“So did he get the job?” I asked Tom when he got home that evening.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Organise the dormouse schedule, why else?”

“I got the impression you found him attractive.”

“I can window shop, can’t I?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Cathy.”

“Tom, you don’t think for one minute, that I would do the dirty on Simon, do you?”

“No, I would hope not, but sometimes these things have a way of happening despite the best of intentions.”

“So what’s his name?”

“No his name isn’t Watts at all, it’s Bradley Peet.”

“What you just employed Brad Peet.”

“Yes, not Brad Pitt.”

“Still if you say it quickly, it sounds the same.” I laughed out loud.

“Only because you Sassenachs canna talk properly. Ye’re all slovenly in yer speech, and dinna pronounce things properly.”

“You are a big bully, Thomas Agnew, and only picking on me because I’m a girl.” I pretended to cry–definitely crocodile tears.

“There there,” he said, “I ken fine well ye’re taking the piss, so you can stop the mockadile tears noo, straightway.”

“Damn you, you haggis stuffer, you always know when I’m winding you up.”

“Cathy, I was playing faithers afore ye were born.”

“I forget, you also knew all about transsexualism before I was born.”

“Aye, I suppose I did. Least, at knowing how it affected someone, I did.”

“So did you employ Brad Peet?”

“Aye, for six months.”

“Is that how long you think this next film will take to make?”

“No, but if he doesn’t fit in, I can get rid of him and find someone else. There’s plenty looking for jobs these days.”

“He went to Bristol, so he said.”

“It would seem so, he went on and did a masters there too.”

“What straight away?”

“So it would seem, which is another reason for the six months. He doesn’t have much experience.”

“I had more than him. So how old is he?”

“Twenty six.”

“Hmm, older than me.”

“He had to work so did a couple of years selling carpets.”

“He could sell me one any day.”

“Cathy, behave.”

“Yes, Daddy.” I pouted.

“What’s for tea?”

“I made a fisherman’s pie.”

“Well I hope you took his boots off first.”

“No, I saved them for you along with all his maggots.”

“That wouldna worry me, have I taken you fishing at all?”

“No, my father tried it, I didn’t like handling the maggots or the fish and wasn’t really interested. Of course he accused me of being girly, which secretly delighted me, but also got me a few slaps for my pains.”

“I can never see how hitting a child is justified,” said Tom shaking his head.

“Nor me, but most people do it.”

“Not like your father.”

“Certainly that day, he excelled himself.” We were both thinking of the day he really went to town on me and I tried to end it all as a consequence. Dr Thomas saved my life and my sanity and Tom came to see me in hospital. It was then he learned I was transgendered and told me it was okay. Little did I know just how much he knew about it, but then he didn’t know what I was going to do about it either; partly because I didn’t know myself. In lots of ways, I owed loads to Stella, who forced me to confront the issue, fulfilling the Jungian suggestion, that things we don’t resolve internally are projected externally and force us to deal with them.

All of this seemed such a long time ago. I suppose it was two years, I must fill in that form and send it off to the gender recognition people. I’d have to ask Simon where he’d put it.

The kitchen smelled of fish as I opened the oven door and checked the pie. It was browning nicely, and I wondered if Mima would eat some of it. She was possibly too full of ice cream, encouraged by Stella who made do with raspberry ripple in lieu of her Brussels sprouts. Yuck.

I laid the table with help from Mima, who’d just woken up from a nap with Simon. His knee was still sore, but not as bad as yesterday. I don’t know how much he needed the painkillers but he was still taking as many as I’d let him have.

Henry was far from pleased by his son’s absence through injury again. However, I think Simon was quite happy to be away from the wheeler dealing he normally had to do. Mima was certainly pleased to spend time with him. I suppose it took the heat off me and allowed me to do lots of things I’d have found difficult before, especially with regard to Mima: but, other women manage, so I’d have had to do so as well.

I dished up the meal and Mima turned her nose up at the smell of it. She did however, eat half of Simon’s dinner, so I was quite pleased with her consumption.

“Oh, Cathy, something I should have mentioned earlier, I invited that young man to dinner on Sunday, I hope that’s all right?”

“Why? What are you cooking?”

“If I cook, it’ll be curry…”

“Okay, I surrender, what do you want?”

“A leg of lamb, perhaps?”

“You must promise to keep that mutt of yours under control,” Kiki had previously run off with a leg of lamb before Tom could carve it.

“Oh she won’t do that again.”

“No she won’t, I’ll shoot her first.” I declared with mock seriousness.

He handed me a couple of twenty pound notes, can you do a nice sweet too?”

“I could do some of my apple and mint sorbet?”

“Aye, that’ll do.”

“What are you two plotting?” said Stella bringing the dirty plates out to the kitchen.

“Brad Peet’s coming to dinner on Sunday.”

“Who’s he?” she asked oblivious to what I thought would be a great joke.

“The replacement teacher for moi.”

“Oh, that’s different, count me in, won’t you?”

“Aye, I was rather hoping you’d stop Cathy swooning at him, all the time.”

“Oh wow, is he that delish?”

I nodded furiously.