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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The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. 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 1
 
 
“Come in, Vanessa. Thanks for coming at such short notice,” said Headmaster Jacob Carter, opening the door to his private study. He was a tall, avuncular man, wearing a tweed suit and a concerned expression on his craggy sixtyish face.

Vanessa Williamson looked upset and embarrassed. Well she might, as to be summoned by the Headmaster on a Wednesday, to one’s child’s boarding school, was unusual and upsetting at the best of times.

The fact that Vanessa was suffering the after affects of a particularly acrimonious divorce was bad enough, so she needed this like a kick in the teeth.

She smiled weakly on entering the Head’s study. She was a tall, slim woman in her mid-thirties, yet still strikingly attractive. Having recently had to return to work as a solicitor’s secretary, she was appropriately dressed in a smart dark suit of a skirt, jacket and cream blouse. Her auburn hair was cut to a mid to short bob style to facilitate her getting ready in the mornings. She wore discreet makeup and two diamond studs gleamed from her earlobes.

She sat, smoothed her skirt and crossed her legs. Jacob Carter noted her shapely legs and swallowed. He also saw that she had removed her wedding ring. These cases were always difficult and he was well aware of Vanessa’s current domestic difficulties.

“How are you, Vanessa?” he asked.

“What’s he done, Jacob?” she said, straight to the point. She looked tired and not a little upset.

“Well, it’s a little more complex than that.” Jacob was trying to pick his words carefully. Diplomacy was an awkward business, particularly when dealing with a highly-strung and protective mother.

“Look, Jacob, don’t bugger me about. I just managed to squeeze the school fees out of that bastard Richard, so I really can’t afford to spend time word fencing with you. I’ve taken time off work, so I can actually do with out this just now. What’s he done and what the hell can we do about it?”

Jacob gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Vanessa, he hasn’t actually done anything. There’s the problem, for Simon is a very bright and emotionally mature boy for his age, but he is still only thirteen. Events have affected him so deeply that he has become so withdrawn that we can’t seem to get through to him. He was always a quiet boy, but recently he’s withdrawn into a shell and hasn’t spoken for several days. I don’t think he’s eaten and he never appears to sleep. Matron has him in sickbay, but he just sits on his bed staring out the window. The doctor has seen him this morning and wants to involve a child psychologist, so that is why you’re here.”

It was Simon Williamson’s first term at this school, Ketterham Court, and he’d been here just six weeks. A year ago, he was a happy and contented lad, in the top group at his Prep school and with two parents in an apparently solid relationship. Private boarding school had been Richard’s idea, despite Vanessa having reservations, Simon seemed to thrive and enjoy school. At any rate, he used to.

Then, over Christmas, of all times, his father announced he was leaving Vanessa, as he’d found someone else. To add insult to injury, this new woman was allegedly expecting his child. The affair had been going on for three years, with Vanessa as surprised and shocked as anyone.

Richard had moved out two days before Christmas, thereby completely devastating the small family he left behind. The pair of them had cried together under a Christmas tree, with presents for their father/husband lying unopened.

He’d admitted adultery, so the divorce had gone through quickly. However, he’d immediately left Britain with his woman for New Zealand, making the financial settlement difficult at best, and downright impossible at worst. He’d liquidised all assets, despite the judge ordering him to leave assets in the UK in order to pay Vanessa a fixed income of thirty thousand a year until Simon was twenty-one; and twenty thousand a year thereafter. She retained the house, but the judge ordered him to pay the mortgage. By selling everything and leaving the country, he made life as difficult as possible for Vanessa. In the end, she had to fly to New Zealand with legal papers, and instruct a local solicitor to deal with them, taking him to court there to seize assets.

Richard fought every inch of the way, and still reneged on the agreements, despite courts in the UK and New Zealand making judgments in Vanessa’s favour. The solicitors in both countries were working on it, but it was a slow and expensive process. He hadn’t paid the mortgage for six months, so Vanessa had to negotiate a twelve-month suspension of payments in order to attempt to prise some assets from her ex-husband.

These events affected Simon deeply, as his father had clearly shown that he couldn’t care less for him. All through the hard times, Vanessa had shared her feelings with him, unaware that it had the effect of making him grow up prematurely. On the outside, he was still a thirteen year-old with spots, but inside he was almost an adult. Vanessa had cuddled the boy for many a night, more for her benefit than her son’s, and the lad had silently sworn he would make his father pay.

Vanessa also hated the man in so many ways, but just couldn’t seem to find the energy to continue the fight. The single thing that kept her going was her son, and if it wasn’t for him, she have given up and done something foolish.

As his mother was seeing Mr Carter, Simon was staring out the window. He’d found how to detach himself from the real world, and at this moment was in a sort of nether world of his own making.

He hated his father so much that the hate had taken over his very being. He’d seen how devastated his mother was, and he just couldn’t forgive his Dad for that. He felt personally betrayed and despised, and wanted to make his father pay. Oh, he wanted his father to pay!

Simon was a slight boy, good looking, but physically an immature thirteen year-old. His short hair was auburn with natural light brown highlights, his eyes were blue/grey and he was exchanging freckles for spots. He was a normal, insecure thirteen year old, who had recently managed to collect many more insecurities than normal.

With all his heart, he wanted to be an adult. An adult could travel the world, do things he couldn’t do, so he was angry over his inability to control things. He hated being small and relatively weak; it frustrated him beyond measure. His saw the pain his mother was going through, and understood why tired she was of fighting. He saw how weakened by events she was and he wanted to help her. Inside, he felt he was stronger than she was, particularly as he saw how much she was hurting.

Over the past few days, he was so obsessed with thinking of how he could make his father pay that he’d hardly seen the adults come and go. He heard them, but chose to ignore them. He allowed himself to be taken wherever they wanted him to go, he simply didn’t talk to them. They wouldn’t and couldn’t understand.

Someone entered into his field of vision. He moved slightly, so to maintain sight of that bent and twisted twig at the top of the chestnut tree outside his window.

“Simon, it’s Mummy,” a familiar voice said. He reluctantly focussed on his mother’s worried face. He was angry. Why had they called her? Didn’t they realise she’d suffered enough?

“Simon, sweetie, it’s Mummy. Please speak to me.”

“I hate him!” he said, and he watched as the tears welled up in his mother’s blue eyes. He thought his mother was beautiful, and she didn’t deserve what she was going through.

“I’m sorry. I just hate him so much!” he repeated.

His mother enveloped him with a hug, and they broke down together. The matron left them alone. She was pleased the lad had spoken, but was seriously worried about his mental state, nevertheless.

Vanessa agreed to take Simon home. School was not the place for him at this time, so she assured them she would take him to the family doctor, and attempt some counselling. They advised her to attempt to obtain a child psychologist’s assessment.

She drove in silence. Simon stared out of the window, his face expressionless and eyes vacant.

Finally, she became bored of the heavy silence.

“Why, Simon? You know how hard everything is at the moment?”

“I’m sorry. I hate him so much. I just want him to pay!”

“So do I sweetie, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“It should! He should be made to suffer the way you’re suffering.”

Vanessa smiled a very sad smile.

“I agree, but life is tough enough, just getting through every day as it comes is almost more than I can bear.”

“I feel useless, just stuck in school, unable to get out and do anything.”

“Honestly, Simon, if only I could be your age again, just stuck in school without a care in the world. I’d give anything to be able to stop the world and get off. You have no idea how difficult my life is at the moment, I really don’t need you throwing a wobbly.”

Simon looked at his mother and then looked away, feeling guilty. He adored his mother, and it hurt him deeply to see her like this. Normally so full of fun and laughter, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled properly.

It was a wet November day, and Vanessa was trying to work out how she was going to arrange everything, stay working and look after Simon all at the same time. Her mind was only partially concentrating on driving.

The A40 was busy, the road was wet and the wind was picking up. Spray made visibility poor and driving conditions worsened by the minute. She was heading towards down into Oxfordshire from Stokenchurch. At this point, the road was simply one lane in each direction, twisting round the steep hill. They had just reached the bottom, and were travelling along a relatively straight bit of road.

Travelling the other way was a removal lorry. Colin Granger was sixty-one and overweight. He was eating a sausage roll while he was driving. They’d just completed a long distance move, so were driving back to the depot with an empty truck. It had been a long day, as they’d set out from the depot at five in the morning.

The Coroner’s report was uncertain as to the exact order of the chain of events, but it seems the strong gust of wind occurred at about the same time as the first chest pains.

Whatever started it, Colin jerked the steering wheel, dropping the half-eaten sausage roll, causing the van to veer across into the oncoming carriageway. Stuart Hall, in the cab with Colin, realised what was happening, grabbed the wheel, and tried to restore the original course of direction. The wet road aggravated the situation.

Colin, gripped by another agonising chest pain, let go of the steering wheel and slumped forward, thereby making Stuart’s attempts to control the large vehicle even more difficult.

Vanessa had little time to react. She saw a large high-sided van heading directly for her. As with many drivers, she immediately panicked and jammed her foot on the brake, causing the car to skid off the road and down the grass embankment. The front of the car embedded itself into the water-filled ditch.

Stuart just managed to keep the truck on the road, but it started to fishtail sideways, as Colin’s foot was firmly stuck on the accelerator. Stuart knocked the gears into neutral, pulling the handbrake on at the same time.

The truck slewed ninety degrees sideways, taking out a telegraph pole and an electricity pole as it went, leaving the road and almost toppling over as it hit the verge, but coming to a standstill in the upright position, although blocking the road. The electricity pole fell and the live wires entered the ditch.

Sparks flew everywhere, and horrified onlookers watched as a blue arc seemed to leap from the damaged junction box onto the top of the BMW in the ditch.

Cars were abandoned as people rushed to help. Horrified onlookers called the police and the ambulance service, while chaos descended on this small section of rural highway.

PC Ron Fitton and his partner PC Sue Howell were in a traffic car, call sign TM91. They were assigned to the serious injury accident on the A40, and made with all possible speed - siren wailing and blue lights flashing.

Arriving at the scene, they saw two ambulances already there. A harassed paramedic came over to them.

“There are three casualties at least. I think the driver of the truck is having a heart attack and is in a very bad way. There are two people in the BMW, a mother and son by the look of it. The truck had knocked the power lined into the ditch, and it may have electrocuted them. I’ve the air ambulance helicopter coming, but there’s a good chance they may all die!”

A fire truck arrived, and disgorged five fire fighters. One of them started removing the cutting equipment from the side of the truck.

Ron immediately called for back up and a supervisor, stating that they had possible three 10/10s (deaths). Giving the index of both vehicles, the two officers put their hats and coats on and went to try to sort it out.

The police closed the road, so all the other drivers grumbled but turned round to attempt to find alternative routes to their intended destinations.

