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I was huddled on a park bench in the depths of self-pity, covered by an old almost waterproof groundsheet that someone had threw away after enjoying themselves at an afternoon picnic in the park. Despite the groundsheet I was totally drenched by the torrential rain that was that was expected to last all through the rest of the evening and night.

For the last six months I had struggled with losing my job, my wife and family, and anything of value that I possessed, hoping that something would turn up to drag me out of my pit of despair. I spent my time on the streets begging outside one of the main stores in the town during the daytime, getting disgusted looks of distain and disinterest from most of the people that passed by me. In the evening I found whatever shelter I could from the wet and the cold. I could see no prospects of a future for me and decided that my life was worth nothing, the world would be better off without me.

Ignoring the downpour since I couldn’t get any wetter than I already was, I trudged along the country roads to the nearby aqueduct where I intended to end my misery. I made my way along the towpath to the middle of the bridge and sat on the parapet for a while staring into the gloom of the rapidly descending dusk, plucking up the courage to throw myself off onto the rocky river below. There wasn’t even a hint of a glorious sunset or a bright full moon peeping through the clouds to lift my spirits and give me a, however small, reason to continue, since the atmosphere was as dismal and gloomy as my mood.

Suddenly I heard the sound of footsteps and sensed someone standing behind me, from the sound of the footsteps and the sweet flowery scent drifting to me it was obviously a woman.

“It’s an awful night isn’t it fy annwyl (my dear), do you mind if I join you?” A friendly-looking late-middle-aged woman softly spoke to me as she climbed onto the parapet and sat about 3 feet to my side.

“Please yourself, but don’t blame me for any nightmares that you will have when you see me fall.”

“Now why would you want to do that? think what it would do to me and the horrors that would face the emergency services that would have to scrape up the pieces of you from the ragged rocks down there. The river is not deep enough to give any cushion to your fall, so there is not even any chance of surviving the unbearable pain and then drowning in a more peaceful manner.”

“What’s it to you anyway, just leave me in peace. I could do without a Jiminy Cricket on my shoulder acting as my conscience.”

“Tell me about your problems. Look, we are both getting soaked here, why not come back with me to my home and we can talk about it, then if you want to come back here and go through with jumping, I won’t try to stop you. Over the years I have seen many people up here in the same situation as you, I have helped some desperate people come to their senses and go on to live a happy life, but there have been others that didn’t want to be helped, but at least they thought deeply about what they were doing.”

She swung her legs back over the parapet onto the towpath and started to walk away. “Are you coming, or are you going to stay here getting yourself soaked and cold before throwing yourself down onto the rocks making a bloody mess?”

I thought about what she had said about some people changing their minds and going on to live happy lives, then called out to her to wait a moment.

“I’d like to talk to you for a while but promise me that you’re not going to call the police or anybody and get me locked up, will you?”

“I’ve told you already that if you want to come back here later that I won’t stop you, let’s get inside into the warm and dry where you can tell me what has brought you to this low point in your life.”

We walked in silence back to her home which was on the ridge at the end of the aqueduct which turned out to be a big house with lots of outbuildings spread around a courtyard.

“What is this place, do you live here alone?’

“Over the years it has been many things, originally a manor house for a wealthy local landowner, then a home for unmarried mothers, a rehabilitation centre for WW2 wounded veterans, and an office complex. It is currently a women’s refuge, offering a sanctuary for poor girls and women abused by their menfolk. However, you are not here to talk about ‘Ty Llwyd’ (The Grey House), so tell me about yourself and why you are going to throw yourself off the bridge. I was looking out of an upstairs window and saw you sitting on the parapet. Even though it is a filthy night I felt I should at least try to get you to see reason, as unfortunately I have had to do for many others in my time here. Before we get started, you are soaked and are dripping all over the floor and rug. Go into the bathroom through that door, strip off and dry yourself thoroughly, meanwhile I will see what I can find for you to wear.”

