Gruesome Tuesday by Tanya Allan   Fifteen-year old Sophie wants to go to a Justin Timberlake concert, but her father, Rob, doesn’t want to let her go. Having lost his wife to cancer, he may be over-protective. They have an argument, in which she accuses him of not understanding what it is like to be young. He remembers his youth well, and telling her that she has it easy compared to him. A freaky electric shock transports her into her father’s fifteen-year old body in a boys’ boarding school in the 1970s, and he ends up as her in the present. Things then get very interesting indeed!

 
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Originally written in 2004, revised in 2009.
 
The Legal Stuff: Gruesome Tuesday  ©2004, 2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 6. Sophie's Story
 
 
Half term loomed and, as it was near the end of October, I had survived nearly two months of being Rob. I had bruises in places I didn’t know existed - bloody rugby. Why someone hadn’t shot that bastard William Webb-Ellis, I will never know. Now soccer I could have coped with, but rugby, I was only grateful for Rob’s slim build that kept him out on the wing or at full back.

The first day I had to play was a nightmare. Now, I had watched it enough with my Dad to understand the basics, so I knew that you weren’t allowed to chuck, sorry, pass the ball forwards, and if you kicked it straight into touch from anywhere outside your own twenty-two line, then the line-out was level with where you kicked it from. But the rest was pretty vague.

Anyway, there I was with the others, feeling very self-conscious, and yet indistinguishable from my contemporaries. Mr Green asked me how my head was, and I was sorely tempted to say it was awful, but didn’t.

We had a warm up session, and then a practice.

I was shown how to tackle, and it was explained that if you tackled round the legs, using the shoulder, then there was less likelihood of getting hurt, so I tried it and found it worked, usually. Rob had a reputation of being a good tackler, so that only meant I had to play more.

“All right Mills, after that wonderful tackle last week, I want you in the A team, so go full back, will you.”

I stood behind everyone else, and every time someone came through the line, I simply tackled them. If the ball was kicked at me, I either caught it, or had a good attempt to. Dad used to kick the ball for Steven, so I used to join in, but I have to say, I found it easier without tits.

I was still terrified. God knows how I would have coped in the scrum. As it was, I learned to run very, very fast. As soon as I had that ball, I would just run, and hope to hell that no one would catch me. As a result, I scored some things called tries, and then I was selected for the colts, which meant that demented fools from other schools got to inflict GBH on me as well.

If I had been all pathetic and girly, (which, I discovered was the worst name you could call anyone in rugby.) I would have been put down to a wally’s game. But I knew that Dad loved his rugby, so I owed it to him to be as good at it as I could.

The other problem with rugby was the showers afterwards. It was a cruel trick that fate had played on me, as I was surrounded by naked boys and was not in a position to appreciate them. I did see an amazing variety of penises. I had not seen any, apart from Dad’s, and so it was an education to see big ones, little ones, thin ones, thick ones and some very odd shaped ones. I found it very hard not to stare or get the giggles, as they all wiggled about as the boys walked. And if I was anywhere near Sean in the showers, he would always have his back to everyone, as his was usually standing to attention. I was now seriously worried about him.

The play was coming along, and we had been to the wardrobe department for our costumes. I was given a set of five different outfits for each of the scenes. One was a summer dress, in yellow and gold. There was a skirt and blouse, a tennis skirt and top, and slinky baby-doll nightie, for the farcical night time scene, and a long black evening dress for the final dinner party scene where everything happened.

I was fitted with a long blonde wig, and I was suddenly struck as to how much I resembled myself, or Rob’s daughter, or her me. This whole thing was getting me really confused.

I was a girl, trapped in my father’s body at age fifteen, pretending to be a girl, aged twenty, in a play. If I didn’t need psychotherapy after all this, I would be doing very well.

If I found it hard, how much more so would Dad?

We didn’t have to wear them for a while, so Mrs Harris, who looked after the wardrobe, promised to alter the clothes after the fitting. I was fortunate in that most of my costumes fitted, and so little work was needed.

It was really odd, as I dressed as a girl, it was as if I, as Sophie, was allowed to take over again, and was able to walk and move with my natural mannerisms again. Even the long hair was nice and it felt right. I hoped I wasn’t turning my father into a transvestite.

Talking of which, I was now almost convinced that Sean was gay. Putting aside his permanent erections in the showers, he would give me little smiles, and occasionally he would ‘accidentally’ touch me.

It came to a head, (poor choice of expression, - sorry) one evening when we were going through our lines in our study. Mike was there, but had to go and run some errand or other for one of the prefects.

The pair of us continued, and at one point, the hero has to declare his love for Sophie.
 
 

	Him		Sophie, I say, have you got a mo?
	Me		What is it Michael?
	Him		I just want to say that you are looking awfully stunning today.
	Me		That’s nice of you, what’s brought this on so suddenly?
	Him		It isn’t sudden. You must know that I feel something towards you?
	Me		A little, but then I thought you just had asthma.
	Him		No, you make my heart sing.
	Me		Oh dear, can anything be done to help that?
	Him		No, I mean, I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you.
	Me		Oh dear, does that mean you will want to kiss me?
	Him		May I?
	Me		I suppose so, if you must.

 
 
At this point Sean’s voice wavered, and he almost broke down.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Shit. I can’t do this.”

“It’s only a play Sean. Don’t get so worried about it,” I said.

“You don’t understand. I can’t pretend any longer.”

“What, about being gay and feeling what you do about me?” I said.

He stared at me, with his mouth opening and closing without sound. He looked quite shocked that I had guessed.

“Sean, a deaf and dumb paraplegic could have guessed how you felt. I just haven’t encouraged you because I’m not gay, so I don’t want you to get any confusing signals.”

“You know, and yet you’re still my friend?” he asked, somewhat astounded.

“Sean, being gay is not like some infectious mental illness, it is just part of the human condition. It’s how you deal with it that determines whether you screw any chance of a productive life. Prejudice is rife, and will be so right up into the next century, so what you have to do is make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“Whether you give in to it, and let it rule your life, or whether you control it, and live a life with it on the sidelines. Some of the greatest generals, politicians and other historical figures were gay, but that is not why they are remembered. Their sexuality was secondary for them, and they were discreet and honest. Their skills and talents were what they are remembered for, so choose, Sean, choose.”

“But, I think about it all the time.”

“Then you’re letting it take over. Whether you think about that or girls, or stealing, or drugs or any other weakness, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is to have control over what distracts you, and not the other way around. We all live with secrets, some big some small. Mine is really odd, but this isn’t about me. What you have to do is imagine what would happen if you ‘came out’ and publicly declared your sexuality.”

“I’d be screwed.”

“Why?”

“My friends would desert me, the school would kick me out, my parents would disown me and I would be finished.”

“Oh, the understanding 1970s,” I said.

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, what alternative do you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. If you’ve been thinking about little else, you know your options better than me.”

“I have to just live a lie.”

“No, you live a life, and be careful and discreet with whom you share your secrets. Sean, you’re an intelligent bloke. You have a hell of a career ahead of you as a soldier, and I think that you’ll make a really good one. Why let something like this spoil your chances?”

“The army doesn’t accept gays.”

“Who’s gay?”

“I am.”

“Says who?”

“Me,” he said, frowning.

“All kids go through periods of uncertainty about their sexuality. Control it and take charge. Don’t let it rule your life. Identify what is important for you, and hold on to those things. As and when your urges get strong, then find the right person and live for yourself.”

He sat there, staring at the floor.

“Sean?”

He looked at me, tears in his eyes.

“I think I love you,” he said.

“I know. And I love you, as a friend, and not in the sexual sense. If it is any consolation, if I was a girl I’d go for you.”

He smiled. “No girls here.”

“That’s the problem. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“A boy friend?”

“No.”

“Then forget being gay, just be you. You never know, a girl might come along and sweep you off your feet.”

He smiled. “Like you, you mean.”

“Sean.”

“Sorry.”

Why was everything so complicated? I despaired for poor Sean, for me and Dad. This was such a mess.

“Rob?”

“What?”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Tell anyone what?”

He laughed, uneasily. “Thanks.”

“What are friends for?” I asked.

“I don’t deserve you. I’d understand it better if you hated me.”

“For goodness sakes, stop being so melodramatic. Come on, let’s get our lines done. Pretend I’m a girl and that you like girls, it’ll make it easier for you.”

So we continued and I felt like Sophie again, and he warmed to the game. I wasn’t looking forward to the brief kiss that he was due to give me.
 

*          *          *
 
We survived until half term, but it was weird seeing my grandparents turn up and be parents. Dad had often gone on about how strict his Dad had been.

I thought I knew Grandpa and that he was a teddy bear. Oh no, he wasn’t, he was very strict, and there were loads of ground rules in the home. Granny, or Mum, as I now called her, had to obey the rules too, and she was the lenient one.

None the less, they loved both me and Sally, and it was a very happy house. It was the end of October and it was very wet and windy. So we stayed in and watched TV and stuff.

The house was the same one in which they still lived in 2003, so I knew my way around. I was even in the same room that I, as Sophie, slept in when we came to stay, while Dad now slept in the large spare room. It was a pleasant room, and I could feel Dad was at home here. There was a poster of Steve McQueen on a motorcycle taken from the Great Escape movie. Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher), together with the other cast members of Star Wars, was in pride of place, and various other actresses also featured, with the minimum of clothes.

It was nice just wearing jeans and an old tee shirt, so I was able to relax, and I found my little sister, Sally, a nice kid and we got on very well.

There was just as much rubbish on the TV in 1978 as there was in 2003, only many more channels of rubbish. I liked the Sweeney and the Professionals. They were very dated and corny, but good fun. We played Monopoly and Cluedo, as the rain just fell and fell. Sally and I would talk, and I found myself talking about clothes, make up and girl things with her. I then made up my mind that I would have to tell someone, as I was very fond of my Aunt Sally, so one day, I just told her the truth. She was confused about her ‘big brother’ talking about such girly things in any case, so I took the plunge.

