Weird Wednesday Chapters 16 - 20

Weird Wednesday
by Tanya Allan

Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply.

On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it?

Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all.

No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered...

but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

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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. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.

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.

Chapter 16

It was quite spectacular, a huge arc of blue electricity leaped across the frame, with sparks and a familiar smell of burning plastic. The lights in the unit went out and they were plunged into darkness.

Linda gasped, rushing forward to help. Her uncle held her back, flipping the switch to the off position. He went to the fuse box and returned the trip switch to the on position. The lights came on.

“Uncle Ray, you are the limit! Honestly, have you any idea what you’ve done at all?”

They went forward and to their relief found the pair in the contraption still alive. Neither was conscious and Lucy managed to help her uncle to remove them and place them in the recovery position on the mat he’d brought along especially.

The woman started stirring first. Linda went to her side and checked her over. She opened her eyes, blinking and then looked around. She looked at the still form of the boy next to her and gasped.

“Oh my God!” she said, and lay back with her eyes closed.

“Bugger!” said the professor.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know if it worked!” he said, rather upset.

“Uncle Ray, what they hell are you doing?”

“Later, Linda dear, I’ll tell you later!”

The boy started to move and, much to Linda’s alarm, the movement turned into twitching, until she believed he was having a fit. He started to writhe and moan, his body contorting into strange positions. Suddenly he started to shudder and assumed a foetal position and lying very still.

“What have you done?” she asked, looking up at her uncle.

“Nothing. If anything happened, she’s responsible for it all herself!”

“How can she be, she’s over there and unconscious as well,” she said indicating the still form of Nessa.

“No, Linda, you misunderstand. It’s her doing!” he said pointing at the boy.

Linda stared at her uncle, shaking her head.

“Are you totally potty, he’s a him, Uncle, not a her!”

“Examine him then and tell me what you find.”

Linda bent over the still form and checked his pulse. It was normal, as was his pupil reaction. As she was checking his eyes, she realised that he was awake.

“Hello, how are you feeling?” she asked, feeling a fool.

The boy stared at her and then turned towards the Professor.

“Well?” the older man asked.

The boy raised a hand and touched his face, moving the hand down to his chest. From there, he pushed the hand down the front of his jeans. He stopped and withdrew his hand. Linda was baffled as the teenager started to cry.

Linda was initially quite concerned, but then realised that the tears were not of sadness, for a huge smile broke through the tears. Linda opened the shirt to check respiration and heart and after a brief examination, she turned to her uncle with a strange expression on her face.

“How?” she asked.

“It worked?” asked the old professor.

The girl on the mat nodded, her tears mingling with laughter of pure joy. She buttoned up her shirt again, concealing her small but very real breasts from view.

“Excellent! I thought it might. Let’s check on your mother.”

“Uncle, what the hell have you just done?”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, mother and brand-new daughter were seated at a table drinking hot sweet tea. Simone (pronounced See-moan-ey) was wearing a beatific smile that warmed the old professor’s heart.

Linda was trying to get her head around her uncle’s explanation of the mind-blowing event she had just witnessed. He kept chuckling and writing notes in his large handwritten journal.

Vanessa was still in a daze. She was back and felt enormous relief. However, that relief mingled with a sense of confusion and trepidation, as she realised that Simon had managed to alter the process to an alarming result.

She looked at her daughter, for Linda confirmed beyond all doubt that Simone was now one hundred percent female.

The girl retained the same slim figure, now subtly altered, with a narrower waist and slightly broader hips. It was the budding breasts that swelled beneath her shirt, and the jewel that nestled softly between her legs.

“What the hell do we do now?” Vanessa asked.

“I had a genetic disorder. I was inter-sexed and the stress of the divorce aggravated the situation, causing me to start developing female secondary sexual characteristics. We need medical professionals to accredit that fact, and then apply for changes to my records. I read up on the process on the internet.”

“Simon, what about school, this has far-reaching affects!” her mother said.

“Mum, it’s Simone, not Simon!”

“You planned this, both of you, didn’t you?” Vanessa asked, quite heatedly.

“Not so much planned and theorised it could be done. I went from the basic assumption that the physical conditions were simply an amplifier for the real power, the human brain. If the will should dictate the terms of transfer or indeed, the terms of change, then the will was the deciding factor. I simply suggested to your daughter that if at the moment of contact, she clearly frame her inner most desires, then it was reasonable to assume that they would be granted.”

“You really wanted to be a girl that much?” Vanessa asked her daughter.

Simone simply grinned and nodded.

“Uncle Ray, do you realise what you’ve just managed to do here?”

“Oh yes, dear.”

“This could be worth a fortune!”

Raymond turned and looked at the young girl whose smile warmed the innermost sanctum of his soul.

“No Linda.”

“What?”

“I said, no. This is something I shall keep working on. Once I perfect it, then and only then shall I consider placing it into the public domain. This little experiment will be recorded and filed. These people have been through enough without experiencing the media circus that would be created if we go public now.”

“Think of all the people you could help! I have dozens coming to the clinic each week, for this would be a godsend.”

“I am. Linda, you can’t change the world all at once. I have to do it a bit at a time, and only those whom I feel are worthy. Will you help me?”

Linda looked at the Heath Robinson-like contraption, and then at Vanessa and her daughter.

“Yes, Uncle Ray, I think I shall.”

Vanessa and Simone were talking. Vanessa gasped and gasped again when Simone told her that Howard had proposed.

“What did you do?” she asked.

Simone giggled.

“Nothing, and that’s the truth. I wanted to Mum, I really wanted to, but didn’t. You can thank the curse for that, but it was close.”

“What do I do?” Vanessa asked.

“Take it one day at a time. He’s actually a lovely sweet man, and he loves you very much.”

“No, he loves you. Nes… Hell! Simone. He doesn’t know I exist!”

“You aren’t half an arse, Mum. He doesn’t know we swapped. He thinks I have a gender problem, and may turn out to be a girl.”

“How the hell did he get that idea?”

“Um, I might have told him,” Simone said, with an innocent expression.

“Why?”

“Because I knew that I wanted to be a girl. The professor told me it might be possible. Ian is falling in love with me, and I wanted to make the whole transition easier!”

Vanessa stared at her daughter.

“This is too much!” she said.

“Mrs Williamson. Might I suggest you take young Simone out and get her some more appropriate clothes?” the Professor said.

Vanessa looked at Simone’s jeans and rugby shirt. They looked quite fetching, and she did look pretty, but the girl’s smile told her she wanted to change as soon as she could.

Linda handed Vanessa a sealed envelope.

“Mrs Williamson. I have taken the liberty of writing a detailed report concerning your daughter’s possible condition. There is no doubt that she is a fully normal girl, so please use this report to effect the necessary legal changes to official records such as birth certificates and suchlike. And let me wish you both all the very best of luck.”

Vanessa and Simone hugged Lucy and her uncle, before heading back to the car.

“My turn to drive, thank God!” said Vanessa with a smile.

* * *

They arrived back late. It was nearly eight o’clock and the house was in darkness. Vanessa put the car away as Simone opened up the house. Vanessa looked at the tall slender girl in the new skirt and pretty top. Simon had been a good-looking boy, but as a girl, she was stunning and was still only thirteen!

By the time Vanessa came in, the fire was on, and she could hear Simone in the kitchen.

“Omelettes okay, Mum?” the girl shouted.

“Lovely.”

She put down her bag and looked at her reflection in the hall mirror.

Nessa had looked after her well. The makeup was very good, and she had a keen dress sense. She brushed her hair and the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Nessa, it’s Howard. I was wondering how you got on with the specialist.”

Simone came out of the kitchen and Vanessa let her listen in on the same receiver. Simone cupped her hands and whispered something to her mother. Vanessa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Hello Howard. It was difficult. As I mentioned to you before, Simon isn’t, um, well, Simon is… I’m sorry; this is so hard to explain. The son I had is now a daughter. Her condition was as they suspected, she has been a girl all along. It seems that the stress of the divorce and everything else has triggered her hormones to start working. I shall have to take her out of school, as I probably mentioned. The financial implications are also a valid reason for that step.”

“Have you thought any further on my proposal?” he asked. Simone whispered something else to her. She glared at her daughter who started to get the giggles.

“Oh Howard. I can’t answer that now. I have nothing further to add since we last spoke. This is not a good time, why don’t you and Ian come over to lunch on Sunday?”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, and I’d ask you to be gentle to Simone.”

“Simone?”

“Yes.”

“My God, this is so strange. You poor things. If you’d rather, we could make it another time?”

“No, it’s best to face things out. I’d like to ask your advice on selling the house, as well.”

“Sunday then, noon?”

“Noon’s fine.”

“Bye.”

“Well done, Mum, that was excellent!”

“You’re a tart!”

Simone giggled.

“What about you and Ian? And you were a boy!”

“That’s different, I didn’t do anything.”

“He’s hunky too though. He’s like a younger edition of his dad.”

“This time, young lady, you will behave. You’re only thirteen, don’t forget it.”

“Thirteen going on thirty-five!”

They sat down and had a long chat. In fact, they had been talking all day, bringing each other up to speed on their particular lives and everything that had happened.

Vanessa had got off the world for a brief moment and was actually feeling so much better. Now she was back as herself, she found that Nessa had not only coped, but had assisted in the closure of many aspects that had been worrying her.

“Money is the biggest problem we have. I think we’ll have to sell the house and buy something smaller. I’ll have to go back to work as soon as I can.”

“Marry Howard, Mum, he’s loaded and we can relax.”

“No, that isn’t an option.”

“Spoilsport. I’ve softened him up for you.”

“Simone, if I chose to marry someone, it’ll be because I love them. I’m not that keen to go down that road again so soon after Richard…”

She broke off, as the reality of Richard’s death seemed to finally sink in.

“I forgot for a moment. It seems unreal,” Vanessa said.

The phone rang for the second time. Simone answered it.

“No, you want my mum, hang on.”

Simone pressed the privacy switch.

“Mum, it’s Superintendent Harris. I told you about him, remember?”

“I think so. What do I say?”

“As little as possible. I’ll prompt you.”

Vanessa took the phone, with Simone listening close.

“Hello?”

“Mrs Williamson. We need to meet, are you going to be in this evening?”

“Yes, why?”

“Are you alone?”

“Apart from my daughter, yes.”

“Daughter? I thought you had a son.”

“It’s a complicated story. I have a daughter called Simone.”

“But you will be there in about an hour?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m coming over. I have some news for you. Don’t be alarmed, it is good news, I promise.”

He terminated the call.

Mother and daughter looked at each other.

“Could Dad be still alive?”

“I don’t think so. What else could it be?”

“Money, perhaps we get some reward money?”

“I don’t know, does it work that fast?” Vanessa asked. Simone shrugged.

Vanessa looked at her daughter. They were the same height, and although Simone had short hair, her newly acquired makeup and short skirt made her look very attractive. She was very like her mother, lacking the maturity, but with that added youthful exuberance. Her nails were varnished and she looked like a clone of her mother in the way she stood, moved and spoke.

“What happened to those omelettes?”

“Shit!” the younger girl said, running back to the kitchen.

* * *

Ted Harris was confused. Mrs Williamson was a delightful lady, but he sincerely believed that she had a son called Simon. Certainly, Richard had been of the same opinion, but that was academic now.

As he drove out towards Oxfordshire, he thought back to the operation that was now in the final stages.

Eddie McDonagh had been charged with conspiracy to murder, eight counts of false accounting, twelve years worth of tax evasion of sums ranging from twelve million to thirty million, blackmail, extortion and several related offences that he wished to be taken into consideration. Thanks to the documents handed over by the Williamsons, assets in UK and off shore accounts worth over one hundred million pounds had been seized.

The Magistrates court remanded Eddie to the Central Criminal Court and he was awaiting trial in Belmarsh Prison. High-level negotiations with Home Office and Foreign Office officials allowed for the official death certificate being issued in respect of one Richard Williamson. A New Zealand Passport was issued in the name of Richard Clark, and with the approval of the Director of Public Prosecutions and the Attorney General, the holder of the passport was on his way to New Zealand at this very moment.

Richard Clarke had to sign an agreement never to return to the United Kingdom. In addition, no contact was to be made with any existing family or friends in the UK, directly or indirectly. Any breach of these conditions would leave him liable to prosecution for offences that were set aside. They would also seek repayment of a sum of two hundred thousand pounds, given for services rendered to the authorities in the McDonagh case.

He wrote a letter addressed to Vanessa and Simon. He dated it the day before his ‘death’. Edward Harris agreed to deliver it as he saw the man onto the plane.

“Words can’t express my sorrow at what I’ve done to my family. Tell them that, and that I still love them. I know I’ll never see them again, but perhaps this is for the best.”

He shook Ted’s hand and left Britain, never to return. He’d managed to contact Susannah, tell her he was returning with sufficient funds to give them a healthy boost. Her father wanted her to return to the UK, but she promised to wait for him.

The witness protection programme was not as highly publicised as in the United States and some other countries. However, as the case against Eddie grew, those in authority reconciled Richard’s personal courage and positive contribution against his earlier naíve greed and momentary weakness.

As he watched Britain diminish, he hoped and prayed he was in time to repair things with Susannah. His main regret was that he would never see his son reach maturity.

This was perhaps just as well, for at that exact moment, his son, now his daughter, was dishing up an omelette for herself and her mother. A casual observer would be excused for not realising that Simone was the same person as Simon, for in the transition, Simone had gained a glow and zest for life that Simon had seemingly lacked. The physical changes, although profound enough were, for the most part, hidden from view. However, the emotional and mental changes made her positively glow with contentment. There was nothing the remotest masculine about Simone, and even her hair, now cut in a chic style, was as feminine as the rest of her.

They had just finished washing up when the Superintendent arrived. Vanessa let him in and he shook her by the hand, after she took his coat and hung it on the mule post at the bottom of the stairs.

She led him through to the kitchen, and found Simone was putting the kettle on in anticipation. Ted looked at the pretty teen and frowned.

“I could have sworn that you had a son, Mrs Williamson.”

Vanessa went and stood behind Simone, resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“It’s complicated. Our child, Simon, was identified as being male at birth. However, recent, um, complications indicated a deep-seated problem relating to hormone levels and a confused gender condition. It seems that our son was never a son, but due to slight physical deformities, was wrongly sexed at birth, and now puberty is hitting, she is developing normally as a girl.

“I had to take her away from her school and see a specialist, and now she’s been given a clean bill of health. The other complications relate to schooling. Simone was at an all-boy boarding school, so that is now impossible to continue.”

“Did your ex-husband have any idea?”

“None. It came to light in the last three or four weeks. What with everything else, it wasn’t something I was prepared to talk to him about. I’ll never get the chance now, will I?”

The policeman looked at the pretty teen, whose cheeks dimpled delightfully when she smiled.

“It’s a wonder they couldn’t tell the difference, she looks like a younger version of you, Mrs Williamson,” he said, and both laughed at the compliment.

“Anyhow, I’m happy that this matter is resolved for you. I come with two tasks. The first is to deliver a letter written by your late-ex-husband, Mrs Williamson. He wrote it a few hours before he met his untimely end.”

He handed Vanessa an envelope. She took it, opened it and immediately recognised the handwriting.

“I’m very sorry, Mrs Williamson,” the policeman said.

Vanessa read:

Mr Darling Vanessa,

     I hope you’ll excuse me calling you that. For now, too late and with the benefit of hindsight, I actually realise what a complete and utter fool I’ve been.

     I am writing this because I now know that it is likely that I may never see you or Simon again. With all that we’ve been through, I feel ashamed that I have failed as a husband and as a father. I never set out to hurt you both, and realise now that my selfish actions did just that. I wasn’t thinking straight, but I don’t wish to make excuses. I accept the consequences of my actions, and just feel so sorry that I forced things on you that you didn’t deserve.

     I have turned Queen’s evidence, and have asked that if any reward comes from the information we provided, then you could receive substantial remuneration that will ease your financial burdens with which I left you.

     The fact we shall not grow old together saddens me, but that’s life! The fact, I shall never see Simon play rugger for England, nor see him meet a girl and get married, saddens me also. Ask him not to hate me or my memory too long. Rest assured, wherever I end up, I shall watch from a distance, if at all possible.

‘Sorry’ is a word that doesn’t impart a fraction of what I feel now. It is with sadness that I say farewell, and I sincerely hope you meet a man who will love you and be everything I’m not!

Your loving EX

Richard

“Damn!” said Vanessa, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She handed the letter to her daughter. Simone read it and she too cried.

Ted Harris waited patiently for them to gather themselves.

Vanessa crossed the kitchen and picked up a box of tissues. She took one out of the box, gave it to Simone and they both blew their noses and wiped they eyes. As Ted watched, the two women went through an almost identical range of movements.

“You said two tasks, Superintendent. May we know the second?” Simoné said.

Ted frowned. He knew this young girl was thirteen, but she looked, sounded and acted far more mature than he expected a girl of her years.

“Quite,” he said. “I am pleased to inform you that in a combined operation, the police, customs and Inland Revenue have seized assets in excess of two hundred million pounds, and we fully expect that figure to rise. It is my duty to tell you that I anticipate you will receive a reward for providing information that secures the conviction of McDonagh and his associates. Notwithstanding the condition of the conviction, I have here a single cheque that will go some way to show our appreciation for your courage and assistance in this matter. Upon conviction, a second cheque will be forthcoming.”

He handed a second envelope to Vanessa, and Simone watched as she opened it.

“One hundred thousand pounds!” Simone said.

Vanessa looked at the Superintendent.

“How?” she asked.

“The serious Fraud office is not like a police force. We have access to special funds for such eventualities. I believe the final amount will be in the region of three hundred thousand,” he said.

“Well, that means I can pay off the mortgage, and Simone’s schooling is taken care of. I can’t tell you how welcome this is.”

Ted smiled.

“I’m so sorry about Richard,” he said.

Vanessa smiled weakly, but Simone frowned slightly.

“Can I ask a question, Superintendent?” she asked. Even her voice had the same inflection as her mother.

“Of course.”

“Do we, the British, I mean, do we operate a Witness protection programme, like the Americans?”

Ted stared at her, attempting to formulate a reply. He hadn’t expected this and was wrong-footed for a few moments.

In those moments, Simone suddenly realised she had guessed right.

“My God! He’s not dead, is he? He’s been paid off, - Richard Williamson is buried but not dead! No costly court case, no embarrassments, no newspaper scoops, just a mysterious death, an empty coffin and Bob’s your uncle! It was in his letter. He said he’d never see us again, not that he was going to die, just never see us again.”

Ted stared at the pretty young girl. He knew, with a degree of certainty, that if he lied, she would know. He decided not to.

“I have to inform you, Miss Williamson, that Richard Williamson is officially dead. However, your father is as we speak, flying to New Zealand under a new identity. He is prepared to start a new life, and a life in which he is prohibited from contacting anyone from the old one, or ever setting foot in the UK again. If he does so, he risks losing a similar payment to that which you and your mother have received, and indeed, may even face prosecution for offences that have been set aside, not forgotten.”

“Richard’s not dead?” Vanessa asked, shock registering on her expression.

“To all legitimate intents and purposes he is, but in reality, no, he isn’t.”

Vanessa turned to her daughter.

“How the hell did you know?” she asked.

Simone grinned.

“It’s what I’d have done,” she said.

Ted allowed himself a rare laugh. He liked this girl, more than he had ever liked a teenager before, and he’d had three of his own over the years.

“Mrs Williamson, you have an exceptionally bright daughter here. Best you look after her.”

“I intend to, Superintendent. Believe me, without her, I’d be lost!”

Ted said goodbye and walked out to his car. Simone came with him as far as the drive. Before getting into his car, he looked at the girl.

“So, what do you intend to do with your life, young lady?” he asked.

“Succeed, Superintendent. To be the best at whatever I do.”

“In eight years time, if you fancy a rewarding job, give me a call.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks, you never know, I might just do that! Goodbye Superintendent.”

Chapter 17

As Howard drove to pick up Ian from school on the Saturday, Vanessa was on the phone to Mr Carter, informing him that Simon would not be returning to the school.

“Vanessa, please be reassured that most financial matters can be resolved. Simon is a lovely chap, and I’m sure that we could negotiate some stay of fees until your ex-husband sees his way clear to fulfil his legal obligations.”

“Jacob, it isn’t the financial situation that is the problem. The police told us yesterday that Richard died in London last week. I don’t know the details, but he seems to have fallen foul of some underworld gangland killing. Financially, we are reasonably comfortable, at least in the short term. No, this problem related to Simon’s condition. His current medical condition would disqualify him from an all boy boarding school for the rest of his school career.”

Mr Carter was horrified. “Oh dear, you poor soul. What is wrong with him?”

“Nothing, Jake, nothing at all.”

“You confuse me, so what is his condition?”

“Very simply, my son isn’t a son, she’s a daughter. Simone had a rare genetic disorder, it seems that the poor soul has always been female, but had a deformity that confused doctors. She only started developing with puberty, and we caught it before it became embarrassing for either her, your boys of the school as a whole.”

Jacob Carter was rarely lost for words. Headmasters usually were the kind of men who could accept most things calmly and showing little reaction. This was not one of those times.

“Hello Jacob?”

“Yes, ah, um, I see. A girl, Simon is a girl?” he asked, as clearly he didn’t see.

“Exactly.”

“But Simon is a bloody good rugger player!”

“So, what difference should that make?”

“Um, no, quite! Um, he’s really a girl?”

“Yes, Jacob. Simone is a girl. So, unless you are suddenly going to change to become a co-ed school, we shall have to look elsewhere.”

Jacob was silent. He’d been attempting to persuade the governors to agree to take girls. In an ever-increasing competitive market, it would harvest a captive market. It was a good school, so parents would be more than happy to send the sisters of boys already at the school.

One of the arguments for not going co-ed, was the fact that the current ethos and discipline levels would be lost, due to the fact that girls couldn’t possible exist in such a rarefied atmosphere.

The fact that Simon, no — Simone, not only thrived, but excelled, gave Jacob the perfect evidence that in fact girls could not only manage but perform as well as, if not better than the boys.

“Vanessa, let’s not be too hasty with this. There’s only a week or so to go of this term, can you give me until Christmas?”

It was Vanessa’s turn to become confused.

“Why Jake?”

“If there was a way for your daughter to stay on at Ketterham Court, would you be willing to consider it?”

“Jake, she’s a girl. Think of how difficult it will be for her. Last week she was a boy, and next week she comes back a girl. I personally think it would be a nightmare for her.”

“Possibly, but then he, sorry she, was a popular boy, ah, girl, and I think, if we adopt the proper approach, then it could actually benefit all concerned.”

“Jake, you need your head examined. Her peer group wouldn’t know what to do. They’d treat her like a freak, she’d be teased and they’d make her life a misery.”

“Not necessarily. Not if I could persuade the governors and parents that she was a deliberate plan to prove that girls actually can make it at the school.”

“Jake what are you talking about?”

“Vanessa, Simon was in his first term. No one knew him from before, as he was the only one to come to us from his prep school. Think how easy it would be to say that he, sorry she was here as a test, just to show that a girl could survive at Ketterham.”

“Jake, I appreciate the thought, but it would be dishonest and ultimately could be disproved by anyone who knows the truth. Think of your credibility and that of the school. It just wouldn’t work.” Vanessa said.

“Please, Vanessa, let me at least speak to the governors, and I promise that I’ll simply tell them what you’ve told me. I’d love it if we could see a way for Simone to come back as out first girl!”

“I’m not sure, but perhaps I can wait until the new term.”

“Thanks. I promise I’ll get back to you within the week. There’s a governors’ meeting next Thursday.”

“All right, but I’m still not convinced that Simone would necessarily benefit from Ketterham any more.”

The call ended, and Vanessa looked uncertain as she put the phone back on the charger.

“Well?” Simone asked.

“He wants to persuade the school governors to let you come back.”

“Duh, I’m a girl, doesn’t he believe you?”

“Yes, I think he does, but he wants the school to go co-ed, and he feels your performance to date will prove that girls are capable of managing at the school.”

“Mum, I can’t go back there. They all knew me as a boy. Can’t he see the shit they’ll give me?”

“I can, sweetie, and I did try telling him, but he seems to feel that because you were so good at rugger and so popular, you’ll fit straight back in.”

“He’s an idiot!”

“Yes, dear, I fear you could well be right.”

“Hasn’t he the first idea at how boys think?”

“I don’t think he needs to, he’s only been teaching them for thirty years.”

Simone started to giggle and her mother caught the bug, and they both convulsed with laughter at the ludicrous situation. As they laughed together, the both realised that laughter had been absent from their lives as late. Simone gave her mother a hug.

“Oh mummy, I do so hope life gets better from now on.”

“So do I, dear, so do I!”

They spent the evening bagging up all Simon’s old clothes. She kept one or two items that were unisex, but they placed most of the clothes were in bags, destined for charity shops. Simone seemed to enter into the spirit of the activity with undisguised glee. It was as if by throwing away the old trappings, she was ridding herself of all things male.

Vanessa looked at her animated daughter and smiled wistfully. In a way, she missed Simon, but Simone seemed so much larger than life and bubbly. Simone was so different that Vanessa hardly believed that she was essentially the same person.

“Are you really happier like this?” she asked.

Simone just smiled and nodded.

“Would it have made any difference if we’d never swapped?”

“Probably. I’m not sure. I just know that after being you for a while, I could never have gone back to being a boy. It’s so hard to describe, but being a girl is just so much more real, somehow.”

“Real?”

“Maybe that’s the wrong word. My life was nothing, and yet as a few weeks as you, I had purpose and reasons to live. My whole being felt truly alive for the first time, and I adored the attraction that being a beautiful woman gained from men.”

Vanessa looked at her and smiled.

“And now, being thirteen again, doesn’t that bother you that you have to wait to get that attraction again?”

“Like a few hours?” she asked with a grin.

“A few hours?”

“You did ask Ian with his father, didn’t you?”

“So?”

“From what you told me, he was almost trying to get into your knickers when you were only pretending to be a girl.”

“Ah,” said Vanessa.

“Besides, I did just a little more than wish I was a girl,” Simone admitted.

“I don’t understand,” Vanessa said, frowning.

“Mum, get with it! How many thirteen year old girls have a 34C bust?”

Vanessa looked critically at her daughter’s figure, and it now dawned on her that over the day Simone had been developing rapidly. With all the excitement and visits, Vanessa hadn’t actually noticed. Now she did. Simone looked a lot more mature than most sixteen year olds, let alone thirteen year olds. It also occurred to Vanessa as to the model that Simoné had taken for her new shape.

“Oh, Simone, you didn’t?”

Simone shrugged.

“I felt so at home in your body, I just wished to have the same as yours, only my own age. Well, okay, not quite that young, more a sort of mid-teen figure.”

“Mid-teen? Is this your idea of a mid-teen figure?”

“Okay, mid to late, then.”

“Simone, you look more like a nineteen year old movie star!”

“Thanks mum,” the girl said and grinned mischievously.

* * *

Howard enjoyed watching Ian play and win his match. He was slightly troubled about what Vanessa had said, not really knowing how he would explain things to Ian.

After the lad had changed and came out to meet him by the car, he told him that they had been asked to Sunday Lunch by Vanessa.

“Cool, how’s Simon?” Ian asked, as he was aware that Simon was seeing the specialist.

“Vanessa told me that her ex-husband has been killed, so that adds to their worries.”

“Dad, how’s Simon?” Ian asked, quite heatedly.

“Um, there’s a problem, it seems.”

“What kind of problem, Dad, is he ill?”

“Not as such, well, not at all, but it seems that Simon isn’t really what we thought at all.”

“Eh? Dad, you’re not making much sense. What do you mean?”

“I called Vanessa on Friday evening, as I knew that they’d been to see the specialist. Well, it seems that Simon’s, um, condition, well, it wasn’t really due to the divorce. It was brought on by puberty, and well, it seems that, well, um, it may well be stress induced.”

“Stress induced, how?”

“Well, being in Ketterham, and being surrounded by boys brought on a stress type attack.”

“Why?”

“Ian, Simon isn’t Simon after all, she’s Simone, and she’s been a girl all along.”

Ian went very quiet.

Howard drove in silence for a while.

“Dad, how can that happen?”

“It seems she had a rare genetic condition which meant she was wrongly sexed at birth. It wasn’t a problem until the female hormones started and she began developing properly as a girl. So, it seems she won’t be able to continue at Ketterham.”

Ian wasn’t really listening. He experienced a rushing sensation in his ears. He had been seriously worried about his own sexuality after feeling the way he did about Simon. However, he realised that he only felt that way towards Simon when he played the role of a girl. He’d not experienced these feelings with any other boys and yet he still worried. His mind was in a whirl, as he tried to make sense of what his father had said. His father mistook his silence for something else.

“If you’d rather not go, I could ring and make our excuses,” Howard said.

“No Dad!” Ian said quickly. “No, they will both need us, particularly at this time!”

Howard glanced at his son. Fifteen year-olds didn’t normally think like this about school chums. Or did they?

They arrived home and Ian went straight to the phone as his father put the car away.

* * *

Vanessa was on the loo when the phone rang, so Simone answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Ian?”

“Yeah. I just got home.”

Simone thought he sounded breathless and excited about something.

“Oh, did your Dad tell you?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“I’m really good.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even your voice has changed. You sound brilliant.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what do I call you?”

“Simone seems logical.”

“Okay, Simone, I like that name.”

“Thanks. It’s pretty weird though, being a girl all of a sudden.”

“I bet you’re so pretty!”

“Ian, you don’t sound surprised at all!” Simone said.

“I’m not. I’ve been praying that something like this would happen.”

“Why?”

“You know why!”

Simone made a mental note to ask her mother what the hell really went on behind her back.

“Well, you’ll see me tomorrow,” she said, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know and I can’t wait. Dad told me about your Dad, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, it has sort of come as a surprise as well.”

“How’s your mum?”

“She’s fine, just coming to terms with all the surprises, I suppose.”

“How did she take it?”

“Which, my Dad or me?”

“You.”

“Okay. I think it surprised her, but she’d pleased. It’ll wear off when I start borrowing her clothes.”

Ian laughed. He was so happy to hear her sounding just like the girl in the play, but more real, if that was possible.

“Dad says you won’t be coming back.”

“How can I? It’s a boys’ school, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, I suppose so. You’ve still got stuff here.”

“I know. We’ll have to come up and get it.”

“Do you think they’d take girls and let you come back?”

“Why? Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would.”

“I don’t think it would work. Everyone knew me as a boy, they’d all tease me.”

“No, they wouldn’t, I wouldn’t let them.”

“Ian, you are so sweet, but they would. I know boys, I was one once, remember?”

“No, I don’t think you ever were a real boy.”

“They don’t know that!”

“They’d understand.”

“I don’t think they would. But it doesn’t matter, they don’t take girls, do they?”

“They would if they knew how well you got on!”

“Look, this is an expensive call, does your dad know you’re ringing me?”

“No. I just want to say, I’m still here as a friend, if you ever need one,” Ian said.

Simone started to cry and couldn’t speak.

“Simone? Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine!” she lied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yup.”

“Bye.”

She put the phone down and turned to see her mother watching her.

“Ian?”

Simone nodded, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

“Why the tears?”

“He as so sweet. He just told me that if I ever needed a friend, he was there for me. What did you do, Mum?”

Vanessa came and hugged the girl, smiling.

“Nothing, I promise. I didn’t have to - he did all the work. I just found it easier to sort of think like a girl when I did the play readings, and I must have been more convincing than I thought.”

“He wanted me to go back to school. I told him it wouldn’t work and that I’d get teased. He said he wouldn’t let anyone tease me. Why is he like this? He hasn’t met me like this yet.”

“I really don’t know, sweetie, I don’t think I was a boy long enough. I know they seem far less complex and scheming than girls of the same age, but as for what makes them tick, you’ll have a better idea than me.”

“Not when it comes to sex, Mum, I never got that far,” Simone said, and then added with a smile, “In either guise!”

“Thank God!” Vanessa said, giving the girl a hug.

Chapter 18

“How about this one?”

“It’s one of my favourites, but it’s a little old for you,” Vanessa said.

“Okay, the green one, then?”

“It’s very nice, it certainly brings out the auburn in your hair.”

“I wish my hair was longer!”

“Then you should have thought about it in the machine.”

“There was too much to think about. Besides, it’ll grow.”

They were in Vanessa’s room, and Simone was trying on some of her mother’s clothes.

“I think you should go for the black skirt with that green silk blouse. It is more your age and accentuates your wonderfully slender waist.”

“You figure is almost the same as mine.”

“No dear, you have a much more lithe and slender figure, even if you have a very generous bust for your age!”

Simone blushed and grinned as she self-consciously raised her hands to the offending items.

She then dressed in the suggested clothes, and stood before her mother.

“Well?”

“You’ll need some tights, it’s chilly.”

“What about shoes?”

Vanessa selected a pair of shoes with two-inch heels.

“Why not higher? I’m used to them.”

“Simone, you are supposed to be thirteen, so girls your age just don’t vamp about in stilettos.”

Vanessa watched as Simone applied a little discreet makeup, and together they styled her short hair into something vaguely feminine by using some gel.

“What about nail varnish?” Simone asked.

“What about it?”

“Should I wear it?”

“If you want. I suggest a subdued colour or a sparkly type, as befits your age.”

“Boring!” Simone said, and rooted through the varnishes until she found something her mother agreed was appropriate.

“You really are stunning,” Vanessa said.

“Like mother, like daughter.”

“I like having a daughter.”

“Better than a son?”

“Just different. I feel closer to you now.”

“Mummy, we are closer than any two people in the world.”

They both smiled and went down to the kitchen.

“Put an apron on, I don’t want my clothes buggered up.”

“Already in hand, Mummy dearest,” said Simone, tying an apron round her middle.

They worked well together, preparing the vegetables, putting the joint in the oven and making the pudding. Vanessa showed Simone how to slice and prepare the apple, make pastry, roll it properly and finish the pie with milk and pastry shapes.

“You have no idea how nervous I am about meeting Howard. I’m sure he’ll smell a rat!”

“Oh Mummy, don’t be so silly, he won’t have a clue. He’s a man!”

“So?”

“He’ll just be happy that you are pleased to see him. Just remember, when he kisses, he likes to grab your bum.”

“Simone!”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Be a nun?”

“You could have been a little more reserved.”

“I was reserved, otherwise I’d have gone to bed with him.”

“Oh, my God, I’ve raised a whore!”

“No, you haven’t, I was being you and acting as natural as possible. I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done. I could ‘feel’ what I was doing was in keeping with your character, don’t ask me how I knew, I just got a feel of what to do and not do - I was in your head, after all.”

“Hmm, I know what you mean. I sort of felt what was right and wrong when I was you. Weird, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I liked being you, and to be honest would have been happy to remain so. But I’m awfully pleased with this result!”

The Jamiesons arrival curtailed their conversation. Simone was about to go rushing out to greet them, but was stopped by her mother.

“Simone, never rush, let him come to you!”

“Why?”

“Then he feels he’s in control. Yet, you know that you are really in control.”

Howard parked the car and the pair of them walked towards the front door. Ian reached out to ring the bell when the door opened. He stared, his mouth open, as Simone smiled at him.

“Hi Ian, you’re early, come on in. Hello Mr Jamieson, Mum’s just putting her face on, she won’t be long.”

Both Ian and Howard stared at Simone. Neither could actually believe the difference in her in the few days since they’d last seen her. Ian in particular couldn’t take his eyes from her ample bosom.

“Gracious, how the hell could anyone mistake you for a boy?” asked Howard, to which Simone giggled delightfully.

“I have to confess, even I thought I was a boy. These are a recent development, as is the plumbing downstairs.”

Both the Jamiesons felt acutely embarrassed and were more than happy to be ushered into the house.

“Sling your coats on the newel post, and I’ll get you a drink. Howard, single malt, yes?”

“That would be lovely, thank you Simone.”

“Ian, what would you like?”

“A Coke please, Simone.”

“Go through to the sitting room, I’ll get your drinks.”

She went into the small bar cupboard off the dining room. Her father had insisted on this feature, and it had a small basin and a fridge as well as a well stocked bar.

She poured their drinks and returned to the sitting room. They were obviously talking about her, as they looked embarrassed again and went quiet on her arrival.

“Oh, I know, you’re both surprised and shocked at what I look like. You can speak to me about it, you know?”

“No, it’s not that, well, maybe, a bit. But I was just saying how pretty you are,” Ian said, blushing.

Vanessa came to his rescue by walking in.

Simone watched Howard, as soon as he saw her, his expression melted into a smile. To her delight, her mother returned it and kissed him warmly on the cheek.

“Howard, how lovely to see you again. I’m so sorry about all the mixed messages I seemed to have given you, but as you may now realise, my life has been somewhat complicated of late.”

“So I see, I honestly had no idea. Isn’t she like you?” he said.

“Do you think so?”

“Oh yes, she could be your younger sister.”

Vanessa blushed and Simone giggled again.

Simone turned to Ian. “Let’s leave them to it, come into the kitchen and talk to me while I turn the potatoes,” she told him.

He followed her out willingly, taking his glass of beer with him. He watched her as she put on the apron and took the roasting tray containing the potatoes out of the oven. She used a carving fork to turn them, and looked up.

“Well?” she asked.

“What?”

“Say something. I mean, now you have me on my own and the way you wanted, I thought at least you’d say something.”

“I had all sorts of things ready to ask you and now I find I can’t remember any of them. I know I imagined how you’d look as a girl, but I never dreamed you’d be this beautiful!”

Simone blushed and smiled at him.

“You are silly!”

“No, I’m not. I knew there was something about you. There was no way you could have been a boy. Even though you played rugger, you were just so different.”

“Ian, I wasn’t different. I was a boy, I thought I was, and so did everyone else. Things happened and I had a choice to make. I made my choice and I now have to live with it.”

“How do you mean?”

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m sorted now and I have to get used to being a girl for the rest of my life. What I was and how I managed to change isn’t really important any more, is it?”

Ian nodded, his eyes flicking towards her chest.

“How come you’ve managed to, um, well to be as, um, you know, um, big as you are? I mean, I only saw you a few days ago, and you seemed normal then.”

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Well, it seems that my condition was dormant, but I got some help from a nutty professor that mum knew at university. Do you think these are too big?”

Ian, staring at her tits legitimately this time, shook his head.

“No, they look perfect to me. How big should they be?”

“I don’t know. Mummy says they shouldn’t be this big at my age. What do you think, do I look thirteen?”

Ian stared at her, a frown on his face. He really did look very like his father.

“No, not that I know that many thirteen year olds. You look nearer twenty, to me.”

Simone smiled and looked serious for a moment.

“If I was allowed to come back to Ketterham, do you think they’d give me a hard time?” she asked.

“You’d come back?”

“The head is trying to persuade the governors to agree to make Ketterham co-ed. I’m just worried I’d be teased and have my life made a misery.”