Soon I had dried off and warmed up, and put on the clothes she had found for me. Some plain cotton underpants, skinny fit denim jeans and a cotton shirt, all of them obviously from the fit intended for women, but at least they were clean and dry.

“I hope those are ok for you, sorry but I do not have any men’s clothes here.”

“They'll do thank you, at least they are dry comfortable and warm and are not too feminine.”

“Right let’s start at the beginning. I’m Cerys Davies, I own Ty Llwyd and manage the refuge Tell me about yourself and what has got you to this level of despair.”

“To start with, thank you for trying to help me. My name is Arthur Marshall and until recently I was living a humdrum life in a large comfortable house just outside Wrexham as a general manager for a construction firm. I was happily married, or so I thought, and reasonably well off with substantial bank accounts and investments.

That was until my wife Josie told me that she had been having an affair and wanted to restart her life with her new man. That led to all the usual squabbles in a separation, who gets the house, how is the money split and who is to blame. It wasn’t helped by the fact that her father owned the company where I was employed and he listened to her lies, sided with her and I lost my job. Then I then found out that she had cleaned out my bank accounts and. cancelled my cards, leaving me with nothing.”

“That sounds totally unreasonable, why didn’t you contest it and get what was rightfully yours, or is there more to it than that?” I wasn’t sure whether the critical look on her face was aimed at Josie for her scheming and vindictiveness or at me for being so weak and just rolling over.

“She was spreading embarrassing lies about me, posting compromising photos of me on her Meta accounts saying that I enjoyed cross-dressing and wanted to live as a woman.”

“Is there any truth in that or was it totally fabricated, you mentioned that she was showing some photos of you?”

“We were invited to a ‘vicars and tarts’ party a few weeks before this all started. She convinced me for a laugh that I should go as a tart and she would go as a vicar. Anyway we went to the party with me in a micro-mini leather skirt, fishnet stockings, 4” heels a clinging top emphasising the false boobs she had found for me, a shoulder length wig and full makeup, I would’ve looked at home in the less-salubrious parts of town. When I walked into the room the conversations stopped, everyone was staring at me, I was the only man dressed as a woman, and when they all got over the surprise there was a burst of laugher and vindictive rude and sexist comments. It didn’t help when Josie told everyone it was my idea to dress as a tart, according to her I often did it in the privacy of our own house.”

“Is any of that true, do you regularly cross-dress?”

“No never, that was the first and only time. Looking back I am sure that it was Josie building a case to fleece me in any divorce proceedings. Inevitably I became a social pariah, none of my former friends wanted anything to do with me. Her father sacked me claiming that I was causing unrest amongst the people working for me. I ended up deciding to not even argue the rights and wrongs, I just wanted to be rid of her and her nasty scheming ways.”

“You said that she posted photos of you from the party and those she took while you were getting dressed to go, are they still there and do you mind if I have a look.”

“Go ahead, everyone else has seen them and had a good laugh about me. The last time I was able to check they were still there, she was determined.to keep me in my place.”

I gave Cerys the account details and she spent 10 minutes skimming through the postings, studying the photos and reading the comments.

“Actually considering that you were supposed to be dressed as a tart, you looked surprisingly feminine.Take away the outlandish clothes and the excessive makeup you could easily be mistaken for a woman Your legs are quite slim and shapely and you were really showing them off.”

“Is that supposed to cheer me up? Along with all my other problems, that is another nail in my coffin, if that’s not an unfortunate choice of words considering that suicide is still a probability.”

“That was a compliment not an insult by the way. Ok, so you have had a raw deal from Josie but none of that is the end of the world and a reason for suicide, what else is there?”

“Word soon got around town. Whenever I applied for a job they always approached my father-in-law as my former employer for a reference and they were always damning. He claimed that I was a perverted cross-dresser and to make up for my lack of masculinity that I really bullied the staff badly and disrupted the workforce. I applied for social-security benefits, but they told me that because I had been fired for gross misconduct I had effectively made myself unemployed and therefore could not make a claim. It seemed like every road I turned into was a dead-end. I ended up on the streets living rough, begging, searching the bins by the supermarkets for any discarded food and sleeping wherever I could find shelter. I decided that the world didn’t care about me and there was no point in fighting the system, so there was no reason to continue living.”

