Previously…

Eventually, we arrived at a car park near my house or what was my house, that is.

Tammy and Mike were waiting for us; it was agreed that they would be in reserve, so in case anything got nasty, they gave me a sort of panic button that would bring them running posthaste, if necessary.

Eventually, we drove up and stopped in front of the house in which I had spent my married life. I got out of the bus with the others, and couldn’t help thinking about how Olivia would react to me and whether this was going to be something of a mistake, coming here like this. But I had to have my paintings–they were my life’s work and part of me that I just did not want to let go or give up on.

I took a deep breath, brushed the hair out of my eyes and walked up the path that I knew so well. I still had a key, but I didn’t live here anymore, so I rang the bell and waited for Olivia.

And now the story continues…

My friends kept in the background, respecting my privacy and yet remaining close enough to come if and when needed.

It felt strange looking at the house that I had lived in for so long. I was aware a certain detachment though, as if I was no longer part of the fabric of the house. I noticed a shadow behind the frosted glass of the door and my heart was beating hard.

The door opened and there she was.

‘Hello, Tom; I’m glad you ca––’ Olivia stared over my shoulder, seeing the others watching–no doubt curiously–at us. ‘You didn’t come alone?’ Her disappointment showed clearly in her voice.

‘No, I thought that I might need help moving my stuff and anyway I wasn’t sure about the reception I might receive.’

She looked as she always did, bright, beautiful and sane, but she was wearing a loose dress that didn’t hide the bump of her baby.

‘Reception, I don’t–look are you coming in, Tom?’ She said stepping aside.

‘Is your father here?’

There was a frown on her still pretty face. ‘No, of course not, why do you ask?’

‘I just wondered––’

‘–If this was some sort of trap?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Daddy doesn’t even know that you’re here. He would shout at me if I told him.’

‘I don’t understand––’

‘Look, are you coming in?’

‘Can my friends help pick up the paintings?’

Once again an annoyed expression crossed her face. ‘All right; they are all in the conservatory ready for you, although I didn’t think that you would actually take them away today.’

I made no reply, not understanding what she meant. I followed her into the house, motioning to the others to come too.

The familiar sights and smells assaulted my senses, making me think of the last time I was here–discovering my wife in flagrante delicto with a strange man in the bedroom. There was no way I could begin to forgive her for that. I still wondered who had fathered the baby; one thing was certain and that was it wasn’t me.

Olivia turned to me. ‘I’ll be in the lounge. When you and your friends have packed your things, perhaps we can have a quiet talk?’

‘All right; it won’t take long.’

With an expression that was hard to read, she entered the lounge and quietly shut the door behind her. I turned to Abby, Jo and the others and led them to the conservatory and we got stuck into moving the paintings and the other equipment and supplies out to the bus. It took us some time during which Abby asked me, quietly, if everything was okay.

‘Yes, I’m fine. Evidently Nigel knows nothing about this.’

She gave me a peck on the cheek and squeezed my arm before picking up another couple of paintings and making her way to the bus.

Eventually everything was stashed away in the back of the mini-bus. After going to the kitchen to pick up a couple of carrier bags, I made my way upstairs to the bedroom. Everything looked the same, right down to the paperback that I had been reading the night before I left–still on my bedside table. I opened a few drawers and pulled out some personal stuff that I hadn’t taken with me on my hurried exit on that fateful day. On the dresser was a photo of Olivia and I on a sunny beach; we looked so happy there and I wondered where it all went wrong. Looking in the wardrobe and chest of drawers, I took out the women’s clothes that were still there and packed them in a case.

After one final, sad glance around, I carried the things down to the bus, where my friends were waiting. I gazed at them for a moment. ‘She wants me to go and talk to her. Do you mind waiting out here for a few minutes?’

They all nodded, saying nothing, but looking sympathetic. I returned to the house, took a deep breath and entered the lounge. Olivia was sitting in her favourite chair by the fire. She looked up as I came in and gave me a sad smile.

‘May I sit down?’

‘You don’t need to ask.’

I sat down facing her.

‘I–I thought you would come back to me, Tom,’ she said.

‘No, Olivia, not on any terms. I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done and I’m no longer Tom. I’m Samantha now and my life has moved on.’

She gazed at me and a tear ran down one cheek. ‘You are very pretty as a girl, but you know that don’t you.’

‘No, I’m not. I could never be as pretty as you.’

She looked into my eyes and shook her head. ‘You don’t even realise, do you? You are prettier than me: that’s why I got jealous of you. How could any man look more beautiful than me?’

‘Is that why you turned against my wearing women’s clothes?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Whenever we went out and you were dressed, all the men were watching you, not me.’

‘That’s rubbish! Why d’you think I married you? You were beautiful and I worshipped the ground you walked on. You were happy enough for me to dress before, so what changed.’

‘I wanted a man. I didn’t want to have a lesbian marriage. I thought that you would stop wearing the clothes and makeup if I was feminine enough for the both of us, Tom.’

