She's out of my life
She's out of my life
And I don't know whether to laugh or cry
I don't know whether to live or die
And it cuts like a knife
She's out of my life

Michael Jackson/Josh Groban

Previously…

Dawn seemed to hesitate.

‘You’re dressed as a girl, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thought so; I could always tell; your voice is different when you dress. This is all a bit heavy isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ I sniffed.

‘Okay, hon, I’ll see you soon, ’Byeee.’

‘Mmm. ’Bye.’

I switched off my ’phone. Here was I, all happy at finding a new life and everything and yet I was still hurting so badly from my marriage break up. I wondered how long it would take for the ache in my heart would go away.

And now the story continues…

‘Hi, Jocasta, are you in the middle of anything?’ The reception on my mobile wasn’t great, but what can you expect in the wilds of Devon?

‘No, only rolling some pastry. Is everything all right?’

‘Yes, fine thanks. The cottage is mine so I can move in when I like. I was thinking, is it okay for me to stay with you one more night and start afresh at the cottage tomorrow?’

‘You can stay as long as you like, dear, but is the cottage ready for you to live in yet? I mean is it clean and do you have everything you need?’

‘Probably not, but I’ve gotta to start somewhere. Look, Jo, my sister, Dawn, rang me a short while ago and I’m meeting her in the pub at around six. I didn’t want to say much to her on the ’phone so we’re going to have a good old chinwag when she comes.’

‘Is she going to stay overnight?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘Has she got anywhere to stay?’

‘Not yet, I think she’s going to sort things out when she gets here.’

‘We’ll put her up for the night, if you like?’

‘Are you sure, Jo? I seem to be taking over your life.’

‘Oh, I think this is all frightfully exciting. We don’t get much excitement here. Watching someone paint a front door is a bit of an event here. Anyway, I’m dying to meet your sister. I want to get all the dirt about you when you were a child. There’s plenty of room in this old vicarage…’

‘I was a perfect child, I’ll have you know,’ I interrupted her.

‘I bet you were, dear, but I’d prefer an unbiased opinion.’

‘Dawn’s not unbiased.’

‘Anyway, drag her back here after your drinking binge, but remember that the doors are locked after midnight.’

‘Yes, mum.’

‘Don’t you “yes, mum” me, young lady, I’m only two years older than you.’

‘Okay, sis, see you later.’ I heard her giggle as she disconnected.

I looked around and did a bit of tidying. Then I remembered a ’phone number that Millie had given me.

I picked up my ’phone.

‘I must change this ’phone.’ I thought to myself for the umpteenth time.

Dialling the number, I waited for a few moments.

‘Hello?’

‘Mrs Pearson? You don’t know me, I’m Samantha Smart…’

‘Oh yes, m’dear; you’m staying with Vicar and his family and have just taken over Albert Mogg’s cottage…’

I laughed. ‘So you do know me?’

‘Yes, m’dear.’

‘Well, I understand that you and Mr Pearson looked after the cottage for Mr Mogg?’

‘Mmm, ‘e’s a strange old stick, got a temper like a Torpoint chicken.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Never mind, m’dear,’

‘Well, erm. I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind continuing?’

‘Ow much?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Ow much yer payin, m’ducks?’

‘How much am I paying? What did Mister Mogg pay you?’

‘Five pun.’

‘Five pounds, was that an hour?’

‘Yes’m.’

‘I’ll pay you six pounds an hour; and your husband?’

‘Same’m.’ God this is hard work; I’ll have to take evening classes.

‘I’ll pay the same for him for doing the outside; the same times as you had before. Is that okay?’

‘Yes’m.’

This was so difficult.

‘Look, Mrs Pearson, I’ll get the vicar’s wife to ring you. Is that okay?’

‘Yes’m.’

I said goodbye and wiped my fevered brow. I hadn’t time to spend all night struggling with someone who could not speak my sort of English, so I took the coward’s way out and rang Jocasta.

‘Jo?’

‘Yes’m?’

‘Don’t you start. I’ve just had a sort of conversation with Mrs Pearson, I have agreed that she should carry on, but I did want her to come and help tidy when I move in tomorrow but we have a language problem.’

‘Yes her dialect can be as thick as clotted cream but I do wonder if she puts it on a bit sometimes. Do you want me to speak to her?’

‘Could you? That would be great. Look I have to rush because I’m meeting my sister in a couple of hours and I need to change…’

‘But you’ve no clothes at the cottage.’

‘Oh hell–Sorry, Jo.’

‘That’s all right, dear. Look, why don’t you come back here? It isn’t really practical for you to get ready at the cottage now, is it?’

