He walked into the parlour and said, "What do you think?"

Shelagh turned from the range and was just able to stop herself screaming. There's a man in my cottage! Then her brain caught up with her senses. Of course there is, silly. The porridge spoon had clattered onto the range, and she picked it up and put it back into the pot. She looked at Colin, still shocked. He took one look at her startled face and took a step back.

---

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2009 Penny Lane. All rights reserved. Certain products or services may be mentioned as part of the story. As this is a work of fiction, neither endorsement nor criticism should be implied from any such mention of any products or services.

*****

December 13th

Colin awoke, still slightly disoriented by wakening in a different bed. He was in a now familiar posture, though, flat on his back with Shelagh tucked under his left arm, her own left arm and part of her body draped across his chest, their legs in a seeming random tangle. It was still raining, but the sound was that of light drizzle, more accurately the sound of water dripping from the edge of the roof.

His movements roused her, and she lazily leaned over his head for a morning kiss. As usual, he let her go first in the bathroom, and by the time he had finished his turn she was pouring oats into a pot on the range. He went to stand by the big window, and saw that the landscape had changed, areas of raw rock showing between the remains of the drifts. The loch beyond looked larger and dangerous in the low morning light. There was a very light drizzle still falling, although the lighter sky in the west gave a hint of a possible drier afternoon.

Breakfast eaten and cleared away, Colin went back to the bathroom and removed the bandages which still wrapped his lower legs each night. After washing them, Shelagh came and inspected them, pronouncing them dry and blister-free.

"You can wear your tights today," she said, "which also means you can go back to wearing longer skirts. I think you can try the other of those we found, the grey one. Do you feel up to doing some housework later? I've got to get some bread ready for baking, I should have done it yesterday, but I got, ah, distracted, so your help would be most welcome."

"I'll see what I can do. Parts of my hands and legs are still sore, so I'll have to try things to find out how much I can do, but whatever you need, I'm game."

Shelagh lowered her eyelids. "So I've noticed. I've got vacuuming, endless washing, dusting to do, I'm sure I can think of other things, but that should keep you busy for a while. Now, do you want me to shave you today?"

"Yes, please. I know it sounds feeble, but I still think it wouldn't be a good idea for me to do it yet. You don't want to be mopping up blood in here if you can avoid it."

Since the cracked, dried skin on Colin's palms would have caught in the fine material, Shelagh put the tights on Colin's legs for him, with him sitting on the edge of the bed for the first part of the operation. She made sure that he understood how to do it properly, for when he would be doing it for himself. A grey roll-neck jumper, thicker than yesterday's, topped the grey plaid skirt they'd found in the old case. A pair of flat lace-ups completed the ensemble.

"You don't want to be wearing heels while you're doing housework, least ways not till you're used to them," she explained, "You'll probably be bending a lot, and I don't want you to damage your calves or your Achilles tendon, or possibly spraining your ankle. Leave the fun till later."

Shelagh dressed in jumper and jeans, then went out to the back of the cottage to bring in logs, while Colin, pinny applied again, started vacuuming the bedrooms. He was forced to give up fairly quickly as manipulating the heavy hose hurt his hands. Instead, he collected a duster and spent some time cleaning all the surfaces in the main rooms of the cottage. By the time he had finished, in the parlour, Shelagh was busy kneading dough on the big table.

"Sorry about the vacuuming, it was just too painful. I did manage to do my bedroom before I gave up, though."

"Don't worry about it," she said, "It'll come in time. If you don't try these things, you'll never know if you can do them or not. Fancy doing some washing? Give me five minutes, once I've finished doing this I'll show you where everything is and what to do."

Colin nodded. Shelagh obviously had a set way of doing things, and it made sense to see her methods and stick to them. He pulled out a chair and sat at the table. It took her longer than five minutes, but eventually she divided the dough into two, placed them in covered bowls to rise, washed her hands, and led him into the bathroom. She suggested that he start with underwear, since the turnover of that was quite high, and it was easier to deal with than some of the other things waiting to be washed. He knelt on an old folded towel placed on the floor, ran several inches of water into the bath, added detergent, and began.

Once cleaned, he rinsed the items and hung them on lines strung over the bath in order to let them drip. Later, they would be transferred to lines strung over the range to dry properly before being placed on a pile to be ironed. His knees were sore and his back stiff by the time he'd finished. When he re-entered the parlour he found that Shelagh had just made some coffee.

"I hate to admit it, but having my hands in water seems to be helping them to heal," he remarked as he sat down.

Shelagh considered, then said, "That's something I'd not thought of, but you must be careful not to overdo it. Too much damp can leave you open to fungal infections, remember, you've still got broken skin in a number of places on your hands. Another point is that every time you finish, you're using more moisturiser. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, we'd just get more, but of course we're not in a position to at the moment. So, thanks for the help, but we may have to limit it for the near future."

"Point taken. What else is there for me to do?"

"Not much. Go and relax for a bit. If the weather clears up some more, and you're still game, there's something out the back that needs doing. We'll have a look after lunch."

Lunch came, complicated by the fact they'd run out of bread. Afterwards, Shelagh led Colin to the back door and opened it. The rain had almost stopped, and the sky had lightened somewhat. It was the first time that Colin had clearly seen what was behind the cottage.

The end walls of the cottage continued back, the sections nearest the back of the cottage forming the walls of the outbuildings on either side. These outbuildings had roofs sloping inwards, and the roofs continued down to the end of the enclosed area forming covered 'stalls' on either side. The square yard thus formed was closed off by a wall of the same height running across the end, broken in the middle by a farm gate. In the yard stood two vehicles, both sheeted with tarpaulins, and, despite the rain, both still had caps of snow on top. The stalls on the left, behind the main bedroom, held a generator, a fuel tank and several large wooden crates, the remaining space being crammed with cut wood. The space on the right, on the parlour side, held the privy. Half the remaining space on that side was empty, the rest, nearest the back wall, was stacked with more wood.

"I want to move that wood on the right, so it's right up by the outbuilding door over there," explained Shelagh, "It's a thing I usually do when the stocks run down so far. That means that if, or should I say when, it snows again, I don't end up with a snowdrift between me and the wood. Are you up to it?"

"Moving that wood? I suppose so, but I won't be able to carry much at a time," he replied.

"Don't worry about that, neither will I."

"I'll go and get my gloves, then."

"No, don't wear those, you'll end up with them full of splinters. I've got a pair of old gardening gloves that should be large enough for you to wear. And you'll need something a bit more protective on your feet, perhaps you should try those ankle boots on."

"How warm is it? Do I need a coat, or something?" he asked.

"From experience, you should keep warm enough shifting logs. But I think I'll look out a scarf for you to wear, and a hat, I think. We shall be under cover, but there's still the odd drop of rain falling. Let's go in then and get changed, I want to shift those logs before it gets too dark."

So, with Colin wearing boots, gardening gloves, a scarf, and the red cloche hat, and Shelagh wearing her walking boots, a pair of old leather gloves, a scarf and a knitted beret, they started on the wood pile. At first he found it chilly, but after walking backwards and forwards for a while he soon warmed up. Wearing the boots was interesting, they had the highest heels he had tried so far, but the boot construction supported his ankles and made sure they didn't twist. He realised that he'd have to be careful not to get dust and debris from the logs on his clothes, so he resisted the temptation to pile logs up with one hand onto the other arm, and just carried a log in each hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies. Hope we aren't disturbing you."