She went off to make coffee and get biscuits while she thought about what I had said.

“Arthur, I’ll give you an extremely good reason to continue living. Your wife, her father, your ex-colleagues, and your supposed friends have treated you awfully and you have just let them walk all over you. Why should you let them get away with that, you should at least spend some time to right the wrongs they have done to you. If you leave here and go back to the bridge and jump are you not just confirming to them all that the lies that your wife is telling are actually true and that you couldn’t live with being exposed?”

“That all sounds well and good but I cannot face going back to live on the streets, and have no way or means to get back at them all.”

“Why not stay here while we come up with a plan? You said you worked in construction, is that just office-based theory or can you work with your hands? This an old property and there is a lot that needs doing.”

“I’m fairly practical and can turn my hands to most building jobs, and for anything major I can organise and manage professionals to carry out the work,”

“Right that’s just about settled. You can stay here and earn your keep by helping me run this place. I say just about settled as there is a problem with you staying here. As I said earlier this is a women’s refuge and many of my residents have really suffered at the hands of men and would not be keen to have a man working here. Judging from those photos I think that with a bit of help you could easily pass as a woman, and if you are prepared to live as a woman while you are here the job is yours. It would also mean that Arthur has disappeared off the face of the earth, which will give your wife legal problems about getting a divorce and making a claim on your joint assets, until you can legally be declared dead, which I believe is seven years.”

I thought for a long time about the options. Her idea had a lot of positives, giving me time and opportunities to sort things out. However the idea of living as a woman frightened me in practical and emotional terms, I wasn’t sure whether I could agree to that. After talking for a while with Cerys I finally decided that my life as Arthur was at a dead end, literally, and that there was nothing to lose in taking the opportunity to start afresh.

“Cerys, if I agree to this, please tell me I will not be open to ridicule and that you would be the only one that knows about me.”

“It’s a deal. Bethan is a traditional Welsh name that is quite common around here, if that’s okay for you that is who you are to everyone now. I think it’s getting late, let’s get off to our beds and in the morning we’ll start getting you ready for your new life .

I was wakened in the morning by a rap on the bedroom door and Cerys quickly came in with a cup of coffee for me.

“Good morning Bethan, get that down you to wake you up, then go and have a shower with a very close shave. By that I mean shave everywhere visible, legs, arms, chest, stomach and armpits as well as your face, then put on a dressing gown and come downstairs. We need to get you looking more acceptable as a woman before you change your mind.”

It took a few seconds for me to get my brain in gear and for me to remember what I had committed to the previous night, but I decided I had not changed my mind and so I had better get on with it.

When I drifted downstairs Cerys was ready and waiting for me with a pile of clothes, beauty products and a tray of cosmetics.

“Hmm, not too bad already but you still need a lot of work. Your hair is just about long enough to get it into something resembling a female style which will do until we can sort out something better. Let’s start with that while it is still damp and workable.”

For the next quarter of an hour she cut and brushed, used curling tongs and then finally gave it a spray.

“That’s looking a lot better than that horrible wig that you wore for the party, and it quite suits you, now let's work on your face. After trimming and shaping my eyebrows, she started applying creams, lotions and colours, stood back to have a look and was not happy with the appearance. “The colours are all wrong for you, let me clean it all off and have another go.”

After two more attempts she finally seemed satisfied with how I looked, although I couldn’t really see much difference from the earlier versions.

“That’s a lot better, it is now more your style and colouring. Let’s get you dressed and see the final result, but I think this is going to work.”