‘I suppose…’

‘You sound like the girls, if they don’t get their way–all whiney. You know it makes sense, dear.’

‘Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.’

‘Good girl.’

I could hear her giggle as she put the ’phone down and I smiled; I was sounding like a little girl who had lost her dolly.

As I made my way back to the vicarage, I wondered what Dawn would think of me and what I had done. I wanted to make a good impression for my sister. She had seen me before, but things were different now and the last thing I wanted was for her to see a man dressed as a woman.

I wondered what vitriolic poison Olivia had put in her ear. Did she just stick to the facts or had she metaphorically stuck the knife in?

Arriving at The Vicarage, I went through the back door into the kitchen–it was never locked–to find Jocasta sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea reading a magazine.

‘Hi, Jo.’

She looked up and smiled.

‘Hi, yourself. Things seem to be going rather quickly for you at the moment.’

‘I know, I’m dying for a normal day where nothing much happens. Perhaps when I’ve settled in at the cottage, things might calm down.’

‘I wouldn’t bank on it. I’ve spoken to Mrs P and she is going to be at the cottage at about seven in the morning…’

‘Seven, but that’s the middle of the night.’

‘Don’t over dramatise. We country folk start early and finish early, it’s our way.’

‘I thought you came from Birmingham originally?’

‘Yes, but it’s the osmosis–’

‘–Osmosis?’

‘Yes, it gets under the skin. You start off all urbane and streetwise and then you come to a place like this. You mustn’t fight it, just assimilate.’

‘Is this a secret Borg colony and am I experiencing a strange yet wonderful episode of Star Trek?’

‘You like it too? We are soulmates–but as you haven’t much time to get ready, I suggest that you beam up to your room and get moving or you’ll be late.’

‘But the engines canna take it, Captain.’

‘You’re as mad as me. My mum told me never to marry a vicar as I would get bats in the belfry. Now off you go before The Klingons arrive.’

‘You mean?’

‘Yes, Jen and Phillipa.’

We giggled like schoolgirls and I rushed upstairs to get ready.

At twenty past six, I was waiting for Dawn outside the Toad and Tart. I was wearing a nice frock I had borrowed from Jo. It wasn’t at all mumsie, being a Dorothy Perkins knee length grey silk dress with a slightly plunging neckline. It looked lovely and the overall look was enhanced by the fact that I had attached my breastforms using the glue provided and was able to hide the joins with the judicial use of makeup. It felt a bit strange having the breastforms actually as part of me, but I liked the weight and the feeling that it gave me. I hoped that when I grew my own I would feel even better. I had washed my hair and brushed it until it shone. It felt soft and nice, but I definitely needed to go to the salon. I had taken a lot of trouble putting on my makeup and don’t think I have ever done a better job. I felt very girlie and despite my problems, I was very pleased with the way I looked.

To finish things off, I had also borrowed some black high-heeled shoes from Jo, and my stocking-clad legs looked slim and, to my biased view, rather nice. So here I was waiting at a table outside the pub, dressed as nice as I could be, scanning the crowd for my sister whom I hadn’t seen for over two years.

I wondered if she would forgive me for not contacting her for so a long time. I know she said that everything was okay over the ’phone, but face to face–

Then I saw her–she hadn’t changed a bit. As always, she was beautiful, and dressed so elegantly, an old fashioned word but the truth in her case. Our eyes met and she recognized me immediately. I stood up and hurried over to her. She opened her arms and we embraced like we used to before all the bad things happened.

We both cried and I’m sure the village had yet more to gossip about as we tried as hard as possible to make up for lost time.

‘Oh, honey, you look lovely.’

‘So do you, Dawn. Oh, I’ve missed you sooo much.’

We found a quiet spot up on the balcony, overlooking the tranquil harbour, our glasses of chardonnay before us as we caught up with each other’s news.

She showed me photos of her gorgeous children. I still wasn’t used to being an auntie and I hoped that I would have them as regular visitors as quickly as possible.

Once we had caught up on each other’s general gossip–boring to everyone but family–we got down to the serious business of the day.

Dawn gazed at me and sipped her drink. ‘Samantha Katharine Smart: that’s a nice name.’

‘I like it.’

‘Mmm, it suits you. Are you going to stay as Samantha or are you going back to being Tom in the future?’

‘No, this is me, warts and all. Now I’m Samantha, I’m staying Samantha. In fact I’m going to see a doctor and get the ball rolling to make me as much of a whole woman that I can be.’

‘You are serious, aren’t you? I thought you were a crossdresser: that’s what you told me and our parents.’

