When I awoke the following morning, I knew, before I even drew the curtains, that this was not going to be a day for going for a tramp along the coast path, going to the beach or any of the touristy things that erm, tourists do.


Changes
Chapter 24
By Susan Brown

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart

Jim Steinman / Bonnie Tyler

Previously…

Thinking about it, I knew that storms lay ahead, especially regarding Olivia and Nigel and I had to make a decision as to whether I should speak to Abby about my feelings for her, but just for now, I was content.

And now the story continues…

When I awoke the following morning, I knew, before I even drew the curtains, that this was not going to be a day for going for a tramp along the coast path, going to the beach or any of the touristy things that erm, tourists do.

But, after all, I wasn’t a tourist, but a salty old local, who could tell the weather by the smell of the air or tea leaves in the bottom of the cup or…who was I kidding? I was as ignorant as anyone else. I drew the curtains and there it was, raining hard and very windy, not a good day for anyone who needed to venture out. The sea looked a bit rough with lots of white horses, but this wasn’t a storm, it was just a typical English summer’s day.

I supposed I had been rather spoilt by the weather–it had been pretty good apart from the storm the other night, so I shouldn’t complain. But complaining about the weather is almost a national sport in the UK.

‘Right.’ I thought, ‘lets get cracking!

Then I stopped in my tracks, I had an appointment with the doctor at eleven! How could I forget that?

I had an hour and a half though, so there was no rush (who was I kidding).

Before I did anything, I removed my breast forms using the special solvent. It felt strange not having breasts attached because I had got used to the weight and feel of them. Luckily, there were no signs of chaffing or soreness on my skin but I decided that I would leave them off for a while to give my skin a chance to breath and recover.

At least it was cooler and less humid today and, as I had my shower, I was thinking of my up and coming appointment with Doctor Marcia. How would she treat me; had she dealt with patients like me before? Worrying about it wouldn’t really help so I concentrated on this afternoon.

I had to stay in for the delivery I was expecting. Goody. I smiled at the prospect of getting my artists’ supplies. I was aching to put things down on canvas.

Drying my hair with a towel in the bedroom, my eyes were drawn towards the drawing of Abby. She had such a kind, happy face and was so pretty in my eyes.

I decided to wear a beige silk top and wine coloured knee-length skirt. Comfortable and pretty for seeing the doctor this morning.

I ate my breakfast at the kitchen table listening to the local news and weather on the radio. Not much going on locally, the only thing of interest being a lawnmower being pinched from a shed. The weather report was a bit more optimistic, saying that it should start brightening up a bit later.

Just as I was finishing up my cornflakes, I could hear a sound coming from the kitchen door. I recognised the sound and as I opened the door and saw a small damp cat run in; it was obvious that Tammy was somewhat wet, so I grabbed a towel and dried her off a bit. After that, she made herself at home in front of the small range and commenced licking herself.

Smiling, I went about my chores thinking that a woman’s work is never done.

Just as I was about to wash up my breakfast things, there was a noise and I heard the front door open.

‘Ere, ‘m’

I went out into the hall and there was a rather damp Mrs. Pearson standing in the hall taking off her wet raincoat.

‘Hello, Mrs. Pearson, here to do some cleaning?’

I assumed that she had a key and I suppose that was normal. I just hoped that she wouldn’t burst into the bedroom or something while I was making mad passionate love to Abb…STOP IT, SAMANTHA!

‘Or ri, m’dear?’

I actually understood that, perhaps I was getting more of the salty old local after all, m’ducks!

‘Yes thanks.’

‘Pizzen down out yonder.’

‘Raining? Yes I had noticed. I’ll get out of your way, shall I?’

‘Yes’m, tay fust?’

‘Tay? Oh tea, you want a cup of tea. Yes, I’ll make it…’

‘No, ’m.’

She picked up the kettle and started doing the necessary.

As she wasn’t exactly talkative and I didn’t want a headache at this time of the morning, I left her and went up to my studio. As I left of the kitchen I noticed that Tammy had made herself at home and was fast asleep on the rug.

I picked up my ’phone from the bedroom and wondered if I should make the bed or something. Not knowing the cleaning woman’s etiquette and not wanting to break any union rules, I just left it. I would soon find out what she actually did and take care of anything she missed.

In the studio, I pulled the curtains back and saw that the rain had eased slightly and the wind seemed to have abated. Now I could see past the edge of the cove, so that must be a good sign, mustn’t it?

Sitting on the sofa, I decided to call Abby about Tammy. It wasn’t just an excuse to hear her voice–honestly.

‘Hello, Abby, it’s Samantha.’

‘Oh hi, Samantha, how are you today?’