He took a long look at her. Taking a long look at her hourglass figure, her long legs and exceptionally pretty face.

“No, I don’t think anyone would tease you. Most wouldn’t actually twig you’re the same person.”

“How do you mean?”

“Simone, if I didn’t know you, I’d never recognise you as being Simon Williamson, so what does it matter you are now Simone Williamson?”

“I’m not, I’m Simone Strickland. My mother is adopting her maiden name, so I am too.”

“If she married Dad, you’d be Simone Jamieson.”

“Only if he adopts me. Besides, what makes you think she will?”

“He’s mad over her, and I saw them kissing once. I think she more than likes him.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” she said.

“What question?” he asked, confused.

“Should I go back to Ketterham, if they ask me, that is?”

“Yes!”

“That was too quick and personal, in my opinion,” she said, ruefully.

“Maybe, but think of the play. How much more can you give as a real girl?”

“Okay, maybe, but I can’t play on the wing for the junior colts any more, can I?”

“Why not?”

“They won’t let a girl play rugger. Not that they’d be afraid I’d get hurt, although that’s the excuse they’d give. No, they couldn’t cope if I scored a try and made their little darlings seem not as good as a girl.”

Ian chuckled and had to agree.

“Okay, this is all nearly ready. Let’s go back to the parents,”

“Simone?”

“What?”

“Seriously, no one would ever guess you were the same person.”

“Why not?”

“You probably don’t see it, but you look and sound so totally different.”

“Really?”

“Look, the only time you practised being a girl for the play was when we were alone, so no one else will ever know. You are such a beautiful girl, no one would ever think you were a boy.”

“Thanks, I need to be told that.”

“Simone, I’d never tell anyone, either.”

“Thanks. I need all the friends I can get.”

“I’ll always be there for you,” Ian said, quietly and earnestly.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks,” she said and went back to the sitting room. She smiled, as Ian was very like his father.

Ian stood there for a moment, touching his cheek with his hand. At that moment, he lost his heart completely.

Several times during the meal, Howard felt confused. He was having a conversation with Simone, and for some reason he called her Nessa. She giggled as he realised his mistake, but it alarmed him that they were as similar as they were. It wasn’t just the looks, for clearly there was no doubt as to their genetic proximity, it was everything else as well. Their voices, mannerisms, inflections and sense of humour, were all so similar to make it like talking to identical twins, separated by one generation.

His main confusion was the level of maturity displayed by young Simone. He knew she was in reality a year and a half younger than Ian, yet she looked and behaved several years older. Her conversation and awareness of life was not that of a girl her age and he felt as if he was with someone much older.

Ian, however, was totally captivated by the younger girl. All his disquiet evaporated as he watched her interact with her mother and his father. If anything, he felt slightly inferior to this sophisticated and bubbly girl. Whereas Simon had been very much his junior at school, he felt Simone had caught him up and overtaken him overnight.

It was a lovely meal. The food was good and wholesome. Howard immediately saw in Vanessa a much better housekeeper than his ex-wife and that made him more determined than ever to press forward with his suit.

Although quite cold, it was dry, so after lunch they went for a walk along a footpath and through a local wood. With coats, hats and scarves, they enjoyed getting some fresh air and exercise. They met several other walkers and Howard wondered how many of these strangers saw them as a happy family group.

“Vanessa?”

“Yes.”

“Have you given any more thought to what I asked you a little while ago?”

Vanessa met Simone’s eyes and smiled.

“Yes Howard, I have. As I said before, I’m honoured and flattered that you feel as strongly as you do. Yet I still feel that I need a period of stability before I make any momentous decisions. I also need to try to gauge my own feelings. I hope you understand.”

Howard did, feeling, if anything, more respect for this courageous and incredibly attractive woman.

“I do understand, Vanessa, and I hope you’ll forgive my impatience.”

She took his hand and smiled. “I do Howard. I just need to settle down and attain some form of normality. Don’t give up on me, there’s a love.”

Howard had no intention of doing so. He was so attentive and caring that Vanessa was disarmed.

Simone smiled at her mother as they met one and other’s eyes. Howard and Ian left just after tea, leaving Vanessa wondering what her Nessa had done to the man. As soon as they’d gone, she took her daughter to task, demanding exactly what had happened in great detail. Simone told her about the dinners and was about to explain further when the telephone rang, interrupting their discussion.

Vanessa answered it, and as soon as she heard her mother’s voice, her heart sank. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten all about her mother.

Catherine Strickland lived in the house she and her husband had built some forty years previously, just after they married. Roger, her husband, died in a riding accident three years ago. He was part of the Cottesmore Hunt and fell from his horse whilst hunting in Leicestershire.

Vanessa had two brothers. The elder, David, still farmed his father’s farm, while the younger, William, was an officer in the Royal Navy, currently on board HMS Defiant in the Gulf. Vanessa was neatly sandwiched between the two, and hadn’t seen either much over the last few months. David because he was very busy and William because he wasn’t in the country.

“Vanessa, darling, you haven’t called me in ages. I read in a paper somewhere that your awful ex-husband was no more. When were you going to tell me?”

“This evening, Mummy, it’s not the only bit of news. Life has been quite, um, well to be honest, it’s been bloody harrowing and to be frank, you were not high on my list of people to call.”

Catherine was stunned into unaccustomed silence.

“I’m sorry, Mummy, but you and your little world up there is so far removed from what’s been going on down here, I had neither the time nor the inclination to phone you and update you. To be honest, Richard and his bloody dealings have not been the most pressing problems we’ve had. But, in answer to your question, he’s dead, and so I am finally free of the conniving bastard.”

“You said ‘we’, what’s happened to Simon?”

“Well, where do you want me to start?”

“How about the beginning?”

“Well, it started when I got a call from Simon’s Headmaster…..

…..and so the specialist said she’d always been a girl, but due to a mistake when she was a baby, she’d been wrongly sexed, so without knowing it we brought her up as a boy.”

“Twaddle!”

“What?”

“I said ‘twaddle’, Vanessa, I bathed that little boy when he was a baby. I had two boys so I know a boy when I see one. So, what really happened?”

Vanessa sighed.

“Even if I told you, Mother, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me!”

“Okay, when I was bringing Simon home, we were involved in a car accident….

…..and then, when we changed back, Simon decided he didn’t want to go back to being a boy. So, you now have a normal granddaughter called Simoné.”

Once more Catherine was completely silent.

“Mummy?”

“You’re telling me that she was you, and she was involved with the police when Richard was up to his tricks?”

“Yes, she was.”

“May I speak to the girl?”

“Hang on, I’ll get her.”

Vanessa took the phone and found Simone in the small sitting room watching TV. She handed her the phone.

“Hello?”

“All right, young lady, tell me how and why?”

“No, I don’t think I can, Granny. I just know that for the first time in my life, I’m truly content!”

“Thank God for that. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do now.”

“So, tell me about your father.”

Simone did, leaving nothing out, except for the fact the man was still alive.

“So, you managed that with your mother being you in your school?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must always have been a female at heart, for a boy would have never managed all that. Welcome to the club, my darling!”

Chapter 19

Mr Carter strode onto the dais in the large assembly room. It was the final assembly of the Christmas term, and there was an atmosphere of eager anticipation in the room. The Carol Service was that very afternoon and immediately afterwards the term officially ended.

“This has been a good term,” he said. “We have seen more victories on the rugby pitch than ever before. We have achieved a first class standard in the classroom and in every aspect of school life. We’ve seen some sadness, and a couple of our boys have had to leave due to family circumstances. However, I have a piece of momentous news, and news that is, in my opinion, the most dramatic ever to occur at Ketterham Court.

“I am pleased to announce that the board of governors met last week, and have agreed that as from the beginning of the next year, that is next September, Ketterham will for the first time admit girls in all levels of the school.

“As a pilot scheme, there will be eight girls starting next term, just to start the ball rolling. Three will be joining the Third form and five the Fourth form. As numbers have dwindled, the houses of Nelson and Livingstone will amalgamate into one house, under the name of Nelson. A brand new house, Astor, will become the first girls’ house. Letters have been sent out to all parents and it is anticipated that by September at least fifty girls will be starting their time here.

“It is hoped that in the next three to five years, a second girls’ house will be opened. We shall decide its name nearer the time. This is a courageous move by our governors, who have a vision of this school progressing into the twenty-first century as a thriving and successful school, undaunted by the changes in society. We will adapt as dictated by those changes and our young people will be more than prepared for their adult lives in our nation.”

For once, there was more than a little interest in Mr Carter’s closing speech of the year. The upper Sixth were unaffected, as they would all be gone by the time the next September arrived. However, the younger boys were suddenly curious to know what these girls were going to be like. As they left the hall, there was much speculation as to the degrees of pulchritude of the few girls that were due to start the following term.

Ian kept quiet, silently hoping that one Simone Strickland was going to be one of them.

Vanessa arranged for all Simon’s kit to be boxed for collection. As far as the boys were concerned, they had more or less forgotten him already. A few days before, she had received a call from Jacob Carter. He informed her of the governors’ decision and, in the end, she relented as he persuaded her to send Simone back to the school.

“In the final analysis the financial situation had already persuaded the governors to make the move. I didn’t need to mention Simone at all. There have been so many enquiries that they have asked me to select eight girls as a pilot scheme for the last two terms of this scholastic year. Please allow your daughter to be one of them?”

He understood that Vanessa was now using her maiden name, and so Simone would now have the surname Strickland.

“The first eight girls are attending an assessment day next week. Would Simone be willing to attend? That way she would be starting from scratch and no one would ever connect her to young Simon Williamson.”

Therefore, it was that on the same day that the announcement was made, any boy happening to be looking out of a north-facing window at eleven a.m. would have seen eight girls arrive with their parents.