“Sally, I’m not Rob. I don’t know how, or why, but I am not your brother. My name is Sophie, and I was born in 1988. I am Rob’s daughter, he is my Dad. There was an accident involving a washing machine, and we were both electrocuted. I don’t know what happened to him, but I ended up here, in his body.”

She stared at me, and I explained a little more. In the end, I think that she believed me, asking me lots of questions about the future. I told her she married a man and had two children. I refused to divulge her husband’s name, as I did not want to have been responsible for making her marry the wrong guy. I mean, if she only married Keith because I had told her she would, how gross would that be?”

I then wrote a letter to be given to Sophie after Dad and I were involved in an accident involving the washing machine. She took it and hid it somewhere safe.

The time passed, and I told her always to call me Rob, otherwise we would both get into trouble. She was fine, treating it like an adventure. As half term went on, I think she thought it was all a joke.

On the last weekend of half term, some friends came over. I had to go back to school on the Sunday night. These were friends of my ‘parents’ and as always the children were expected to get on. In this case there was a boy, Rodney, aged 12 and a girl called Emma, aged 14.

It became apparent that Emma had the hots for me, as Rob, and this was not a new thing. In fact, as soon as we were alone, she came bounding up and before I could react, thrust her tongue down my throat.

I think I conducted myself with dignity and did not let the side down, but was relieved when Sally came and interrupted things. The day was rather tense, with her looking to get us by ourselves, and with me trying to always have others near me. At this rate she’d dump Dad, and I had no problem with that.

Ah. I thought. Emma Harrison, I remember now. Dad thought she was a little forward. I agreed, and was grateful when they left. I was somewhat let down by the fact that my first kiss was with a girl, but at least it wasn’t with Sean.

Or would I have preferred that?

Oh, was I getting so confused?

I just hoped that Dad wasn’t kissing all my girl friends, thereby turning me into a social leper. Then I thought of him with Matthew Kaiser, and got very frustrated. I hoped he wouldn’t find out that Matthew was the main reason that I had wanted to go to the Justin Timberlake concert. But equally, I hoped that he wouldn’t completely ruin any chance I had with him by being a prude.

I then imagined Dad, as me, in my school changing room, with naked girls all around him. Oh dear, poor old man, it’d damn near kill him, I thought, giggling at the picture.

“What is so funny?” Sally asked me.

“Nothing. It’s too rude,” I said, and then told her anyway.

She thought that was very funny, but I’m not sure she understood it. I hoped she didn’t in any case.

I went back after half term, to find nothing had changed. Not that I had expected anything to, but I really wanted this nightmare to end.

Mrs Rennie started taking us into the school theatre to start rehearsing properly. I found that I had learned my part pretty thoroughly, particularly as Sean, Mike and I spent quite a bit of time going through it together.

Our general performance was still very stilted, and the main cause seemed to be those of us selected to play girls parts.

“Come, come. You must learn to pretend to be whom you are portraying. You all look like boys and behave like boys,” she said.

“Probably because we are boys,” I muttered, making everyone laugh.

“Oh, Rob. That doesn’t help. Perhaps if you were to get into costume, that would help you focus.”

We moaned and groaned, but she was adamant, and the four of us were despatched to see Mrs Harris.

We didn’t have time for all the changes, and besides she hadn’t done all the alterations yet, so it was one costume each. I was given the yellow dress and the wig.

We were given slightly padded bras and flesh coloured tights. I was told to go and put everything on, and to wait for her to help with make up.

I dressed quickly, and it felt really strange to be Sophie again. The bra gave me the appearance of an A cup, and I felt I’d been short changed, so, with some tissues I enlarged it to a healthy looking C cup. Mrs Rennie was taking an age with the make up, so I did my own, as I had been doing to for ages. The wig was actually not too bad, so with a bit of fiddling about, I managed to get it looking okay. I even painted my fingernails and was blowing on them when she came to do me, and she gasped in surprise.

“Goodness, how on earth did you manage that?” she asked.

“I watched you,” I lied. “Is it okay?”

I knew that I looked a lot better than her attempts on the others, and she frowned.

“It’ll do for rehearsal, well done, that’s saved a lot of time.”

Do?

Hmph, I knew it was better than any of the others.

I was given a pair of cream high-heeled shoes, and had no difficulty in walking in them. I looked very like the Sophie I really was, and my reflection caused me a pang of home-sickness. I wanted to go back to where I belonged.

We walked back to the stage area, all of us feeling very uncomfortable. When the others saw me, I think they were a bit shocked. Not so much at the visual impact, although I was aware how convincing I was, but at my mannerisms and general deportment. Sophie was back, and I was actually loving it.

Sean’s face was a picture, but I knew that I would have to tread very carefully with him. He was looking confused, pleased, uncomfortable and in love, all at once.

“Right. Places everyone. We have an hour and a half, so let’s give it our best,” Mrs Rennie said, and off we went.

The time went too quickly, and I just forgot Rob and became myself, Sophie. It was so easy, and it was even pleasant having a bust back. They didn’t move or feel right, but they looked almost right, so I was able to be me.

The scene where Sean had to kiss me was treated with the usual amount of catcalls and rude noises, and yet he still managed to kiss me, and I was careful not to respond.

“We are going to have to work on that, Rob. You look as if you expect to catch some horrible disease from him.”

I looked at Sean, and he was unable to meet my eyes.

“Okay,” I said, “Sean, come here.”

Sean looked up in alarm, and frowned. I walked over to him, and grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him right on the lips, and let my tongue sneak into his mouth very briefly.

I then broke off, while he stood there stunned. The jeers and cheers echoed around the hall, but Mrs Rennie smiled in approval.

“That’s better. Now, let’s move on.”

After it was over and I had changed back into Rob, I cleaned off the makeup and my nail varnish. Jonathon, the boy who played Giselle, Sophie’s friend in the play, was doing the same.

“Rob?”

“What?”

“How do you manage to look so much like a girl?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t try. I just let the character take over.”

“I thought you were very brave to kiss Sean like that.”

“Or stupid. Mrs Rennie wanted it, so I just got it over with. It’s only a play, Jon, I don’t see why everyone is getting so hung up. It’s not as if I’m gay or anything.”

“You were the best out of everyone.”

“Thanks, you were okay, but rather nervous.”

“I feel uncomfortable in a dress.”

“So do I, I just don’t let it bother me.”

“You look as if you’re used to it.”

“Nah, I’m as uncomfortable as you are,” I lied.

We finished up and left the hall. Sean was waiting for me, which I had been sort of expecting.

The three of us walked together in silence, until Jonathon peeled off to go to his house.

“I couldn’t believe you did that,” he said.

“What?”

“You know.”

“Look, I had to, otherwise we would have fucked about all afternoon.”

“But you….”

“Yes, I know. Just don’t read anything into it, okay?” I asked.

“You looked just like a girl. The way you walked and even your voice.”

“Sean, forget it, I was trying to act, as that’s what people do in plays.”

“Yeah, but you were doing it even when you weren’t on stage.”

“It’s called method acting. You get into character and try to stay there until you change out of the costume. Look, Sean, this is bloody hard for me, so don’t make it even more complicated. I can’t cope with all that right now.”

We went into the House and up to the study.

“It’s as if something changed in you after you got hit on the head.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s daft, but you almost seem to be a different person since I knocked you out.”

“In what way?”

“I dunno. You seem warmer, and somehow more, this will sound daft, but more feminine.”

“Feminine?”

“Well, not so much feminine, but more gentle and understanding, less macho.”

I turned and looked out of the window. I did not want him to see the tears in my eyes. I had tried so hard and still failed.

“Rob, I’m sorry. I’ve upset you,” he said, making it worse. I was so close to telling him the truth, and was just about to when Mike came in, which broke the spell.

Completely oblivious that there was an atmosphere in the study, he shattered any hope I had of explaining my predicament to Sean, who still was as confused as ever, even more so now I had kissed him. And the worst of it was, I had really enjoyed the kiss.
 
 
Chapter 7. Rob's Story
 
 
“Miss Mills, if it is not too hard for you, would you like to join the rest of us?”

I was startled out of my daydream.

Mrs Hardacre could be a sarcastic cow when she wanted to. And, with me (or rather, with Sophie) she seemed to want to rather too often, like all the time. It was said that her husband stayed with her for six months and then buggered off to New Zealand with her younger sister. There was little wonder that she was such a miserable cow.

She was about fifty, and dressed in a style that went out of fashion at the time of the Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Her greying brown hair was cut short in a mannish style, and brushed forward to a straight fringe across her brow. She was thin and angular, always walking very quickly, as if in a hurry to get away from something. Her laugh, when used to make some unfortunate girl feel particularly dense, resembled a hyena’s bray. Thus, everyone called her ‘the Hyena’.

“Sorry, Mrs Hardacre.”

“So I should think. Now I know that you and Mathematics are incompatible, but as we have been on quadratic equations for several weeks, do you think you could at least attempt the problem on the board?”

I went up and took the board marker from her, as she sat on her table with folded arms and a resigned smirk on her face.

It was a reasonably complex quadratic equation, so I cast my mind back to my A level maths. Unlike Sophie, I actually loved maths, and had been very good at it.

I briefly looked at it, started breaking down the components, and worked it out coming to a satisfactory conclusion showing all workings. I handed back the marker, and went and sat down.

She stared at the board for a moment and then at me.

“Well. Was that a fluke, I wonder?”

The class laughed at her for a change, as very few girls liked her. She was a miserable woman, good at maths, but with the social graces of a tsetse fly.

She didn’t like it one little bit, and copied out an even more advanced equation onto the board.