Sue approached the BMW, noting the wires, and hesitated in touching the water. Two fire fighters stood next to her, looking relieved.

“We won’t need the cutting equipment. It looks like you’ll be able to open this one without any problem,” the senior one said.

A call on the radio ensured the electricity company had switched that circuit off so, using rubber gloves, she opened the car door.

The car wasn’t badly damaged, but the airbags had deployed, protecting the two people in the front seat. The woman had been driving, and a boy, her son presumably, was in the passenger seat. Sue was relieved to see that both were wearing seat belts. She checked the boy’s pulse, and was relieved to find one. She shouted to the paramedics. They were working on the heart attack victim, but at that moment, another ambulance arrived.

It took them a while for the fire fighters to open the driver’s door, but to everyone’s surprise, both casualties were alive but unconscious. The fire fighters removed both casualties carefully, strapping them both to body-boards, and evacuating them by air ambulance to Stoke Mandeville Hospital.

Colin died before they could get him into the ambulance, while Stuart sat shaking in the rear of an ambulance, suffering from severe shock.
 

*          *          *
 
Simon didn’t so much wake up, as become slowly more aware that he was conscious. He smelled he was in hospital before he even opened his eyes. He remembered the big van sliding sideways at the car, and his mother’s screams. There was a horrible bump and a smell of burning plastic, before blissful darkness.

He was reluctant to open his eyes, as it was quite nice in the dark. He suddenly thought of his father, and that made him angry. His anger made him wake up.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at an off-white ceiling with a strip-light. Something was over his face and tubes were attached to his left arm.

A nurse appeared in his field of vision. She was oriental, Chinese or something like that. She was small and pretty.

“Hello. Welcome back, how are you feeling?”

Simon nodded, as he didn’t feel like talking.

“Good. I tell the doctor and she’ll come see you. Is there anything you want?”

Simon shook his head. He felt tired and closed his eyes again.

He became aware that someone was gently shaking his arm. He opened his eyes and saw a white-coated woman. She was about the same age as his mum. She smiled as she saw his eyes open.

“Hello. I’m Doctor Garrett; I’m the duty doctor. You were in an accident. How do you feel?”

Simon tried speaking, and it came out as a mumble. The doctor removed the oxygen.

“Fine, I think.”

“Excellent. You’ve been unconscious for nearly an hour. Do you remember what happened?”

Simon frowned. He thought for a moment. His brain was like fuzzy cotton wool.

“I remember a big truck, skidding and then a ditch. Some burning and then nothing.”

“Well, you were very lucky. It seems the car shorted out the electric shock from some cables, so you and your son were relatively unharmed.”

Simon nodded and then thought about what she said. Son?

Eyes wide open, he exclaimed, “Son?”

“Simon is still unconscious, Mrs Williamson, but he has not suffered any lasting injuries. He’s sustained some bruising due to the seat belt, but his signs are good. I’m expecting him to come round anytime now,” she said.

Simon tried to sit up. The doctor and nurse stopped him.

“Vanessa, please, he’s fine. Just relax and rest. He’s in the next bed to you. Please, just stay still, we’ve monitors and IV drips attached to you. You’ve also got a urinary catheter attached, so if you lie back, we’ll make you more comfortable.”

Simon let them remove the tubes and wires. The removal of the catheter was uncomfortable and unpleasant. His mind was in a whirl. How could they mistake him for his mother?

The nurse pulled back the curtain surrounding the bed and he glanced across to the next bed.

There, looking as if he was asleep was a boy. Despite being attached to monitors, with IV tubes and a mask, the boy looked very like him. In fact, the boy was him! That meant…

Simon glanced at his hands - shaped, red-varnished nails on feminine but adult hands filled his vision. Tentatively, he touched his face and then moved down to his chest.

As soon as he encountered the two mounds of flesh attached to his chest, he realised that he was now the proud owner of a pair of breasts. He looked down, as he cupped them through the hospital gown. They filled his hands and he could feel the large nipples harden as he touched them.

His brain then did what it was designed to do under extreme stress, it shut down, and the woman, who should have been Vanessa Williamson, but wasn’t, fainted.
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
The doctor was concerned, as the patient passed out as soon as the various IV drips and catheter were removed. There was no physical reason for the faint, so she concluded that it was shock and reaction to seeing her son in the next bed. They had decided that it would be better if they were together, but now she questioned that decision.

She needn’t have worried, for the woman came round quite quickly. Her eyes went wide open and seemed filled with tears. The doctor went to some length to calm her down, for some reason she was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Vanessa, it really is all right. Simon is okay. He’s just resting, and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery. When the body goes into shock, the brain often induces unconsciousness to help recovery. So, he’ll be fine, you have to believe me.”

Simon stared at the woman, but heard nothing.

‘I’m in Mum’s body - I’m a woman - Shit! - I’m a woman! - Oh shit, shit, shit. What do I do? I can’t tell anyone, they’ll lock me up, oh shit!’ he thought.

The doctor, noticing her patient was hyperventilating, replaced the oxygen mask over her face.

Simon breathed deeply on the doctor’s instructions and calmed down. His mind was working overtime. He recalled the last thing his mother had said to him, “Honestly, Simon, if only I could be your age again. Just stuck in school without a care in the world. I’d give anything to be able to stop the world and get off! You have no idea how difficult my life is at the moment, I really don’t need you throwing a wobbly!”

He felt a calmness fall over him. This had happened because she had wanted it. It was as if she had been granted a wish. Now she had stopped the world and got off, it was left to him take over and take control.

The doctor was looking worried, so he removed the mask.

“I’m all right now, doctor, honest. I was just so shocked to see him like that.”

The doctor seemed relieved and relaxed.

Simon thought his voice sounded odd. Not like how his mother sounded at all. Then he remembered hearing a tape of his own voice, and that didn’t sound like he thought he sounded either.

“Are you sure?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, positive.”

“Okay. If you need anything, please call the nurse. Just, please, stay in bed for the moment, all right?”

Simon smiled and nodded. It seemed to work, for the woman left him alone.

He lay back against the pillows, coming to terms with his unusual predicament. He felt a strange calmness, particularly as he remembered that he would miss double geography with the demented Mr Cross on Friday Morning. The thought made him smile. The nurse tidied the bed and, with a smile, left too.

Simon looked round cautiously, sliding his hand under the sheet. It went straight to his crotch, where, instead of the small familiar male genitalia, he encountered a crispy collection of pubic hair atop a sensual mound leading to a cleft of soft inviting warmth. He had never touched a vagina before, so it made him quite excited. The feelings he experienced were without equal. He’d experienced two wet dreams in his short life, and had masturbated to a satisfactory conclusion on perhaps five occasions. They had been rather depressing and non-events, but as he stroked his new equipment, his entire inner being seemed to glow.

He stopped, feeling guilty that he was using his mother’s body for such a selfish purpose, but then let his hand feel his breasts.

Once more, as soon as he touched them, the nipples hardened and grew. They were so sensitive, and he felt his vagina tingle and swell. The guilt returned, so he ceased his exploration.

Feeling breathless and confused, he glanced at the boy in the adjacent bed - the boy wearing his body, but without his mind. The lad looked calm and peaceful, so Simon smiled. That’s what his mother had wanted, to stop the world and get off. He wondered how the switch had taken place.

He watched as a middle-aged couple came in to visit an elderly lady in the bed opposite. He assumed one of them must be her son or daughter. He watched the younger woman. She was around forty-five, and still had a reasonable figure. Simon thought her hair was rather too short, and her clothes were on the frumpy side, but then, Vanessa was exceptionally sharp. He smiled, as he looked at another visitor as she entered the ward. This one was younger, in her twenties, but didn’t do the best with her hair. Simon thought his mum was the most beautiful woman in the world. He’d watched her dress so often that he thought he could copy her even without thinking.

They were closer than most mothers and sons. Richard was a projects manager for a petroleum company. His job took him all over the world, so he had often been away from home for extended periods. He knew his mother had wanted more children, but Richard had always thought that one was the perfect number.

Vanessa had fallen pregnant when Simon was four. One minute she was ecstatically happy and then, the next minute she was in the pits of depression. Now he knew it was a miscarriage, but then Simon thought his father had stopped her having the baby for some reason.

Richard had always been distant and rather the stranger to his son. As a result, Simon worshipped his mother and faintly distrusted his often-absent father. This new baby with his mistress was just another hurtful reason to hate him.

Sexually, he had been a normal thirteen year old. He had dreams of representing his country in a major sport, and he dreamed of beautiful girls finding him irresistible. He had never imagined, hoped or dreamed he would ever be a beautiful woman, but now he was, he felt curiously detached and somewhat interested.

In his last year at prep school, he’d taken on the female lead in the school play. He’d loved the experience, and modelled his role on his mother. Every nuance, expression and gesture he based on his memory of his mother, and everyone was amazed at his plausibility.

It wasn’t so much he was no longer a thirteen year-old boy and was now female, but the fact he was a grown up that interested him most. As a grown up, he could do grown up things. Being a woman was incidental, or at this particular time, it was. Over the next few weeks, it would become anything but! His mind started to formulate possible plans.

He must have dozed off, for someone talking to him, brought consciousness back.

He opened his eyes and saw Roz Graham peering at him.

“Oh, my God! Vanessa, you poor love, how are you, my dear?”

Roz was his mother’s friend and confidant. Simon liked her, but thought she was over-the-top with just about everything.

He almost called her Aunt Roz, as she liked to be called. She was also Simon’s godmother and was about as scatty as one could get

“Hi Roz, I’m fine, just battered a bit,” he said, smiling as he thought he sounded more like his mother this time.

Roz was the same age as Vanessa and they’d been friends ever since Richard and Vanessa had moved into their house in the village of Little Milton, near Watlington, in Oxfordshire, fifteen years ago now. She had been a ballet dancer in her younger days. Now, she taught ballet, music and dance at a girls’ school at Stadhampton.

She was another who had kept her slim and youthful figure. Richard had always referred to her as ‘the stick-insect’, and because his father hadn’t liked her, Simon thought she was quite nice. She had a daughter called Alicia, some six months younger than Simon, and a son, Neville, who was nine.

Roz could talk for Britain, but once started, took physical violence to stop.

“I only heard by accident, Stephen was travelling past the scene, he was at some bloody conference centre up near Aylesbury, Aston Clinton or some such place. Anyway, when he saw a BMW being put on the back of a truck, and loads of police taking measurements. He told me that a car like yours was being removed and I called you at home. Then I remembered you had an appointment with Simon’s headmaster, and worked out that it could have been you. Oh, my God, Simon! What happened to Simon?”

Simon/Vanessa started slightly, surprised at Roz’s sudden cessation of drivel.

“He was in the car too. He’s in the next bed,” he said, glancing at his former self.