Ian was one such boy. He saw Simone and was confused, as the woman accompanying her was not Vanessa. He watched as they went into the main building and try as he could, he couldn’t see anything of Simon in her. Although her features were more or less the same, somehow her expression and whole demeanour made her into a completely different person. For a start, she seemed taller, and there was no doubt her chest made all the difference.

Mr Carter welcomed the girls to the school and then asked to sit and complete an hour’s paper on general knowledge and current affairs. Their reports from their previous schools had already been sent ahead, with the exception of Simone’s, as her case was somewhat different.

Simone glanced round the other girls. All, like her, were dressed in smart skirts, blouses and cardigans in neutral colours, such as blues and greens. The first thing that she realised was that she looked the eldest, or certainly the most physically mature. The two other third formers looked much younger than Simone, who looked older even than the prospective fourth formers.

At the conclusion of their assessment, the girls were given a tour of the facilities. Unbeknown to Simone, her assessment sheet was subject of much discussion by the head of English and the History master, Mr Griffiths and Mr Davey.

Jacob deliberately kept out of their discussion, as he had simply told them that her reports from her ‘previous school’ were exceptional.

“Jacob, I believe this girl ought to be in the fourth form, as her literacy and understanding of current affairs is far in excess of that I would expect of a third former,” Mr Griffiths said.

“I agree, as she has a real understanding of politics and the power plays amongst the Middle Eastern nations. Her handwriting, grammar and general standard of work are simply superb. She may be only thirteen, but I feel she would be wasted in the third form.”

“Jacob, if she was placed in the third form, she would make the boys look even worse than they really are, can we place her in the year above? If it doesn’t work out, then we have two terms in which to sort her out.”

“If she goes into the fourth form, this is the first year for GCSEs, is she ready for it with such short notice?” Jacob asked.

“You’ve seen her reports from her previous school, what is she like?”

Jacob knew that Simon was exceptionally bright. However, had he been a more mature boy he may well have been elevated to the fourth year. Due to his young physical and emotional age, he hadn’t been.

The three men saw Simone as she walked back into the cafeteria following the school secretary on their tour of the school. The girl looked far older than her thirteen years and they unanimously agreed to elevate her to the year above.

Ian was sitting in the cafeteria with a couple of friends. He glanced up as the girls came in. Silence descended on the large and usually chaotic room.

All male eyes swivelled towards the door and the school secretary blushed. She felt embarrassed on behalf of the girls.

Ian’s eyes met Simone’s and both smiled at the same time. Kipper Blake, sitting at the next table with Splodge was quite effusive with his voluble opinion.

“Shit, look at the tits on the tall girl!”

Simone was nearly three inches taller than the others and Ian thought she looked wonderful. Her hair was still quite short, but it had been specially cut and styled to enhance the shape of her face. The auburn colour glowed and the tinge of gold seemed to make her shine.

The girls were encouraged to collect their food and sat together at a table a short distance away from where Ian sat. Simone appeared to have no difficulty in mixing with the others and no one had the faintest idea that she was the same person as Simon Williamson.

Ian stood up and walked over to them.

Simone saw him coming. She looked up and smiled.

“Hello Ian, how are you?”

“Hi Simone, I’m so pleased to see you here. I hoped you’d make it!”

The other girls were faintly jealous, as this tall and quite hunky boy obviously knew Simone.

“Are you coming here, then?” he asked, almost saying — ‘are you coming back?’

“I don’t know. It’s up to the headmaster and those who mark the assessment paper.”

“You had to do a paper?” he asked, surprised.

“All girls coming here for the first time have to,” she replied, emphasising the latter half of the sentence.

“Oh, I suppose so.”

The Head, Mr Davey and Mr Griffiths approached to the girls.

“Ah, getting to know your way around?” Jacob asked. The girls all smiled and nodded. All seemed quite shy, for well they might, as at that moment, and for most of the previous ten minutes, they had been subject to more male scrutiny than most of them had experienced in their short lifetimes. The only one who appeared totally at ease was Simone, who appeared to have made one new friend already.

“Ah, Jamieson, getting to know our prospective new girls?”

“Yes sir, or rather, Simone and I already know each other, sir.”

Jacob looked at the boy, almost immediately reading the nature of the lad’s feelings for the attractive girl.

“Quite, well that’s a bonus. At least she’ll know someone in her new form.”

Ian and Simone frowned.

“In fact, all the girls will be joining us. Sarah and Jane are to join the third form and Lucy, Simone, Poppy, Natasha, Samantha and Rose will all be in the fourth form.

“Sir, I thought I was joining the third form?” Simone asked, still frowning in confusion.

“No, your previous school reports and your assessment paper indicate that you will be more at home in the fourth form, young lady,” said Mr Griffiths. Jacob just smiled as he watched the reactions of the two young people.

“Sir, now that Williamson isn’t here any more, would it be possible for Simone to take on the role of Julia in the Junior play? We live near each other and could rehearse in the holidays.”

Mr Griffiths was taken aback at the speed at which young Ian Jamieson was seeking the now vacant part for the attractive auburn-haired girl. However, it made sense, so he agreed without much hesitation.

“If she’d like to. Jamieson, you can’t just assume because you happen to know the girl, she’ll automatically want to leap into such a venture with both feet. Would you like to take on the role, Miss Strickland?”

“I’d love to. My mother was involved in drama at university and everyone says we are very alike.”

“Excellent! Well, you can talk about that later, the girls are now coming over to the school office where their parents can be given the good news and we can all discuss the arrangements for next term.”

As soon as the girls left, Ian was bombarded by questions.

“Who is she?”

“How long have you known her?”

“What’s her name?”

“Is she coming here?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

The last question made him look at the questioner. It was Roddy Hamilton, a friend from his house in the same form.

“Yes, Roddy, she is,” he heard his voice answer before his brain had an opportunity to engage properly.

There was a moment’s shocked silence.

“You lucky bastard, imagine having your girlfriend in the same form,” said one.

“Imagine having your girlfriend in the same bed,” said another voice, amongst much laughter.

Ian smiled as he imagined just that. He didn’t know what to do with her, but it’d be fun finding out.

* * *

Vanessa had deliberately kept a low profile, as some people in the school knew her by sight already. Roz had very kindly taken Simone to school. She had been bowled over when they announced the news of Simone’s ‘real’ gender, as had Alicia, who was secretly delighted as she was happier having Simone as a girl friend than just another boy she knew.

Roz had phoned for a chat and asked how Vanessa was getting on. Vanessa had to explain about Simone and her transformation. Roz had been over like a shot, bringing Alicia with her.

On walking into the house, unannounced as usual, they’d met Simone coming down stairs. Dressed in a tight pair of jeans and a pink top, she looked every inch the pretty teenager she now was.

“Hi Aunt Roz, Alicia. Well, what do you think?” she asked, raising her arms and giving them a twirl.

Simone’s physical development shocked both of them, as the girl had already outstripped Alicia and made the poor girl seem quite dowdy by comparison.

“Oh my God! How?” Roz asked, as Vanessa came out from the kitchen.

Alicia and Simone disappeared up to Simone’s room, and let Vanessa update her friend. They had the gender condition story off pat now. Vanessa had sent off the letters to relevant registrars, in order to correct Simone’s records.

Alicia was speechless in Simone’s presence.

“Come on, Alicia, we’ve known each other so long! Please tell me what you think.”

“I can’t believe this. I only saw you a couple of weeks ago, and now, like this, it’s unreal!”

“Do I look awful?”

“Not at all, you look wonderful. In fact you don’t look like you at all.”

“Not at all?”

“No. I mean, a bit, as your face is sort of the same, but it isn’t!”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I can see underneath there’s a similarity, like you’re Simon’s older sister or something. But it’s your body that is out of this world! How did you grow that much so quickly?” she said staring at Simoné’s firm bosom, very narrow waist and gently curving hips.

Simone smiled and shrugged.

“The specialist says that my body had been changing from the inside for some time. I simply had a growing spurt and filled out in all the right places.”

“Right places? Simone, you’ve an amazing figure! You’re so like your mother, it’s uncanny.”

Simone just smiled knowingly.

So, at the school, Roz played the dutiful godmother and no one suspected the truth. She chatted with the other parents, all of which believed she was the mother of the tall attractive girl. She didn’t put them right, as she found the whole thing hilarious. Never actually admitting to being Simone’s mother, nobody challenged her, so no one was any the wiser.

As they were driving back, Roz glanced at Simone. For a moment she believed that Vanessa was sitting beside her.

“You are so like your mother!”

Simone smiled.

“Everyone says that, I like it, it’s a compliment.”

“I can’t believe the change in you. Are you happier like this?”

“As a girl, you mean? Yes, it’s like a dream come true. It wasn’t as if I was desperate to be a girl, but when it happened, I felt I belonged.”

“I just can’t believe how quick it happened. I mean, one minute, you were Simon and the next, you were big, bouncy and beautiful, and Simon is nowhere to be seen. Did you have no idea at all?”

“None. Physically, what I had was almost normal. It was inside I had changed the most, and then the outside shifted to come into line. There’s a tribe in Africa that the boys all look like girls until puberty, I was just the other way around.”

“I think it is so strange, you going back to the same school as a girl. Won’t they know you?”

“I don’t think so. I wasn’t there very long, just a few weeks. Besides, I’m going into a higher form, so no one will know me there.”

“What about young thingy?”

“You mean Ian Jamieson?”

“That’s the one. What about him, does he know?”

“Yes, he does and I think he fancies me, so that’s a different type of problem.”

Roz was quiet for a moment as she flung the large four by four down some narrow lanes. Simone smiled as she realised she could drive better than Roz. Hell, an octogenarian paraplegic could drive better than Roz!

Roz stopped the car in a spray of gravel, as always, and Vanessa was out of the house before the last few stones had fallen back to earth.

“Well?”

“I’m in, but I’ve to go up a year. They thought my paper was too mature for the third form.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes, it means I won’t be in the same year group, so they won’t know me so well.”

“I’m still worried, what if someone twigs?”