‘I’m fine, thanks. Look, just a quick call to let you know that Tammy’s arrived again.’

‘Right, chuck her out if she becomes a nuisance.’

‘She’s no bother…erm, how’re my kittens?’

‘They’re fine, come up anytime to have a look at them?’

‘May I?’

‘Of course, I told you that yesterday, anyway, it’ll be nice to see you.’

‘You too.’

There was a bit of a pause and then I said, ‘Look, I have to go now, I can hear Mrs. Pearson tramping upstairs. I think she’s made me a cup of tea, but I’m not too sure as I haven’t got the hang of her accent yet.’

‘Yes.’ She laughed prettily, ‘her accent’s as thick as clotted cream.’

‘Anyway, if the weather gets a bit better later on this afternoon, can I pop up?’

‘Of course, come when you like after 4.30 that’s when I close up the pottery, I’ll have some ginger beer ready.’

‘Great, it’s lethal stuff, but I like it. I’ve got to wait in for a delivery of artists’ materials but hopefully that will come before that. Bye then?’

‘Bye, see you later.’

As I put the ’phone down, I sighed, just hearing her voice made me go all wobbly. This was silly, how could I be like this at my age? I ought to know better–after all I had been through with Olivia. Anyway, she probably doesn’t think the same about me and there is always the big thing hanging over my head–correction, the not so big thing between my legs! Perhaps Doctor Marcia had some pruning sheers? Ouch! Chopping the thing off wouldn’t help, I needed my outie converted to an innie so that I could make mad passionate love and swing off the chandeliers with Ab…STOP IT!

Lets face it, I had a handicap: it wouldn’t be one for a man, but I wasn’t a man and I wondered if I ever had been. Would she, even if she was interested in having a relationship with me; want to know someone like me, who was physically anyway, still a male. I assumed that she liked girls, why I don’t know, it was just an impression that I picked up. Maybe she was bi? All theses questions and no answers. Lets face it, the signals I had felt when I met her could have just been false ones and she didn’t fancy me or want to have a relationship with me or anyone else for that matter.

Mrs. Pearson came in and smiled a toothy grin, her dentures appeared to be the wrong size for her mouth, but I am perhaps being unkind.

‘Ere, y’m,’ she handed me a cup of tea.

‘Thanks, Mrs. Pearson.’

She just nodded and wondered out. A few minutes later I could hear the sound of a Hoover going so she was already doing her stuff.

Suddenly I thought about my car; the mechanic had promised it back by now hadn’t he? I would have to ring Jo and ask her to call him, it wasn’t worth my doing it as I hadn’t taken Devonish For Dummies yet or whatever it’s called.

Still, I didn’t need my car yet so it wasn’t that urgent. I’d wait until tomorrow before I began worrying. Let’s face it, in this part of the world, everyone is so laid back that they are virtually horizontal and why should I get my knickers in a twist over a slight delay in the return of my wheels? Mind you if he scratches it, I will not be a happy bunny!

Glancing through the window, the rain had started coming down harder again. I decided it was just going to be one of those days. I ’phoned Katie.

‘Hi, Katie, it’s Sam.’

‘Hello, Samantha, I was going to ring you anyway.’

‘Why?’

I have a prelim report from the investigator, but I don’t want to say anything over the ’phone.’

‘Okay, well I wanted to talk to you anyway, but I’ve got an appointment this morning and have to stay in for a delivery this afternoon.’

‘Well, I’m not free until then anyway. Shall I come over to you after lunch?’

‘That would be fine, I’ll see you then.’

‘Okay, bye.’

‘Bye, hon.’

I put the ’phone down. It looked like I was going to have a busy day after all.

I spent the rest of the morning until my appointment, trying to keep out of the way of the duster-wielding Mrs. Pearson. I found myself going on line and ordering a few more bits and pieces from the artists supplier. I liked this ordering on line business, much easier than trying to find a shop to visit.

Then I rang Millie.

‘Hi, Millie, how’s business?’

‘Picking up, Samantha, still a lot quieter than last year.’

‘Can I pick your brains?’

‘Pick away.’

‘As you know, I have studio and I’m going to start painting again. Hopefully, I will also have some works completed a while back that are in storage up in the attic of my old house. When I get them back, I want to put them up for sale. What I want is somewhere that I can open as an art gallery; I will hang my paintings and drawings and hopefully get some buyers. Also, I want to have it so that local artists can sell their works and I would get some sort of commission for hanging them. What do you reckon?’

‘That sounds like it’s a great idea; there are a few artists in the cove and I’m sure they would love to get involved.’

‘So the question is, where?’

‘Mmm, well you know Abby’s pottery shop?’

‘Yes.’

‘Next door to that is an old gift shop. It hasn’t been occupied for a few years. I could find out the score and let you know. I would need to find the owner and also check with the local council to see if we could change the usage. I don’t think that would be a problem because it’s cultural and generally, councils love the arts.’

‘That sounds great.’

‘Okay, leave it with me and I’ll put out a few feelers.’

‘Thanks, Millie, you’re a star!’

‘Well I will get a commission so I must be a tarnished star.’

We both laughed and said goodbye.

Eventually Mrs. Pearson finally finished her work and with a, ‘be zein yer, down along,’ she was off. I wasn’t sure what she said but I think it was goodbye.

The weather started clearing up in earnest after Mrs. Pearson left and soon, the clouds parted and it stopped raining. I could see steam rising as the roads and pavements quickly dried in the now strong sunlight.

It was time for my appointment with the doctor, I made sure that my makeup and hair were okay and then picking up my coat, I went out. Luckily, the rain was holding off and it looked like it was brightening up a bit, so, hopefully, I wasn’t going to get wet.

Making my way up the surgery steps, I wondered what sort of reception I might receive. I was glad that Candice was on holiday and hoped that her replacement was a bit more user friendly.

Behind the desk was a youngish girl who didn’t look any older than sixteen. She looked up and smiled.

‘Can I help you?’

‘I have an appointment with Doctor Marcia?’

‘Right, please take a seat. It is Ms Smart, isn’t it?’

‘Samantha, please.’

‘Right, won’t be a minute, Samantha.’

‘She seems nice.’ I thought as I sat down in the empty waiting room. That was the advantage of going private, less chance of catching something nasty from someone else.

‘She’s ready for you now.’

I was led to a door and the girl let me in.

‘Here she is, Mum.’

I walked in and a rather pleasant, if slightly plump, woman stood up and came around her desk.

‘Hello, I’m Marcia and you’re the famous dragon slayer?’

‘Oh please, I’ll never live it down.’

‘It will go down in folk legend. I hope that you didn’t have to have a go at my daughter, Rachel?’

‘No she was excellent. Look, I’m sorry if I upset Ms Cringeing-Drawers.’

Rachel giggled and Dr Marcia roared with laughter. ‘But what a splendid name for her,’ she said, ‘You must be a Goon Show fan like Brian and I–we have a number of CDs and listen to it sometimes on BBC Radio 7 at breakfast-time. Don’t worry about Ms Cringeing-Drawers, she fully deserved it. I just wish I’d had the guts to say something to her, but there you are. However, enough of that, come and sit down.’

She moved behind her desk and, sitting down looked at me.

‘Right, I don’t have your notes and I assume that they will be transferred down here presently, but knowing the NHS, it could take a few weeks if not a month before I get a chance to look at them, so we’ll have to play it by ear so, how can help you?’

I was feeling nervous but I came here for a reason and I couldn’t back out now.

I cleared my throat. ‘Wh—when you get my notes you’ll notice something.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Firstly my name is different.’

‘So you’ve changed it, that’s not–’

‘Also,’ I interrupted, ‘you will see that genetically I am a—a—man.’

She looked at me sharply.

‘A man?’

‘Yes.’

‘Right, so erm, I think…look, tell me what’s going on, I won’t interrupt.’

I told her my story about dressing as a girl when I was younger; always having feminine feelings and the fact that when I got married, I carried on dressing as often as I could–with my wife’s blessing. I told her how my feelings had gradually cemented themselves making me more and more want to change my gender physically. Then I told her of the problems that I had with my marriage and my decision to try and transition.

‘Well, Samantha, you have surprised me and that’s quite unusual. You look like a pretty woman and I would never have guessed that you were anything else. Is there anything wrong with you at the moment?’

‘Apart from being born into the wrong body? Nothing that I’m aware of.’

‘When did you last have tests done, you know, heart, lungs, blood pressure, bloods and urine?’

‘Not for a few years–no, more like five years.’

‘Okay, pop behind that screen, you’ll find a gown; take off all your clothes and put it on and then we’ll have a look at you.’

I won’t go into details about my examination; most of you have been through that sort of thing before. The upshot was that I seemed to be healthy enough but we would know more when the tests came back from the lab.

I dressed again and sat opposite Marcia again.

‘Right, all seems okay, physically. Now, are you sure that you want to transition?’

‘More certain than anything.’

‘Right, I’ll have to refer you for assessment. You do realise there are a number of hoops that you have to jump through and it might be some time before you can have an operation?'

‘That’s true, but I may go abroad, if needed.’

‘Hmm, well don’t rush into things. You have to do your Real Life Test and live as a woman for at least a year.’

‘But I have been. I’ve spent the last several years dressed more as a woman than a man.’