“Come on, little Miss Know-all. Let’s see you try this one,” she said, with a discernible sneer in her voice.

I returned, took the marker from her and completed the problem in about ten seconds. I put the marker down and sat down to a round of applause. She was really quite cross now, as her favourite task was the humiliation of all her pupils.

One girl, Gail, was clapping louder than the others, so she picked on her to do the next one, and this was even more difficult. Gail went forward and made a good effort, but instead of encouraging and helping, the Hyena mocked and belittled her to such an extent that she started to cry. I stood up.

“Enough!” I said, very loudly.

She looked at me.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked.

“I don’t know when you went to teacher training college. But since when have humiliation, sarcasm and bullying been acceptable teaching methods?”

There was a gasp from the class. The ensuing silence was such as one could have heard a mouse fart.

“Just because you have been unable to sustain a relationship with a fellow human being for over thirty years, what gives you the right to demean and belittle us when you should be guiding and encouraging?

“I used to be very good at maths before you took over. Now I hate it because of you and the way you treat my friends and I. You ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself, and I personally have had enough of you.”

I was angry now, and my speech was from the heart. I was about to re-launch another scathing attack on the pasty-faced woman who was stunned into silence, when I was interrupted.

“Miss Mills, could you come to my office please?” came another voice from our left. Mrs Hardacre was as surprised as the rest of us, but it seems that the head mistress, Mrs Kimble, had been in the doorway for the last five minutes.

I walked out of the door and along the corridor with Mrs Kimble a short distance behind me. I stopped by her office door.

She opened the door and I went in.

“Sit down, Sophie.”

I sat in a seat in front of her large desk. She sat behind the desk.

“How is your father?”

“The same, he’s still in a coma.”

“I’m so sorry. It must be horrible for you?”

“It is,” I said. You don’t know the half, I thought.

“Now, what was this all about?”

I looked at Mrs Kimble and bit the bullet.

“I’m probably in enough trouble, but I don’t care. That woman is a nasty, horrible bully, who humiliates everyone in nearly every lesson. Ever since we started maths with her she has made it hell. She has a few favourites and the rest of us are just treated like shit. I’ve had enough, and I can’t do maths with her any more. There is no way I’ll be able to get my GCSE in the summer with her as my teacher,” I said, sitting back and waiting for the reaction.

“You seemed to do the equations very capably today.”

“That’s because last time I had homework, I was in tears, and my Dad spent four hours explaining it to me. That bloody woman wouldn’t even cross the road to piss on me if I was on fire.”

I think I might have gone a bit far, as I’d got a tad carried away.

Mrs Kimble stared at me, her lips trembling, so I knew I had gone over the top.

She got up from behind her desk and stood looking out of the window, with her back to me. She was shaking, which I at first thought it was in anger. Then I realised she was trying hard not to laugh.

She managed to control herself, so was expressionless when she turned back to face me.

“I do not condone that kind of language, but I understand the sentiments. I will speak to Mrs Hardacre, and see if we can come to a compromise.”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, but regardless of what you say to her, she’ll be just as foul to us, and even more sneaky. And because we’ve had this conversation, she is vindictive enough to make my life a living hell. I either have another teacher, or I drop maths.”

She looked at me long and hard, as I held her gaze. Then she smiled, a sort of resigned smile, as if to say, ‘I know what I must do, but was hoping to avoid it.’

“Very well, your maths set will have a new teacher as from next week. I have to say that this is not the first complaint against Mrs Hardacre, but she has been here for twenty years.”

“Twenty years too long,” I said, and then apologised.

“All right, Sophie. You’ve made your point, and very eloquently. I have to say that your father’s journalistic language style has obviously rubbed off on you somewhat.”

I decided to just sit in silence, enough had already been said.

“Well, go on girl, go back to the class, and ask Mrs Hardacre if she would be good enough t come and see me at the end of the class, please. I think everything has been said that needs to be said.”

I smiled and left.

I returned to the classroom, and Mrs Hardacre glared at me. If looks could kill, then someone should be measuring me for my coffin. But she didn’t frighten me, so I stared back just as hard. I took my place, and could tell that the rest of the class had been having a tough time in my absence.

The bell went and I passed my message to Mrs Hardacre.

“I suppose you’ve twisted the truth with your snivelling lies?” she said.

“No, Mrs Hardacre, I didn’t have to. It seems your reputation is already clearly imprinted on her brain, due to so many complaints being received over a twenty-year period. Anything I said simply reinforced what she already knew,” I told her, and there was a gasp from my classmates. I picked up my books and walked out.

She stood staring after me, and I was suddenly surrounded by the other girls.

“Sophie. Wait up!” shouted Gail.

I stopped and allowed her to run up to me. Three or four others also came up to us.

“What happened with Mrs Kimble?” Gail asked.

“I told her that Mrs Hardacre was a nasty vindictive bully, and I wasn’t going to do maths with her any more.”

“And what did she say?”

“She told me off for my language when I told her that the silly cow wouldn’t even cross the road to piss on me if I was on fire. Then she agreed and said that our set will have a different Maths teacher from now on.”

“Oh my God, you didn’t say that?”

I nodded. “It needed saying, why should she make so many people’s lives miserable just because she hasn’t had sex in thirty years?”

“Sophie. What did you say?” she asked, incredulously.

I repeated what I had said.

She convulsed into giggles, and the other girls all burst out in laughter. I hadn’t intended to be funny, but then my sense of humour was somewhat more cynical than theirs.

I was suddenly a very popular girl, and thought Sophie would have been proud of me.

By lunchtime, the story of what I had done had spread around the school like wildfire. Someone had seen Mrs Hardacre leaving the school in tears, and the tale of my stand against her was exaggerated beyond all recognition. Even some sixth formers looked at me with expressions that almost bordered on respect.

So many girls came up to me and congratulated me over what I had done, that I began to realise just how unpopular and obnoxious Mrs Hardacre actually was.

The rest of the day followed a by now familiar routine. I played some netball, and was actually coming to terms with who I was. In fact, for short periods, I found myself forgetting the predicament I was in, as events distracted me.

I went home on the bus, as usual, but found a familiar Vauxhall Corsa waiting at my bus stop. Matthew was standing in the rain waiting for me. As soon as the other girls saw him, they started cheering and whistling. I went very red.

I got off the bus and he came up to me with a huge soppy grin.

“Hi, I was hoping I had timed it right,” he said, kissing my cheek. There were five squished faces making kissy lips against the rear window of the bus as it drove off. I grinned at them and flicked a finger.

“Can I drive you home?”

“I only live two hundred yards up there,” I said, pointing towards my house.

“Please?”

I got in his car, shaking my head.

He made no move to start the car.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“You only saw me at the weekend.”

“I know, and I’ve been useless all week. I keep thinking about you, so I just had to see you.”

“Then you’re a very soppy boy.”

“And you are the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met,” he said, and I blushed.

“Do you want to go out for a Pizza?” he asked.

“I can’t, Matt. I have to go to the hospital to see my Dad.”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. How is he?”

I shrugged.

“No change. He is uninjured, but unconscious. The doctors don’t understand, as he is breathing and seems unharmed apart from the fact he is out to lunch.”

“It must be very hard for you?”

“It’s bloody awful, Matt. It was bad enough losing my Mum four years ago, but to have Dad just teetering on the brink. I can’t tell you how awful it is,” I said, finding myself in tears.

He reached out and took my hand.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, and he sounded mortified that he had started me off.

“It isn’t your fault, Matt. I haven’t been able to stop and cry yet. I have had to be strong for Steven, or my grandparents, or for school. But what nobody realises, is that I’m bloody close to losing it.”

He reached over with his arm, just holding me while whatever was inside me welled up and over-spilled. There was no pretence as I sobbed my heart out. He didn’t know it, but all my grief over my wife, the frustration over Sophie’s and my current predicaments, and the uncertainty of the future poured out of me, making his shoulder very wet indeed.

It was very cathartic, so after several minutes I dried up, feeling much better.

He handed a tissue to me, saying nothing. He appeared rather lost for words, and his concerned expression made me giggle. I blew my nose and smiled at him.

“Don’t look so horrified. I feel a lot better now.”

He looked a little relieved, so to make up to him, I gently kissed his cheek.

“Sophie, are you seeing anyone, I mean, have you got a boyfriend at the moment?”

I smiled and nodded, so he looked completely crestfallen.

“Oh,” he said.

“Yup, he is quite a nice boy, but he has an annoying habit of misunderstanding me.”

He frowned, looking so miserable, I felt sorry for being a bitch.

“Who is he?” he asked.

“You. You daft brush. Only if you want, that is.”

His smile lit up the car, and before I could react, he was crushing the wind out of me and we were kissing, properly, this time.

When I came up for air, he was a completely different person. So animated and cheerful, I could hardly believe it. He must have been working up to try to ask me all week. Poor love.

“Matt, take me home please, they’ll be getting worried,” I said, so he drove me the short distance to my house.

“Do you want to come in, it is pretty chaotic?”

He looked at the house,and then at me.

“I won’t thanks, I have to get back. I’ll call you later. Can I have your mobile number?”

I gave him the number, and he kissed me again.

“Bye. And thanks,” he said. I watched him drive off. I then remembered who I really was. I had forgotten for several minutes, as I had just enjoyed being Sophie.

I went in, to find Granny being bossy and getting supper ready. Aunt Sally came over, so after supper I changed into jeans and a tee shirt and put on some makeup. We had some time together as she drove me to the hospital, and in a way I didn’t like being reminded who I really was. We sat by the figure in the bed. For the first time, I began to feel totally detached from him. It dawned on me that I was almost content being Sophie, and I was beginning to look forward to each new day.

Sally sat next to me, leafing through a magazine, as I sat and did some homework. The bleeps and other sounds from the monitors were quite reassuring, and it was a very peaceful place. Every now and again, a nurse would come in to check things, and then simply smile at me and leave again. I was here every day, so they were used to seeing me doing my homework by my Dad’s bed.