Roz turned and gasped.

“Oh, the poor lamb. Is he alright?” she said, standing up and going over to the other bed. She bent over and gently moved some hair that was lying across the unconscious boy’s face. He looked ever so peaceful.

“He looks asleep, is he badly hurt?” Roz asked.

“The doctors don’t seem worried. I spoke to one a little while ago, and she told me that he’s a little bruised, as I am, but still unconscious. They think it might be a sort of mental reaction to recent events. It could be he just wants to stop the world and get off. Jacob, his Headmaster, said he was withdrawn and behaving very strangely. I suppose the divorce and everything has just become too much for the poor little chap.”

Simon felt a curious sensation as he spoke. It was as if he was becoming his mother. He could ‘feel’ that he had the right inflection in the voice, and he ‘felt’ that the hand and wrist movements were hers. As if to prove it, he felt his arm and hand, follow an almost familiar movement of flicking some hair away from the face.

Every moment he spent being her, he knew he was becoming more like her. It was as if he inherited an instinct as to what was truly of her.

“Aren’t you worried about him?” Roz asked.

“Of course I am, but what can I do? We’re in hospital, the doctors seem happy and I feel like shit myself. Oh, Roz, I’m tired, pissed off, and so fucking depressed, I don’t know anything anymore. Simon’s been so dreadfully unhappy, so what do you think I feel like? My world ends and I have to keep going when all I want to do is stop. I don’t blame Simon at all, for if I could, I’d curl up and sleep for six years, if I thought it would help.”

“It won’t though, love, will it?” Roz asked.

The woman who used to be Simon shook her head.

“No, Roz, it bloody won’t. This is that bastard’s entire fault. Oh, God, I wish I could make him suffer!”

Roz shook her head sadly. She had always disliked Richard, but stayed on good terms for her friend’s sake. Even so, she was shocked and surprised when he did the dirty deed, and such timing! How could anyone do that to his family just before Christmas? She came back and sat in the chair next to her friend. She reached out and took her hand.

“I’d castrate the bugger and then make him work in a brothel,” she said, and was pleased to see Vanessa smile.

“That’s far too good for him. I’d cut his prick off and then put him in a brothel, while framing him for some offence for which he’d get a good ten years inside. Imagine being a man with no prick inside a men only prison. I’d love to see him become some big bastard’s bitch!”

Roz stared at her friend. The venom with which she said that was almost tangible.

“Sorry Roz, I must seem a little bitter.”

“With just cause, my love, with just cause. Seriously, how are you?” she asked, her face grave and caring.

Without meaning to, Vanessa started to cry, and as the woman inside, and her hormones, took over. Simon was confused, but with the tears came a measure of release.

“Oh Roz, I’m so bloody miserable. My life was so good. A lovely home, a man I adored and a son who was bright and so talented. Now, what have I got? My darling son’s in a coma, the house I’ll have to sell so we can eat. A job I don’t want but have to have, because the man I adored is fucking another woman and left me with nothing. How do you think I bloody well feel?”

“Thank God, for a moment I thought you’d banged your head. At least you’re normal,” Roz said, and despite her feelings, the new Vanessa smiled.

“Thanks for being you, Roz, you always were my best friend!”

“Think nothing of it. When Stephen finally leaves me for his mistress, I’ll come and drink your gin!”

“Stephen’s got a mistress?”

“Oh God, I hope so. Otherwise he’d want to screw me twice a night!”

The pair dissolved into laughter, and the nurse glanced over with some relief.

The figure stirring in the adjacent bed cut short their laughter. The boy moved and groaned. Simon/Vanessa stared with heart racing.

Would she come round? If she did, would she remember who she was?

Would she start screaming and insist she was Vanessa Williamson?

Would they swap back?

Could they swap back?

Was he stuck like this forever?

Would they lock both of them away for being loony?

The nurse noticed the movement and was there like a shot. The boy settled down, and seemed to be asleep. The nurse summoned the doctor, and they drew the curtain around the bed.

Roz kept a tight hold of her friend’s hand.

“It’s going to be alright, Nessa, really it is,” she said.

Simon liked that name, so decided that from that moment on, that’s who he would be.(Author’s note: For the sake of the story, Simon is now Nessa and I will use ‘she’ and ‘her’ in respect of her.)

After what appeared to be an age, the nurse drew back the curtains, and the boy was still lying as if asleep.

Doctor Garrett came over to Vanessa’s bed.

“He’s in a very shallow level of unconsciousness. More like a sleep than anything else. Do you know if he was under any stress?”

Nessa laughed, as did Roz. Roz answered.

“My dear girl, this poor woman and her boy have had the shittiest year. First, a few days before last Christmas, her husband and his father announced that he was leaving, which has made life hellish ever since. That poor boy, and my friend here, has suffered more stress that you or I will ever experience!”

“That could explain things. Simon’s signs are very positive, but I believe his coma is stress induced. The scans and x-rays are clear, so there is no trauma causing it. I have experience of these sorts of cases, and sometimes the comas last several days, even a week or two. But the fact that he has already been restless is a good sign.”

“How long need I be kept in here?” Nessa asked.

“I’d like you to stay in overnight. The fact you were unconscious for a while gives us a little concern, so we’d like to keep an eye on you for twenty-four hours.”

“I need to sort out the car and things. God, I need this like a kick in the teeth,” Nessa felt she was playing a role, just like at school, and by the way Roz accepted her, she was succeeding. She felt a small bubble of excitement well up deep within her, but had to bite her lip to prevent a smile from breaking out.

“Nessa, would you like me to bring in some clothes and pick you up in the morning?”

“Oh, would you, Roz? Otherwise I could get a taxi.”

“I’ve still got a key, so I’ll bring you some clothes and then help you sort out the car.”

“Oh, Roz, I don’t have a clue what to do. Richard would have sorted all thins kind of thing out.”

“I’ll ask Stephen to give you a hand. This sort of thing is beyond me too.”

“Excuse me, Mrs Williamson?” said a male voice.

Nessa looked up and saw a police officer standing at the end of her bed.

“Yes.”

“I’m PC Ron Fitton. I’m the Traffic Officer investigating the accident. Is it possible I could speak to you about what happened?” he said.

“I’ll go and get you some clothes and stuff. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?” Roz said.

“Thanks Roz, you are a love!”

Roz kissed her friend and stroked the sleeping boy’s cheek before walking out of the ward.

PC Fitton came and sat next to the bed. He had a blue A4 folding clipboard in his hand, which he opened as he sat down.

“I’m sorry to come at a time like this. The doctor has explained that your son is still unconscious, so if this is a bad time, I can do this tomorrow, or at another time.”

“No, now’s as good a time as any. I’m probably not much use, as I don’t remember much.”

“My colleague and I attended the scene, and were there when you were both removed from your car, but I have to ask some basic questions, just for the record. Were you driving the BMW, index FZ 03 MJK, at the time of the accident?”

“No, my thirteen year old son was,” she said, testily, and then felt sorry. “I’m sorry, yes, of course.”

“I understand, but as I said, I do have to ask these questions. Please tell me exactly what you remember of the accident.”

“There was a big lorry, a removal van or something. It was coming straight at us. It was going to hit us, so I panicked, braked and swerved off the road. I remember hitting a ditch, loads of sparks and then a smell of burning. I must have blacked out then.” Nessa was pleased she didn’t have to change much. As far as the world was concerned, this was the absolute truth. No one would believe she wasn’t really Vanessa Williamson, in any case.

“Did you get a look at the driver of the lorry?”

“No, I was so scared the lorry was going to hit us. I do remember it was big and blue, that’s all. My only son was with me; I was so frightened. Was anyone else hurt?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Williamson, the driver of the lorry died. We suspect he had a heart attack at the wheel, and that’s what caused the accident. One thing - if you hadn’t swerved off the road, the lorry would have hit you, and at that speed, you would both probably have been killed.”

Nessa looked across as the unconscious boy.

Thanks Mum! She said silently.

“I’m sorry, but do you have your driver’s licence and insurance with you?”

Nessa stared at him.

“Oh, I don’t know. Um, maybe, in my handbag. But, I don’t know where it is.”

“I’ll ask the nurse, excuse me a minute.”

The officer left her, returning a few minutes later with the nurse.

“Mrs Williamson, your belongings are in the locker by your bed. The ambulance flew you in, and your bag was with you.”

She opened the locker, and there was the bag, together with all the clothes and jewellery that Vanessa had been wearing.

The nurse handed her the handbag, and Nessa opened it. She rummaged through it, and found herself holding a tampon. She blushed, and then looked in the side pocket.

“Here, is that it?” she asked, handing over the licence and a folded A4 sheet of paper.

The officer looked at them both, made a few notes on his sheet, and returned them.

“That’s fine, thanks.”

Nessa replaced the items, and put the bag down.

“The car, how bad is it?” she asked.

“It’s not as bad as some I’ve seen. You were lucky the ground was so wet, only superficial damage to the front and the tracking may be out. A few hundred quid in the body shop, and it should be right as rain, as long as the electrics are all right. There were reports of blue sparks and burning.”

“I remember them. Where is it?”

“Because it was a fatal accident, the car was recovered to Studley Green. We will examine it in the morning, but actually, as there was no contact between your vehicle and the lorry, you can have it removed to your own repairer as soon after that as you want; say noon onwards. I’ve spoken to the removal company, and their insurance will accept full liability.”

“What do I do now? I’ve never had an accident before.”

The officer smiled.

“On your certificate is a phone number. Give the number against the claims section a ring. Explain what has happened, and let them take care of the rest. This card tells you all the information you need for them. The name of the deceased driver, the van details and company name and telephone number are all there, together with the insurance company details, the time and location of the accident. My name and shoulder number is at the bottom.”

Nessa took the card, and was genuinely grateful. Suddenly living in an adult world seemed rather more daunting than she had first thought.
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
The policeman had left about an hour ago, so Nessa pretended to doze to give her time to think.

There was a lot to think about, and most of it was quite disconcerting. She could not see any way back to her original body, so felt slightly cheated. Mum was thirty-five, which meant she was now twenty-two years older, in a blink, literally. She glanced over to the boy, and noticed he was restless, on the verge of waking up, perhaps.

She dreaded that happening, for mother had been so highly strung, finding herself in his body would tip her over the edge. Nessa realised that even though it had been a matter of a few hours, she thought herself as a woman, and not as a boy trapped inside his mother’s body. She smiled, as it was quite nice really - being treated as a grown-up. However, she was under no illusions, this was going to be tricky and fraught with danger.

She picked up the handbag and emptied the contents onto the bed. The driving licence was particularly exciting, and yet alarming at the same time. Simon had only driven the odd old banger around on farms, so Nessa was now allowed to drive, yet knew it would be irresponsible and dangerous if she did so.