“Then I’ll have to deal with it, but I don’t think they will and Alicia doesn’t either.”

“Well, my love, time will tell.”

Chapter 20

Christmas was cold, but with no snow, it was hard to get into the real spirit of the event. The previous Christmas had been a complete non-event for Vanessa and Simon, but this year was happier.

With the mortgage paid off and some funds in the bank, things were looking up. Howard and Ian went north for Christmas to his parents in Scotland. Howard asked Vanessa if she wanted to join them. She declined, saying that she needed some space and time to think about everything.

In the end, she and Simone had a very quiet day, eating a lasagne and some apple pie and watching all the weepy films together on the sofa with a box of tissues. With Richard out of the picture, they were both able to look forward instead of backwards. Vanessa appreciated her daughter in a way she had never realised. To be able to cry together was something she hadn’t felt able to do with Simon.

Vanessa made an agreement with Simone, so after Christmas, they went by train into London and spent far too much in the sales. At last, Simone had a wardrobe of which she could be proud. Vanessa was relieved that she wouldn’t keep stealing all her best clothes. In fact, they’d both accumulated some new clothes and many were interchangeable. Simone’s taste was impressed upon her by her time as Nessa that she liked clothes designed for the older girl, not the teenager. However, peer pressure as it was, some items like jeans, short skirts and tops she bought, just so she wouldn’t seem too out of place.

* * *

Eddie McDonagh was not a happy man. He was on remand inside Belmarsh Prison and his future looked very bleak indeed. His solicitor brought him news that made him even unhappier.

“The police have seized all your off-shore assets. Somehow they’ve got details of everything you had.”

“Everything?”

“Almost. There are some funds in the Cayman island account.”

“How much?”

“Just over the million.”

“Richard fucking Williamson!”

“Probably, but he’s dead!”

“He’s family ain’t!”

“So?”

“Bobby, it’s time to seek retribution.”

“Of what nature?”

“My life is fucked, so why not fuck theirs?”

Robert Wiseman cringed internally. He’d been paid, and paid well. Even so, the prospect of a lengthy conspiracy trial, followed by costly appeals would see him up to retirement. However, Fast Eddie was not a pleasant man.

“I assume by ‘fuck’ you mean some form of physical intervention?”

Eddie grinned evilly.

“Like permanent inter-fucking-vention!”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“What?”

“To initiate violent action against his family would not achieve anything. Besides, the ones in this country were left with nothing when he buggered off with his fancy woman. If you were to, how should I say, arrange for the, ah, separation of the latest edition to the Williamson clan, and ask for say, a million New Zealand dollars in exchange for her release, then you would start to recoup some of those losses. By not initiating action in this country you would, at least in part, not draw undue attention to yourself as a suspect. Being incarcerated would seem an ideal alibi, in any case.”

Eddie grinned again.

“That’s what I love about you, Bobby mate, you’ve got class. Who have I got left I can trust, is Stan still in the clear?”

“Some of your, ah, North London associates are still, how would you say, ah, free to undertake contracts, and Stanley Butcher is one of them, I believe.”

“Pass the word, then. I’ll leave the details up to you.”

“Me? My word, Eddie, I don’t do things like that. I will deliver a letter and see he understands. I can’t abuse my position.”

“You fucking hypocrite, Bobby, you’re as much a villain as me, so don’t give me all that shit. I can bury you if I fucking wanted to, so cut the crap!”

Robert Wiseman arched his eyebrows, but said nothing. The problem with associating with criminals was that one inexorably became as they were over time. He nodded, accepting that he as too deep to be able to extricate himself. The advantage was that people like Eddie would always need a solicitor.

“I will speak to Mr Butcher.”

“Good. Now, have you heard who the judge is yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

“I have some filth on a couple. They used a few of my girls some years back and I’ve some tasty photographs. A nice technical dismissal would go down well, and then the fucking Old Bill would have to return my fucking cash, wouldn’t they?”

Robert shook his head. Eddie had no compunction in blackmailing a senior judge, threatening jurors, or even removing witnesses permanently. However, his ability to reach out from Belmarsh was severely restricted now. Notwithstanding Eddie’s imagination and ability to maintain old contacts, Robert Wiseman was beginning to feel he had hoisted his flag to the wrong mast.

* * *

Susannah and Gerry arrived back at Heathrow a week after Richard had left Britain for good under his new name. They planned to sell the hotel, move to South island where, as Richard and Susannah Clark, they were buying a small bungalow. Richard had a job in a local insurance office, leaving his wife to look after their daughter. He remained behind as Gerry took his daughter back for a two-week visit to Britain.

Gerry had brought his daughter home to show his wife their first grandchild. He secretly hoped she’d not want to return to New Zealand. Susannah was still travelling under her maiden name of McCallum, so she had only to have her baby put onto her passport at the British consulate.

As they left Heathrow in Gerry’s car, he told her they were going to drop in on some good friends.

It was with some alarm, therefore, when he pulled up outside Vanessa’s home, that Susannah realised just who those friends were.

Gerry was bamboozled when Simone answered the door. He knew Vanessa had a son, but wasn’t aware of any siblings.

“Don’t frown so, Gerry, it’s me, Simone, except I was a little different the last time you saw me.”

“I’m sorry, have we met?”

“I’m Simone. You knew me as Simon.”

The last time he had seen her - she had been a he and played a good game of rugby. There was no doubting the gender of this young woman.

She invited them in, taking them into the kitchen.

“Mum’s not here at the moment, she’s gone to sort out some legal stuff with the solicitor. How are you, Gerry? I take it that this is Dad’s new wife and my half-sister?”

“I’m sorry, yes, you’ve completely thrown me, I had all this planned. How in God’s name did you suddenly become a girl?”

“It seems I had a gender condition that was confusing. This is the real me,” she said, looking at the baby in Susannah’s arms.

“Simone, right, this is my daughter Susannah and wee Gail. You’re right, I suppose she is your half sister.”

Simone looked at the woman who had stolen her father. She was quite pretty, but shorter and less slender than she expected. She had tied back her fair hair into a ponytail and she looked tired.

“You’re tired, would you like some tea?” she asked.

“Aye, that would be good,” said Gerry. He watched the girl and shook his head.

“Are ye sure you’re not an older sister, for I can’t reconcile ye as a laddie.”

“What do you want me to say? This is a time of all manner of strange things. I mean, Dad’s dead and yet he’s not. I’m a girl and yet I haven’t always been; who knows what tricks are up life’s sleeve?”

She made them tea and offered them biscuits.

“Are you going back to him?” she asked Susannah.

Gerry laughed at her openness.

“I, I think so. Why?” Susannah asked, her voice trembling. She didn’t understand half the conversation that went on, staring at the confident and strikingly pretty girl who had just given her some tea.

“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t need to be afraid of us. You have my sympathy, that’s all,” Simone said. “I only hope he’s learned his lesson. Best you don’t tell him about me.”

“About you?”

“He still thinks I’m a boy. Best we keep it that way, otherwise things will get even more complicated. I know he’s not allowed back, or to contact us, but Dad’s not very good at keeping promises. This way, I reckon he’ll not find me even if he wanted to.”

They heard the sound of a car arriving. Vanessa came in and immediately looked at Simone, who nodded imperceptibly.

Gerry gasped as he saw mother and daughter together. They were more like identical twin sisters than parent and child. Vanessa’s obvious maturity was evident, but Simone could easily pass for a girl in her early twenties.

“Seeing you together, I wonder how such a mistake could have been made. But I saw you as Simon and ye looked a normal lad to me!”

Simone just smiled.

Gerry introduced Susannah to Vanessa and the younger woman was now seriously troubled. She had imagined a harridan of a wife, hideous or emotionally cold. She didn’t expect her to be strikingly attractive, relaxed and charming. If he left a woman like this, then how could she possibly expect him to stay with her?

It was Simone who seemed to read her thoughts.

“Dad had a mini-breakdown, something like the male menopause. He couldn’t cope with Mum being the organised and efficient type. He likes being in control, being able to exercise his powers and Mum wasn’t giving him what he wanted. I was away at school and he felt redundant. Also, he was a complete arse, so I just hope he’s learned his lesson.”

Vanessa smiled, but Gerry could see the strain this visit was causing the older woman. Simone was far more relaxed and even asked to hold Gail who, at eight months, was at that aware stage.

Vanessa saw her daughter holding a baby and it was almost too much. She broke down in tears and she and Susannah embraced. Simone looked up at Gerry and smiled.

“Blokes couldn’t do this!” she said and he chuckled, wiping a tear away surreptitiously.

Sworn to secrecy over Simone’s new persona, the pair soon left for Scotland after their brief visit. Vanessa was feeling quite confused.

“I thought I’d hate her,” she said.

“It wasn’t her fault. It was his.”

“I know that, Simone, but I still thought I’d hate her. I hated her before I met her. Now I think I just pity her.”

“Hate is a luxury we can’t afford, Mummy, it takes up too much effort, time and is too negative to be useful.”

“Hark at you, the expert,” Vanessa replied.

“I was born out of hate!”

“What?”

“Well, I was. If I hadn’t hated Dad so much, I wouldn’t have wanted to be an adult. If you hadn’t hated what had happened, you wouldn’t have wanted to stop the world and get off. When it happened, we wouldn’t have swapped and I would never have known what being a woman is all about.”

“You still don’t, not really. A few weeks doesn’t a lady make.”

“I accept that, but I came on again this morning, one of my own this time, so there’s no going back now.”

* * *

“Bobby, what news, me old mate?” Eddie asked, as he sat opposite his solicitor. As a prisoner on remand, he was entitled to speak privately to his solicitor. The Prison officers watched them, but were not able to overhear their conversation.

“The younger widow Williamson has returned to the UK with her father. The hotel is for sale and she has come home.”

“Ah, complicated. Gerry McCallum is not a bloke I’d want to cross,” Eddie said.