‘That’s what I thought–superficially, but deep down in my heart, I knew that it wasn’t enough. I hate labels anyway and I didn’t want to pin myself down by labelling myself too definitely, so I just said I was a crossdresser. I even fooled myself that what I was doing was just getting enjoyment out of wearing girls’ clothes; but I was kidding myself. I wanted to be a girl, I am a girl and no amount of internal questioning is going to change that. Oh, it’s coming out all jumbled up, but you know what I mean.’

She smiled and nodded.

‘So what happened between you and Olivia?’

I told her everything–the lot. About Olivia’s betrayal and my subsequent decision to start afresh in Penmarris and everything that had happened since my arrival.

‘You don’t do things by halves do you? I never thought that you had it in you. Let’s face it, love, Olivia can be domineering–just like her sod of a father. You were the submissive one in that relationship. I tried to warn you, but love is blind. Anyway, when Olivia rang me, she asked where you were. I think she assumed that you would come running to me and was rather surprised that you hadn’t. She said something about a misunderstanding––’

‘–Misunderstanding? I don’t think you could misunderstand the fact that they were humping like randy rabbits–in my house, not a hotel or anywhere like that–but the home where we had lived all our married life together. The bitch.’

‘It doesn’t sound as if you’re going to give her a second chance.’

‘No way, José. I might have done, but she lied to me about it when I spoke to her on the ’phone, and… and she was breathing heavily. I bet she had him in bed with her again and they had just–just–’

I broke down in tears. I thought I’d been getting over it, the shock and the betrayal, but the wounds were too deep and too recent. How long would I have to go on beating my brains out over this?

Dawn hugged me and after a while, I calmed down. Luckily, the balcony where we were was empty apart from us, so my display of emotions wouldn’t get around the village–I hoped. There were always telescopes and binoculars I suppose…

I wiped my eyes as Dawn went for more supplies. Looking in the little mirror of my compact, I made some repairs. It was lucky that I had used some “industrial strength” mascara today, thinking things might get a bit emotional and, it being waterproof, the damage was minimal.

Dawn returned with more wine and two packets of Hedgehog flavour crisps,* a revival of an old brand by an enterprising local farmer who had a glut of potatoes. Half the proceeds from sales going to St Tiggywinkles–of course.**

‘Feeling better, sis?’ Dawn asked.

‘Yes, thanks. I find I cry a lot at the moment.’

‘Not surprising really, after what you’ve been through. Look, I agree absolutely that you should take Olivia to the cleaners. A vast proportion of your adult life has gone into making her happy and all she’s done is throw it back in your face. I bet your investigator will dig up loads of juicy secrets that neither she nor her sodding father want you to know about. You’ve been used and abused and she should pay through the nose for it.’

‘Oh God, what a mess.’

‘Divorce always is, but you must try to stay positive. Moving down to this delightful village and starting afresh is a very positive step. Your share of the money from our parents’ house will give you stability and help to free you from money worries. You’ll be able to be the artist you always wanted to be. It was a crying shame that selfish cow made you stop painting.’

‘Thanks, Dawn.’

‘What for?’

‘For being here for me.’

‘I’ve lost you once, sis, and I’m not going to lose you again. Anyway it’s always handy having a babysitter fairly local. Hayley and Timothy always like a new victim to practice their evil wiles on.’

‘They aren’t that bad, are they?’

‘No, it just seems like it.’

We both laughed, and then my ’phone rang. The smile disappeared from my face as soon as I recognized the number, it was Nigel–my soon-to-be-ex-father-in-law.

‘It’s Nigel. Should I answer it?’

‘He’ll just keep trying if you don’t. You know what he’s like.’

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s Nigel.’

‘Yes?’

‘I have spoken to Olivia and I can only say that if I had known that she was going to marry a sodding pervert, I would’ve stopped the wedding.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You bastard; dressing up as woman and forcing her to have sex with you wearing women’s clothes. Fucking mental cruelty, that’s what I call it. And to think I had you working in my company with all those impressionable young girls, I ought to string you up by what balls you have–’

I threw the phone away. It was a good throw and it landed with a most satisfying plop in the harbour.

‘What did he say?’

‘Things I don’t want to repeat.’

‘How do you feel?’

‘I ought to feel scared, angry, confused and terrified, but I don’t–not any more. That ’phone call just confirmed what I guess I knew when all this blew up in my face–Olivia is a lying, cheating bitch and her father’s a foul-mouthed, bullying tyrant. If they want a fight, they’ll get it.’

‘That’s my girl, you go get ’em!’

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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.

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* http://www.hedgehogsaspets.com/hedgehog-crisps/
** http://www.sttiggywinkles.org.uk/