“I can’t bear this. I’m going for a walk. Do you want a drink?” Sally asked.

“No thanks, I’m fine.”

She disappeared, as she usually did, and I looked at the sleeping figure of what used to be me.

“I hope you are enjoying this,” I said, and then jumped when there was a cough behind me.

I spun round and saw Matt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, still quite shaken by surprise.

“I missed you,” he said, as if it explained everything.

“Matt, you only saw me a couple of hours ago.”

“I know, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You really are a sad Muppet,” I said, standing up.

He looked at my work, all strewn across the bed.

“Homework?”

“Yeah, I can at least get peace and quiet here, or at least, I used to be able to.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

I kissed his cheek.

“It’s okay, it’s nice of you to come.”

We sat together, and he tried helping me with some of my work, for which I was grateful.

Sally returned and saw us. Her eyebrows shot up and I just grinned.

“Aunty Sally, this is my friend Matthew. Matt, this is my Aunt Sally,” I said, and they shook hands. Sally’s expression of horror was brilliant, so I almost got the giggles.

“How much longer do you want to be?” Sally asked. I looked at the amount of homework I had yet to do, and roughly calculated how long it would take me.

“An hour?” I said, and she frowned.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long. I have a call coming in that I have to deal with.”

“I’ll take her home,” offered Matthew.

“Good, then that’s settled, you go, Aunt Sally, and Matthew will take me home,” I said.

She opened her mouth to protest, and then thought better of it. I smiled, as there were certain benefits at being the elder sibling, even if I didn’t actually look like her older brother.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” she said to me. Sister to brother.

“Perfectly, thanks. I will see you tomorrow,” I said, so she left, shaking her head.

Matthew stared at the unconscious figure for a few moments.

“He doesn’t look too bad.”

“He isn’t. Not physically anyway. It’s his brain. It’s as if he has gone on holiday,” I explained.

“Weird.”

“Yup,” I said, getting down to my homework.

“Sophie?”

“What?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Perhaps, but I don’t really know. Why?”

“I think I love you,” he said, all bashful.

“That’s nice,” I said.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“I know. I don’t mean to sound callous, but we have only seen each other three times. Maybe I’m different to you, or maybe I have a lot happening in my life. What can I say? I think you’re cute, good looking, you make me laugh and I like being with you. If that’s being in love, then maybe I am too, but I think it has to go a little deeper than that. Maybe if we get to know each other a bit better, then that will come.”

He seemed to be thinking about that, and then he grinned.

“You like being with me?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, smiling at the ridiculous situation I found myself.

He sat next to me until I finished my homework. He said nothing, but I did like him being there. Finally, the work finished, I put everything away in my bags.

“You didn’t seem to have any trouble with your physics.”

“No, I’m just brilliant,” I said, grinning.

“I know,” he said, making me blush.

“I was joking,” I said.

“I wasn’t.”

I smiled, as he was just so sweet.

He even carried my bag out to his car. He drove me home very slowly, as if to prolong our time together. He parked outside the house and switched the engine off.

“Thanks, Matt,” I said, and he smiled.

“I love you,” he said.

“So you said.”

“Can we go out on Friday or Saturday evening?”

“I’d like to.”

“What shall we do?”

“I don’t know. A movie?”

“Okay, which one?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Shall I pick you up?”

“Which day?”

“Both?”

I laughed. “Okay, pick me up at seven,” I said.

He got out as I did and stood beside me.

“May I kiss you?”

“Who asks?”

“I do,” he said, and then we were locked in a tight embrace, and kissing.

I let what was Sophie in me take over and it was wonderful. He held me firmly and yet gently, so I caressed his face and shoulders. Eventually, I broke off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, then?” I said, leaving him looking after me.

I breezed in and went straight up to my room. I had a nice hot bath and just enjoyed feeling female. I loved the way Matthew made me feel when he kissed me, and for the first time, let my fingers explore my vagina. I brought myself to orgasm whilst lying in the bath thinking of Matthew. Nothing prepared me for the sensations I experienced, and eventually I had to stop, as I had lost count of the amount of times I had climaxed.

The frightening thing was that had Matthew walked in at that moment, I would have made love to him, quite happily and oblivious to any risk of pregnancy. I began to appreciate the power of sex. It was little wonder that there were so many single mothers.

Just before I fell asleep, I remembered that I was once called Rob.
 
 
Chapter 8. Sophie's Story
 
 
The ball was high, and spinning. I was running back, keeping my eye on it, very conscious of the enemy who were pounding up the pitch towards me. We were four points down with a few minutes to play, and this was one of the most important matches of the season.

Haileybury was a much bigger school, with nearly 900 boys. Every year it was a matter of fierce pride to beat them, or at least give them a tough game. This year it was the closest ever, and still we had yet to pull ahead. I was full back in the Colts, and I had more bruises on me than ever. I was covered in mud and looked totally bedraggled. I had tacked more in this match than I had ever tackled before, and I was getting very good at kicking for touch when in defence.

The rain was falling very hard, and the dark blue shirts of the enemy looked almost black. The ball was wet and the ground was so soft that it was very slippery.

I watched the ball right into my hands, side stepping the boy who had originally kicked it. I then pretended to kick it, causing the other opponents that were just yards away, to slither to a stop. I side-stepped them and started to run for the enemy try line. I had no real intention to reach it, but I had some strange wind of fate behind me that day.

We were on their pitch in front of their school, and fifty of their boys were there on the touchline cheering on the enemy. Only Mr Green was there for us, shouting himself purple in the face.

I sold a dummy to their full back, and before I realised it I dived over the line, as three large boys attempted to sever my spinal cord and remove all my limbs.

I lay exhausted, battered, yet as I heard the whistle, I felt the most amazing feeling of euphoria and triumph.

I stood up, still holding the ball. Some grudging applause was being given from the touchline, and I thought Mr Green was going to have an apoplexy.

I ran back, as our Captain, Mel Lewis, clapped me on the back.

“Go on Rob, Take the kick yourself, you deserve it.”

I was aghast. I was no good at kicking.

But such was my euphoria, that I dug the hole with my heel, and placed the ball in the hole.

I then took several paces back, and on a whim, because I thought Johnny Wilkinson looked sexy, took three steps to my left. I had never tried to hook the ball with my instep, and thought, what the hell? There is a first time for everything.

I ran and kicked, aware of the enemy charging at me.

The ball rose and sailed between the posts, and I leaped for joy.

I had done it.

The referee blew his whistle for full time. We had won!

I disappeared under my cheering team-mates, as they literally hoisted me in the air and carried me to the touchline, where we were clapped from the pitch by out honourable opponents, so we did the same for them.

The mood in the changing room was indescribable. If we had won the world cup, we could not have been more ecstatic. It was brilliant, and as I finished getting dressed, I realised that I had completely forgotten that I was really Sophie for the last couple of hours.

This didn’t worry me a lot, so I went to tea with my friends without a care in the world. Mr Green came over to us, warmly congratulating us all. To me he was particularly effusive with his praise.

“That match has just secured you a place in the first game next season,” he said. “I’m recommending for you to be awarded your Colts colours too.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning.

“Seriously, Rob, you played brilliantly. You have developed into a first class full back. That knock on your head seems to have done your no harm at all,” he said.

We travelled back by coach, and I learned all the rudest rugby songs that day. When we arrived back, our victory was common knowledge, and as the firsts had been beaten at home by Haileybury firsts, we were the only ones to have won.

For the next week, I felt as if I was walking on air. My reputation in the school took on a new height, and even the sixth formers treated me with respect. Rugby heroes were the highest form of hero in the school culture, and even the head master drew attention to or victory in the assembly in chapel on Friday morning.

November was nearly over and the nights were drawing in. I was up to scratch with all my scholastic subjects, and now I was a hero on the sports field too. The play was going well, as I revelled in my part as Sophie.

I would don the dress every time, with makeup and all that went with it. Sean was having a hard time coming to terms with his sexuality.

One evening in the study, whilst Mike was at swimming, he confided his latest confusions.

“Rob?” he said, and my heart sank on hearing his tone of voice.

“Yes?”

“Can I bounce something off you?”

“Go on then,” I said, sighing in resignation.

“You know that I thought I was gay?”

“Yes Sean.”

“Well, I don’t think I am.”

“Good,” I said, hoping that was it.

It wasn’t.

“No, I realised that actually I was confused because I had never been attracted by a girl before.”

“Oh?” I said.

“Well, now I have been attracted by a girl, I realise that it is so much better than being attracted by a boy.”

“I am pleased for you. Really. So, who is she?” I asked, knowing yet fearing what the answer was going to be.

“It’s Sophie,” he said, and my heart sank. I had been right.

“Sean?”

“Yes?”

“Sophie isn’t real.”

“She is to me.”

“Sean, you’re an ass. I’m Sophie, and Sophie is me. It’s only a play, remember? We’re acting. That’s all.”

He shook his head.

“To you, maybe, but Sophie is real to me. Every time she appears, I tell myself that she is really Rob in a dress and makeup, and yet, every time, she proves me wrong. Something happens, and she becomes real. It’s like magic or something, and I know that I no longer fancy boys, I dream about Sophie every day, every night, and any other time I can.

“She’s a real girl to me, with real breasts and a narrow waist. She has a vagina, and could have my child, eventually. She is soft and feminine, and her smile lights up my life, while her laughter is a tonic for me. She has cured me.”

I sat there, stunned by his openness, honesty and utter stupidity. Yet there was something in what he said. I felt different when I was Sophie. I felt that I was me again, the real me, Sophie - The girl who had yet to be born, and who was yet to be a twinkle in Rob’s eye. It wasn’t anything to do with willies or vaginas, but everything to do with one’s spirit. No matter what body I had, my spirit was a girl, and that was the spirit that Sean had glimpsed.

