Previously…

I was amazed at how quickly the weather could change here. I hoped and prayed that David and the crew were safe and also the people on the ship too.

Just then the ’phone burbled at me.

‘Hi, Sam, It’s Jo, they’re safe and on the way back. Other lifeboats got there before them and the freighter had run aground on the sandbank further west. No lives were lost.

‘Thank God.’

‘Yes, I’m so relieved. Look, as the weather’s improved, I’m going down to the lifeboat station to meet the lifeboat when she comes in. The girls are coming too, do you want to come?’

‘Yes, I’ll meet you at the end of my lane; when?’

‘Give me ten minutes, ’bye.’

I dressed quickly in jeans and top, added a quick flick of makeup, brushed my hair and I was ready. As I opened the door, Tammy, shot out without a goodbye or a thank you, and scampered of down the lane to Abby’s place. I wondered what Abby would think when I told her my story.

And now the story continues…

‘Hi, Jo,’

‘Hello, Samantha; weather’s a lot better.’

‘Yes, I can’t get used to these quick changes.’

We hugged and then walked down to the quay and along to the lifeboat station which was situated at the side of the harbour. As we arrived, there was quite a crowd waiting for the crew to return. We all nodded our welcomes and stared out to sea, waiting for the lifeboat to appear between the headlands of the cove.

The weather had improved so much that you would never have thought that there had been a storm such a short time ago. Apart from the pavements still being a bit wet in places and the sea being slightly choppy, it seemed like a normal summer’s day.

Kids and adults were on the beach, people were walking along the quay, the shops and cafés were busy, where a short while ago, the place had been deserted while out to sea a possible tragedy was being averted.

I held Jo’s hand, trying to comfort her while we waited. There was always a chance, even now, that something might go awry. The harbour looked deceptively calm but who knows how bad things were on the open sea outside. After about a quarter of an hour, the familiar orange superstructure of the lifeboat appeared around the headland and negotiated the narrow entrance into the harbour. The relief that I could feel around me was obvious.

Everybody waved and cheered as the boat approached and finally stopped at the bottom of the slipway.

Shortly afterwards the weary crew disembarked and trudged up the slip to where we were waiting. I must admit feeling a large lump in my throat as I watched loved ones hugging and kissing one another. The coxswain, a young woman about my age, was embraced by a man before she returned wearily to the lifeboat to help set her on her cradle before winching her up the slip into the boathouse.

I was somewhat surprised to see my car repairer, Mr Potts, among crew; he carried a tool box in his knarled hands and I guessed he was probably the boat's mechanic. I was tempted to ask him about my Beemer, but thought that it wasn’t really the appropriate time. As they winched her up the slipway I noticed that the lifeboat's name was RNLB Sir Tremaine Fairbairn and wondered if he might have been the formidable Lady Fairbairn's husband.

After saying ‘hi,’ to a decidedly tired-looking David, I slipped away and headed for home. This was no place for me at the moment–I was surplus to requirements now David was back with Jo and the two girls. I wondered how I would feel if a loved one of mine had to stop whatever they were doing and set off instantly, in reply to the maroon in all sorts of weather to rescue people from a raging sea. Although I knew I would go mad with worry, I would feel immensely proud of my beloved. It must be very similar for the families of fisherman who supplied the village and surrounding areas with a fresh catch. The hazards they often had to face to bring the catch ashore almost defy belief.

As I made my way up the lane, I wondered whether I should go and see Abby straight away.

Glancing down at myself–in jeans and a top–I realised that I didn’t look particularly alluring, so I decided to go home and change into something prettier.

Letting myself in, I went straight to the bedroom to decide what to wear. I wanted to look pretty for Abby or as pretty as possible, anyway. I still thought that I wasn’t that nice looking–a crisis of confidence maybe? Probably, anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to make the most of my limited assets, as it were. I searched in my wardrobe among the new clothes recently purchased and in seconds, I had most of the things out and on the bed.

After much soul searching and trying different things on, I decided to keep it simple; after all, I couldn’t really glam up at this time of day, so I ended up in a white cheesecloth peasant-style top and black knee length cotton skirt. Pretty, but not over the top, I thought.

I slapped on a bit of makeup, trying to use a bit of restraint to avoid the pancake look, I decided on a minimalist effect; just enough to cover the nooks and crannies and give my face a bit of colour. I just brushed my hair until it shone; it still had the shape that had been created in the salon and I felt it suited me.

After one final inspection of myself and, with not a little bit of dread, I smiled at my reflection, put on my black, low heeled shoes, picked up my bag and let myself out of the cottage.

As I walked up the lane leading to Abby’s cottage, I wondered how things would go. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure how she felt about me and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. Anyway, it was too late now as I had reached her garden gate. I pushed it open and strode up the path to her cottage.

As usual, there were several cats hanging about, either sleeping, licking themselves or hunting for things in the undergrowth. I swear I recognised Tammy’s rear end as she stalked some unseen pray in the tall grass.

As before, I was almost overpowered by the fragrance of the gloriously colourful flowers. It reminded me of Monet’s gardens at Giveny, the only thing missing were the Lily ponds.

The front door was open and I wondered if Abby ever closed it. With my knuckles, I knocked on the door and waited.

A few seconds later I heard a distant, ‘Come in,’ so I went in search of the voice.

Abby was out the back, sitting on a veranda. I hadn’t really seen much of her back garden and smiled when I saw that there was a Lily pond. But I was more attracted to Abby sitting on a garden chair with a kitten fast asleep on her lap. She smiled as she saw me and I realised that it was a smile of genuine pleasure. My heart flipped as I saw her pretty face looking up at me.