An hour later, after trying on several different combinations of tops and skirts along with underwear that included a padded bra and a waist cincher, she was finally happy with the result. “Right Bethan go look in the mirror and see what you think, we’ll keep working on your looks but you are quite passable as a woman and that will do until you can develop a style of your own that you are comfortable with. I’ve picked out a few things from our stock. The women often arrive here having left home suddenly with very little, so we normally have a supply of spare or unwanted clothes to choose from.”

When I looked in the mirror the reflection coming back at me was amazing. I had images in my head of the grotesque tarty look that Josie had created for me, but looking back at me from the mirror was a much softer version, a quite attractive stylish young woman that would not look out of place in any company.

“I think that’ll do for the moment don’t you Bethan? You certainly look the part, but you still have a lot to learn. For the next few days while we work on your movement gestures, and particularly your voice, just stay here in the house. I will deal with the women and girls in the refuge to keep them away from you until I think you are ready to face them and the world. There are a few things to do around the house. If I was doing them I would be wearing leggings or trousers, but until you get used to who you are now going to be it will be best to stay in skirts. Probably a lot less practical but still manageable as long as you do not have to do anything too strenuous or dirty.

For the next few days I was kept busy with normal household duties, cleaning and tidying the place and doing minor DIY repairs, while I adjusted to moving and acting as a woman under Cerys’ never-ending guidance and instructions.

The most worrying time was when we had the fortnightly visit from a local hairdresser and beautician who came in to treat the residents to some free sessions to lift their spirits. Cerys had booked me in for some treatments, getting my hair styled properly and some laser treatment on my light facial hair,. I was worried that it would be obvious that I was male but Cerys assured me that I wouldn’t be the first man Elinor had given beauty treatments. If Elinor realised, she never made any comment about it.

I was slowly adjusting to life as a woman, but was still not confident about meeting with anyone other than Cerys, but was suddenly faced with a challenge one day. I was preparing our dinner in the kitchen when a young woman came through the unlocked door, and looked around.

“Is Cerys here, there is a problem in my room?” She asked, smiling at me.

“Sorry, she has gone to the shops, is there anything I can help you with? I’m Bethan, her niece, helping out here for a while.” I replied in what seemed to me to be a rather throaty but passable female voice, a bit like Lauren Bacall.

“Hi Bethan, I’m Amanda Rippon, but everyone just calls me Mandy, I only arrived a couple of days ago and have still not got used to everything here. All the power seems to have gone off in my room and I am a bit hopeless with things like that.” Deciding that I had passed the initial inspection I went with her to investigate the problem. After I had a look around I found the source of the outage.

“There you are Mandy, all fixed, you had spilt some water on the separate base of the kettle, when you switched it on at the wall socket it tripped the breaker , but it should be OK now that I have dried it out.”

“Thanks Bethan I didn’t know who to ask since I don’t really know anyone else yet. I was feeling a bit down and it was made even worse when the lights went off. Have you got time for a chat, I’m feeling a bit lonely and depressed?”

“Of course Mandy, from what Cerys has told me the first few days for the girls here are always difficult and they often need to spill out their problems and get things off their chest. Come on back to the house I’ve time for a cup of tea and a chat.”

For the next hour or so, Mandy poured out her heart to me. In many ways her problems were similar to mine, an uncaring partner having affairs, social put-downs in front of friends and family, but at least I had never had to suffer the physical abuse and scathing verbal remarks that she had suffered. Despite that, I could easily sympathise with her and shared some of my problems with her, not telling who I really was, but how I was badly treated ending up destitute and living rough before coming to stay with Auntie Cerys. At least Mandy had somewhere to escape to, Ty Llwyd, whereas there had been nowhere for me to turn to, there were no similar places for men.

When Cerys returned she found us cuddled together both weeping at the thought of what we had been through.

“Is everything OK here?” she asked, looking worried, before Mandy quickly replied getting her thoughts together faster than I did.

“Thanks Cerys. I feel a lot better now after chatting with your niece Bethan, she has really helped me come to terms with where I am in my life now. I’ll leave you two to talk about what happened.”

I told Cerys everything that had gone on from the simple bit of maintenance to Mandy needing to talk through her problems.

“Wow, you really jump in with both feet, don’t you? I thought that there was still a lot of work needed on you before introducing you to the residents but, from what Mandy said you are obviously ready. It all seems to have worked out with her. but for the moment try not to get too involved with the girls’ problems. Some of them are very fragile and need careful handling. So now you are my niece eh? Well it’s as good a story as any. Right Beth, help me get the shopping unloaded and put away, then we can sort out what happens next.

We. gradually got into a routine, Cerys looking after the problems the girls had with their lives, me helping with admin, general maintenance, and prepping the basic meals for all the residents.Soon everyone accepted me as Bethan, even when Mandy and Laura, another of the residents, were helping me in the kitchen. They just chatted away to me as if I was just one of the girls and I soon slipped into easily joining in the conversations with them.

I answered a knock at the door one day when Megan was dealing with a new resident to see two female police officers on the doorstep.

“Excuse me, we are looking for a missing person who was last seen a couple of miles away, can we come in for a chat.”

Despite wondering whether it was me that they were looking for, I was no longer concerned that I would be recognised as Arthur and was comfortable in my role as Bethan.

“Please come in, I’m Bethan Davies. My Aunt Cerys owns and runs Ty Llwyd and I’ve recently come here to help. What can I do for you?”

“We’re trying to trace a missing person, Arthur Marshall, who disappeared from home over six months ago, but was last seen a few weeks ago just a few miles from here. Apparently it seemed as if he was living rough and appeared to be quite distressed. His wife has been searching for him and we are trying to help find him. Have any strangers turned up here begging or looking for work?”

“Not that I am aware, this is a women’s refuge and we try to discourage men from turning up here, many of our residents would react badly to a man about the place. We’ll keep an eye out for him though, his wife must be upset.”

“To tell you the truth, the officer who took her statement thought that she was a cold bitch. She seemed more worried about getting things sorted out as they had separated, rather than being interested in his health and state of mind, but we have a job to do, and what we think of her is irrelevant. Here’s one of my cards, please give me a call if he turns up here.”

Not long after they had left Cerys came back and was surprised when I told her what had been said.

“It sounds like I was right, she just wants to get her hands on your share of your assets, and once you are found she will be able to get things sorted. If they find out you are alive she can follow up with divorce proceedings and from what you have said about her scheming she will end up with the house and the vast majority of your money. If you are declared to be dead she will get everything, so whichever way it turns out will be a win-win for her. How were you with the police officers?”

“No problem, I am now comfortable and confident as Bethan, I just talked to them woman to woman and they accepted me without any questions.They also told me that they appreciate the work we are doing here.”

“Since Josie seems determined to mess you about even further, it’s time that you need to start fighting back. Before anything else you need to stop her selling your house and spending your money. You need to get her bank accounts frozen until we can discover how she accessed your accounts to withdraw all your money, unless she had your authority to make withdrawals.”

“We always kept separate bank accounts, at the insistence of her father, to ensure that I couldn’t get my hands on her family’s money, along with other restrictions in a prenup I had to sign. Thinking about it, she must have somehow conned the banks to give her my money. You sound like you know what you are talking about and that it’s not the first time you have dealt with something like this.”

“Many many times Bethan. Unfortunately, after years of helping abused women who have been under total control of their partners, there are very few tricks that I haven’t come across before. I often use a solicitor who is an expert in family law and knows how to deal with the bureaucracy of the banking world in domestic disputes. She is a good friend to the refuge, her sister spent some time as a resident here and she does work for us at no cost in gratitude for how we helped her, and I can assure you that she will be very discreet about your background. Do you want me to call her and arrange a meeting to discuss things with you?”

A week later she introduced me to Gwen Bevan, and it surprised me to see she was an attractive, young, stylish and friendly lawyer, I had been expecting an hard-nosed middle-aged harridan in tweeds and pearls or a sharp business suit. When I had given her all the details of the background to what I wanted her to do, including how I had been lied about, forced out onto the streets, and driven to the point of suicide by the vindictive scheming of Josie, she sat back and smiled.

“I don’t think we will have too many problems Bethan, and that is how I will list you on my my client file. I’ve been through similar cases many times, although I must admit that is the first time that LGBT issues have been involved. It will be best if we keep your new identity a secret, but for legal reasons we may need you to present as Arthur again sometime in the future. It will be best if you remain off-grid for a while, missing presumed dead, but I need a valid reason to be handling this case, is there anyone else who could have a claim on your estate?”

“There is my sister Caroline. She is in Vancouver, Canada, but I haven’t been in touch with her since all this started. She will probably be able and willing to help since she has never liked Josie.”

“Get in touch with her, but she must understand that she cannot acknowledge that Arthur is still alive. I need a letter or email from her authorising me to act on your behalf to protect your assets until you are found or established to be dead. That will allow me to freeze your assets and recoup any fraudulently gained money from your bank accounts. Be careful what you tell her, she mustn’t know that you are now living here as Bethan Davies. Even though you are very convincing as a woman, if anyone links Bethan to Arthur it won’t take a lot of digging to expose you, and as I said before you must remain as missing presumed dead.”

I had a long difficult conversation with Caroline who was very upset that I hadn’t contacted her and confided in her earlier to counter all the nasty rumours she had heard from friends in Wales she had kept in contact with. However she agreed to do as Gwen had advised, even though I couldn’t tell her where I was now or the fact that I was living as Bethan, and I promised to keep her in the picture from then on. To keep in touch with her, I set up a WhatsApp account in another name, someone I had been at university with who had since died, so that we could exchange encrypted messages that could not be traced back to me.

Once Gwen had the go-ahead from Caroline with authority to act on her and my behalf, it did not take too long for Gwen to report back to me.

“The good news is that all your assets, including your share of the value of your house and all the money that was illegally taken from your bank and investment accounts are now by the courts. Josie and her new partner are being investigated by the banks and by the police, it is likely they will charged with fraud and theft, amongst other things.

The bad news is that Josie is absolutely livid and has been inundating my office with phone calls demanding that I tell her who I am acting for. She threatened to come to my office to sort me out face-to-face and I have needed to put a restraining order on her, the only contact with me now has to be through her solicitor. However she doesn’t sound the sort to give up easily. Although there is no need for you to hide away, it might be best if you keep a low profile and stay here at Ty Llwyd. Mix with and make friends with the residents so that if anyone comes here asking questions, everyone knows you only as Bethan.”

That became a lot easier for me a few days later when Mandy called me over to see her as she needed help to fix a loose shelf in her room.

“Sorry to bother you again Bethan but I am absolutely hopeless with anything practical like that. Is there any chance that you could teach me about the basics of house maintenance and DIY? When I finally leave here I will be off men for a while, so could you help me to learn how to look after things myself?” She said with pleading eyes.

“That sounds sensible, ask around the other women and girls to see if anyone else is interested and if there are a few of you I will arrange some teaching and demonstration sessions. I will be glad to help you all, it doesn’t need to be anything too challenging or too heavy, just the basic things like fixing the shelf, changing a plug, resetting a fuse or circuit-breaker, re-grouting the bathroom tiles, fixing a leaky tap, and things like that. Does that sound like what you want?”

By the end of the week, Mandy had gathered a few more of the women, and I started the classes for them. As well as giving them some practical skills, it also gave them the opportunity to chat as a group, initially to share their past problems and moan about their men, but soon it was about what they had learned in the classes, about life in general,nand what they were planning to do after they had left the refuge. Before long there was an obvious shift in their spirits and attitudes, I found that I was now acting as much as a life-coach and therapist instead of just teaching them practical skills.