The unexpected voice made them both jump. Crap. What do I do now? Fortunately for Colin, he was just about to place two logs on the new pile, so his face was turned away from the gate. Think, quick! What would a woman do? Turn around and smile, that's what. He suited actions to thoughts, but stayed where he was. Shelagh got over her shock at the interruption and put down the two logs she had been holding, walking quickly over to the gate. A man and a woman stood there, both probably in their thirties, dressed in walking gear, with medium-sized packs on their backs.

"Hello, there," Shelagh said, "Is there something we can do for you? Are you lost, perhaps?" Shelagh had had past experience of occasional people getting lost and hammering on the cottage door.

"We were expecting to end up at this village here," the man explained, pointing to a smudge on the map he held up, "We seem to have got our bearings slightly wrong. Can you direct us?"

"Oh, you're going to Saobhaidhe," Shelagh replied, "That's it, down there." She leaned over the gate and waved in the direction of the loch. The first few lights in the village were just visible. "It's an easy mistake to make, there's been a few people come here who've missed the path."

"Can we walk there along the lake-side?" asked the woman, pointing.

"Oh, no," Shelagh replied, "It's too dangerous." The woman looked at Shelagh sceptically. "It's true, it's too dangerous even for the locals to try, because of the loose scree. You're here, see? You'll have to go back, round the mountain, the path takes you through this valley here," Shelagh showed them on the map, "and that'll bring you to the top end of Saobhaidhe."

"Well, thank you for your help," the man replied, "Goodbye, and goodbye to you," he said, looking at Colin, who hadn't moved, but just stood looking at the group. Colin gave another small smile and a cursory wave. The two walkers went back the way they'd come, over the saddle which rose behind the cottage.

"How do you feel?" Colin asked Shelagh as she came back towards him. "Feeling twitchy?"

"No, not a thing," she replied, "but mostly one man on his own, or indeed with a woman, is okay. Was okay, I should say. Now her, that's a different matter. I didn't like her at all."

"I know exactly what you mean. There was definitely something about her that seemed unpleasant. What do you think they were doing out here anyway? Isn't it too dangerous for walkers at the moment?"

She shook her head, contempt on her face. "There's always someone stupid enough to be wandering around these parts, whatever the weather. It usually ends with the mountain rescue bringing them, or occasionally their bodies, down from the mountains. Actually, those two looked competent enough, but I wouldn't have thought the conditions were good enough yet for anyone to be roaming around. But what about you? It's your first outing in public. How did you feel?"

"Not a lot, actually," he replied, "I was shocked when the man spoke, I wasn't expecting it. But afterwards, while you were showing them the route on the map, I just felt, well, normal."

"And so you should! You look, and act, just like you purport to be, a woman of about my age. We might have been sisters, they're not to know."

They finished moving the logs just as the sky began to darken, and what heat there had been in the air began to drain away. They went in, and Shelagh immediately kicked her boots off and went to put the kettle on, whilst Colin picked at the laces on his own boots, happy to get them off. While he had not found them uncomfortable, it would take time to adjust to them as with any new footwear.

"Ow," complained Colin, as he joined Shelagh in the parlour, "My legs ache. As does my back, my shoulders, my arms and my neck."

"I'm not really surprised. You've spent a fortnight doing virtually no physical work at all, you can't expect to get fit again in an instant. Give it a week or two of light activity, and you'll be fine."

"Those cars in the yard. Both yours?"

"Oh. Yes," Shelagh replied, "The one on the right is an old Land Rover I inherited along with the cottage. It dates back to 1956, or thereabouts, a real classic but there's nothing wrong with it. My grandfather, old Robbie Fraser, bought it second-hand in the early sixties. The other one is a Honda CR-V I inherited from my mother. I tend to use the Landy for everything local, there's nowhere it can't go, it's so basic it just doesn't go wrong, and it's easy to mend when it does. However, it's got no creature comforts at all, no radio or heater, and it's extremely draughty, so I was persuaded to have the Honda for times when I have to go a bit farther. I have been as far as Aberdeen in the Landy, but unless it's high summer it's no fun at all."

"The cottage is more substantial than I realised, too."

"Yes, it was just a small croft until the Second World War, then the military took it over for some purpose, I don't know what, and built the yard out back. After the war it was used for a few years for keeping sheep, but the foraging isn't really good enough round here, so it went back to being a summer home."

"You get people wandering around the cottage often?" Colin asked. "I assumed there would be some privacy way out here, but it seems not."

"I usually don't see people from one month to the next," she said, "but you often get periods during the summer when people walk through. That's the reason I keep all the doors locked and I draw the curtains at night. I've never had any trouble here, though. I hope it stays that way." She handed him a mug.

Colin took his mug and went and sat on the settee, soon dozing off as a result of the afternoon's exercise. When he eventually woke again the smell of fresh bread was in the air, and dinner was being prepared. The rain, which had never entirely stopped, had returned again and was making a dull roar on the roof.

Over dinner, Colin remarked, "It's quite interesting observing you at the moment."

Shelagh paused, a forkful of food in mid-air. "Oh, yes? What prompted this?"

"I'm seeing a radically different side of you now, compared to how it was when I arrived," he explained, "It's almost as though you'd changed into a totally different person. Sort of like Nurse Jekyll into Ms. Hyde, although I hope not quite so lethally."

"And why not? You're the person who triggered that change, for which I shall be eternally grateful. I think on balance I would prefer to be just Nurse Hyde, and consign the Jekyll part to history, but I know that's going to take a good long while. And look who's talking! I'm sitting here in front of a man wearing a bra and skirt with all the trimmings."

Colin blushed. "Yes, I'd forgotten that. I've got so used to being dressed like this it doesn't seem strange any more. I guess I've as little idea of what's happening to me than you have of what's happening to you. We make a fine couple, don't we? Crazy man and crazy woman, or crazy woman and crazy person."

She looked at him speculatively while she chewed. "Speaking of 'all the trimmings' how are you getting on with those tights?"

"Quite well, actually, although I've been getting warm in parts I'm not accustomed to, and obviously my lower legs are a bit cooler than I'm used to. But compared to what it has been like the last couple of days, since I stopped wearing the bandages, I'm quite comfortable with the result. In fact, I'm quite surprised at just how warm this sort of clothing can be, considering it feels like I'm wearing next to nothing most of the time. The extra sense of freedom I'm feeling, well, that's a bonus."

She nodded. "On the rare occasion that I've had to wear mostly men's clothing, for moving house, decorating, that kind of thing, I've been surprised how bulky it's been while still not keeping one particularly warm. A lot of it was quite rough and scratchy as well, as I recall. Of course, women's clothing in the main isn't designed for heavy manual work, and most women don't do that kind of work."

Colin grinned. "I can't believe I just heard a feminist say that."

"I just spoke the truth," Shelagh bristled, "I didn't say that's how things should be, only that's how things actually are. On second thoughts, though, there are a lot of male jobs most women would probably keep well clear of. I do realise that there are physical differences between the genders, though, and some outdoor jobs just wouldn't suit women just as some other jobs wouldn't suit men."

