It was fabulous, sitting on the harbour wall with cod–they were out of haddock–and chips in paper with just the right amount of salt and vinegar, trying to avoid being mugged by the ever present dive-bombing seagulls...


Changes
Chapter 13
By Susan Brown

Don't tell me what it's all about,
'Cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out,
Out of those chains, those chains that bind you
That is why I'm here to remind you

What do you get when you fall in love?
You get enough tears to fill an ocean
That's what you get for your devotion.
I'll never fall in love again.
I'll never fall in love again.

Burt Bacharach / Hal David

Previously…

I nodded, wanting to get things moving. I wanted the pain of my marriage breakdown to end as soon as possible.

Jocasta, pulled out her ’phone and speed dialled the number.

‘Hi, Katie? Jo. Hi. hon, how are you? Tell me about it. Look my friend Samantha…yes, that’s the one, she needs some urgent advice. Will you be around tomorrow morning? Great. Okay, I’ll tell her. Byee.’

‘Eleven o’clock tomorrow all right?’

‘Sure. Thanks for sorting that.’

‘No problem; ’tis what friends are for. Now put that on the back burner and tell me. Are you taking this place?’

‘Yes, it’s wonderful. If it wasn’t for my marital problems, I’d think life was getting close to perfect. I’m sure someone’s looking down on me to help me find the cove, you and this blissful cottage.’

‘Well someone is looking down on you, or he had better be otherwise my beloved hubby would be out of a job. So what next?’

‘I need a mattress and bed linen.’

And now the story continues…

Surprisingly enough, not much else happened that day, except that on the way back from my cottage–my cottage, sounds soooo nice–Jo and I couldn’t resist the inviting smell of the fish and chip shop. It was fabulous, sitting on the harbour wall with cod–they were out of haddock–and chips in paper with just the right amount of salt and vinegar, trying to avoid being mugged by the ever present dive-bombing seagulls.

Whilst waiting for the fish and chips to be freshly cooked, Jocasta borrowed the Yellow Pages and gave me the number of a bed shop located in a nearby town. I managed to ring them and ordered a mattress, some pillows and plain white bed linen, taking the chance that my instructions regarding a deep, comfortable mattress would be carried out. Jocasta assured me that they were a good shop with a high reputation for quality and I should have no worries about what they would supply. It was arranged that the stuff would be delivered to the cottage the next morning at half past nine, so I had to make sure that I would be there to take delivery. I hoped they wouldn’t be late as I was seeing Katie the solicitor at eleven.

The evening passed quietly and I slept well. Next morning I was back at the cottage, waiting for the mattress to arrive. I had spoken to Millie and she said that it was okay to sort out the mattress and take delivery. She was going to see Mr Mogg later and get him to sign a few forms. She gave me the estate agents account number and sort code for transferring funds to pay the deposit. Then while I waited for the van to arrive, I phoned my bank. Of course, it’s all centralised now so you don’t ever speak to a branch just someone faceless.

I gave the faceless bank person my personal details including what I had for breakfast that day and then got down to the reason for my call.

‘Firstly, I have changed my address.’ I gave her my details.

‘Right, now I need to transfer some funds to my estate agent, I need that done straight away–how much? Talk about pound of flesh. Okay please do it.’

As I put the phone down, I wondered why the banks were in so much trouble; they give daylight robbery a bad name.

There was a knock on the door and I went downstairs to answer it. Two men in flat caps stood there.

‘Ms Smart?’ asked left hand flat cap.

‘That’s me.’ I answered brightly.

‘We have a delivery,’ said right hand flat cap, handing me a large carrier bag–it was the pillows, sheets and things.

‘Thanks.’

Soon, they were struggling up the narrow stairs with the unwieldy mattress and both flat caps fell off before they finally managed to get it into the bedroom. I learned a few Devonian swearwords that might come in useful at some time or other.

‘Thank you so much.’

‘No problem,’ said one flat cap-less person.

‘Thanks,’ said the other one as I gave them a tip.

They went downstairs and after picking up their caps and placing them carefully on their heads, they were off.