‘Hi.’ I said; my voice a bit hoarse for some reason.

‘Hello, Samantha, that’s a pretty top.’

‘Oh, just something I dragged on.’

‘I bet. Well it’s nice to see you. Come and sit down. I’ll throw this urchin off in a moment and then go and get us a drink.’

‘Can I do that? The kitten looks so comfortable there and so do you.’

She looked at the cat and stroked it gently.

‘Mmm, she is a sweetie, isn’t she? Okay, if you go into the kitchen and look in the fridge, there’s a jug of ginger beer in there, the glasses are on the shelf.’

I went into the kitchen and poured the drinks into some glasses and took them outside. The moment I returned, the kitten woke up, stretched and jumped off Abby’s lap.

Abby took the proffered drink and had a sip. She was looking very pretty in a light blue smock and leggings. Talking about leggings, her legs were lovely…

‘So, how are you?’ she asked as I felt myself go red. Had I been starring at her?

‘Oh, f—f—fine thanks. I went down to the quay with Jocasta to wait for the lifeboat to come back.’

‘All safe?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thank God. I wish I was brave enough to do what they do.’

‘Amen to that.’ I said.

I took a sip of the sweet peppery drink and winced slightly as it went down my throat. I had forgotten how potent it was!

‘Well, Samantha, it’s lovely to see you again.’

‘Yes.’

I was not very conversational as I was feeling very nervous. Abby must have noticed.

‘What's wrong, Sam?’

I looked at her and wondered if I had the strength to say what needed to be said. I looked at her and swallowed.

‘Abby?’

‘Yes.’

I took a deep breath.

‘I—I may be barking up the wrong tree, and getting the wrong signals but…but–look we’ve only met once, well twice if you include now, but I—I.’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re not helping here are you? I—I have…’

‘Feelings for me?’

I looked up from staring at my glass and into her wonderful liquid eyes.

I nodded.

She smiled and then reaching over put her hand on top of mine.

‘Same here. It’s daft really, two grown women with a love at first sight moment. It is love isn’t it?’

I nodded, not really believing what I was hearing.

‘As soon as I saw you, Sam, I thought that you were special. Before you said a word, I could feel this sort of attraction. Did you feel the same?’

‘Y—yes I did. I saw you and then I—I was smitten.’

It was nice having her warm hand over mine. The connection we had made felt strong and vibrant. I considered not telling her about me. I didn’t want to spoil the moment but I couldn’t live a lie the way Olivia obviously had with me. I had to tell her everything, even though it might mean the finish of something that hadn’t even started.

I withdrew my hand and she looked at me. She could see that I was upset.

‘What’s wrong, have I done something?’

‘N—no, it’s not you, it’s me. Before we get in too deep, I need to tell you about me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.’

‘I don’t understand–’

‘Let me say this, while I feel brave enough. I will understand if you want nothing to do with me afterwards but please hear me out first.’

‘Okay, but it can’t be that terrible.’

She sat back, a frown on her pretty face, no doubt wondering what terrible things I might reveal.

I nursed my glass as I spoke, neither wanting nor daring to look at her.

‘There isn’t any easy way to say this, Abby. I may look like a girl, b—but, I—I was born a boy.’

‘So was I, sort of…’

‘Please let me finish. I was born a boy and grew up as one. I never felt happy with myself and have believed as long as I remember that something was not quite right with me. I began wearing girls’ clothes almost before I stopped crawling, it was a sort of compulsion, I suppose. My parents tried hard to make me happy as a boy, but I think they realised that I was not going end up as a man even though I was in denial myself, thinking that I was a just a crossdresser.’

I stopped for a moment and swallowed; this was so much harder than I thought. I daren’t look at her. She wasn’t saying anything. Was that good or bad? I took a deep breath and continued.

‘When I married Olivia, I was so happy, as she seemed to accept me as such. As I just said, I thought I was a crossdresser too, as I wanted to have successful marriage and have babies and lead a normal life. The sex was good, great really, but deep inside, I suppose I realised that what I had wasn’t what I wanted. Olivia at this time had grown cool toward me and I now know that she had a succession of lovers. Also, she’d had a couple of abortions before I knew her, so you can see that my marriage was near enough dead. Then I caught her in bed in my house having sex with another man. I walked out and came here. I have since found that she is pregnant again and that makes me feel so sad.’

My mouth had gone dry so I took a sip of my drink, still not daring to look at her. She was very quiet so I had no idea how she was taking it.

‘Since I’ve been here, I’ve met some wonderful people and made some important decisions too. I realise that I am a girl and always have been. I intend having SRS and become as much of a woman as possible. I no longer want to be Tom in any way shape or form and I want to live here permanently, do some painting, and open a gallery. Most importantly of all, I am divorcing Olivia and want to draw a line under my old life. Now I know that I haven’t expressed myself very well, but I really needed to tell you about me before things went too far and–and––’

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I dropped my glass, put my head in my hands and broke down.

I heard her move, was she leaving me, not able to face someone like me. Had I failed…?

Then, I drew my breath in as I felt her arms around me and through my tears, I looked up into her face. She was crying too. She didn’t have to say anything because I knew instantly that she accepted me for who, and what, I was–a woman. Our lips met and I could taste the saltiness of our combined tears as we cemented our love, a love that I dearly hoped would last the test of time.

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

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