smudged,” I said.
“I promise, what I want to do to you does not involve your face.”
I hit him.
“Down. Ground rule number one. Remember?” I said.
“But I’ll go blind,” he said, rubbing his arm.
“Good,” I said, grinning.
Marcia walked out, and she was dressed in the same way as I, except she had fishnet tights and stiletto shoes. She looked absolutely stunning. She was very slim and very tall, those legs of hers went on forever, and the hot pants left very little to the imagination. There was absolutely no doubt as to her gender now. Steve whistled, so I hit him again, and he grinned and rubbed his arm.
The other girls were all in black, and either in mini skirts or hot pants. We all agreed that we looked hot.
We pulled the curtains back, and waited for the hall to fill up. It was about the same size as Winslow, and there had been many enquiries. The organisers told us it was a sell out, and they were starting to turn people away.
We took our places, and all light was kept out. The curtains were drawn, and I started the first number, still in the dark. The first two lines were slow and sexy, and then it went up-tempo as the band came in with a heavy rhythm, and the lights came up.
As the crowd saw me, there was a roar and a surge forward. As the other girls were lit up, the roar got louder. Marcia was dancing, and some intelligent soul put a spot onto her. The noise of the crowd drowned out the first number.
There was no looking back. We all gave it our best, and I was as raunchy as I could. However, the real star was our new dancer, who captivated many male hearts that night.
Our two songs went down really well, and I began to believe that we could make something from them. I really enjoyed doing the routines with the backing group, and we managed to get several roars from the crowd with some of the sexier stuff.
After six curtain calls, we were ready to drop, but the band launched into a raunchy tune, that would suit a strip show. All the lights were out, except one spot, and Marcia managed to captivate everyone for three minutes with the most sensuous dance I had ever seen. She managed to do things around a scaffold pole that defied reason.
When she finished, and gracefully curled up on the stage, the applause was absolutely deafening,
After the show, we all relaxed, the girls had thoroughly enjoyed their work, and here was still a buzz in the air. The guys were on cloud nine. They had never been so well received before, and even though they were aware that the female additions had helped, everyone was grinning.
The organiser came backstage, and he took Steve to one side to pay him his cut. Two youngish guys came through, and one of the bouncers went to stop them.
“We are from Polymorph Records, we were asked by their agent to come,” the taller one said.
The bouncer looked at Steve, who grinned and waved for them to come through.
I wandered over and was standing next to Steve when they introduced themselves. There was talk of a recording contract, and all manner of things, few of which I understood.
Steve’s expression displayed similar ignorance, and I suggested that we continue the conversation with our agent present. The rather smooth tall guy, Rob Grierson, seemed a little put out that we were being cautious, but I stuck to my guns, and gave him Gwen’s phone number.
One factor that became apparent, any contract was dependant upon the group and all the girls working together.
Comments
Please Sir, I want MORE!
Lovely story, am enjoying it. Can't wait to see the rest...
Some days you're the pigeon, some days you're the statue
Tanya's stories are posted on other sites
Tanya's stories are among my favorites.
If you want to read ahead, Tanya has the complete story along with others posted at other sites.
See them here:
Sapphire's place
Maddy Bell's site
--Brandon Young
--Brandon Young
AN OUTSTANDING STORY
Although I have read this elsewhere I am thorouhly enjoying it again. Your word crafing is excellent. Your characters are amazing. The tale has a wonderful flow. I shall always look forward to your postings. a fan forever, 'Sika
Well, maybe Emma is an Angel
Well, maybe Emma is an Angel without her knowing it. She does have a knack for helping others who need it desperately. These chapters are a joy to read. J-Lynn
read it before but
Still a pleasure to read again. Glad to see these books presented on what's currently the most active site.
Enjoyable suspension of reality.
This is a really happy tale. Thank you.
By the way, what does "Cor" mean?
Many Blessings
Gwendolyn
Cor..
An expression of surprise.
http://www.peevish.co.uk/slang/c.htm
PB
Cor!
Me thinks I want more too!! What a tale you've got going here. This is just a whole lot of fun!
Hugs
grover
Marcie,s dad
I'm wondering if Marcie's dad is Emma's dad attorney?
RAMI
LOL
Angels exist, you just have to find them. Or let them find you.
Beautiful story
Have fun with life, it's too short to take seriously
Always
Barb
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl