There are five completed books of this story, with a total of 114 chapters. I figure that if I post them every few days, it will take the rest of this year to complete. Hoping that you all stay with it.
Marianne

Chapter 6

Willow spent Wednesday morning playing her keyboard and trying not to think about what lay before her. The first big step in moving on from William, through the Billie-Jean period, and into being Willow. She decided that she would be Willow Rose from now on. She skipped lunch, as ordered, and then walked over to the church, to just stand there and look at the organ, thinking about being up there, with it, on Sunday, after the operation.

When they arrived at the clinic, the admission was quick, and Willow was shown a bed where she could put her small overnight bag. The nurses allowed her to get hugged by her mother and she was left on her own. She was helped to strip and was given a hospital gown to wear. She was given an injection. When she was told to get onto the trolley, she really didn’t care what was happening.

In the operating theatre, the surgeon said hello to her, and they put an oxygen mask on her face and rigged up a barrier so she couldn’t see what was happening. She felt a small prick somewhere near her groin, then decided that it was time to have a nap.

She woke in the bed of the room where she had put her bag. She looked at the ceiling for a while and then moved. A buzzer sounded and a nurse came in.

“You’re awake, sweetie. That’s good. The doctor will be doing her round soon. Is there anything you want?”

“A drink, please.”

One was given to her in a safety bottle that she could suck at. She was trying to figure out what was different in her when the doctor came in.

“Good evening, Willow. I can tell you that everything went as planned. The nurse will give you something to help you sleep, although I’ve been told that you dozed off before the operation. If you need to go to the toilet, ring for the nurse, as you might be a bit rubbery in the leg department. Sweet dreams and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After a little while, the nurse brought in a tray with some food on it, cranking the bed into a position where she could eat. There was a water glass with a small container with two pills. She took the pills and then asked if she could go to the toilet. The nurse helped her stand and go to the toilet. When she had washed her hands, the nurse took the gown and gave her the nightie she had brought in the bag.

“That’s better, sweetie. I’ll take that nasty old gown away. Let’s get you into bed and comfortable. Those pills don’t take long to work.”

Willow slept until the early hours, waking with a bladder problem. She sat up in bed and swivelled with her legs ready to take her weight. That’s when she pressed the button. A few minutes later, another nurse came in.

“Toilet time, missy. Here, let me take your weight for a bit.”

When she had finished, she was able to stand and move on her own.

“Thank you, nurse. I think that I’m good now.”

“Let’s put your gown on. We’re starting the morning rituals. I’ll be back to take your vitals. Why don’t you take a few steps outside the room, a few up, a few back, until you feel normal. You have been in bed for a long time, but we want you to start acting normally. You’ll probably be screaming to leave before lunch, but we need you in place for another day.”

When the nurse had gone, Willow shuffled around the room, then peeked out of the door. Keeping close to the wall, she did as suggested and walked up and back until she wasn’t stooped. Back in the room, she felt around her groin, finding the cover that had been put there. She realised that she had been going to the toilet and wiping in the same fashion that she had been doing when wearing the gaff.

She sat in the chair next to the bed, turning on her phone and listening to her MP3 files. The nurse came in and took the vitals, noting them on a clipboard. A few minutes later, breakfast arrived. She didn’t care what they had served, she just devoured it all. Feeling a lot better, she went back to her phone and listened to the downloads of organ music that she imagined playing, seeing the keyboards in her mind.

The morning went slowly, until her father came in.

“How are you feeling, Willow?”

“Ready to find a motorbike and leap over the outer fence.”

“That’s one of the problems of being in hospital, my darling. The next thing is that you’ll realise that they serve rubbish food.”

“Breakfast was OK. I ate it all but never really looked at what it was. Never mind, only another three meals to go. I wonder how Mum is doing at that job trial.”

“She said that she would ring you this afternoon. I’ll call her and let her know that you’re feeling normal. She is excited at the idea of working again. She gave up work when you came along, but I know that she missed the friendship of the workplace. Just imagine if you had to stop playing music for over ten years.”

“That, dear Daddy, is something I could never imagine. Without music, I would just shrivel away. Mummy cried at the church on Monday. She said that the organ music reminded her of her wedding day.”

“Don’t be surprised if you see tears in my eyes on Sunday. Our wedding day was magical for both of us. We could hardly wait to be together every day, and every night. We still feel the same about each other. You’ll know what I’m talking about when you meet your soulmate.”

He stayed with her another five minutes and then had to head back to his office. Willow sat, quietly, for some time afterwards. In the last week, her parents had evolved into human beings, almost friends. She had spoken with her father more than the ten years before. She had been taught girly things by her mother. Even sitting still while her face was being made up was like close communication. She had shared things with her mother that would have been impossible to even mention in the past.

Her reverie was interrupted by the doctor walking in.

“Good morning, Willow. Let me look at the clipboard and then we can talk. Your vitals are all good. How do you feel? How is it to urinate?”

“I feel good, doctor. I had a little walk this morning and going to the toilet is the same as it was when I wore a gaff. I’m getting a bit bored, just sitting here.”

“That’s to be expected, a busy girl like you should be champing at the bit. Just another twenty-four hours and we let you go. We have to make sure that there are no complications, no sudden fever or sharp pains where they operated. Just think of it as writing a pop song; it never works perfectly the first time. You always have to let it evolve.”

“I suppose you’re right. I can imagine what I’ll be playing on Sunday. That will pass the time.”

“What’s happening Sunday? I hope it’s not a gig with that band, you’re not up for standing and grooving for an hour or more.”

“It’s a lot more dignified than that. I’m playing the church organ at St. Marys in Stoneleigh. Somehow, I got roped in again. The Reverend Russell is over the moon to hear it. They haven’t had an organist for a few years.”

“You do get around. I might come along to hear you. That article in the paper made you sound like some child prodigy.”

“As long as it’s good publicity for the school. I haven’t even had my first day there and I’ve met more of the other students than I knew in Bristol. Mind you, there are a few from there that I don’t miss.”

“Yes, the guys in the operating theatre commented on your scars. It must have been horrible.”

“It’s in the past. I have another life to live, thanks to you. Have you any idea when I can get the big operation done?”

“If you react as expected to the hormones, I expect that by the time you’re sixteen, you’ll have natural breasts and can pass all the tests to let you transition. It’s a big move, Willow, and you need to be totally happy with your life when it gets to that time. Anyway, must run, more patients to see. I’ll come in tomorrow to sign you off.”

………………………………………..

As Willow listened to her music, an office in Coventry was the scene of two men with the Observer on the table. Artie Hamilton and Zac Martin were promoters of music festivals. Artie was trying to win an argument,

“I tell you, Zac. These kids could be the next big thing!”

“But they’re just kids, Artie! Those boys aren’t even sixteen yet, and the girl looks younger. We’re not in the game of throwing kids to the wolves. They may have been as good as this article says, but they may be better in a few years. They have school to finish. Let’s let them know that we want to sign them, but there’s no way they will be allowed to play in the festival for a year or two. The paper says that the performance was a summer project. They may never play Purple again.”

“We’re in the box seat to make a fortune! We still have to make contact and let them know that we’re able to put them into the public arena. We can only hope that they want to be stars. I’ll agree with you, this time, but we need to talk to the school.”

…………………………………………..

At the Seven Stars industrial park, Wendy Rose was happily working on a computer, creating a page of a supermarket brochure. The design manager had given her the proofs that morning and told her that she could go home when she finished it. He knew that others would take up to ten hours to get something suitable.

…………………………………………

It was later in the afternoon, and Willow had left much of her lunch, when her phone rang.

“Willow Rose speaking.”

“Willow, I’ve got the job! I had to produce a page for one of those supermarket things that they add to the newspapers. I did it in a time that the boss said was amazing! I start on Monday.”

“Great news, Mum. Dad popped in today and I’m moving about. I had a walk to the nurses station and back, a few times. The doctor told me that I’ll be signed off after she sees me, tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there around ten to bring you home. At the moment, I’m heading for my bank to have a debit card in your name added to my account. It will let you get extra things for school without needing me around. I don’t know how we’ll get you into the city to buy the rest of the things you need, but, knowing you, my angel, something will save the day. If Miss Russell comes to the church on Sunday, I might ask her if she knows someone who can take you.”

“Don’t you start calling me an angel, Mum, or I might sprout wings and buzz around.”

They spoke some more and, when Willow closed her eyes, she imagined flying around the house with a duster in her hand. The nurse came in to take her vitals.

“It’s good to see you smiling, Willow. Something you thought of?”

“I was just on the phone to Mum. She implied that I was an angel, and I just had the picture of me flying around the house with a feather duster, doing all the high places.”