The discussion continued through dinner, washing up and into the evening. When they retired for the night, however, the talking stopped.

*****

December 14th

When Shelagh awoke it was to discover that she was alone in the bed. It was just daylight, and, as the previous day, the rain had slackened right off. As she lay there wondering what was happening, Colin appeared with a cup of tea in each hand.

"Good morning! I thought I'd treat you to a lie-in. I have no idea what day of the week it is, as if that matters anyway, but I thought it was time I ran round after you for a bit. Here you are."

Shelagh sat up and took the proffered cup. Colin gently eased into his side of the bed, carefully holding his own cup to avoid spilling the contents.

"That's very kind of you," Shelagh said, after taking a sip. "I'd forgotten what it was like to have room service."

"Ah, don't expect this every morning," he said, "but I could make it an occasional habit. The range has had new logs in it, so once we've drunk our tea, we can get right on to breakfast."

"I thought there was an ulterior motive. You're hungry."

"Not at all! Well, I suppose, now you mention it, I could be. I'm quite capable of making porridge by myself, though. Anything else will take a little longer." Colin held up his gloved hands.

Shelagh put her cup down. "I can think of certain things you can do with your hands, whether they're gloved or not," she said, lowering her eyes.

"Do you need a demonstration?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she murmured, lying back down, "I've almost forgotten exactly what those certain things were. I think I need a refresher course."

The tea in their mugs grew cold as they made love another time. Breakfast was late.

After breakfast, Colin washed his legs in the bathroom and was shaved by Shelagh. She inspected his legs, and decided that the scar tissue had healed enough that Colin could now treat his legs in the same way as the rest of his body, that is, just wash them when he bathed.

He asked Shelagh to wash his hair, and when she had finished, she remarked, "You could do with a bit of a trim. It's easier when the hair's wet. Would you like me to have a go now for you?"

"I suppose so. What do you want to do with it? Do you want to put it in a female style?"

Shelagh considered. "I was just talking about tidying the back up, really, but it would make more sense, given the present circumstances. I can show you one or two different ways of doing it, if you like. It's still too short to do much with, though. You'd have to let it grow out for a month or two to give you a much larger choice of styles. That might suit your facial shape better."

"You can have a go. I'd be interested to see what you can do with my hair. It's not as if it'll be a permanent change, will it? If I don't like it, we can try something else. We must remember, though, a day will come when I'll have to leave, and I'll have to look like a reasonable facsimile of a male at that point. So try not to do anything that can't be undone in a hurry, or at least disguised."

"A day will come when I'll have to leave." Shelagh had been dreading those words, and her heart plummeted. Intellectually, she'd known that he couldn't stay forever, but she'd been avoiding even thinking about the idea and it's possible consequences. She'd been hoping that he might find reasons for staying, all the time understanding that he had his own life to live, and that this was just an interlude, interesting and exciting though it may have been. At least I've got him till the new year. A lot can happen between now and then, but I can't force him to stay if he doesn't want to stay. I wouldn't do that to him.

Colin had caught sight of Shelagh's face in the bathroom mirror.

"Shelagh? What's the matter?" He turned to face her.

"I don't know if I can bear to part with you," she said. "I won't stand in your way, but what will happen to me?"

"Nobody is planning to leave for a good while yet," he replied, holding her hand. "I wouldn't worry about something that's at least three weeks away, anyway. I think you'll find everything will work itself out the right way, in time. We've got Christmas to look forward to before then. Now, are you going to do something with this hair?"

Shelagh nodded, and went to fetch her comb, brush and scissors. She combed it all out from a point just behind where the hair had been singed off, so that it formed a semi-circle. In front of this she combed it forward to make a fringe. "That'll be better when the front part grows some more, but it will do for a start." The back and sides she trimmed evenly all the way round, shaping it high like a bob, and removing wisps which spread down the nape of his neck. Then she brushed it gently to give it some volume.

"If we had mains power, I'd get out my hair-dryer, but what I've done will probably dry in the right places. That's made you look quite different, again. One of the fun things about being female is changing your hair all the time. You can experiment with different looks, perhaps try different styles to go with different outfits, or at different times of day. Try leaving it like that, today. I'll have to brush it a bit as it dries, but you will be able to see what it looks like by lunchtime, I expect."

Since it wasn't easy to pull jumpers over his damp hair, he chose to wear the long-sleeved white blouse, and Shelagh suggested putting a navy blue tank-top over it for a bit more warmth. She also suggested that he try on a pair of her jeans, if only to prove a point. It turned out that he could only just squeeze his feet through the bottoms of the legs, and then the crutch was so low it made doing up the waist impossible, and moving about just marginally less so. He ended up wearing the Fraser tartan skirt over his tights, and decided to try a pair of black t-bar shoes with a two inch heel. The person who looked back at Colin from the bedroom mirror was unrecognisable. Even Shelagh was impressed by the transformation.

Colin spent the morning washing, under Shelagh's supervision, while she vacuumed and then prepared the evening meal, which would spend the afternoon slow cooking. By lunch time, they were both ready for a break, and readily sat down at the table for their soup and bread. The rain had stopped, and although the sky was still grey, it looked like the afternoon would be drier. Large areas of ground were now visible between the dissolving mounds of snow. The loch was huge, at least twice it's normal width, and the burn, seen from the window over the range, had turned into an angry brown torrent, many times it's normal volume.

"Do you fancy a small trip out, this afternoon?" Shelagh asked.

"How far?" Colin asked, cautiously. He was still not convinced that he could carry off any deception that was required, and he didn't want to go too far just yet.

"Just as far as your car," she replied, "The pole I put on it has fallen over now the snow's gone, and I think it could do with lashing upright. Besides, you ought to come and inspect the damage, see if anything useful has survived."

"A good idea. But why do you want to put the pole back up? People coming along the track can see the wreckage clearly, now, can't they?"

"You don't imagine there'll be no more snow this winter?" she asked. "It's not even Christmas, yet. I wouldn't be surprised if we don't have two, maybe three, more sessions of lying snow followed by rain before spring sets in. More if it's an unusual winter, which we seem to be having more of lately. That car will get buried just as before. I shouldn't think it's likely to get recovered before April, at the earliest, so it'll remain an obstruction for a good few months."

By the time they had finished lunch, Colin's hair was completely dry. He couldn't get over the change in his appearance, and how different his hair felt as he moved his head. He wondered what it would be like to have hair as long as Shelagh's, which reached about to the bottom of her shoulder blades, although he recognised that having hair that long would restrict what he could do with it.

Shelagh suggested that he wore the boots he had put on the previous day, and gave him the same hat and scarf to wear that he had worn the previous day. She lent him a winter coat to wear, one she usually wore to go to town, while she wore the outdoor jacket she usually wore while fetching logs from the yard. His coat was dark green, military-style, knee length, and fastened with two columns of three buttons from neck to waist. It was a little tight in the shoulders, but by keeping his shoulder blades pushed together he found he could fit it snugly. He found it strange that his torso should be so warmly wrapped up while his legs were still only protected by tights, but apart from a draught depending how he stood, he decided he didn't feel uncomfortable. She had also found him an old pair of sheepskin mittens which had stretched enough for him to wear.