On the other hand, the physical was important, as whenever I was dressed and ‘playing’ the boy part, any thoughts of a romantic entanglement with Sean was less and less attractive. Oh, when I’d first become Rob, there had been the occasional silly thought, but as I’d become Rob for longer, those thoughts had gone away.

When I was Sophie, it was as if that twinkle came to life, in a brief and limited spell whilst the play was acted out.

“You know that Sophie and you will never become a reality?”

“I know that.”

“There are other girls.”

“I know that too.”

“Oh Sean, how can I help you?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Rob, I honestly don’t know. But I do know that Sophie is real.”

“She is. I can at least allow you that.”

He smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Sean, she wants you to find someone to love properly.”

“I know,” he said, and smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“She is so much better than all the others.”

“Maybe, but she is spoken for.”

“I know,” he said, rather sadly.

“Look, whenever Sophie is here, and she will be gone by the end of term, she wants you to love her and she might even love you back,” I said, and then wondered what the hell I was doing.

“Then I’ll be happy.”

“Now, shut up and let me finish my essay,” I said, and he looked far more contented.

We had another rehearsal on the following day, and Sophie was there once more. As soon as I walked in through the door, Sean was by my side.

“Hi Sophie. I’ve missed you.”

“Hi Sean, me too. Are you okay?” I said, feeling a real fool, yet it seemed so natural in a really daft way.

The rehearsal started, and we just left things flow. When others were doing their lines, we sat quietly together. To everyone else, there was no change, but for us, it was very different.

I felt something for him, but not as Rob for Sean. This was me, as Sophie, and as Sophie I returned his love. We talked about silly little things, and I longed to hold him and to kiss him.

We got our chance when the love scene arrived. We said our lines, without having to look at the books, and then melted into each other’s arms, and the kiss, although brief, was so real and wonderful, that we both felt it at the same moment. Despite the usual chorus of jeers and kissing noises, it was a special moment, and it took Sean by surprise. He hadn’t expected Sophie to respond like that, and his expression of surprise and joy was a wonder to behold. It was only a glimpse, but I saw it, and as Sophie, I had smiled.

The magic lasted until she disappeared and Sophie was once more hung on a hanger until the next time. Sean never confused Rob with Sophie, and neither did I. We both talked about Sophie in the third person, and it got so silly that he would tell me about what he and she had done. He would recount to me the conversation that he had had with her. It was as if Rob was not involved at all.

I wondered what this was doing for either of our sanities, particularly his.

But he seemed to be so much more relaxed and confident. It was as if all his inner demons had been exorcised, and he was now free to really discover his destiny. The trick would be to allow him to say goodbye to Sophie and then move on. It could destroy him if I wasn’t careful.

The character of Sophie kept me sane. Because, without her, I was slowly becoming Rob in every way. I had acclimatised to the school the culture the discipline, the cadets and the sport. Surprisingly, I actually looked forward to playing rugby, and knew that I had skills. Days went past that, without the Sophie from the play, I would have never thought about Sophie from the future. Rob was there all the time, and I needed something to keep reminding me of where I came from and to where I wanted to return.

I was awarded my Colts colours and felt proud and pleased. The coach of the first XV, Mr McLean, even came up to me in the courtyard one morning.

“Ah, Mills. I’ve heard good things about you. I hope you are ready for the first game next season, as I need a reliable full back?”

“Yes sir, looking forward to it,” I said, hoping that Dad would deliver.

“Jolly good. Keep up the good work,” he said, and off he went.
 

*          *          *
 
The day of the dress rehearsal arrived, and the sets were all made and everything was as ready as it could be.

We had two performances, the Friday night in front of the school, and the Saturday afternoon in front of parents. The senior play was on the following week, and they had three performances, the school, and then two performances for guests and parents.

On the Saturday after our second performance, there was the Christmas Ball for the fifth and sixth forms. Girls were brought over from our sister school, St Mary’s. There was always strict supervision, but it was still a rare occasion to mix with members of the opposite sex.

A plan began to hatch in my head, and I felt very pleased with myself, but to be successful, I had to be very lucky and very quick.

The dress rehearsal went without a hitch, apart from a few lost cues and the odd forgotten line. Mrs Rennie felt we were ready. I was very nervous, but Sean was really excited, as he was going be able to kiss Sophie several times over the next two days.

I had approached Mrs Rennie some weeks previously, and made a couple of requests. She seemed quite surprised, yet I said that it would give the play more realism, and would be then available for all the future plays the school would produce. To my surprise she agreed, and on the day of the first performance, she produced a first class blonde wig, to my exact specifications, and the piece de resistance, a pair of silicone breast forms.

When changing into Sophie, I really took trouble over my make up and even varnished my fingernails and toenails. I had shaved all excess body hair, and knew that I looked the part. The wig was just like my own hair, and as I slipped on the first dress for the first scene, I felt completely like me for the first time in ages.

I walked out to the back stage area, there was a sudden hush. Sean’s jaw dropped, so I slowly and deliberately walked right up to him.

“Hi Sean, close your mouth, Honey, otherwise you will start to drool,” I said very quietly.

“Sophie?” he said.

“Yup. Me.”

“You look wonderful,” he said.

I looked at him from under my eyelashes.

“Just for you, babe,” I said, and he flushed redder than a beetroot.

“Places everyone, five minutes,” said Mrs Rennie.

The curtain parted and the play started, for an hour and a half, Sophie was real for both me and for Sean. The kisses were brief but sizzling. And the jeers and catcalls went unheeded.

The performance was a great success, but Sophie disappeared quickly at the end.

I found it so hard, but I forced myself back to being Rob. What I was going to do after the play was over I just hated to think.

The next day, Sean was wound up like a poison pup. He kept asking me whether Sophie would go to the Christmas Ball with him.

“Sean, how would I know, you will have to ask her,” I said, and the fool simply nodded, walking off.

The Ball was due to start at eight pm. The play was due to end at seven thirty, which theoretically gave us enough time to change and get to the ball. I had slightly different plans. One day, whilst I was pottering in the wardrobe department, I found a ‘little black number’. It was a stunning black dress with shoulder straps, and very tight fitting. I had tried it on, and it fitted beautifully. Mrs Rennie had told me that periodically we had clothing donated on the death of family members of old boys, and some were extremely rich. Thus, some of the ladies’ clothes were the top names of their day.

I had, therefore, acquired the loan of this dress, without anyone’s knowledge. I intended to go with Sean to the Ball, and see him introduced to a real girl and then take my leave.

There were a hundred things that could go wrong, but I hoped and prayed for the same wind of fate that took me over that try line in the match against Haileybury.

I was early to the backstage area, so was already changed and ready before most of the others. While they were getting changed, I prepared my escape route from the Big Hall, where the ball was to be held. I had to get out, change from Sophie back into Rob, and return without being discovered. The theatre would be shut, so I had to leave some clothing in a location where I was guaranteed to be able to change in peace. I had found that the RAF hut was easy to get into, so by leaving a window latch undone, I knew exactly where I could go.

It was weird walking about the school as a girl, but as there were many parents and other guests about, no one thought anything odd about it. In fact, several boys gaped at me, and I was whistled at twice. I dropped my bag of clothes through the RAF hut window, and returned to the theatre.

Sean’s eyes lit up as soon as I walked in, and he rushed over to me.

“Sophie, I was worried about you. Look, is there any way you could come to the Ball with me?” he said, almost so quickly that he tied his tongue in his haste to ask me.

“Sean, I have to leave, but I promise I’ll have at least one dance with you. On one condition.”

“Condition? What condition?” asked Sean, uncertainly.

“Before I go, I want to introduce you to a girl, and I want you to treat her as well as you do me,” I said.

He frowned.

“Look Sean, I’m going to go away, and I can’t come back, but I want you to be happy, so please, for me?”

“For you, yes. I’ll do it for you,” he said, so I kissed his cheek.

The play was even better this time. Not one line went astray, and it went very slickly. I forgot Rob completely and became Sophie right down to my core, and I was more tactile towards Sean than ever before.

Our love scenes were as passionate as the circumstances allowed, and at the end, the applause said it all. When Sean and I stepped forward to take our bows, the applause grew to a crescendo. I curtseyed really low, and the applause grew even more. I blew kisses to everyone, and then Sean came on carrying a bouquet of roses for me.

I almost burst into tears, but managed to deal with it theatrically, which got a laugh from the audience.

Then the curtain fell, and everyone started to change. I told Sean that I would meet him by the main door of Big Hall. I then disappeared into the loo, and changed into my little black dress. I took off the theatrical make up, and put on lighter make up, but in such a way to change my facial appearance. I had kept my eye makeup quite low key on the stage, but by using black mascara and heavy eyeliner, I created an older and sexier model, one that I felt very pleased with.

I slipped out and made it to the main door just as everyone was going in. Sean was waiting by the steps, and jumped when I touched his arm.

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” I said, and he stared at me.

“My God, you look beautiful. You’ve changed your eyes.”

“Yup, I don’t want to be recognised.”

He smiled, “You won’t be, you’re so different,” he said, holding out his arm. I took it and he led me up the stairs.

There was a disco going, but only a few people were dancing. For the most part there were two distinct groups of self-conscious males and females at either end of the hall.

I pulled Sean onto the floor and we danced, oblivious to everyone else. I gave him two dances, and then kissed him on the cheek. I had been looking at all the girls and had spotted one tall girl who was very pretty, but seemed to behave as if she were overly conscious of her height.

I held Sean’s hand and led him over to her.

“Hi, I’m Sophie,” I said.

She frowned, as most of the girls were from St. Mary’s and only a few were local girls on special invitation. She didn’t recognise me, so must have concluded that I was either the daughter of a staff member, or a local girl.