‘I’m not Tom any more, I’m Samantha now.’

She sat up, gazing at me intensely.

‘It’s not too late, Tom. We can still make a go of it. I thought that if you came here, we could talk things through and you would see sense. We could raise the baby in a happy environment and Daddy said that he would find some work for you…’

‘What–as a loan shark?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t you know what your father does for a living?’

‘No, not really. He’s a businessman–an entrepreneur––’

‘–He sent one of his henchmen–his “heavies”–to my new home to threaten that if I didn’t come back to you, “things” would happen to me–and to people that I love.’

‘I don’t understand. What do you mean? Loan shark–threatening you. Daddy wouldn’t do anything like that, he’s a sweetie.’

‘Are you saying that you know nothing of you father’s business interests?’

‘No. You know that I’m no good at that sort of thing. You make it sound like Daddy’s a criminal.’

‘He is, only he hasn’t been caught yet. He runs a money lending business through nominees, but he’s the boss even though his name never appears on any paperwork. He lends money to people in dire straits and if those people default, he has a team of heavies that go around and break limbs.’

‘NO! Daddy would never do things like that. He’s a hard businessman, yes, and he has to make harsh decisions sometimes, but never anything like that! He wants a knighthood, so d’you think he’d jeopardise that? No, you’ve got it all wrong, and you’re only saying these things because you don’t like him. You’ve always resented the fact that he gave the house to me, haven’t you? He gave you a job, because I asked him to. You were never much good, but he kept you on because I begged him to. You would never make any money as an artist–and–and if you worked for him and had to travel a lot, you wouldn’t have time to dress up like a woman. That’s why he kept you on–to please me. So you see, that’s why you are wrong about him being nasty, he has only our interests at heart.’

I looked at her; tears streaming down her cheeks–a tissue shredding in her trembling hands. This wasn’t the strong, self-assured Olivia that I used to know. Or did I ever know her? There appeared to be things going on in her head that I had never seen or heard before. I felt sorry for her but I had to get everything out in the open.

‘So what about the abortions that you never told me about, or the fact that you were having casual sex with any man who’d have you?’

She looked at me and sniffed.

‘I–I didn’t want to tell you about the abortions. I was young and immature. It’s a part of my past I’m ashamed of. I only had sex with other men because I needed to. We had drifted apart and all you did when you were home was to dress up prettier than me and make me look like some sort of frump. I needed to be appreciated more as a woman and those other men did treat me like a woman. I know I was wrong and it wasn’t the answer, but you drove me to it––’

‘I drove you to it? How can you say that? I always loved you. It was you who went cold on me and wanted to change or mould me into the perfect man you thought I ought to be. I was straight with you form the very beginning. You knew before we were married that I had a feminine side. You seemed to like it at first and then your attitude towards me gradually changed. You grew cold and distant. On that last afternoon, I thought that we had a chance to sort ourselves out and when I came home and found you–found you–with that man, I knew that it was over between us.’

She wiped her eyes with the tissue and looked at me again. ‘So it’s over?’

‘Yes, Olivia. It’s time we moved on. You have a baby on the way and I’ve found someone else–’ I bit my tongue at this point–I had never intended to say anything about Abby, knowing that it might cause problems. I looked up at Olivia, who had gone very pale.

‘You–you’ve found someone else? Who is she–or is it a he? Is it one of your friends that came today?’

‘Never mind that; it’s none of your business. I have never asked who the father of your baby is and I think that you should respect my privacy too; we are getting divorced and nothing can change that. Do we part as friends?’

She looked at me, looked like she was going to say something and then just shook her head. She was appeared to be in shock at my revelation.

I stood up saying, ‘Olivia, I wish you and the baby well for the future. Tell your father that we have recordings of my conversation with his representative which we won’t hesitate to use if he threatens me, my family or my friends. Do you understand?’

‘But Daddy wouldn’t––’

‘Daddy would,’ I interrupted quickly. ‘I’m going now; my friends are waiting and we have a long drive home.’

‘But your home is here,’ she said, standing up.

‘Not any longer.’ I took the front door key out of my shoulder bag and placed it on the coffee table. ‘I won’t be needing this any more. Goodbye, Olivia.’

‘But––’

‘Goodbye.’

I turned away, walked out of the room and out of her life. Making my way down the drive, my legs were trembling and I found it very hard to hold things together. As Tom, I would never have dared to have spoken to her like that. For far too long I had been repressed and lacking in self esteem. Now, as Samantha, I was a much stronger individual, but I hoped not hard. I felt for Olivia and the mess that she had got herself into, but I couldn’t live her life for her and I needed to be Samantha and let go of my past.

The others watched me as I got back into the bus and strapped myself in. Abby, sitting next to me, held my hand. As we moved off, I looked back at the house. Olivia was standing in the doorway holding her bump and just staring. I gave her a small wave, but she didn’t wave back.