Shelagh collected a length of old rope from a corner of the yard, and locked up the cottage once they had gone out the front door.

"I don't want any trouble back here while we're distracted over there," she explained, pointing to the car, the front end of which was just visible at the bottom of the crag. "It's funny," she added, "if you had stopped maybe ten feet further back up the track, behind the crag, I would never have come out to investigate, at least not until it was far too late. You've been extremely lucky."

"If you can call getting your legs and hands burnt 'being lucky', then I agree with you," Colin replied, disconcerted by the gentle breeze blowing up the back of his legs as they walked towards the wreckage. "It's strange, if anything at all had happened even slightly differently, we wouldn't be here together, walking like this towards what's left of my car. I'd either be gone or dead, and you'd be, what? Well on the way to being certified, possibly."

"Yes," she said, warmly, putting her arm through his, "I'm upset you had to get hurt, but I'm not upset about what happened afterwards. It was the one thing I needed to dig myself out of my self-inflicted pit." She pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek.

When they reached the wreck, it was obvious what had happened. Several rocks, from a yard in diameter to half that size, had fallen from the crag, and Colin's car had run onto a smaller one, then smashed into the biggest, all invisible in the snow. The heat of the fire had discoloured and split the largest rock and crumbled others. The entire vehicle was just a shell of bright orange rusted metal, practically all the other materials having been burnt or melted. The rear of the car was split and twisted where the tank had blown. Only a tiny area of the tyres remained unburnt, where they had been in direct contact with the frozen ground. It was obvious at a glance that there was nothing that could be salvaged.

Shelagh tied the end of her rope to the window frame of the still-open driver's door, ran the rope round the door pillar and hauled on the end till the mangled door was nearly shut, then tied off the rope round both door and pillar. Picking up the pole, she asked Colin to hold it up as she used the excess rope to lash it upright to the door pillar.

"There! That's a job well done," she said. "Don't think you're going to find anything useful here."

"No," he replied, "I'd already resigned myself to that. No laptop, camera, chargers, clothes, shaver, anything. Oh, and a whole load of paperwork, including your contract, another one I got signed in Stornoway, and several proof copies of books. Thank goodness I wasn't carrying any manuscripts, I'd never have heard the end of it."

"It's not so bad these days, surely? Everyone has backups on their computers, don't they?"

"Yes and no. You still get the odd one who insists on doing it in pencil. And I know of a couple of authors who print them out, annotate them, then send the hard copy off. You can be a funny lot, sometimes."

"I suppose I deserve that," she commented, "but I think personally I've been quite reasonable. For an author, that is."

They stood admiring the scenery for a while. The roar of the swollen burn had made them raise their voices, so little was said as they took in the view. Then Colin had a thought.

"Where does your water come from? Not the burn, surely?"

"Oh, no, there's a borehole back up the hill behind the cottage," Shelagh replied, "That's the only way I can ensure the water's clean. You can see the burn's full of run-off from the moor, you can't use any of that without putting it through a filter plant. But there was a small spring up the back, so they just piped that and tapped off it. Oh, no."

The last two words were uttered when Shelagh caught sight of a lorry heading towards them along the track, the noise of it's approach drowned by the roar of the burn. She stood stock still as the strange vehicle neared and then stopped right beside them.

It was an odd-looking thing, with an immense ground clearance that Colin could almost see right under without bending, and was obviously all-wheel drive, with four huge, muddy, all-terrain tyres. The bed of the truck contained two power poles lashed down, plus a number of equipment boxes. The window nearest them wound down, and a man poked his head out.

"Would one of you two ladies be the owner of yonder cottage, by any chance? We've come to check your power line."

Colin had done his 'friendly woman' smile to the lorry man, but turned to Shelagh when she failed to speak. She had frozen completely.

"She is," he said, keeping his voice light. "You surprised us."

"Aye, the sound of yon burn is a bit deafening," the man said. "What happened here? An accident?"

Shelagh managed to find her voice, realising that if Colin said too much, he might give himself away.

"Hello," she forced out, "Yes, there was, a while back. At night, in the snow." As she spoke, she recovered her composure.

"Anyone hurt? Looks like a mess."

"He got out all right, if that's what you mean. Do you want to drive down, and we'll follow you. I expect you'll want to test the panel inside, you usually do before the power's restored."

"Aye. We'll wait for you down there." The window was wound up, and the lorry made it's way to the front of the cottage and parked. Two men climbed out. One climbed up onto the bed of the vehicle, the other stood waiting as Colin and Shelagh joined them.

"Jimmy here will go up the pole and check the transformer," the man explained, gesturing to his mate on the back of the truck. "I'll do the inside work. If you'll lead the way?"

Shelagh unlocked the front door of the cottage, but hesitated before entering.

"Could I see some ID, please? I don't doubt that you're who you say you are, but out here in the wilds it's best to make sure."

The man was surprised, but dug in a pocket and pulled out a plastic-coated card. Satisfied, Shelagh led the way in, saying to Colin, "Lynne, why don't you go and wait in the parlour? This won't take long, and there's not really enough room for all of us out the back at once."

"You sure?" Colin asked, meaning, you're sure you're happy being alone with this man?

"Yes, I'll be fine. It was just a bit unexpected, that's all."

She led the man along to the main bedroom, and out into the outbuilding behind where the electrical gear was located. Some tests, a conversation on a walkie-talkie to the man up the pole where the local transformer was installed, followed by a call on a satellite phone, and the test meter suddenly gave a reading. The man reset some circuit breakers, and the cottage had mains power once again. Shelagh led the way out.

"Is that all you've to do here?" she asked, "Can I make you and your mate a drink?"

"Thank you, no," the man replied, "We've two other outlying properties to do today, so we'd best be going before the light fades too much."

"Before you go, can you tell me if the road's in a usable state?"

"The part we travelled on, some is, some isn't. We came across the moor part of the way, following the poles as best as we could, so I couldn't say about the far end. What's your vehicle?"

"Land Rover."

"Ah, well, there were two flooded sections we came through, up on the moor. You could probably get through one, but you'd do best to wait a few days to let the water level go down before going all the way."

"Well, thank you again for restoring our power."

"That's what we're here for. Goodbye, ma'am. And goodbye to your friend, too."

The lorry drove away, and Shelagh shut the front door. Colin was standing just inside the hall.

"Are you all right? It was a bit of a shock to find that lorry just a few yards away, I must admit," he asked.

"Yes, I think so. As you say, it was a bit unexpected, that's what did it."

"Are you sure? I think you'd better come and sit down. I'll put the kettle on."

"Yes, okay, I think I will. But first, don't you think we'd better take our coats off?"

The first thing that Shelagh did, though, was to throw a pile of dirty sheets in the washing machine, the weather now being warm enough that the pipes were no longer frozen. By the time she had finished, Colin had made tea, and they sat at the big table drinking it and going over the incident.

"I must say, I might have frozen up, but I thought you handled yourself really well out there," she said. "You appeared to act quite naturally. I don't think they had any inkling you were not what you appeared to be."

"You might be right," he admitted, "but it's still all an act. I'd have to do it for a while yet before it becomes second nature." Do I want it to become second nature? "I didn't actually say that much, anyway."