“Dusting and vacuuming are the bane of us girls. It’s like brushing your teeth every day, only not so nice when it comes to taste. Put your arm out so I can put this blood pressure sleeve on it.”

By the time that Willow went to sleep that night, she had been forced to stop and relax, as there was nothing that she could do to change things. It made her realise what she was now heading for as a girl at school, and what was going to be expected of her in later life. She may be talented, but was a boy no longer, not that she ever was one. The future was one where she would need to be twice as good as the men around her to even get recognition. She had her mother’s genes when hard work was needed, so that was a help. The fact that it was her mother’s genes made her think that she should have been born female in the first place, and the years of being William was just training in being stoic.

Her dreams, that night, were a jumble of projections into some strange future. At one time, she was in front of an orchestra in a long dress and playing the violin, then she was singing in front of a rock band. For a while, she was playing a keyboard, sometimes a piano concerto, then some Purple or Mac, or in a big church, playing one of the hymns which blended into the toccata and fugue that everybody could hum the opening bars. Before she woke up, she was playing her clarinet on the edge of a roaring waterfall. She woke with the sound of the breakfast trolley coming around and the need to pee.

After breakfast and the taking of the vitals, she was allowed to dress, leaving he gaff in the bag. She was happy that she had worn a skirt, as jeans would have been too tight in her groin for the moment. Her mother came in just after ten, and the doctor wasn’t far behind her. With a list of do’s and don’ts to follow for the following week, she breathed in the open air as they left the clinic and walked towards the car.

“You look like you’ve just finished five years in jail, honey. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“It was all right, really, Mum. It’s just that it gave me a lot of spare time to think about life. What they did to me has given me my direction. Up to now, I’ve been wearing these clothes as a disguise, but now, they’re expected of me.”

“You do make a cute girl, honey. That really helps. Nobody at the school have ever thought that you were anything else. I saw the doctor before I came in to you. She gave me the name of a specialist to take you to in a year or so, as well as a script for your pills. They did give you an injection of hormones to start your own body working. When we get home, I want you to relax for the rest of the day and tomorrow. Sunday will be early enough for you to walk to the church.”

“I’ve thought of a couple of Bach pieces that I can use for the before and after music. I suppose that I’ll be expected to play every Sunday. That won’t be too bad, if I can go in on a Saturday and get used to all the things that the organ can do. It’s a bit liking having a supercomputer and just using it as an adding machine at the moment. I had never realised how much wonderful music you can make with something that’s been gathering dust for years.”

“The Reverend has been busy this week. We had a letter drop yesterday, inviting all and sundry to the ‘Organ Celebration’ service. There’s also a package for you from the school. I expect that it’s your information about lessons. You will have to study normal things and the music is added if you want to go to university.”

“Could I? Go to university? I know that both you and Dad went to Cambridge. Has anyone else in the family gone?”

“Your Aunt Millicent went to Cambridge before your Dad started. She’s working in America as a lawyer. One of your father’s uncles has been living there for a while. I believe that there is an extended family there, but we’ve never had the time to follow it up.”

“I remember one time we went to see my grandparents in Oxford. Great-Grandfather was funny, kept telling me to calm down or else he would hobble me like a steer.”

“Your father’s family are all a bit weird.”

When they arrived at home, Willow was putting her nightie in the wash basket. Her mother smiled.

“Go and put the other things in your room, Willow. Tell me what you think when you come back down.”

Willow went to her room and opened the door. Her mother heard the squeal and grinned. Willow stood in the doorway and looked at her room. From the girl musician posters to the lilac sheets and pillows, to the new vanity and the plush tiger sitting on her bed, just begging for her to cuddle it. She dropped the bag on her bed and ran downstairs to hug her mother.

“Thank you Mummy. It’s fantastic!”

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. We can change it or add to it as you want, but it will allow you to invite friends home.”

They sat at the kitchen table and opened the package from the school. It contained her curriculum for the school year. She was going to be studying the usual subjects that she had already taken exams for at Clifton. There were a couple of options with Social Science, Technology, History and Politics. She was in the KS3 stream, with three hours study of music every two weeks.

There was a note from Miss Russell to tell her that they would like her to go to the school in the week before the first day, to catch up on the first-year subjects so that she wouldn’t be behind. The first year had performed ‘Joseph and the Amazing Dreamcoat’, been introduced to staff notation, studied rhythm with performing an eight-beat composition, studied Indian and Chinese music, instruments of an orchestra and played with technology.