“It seems that he was involved with the other widow, prior to the shit hitting the proverbial!”

“How do you know that?”

“I have my sources. They were seen together a couple of times. He even went to watch the son play rugby at school.”

“What’s Gerry’s game?”

“I think the same as always, to get his daughter back. He’s not bothered about you, and probably used people to get what he wanted.”

“Are you saying he used me?”

“I’m saying nothing. You simply did what you did and as a result his daughter has come home.”

Eddie was thoughtful.

“Richard would never have had that much balls. McCallum must have put him up to it!”

Wiseman held up a pack of cigarettes so the watching officer could see them. The man waited for him to open the pack and roll the cigarettes onto the table. The box he replaced into his pocket.

Eddie lit up, inhaling deeply.

“I’d fucking given this lark up, did you realise that?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Fucking bastards!”

“Yes, if you say so.”

“The boy, the first bitch’s kid, what’s his name?”

“Simon, why?”

“Is he worth much?”

“No, I don’t think so. There might be some insurance, but nothing like enough.”

“So, this other kid, the baby, is it a boy or what?”

“A girl, not yet a year old.”

“That’s the key. Snatch the baby; get old man McCallum to pay up, or his granddaughter gets snuffed. Two birds with one stone. I get even and some of my dosh back. With a kid that age, no witnesses, it should be a piece of piss. The word will be out that Fast Eddie may be inside, but he’s still in business!”

Robert Wiseman didn’t like the idea, but being the kind of man he was, he said nothing and went on his way. One phone call later, he relaxed. It was out of his hands.

Stanley Butcher put the phone down. He wasn’t an employee of Fast Eddie, but he undertook certain contractual obligations every now and again. He’d come up the hard way with Eddie and, once, Eddie had done him a favour. He didn’t like Eddie, but then Eddie didn’t like him. Affection wasn’t a luxury men like them could afford, as it created inefficient bonds that hampered effective business dealings.

Returning favours was different. Stan owed Eddie, and knew that once this favour was called in, he’d be free of the man.

Stanley didn’t like Wiseman either. He was a lawyer and Stan distrusted lawyers or anyone to do with the legal profession. Wiseman was a tricky man, playing sides whilst it suited him and the money came rolling in. Both men knew that Eddie’s star was waning, and if this venture should fail, Edie’s star would be all but extinguished.

Stan didn’t want to go down for Eddie. Kidnapping wasn’t something that he felt comfortable with, particularly a child under a year old. If he succeeded, then Eddie’s influence would increase, if he failed, both would end up in the dark, brown and pungent.

“I’m going to the pub,” he told his wife, putting on his coat.

He walked out of his flat and down the elevator. Turning left onto City Road, he arrived at the Lord Nelson in fifteen minutes. Lunchtime saw a different crowd than the evenings. A smattering of local City office workers came in for the exotic dancers, though how anyone could think that Rita was exotic any more was beyond him. She’d been ropey ten years ago, and now she was over-weight and about as appealing as a pound of suet.

It must be the novelty factor, because the young men in suits seemed to love her.

Walking up to the bar, he noticed a man sitting on his own in a corner, as far away from the small stage as he could get. He was doing the crossword in his newspaper. Stanley felt relieved when he saw him.

“Orl right, Stan, the usual, mate?” asked Dave, the barman.

“Not bad, Dave. Yeah, the usual and a packet of cheese and onion crisps, please mate.”

He watched the pint of bitter drawn from the keg and licked his lips in anticipation. Dave put the pint on the bar with the packet of crisps.

“Two forty, please.”

He paid Dave and, taking his pint, he went and sat at the next table to the man doing the crossword.

He drank in silence, savouring the ale. Then opening the crisps, he ate as he glanced at the man next to him. The man looked at him.

“Stanley, all right?”

“Yes, thanks, Mr Collins.”

“Keeping clear of trouble?”

“Always, Mr Collins, always.”

The man called Mr Collins smiled, took a sip of his whisky and returned to his crossword. Without looking up, he asked. “What do you know, Stanley?”

“This an’ that, guv’nor, this an’ that.”

“I hear Eddie’s inside.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

“Word is he’s not happy.”

“So I hear.”

Detective Inspector Collins looked up again.

“He’s trouble, that one. The big guns are out to get him.”

“What’re you saying, Mr Collins?”

Collins smiled and took another sip of his whisky.

“How’s Mr Wiseman?” he asked.

Stanley nodded slowly, but his mind was racing. How much did the bastards already know?

“I wouldn’t know, Mr Collins.”

“I hate lawyers, don’t you Stanley?”

Stan nodded and finished his pint.

“I hate bent lawyers even more than straight ones,” the Detective said.

“Are there any straight ones, guv’nor?”

Collins smiled again.

“Good question, Stanley, I very much doubt it,” Collins said, draining his drink. “I hear the OSS is after Mr Wiseman.”

Stanley frowned.

“The OSS is the Law Society’s head hunters,” Collins said, helping him out.

“Oh.”

“Another?” Collins asked, standing up.

“Yeah, ta. Pint of best.”

He watched the policeman go to the bar and buy another whisky and a pint. He had known Collins since he’d been a Detective Constable fifteen years ago. Most lunchtimes saw him in the Lord Nelson and most lunchtimes someone was talking to him. He never sought out anyone, if you wanted to talk to him, he’d be there and always listened. Stan had used him a couple of times and trusted him more than most coppers. He’d even managed to get some informant’s fees for some information about a gang of muggers he’d passed information about.

The man returned and put the pint down.

“Ta.”

Collins picked up the paper and ignored Stanley.

Stanley made a decision.

“Funny you should mention Wiseman, he called me earlier,” he said.

Collins didn’t look up. “Oh yes?”

“It seems he wants a small favour done for our mutual friend.”

Collins looked up.

“Go on.”

“Well, it seems he’s pissed off with someone and wants a small job done.”

* * *

Robert Wiseman left his office at five o’clock and made for the underground station at Bethnal Green. He lived at South Woodford, only a five-minute walk from the station, so it was a simple journey. He read his Evening Standard on the way, having to stand for the first few stops.

He got off the train at his stop, buttoning up his coat as he left the station and found it raining.

“Mr Wiseman.”

He stopped, turning to see who was calling him.

He felt nervous; relaxing when he saw it was only Stan Butcher.

“What do you want?” he asked, testily.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s not my idea and I’m not happy talking about it here.”

“It’s all right for Eddie, he’s already inside, he’s got fuck all to lose. If I get caught it’s fucking ten to fourteen years!”

“I can’t very well tell him you won’t do it. You know what he’s like?”

“Yeah, but a kid, shit, it’s not right. No one does that anymore.”

“It wasn’t my decision. He wants the Williamson kid snatched. How you do it doesn’t matter. Just do it. Then call me and I’ll set up the ransom demands. That way there’s no direct contact with you and the mark.”

“Eddie’s going down anyway, why should I?”

“I understand you owe him?”

“Yeah, but not to the tune of fourteen years!”

“Look he’s got us both, me for money, and you through a favour. Just do it!”

Stan nodded and moved away, down into the station. Wiseman turned and made his way home. He opened the small front gate to his detached house and walked towards the front door.

“Shitty night, Mr Wiseman!” said a voice.

The creeping tendrils of dread plucked at Wiseman’s heart. He knew, with a certainty born out of experience, that the game, if that is what it was, was finally over.

He turned towards the voice.

Detective Inspector Collins walked slowly from the shadows. He was a tall man, slightly overweight, but still in his thirties and still looking very good at what he did. He wore a light brown mid-length coat and no hat. Both men knew each other.

Wiseman tried the bluff.

“Mr Collins, you may be at work, but I’m not. If you wish to talk to me about a professional matter, please call my secretary and arrange an appointment.”

“Bollocks Robert, but you’re right, I am at work. For what I’m here for, I don’t need an appointment. You see, I don’t need a lawyer, but you do!”

Robert Wiseman was arrested and led to a waiting police car. Collins watched the car drive away, and then turning, he returned to his plain car parked up the road a short distance. He got in; Stanley took off the wire, handing it back to Collins.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to give evidence?” he asked.

“He’ll squeal and go for the deal. He’s in the shit and he knows it.”

“Eddie’s got other people, he could still get things done,” Stanley said.

“Like?”

“His brother Frank, he gets out next month.”

“Oh yes, I was forgetting Frank. Eight years for armed Robbery, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think Frank will be a problem. After all, he’s done his time and he won’t want to go back this quickly.”

“Will Wiseman know I shopped him?”

“I don’t know, possibly. Is that a problem?”

“It could be if Eddie finds out.”

“He’ll be more afraid of Eddie than you are. If he’s got any brains, he’ll have kept a file on Eddie to use as insurance. All we do is make sure Eddie finds out about that!”

“You’re a bastard really, aren’t you, Mr Collins?”

“It takes one to know one, Stanley.”

To Be Continued...

Kudos

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True Confessions

Okay! Okay! You got me. I couldn't wait. There was this posting delay, see, and ....

What am I talking about? I read ahead! That's what. I couldn't resist. *sigh*

Okay. Enough silliness.

I love this chapter! What a zap! Simon(e) is back. Woo hoo!

I know. I know. I'm not making much sense. You readers will just have to take my word for it that this story is great fun and read it. :p

Thanks and please keep it coming. I've read quite a bit beyond this part but I'll keep leaving comments. It deserves comments.

Last bit .... Eddie! Grrrr!! Ack!! Urk!! *pace* *pace* *fume* *fume*

Eddie needs a zap. *giggle*

- Terry

Well up to your usual standard

Tanya, apart from the way you describe places, people and situations, I just love the way you manage to keep more than one plot running throughout your stories. I agree with Terry; if you haven't yet been tempted to read Tanya's work, then do yourself a favour and try them. If you like a good, riveting yarn, they don't come much better than this.

Susie

Weird Wednesday Chapters 16 - 20

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True Confessions

Well up to your usual standard

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