"You do it all almost perfectly now. I'd say it has become second nature. The only thing you really have to think about is your voice, even that doesn't need much work, I think you're almost there."

Colin thought, then made sheep eyes, put a blank but expectant expression on his face, raised the tone of his voice, and said, "Hello! I'm Lynne and I'm staying in the cottage with my cousin Shelagh! How's that?"

Shelagh sprayed tea all over the table. "Oh, no! You wicked man, now look what you made me do!"

She hopped up from the table and looked for a cloth to mop the table with.

"Did I get any on you?"

"No, fortunately I just moved in time. Sorry, I shouldn't have done that while you were drinking."

"Serves me right. You don't need to do that! Although, I knew girls who looked and sounded just that dumb, which I know you're not. If you just lighten your tone a little, and speak a bit more softly so your voice doesn't grate, I think you'll have it. I think I need to coach you till you get it right."

"Okay," Colin said, "...cousin."

After dinner, Shelagh had a thought, and disappeared into the outbuilding behind the main bedroom, appearing some time later with several heavy books. She sat down and started looking through them. Colin watched her idly, his main attention being on the music playing from the small hifi unit.

"Ah, here it is," she said, finding an entry in a large book. She read it, and referred to several other related entries before handing the book to Colin.

"This is one of my student nursing textbooks from college," she explained. "It occurred to me that you might be in there somewhere."

Colin's first thought was that she'd found an entry relating to burns, but the entry read: Transvestite. Interested, he read the entry, then turned to read see also: Cross Dressing, and see also: Trans-Sexual. On reading the latter, he hurriedly clamped his legs together and shut the book.

"Eew! No thanks, I don't think I'll be going down that route any time soon. That looks a little... drastic."

"What on earth are you talking about?" asked Shelagh, who had no idea what had repelled Colin.

"The Trans-Sexual stuff. I don't think I'll be ready for surgery any time this side of Hell freezing over." He sighed. "On the other hand, if you'd told me a month ago I'd be sitting as I am now I'd probably have hit you. How one's ideas change! It just goes to show that you never can tell what the future has in store for you, and it's better not to prejudge what might happen." He pointed a finger at Shelagh. "That goes for you, too! Try not to upset yourself over things that might never happen."

"You're right, of course," she replied, "but with the kind of history I've had I can't avoid a little speculation about the good or the bad that might happen. Did you find those entries to be helpful at all?"

"Yes, indeed," replied Colin, leafing through the book to find the entry again, "It's helping me to make sense of what's happened to me, although it's a bit dry and obviously written from a strict medical viewpoint. Still, it's a starting point. Is there anything in those other books of yours?"

"I'll have a look. I knew there was something in that one, that's why I looked there first. One of these others is a psychiatric primer, I'm not sure you'll be flattered by anything it might say."

"We'll see. Any information is better than nothing at all, even if it's negative information. Say! Is your phone working yet? We might find out more if we can get to the Internet."

"My phone?" Shelagh realised that she had forgotten all about it. She went to the instrument, on the computer desk, and lifted the receiver. "I've got a dial tone," she said, impressed. "In theory, that means I can get on-line with the computer. Oh God!" she exclaimed, "The last time I got cut off I ended up with hundreds of emails to plough through. If I get on now, it'll take me hours to download them and sort through them."

"Leave it for now," Colin said, "we have plenty of time for that, and morning's probably a better time of day for hammering the Internet anyway. Let's just relax for now."

"Relax? You've just reminded me that I've sheets in the washer. I'll go and check them while you read those books."

The sheets couldn't be ironed straight from the tumble-dry cycle, so Shelagh hung them over the bath to air, then she came and discussed the most recent findings with Colin. He discovered that he was relieved by the information given, relieved to find that he wasn't a total freak, but shared his new interest with a larger portion of the male population than he would have believed possible. He retired with Shelagh for the night with a renewed sense of optimism, and he hoped that she did too.

*****

December 15th-24th

The next ten days passed in a blur of happy domesticity. By day, he was Lynne, Shelagh's friend, sharing the cottage with her as two women might. At night, even though he went to bed wearing a nightdress, he was very definitely Colin, Shelagh's passionate but gentle lover. As two people who have much in common often do, and as those who are attracted to each other often do, they started unconsciously imitating each other's habits and mannerisms, which meant that by Christmas Eve he had completely submerged himself in a feminine persona, at least in the tiny domestic setting of the cottage.

When the weather allowed, which wasn't often, they took short walks, around the crag, down to the loch, up the saddle behind the cottage, seeing no other person the entire time. It rained often, and eventually the snow returned, leaving around a foot of lying snow on the ground before the skies cleared and the temperatures plummeted.

The box labelled 'old clothes' contained exactly that. Unfortunately, the contents were of no use to them. There were two 1940's dresses, plus something in very fragile silk that looked like it might have been 1920s, together with some ancient girdles and two corsets that might have been Edwardian, all of which were far too small for either to wear. Colin suggested that, if any good, they could try to sell the items on eBay or somewhere similar.

Finally, Christmas approached, and a certain anticipation built around the modest celebration they intended to have on the day. Food had been prepared, and they retired to bed on Christmas Eve in a festive mood, ready for the morning.

*****

December 25th

When Colin awoke he was in a position which had become familiar to him, lying on his back, with Shelagh looming over him, her body propped upon his chest by her breasts, a smile upon her face.

"Good morning to you, man," she said softly.

"Good morning to you," he replied, "woman." Her face lit up and she lowered her head for a kiss.

"I hope your Christmas day is a good one," she added, "I'm sorry there's no card or presents, but at least we've a decent meal to look forward to, courtesy of the good doctor."

"No presents?" Colin said, looking disappointed, "but I thought that maybe later on, we could..."

Shelagh lowered her eyelids. "Why wait till later on? I could manage a present right now, how about it?"

"No argument from me. But," he added, "when do we have to put the turkey in?"

Shelagh pouted. "You spoil all the fun. I thought men were all supposed to have one-track minds, it's women who are supposed to be thinking of other things all the time."

He grinned, "Now whose stereotypes are showing? You're right, however, men do have one-track minds. It's just that mostly, they're fixated on food, not sex."

"Oh, very well, let's get up. But I shall expect some serious attention later on." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Oh, and let's be a little less casual today. Let's dress before breakfast, and wear some tidy clothes. I want you to wear the blue Laura Ashley, it suited you when you wore it the other day, what you you think?"

Colin raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting dressing up for today, hair, shoes, the lot?"

"Yes. It's a special day, why not make an effort? See how good you can look?"

"Very well, why not? I think I can just last out the extra hour it will take me to get ready before breakfast, but I shall be starving by then. What will you serve? An extra portion of gruel to feed my malnourished wasting body?"

She snorted. "Gruel? Hah!" Her eyes narrowed. "Actually, there's not a lot else to choose from. We've eaten all the eggs, and the only bacon that's left is going over the turkey. Having two mouths to feed is ruining my stocks, despite what I said a month ago."

"We'll have to 'think outside the box', to use a really horrible modern phrase," he suggested. "Got any kippers? Other smoked fish? Spam? Beans on toast? Pancakes? Waffles? Odd tins of strange things in your pantry?"