“I’m Angela,” she said.

“Look Angela, this is Sean, and I need you to do me a big favour. I have to go, and I’d like you to look after him for a bit. You see I can’t come back, and he is such a lummox that he needs taking care of. Any chance you could look after him for a couple of dances?”

“When are you coming back?” she asked, looking up at him.

“I’m not. Ever,” I said, turning and kissing him one last time. I then walked straight out. I didn’t turn back, as I did not want Sean to see me cry. I ran to the RAF hut, and twenty minutes later back as Rob Mills walked into the Hall, and casually glanced at Sean, who was dancing with the tall girl called Angela.

“Hey, Rob, where have you been?” asked Mike.

“I had to change after the play, it took me ages getting all the makeup off.”

“For a moment I thought you had come as Sophie. Sean was dancing with a girl who looked rather like you did. I think she was a bit older, though,” he said, scanning the crowd.

“There’s Sean, and he is with a taller girl now, where the hell has the other girl gone?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s get a drink,” I said and we went and got some non-alcoholic punch.

I was torn as I watched Sean. Part of me ached to be with him, but mostly I was pleased for him. Mike saw a girl he knew, and asked her to dance, so I was watching them when a girl came over to me.

She was a few inches shorter than I, but was very pretty, with long auburn hair. She had on a pale blue dress and had a lovely smile. There was something familiar about her.

“Hi. You’re the boy who played the girl in the play, aren’t you?”

I blushed. “Afraid so,” I said.

“I’m Anna Martin, my Dad is the Chemistry teacher. I watched the play. You were very good. I thought you were a real girl until someone told me you weren’t.”

“I don’t know whether to be pleased or not,” I said, smiling. I remembered seeing her around the school, and only knew that she was the daughter of one of the teachers.

“Was it hard?”

“Pretending to be a girl? Yes, but after I got used to it, it was quite fun. The problem with playing girls’ parts here is that everyone calls you names and takes the piss.”

She giggled. “Why, there’s nothing strange with you, is there?” she asked.

“Nothing, why?”

“I just wondered, you might not like girls, or something.”

I got the message and asked her to dance.

I felt very self-conscious, but actually Anna was a very nice girl. She was just fifteen, and she told me that she had seen me play rugby and had wanted to find out whom I was. We had a good time, staying together even when the music slowed. We even had a little smooch.

Sean was locked in quite a passionate embrace with Angela, and I was so happy for him, so I was finally able to relax. Dad would be happy to know that I had cured him. I grinned, and found myself kissing Anna. This experience was really screwing me up, let alone Sean.
 
 
Chapter 9. Rob's Story
 
 
My routine continued unaltered into December, and Matt became a semi-permanent feature of my life. So much so, that he took over taking me to hospital to see Dad. Sally found it really hilarious, and would tease me unmercifully about it. I was actually fine, as Sophie and I had merged, so I was perfectly content with my sexuality.

Matthew was very sweet, but never once suggested anything improper should take place. In fact, if anything, I was more aggressively sexual than he was. I really enjoyed the feelings I experienced, and intended to make the most of it, as I hoped that on Christmas Eve, I would be me again.

The day of the Justin Timberlake concert arrived, so I went over to Jenny’s house. Caroline and another couple of girls from their year were there. Although the youngest, I didn’t look it. I had deliberately dressed for the time of year, with a denim skirt and thick tights. I also wore a fluffy pullover and a leather jacket.

The mini-bus collected us, so I sat next to Matthew all the way up. He slung a proprietary arm across my shoulders and I snuggled close to him. He made me feel safe, and I loved the tingle I experienced whenever he touched me. I was Sophie more than ever, and Rob was a distant memory. I had no qualms and no regrets, but I knew that my time was limited, but just tried not to think about it too much.

It took us a couple hours to get there, and then once we were dropped off, we had to queue to get in. The atmosphere was amazing, and I just soaked it up. I had been to a couple of concerts in the early 1980s, but nothing as extravagant as this.

Justin was brilliant. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and even more so with Matthew there. We sang all the way home, when we weren’t actually kissing. I stayed what was left of the night with Jenny, and we slept long into Sunday morning.

I felt very ashamed of myself for not wanting Sophie to go to the concert, and I re-examined my attitudes and values. Matthew behaved like a true gentleman, if anything, I had been the tart. Even so, both of us were responsible, and nothing happened to cause any concern at all. I almost wished that I had longer as I wanted to experience sex as a girl. But, on the other hand, I did not want to take that first joy away from my daughter.

I got home just before lunch, and Granny gave me a lecture about boys. I stood, smiling and nodding, while Steven grinned at me, making faces behind his grandmother’s back. After lunch, we all trooped off to the hospital and sat around the bed. It was pretty futile, but I felt it was our duty.

We returned around teatime, and I could tell that there was something on my grandparents’ minds. As we sat round the sitting room, Granny started the conversation I had been dreading.

“Sophie dear. We really must consider the future. We can’t stay here indefinitely, and we have to accept that your father may never come back to us. Even if he does come round, he may never be the same person that he once was.”

That was one certainty, I thought.

“So, what are you saying?” I asked.

“Well, we thought we might send you two to a boarding school, and then you could stay with us in the holidays. We must really think about going home soon.”

“But I have all my friends at school, and I’m doing so well. I have my GCSEs in the summer, so I really don’t want to have to move schools.”

“I don’t mind, I hate my school. Besides Sophie only wants to stay because of her boyfriend,” said Steven.

“Well, we do accept that your studies are important, so we will not take you out until the end of the school year, but certainly if your father is not back with us by the new year, we may have to start thinking about such things,” Grandpa said.

“Dad will be all right, I just know it,” I said, and saw the glance that my grandparents exchanged between themselves.

Frustrated, I ran up to my room and shut the door. I was not in the mood to have an argument or a discussion with them at this moment in time. It dawned on me that the discussion not withstanding, my monthly had arrived, to make me more moody than usual.

I rang up Matthew and cried down the phone to him for ages. He was so sweet, and even offered his home so that I could stay near school. I was sorely tempted, but knew that I only had two weeks left now.

The thought made me cry even more, and I had now reached the stage that I almost did not want to return to being Rob. I was Sophie. I loved being her, as the thought of having a life all over again was very attractive.

But then I thought of my dear daughter and cried again. I was being selfish, as I had already had one chance, and this was her time. Matthew was clearly at a loss and asked if I wanted him to come over.

“No, but thanks. I’m a moody bitch at the moment, so you’re better off there.”

“I don’t mind, as long as you aren’t angry with me,” he said.

“Oh, you’re a sweetie, no, I’m not angry with you. It’s everything else. One day I may be able to tell you all my troubles and we can laugh about it. But for the moment, I am just exceedingly pissed off.”

We chatted for some time and I felt better, so I told him that he had cheered me up.

“That’s okay, I just love to hear your voice. I love you Sophie.”

“Oh, Matt, I think I love you too.”

“You think?”

“Yes, I’ve never felt this way about a boy before, so I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Okay, I can live with that,” he said, and I heard him chuckle. I loved his laugh.

“I love your laugh,” I said.

“I love everything about you.”

“Not everything,” I said, but he could never understand about which I was referring.

“Okay, maybe not that, but everything else.”

We laughed and I hung up feeling much better.

School was dreary as the end of term loomed, but not having Mrs Hardacre was an added bonus at an otherwise dreary time. The new maths teacher was Miss Stoddart, who was brilliant. For a start, she was only twenty-five and good fun. Maths suddenly took on a new meaning, and my results picked up noticeably.

In fact, the maths results across the school picked up, and Mrs Hardacre resigned. She had been on extended sick leave, for ‘nervous stress’. I did not feel one single pang of guilt when given the news by the headmistress at morning assembly one week from the end of term.

There was the usual Christmas variety concert organised. Everyone was asked to try to put an act together, so Caroline, Jenny and I had been practicing a couple of numbers with choreographed steps. We called ourselves, “Boots”, and we memorised two songs by Steps.

We all bought black mini skirts and long black boots with high heels, and with lacy black tops, we thought we looked pretty good. The school always invited our male counterpart, Dr Challoner’s boys’ school, and together we ran a combined concert for charity.

We rehearsed for ages, but come the night were very nervous. Particularly when we saw the full auditorium, and so many boys in the audience. But we went on, and waited to do our number. We had got our moves just right, so we hoped we could remember all our words.

We stood with our backs to the audience, in darkness, so when the curtain went back, we turned as the spots hit us one at a time. I was the last to turn, and I could see nothing because of the bright light in my eyes.

We were not prepared for the reaction, as when the lights hit us, and the first bars of the first song started, there was a roar from the male members of the audience.

From that moment on, we couldn’t lose, and the euphoria hit us and replaced the nerves. We just went for it, even managing an encore of a third song we had originally selected and later rejected.

The applause went on for ages, so we came off highly euphoric and delighted with our performance, which was probably mediocre, but sufficiently raunchy to appeal to the testosterone laden youths who appreciated sexy girls.

We were watching the next act from the side, when I felt some very familiar arms encircle me from behind.

“Hi Matt,” I said, without turning round.

“You were amazing,” he told me.

“I didn’t realise you were coming.”

“It was a surprise. I’m glad I did.”

“Oh yes, why is that?”

“Because you’re the sexiest girl I have ever seen, and I was so proud of you.”

I kissed him, so he gave me a big cuddle.

“Are you going away for Christmas?” he asked.

“What, with my Dad in hospital?”

“Oh, I keep forgetting, you seem to be able to cope so well, you’re so brave.”

“Brave, be damned, I have no choice. I just have to keep going,” I admitted.

“I’m going down to Devon to stay with my Mum’s parents. I will be back after Christmas. Can we get together then?” he asked.

“Of course, if you want to, that is?” I said, and then realised that if what Sally had said was right, then I was not going to be around. Or, not as Sophie, that is.