There were some cosmetics, tampons, keys, tissues, a brush and comb, a purse containing cash and credit cards, and loads of bits and pieces. She took out a tampon and stared at it, turning it over in her hand.

Suddenly, life had become more complex.

‘I have to stick this up me?’ she asked herself. ‘Urgh!’

She looked at one of the credit cards, particularly at the signature on the back. Using a pen, she practised writing the signature a few times, finding it easy.

She was replacing the articles into the bag when a well-dressed man came up to her. She recognised him as being Trevor Goodman, the senior partner of Goodman, Kettle and Ffolkes, the solicitors for whom Vanessa worked. He was a big man in his early sixties, with florid complexion and grey hair swept back. He was wearing a dark pinstripe suit with a pink shirt.

“Vanessa, my love, what a terrible thing. How are you?” His voice was over-cultured and slightly pompous as lawyers tended to be.

“Still alive, Trevor, just.”

The man looked towards the boy in the other bed.

“And poor Simon too, is he okay?”

“They don’t know. He’s still unconscious. They think he should come round soon, but it’s all very worrying.”

“I’m sure it is. We got a call from your friend Roz Graham, so I thought I’d pop down and see how thing were.”

Nessa told him all about the accident, that the car was now somewhere, giving him the card the policeman had given her.

Trevor looked at it.

“Would you like me to sort out the car for you?”

“Would you? That would be wonderful. Richard dealt with all that sort of thing, so I don’t even know where to start. I just renewed the insurance when it came through.” She delved into the handbag and dug out the insurance certificate, handing it over as well.

“Don’t worry about work. Just you get better and come back when you feel like it. You’ve had so much bad luck recently, so the last thing you need to worry about is a job.”

Nessa felt gratitude flood through her, and found herself crying again. It confused her, as women seemed to cry a lot more than she realised.

Trevor seemed embarrassed, so took out a large red spotted handkerchief and blew his nose to cover his feelings. Nessa found the sight so silly she stopped crying and started to giggle, changing it into a cough at the last moment.

He stayed for a few more minutes, obviously feeling awkward and was relieved when a nurse appeared to see to her patients. Kissing Vanessa gently on the cheek, he bade her farewell and felt quite hurriedly.

“He seems a nice man,” the nurse, Lucy, said.

“Yes, he’s my boss. He’s a lovely man but not really at home here.”

“Who is?” Lucy asked and smiled.

Lucy checked Simon, and noted some findings on the chart at the end of the bed.

“How is he?” Nessa asked.

“Everything seems normal, except he isn’t awake. Has he been restless?”

“Very, why?”

“That’s a good sign. I think he’ll come round very soon.”

“Good!” Nessa said, but feeling less than enthusiastic. She wanted her mother to be okay, but stay out of things for a while. She envisioned real traumas when the woman finally came round and discovered her predicament.

A woman in a green coverall came and gave Nessa a cup of tea, so she was amazed to find out it was only five in the afternoon.

She then realised that her bladder needed emptying.

Cursing softly, she sat up, feeling slightly dizzy for a moment. Allowing the spell to pass, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and, holding onto the bed, she stood up.

Her hair swept past her ears and rested on the back of her neck. She also felt the weight of her breasts on her chest. They were quite firm and didn’t sag, but there was a wobble and movement that was unexpected and disconcerting. They were odd sensations, but she smiled. In a day of odd sensations, what were a couple more?

She let go of the bed and realised the gown was open all down the back. There was a hospital robe draped across the end of the bed, so she put it on, reluctant to show her new bum off to the world.

She walked up the ward, where she met Lucy coming the other way.

“Are you all right, Vanessa?” the girl asked.

“Fine, I need to go to the loo, that’s all.”

Lucy took her and showed her where it was. Gratefully, Nessa shut the door, lifted her clothing and sat down on the toilet. The experience wasn’t that different, it just sprayed instead of streaming in a jet. Vanessa rarely shut the loo door when having a pee, so Nessa knew to wipe herself.

She finished, washed her hands and stared at the odd reflection in the mirror. It was very peculiar looking at your own mother from the inside.

‘Can I do this?’ she asked her reflection, and had a conversation with herself.

‘Why not? No one knows any different, how difficult can it be?’

‘But there’s so much to understand, and I don’t know where to start.’

‘Take things one-step at a time. You’ve managed up to now with no problem, and people are falling over to help you!’

‘But I’m a woman!’

‘So? How hard can it be? If Mum managed so can you.’

‘Mum had a lifetime to get it right; I’ve been a girl for less than a day.’

‘Mum lost her husband, so she fucked up big time, so even adults don’t get things right.’

‘It wasn’t Mum’s fault.’

‘She should never have married him in the first place, so she fucked up then.’

“That’s not fair, she was in love and he was probably different then.’

‘He was always a lying cheating bastard, it’s just he managed to hide it for fifteen years.’

‘If they hadn’t married, they’d never have had me.’

‘True.’

Nessa noted her hair was a mess, and without makeup, she was looking tired and drawn.

‘Oh, so we’re suddenly an expert on makeup?’

‘It can’t be that hard, I’ve seen Mum do it so often, I should be able to manage.’

‘This I have to see!’

She washed her face, and decided she was actually feeling better. She took off the robe and gown and stared down at her body. It was so alien and different, that she suddenly felt out of her depth again.

Running her hands over the curving contours, she liked the soft and firm feel of it. She was grateful that Vanessa went to the gym regularly and kept fit. It was the shape that surprised Nessa most. As Simon he knew that Mum was a different shape, but now, seeing the naked body he’d taken for granted for so long, she appreciated how different that shape was.

The waist was slim, and yet the hips and bum were larger. Firm muscles, lithe rather than chunky, gave her arms and legs good definition without losing any elegance. Standing five foot eight in bare feet, she was quite tall for a woman. Simon always thought her a very attractive woman, and now Nessa thought Richard was a very stupid man.

She dressed and left the loo, making her way back. As she got close to her bed, she realised that Simon was sitting staring at her with shock on his face.

She forced herself to smile.

“Oh, good you’re awake at last. How are you feeling?”

“You…you…you’re me!” the boy gasped, eyes looking panic-stricken and pointing at her with a very shaky hand.

Nessa looked round the ward and relaxed, no one was looking. She sat on his bed, and took hold of the shaky hand.

“Yes, SIMON dear, I’m you and you’re me. But, unless you want them to lock us away and chuck the key in the Thames, you have to say nothing. I don’t know how it happened, but somehow you got your wish!” she whispered at him.

“M..m…my wish?”

“Don’t you remember the last thing you said to me, just before the crash?”

“Huh?”

“The last thing you said to me was: - “Honestly, Simon, if only I could be your age again. Just stuck in school without a care in the world. I’d give anything to be able to stop the world and get off! You have no idea how difficult my life is at the moment, I really don’t need you throwing a wobbly!” Don’t you remember?”

The boy stared at her, a frown creasing his young face.

“I didn’t mean it!” he said.

“Mean it or not, it’s happened, and I don’t think this is in any medical book, so we keep quiet about it until we can work out what to do. I’m not exactly thrilled to lose twenty-two years of my life and my willy as well!”

“Oh my God!” the boy said, and thrust both hands down the front of the hospital pyjamas. His face drained of colour and he fell back against the pillows in a dead faint.

Nessa smiled, shook her head and waited for him to come round again. He wasn’t long.

Vanessa looked at the woman wearing her body, horror on the boy’s face.

“How?”

“I don’t know. There was electricity arcing through the water onto the car, so it must have been something to do with that. But, it is so important that you pretend that nothing’s wrong, otherwise it’s the loony bin for both of us!”

Dumbly the boy shook his head, inside of which, Vanessa was unable to think straight. At that moment, Doctor Garrett came over to the pair. She was smiling.

“Hello Simon, you’ve had a long sleep, how do you feel?”

The boy looked at the woman who was supposed to be his mother. Nessa nodded slightly and then he looked at the doctor.

“Um, I’m okay, I think,” the boy said, vaguely. Nessa breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. Any aches or pains anywhere?”

Simon frowned and was obviously thinking about it.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, staring at the woman who was also his/her son.

“Excellent! Then let me just check you over, now you’re awake.”

She and the nurse pulled the curtain round and thoroughly checked the young man over. Dr Garrett was satisfied he was fine, and all the tubes, monitors and plumbing were removed.

“Good. You and your Mum can go home in the morning. Your clothes are in the locker. If you want some food this evening, that’s fine. Once the senior registrar does his rounds tomorrow, you may be discharged. A lady will be round with the food soon.”

They watched the doctor and nurse move off, and then the boy turned on the woman.

“I can’t stay like this!” Vanessa said.

“Okay, swap back then,” her son, the woman, replied.

“How?”

Nessa smiled.

“Mum, I don’t know. Maybe we’re stuck like this forever. Even if we’re not, we have to make the best of things. I certainly intend to,” she said.

A woman who wanted to know what they wanted to eat interrupted them. Nessa realised that ‘mother dear’ wasn’t capable of making any decisions concerning everyday things like food.

“Two shepherds pies will be fine, than you,” she said, and concentrated on trying to bring Vanessa back to planet earth. She could tell that the screaming ab-dabs weren’t far off.

“Mum! Calm down. You have to calm down and accept the way things are. We both know that there is nothing the doctors can do about it. So, if there are any answers, they are outside, and so that’s where we have to be. If you insist on creating a scene, then we’ll be stuck inside some mental ward, and who knows when we’d get out!”

The boy settled down.

“I need the loo,” he said, his voice small and embarrassed. Nessa smiled.

“I’ve already had that pleasure. Come on, I’ll come too, if you want?”

The boy nodded. Nessa thought he looked lost and very vulnerable.

“Look, I can’t call you ‘Mum’, so you’ll have to learn to answer to Simon or Sy, and call me Mum, okay?”

The boy nodded, tears in his eyes.

“It’s not so bad. We’ve still got each other,” Nessa said, trying to give him some encouragement.

“I don’t understand how you can take this so calmly.”

Nessa smiled again.

“Me neither, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

She helped the boy stand, and together they made for the loo.

He decided to sit, which made Nessa smile again.

“You’ll have to learn to stand; you can’t sit when you go back to school.”

“I can’t go to school, I’ve a job!”

“No, I’ve a job, and Trevor has told me that I can have as much time off as I need. You have to go back to school; otherwise I’ll be classed as a negligent mother!”

“You wouldn’t dare to send me to that place!”

“Watch me. You were the one who wished this to happen, so, Mummy darling, you’re going to have to live with it.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can, and you will. You seemed to spend so much time telling me how wonderful your schooldays were, and how much you loved this and that. Well, you’ve got your wish, you’ve got off the world, and now you can go back to school and have fun!”

“I told you, I never meant it!”