Listening to what they had to suffer, it made me realise that, apart from the physical abuse, that I had suffered much of the same controlling and coercive behaviour. There was always an excuse from Josie for me to miss nights out with my friends from university and work, and they all seemed to drift away. Josie’s friends suddenly became my only friends and my social circle outside of work. Although we had separate bank accounts, it always seemed that I paid the bills from my account, while Josie kept a strict control over any access by me to details of her finances. I remembered all the snide remarks and sarcastic put-downs which had gradually drained my confidence so that I was already in a low mental state by the time she humiliated me by falsely claiming that I had always enjoyed cross-dressing. There are often articles in the papers and magazines, and interviews on daytime TV shows, where women tell their stories and experiences, but there does not seem to be the same opportunities for men in similar circumstances.

I came to realise that instead of Arthur, the withdrawn man lacking in confidence and drive that I had previously become, I was much more comfortable, happier, and much more outgoing a woman, as Bethan. If I could finally clear things up and cut all ties with Josie, that is how I wanted to live my life.

Gradually many of the women in the refuge had managed to get their lives back into a comfortable space and left Ty Llwyd to re-enter the real world again. I was sorry to see them go, especially Mandy who had set me on my new life path, but was happy for them that they had come to terms with what had happened to them. Unfortunately however they were soon replaced as there was a never-ending supply of abused woman and girls who needed the help of Cerys, Gwen, and me.

The next time Gwen came to see me she had excellent news. The police and the banks had finalised their investigations and Josie and her father were due in court for trial and sentencing for fraud and theft. It turned out that her father had forced one of his junior managers to go to the bank pretending to be me to close my account and transfer the money to Josie. I took great pleasure in going to the trial, as Bethan, to see them squirm and lie. I was gratified to see the reaction of some of her friends at what was revealed, including the admission of the false claims about me. As I was leaving the court I heard a couple of her friends, Susie and Jennie, chatting about what they had heard.

“What a selfish scheming bitch that Josie has been, and we all stupidly believed those lies she told about poor Arthur, and laughed at all the jokes she told about him. I wonder what has happened to him.” Susie questioned.

“When we first met I really liked him, but I hated to see how he changed later into a doormat for her, wherever he is I wish him well.” sympathised Jennie, who had always been the one of Josie’s friends that I best related to. I was in two minds as to whether to approach them and thank them for what they had said, but decided that was part of my former life and I now needed to look forward rather than back, what had been done and said could never be undone.

Some time later the court reconvened for sentencing, where Josie and her father received hefty sentences All my money was returned to me, along with half the value of the family home, and all the legal expenses of Gwen Bevan were charged against Josie’s assets.

Although I was now in a financial position to restart my life away from Ty Llwyd, I decided that I owed everything to Cerys for saving my life and giving me a new direction and that I would stay to help her run the refuge, investing some of my money in Ty Llwyd to become joint owner.

Over the years I gradually transitioned to fully become the woman I now was and took over the management of the refuge so Cerys could begin to take a back seat. She eventually retired to live with her sister near Conwy, leaving me as the sole trustee of Ty Llwyd and taking over responsibility for watching out for people intending to jump from the aqueduct.

Unfortunately There were further suicides which either I hadn’t seen soon enough or whose minds I was unable to change, until one day when I managed to get there in time to coax a young woman off the parapet and to come back with me to Ty Llwyd. It turned out that it was not a woman after all, but a young man who had been outed as a cross-dresser, losing his family, job and money in a very similar way to my story. I saw my life reflected in his and determined to give him the opportunity for a new beginning just as Cerys had done with me. Sarah, or Sally as she was now known to everyone, quickly adapted to life as a woman and easily slipped into the role I previously had as assistant to Cerys.

I often thought back to that time sitting on the parapet, and how my life had turned around from being in the depths of despair to helping others come to terms with their problems. At times we all need a trusting friend who is prepared to help with problems, Cerys had been there for me, I played my part by helping to change Sally’s life, and she in turn was helping others, the circle of life was now complete.

The end.