“You know I want to. I just wish we were older and I would propose to you.”

“You daft brush, what are you like?” I said, but I was flattered and pleased.

“I love you so much.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, and we were caught in mid-kiss by Mrs Kimble.

“Sophie, wrong time, wrong place. There’s a time and a place for these things. And this isn’t it.”

I went red and grinned, but Matthew went even redder.

Matthew and I stood together and watched the rest of the show, but to be honest we just enjoyed being together.

“So, when are you off down to Devon?” I asked.

“On about the 23^rd, we will be back for New Year. Do you want to do something for New Year?”

“I’d love to. Call me.”

“Sophie, I’ll call you every day.”

“As usual,” I said, and he laughed.

“Matt?”

“What?”

“I dreamed that my Dad came round on Christmas Eve, so pray for us then. It may just be wishful thinking, but I’d love to have him back for Christmas.”

“Sure. Would you like me to come back early?”

“You’d do that?”

“Sophie, I’d do anything for you.”

I smiled, had a quick look round and then kissed him again.

“No, you stay with your family. You never know, next Christmas we may be together.”

“Really? You’d spend Christmas with me?”

“Why not?”

“No reason, I’d really like that.”

“Me too, but hey, next Christmas we may not be going out together.”

“Sophie, there is no way that I would ever let you go.”

“Matt, you are sweet, but don’t get too possessive. You’re my first boyfriend, so who knows, you may be my last too, so keep an open mind.”

He looked rather downcast, so I took his hand.

“Matt, don’t be miserable, if we end up getting married, I would be happy, but I need to live and experience life. You’re my first boy, and no one can ever take that away. If you end up as the final boy too, then that would be okay, but I’m three years younger than you, so you may meet someone else at university or something. I want you to know that I have no hold on you.”

“You have no hold on me, other than what I have chosen to put on myself. You’re my dream girl, and I’m glad to be yours for however long things work out.”

“Dream girl? You soppy sod. Careful, because dreams turn into nightmares.”

“You could never be a nightmare.”

“What about the other week when I was on?”

“Okay, maybe occasionally a bit of a nightmare,” he said, grinning.

The concert ended, so we all took to the stage to take a final curtain, and the three of us in ‘Boots’ got the biggest ovation. As I looked down at the sea of faces, and saw Matthew smiling at me, I felt really torn. So much of me was now Sophie that it was really hard coming to terms with going back to being Rob.

I wondered how Sophie was getting on. As I left the stage and got changed, I tried to think back to that time when things were hazy for me. It was all very dim, and I gave up. I vaguely remembered getting my Colts colours, the play and someone called Anna, whom I met at the Christmas Ball. Sean featured somewhere but I could not remember how or why.

The play.

Try as I could, I could not remember anything about it. Not one line, nothing. I only remembered that I played the part of a girl and her name had been Sophie, and that was it.

I changed into my home clothes, jeans and a pullover, and found my faithful Matthew waiting to give me a lift home. I would miss him. I sat quite quiet on the journey from School to my house, and Matthew seemed loath to break the silence. There were only a few days left of term, and then the holidays were upon us. Not only were we to be separated, but I was possibly going to lose being Sophie forever.

When we arrived, I invited Matthew in. Granny thought he was a ‘very nice boy’, while Grandpa kept winking at me. He joined us in a hot chocolate and some of Granny’s freshly made cake.

“Did you go and see Dad today?” I asked.

“Yes dear. The doctor says that there was a blip this morning.”

“A blip?”

“Yes, apparently his brain wave monitor recorded some activity, so they are hoping that he is beginning to come out of his coma.”

I was excited, and yet in a strange way disappointed. The thought of having Sophie back won through, and I felt contentment for the time I had had, and indeed how I had conducted myself.

I gave Matthew a kiss goodbye, and he drove away.
 

*          *          *
 
The next day saw the three of us from Boots as school heroines. Apparently, so many boys wanted to know who we were, that everyone got fed up. The concert raised a record-breaking  £5,000, and the heads of both schools were delighted.

We managed to struggle through the anti-climactic last few days of a very long term, and then the end was upon us. We had the Carol service as a finale, and afterwards I said a rather emotional goodbye to lots of girls, whom I knew I would never see again in this guise, so it was rather harrowing. I couldn’t allow myself to get too emotional, and had to pretend that everything was normal. It really was very hard.

I arrived home feeling rather subdued. We had a quiet supper, and both grandparents seemed to understand I just wanted to be alone. I lay on my bed, or rather Sophie’s bed, and stared at the ceiling.

I had enjoyed my time, and had no regrets. I hoped I had not mucked up her life for her, and that the experiences I had gone through would be left for her as memories.

I felt very sorry for her, as she had no way of knowing that the time was coming to an end. I hoped she enjoyed being me as much as I enjoyed being her. I felt that I now understood her more than any other father in the world.

I went to sleep, knowing that in four days, things would be back to normal.
 
 
Chapter 10. Sophie's Story
 
 
Anna Martin left me a note every day after the Ball, and we met surreptitiously on three occasions. She was a very nice girl, to whom I felt quite attracted. We were relaxed and got on very well. We laughed at the same things, and just enjoyed each other’s company. On the second meeting, behind the school chapel, we had a sneaky kiss and a cuddle.

I had no qualms about it and found myself aroused. I gave her breast a stroke, and enjoyed the response from her. We became very close and rather tactile. I enjoyed walking with her and holding her hand. I hoped that Dad wouldn’t mind.

We even managed to sit together for the first performance of the senior play, and held hands where no one could see.

“She’s not as good as you,” she said, indicating the leading ‘lady’ in the play.

“Ah, talent such as mine is a rare commodity.”

She giggled, giving my hand a squeeze.

We had one more meeting before the end of term, and it was rather emotional.

A school up in the north of England had lost a senior housemaster in a road accident, and her father had been selected to replace him. Anna was being moved with her family, so had to start at a new school and everything.

“Write to me, Rob,” she pleaded.

“Of course,” I said, fully intending to.

We had a long hug and a kiss, then she left and I never saw her again. The end of term was upon us, so my ‘parents’ arrived and took me home. I arrived back, and was obviously so much more Rob than at half term, Sally treated me as if it had all been a joke.

Sean was a different boy. He spent all his money on the telephone in the main corridor. He spoke to Angela every evening for about half an hour, and was so cheerful that it got up everyone’s nose.

I was packing my stuff when Sean popped his grinning face around the door.

“Hi Rob. Got a mo?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

He sat on my bed and looked at me.

“I just want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me. I think I went a little loopy for a while. Only, after Sophie introduced me to Angela, I realised exactly how much she must have hurt by doing that.”

“Sean, …” I started to say, and he held up a hand.

“I know what you are going to say, but hear me out. I don’t know how or why, but Sophie was a real girl. I think even you know that. She wasn’t the same person as you, and I should know. We have been friends for two years, so I know you, and Sophie wasn’t the same person as you. She was kind and gentle, and she had the most loving heart. I loved her Rob, and I miss her so badly. But I was able to see that I was wrong, and now Angela is almost everything that Sophie was.

“Words can’t express what I feel about what you and Sophie did. One day, I’d like to meet her again.”

“One day, Sean, I guarantee you shall.”

“Thanks, mate. Have a good Christmas.”

“And you.”
 

*          *          *
 
Home was the same as always and we decorated the tree in the hall. I went Christmas shopping with Sally and Mum, and Sally let it slip that they were getting me an Atari games console. I smiled, as this was so archaic that in my time one could buy wristwatches with better memory and games on than this thing.

I got a long phone call from Anna. She was in tears, as they were moving in the New Year. I promised to write, and listened to her tale of woes. She was happy in her school and, although a year behind me, she was not looking forward to changing everything. But her father’s new job meant more money and a bigger house. It also meant that she would be going to the school he taught in, and for free.

I attempted to persuade her that it was a better deal, and almost succeeded. Except she wailed that she didn’t want to move away from me. I had to promise to write again, and call whenever possible.

Finally, she rang off and I was relieved. I was fond of her, but she had fallen very hard for me.
 

*          *          *
 
Christmas Eve arrived, but I wasn’t feeling too good, too many cheese straws and mince pies. So I went to my room after supper and lay on my bed reading. I must have dozed off.
 
*          *          *
 
I awoke and felt completely disoriented. I found myself sitting beside the bed on a chair. My arms were folded in front of me with my head was resting on them. For a moment, I thought that somehow I had put on my costume for Sophie. And then it dawned on me that I was in a hospital.

There was a bleeping monitor, which was making all kinds of strange noises.

Dad was in the bed, with one hand was on his forehead.

He turned his head and looked at me.

“Hi Sophie, welcome back. Sally delivered your letter,” he said, grinning weakly.

“Dad! Oh Daddy!” I shouted and flung my arms around him.

Nurses and Doctors came running in, but I refused to let go of him.

I held onto his hand, and he was holding me just as tight.

The doctor examined him and shook his head in disbelief. The nurses were crying, as was I, and there was a real hullabaloo.

I suddenly received a flood of memories, that I knew weren’t mine, and I stared at him in amazement.

I couldn’t speak, but I went bright red when I realised what had happened between Matthew Kaiser and ‘me’.

And ‘I’ only ended up going to the concert with him.

The senior registrar was called in, and after a thorough examination, he could see no reason why Dad couldn’t go home. I rang up Sally and she whooped in delight and told me that she would be over to pick her brother and niece up. I asked her not to tell the grandparents, as I wanted this to be a real Christmas Eve surprise for them.

Dad had some clothes, as I realised that ‘I’ had brought him in some clothes in the hope that he was going to come round much earlier. This memory business was going to cause some real headaches for both of us. Dad dressed, and then hugged me again. Neither of us could stop grinning. There were nurses loitering, but we were both dying to talk about what had happened.