“Tough, we’ve both got to keep going and live each other’s lives until we can work out how to swap back. It could be worse,” Nessa said.

“How?”

“You could be still married and I’d have to go to bed with my father!”

“Oh God!” the boy broke down in tears and put his head in his hands.

Eventually, he recovered composure and they got back to their beds, so Nessa, feeling inquisitive, delved into the locker and produced her clothes. They were still damp and dirty, from when Vanessa had been extracted from the BMW in the damp conditions.

She looked at the bra holding it up by one end and letting it spin gently.

“Simo…Mum! What are you doing?”

Nessa looked at the boy with a smile.

“I’m going to have to wear this. How the hell do I put it on?”

Together they dressed Nessa in her underclothes. She marvelled at the feel of the underwear and the tights in particular. Without decent outer garments, she simply put on the hospital robe. As she slipped the court shoes on, she did a little twirl.

“These feel so nice, no wonder you like these things,” she said, and Sy went red.

“Okay, makeup. What do I do?”

Sy rolled his eyes, and emptied the makeup from the handbag. Ten minutes later he was satisfied that Nessa had applied a little make up to his satisfaction, and looked reasonable, considering.

“I have to do this every day?” Nessa asked.

“Every morning, and freshen up at every opportunity. Then in the evening, you have to take it off again.”

“Bummer!”

For the first time, the boy smiled. Nessa noticed and smiled back.

“See, this is quite funny, if you think about it.”

They both smiled, which developed into laughter, and they laughed until they cried. The nurse was worried and came over to investigate the noise. On finding the boy and his mother suffering from hysterical laughter, she shook her head and walked away. She got all sorts in this ward.

Nessa and Sy, the latter reluctantly accepting their new identities, settled down and talked seriously about their predicament. There were no clues as to how they’d swapped over, and therefore, no way of knowing how to reverse the process.

“We have to research this, I could surf the net for ideas,” Nessa suggested.

“You’ll only find a bunch of crackpots and sci-fi nuts. No, there has to be another way. I know a professor of paranormal activities. He might have an answer, or even know whom to approach,” Sy said.

“Where does he hang out?”

“Last I heard he was at Exeter University. That was a few years ago now.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing. What’s his name?”

“Raymond Burton, he’s a real eccentric. He was there when I was at university, and I came across one of his lectures by accident. I was reading law, and his lecture was on the legality of persons who could transfer their identities by brain transplant. It was a humorous fun-type lecture done during rag week, but despite his funny manner, style and content, I could tell he was quite serious about the subject. I met him later at a big dinner party, and he was completely absorbed by his subject, but not really in tune with the real world. I found him great fun, but slightly potty. He was convinced that the human mind has yet to be truly exploited, and once we get the hang of it, enormous power is waiting to be unleashed.”

“That was years ago, how could you be sure he’s still there?”

“I’m not. The last time I say him was three years ago. We went back for a ten-year reunion, and he was there then.”

They had to cease their chat, as the catering staff brought their food and, as they were finishing up, Roz arrived clutching a small holdall.

She was delighted to see Simon awake and appearing unaffected by his ordeal, but she was even more pleased to see her friend dressed and looking normal.

She hugged them both, and Nessa could tell that Sy was tempted to tell Roz everything. She shook her head and Sy nodded in agreement.

“I called Trevor, has he been in?” she asked.

Nessa told her about Trevor’s visit, and that he was taking care of the insurance and car.

“Thanks goodness. These things make men feel useful, don’t they, love?” Roz asked. Nessa smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Have you called your mother?” Roz asked.

Nessa experienced a sinking feeling.

“No, what with all the excitement, I never thought about it.”

“I don’t think we need worry her, Mum,” said Simon.

Nessa looked at the boy and they exchanged a strange smile. Roz frowned, but this was very like them. Of all the families she knew, Vanessa and Simon had an almost unnaturally close relationship. However, now knowing what an utter sod Richard had been, she understood them a little better.

“Perhaps so. She’d only worry, and the policeman said the car wasn’t even that badly damaged,” Nessa said.

They chatted about many things, and Roz was none the wiser. If anything her friend was less depressed than she had been last week, yet she now had more to be depressed about. She left them in order to get home to get dinner ready for her husband, and was much happier leaving them in such a good mood. She told them she’d be back at around 8 a.m. to collect them.

Once she’d gone, Nessa opened the holdall and found a dress that Roz had selected for her. She carefully slipped it over her head, so as not to ruin the make up.

“I’m going for a walk,” Nessa announced.

“Where?”

“Just anywhere to get out of here for a bit. I need to get used to moving about in these shoes and stuff.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Why not? If I make a mistake, you can put me right.”

She waited for the boy to dress. She smiled, as this whole experience was so surreal, she half expected to wake up and discover it was all a dream.

They walked out of the ward and along a huge corridor to a central lobby area. There was a shop and café there, so they bought some drinks and sat watching the world go by. Sy told Nessa to take smaller steps, and try to point her toes out more.

“Shoulders back, and don’t swagger. Swing the hips and let the arms flow naturally,” he told her.

“You’re going to have to stop mincing. Otherwise you’ll get teased rotten,” Nessa said, and they both grinned.

“I need the loo again,” Sy said.

“Go on then. I’m not coming this time.”

She watched him disappear to the gents and smiled.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” a voice said. She turned and looked at the speaker. He was a tall young man, with fair curly hair and dressed in jeans and a tee shirt.

“Sorry, it is. My son’s just popped to the loo.”

“Son? You don’t look old enough. My apologies,” he said and then went elsewhere to find a chair.

Nessa was blushing furiously, but inside was delighted with the exchange.

Sy returned and asked why she was looking so pleased with herself.

She told him.

“Oh God, you’ve started picking men up already!” Sy said, and Nessa laughed.

They returned to the ward, both hoping they’d wake up restored to their normal selves. Nessa was not quite as hopeful as Sy.
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
Roz was late, but so were the doctors. Nessa and Sy woke to find that nothing miraculous had occurred, as they were still in the wrong bodies.

They washed and dressed, Nessa applying the makeup with minimum interference/assistance from Sy. She wore the same dress from the holdall, and even managed to wash her hair. Sy wore the same clothes as yesterday, and Nessa could tell he wasn’t happy.

The doctors came round, asked some questions and were grateful to release two beds for people who needed them, discharging Nessa and Sy with instructions relating to compression and concussion. Carrying the holdall, they waited in the lobby area, where, after ten minutes Roz came rushing in. She blanked them completely, and was about to tear off down the corridor.

“Roz! Over here,” Nessa cried.

The woman stopped and, with some relief, came over and joined them.

“Sorry, Alicia was a nightmare this morning. She’s fighting me over ballet, of all things.”

“She doesn’t want to do it?” Nessa asked.

“She’s being a pain. She tells me that I can’t further my career at her expense, and the wants to stop now. She’s so talented, she could be so good.”

“Roz, if she doesn’t want to, forcing her will do no good at all, talent or no talent,” Nessa said, and Sy looked at her with fresh eyes.

“I know, but I had such hopes for her.”

They walked out into the damp November day. Roz hadn’t so much parked her car, as abandoned it on a flowerbed. It was a faintly battered Nissan Patrol, and Nessa knew they had horses and horseboxes. During the walk, Nessa became aware of the fact that most men did more than simply glance in her direction. She found she liked the attention, and remembered to walk properly, adding a little extra swing to her hips.

Roz’s driving hadn’t improved. Nessa believed she should get a job with the tank corps, as she paid no attention to anyone else. It was a small miracle that she arrived back at Little Milton without leaving a trail of destruction and death.

“Do you need me for anything else?” she asked as they opened up the house.

“I don’t think so, Roz, thanks. If I do, I’ll call.”

“Right, I have got to sort out Grumbleweed’s hooves. I’ll pop in later. You’re both coming to dinner tonight, okay?” she said, and with a spray of gravel, the Nissan sped out of the drive before Nessa could answer.

It was after ten when Nessa opened the house, and put her bag on the hall table in the same way as Vanessa had always done in the past.

“You look so like me,” Sy said, watching her.

“I am you, my darling. See if you can dig out Raymond’s phone number. I think we’d best be heading down to Exeter as soon as possible.”

“What about dinner?”

“He won’t want to see us before tomorrow, even at best, so let’s just get prepared.”

“I need a shower, so I don’t intend to do anything until I’m clean!” Sy said, running up to the bathroom, ripping off the clothes on the way.

Nessa walked round the house. She liked the feel of the clothes, the sound of the heels on the hard floors, and the feel of her body. She kept seeing her reflection in mirrors and every time she did so, she felt a small surge of excitement and pleasure. Being an attractive woman was so much more rewarding than being an immature and spotty thirteen-year-old boy.

She walked into the kitchen, put on the kettle and sat on a stool. She picked up a copy of Cosmopolitan and flicked through it. The phone rang, so she answered it.

“Ah, Vanessa, Trevor here.”

“Morning Trevor, any news?”

“Some. The local BMW repairers are going to take in the car this afternoon, so that’s sorted. The assessor just rang, the damage is a couple of thousand quid, but it should take only three or four days, as some of the electrics are buggered. The bodywork and structure are sound, but the surge of electricity didn’t help. The insurance people are fine, they’re sending you a claims form, so as soon as you complete it and send it back they can authorise the work to start. They reminded me that with your policy you can have a hire car, so I’ve asked them to drop one off for you. It will be with you in a couple of hours, is that all right?”

Nessa was dumbfounded. “Lovely, t.t..thanks,” she stammered.

“How are you today?”

“Better, and it is so nice to be home.”

“And Simon?”

“Simon’s fine. He came round just after you left. He’s home too.”

“Jolly good. What’s the plan?”

“I’m not sure, Trevor. I need to take Simon to a specialist regarding his problems at school. Then I have to sort out my bloody ex. I know it’s a cheek, but would you mind if I had a couple of weeks to sort things out?”

“As I told you, you take your time. Come back when you’re ready. It’s not as if we’re paying you to be off.”

Nessa knew that. The arrangement was temporary and informal. It suited Vanessa, and yet now they were seriously short of capital.

“Thanks Trevor, for everything.”

“One more thing, were you aware that Richard had some share certificates lodged with the firm?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Well, I think in the haste of leaving, he must have forgotten about them. In the light of the judge awarding you his assets, I believe these must be part of the assets. What would you like me to do with them?”

“What are they?”

“A mixed bag. Some Green King Brewery certificates, a few BP, Boots the chemists and one or two others.”

“How much are they worth?”

“Current value, about twenty thousand, give or take a couple of quid owing to market fluctuation.”

“Twenty thousand?” Nessa was amazed. It sounded a lot, but then she knew that twenty thousand went nowhere in this day and age.

“Can you put ten in Simon’s name and the rest to me?”