Much of it was part of her previous studies or things she had played around with in private. The second year was going to be interesting, with lessons on pop music, the blues, music for a computer game, drumming and drum programming, remixing and Gamelan. It was all designed to expand the children’s minds.

There was a long list of after-school activities, with choirs, orchestras, guitar, drumming, folk, gospel, and jazz groups. There was also a list of standard clothing for both girls and boys, much of what was required wasn’t yet in her wardrobe.

“What are we going to do about these clothes, Mum, if you’re at work?”

“The vicar said that he was inviting his sister on Sunday. We can ask her if there are any volunteers to take you to the shop that supplies it all. The address is on the bottom of the list. Here, this is the card that I organised for you. The bank was able to press it while I waited. It is a debit card linked to the family account. Don’t lose it, use it wisely, and bring me all the receipts. I’ll take you to school and then go into work. I finish at five, so you may have to wait for me. Miss Russell may want to use that time with those first-year subjects. I’m sure they have all the instruments in the school, so you won’t have to take your own.”

After dinner, Willow went up to her room to play the keyboard, have a shower, and dive into bed to cuddle her tiger.

On Saturday, she was told to relax and rest so that she was ready for Sunday. Next morning, they were all up early, had breakfast and then made ready to go out. Willow wore the new skirt and a powder-blue top. Her mother did a quick make-up job on her and checked that she had everything in her handbag that she may need. They walked to the church, with the bells commencing as they strolled on Church Lane. As they were early, there weren’t many there, mainly the staunch supporters on the church. They were warmly welcomed, and Willow left them to set up the organ, turning on the fans.

She looked out to the body of the church, now bedecked with flowers, and double-checked that the hymns were the same that she had played, and in the same order. She sat and took some deep breaths to steady her, then began to play the Bach piece that she was beginning to love with this organ.

She glanced in the mirror as the church started filling. She saw Miss Russell come in with Mister Bamborough. Her parents sat with Edie and, by nine, there was a group standing below her. The congregation rose and she could see the vicar, resplendent in his full regalia, walk away from her, with a similarly dressed church warden on each side. She tapered the music off as they arrived at the altar. After that, the service followed what had happened on Tuesday, but with the prayers and the sermon filling the periods between the hymns.

As the service drew to an end, the vicar came down from the pulpit and knelt at the altar after asking for the congregation to take some time in personal prayer. When he stood and faced the congregation, he smiled.

“Ladies and gentlemen, parishioners and guests. Today is the first service in a good five years when we have heard the organ. I won’t ask for applause, but I thank our organist from the bottom of my heart. I’ll greet you all, outside, but for now, play us out, Willow.”

Willow started playing the final music as the bells pealed and the vicar left the church, with a lot of people looking up at the organ before they went outside. She listened to the bells and timed her final chords for when she expected them to finish the peal. It was pure luck when the notes faded in unison. When she got back onto ground level, with the fans off and the papers tidy, she was greeted by her parents, who both hugged her. As predicted, her father had moist eyes. They went outside, where there were a lot of people milling around and waiting to thank her for the experience. As things quietened down, her father asked the vicar if he could have a closer look at the memorials inside.

“This church is your church. Feel free to explore. Come back if you want to see more. Your family is truly welcome here.”

Ashley went back in and started to look at all the memorials with a nagging thought. He was looking at the one for Gilbert Henry Chandos Leigh when a man stood by him.

“Silly bugger fell off a cliff. That’s what happens when you don’t follow the family traditions and go into politics or the military. I’m Rupert Leigh, and these folks are my ancestors, once removed.”

“Ashley Rose. It was my daughter playing the organ today.”

“Ah, you must be very proud of her. You were looking very thoughtful just before. Is there something that worries you?”

“Not a worry, but my family, on my mother’s side, had an ancestor who was married to a Leigh. I remember being at my grandfather’s knee and him showing me a photo of a painting. He told me that his father, or it could have been his grandfather, used to visit his sister at a grand house. Oddly, he had a full set of cowboy clothes for an adult, as well as a set that fitted me. We would sometimes dress up and go in local parades.”

“Do you know the sister’s name?”

“She was Marie, and her brother was Alec Campbell.”

“Do you remember the picture of her husband. Was he in military uniform, with a sword and a big star on his chest?

He got his phone out and swiped it a few times before showing the picture to Ashley.

“Like this?”

Marianne Gregory © 2025