“Well, Sophie, how’s this for faith?” said the doctor ‘I’ had spoken to early on.

“I knew he’d come back to me,” I said.

“Happy Christmas,” he said, and I burst into tears.

Sally arrived and we had a three-way hug. She looked at me closely.

“I’m me again Aunty Sally. Thanks for keeping the letter.”

“This is so weird. But I am so pleased to have you both back.”

We pushed Dad in a wheelchair to the car, as the hospital didn’t want him collapsing on their premises.

When we finally got to the car and were on way, we were able to speak.

“Dad. What the hell have you done with Matthew?” I said, and he grinned.

“Call him, he loves you,” he said.

“That’s not the point, he loves you, not me.”

“No sweetie, he loves Sophie, so that is and always was you and you alone.”

I opened my mouth, and he said, “And while we are on this subject, what about Sean, and Anna?”

I shut my mouth and went red.

Sally looked at each one of us in turn and shook her head.

“This is too weird,” she said, and we both laughed.

“So, young lady, how did you like the 1970s?” he asked.

“They were okay, but that bloody game, it ought to be banned.”

“You got me my colours, if it’s any consolation, I went on to be captain of the firsts in my final year.”

I grinned, feeling genuinely pleased and proud of myself.

“And so you should,” he said, and I realised that he knew what I was thinking.

“You read my mind,” I said.

“No, it’s just that for four months it was my mind, so I feel I know you far better than a father normally knows a daughter. And by the way, I got rid of Mrs Hardacre.”

I searched my memories and started to smile, particularly when I realised exactly what ‘I’ had said.

“Dad. How could you?”

“I didn’t, you did,” he said, with that evil grin of his.

I sat back, letting the memories come flooding through, and I was shocked, horrified, embarrassed, pleased, flattered and overjoyed. But most of all I was proud of how my Dad had coped, and what he had achieved.

Sally pulled the car to a halt outside the house. We got out, and I cried as I looked at the house again. I admitted that I thought I might never see it again, as Sophie at any rate.

“It’s been a long time,” I said.

“Yes, Sophie, it has. Before we go in, come here,” Dad said.

I went over and he just held me, as we both cried.

We cried in relief, joy, pride and happiness. We were where we both belonged and I loved him so much.

Sally went in, to find the Grandparents sitting watching TV with Steven. Dad and I walked in after Sally.

“Hello everyone,” he said quietly.

Granny, who was nodding off, shook her head and blinked vacantly several times. Steven took one look and was immediately in his father’s outstretched arms.

Grandpa surprised me by bursting into tears.

“My Boy. Robert. My God, what a miracle!” he said, and immediately joined us, to be followed by a weeping Granny.

Joy was present in our household that night, and we watched as Dad tucked away a huge plate of ham and eggs.

At midnight, I went up to bed, to find my room exactly how I had left it. Except for a photograph of Matthew with “To Sophie, with all my love, Matt XXXX” written thereon. It had been taken at the Justin Timberlake concert, and I remembered it as if I had been there.

I was just in bed when my Dad came in.

“Steven is asleep,” he said.

“Oh Dad, what an adventure. Did you know when it was going to end?”

“Not for ages, but then when Sally gave me the letter, she told me that I behaved very oddly on Christmas Eve. Apparently, I went up and had a nap and came down at about ten and hugged everyone. I guessed that it was then. So I had to be in the hospital when it happened, then I knew we would be together.”

“I missed you so much,” I admitted.

“Me too, sweetheart. I have to confess that I became you, and would have quite liked to have continued being you for as long as I could. But this is for the best. You have your life to lead, as I’ve already had my chance.”

“Dad?”

“What, sweetie?”

“What happened to Anna?”

He shrugged.

“Could you find out?” I asked.

“I don’t know, I suppose so. There might be something on the internet.”

“Did you write to her?”’

“For about three years, then we just lost touch.”

“Ring her tomorrow.”

“I don’t know her name, or her number.”

“Dad. I feel this is important.”

“Okay, I’ll see,” he said, and I immediately knew that expression.

“Dad.”

“Okay, I’ll try hard.”

“Good. Shit Dad, you sneaked my first kiss.”

“Well, you kissed my best friend, and Anna and the other girl who I would rather forget.”

I giggled.

“Quits?”

“Quits.”

“Oh Daddy, you have no idea how good it is to be home.”

“I do, sweetie, I do.”

“I don’t suppose we’ve bought any Christmas presents?” I said.

“I think we have the best Christmas present that we could have ever wanted.”

We just hugged each other for a long time. It was okay being Rob, but this was better.
 

*          *          *
 
I woke up late on Christmas morning. Steven was already up and opening the stocking that his grandparents had produced. They even gave me one, and it had all sorts of goodies in it. I hugged them, I preferred them as Grandparents, and could hardly recognise Grandpa as the strict father of the 1970s.

Dad was already up and in his study. I went in and gave him a hug.

“Morning my sweetie,” he said, “Happy Christmas.”

“Morning Daddy, Happy Christmas.”

He was looking at the screen, it was the web site of the school to which Anna Martin’s father had gone, and to which Anna attended up to leaving at eighteen. He had found her details.

She had gone to St. Andrews University in Fife, and then gone on to become a teacher. She had met and married another teacher called Edward Lumley, and they had a daughter. They settled in Perthshire, both teaching at the same private school. Edward died in a car crash three years ago, and she had not remarried.

I dialled 118500, and asked for Anna Lumley’s number in Perthshire.

The operator asked if I wanted to be put through, and I said yes. I then wrote down the number, and handed the phone to Dad.

He looked horrified and scared, so I laughed. He took the phone and held it to his ear.

“Hello, Anna. Look, you probably won’t remember me, and I apologise ..”

“Yes, that’s right, I’m Rob.….”

“How did you know? … Oh, the papers, I didn’t realise.”

“No, I’m fine now, I came round last night.”

“Yes, you are the first person I called.”

“That’s right, she died of cancer four years ago.”

“No, no one, you?”

“Look, this is a long shot, but do you fancy meeting up for New Year?”

“You do? Wonderful, how about coming here. There is room and I’m sure your daughter and mine will get on.”

“Sophie is nearly sixteen, how about your daughter?”

“Another Sophie. Amazing.”

“From the play too, yes, that is why I called her Sophie as well.”

“I have another, a son, Steven, he’s ten.”

“Anytime you like, if you fly down, I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“Twenty seventh? No, that will be fine. I’d love to have both of you for as long as you want.”

“No, I never forgot you either.”

“Look forward to it, I’ll see you then.”

“Goodbye.”

He gave me the phone and looked bemused.

“She told me that she’d read about me in the papers and prayed for me every night. I never realised that it hit the nationals,” he said.

“So, she’s coming?” I asked.

“Yes, she and her daughter are both coming. She called her Sophie too, after the play.”

“How old is she?”

“Thirteen in March.”

Dad was looking rather shocked.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m confused, why do I feel so excited?”

“I don’t think either of you ever stopped loving the other. You just lost each other.”

“But you met her first,” he said.

“Maybe, but your memory retained it and carried on where I left off.”

We sat together, talking through some of the amazing experiences we had been through. I felt as though we had grown so close that we were almost one person.

“Ring Matthew and wish him a happy Christmas, and see if he liked his present.”

“What? Oh Daddy, you didn’t?”

Daddy ignored me as he dialled Matt’s mobile, he had it memorised, so we both smiled.

When he handed me the phone, I was shaking.

“Hi Matt, it’s Sophie.”

“I know, Happy Christmas. And thanks for the chain and medallion. I have it on. I’ll never take it off,” he said. I went all goosebumpish at the sound of his voice.

“I’m pleased you like it.”

“Have you opened my present yet?”

“What present?”

“I put it under your tree.”

I stood up, and went to the tree in the living room.

I found a very small parcel on one of the lower branches.

It had, ‘To Sophie from her bloke’, written on a tiny label.

“Hi Bloke,” I said, and I heard him chuckle.

I opened it with some difficulty, as I tried to balance the phone at the same time.

“Have you shares in Sellotape or something?” I asked, and finally opened it. It was a small box, and inside was a pretty ring with a pair of sapphires set in the gold.

“It’s beautiful.” I said.

“The blue are your eyes, and the gold is your hair.”

“Soppy sod,” I said, as tears fell from my eyes.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” I lied and then spoiled it by sniffing.

“You are. Who’s the soppy one?”

“Me,” I said, blowing my nose on the tissue Daddy handed me.

“Sophie, I miss you so much.”

“Me too. When are you coming back?”

“On about the twenty-seventh. Will you be staying at home?”

“Yes. Oh, and guess what, my Dad came round yesterday, and he is home now.”

“That’s great, I suppose you will want to be with him?”

“We’re having a party on New Years Eve, he has an old girlfriend coming, and I thought I’d invite some friends, so see if any of your friends can come, say about five or six.”

“Cool, okay. But what about the twenty-seventh?”

“Just come round, Dad won’t mind you being here, bring a sleeping bag and just doss down wherever there is a corner, for as long as you want.”

“Your Dad won’t mind?”

I looked at Daddy, and he smiled.

“My Dad is the best Dad in the world. He is so cool; he is out of this world.”

“Okay, I’ll be there on the twenty-seventh.”

“I can’t wait,” I said, and found that I meant it.

“I love you Sophie.”

“Yeah I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Tart.”

“I know, but I love you too.”

“You do?”

“No, I just say that to all the boys. Of course I do. Twat.”

He laughed, and the sound filled me with expectation and joy.

“Does the ring fit?”

I slipped it onto my right ring finger.

“Yes, on the right hand. I’ll wait a few years and then you can buy me one for the left.”

“Done.”

“See you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I turned and looked at my Dad, and he smiled at me.

“Thanks Dad, you did good.”

He nodded. “So did you, Sophie, so did you.”

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To Be Continued...