“Very wise, my dear. Consider it done. I’ll send some forms through for you to sign, and we’ll get that done as soon as.”

“Thanks.”

Smiling, she hung up the phone. If she had to go back, there was ten grand waiting. She stood up and made herself a cup of coffee. It made her smile, for as Simon she’d never even think of making a hot drink. It was one of Vanessa’s affectations, so now she was emulating her as closely as she could.

She sat and looked at the magazine as she drank, aware that she was turning into a clone of her mother. She wondered if her mother would revert to become a clone of Simon. Sy came into the kitchen and stared at the figure sitting so poised and calm, flicking through a woman’s magazine as if she was actually enjoying it.

“Do you want a coffee?” Nessa asked.

“You don’t drink coffee,” the boy said. Nessa looked into her half empty cup.

“Do now,” she said.

Sy walked over and peered into the kettle, and then pressing the button to bring it to the boil.

“Enjoy your shower?”

“This body is so strange.”

Nessa laughed. “I think I can agree with that statement. Mind you, you have some interesting erogenous zones,” she said, opening the magazine to a page marked ‘Erogenous Central’.

“This is so unnatural,” he said with a look of disgust.

“But, you have to admit, kinda interesting,” Nessa said with a smile.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Nessa nodded. “Yes, I think I am. For the first time in my life, I no longer feel too small and weak to achieve my aims. I feel more in control and that nothing can stop me. It’s like growing up overnight, and yes, I am loving every minute.”

“Well, I’m not!”

“I can see that, mother dear. But, until you get in touch with your nutty professor, we are stuck.”

“Oh, God, I’d forgotten.”

Sy dashed out and went to the study. Nessa heard the boy going through the drawers and filing cabinets. She finished her coffee and walked through to see if she could help.

Sy was coming out, a grin of triumph on his face and he was clutching a small piece of paper.

Nessa took it from him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You can hardly call him, it’s not as if he knows you, it’s me who should call.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose so. I hadn’t thought.”

Nessa smiled. “Look, forget who I was. The problem with grown ups is they forget they were ever children. I’m not a child any more, see!” she said, holding up her arms and showing off her adult figure. “Start treating me as you see me, and we’ll get on better.”

Nessa walked to the phone, picked up the receiver and left Sy staring after her.

The real Vanessa was feeling very confused. Being trapped in her son’s body was bad enough, but feeling so inadequate, inferior and insecure was new to her. The situation was exasperated by the confidence, maturity and naturally adult behaviour of Nessa, so it was all too easy to forget that inside that sophisticated shell was a thirteen year-old boy.

“Hello, Professor Burton? You may not remember me, but I was at Exeter some time ago. My name is Vanessa Williamson now. I used to be Vanessa Strickland.”

“No I didn’t think you would. I have come across a very unusual case and I’d value your opinion. It involves the transference of mental intelligence from one form to another.”

“No, I assure you, this isn’t a prank. It is quite personal and very upsetting.”

“I can’t say on the phone, but I would very much like to meet you and hopefully you could shed some light on a very unusual and difficult situation.”

“Just me and my son.”

“Thirteen.”

“Next Wednesday, at noon. Fine, we’ll meet you there at the university. Where do I come?”

She juggled the phone and grabbed a pen and paper, scribbling down some directions and other details.

“Thanks professor, I’m looking forward to it. Goodbye.”

She put the phone down and smiled.

“You heard, Wednesday, okay?”

“He didn’t believe you?”

“Would you?”

“I suppose not. But why did he agree to meet us?”

“Curiosity, he just would hate to miss out if it turns out to be real.”

Sy stared at Nessa. “You have grown up, haven’t you?”

Nessa smiled. “You’d better believe it, and you’re going to have to teach me to drive.”

“What?”

“There’s a hire car coming, and I am going to have to learn how to drive it to Exeter.”

“You can’t!”

“You can’t, you’re only thirteen. I’m the one with a driver’s licence, so lump it, mother dear.”

“Simon, this is too far!”

“My name is Nessa. Don’t you ever call me Simon again, do you hear?”

The tone of voice was so hard, so cold and so forthright, that Sy stopped dead.

“Now listen here….

“No, you listen. We’re not as we were. You had your chance, and for whatever reason, it’s my turn to be you. Ten hours, ten days, ten weeks or ten years, I’m taking this seriously and I sure as hell am not fucking about. As far as the world is concerned, I am Vanessa Williamson. I’m thirty-five and I’m a woman. I am not Simon any more, I am not thirteen and I sure as hell will not be told what to do. Now, either we agree to get along as partners, or I flex my stronger muscles and start getting nasty. Which is it to be?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Nessa looked at the boy who used to be him, just twenty-four hours before.

“Try calling my bluff. I’ve nothing to lose,” she said.

The boy suddenly had tears come to his eyes, and Nessa felt awful.

“Oh come here. I’m sorry, but I had a point to make.”

They had a cuddle and agreed to be partners. Sy had another problem. He actually quite liked the fact that Nessa was taking control. It was a relief to just sit back and to be told what to do. He said so.

“I know that. You made your wish and I know it was from the heart.”

The doorbell interrupted them and Nessa went to answer it.

A plump young man was standing there and a brand new VW Golf was sitting on the drive. A Ford Mondeo was further down with someone waiting behind the steering wheel.

“Mrs Williamson?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve a car for you, madam. Your insurers have ordered it. If you could sign here, please,” he said, passing her a clipboard with documents attached and a big ‘X’ denoting where she should sign.

“Do you have your licence?” he asked. Nessa invited him into the hall while she found it in her handbag.

She handed it over and he noted down some details.

“Are you familiar with the Golf?”

“Not really, could you show me?”

They went over to the car, and he used the remote to show her how to lock and unlock it. She sat behind the wheel while he told her what everything did. He was just a little behind her, so couldn’t see the childish grin fixed on her face.

“I think I’ve got that, thanks.”

“Would you like to take it for a drive with me, just in case?” he asked.

“No, that won’t be necessary, but thanks for the thought.”

The man said goodbye and got into the waiting Ford. Nessa watched them drive away, and then ran in and shouted for Sy.

“Come on, we’re going driving!”

Sy was not enthusiastic, but sat in the passenger seat and put on his seat belt.

“Okay, this time you bloody well do as you’re told!” he said, and Nessa grinned.

Two very fraught hours later, they returned, fortunately without a mark on the silver hire-car.

Sy looked pale and frazzled, while Nessa still had a huge grin on her face.

“That was brilliant; I even got up to a hundred on the dual-carriageway,” she said, almost breathless with excitement.

“If you can’t drive slower, I am not getting into that car ever again!”

“I will, I promise. God, that was brilliant!”

“Was it?”

“Well, I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“You were awful. But as it was the first time, I suppose you could have been a heck of a lot worse.”

“I already knew how to change gears. I drove Roz’s old Land Rover on the farm.”

“When?”

“Last summer.”

“You never told me.”

“You’d have made a fuss. I never went on the roads though.”

Sy smiled weakly, shaking his head. It was nice that occasionally the façade slipped and Nessa became her true age. It didn’t last long, for she was back in control very quickly, and Sy was happy to let her.
 

*          *          *
 
Dinner that evening was quite jolly. Stephen was uncomfortable at first, as he thought Vanessa, already strung out, would be impossible.

He was pleasantly surprised, for he found her more relaxed and more in control than he could recall. The VW Golf had arrived in a spray of gravel and Simon had entered looking quite pale. Nessa had come in laughing and Roz had not seen her so cheerful since before Richard dropped his bombshell. Alicia was pleased to see Simon, who was rather quiet and subdued, but that wasn’t unusual of late.

The girl took him up to her room before dinner.

“What was it like?” she asked.

“What was what like?”

“The accident, was it bad?”

“I don’t remember much. This big van came towards us, we skidded off the road and into a ditch. There was a bang, some sparks and then I woke up in hospital. The lorry driver had a heart attack and died.”

“Really? Did you see him?”

“No, I told you, I woke up in hospital.”

“Mummy said you got taken in a helicopter, were you awake for that?”

“No, unfortunately, but at least I’m still alive.”

“Is the car a wreck?”

“I don’t know. Mum says that a policeman told her it’s not too bad, but we won’t get it back for a week or so.”

“How long are you off school?”

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know. We have to see some people.”

“Like doctors?”

“Something like that?”

“You’re not loony are you?”

“No, just a bit mixed up,” Sy said, understating the situation dreadfully.

Roz called them down to supper, to enjoy Roz’s unusual cuisine. She wasn’t a brilliant cook, but make up for it with plenty of imagination. It had started out as a steak and kidney pie, but she forgot the kidneys, but had some venison left over. Therefore, it became a steak and venison pie, except she underestimated on the pastry, and instead made a steak and venison casserole with cheese pastry twists with some dumplings.

There was plenty to go round, and it was actually very good. Alicia was at the same school that her mother taught at, and Neville was off boarding at a prep school near Oxford, so it was just the five of them. Stephen noticed that Vanessa refused the wine, and was faintly surprised. He actually had thought she’d become a bit of a secret drinker of late, drowning her sorrows in wine and brandy.

“Not drinking Vanessa?” he asked.

“No. I think it can become too much of a crutch,” she said, staring pointedly at her son.

Sy looked away. He though he’d managed to hide the secret well, obviously not well enough. Nessa was relaxed and seemed in a very good mood. Roz was quite surprised at the profound change that had occurred in her friend over a couple of days. She remarked on it.

“Shit, Roz, the accident was the final straw. I realised that I wasn’t dead and the bastard had tried everything to ruin my life. Even a thirty-ton truck and an electric shock couldn’t finish me off. I thought, what the hell? Why not just look forward and make the best of things? I’m going to nail that bastard, but on my terms and in my time,” Nessa said.

They left at ten, Nessa saying she wanted to get Simon to bed, and Roz watched as the Golf tore off down the road.

“She’s changed,” she said to her husband.

“There was room for it. She was almost suicidal, you know?”

“That’s what I mean. It’s almost as if she’s someone completely different. I worry about her, all alone like that.”

“She’s an attractive woman, so she won’t be alone for long.”

“Do you think so?”

“Roz, Vanessa is one of the most attractive women we know. I’m sure she will find someone relatively quickly,” he said, as they went back inside.

“It’s never easy as a single mother with a rough divorce behind her.”

“Maybe, but she’s bright and intelligent, so she’ll bounce back. I think we’re seeing her do just that. Simon was quiet though,” Stephen remarked.

“He always is. Alicia, how did you find Simon?” Roz asked her daughter.

“He’s okay. I think he’s worried about his mum, and he hates his dad.”

“God, it’s such a mess. I hope they get themselves sorted out.”
 

*          *          *
 
How long have you known?” Sy asked, as he shut his eyes when Nessa took the last bend on two wheels.