Shelagh nodded. "It's a thought, I'll have a look once I'm dressed." She swung her legs onto the floor.

"If you're going to be telling me what to wear, I thought I might make a similar request to you," Colin said. She turned her head, realising that she'd left him an opening, and wondering what he'd do with it. "Since I have never actually seen it on you, strangely enough, I would like to see what you look like in the 'posh' dress' today. I think that pair of blue shoes of yours I found would go quite well with it."

Her face fell. I hate that dress, it's old-fashioned. Perhaps that's not quite right, it may be more that I hated what it represented and that I was more or less forced to wear it. I can hardly complain, though, I've just asked him to wear a dress dating from the early seventies.

"What's the matter?" Colin asked, "Do you not like the dress? I'm sorry if it's taken me a long time to realise it, if that's the case. Have I misunderstood? You seemed quite happy to get me into it at every opportunity."

Shelagh wrinkled her nose. "It's not that. I think I've associated it with being made to wear something I thought was old-fashioned and then having to go to a function I didn't want to, to stand in a huge room full of people I didn't know, and get bored out of my mind, because there were very few people there my age. It's probably very silly, but that's the way the mind works sometimes." She came to a decision, and nodded. "There's nothing wrong with the dress itself, it still probably fits me, I'll wear it. It's high time I started laying some ghosts to rest, and I'll start with that one. Mind," she cautioned with an upraised finger, "because of the style, you'll not see me wear it very often. But you deserve to see me in it. Any other requests? No? Then I'll be off to the bathroom. If you wouldn't mind putting some logs in the range while I'm in there?"

Breakfast turned out to be porridge, followed by toast and jam, and specially for the day, ground coffee instead of tea. Both were wearing dresses, both had had their hair dampened and blow-dried into shape, and both were wearing heels, Colin's being the black stilettos. Both were also wearing pinnies to keep the food off their clothing. Since the morning would largely be spent preparing the main meal, the pinnies would remain in use until after they had finished eating dinner. The turkey was dealt with first. It was a very tiny one, since it would only be feeding two people, so it wouldn't take very long to cook. Once that had been put in the oven, they cleaned and prepared all the vegetables and sorted out all the little extras which go to make a proper Christmas spread.

A glass of wine mid-morning, and then they turned their attention to clearing and tidying the parlour. Shelagh had previously found some of her CD collection and they listened to carols and Christmas-related pop records while they set things up ready for the meal.

"Since you're the nearest thing we have in the cottage to a man -"

"That's not what you tell me in bed every night!"

"So, I humour you. Now, as I was saying, would you like to carve the turkey, or do you mind if I were to do it?" She held out the carving knife and fork.

"I'll do it! But just remember, you're stereotyping again. There's no reason why you couldn't do it."

"I find I'm becoming quite comfortable with the idea of having a man about the house, strange as it may seem. It means I've now got someone I can fob off all the dirty jobs onto."

"So, you're a feminist when it suits you and a feeble woman when it suits you. Talk about having your cake and eating it."

Shelagh smirked at Colin. "Yes, nice, isn't it? The lady of the house has to have some perks, after all."

Colin waved the knife in her direction. "Exactly where is the bird I'm supposed to stick this knife into?" he asked, with a glint in his eye.

"In the oven, from where I'm about to remove it," was the airy reply. "If you don't behave, you won't get any afters."

"Afters, eh? We'll see about that."

In the event, any 'afters' were somewhat delayed, since they had, as is customary, cooked and eaten so much food that they had both fallen asleep shortly after finishing dinner, both wakening stiffly as the light faded at the end of the afternoon. Colin yawned, stretching his arms to loosen them. He looked at Shelagh, still asleep on the settee next to him, and realised what a lucky man he was. What a catch! There was no longer any doubt in his mind where their relationship would end up, but he knew he still had to play his cards carefully until their situation was properly formalised, and to get to that state required Shelagh to make some further progress with her particular problems. Those issues could wait until the new year, though, so he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead until she wakened.

"Hello, beautiful."

Shelagh yawned. "Hello, you're quite gorgeous yourself, in case you hadn't noticed. Gosh, how long have we slept? What's the time?" She sat up and stretched.

"No idea. Don't care. Are you still full, or have you room for some Christmas pudding?"

She made a face. "God, the man does have a one-track mind! No, I've no room for much else. The pud can wait till tomorrow, or some other day. I will have some more wine, if there's any left."

Colin got up, switched on the light, then picked up the bottle from the debris still on the table and shook it. Finding some small amount remaining he tipped it into her glass, also still on the table, and brought it over to her.

"Note to self. Buy Shelagh a wine rack and some bottles, preferably full, to fit in it."

Shelagh took the glass and tipped the contents into her mouth. Then, using her free hand, she grabbed one of Colin's and pulled herself to her feet. She towed him over to the table and set her glass back down on it, then waved her hand over the contents.

"Pah! I think I'll be a slob tonight. Is there anything else we need to do before we retire? No? That was a rhetorical question, you understand. I've realised there's certainly one thing I've room for."

So saying, she towed him out of the parlour, switching the light off along the way.

*****

December 31st, 11:55pm

"I'm afraid I'm not a stranger, and I don't have a lump of coal, and it's certainly too cold for me to go roaming around outside at this hour of night, but I will wish that your coming year will be as happy for you as the last one ended up. Happy Hogmanay, darling."

"I hope I've brought as much happiness into your life as you've brought into mine. I hope that your happiness continues into the new year, as well. Happy Hogmanay, dearest."

*****

January 2nd

Satisfied with the results of his investigations, Colin shut down the computer and switched it off. He walked over to the big table, where Shelagh was kneading dough, and sat down in front of her.

"I don't think we can put it off any longer. Tomorrow, I want you to take me to Aberdeen."

Shelagh felt as though she had been stabbed. The moment she had long dreaded had finally come.

"Tomorrow? Does it have to be so soon?" she asked, unhappily.

"I've been looking at weather forecasts. It'll be more or less the same as we have now," he waved his hand in the direction of the big window, where a dull sky overshadowed a mostly snow-free landscape, "for the next three days or so, then the next batch of snow is due. If we don't get out now, we might not get out until the end of January. And you don't need to tell me that there are things you'll have run out of by then, so you do need to make a trip. There are things I have to do in Aberdeen, as soon as I was able, so it makes sense to combine a trip."

If I can delay him until the snow comes, he'll be mine until the end of January. But I can't do that, he's right, there are things we're getting short of, and I mustn't be selfish anyway.

"What do you need to go to Aberdeen for? There are closer towns we can pick up food and essentials." There was a burst of hope that they might get away with a trip to the nearest local stores, but Colin ended that immediately.

"No, I've got two cases in the hotel in Aberdeen which need picking up. There are some other essentials I ought to get as well, which can only be found in somewhere large. My main reason, though, is that I want to go shopping with you, to buy clothes for Lynne. We've struggled sharing the same outfits for long enough, it's time she had stuff of her own. The underwear department is particularly threadbare, I've only six pairs of briefs, two old cast-off bras, and some thirty-year-old slips we found in an old suitcase. It's time for some retail therapy, I like shopping in any case, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Shelagh stood very still, holding her breath. Suddenly, her imagined future appeared to be wavering like a mirage, ready to dissolve at the slightest wrong touch.