Across the lane, I saw several ladies nattering and I gave them a little wave and went back inside.

I was going to change the mattress myself, but didn’t want to tempt fate, just in case everything went pear shaped and I wasn’t for some reason able to have the cottage.

I shifted a few boxes around in what I now called my Studio and wondered if there was anywhere else that I could stash them as they would be in the way once my artistic juices began flowing.

I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter to eleven, and I had places to go and things to do, so I locked up and made my way down to the High Street to meet Katie.

There were a few people in the lane so I said, ‘hi,’ as I passed them. I wondered how many centuries it would take for me to be considered a local? Mind you, I was being unfair as everyone had been nice since I had arrived.

Jocasta had offered to come with me to the solicitors, but I decided that this was one thing I had to do alone.

As I stood outside the solicitors’ door, I took a deep breath and entered. It was cooler inside and darker. My eyes took a moment to adjust as I walked up the carpeted staircase to the top where a sign said Please come in. I knocked on the solid wooden door and went in.

There was a girl behind a desk typing on a keyboard.

‘Fercrisaek,’ she said at her screen, then looking up she smiled, saying, ’awright ’en aree?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Oh, sorry, I’m practicing my Devon accent for the Midsummer Fair–long story; may I help you?

‘I have an appointment with Katie?’

‘Right, erm, Ms Smart?’

‘That’s me.’

‘Please take a seat, I’ll see if she’s free.’

I sat down on one of the padded chairs that lined the walls á  la doctor’s surgery. There were several doors and she went to one in the corner, knocked and entered.

As I looked round the office, I felt slightly uncomfortable as it appeared I was being stared at by several old, and no doubt deceased, men in the portraits on the walls.

The door opened again and the girl came out.

‘She’s free now; would you like to go in?’

As I entered, a tall, rather elegant, lady stood up and shook my hand.

‘Samantha? Great to see you. Come and sit down and we can have a chat.’ She pointed to a couple of easy chairs so we sat down and made ourselves comfortable.

She was quite attractive, with long black hair, wearing a silk blouse and grey tailored skirt. Every bit the busy solicitor.

‘May I offer you some coffee?’

I shook my head. Now I came to it, I was decidedly nervous.

‘Okay then, how may I help you?’

By now I was extremely nervous. Could I trust her? I had to trust her; I had no choice if I wanted to get this over quickly.

‘I–I want to know how I can get a divorce.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there no chance?’

‘N—no.’ I took a deep breath and looked at her. ‘Is this confidential?’

‘Naturally. I won’t say or do anything you don’t wish me to. Look, I can see that you’re upset, that’s obvious. I think you should tell me everything so that I can advise the best way forward.’

I looked at her; she seems nice and I don’t think that she would laugh or treat me like I was something she got on her shoe; oh hell… I shut my eyes, not wanting to see her reaction to what I was about to say.

‘First of all, my legal name is Tom Smart. I—I’m transgendered.’

I cracked an eye open. She hadn’t fainted and there weren’t screams of disgust. In fact she didn’t look any different.

‘You don’t seem shocked.’ I said, being brave and opening the other eye.

‘No. Surprised yes, as you don’t look much like a Tom to me. I can see that you’re surprised by that.’

‘I suppose I am. I’ve come to expect prejudice everywhere I go and I’m very surprised that, as yet, I haven’t found any here.’

‘In every community there are people who don’t accept others for what, or should I say, who they are, but this community is better than many I could think of. Now, tell me your story and let’s see if I can help sort things out for you.’

I told her about finding my wife having sex with a man in our house and my subsequent flight to this lovely place and also the conversations that I had with my wife and her odious–or should that be odourous?–father.

‘So, let me get this straight, she owns your house?’

‘Yes, it was given to her by her father when we got married.’

‘Not to both of you as a wedding present?’

‘No.’

‘Strange. And you worked for her father too?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do you want out of this, Samantha?’

‘I…I want to start afresh–with no baggage.’

‘Do you intend to stay as Samantha?’