She looked at me thoughtfully.

‘Will you see a psychiatrist, a gender specialist and at least let her give an opinion?’

‘If you think I should.’

‘I do; you’re going through a divorce and trying to do all sorts of thing to change your life. You need guidance. I will always be here for you and the additional input from a psychiatrist will help you, I am sure of that. I am not saying that you can't be who you want to be, but you have to tread carefully and not make any mistakes that cannot be rectified at a later date. Okay?’

‘Okay.’ I said smiling doubtfully.

‘Good, now if your tests come back okay, I see no reason why you can’t at least start on hormones–except one.’

‘What’s that?’

‘How do you feel about children?’

‘Okay–in small portions.’

We both laughed.

‘Seriously, once you have taken hormones for a while, you will not be able to father a child, have you thought about that?’

‘Not really.’

‘You could get some sperm stored.’

‘That’s an idea. It’s not that I–I mean I always wanted to have children but my wife was never keen.’

‘You might meet someone who wants children too and this would be one way to get around the problem.’

I thought of Abby–but that was silly, it was too early to even think that she–

‘How do I go about it?’

I left the surgery with mixed feelings. Marcia was kind and understanding and knew a fair bit about transgender issues as she had worked at a clinic briefly just after leaving medical school. She wanted to be a GP so her career direction took her away from day to day contact with people like me. It was strange to find a doctor on my doorstep that actually knew about the problems, another reason for me to believe that I must have been destined to live in Penmarris.

I was able to sit out on my balcony at lunch time and as I ate my cheese and ham sandwich, I could see down below that the sun had brought out the holidaymakers again. The sea was very blue and the sand nearly white. It was so pleasant looking across to the beaches as people made their way to a favourite spot and settled down for a serious bit of sun worshipping, sand castling, or just splashing about in the sea.

I would have joined them, I think, if I didn’t have so much on today.

I washed up my lunch things and was just about to settle down with a good book, when I heard a knock on the door.

Opening it I saw that it was the two flat cap chappies that had delivered my mattress for me.

‘Got a delivery,’ said left-hand flat cap.

‘Sign ’ere,’ said right-hand flat cap.

After the tiresome legalities, they carried in two large parcels. They kindly took the boxes up to my studio and put them down in the middle of the floor. I thanked them and gave them a tip and after a synchronised touch on the peak of their caps, they were off again.

I was dying to open the boxes–it felt like it was Christmas–and was just about to rip one of the tapes when I heard the door knocker.

‘Oh bum!’ I exclaimed as I got up off the floor. I wasn’t pouting, honestly!

I opened the door and there was Katie.

‘Hello, love.’ I said as we had a kiss and a hug,

‘Hi, Sam.’

I made a quick cup of instant coffee for us and decamped into the sitting room. For a few minutes we talked about nothing special and then got down to business. Katie took some papers out of her briefcase and checked through them.

‘Right, as you know, we have an investigator having a look-see at what’s going on. She is good, very good and it’s surprising what she’s found out in so short a space of time.’

She looked at me and she was frowning.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Well I have to tell you that it’s not unusual to find things you may not want to hear about in cases like this. Do you want to know everything she’s found out?’

I looked at her a bit undecided then I took a deep breath.

‘I need to know. Once it’s all over I can draw a line through it and move on.’

‘Okay. First Nigel; he is, unfortunately, squeaky clean and very rich. He probably has had dealings that are shall we say, just on this side of the law in the past, but he appears to be lusting after a knighthood and doesn’t want anything to get in the way of achieving that. Hence he didn’t want you to divorce Olivia as there could be bad publicity for him. His threats about dragging dirt up into court won’t wash as he would not want that.’

‘Probably not if he wants a knighthood.’

‘Exactly; now we turn to your wife.’

I sat up straighter, wondering if there was anything I didn’t want to hear.

‘Did she tell you anything about her past?’

‘Yes, she told me that she went to a private girls’ school and then on to university where she met me. She always said that she had a boring life before she met me.’

Katie pursed her lips, swallowed and then looked at me.

‘She did go to private school–a number of them in fact. She was expelled from two and asked to leave her last one. She was a troublemaker and a bully. After leaving her last school, her father had a tutor brought in and she finished her studies at home. She was, erm, rather promiscuous–’

‘–But she said–’

‘–That she was a virgin?’

‘Yes.’ I replied, rather lamely.

‘I’m sorry, Samantha, she wasn’t: in fact she had an abortion when she was fifteen, and another at eighteen.’

‘Oh my God,’ I said putting my head in my hands.

‘In addition to that, she’s pregnant again. I take it the child isn’t yours?’

I looked up, tears in my eyes and just shook my head.

---

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.