"Supposing we go to Aberdeen. Supposing we go shopping. What will you do then?"

What will I do then? Strange question.

"What do you mean, what will I do then? After the shopping, you mean?"

"Yes, after the shopping."

"I'm puzzled by your question. Why don't you tell me what you think might happen."

Shelagh's hands suddenly felt very heavy, and she looked down at them, to discover that she had torn the ball of dough in two, and each hand was deeply embedded in the halves, where she had involuntarily clenched her hands. She managed to merge back the two balls, and scrape most of the residue off her hands before replying, her spirits at rock bottom.

"Well, you could come back here with me," she began. Colin nodded. "Or you could catch a train and go back to your own place in Edinburgh." Is this the point I lose him? What happens to me then?

"You've missed a number of options," he said, gently. "Firstly, I could stay in Aberdeen, at the hotel I was at before, or for that matter, any city hotel. Alternatively, I could hire a car, and, having done that, I could either drive home to Edinburgh," she didn't like the sound of that 'home' meaning anywhere else but here, "or I could drive back here to be with you. Another thing I could do is to take you with me to stay with me in Edinburgh. I'm sure you'll like my flat."

The last option floored her, for she had never even considered such a thing. It was also hopeful, however, since it implied that she might have a longer-term future with him than she had feared would be the case.

"I thought you'd leave me," she said, her voice low. "Once you were well enough to go, I wondered -"

"I told you before," he replied, "but you obviously didn't believe me. I don't think I can live without you, and I'm not going anywhere without you by my side."

"Oh, Colin!" she said, tears streaming down her face. She ran round the table towards him, arms outstretched. Colin got up and back away rapidly.

"You keep away from me with those dirty hands! It'll take ages to get dough out of these clothes."

He was wearing the 'cheerleader' outfit of ribbed polo-neck jumper, box-pleated cord skirt and shoes, all brown, which both of them liked on him, and she stopped abruptly. She ran round to the sink and scraped most of the mess off her hands, wiping the rest on a tea-towel, before running to him and clasping him tightly.

"Oh, Colin," she said, again. "Perhaps I'm just not seeing things clearly at the moment. I've been obsessing over this moment since Christmas. "I'd hoped..." She paused. "Actually, I'm not sure what I had hoped. I was more frightened you'd go and leave me."

"Have no fear on that score," he replied, kissing her forehead, "You're stuck with me, like it or not."

She turned her face up to his. "Does it have to be Aberdeen? Can't we go somewhere smaller to start with? Oh, there's your cases, aren't there. Can't you leave them for a while longer?"

"Yes, it does have to be Aberdeen. And I think it's important for you to get out, too. If you are to lay your ghosts to rest, like you said the other day, you have to start somewhere. Don't forget that I'll be beside you all the way, so it's not like you're being thrown alone to the wolves, or anything like that. When was the last time you left the cottage, incidentally? Not including the ski trip you went on last month to tell people about me."

"I don't remember, exactly," she said, "it must have been when I went out to get the rest of my winter supplies. That would be round about the beginning of October, I would think. A lot of stuff I order over the Internet or phone and get delivered, but there are always a few things one has to sort out face to face."

Colin frowned. "Not good. You've slipped into a hermit-like existence without really realising it. No wonder you latched on to me when I appeared." Shelagh looked offended. Colin put his finger under her chin and lifted her head. "It doesn't matter, my love. The necessary spark was there between us, and that's all that matters. If I had been someone else, you might have handled things in a totally different way, but you got it right with me, and we're here, in each other's arms, which is the way things should be."

Shelagh nestled her head back onto Colin's chest, and said, "I am almost as frightened of going to Aberdeen as I was of losing you."

"I know, and that's a fear you must surmount the same way as you do any fear. But I have a possible way to soften the blow, so to speak. It depends on whether you can leave the bread making till later on."

"It's tricky, but it can be done. How long do I have to leave it? What do you want me to do?"

"We can go to that village at the end of the track," he explained. "What's it called? Achna something."

"Achnasuidhe."

"If we take the Land Rover, that will give us a chance to find out if the track is passable, and also give you an opportunity to buy some things in the village shop. Presumably you're familiar with the locals around here, so it shouldn't cause you much distress."

"You'll come with me?"

"Yes, of course. I'll be there to give you moral support."

"How will you go? As you are now?"

That stopped Colin in his tracks, because he had completely forgotten how he was dressed. Nobody knows who I am. I mustn't forget they're locals, though. They'll remember everything, so I have to get it exactly right. Am I doing this too soon? What the hell, let's do it. There always has to be a first time. And the example of me doing this might help Shelagh get through tomorrow.

"If you would like me to," he said slowly, "then I will. It's going to be a bit of an adventure for me, but it's something that has to happen some time, and this seems like a good opportunity. The locals all know you, I suppose." Shelagh nodded. "You'll have to be careful to introduce me properly, or they'll start putting two and two together and getting crazy answers. Can you deal with it if I get stressed during the trip? I don't want to put you under any extra stress of your own."

"Don't worry," she said, and pulled his head down to kiss him. "I'll look after you."

The dough was kneaded back into shape, and it was put in the cold outbuilding in a covered bowl to wait till they returned from the village. They took an early lunch, and then prepared themselves to go out, Colin wearing the coat, scarf, hat and sheepskin mitts he had worn the day the electric men had come. On his feet, for a change, he was wearing the long zip-side boots, which flapped round his narrow calves a little as he walked. Shelagh wore jeans and walking boots, as, she said, it would be better for her if they had to deal with any obstructions on the road.

The tarpaulin was pulled off the Land Rover and they both climbed in, the gate already being open. The engine coughed from disuse but then started, and they were off, only stopping to secure the cottage. The track wound round the crag and then climbed to the notch in the ridge. When Colin saw the terrain, he marvelled that he had managed to drive along the track at all in the poor conditions that day he had arrived. The track was almost entirely clear of snow, flood or debris, but there were still patches of snow visible on the moor. They drove to the junction with the village road, then turned right towards Achnasuidhe, which was some miles further on. Parking in the village, Shelagh led the way into the General Store.

"Mr Murray," she said to the man behind the counter. "Good afternoon to you."

"Why, it's Miss Fraser, isn't it? Haven't seen you for a good while. How are things with you?"

"Not too bad, thank you. We got cut off over Christmas, as usual. It's the first occasion I've had to get out of the cottage."

"Aye. And who's your friend? Haven't seen you around here before, have I, lassie?" Colin shook his head.

"Oh! Forgive me, this is my cousin Lynne, from Edinburgh, she's been staying with me for the last few weeks. It's meant some of my stocks are a bit run down, which is why I've come."

"Hello, lass."

"Good afternoon, Mr Murray," responded Colin, carefully.

"Now, what is it you need?" the shopkeeper asked Shelagh. She had no intention of buying too much at the shop, since the local prices were way in excess of what she could get from her usual cash and carry, but there were certain essentials that had been getting low: toilet paper, soap, washing powder, toothpaste, tea and numerous others.

Business transacted, Shelagh put the bags into the back of the Land Rover, and then suggested to Colin, "How are you feeling so far? What say you we stretch our legs a little before we head back?"