‘Yes, I want to go the whole way and have surgery.’

‘Have you discussed this with anyone?’

‘Only Jocasta, so far.’

‘You must speak to a doctor and probably a trick-cyclist too.’

‘I know; I’ll add it to my list of things to do.’

‘Would you like me to sort out a change of name for you? It would simplify matters when it goes to court.’

‘Yes please, if you don’t mind.’

‘No prob. We’ll sort out a deed poll for you–it’s not difficult. Now, getting down to basics, do you wish to make a claim on the matrimonial home?’

‘I can’t it’s Olivia’s–“Daddy” gave it to her.’

‘You are married and in the eyes of the law, you are entitled to a fair percentage of the property.’

‘Am I?’

‘Well, the law states that when a married couple divorce, the matrimonial property should be shared fairly between them. When a divorce action is raised, either party can ask the court for orders to achieve this fair sharing. This could be payment of a sum of money, known as a capital sum, a transfer of property, such as the matrimonial home, or a pension share, is that clear so far?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘The matrimonial property comprises of all assets owned by a couple, whether individually or jointly, at the date of separation, which have been acquired during the marriage other than by way of gift or succession from a third party. So anything which you owned before the marriage or which you acquired after the date of separation is not included. Look we can go into this in a bit more detail at another time; it’s an awful lot to take in.’

‘I don’t know if I want a fight. I have some money of my own that came to me when my parents died. Olivia would probably want to claim some of that knowing her.’

‘How much is involved?

‘About 250K.’

‘And the house, how much is that worth?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s a large house in affluent area, probably close to half a million.’

‘Daddy must be rich?’

‘Very.’

‘And did your father-in-Law give Olivia any money?’

‘Yes, but I don’t know how much, I think it may have been some sort of tax dodge or other.’

Katie stared at me for a moment.

‘It could get messy you know. If your father-in-law has financial muscle, he would almost certainly bring in some big guns to fight the case. Also, when it’s known that you are now a woman–or transitioning if you like–it could all come out in court and there would almost certainly be publicity.’

‘I just want to begin again; if that means losing out financially, then I will. I don’t want her, or her father’s money.’

She looked at me for a moment a slight smile playing on her painted lips.

‘Hang on a minute, I’m dying for a cuppa–tea or coffee?’

‘Tea, please.’

‘Okay, I won’t be a moment.’

She left me to my thoughts and my, weren’t they heavy thoughts?

I didn’t need an Einstein moment to realise that Olivia, trying to contact me and the bullying of her father was because they didn’t want me to get a divorce on my terms. Olivia stood to lose quite a bit. I didn’t know how much as she kept her money apart from mine. In fact come to think of it, it was her idea that we did it that way. I remembered her saying at the time that it would give us independence. A funny term for people who had just got married?

Why did she marry me? Did she love me? I thought she did. Now, I’m not so sure. Perhaps I was just part of some elaborate game she played. How many lovers did she have while we were married?

It was rather like a jigsaw puzzle, where you just get all of the pieces to fit. The times that she went away on librarian courses or visiting friends–was that a sham? Was I just a token husband to her that fulfilled some sort of kinky need–a bloke that dressed up as a girl, did that turn her on? Was that what she thought I was, something to play with?

I took a deep breath, I felt hot as if I was going to faint. I didn’t have proof, but I knew in my heart of hearts that it was the truth–I had been used, probably all of our married life. A fire started to burn inside me and I felt an anger that I thought I never possessed. I had wasted ten whole years of my life on someone who had used–and yes, abused me.

I heard the door open as Katie returned. ‘Here we are a nice cup of… Why, Samantha, what’s the matter?’ she asked.

‘I–I’ve changed my mind, I want to fight for what’s mine. Could we get an investigator to find out what’s been going on behind my back? If she wants a fight, then she’ll get one. I want to start my life afresh, but until this is out of the way, I can’t live in peace. Anyway, if I win, it might help pay for my cottage.’

Whoever said I can’t be assertive and make decisions?

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To Be Continued...

The Cove By Liz Wright

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.