“About what, the drinking?”

“Yes.”

“Early on, in the spring, I think.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Why should I? It sent you to sleep and took away your problems for a while.”

“So much for being a child,” he said, and Nessa laughed.

“I’m not any more, remember?”

“No, you’re not, but this is so hard for me.”

Nessa swung the car through the gates and came to a halt inches away from the garage doors.

“I’ve got the hang of this driving lark,” she said, with a grin. “It’s fun.”

“Not for me,” Simon said, gratefully getting out of the car.

They went in and Nessa locked the door behind them.

“I’m going for a bath, aren’t you tired?” she asked, making for the stairs.

“Very, it’s been a very long and strange day. I hope to hell we wake up back to normal.”

“I don’t,” said Nessa with a smile.

“Where are we going to sleep? I can’t have your room.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I can’t, that’s all.”

Nessa looked at him and started to laugh.

“If you could hear yourself. That sounded remarkably like a thirteen year old to me.”

Sy smiled in spite of himself.

“Look, I don’t care where I sleep. I’m not Simon any more. If you want your old bed, fine. I’ll take the spare double. But I’m bagging the big bath whatever you say.”

Nessa went up to the spare room and undressed. She stood naked and admired herself in the full-length mirror. She saw Sy staring from the open door.

“Well, what’s it look like from the outside?” she asked.

Sy shook his head. “Weird, totally unreal and so strange.”

Nessa smiled. “I need a sexy nightie, so be a love and get one for me from your room.” She turned and walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

Sy stood looking at the door. Slowly he shook his head, walked across the landing and into the room that he had occupied for the last fifteen years as Vanessa. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and it caught him unawares. He looked around the room and was quite struck with the memories.

This was a lady’s room, not a teenage boy’s. He made a decision, and went back across the landing and into the bathroom. Nessa was lying back in the bath, surrounded by bubbles.

“Hi,” she said, with a smile.

“Take my old room. You need it more than me. I’ll take your room.”

“Are you sure?” Nessa asked, frowning.

“No, I’m not sure of anything. But, look at me! I’m not who I should be and I’m not who I was. I don’t think I can take the memories in that room any more. In any case, you’ll need the clothes more than I will.”

“What if we wake up back to normal?” Nessa asked.

“That’s likely,” Sy said, his tone flat and resigned.

“We could.”

“Nessa, how could we? The conditions that changed us in the first place aren’t exactly likely, are they?”

“I suppose.”

“Besides, you don’t want to change back, do you?”

Nessa smiled, feeling a little guilty. “Not really, but if it happens, it happens. How about you?”

Sy sighed, sat on the stool, and looked at the amazingly well adjusted young woman wearing the body he should be in.

“I was about as low as one could get. Life was so hard I’d reached the stage that I didn’t want to get up in the morning, and I’d considered ending it all several times. I desperately wanted someone or something to happen to take the burden from me, so in a way, you were right, I might have willed this whole thing. It doesn’t alter the fact that I’m not happy being you.”

“Why not? Once we get you back to school, you can have a ball. The only thing you need worry about is getting turned on by the strapping eighteen year olds in the shower room.”

“Nessa! That’s disgusting,” Sy said, shocked.

“Only if you let it be. I’m a woman; I find that everything is different. Stephen flirted with me this evening when Roz was out of the room, not seriously, but I liked the attention. I’m not the same as I was, so neither need you be. Go with the flow, who knows, maybe you could get a thing going with Alicia.”

“Nessa!”

Nessa chuckled and slipped under the surface of the water, disappearing from view completely.

Sy smiled slightly and waited for her to come up again.

When she did, he threw a cup of cold water over her, and Nessa retaliated by throwing a wet sponge right into his face. Both ended up laughing and Simon was soaked.

Nessa got out and told the boy to strip off and have a bath. She wrapped a towel around her, finding it odd wrapping it over the top of her breasts, then drying her hair with a second towel. She went into the master bedroom and searched through the drawers for a suitable nightdress.

“This is so strange,” Sy said from the bath.

Nessa went in and looked down at him. He was examining his genitals.

“What is?” she asked.

“These are; it’s so odd having them just hanging there.”

“Wait till you get a stiffy, that’ll give you something to moan about,” she said and went to the basin, where, using her old toothbrush, she cleaned her teeth.

“It’s funny, but you remind me of my own mother,” Sy said. Nessa chuckled and turned round.

“Why?” she asked, with a mouth full of toothpaste.

“I’m not sure, but you exude the same feeling of confidence and security. It’s odd, but I feel safe with you around.”

“I’ll remind you of that when we swap back,” the girl said, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing out her mouth.

“What’s rugger really like?”

Nessa smiled. “I enjoyed it at prep school, but that’s because I was one of the biggest on the field. I was fast, so once I got the ball, I would run and try not to get caught. You’ll love it, all those hunky boys trying to grab you.”

“Nessa, be serious.”

“I am. You have to think like me, that way you will be okay. If you believe you’re a thirty-five year old woman, then you’re going to have serious problems.”

“That’s the hard bit.”

“Not for me. I find the body makes me believe who I am, you should try it.”

“Hmm,” said Sy, unconvinced.

“Talking of mothers, do we contact Gran, or not?” Nessa asked.

“I don’t know. I used to call her once a week on a Friday. Maybe we could ring her tomorrow.”

“Will she twig?”

“If anyone will she will, but I doubt it. I look at you, and sometimes I almost believe you’re me.”

Nessa smiled and stroked his cheek.

“Thanks, that really is a compliment.”

Sy got out of the bath and dried himself. Nessa threw him a pair of pyjamas.

“These?” he asked distastefully.

“Well, you’re not wearing a baby-doll, it would be unnatural,” said Nessa with a smile.

Sy shrugged, put on the PJs and then cleaned his teeth without a murmur.

“On the sleeping arrangements. This is a big enough bed, so why don’t we share?” Nessa suggested.

In the end, the pair shared the huge bed and Nessa was asleep very quickly. Sy lay awake staring up at the darkened ceiling, his mind in a whirl. Compared to a few nights ago, circumstances were so different, and the fact that Nessa had assumed control was a nice feeling. He hadn’t lied, he really did feel happy that someone had stepped in and taken over. He just wasn’t sure about the way in which it had happened. He slipped off to sleep, hoping that things would return to normal, but not in any real rush.
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
The Golf came hurtling off the M5, as Nessa followed the signs for Exeter. Sy was hanging on for grim death, but was actually less terrified than he thought he would be. He smiled as he realised that Nessa was safer than Roz, and the latter had been driving for years!

He directed Nessa to the University, and they parked outside a large block, as was written on the piece of paper.

“How are we for time?” Nessa asked.

“Ten minutes early.”

“Yes! How cool is that?”

“Hello Simon,” said Sy.

Nessa blew a raspberry. “Shut up, mother dear!”

Nessa got out and Sy watched her. She was in a fawn skirt with matching roll-neck sweater and knee length boots. He smiled, as she had so much poise it was hard to believe she was not born to this. He, on the other hand, was wearing jeans and an old tee shirt, with a blue pullover over the top.

“Are you coming?” she asked, so he followed her into the building. They found the professor’s rooms on the third floor. Nessa knocked.

An elderly man with a shock of unruly white hair opened the door. He stared myopically at them. He was any age between sixty and ninety. His wrinkly skin seemed weathered and almost mummified, and his two piercing blue eyes took in the pair at his door.

“Mrs Williamson?” he asked.

“Yes, I mean, she is,” said Sy, as Nessa glared at him.

“Welcome to you both, come in, I’ll put the kettle on.”

They entered and soon were sitting amongst piled of books and papers. There was little space anywhere, as the four walls were bookshelves and all full. Every piece of tabletop was covered, and even the elderly computer had books all over it.

He gave them some weak tea in chipped and rather mucky mugs, and then the professor sat at his desk and looked at Nessa.

Nessa took a deep breath.

“Professor. You once expressed an idea that the human mind could be a truly awesome power and that given the right circumstances, transference from one person to the next, and vice versa could be possible.”

“Yes, I still think so, why do you ask?”

“Because it happened.”

The professor stared at Nessa.

“Explain please, young lady.”

“At about noon on Wednesday, Mrs Vanessa Williams was driving her car along the A40. Her thirteen year-old son was a passenger in the same car. An accident occurred, whereby the car left the road, and entered a water-filled ditch. A lorry destroyed a power line, and electricity surged through the vehicle and sparks flew everywhere. Both persons in the car were then removed by helicopter to Stoke Mandeville Hospital, both recovered fully with no bones broken and no serious injury. Indeed, we were both discharged yesterday,” Nessa said, as if reporting a news item.

“Mrs Williamson, this is very interesting, but what is your point?”

“The point, professor, is that I am Mrs Williamson, or was until yesterday,” Sy said, nodding at Nessa. “She is the person who used to be my son.”

The professor blinked a few times and stared at each of them in turn.

“I take it you can verify this?”

“We don’t have to. I was a boy and now I’m a woman. If this was a trick, wouldn’t we be trying to con loads of money out of people, instead of coming to you in the hope you can find a way to return us to how we were?” Nessa said.

“You don’t sound like a thirteen year old,” the professor said.

“How do you want me to sound? I’m a grown woman, this is my mother’s body and every moment is a learning experience. I understand that next week this body is due to menstruate, can you imagine how frightening that sounds?”

The professor turned to Sy. “You claim to be Vanessa Strickland?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Right, I did a little research, once I knew you were coming. I pulled your file. Here’s a piece of paper and a pen. Write down a potted history of your time here. Who you studied under, who your friends were, and what subjects and dissertations you submitted work on.”

Sy looked puzzled and then smiled, took the proffered pen and paper and started writing.

“So, you’re thirteen?”

“Yes, or I was.”

“And a boy?”

“Yes.”

“Who did your makeup this morning?”

“I did, why?”

“It’s very good. Did your mother help?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Where are you at school?”

“Ketterham Court, why?”

“What year are you in?”

“Third form.”

“Do you play rugby?”

“Yes.”

“What position do you play?”

“Wing three-quarter, why?”

“Left or right?”

“Right.”

“Do you take the throw-ins?”

“No, the hooker does that in our team.”

“Which team is that?”

“Junior XV.”

“When did you last play?”

“A match? About a week ago.”

“Who did you play?”

“Dr Challoner’s Grammar school.

“Did you win?”

“No we lost, 22 —18.”

“Did you score a try?”

“Yes, and I converted it.”

“Was you mother there?”

“Mum? No she wasn’t.

“Describe the play from which you scored.”

Nessa frowned.

“There was a scrum just short of their twenty-two. It was on my side of the pitch, so the three-quarters were going out to the left in a deep formation. The number eight held it in, as it was a bloody good hook against the head. We pushed and made two yards, then the blind-side wing forward picked it and went round the blind side with me in support. He sold a dummy to the opposite wing, and then met their full back, who must have gone some to get across to cover. He passed to me and I went for it. Their scrum half tried to catch me, but I went across the line and scored behind the posts. I then took the kick and converted it.”

“Instep or toe?”

“Instep, round the corner, just like Johnnie Wilkinson,” Nessa said, grinning.

“Right or left foot?”

“Right, I’m crap with the left.”

“Hmm, what’s your least favourite subject?”

“Least favourite? Geography.”

“Why?”

“I hate Mr Cross.”

“Why?”

“He’s a bully and the subject is so pointless. Why do I want to know about sheep in New Zealand and emissions in the Russian Federation?”

“What is your favourite subject?”

“History, or maths.”

“Why?”

Nessa shrugged. “I like the masters and maths is easy.”

“Have you done logarithms?”

“We’re looking at them at the moment, why?”

“Solve this,” he said, and passed Nessa a logarithm table book, and a problem written on a piece of paper.

Nessa used the book and solved it is less than a minute.

The professor looked at her and smiled.

They both looked at Sy, who was still scribbling.

“Mrs Williamson, you may stop now,” the professor said, his voice kindly and sympathetic.

Sy looked up. “Why?”

“I spoke to Marcus Fenchurch, your tutor when you were here. He remembered you with some fondness. You were the secretary of a theatrical club he ran, and he told me that you were completely un-sports minded and useless at sums. This young woman is neither of those. I’m convinced.”

Sy frowned and passed what he’d done over to the professor, who looked at it and smiled.

“Now, isn’t this fun?” he said with a huge smile.
 

*          *          *
 
He went over their accounts in minute detail, particularly interested in two points. The first was the physical combination of electricity and the situation of the car. The second was their respective mental states. Vanessa at the end of her tether, and wishing to ‘stop the world and get off’ and Simon desperate to be adult to take care of his mother, sorting out his errant father in the process.

He spent some time listening and observing his two guests, in particular noting how well adapted Nessa was to her new circumstances. Sy was less so, but nevertheless, seemed almost content with the current status quo.

“If I could change you back, right now, would you agree to it?” he asked.

“No,” said Nessa.

“Yes, I think so,” said Sy.

They all looked at each other.

“No?” the professor said, looking at Nessa who blushed delightfully.

“I’ve things to do before I go back,” she said.

“Like?”

“I have to sort out Dad.”

The professor nodded and turned to the boy.

“You only think so?”

“Yes. Initially, I would have said yes, but in a perverse way, I quite enjoy not having to make decisions all the time, but I’m not sure I want to stay as a boy.”

“And you’re happy your thirteen year-old son takes on your responsibility?”

“Put like that, not really, but look at her, does she look or behave like my son?”

“We’re not talking about her, we’re talking about you.”

“Professor, I never asked for all this. I’ve tried to do everything right, and look where it’s got me. I just have really had enough, and I’m not strong anymore.”

The professor nodded and saw the boy was on the verge of tears.

“I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand more about what has happened. I believe if I can do that, I’m closer to discovering how to reverse the effects.”

The professor got up and went to an old volume on his sideboard. He spent some time leaving through it and returned with a page open.

“Do you know how many volts were in the cables?”

Neither did.

“Hmm, it seems I’m going to have to make some enquiries. This is going to take some time. I suggest you go get some lunch and pop back at about two.”

Nessa and Sy had little choice, and they left the eccentric old man and returned to their car.

“What do you reckon?” Nessa asked.

“He still seems a little potty to me,” replied Sy.

“He seems to believe us, that’s a plus.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Always,” said Nessa with a grin, and Sy shook his head.

“I suggest you leave the car here, I don’t think you are ready for urban driving just yet.”

They took their coats from the car and put them on prior to walking the short distance to the nearest parade of shops. They came to an Italian Restaurant.

“This’ll do,” said Nessa.

“It’s quite expensive,” observed Sy.

“We got some money from dear Daddy,” said Nessa and opened the door.

Sy was eager to find out more, but Nessa kept quiet as a tall and incredibly sexy Italian waiter came up to her.

“Signorina, you like a table, si?”

“Grazi,” said Nessa with a smile.

The man noted Sy and frowned.

“I’m sorry, signora, you look too young,” he said, and Nessa laughed.

He showed them to a table and took their drinks order as they looked at the menu.

“Flirt!” said Sy.

Nessa blew him a kiss.

“What’s this about the money?”

“Trevor called to say that he’s found some of Dad’s share certificates. He’s going to encash them in light of the court order, and give us the proceeds.”

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday, when you were having a shower.”

“And you just forgot to tell me?”

“Yes, as it happens. I did.”

“How much?”

“Not sure, ten to twenty thousand. It depends on the market.”

“That’ll pay some of the mortgage.”

“No, we get that from Dad. If he finds out we’ve the capital to pay it off, he’ll renege again.”

“So what do we do?”

“I’ve put ten grand in the name of Simon for educational purposes, the rest comes to me, or you, or whoever is in this body,” she said, grinning.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” said Nessa watching the waiter as he brought their drinks.

Sy watched the young woman, who used to be her son, flirt outrageously and very naturally with the young Italian. They ordered their meal, and Sy noted the waiter was particularly attentive to Nessa, who played up to it shamelessly.

It was a pleasant meal and Nessa was only too conscious that the men eating their business lunches were all well aware of her presence and she played them like salmon. Sy tried to see anything of the male teen in his companion and failed completely. He sighed and resigned himself to being that male teen.

Nessa paid and tipped the waiter at least fifteen percent. The man helped her on with her coat and Sy thought he was rather too tactile. He kissed her hand and opened the door for them to exit. It was the first time he’d done that for a customer all day.

“God, being a woman is wonderful!” said Nessa, as they walked back to the car and the professor.

“Not always,” said Sy.

“I accept that, but men are like putty if you play them right.”

Sy looked at her. “Hark at the expert,” he said sarcastically, and Nessa annoyed him by simply laughing.

“Seriously, have you any idea of the trouble you’d get in if you end up going to bed with one?”

Nessa stopped laughing.

“Why, aren’t you on the pill anymore?”

“Simon, that is the limit!”

“Now, now, mummy, don’t get your Y fronts in a twist. I’m teasing.”

Sy was cross now, and Nessa sensed she’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry, but I have to admit it has crossed my mind,” she said.

“What, having sex?”

“Why not? This body is still beautiful and if you’ve got it,”

“Don’t be disgusting.”

“I’m not. I’m just a woman and I have needs,” Nessa said somewhat petulantly.

“And I never did, is that it?” Sy was very angry now.

“Not at all. You were an emotional wreck and everyone knows that the female libido is dependant upon a healthy emotional life.”

Sy shook his head and went quiet.

They walked in silence, both aware of the noise of Nessa’s heels on the pavement.

“If you do, take precautions.”

“What?” asked Nessa, astounded.

“If you ever have sex, then take precautions, okay?”

Nessa was lost for words. She’d been playing a game, albeit in poor taste, and she never imagined Sy would concede.

“Of course, I would anyway, whether in here or in there. I just never got any offers in there,” she said with a grin.

Sy couldn’t help it, the girl was so bloody cheerful, and he smiled a reluctant smile.

“This isn’t a game, Nessa, no matter how much fun you seem to be having. Real life can be bloody hard.”

“I know. It’s odd, but I feel that I can take on the world and win.”

“How are the mighty fallen? I once felt like that, a long time ago now. When you’re lying on the canvas, it’s very different view.”

“I realise that, and I’m sorry. It’s just for the first time I feel I’ve had the means and power to actually make a difference. I’m not belittling what you’ve done or what you’ve been through, but it’s as you said, it’s your chance to step back and let someone else carry the can for a while. I don’t know everything by any means, but with your help, I think we can get through this and make that bastard pay.”

They walked in silence for a while.

“Did he leave anything in the safe?” Nessa asked.

“What safe?”

“The one under the stairs.”

“I don’t know, he never told me the combination.”

“Why not?”

“He said if we were burgled, I couldn’t tell.”

“That’s silly, they wouldn’t believe you and hurt you anyway,” said Nessa, shocked at her father’s casual and rather ruthless approach.

“Well, why don’t you get a locksmith and do it the hard way?” Sy suggested.

“Yeah, maybe.”

They arrived back at the Professor’s rooms and had to wait a while for him to answer the door.

When he finally let them in, he seemed excited and flustered.

“Good, good, you’re back. Now, I have an idea, and I think I was right. I believe that the electricity didn’t touch you, for that would have probably have killed you both, but it created an amplifier.”

“An amplifier?” asked Nessa, confused.

“Yes, no, a sort of amplifier…you see, the brain works through electrical impulses, well, the peculiar nature of the power surge and arc could have amplified your respective brain patterns and enabled your subconscious wishes, for want of a better word, into becoming reality. In short, you were both wishing the same thing, at the same time, when an unusual phenomenon took place, thereby ensuring those wishes being granted.”

Nessa and Sy looked at the professor with expressions of simple disbelief.

“It sounds silly, but actually there is a precedent.”

“There is?”

“In Arkansas, in 1972, Wilbur Gillies and his hound, Randy, were out in a storm. Lightening struck, and the man was killed. The dog displayed very human attributes until it’s death some two years later. Wilbur’s widow, Joanne, was convinced that the dog was haunted by her dead husband.”

“That is a precedent?” said Sy, and Nessa smiled.

“Ah, you have to look carefully. There was electricity, and the dog probably thought of his master as the next thing to God, and vice versa. Anyway, I’m convinced, all I have to do is work out how to replicate the original situation.”

“Um, one minor problem, professor,” said Nessa.

“Problem? What?”

“You said both have to want to go through the transfer?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“I don’t actually want to quite yet.”

The professor stared at her. “What?”

“As is told you, I’ve things to do. I’m sure I’ll want to eventually, but not yet. If that’s okay with you.”

The professor shook his head and looked quite surprised.

“You like being a woman?” he asked, incredulity seeping into his voice.

“Yes, actually I do. I haven’t been one for very long, but so far it’s been brilliant.”

“Good God, how peculiar!” the professor said, scratching his head.

“Sorry, and all that,” said Nessa, feeling guilty.

“No, it’s better that you told me. If you hadn’t, it wouldn’t have worked and I wouldn’t know why. I can’t set things up for a while, in any case. I need to do some research and experimentation first. Why don’t you come back in a month?”

“A month? You have to be joking, I can’t stay like this for a whole month!” said Sy.

“Um, can you make that three or four months?” said Nessa with a guilty look at Sy.

“Oh dear, you do have some problems, don’t you?” said the professor, not without some dry humour.

---

 
To Be Continued...