"How far were you thinking of going? I'm all right, though what I feel at the moment is more dream-like than threatening. There's a distinctly surreal aspect to this outing, for me."

"Good, I'm pleased to hear that you're okay. I was only thinking of walking the length of the village, that's all."

"I can deal with that, although you'll have to go slowly. I haven't done much walking of any consequence wearing these boots."

The two linked arms and wandered through the small village, Shelagh commenting on points of interest as they passed. Finally, the two arrived back at the Land Rover and climbed in. Shelagh started back towards the cottage.

"That was... liberating, that's the only word I can find to describe it," commented Colin, as they turned off the road onto the track. "I might not feel quite so confident if I were to walk around under bright city lights, with many people scrutinising me, but that little encounter went smoothly, don't you think?"

"I think you did really well. Of course, I didn't treat you any differently than I would a real girlfriend, so that may have contributed. The few people around just saw us as two women out for a stroll. Will you be going to Aberdeen tomorrow as Lynne, do you think?"

"I've been thinking long and hard about that, ever since we came out today. It would certainly be an intriguing challenge, but I think the answer has to be no. It had to be Colin who turns up to the hotel to collect his stuff, they know me there."

Shelagh had been hoping for a little 'female solidarity' for the trip tomorrow, which she decided she would have to attempt, whatever her feelings were. She understood Colin's reasons for his decision, though.

"What about yourself?" Colin continued. "Did you feel upset or anything while we were in the village?"

"No, I didn't. Perhaps I've been letting all this build up unnecessarily. Of course, there weren't many people about, and I knew all those we did see. But I think you were right, I needed to get back out into the real world, I needed to start rehabilitating myself. Thank you for suggesting going." She smiled warmly at him.

By the time they reached the cottage again it was completely dark. After putting the Land Rover away and going inside, Shelagh left Colin to put away their purchases while she got the dough back out and revived it. They had an early dinner, because the following day promised to be busy, and they had to make the most of the few hours of winter daylight.

Before retiring for the night Colin thought it might be a good idea for Shelagh to measure him up so that they could be sure any clothes that they bought would fit properly. Of course, they knew that in general most things that fit Shelagh would fit Colin, but there were differences, Colin being that little bit taller, therefore needing longer tights and longer hemlines, and also needing a larger bra size. After writing down all the relevant dimensions for reference they climbed into bed where Shelagh seemed somewhat subdued.

"I'm not looking forward to tomorrow," she said.

"One day in the future, you'll smile about tomorrow," he replied. "Don't worry yourself, I'll be with you and I'll help you get through it. Aren't you looking forward to a bit of shopping?"

"Well, yes," she admitted, "but it's everything else."

"Everything? Everything? You can't be serious."

It was the first night that they didn't have sex before going to sleep. Colin understood, and just held her close until she drifted off, her tears making a damp patch on his nightdress.

*****

January 3rd

Colin woke, feeling the comforting softness and warmth of Shelagh's body jammed against his. He lay in the darkness for a time, deciding which outfit he would wear today, until the realisation came that he couldn't wear any of them. This was the day, and he'd have to return to being a man again, so his choice of clothing was pre-ordained. There was a very faint greyness in the room, so he knew that it was just dawn, and they would have to prepare themselves for what could be a long and possibly difficult day. He gently shook Shelagh until she came blearily awake.

"Huh?"

"Rise and shine," he said quietly, "time to get ready for your big adventure."

"Um. Slave driver." She came to properly, and they spent a few minutes kissing before she finally climbed out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Colin followed her a few minutes later, as he heard her go into the parlour and start feeding logs into the range. He could now shave himself, and he made sure that he looked respectable. He dampened down his hair and carefully combed it to resemble the style he had sported when he had arrived. In a little more than a month it had grown, but not excessively so, and he thought that he could get away with it at the new length. Moving into the spare bedroom, he lifted the box containing all the 'man clothes' onto the bed and looked at it. Except for the vest and boxer shorts he had been wearing when he had arrived, the contents were still wrapped as they had been the day they had been delivered, untouched and unopened. He set to work opening packages and clipping labels.

Why did I ever think that boxer shorts were comfortable? I just can't get them to sit right. They're bulky, too. Don't like this vest, it doesn't fit properly. This shirt is all horrible and scratchy, and billows everywhere. Of course, it's just what the doctor found for me, but he got my size right. Have I really been wearing stuff like this all my life? Socks. Well, socks are okay I suppose, but they make my legs feel funny, the absence of something touching them all the way up. The trousers feel odd, too, too tight on the hips and I can't get them up to my waist. Do men really wear trousers way down here? If I have to wear men's things in the future, I'm going to pay much more attention to material and fit. How do men put up with this?

He walked into the parlour and said, "What do you think?"

Shelagh turned from the range and was just able to stop herself screaming. There's a man in my cottage! Then her brain caught up with her senses. Of course there is, silly. The porridge spoon had clattered onto the range, and she picked it up and put it back into the pot. She looked at Colin, still shocked. He took one look at her startled face and took a step back.

"Whoa, there! It's only me." He realised that he hadn't considered what his appearance might do to her. This was followed by the realisation that she hadn't seen him dressed properly as a man, other than the night of the accident, for a year and a half, and then only for a brief time.

Shelagh made the pot safe, then slowly came round the big table towards him, uncertain. Was this the real Colin, the one she had been trying to avoid? He opened his arms.

"Hugs and cuddles?" he said, anxiety on his face.

She walked towards him slowly, as though approaching a wild animal. At the last moment, she raised her arms and touched his shirt, almost flinching as the material met her hands. Then realising that he was still the same person, she slowly put her arms around his waist. She promptly found another alien thing, his chest was flat. Even though she was used to it when they were in bed, she found the whole experience unsettling, having become used to his breast pads if they embraced whenever he was dressed.

She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

"It's still the same old me," he said, softly, "I told you, you're not getting rid of me that easily. I just decided to wear fancy dress today, that's all." He lifted her chin and kissed her.

She had known subconsciously that this would have to happen, but she had made no effort to prepare herself for it. Now, satisfied that the person standing before her was the same person she loved, she was able to accept what needed to happen to her to allow her to progress. She kissed him again, and then returned to the range.

Colin washed up after breakfast while Shelagh dressed, and then they went out into the early light in the yard. He pulled the tarpaulin off the Honda and folded it, stowing it in one of the empty stalls while Shelagh opened the gate. They climbed in and set off, making sure as before that the cottage was secure.

Forty miles later, they approached the city. Passing some superstores, Colin remarked, "We can stop at one of these on the way back and fill up with food and other domestic items. That'll save us having to carry stuff round the streets today. We'll have enough to do as it is."

"Okay. Where do you want me to take us now? Do you want to find a park near the main shopping area?" Shelagh asked.

"I thought first we'd go to the hotel. We'd better get my two cases, then we'll have an idea how much room we'll have for goodies."

Colin directed her through the streets to the hotel where he usually stayed when he travelled in this part of Scotland. She parked in the hotel car park, and they climbed out.

"You coped with that drive remarkably well, I thought. How do you feel so far?" he asked.

She replied, "The open road was okay, but I know it takes a while getting used to all the traffic, especially as we got closer to the city. I'd forgotten how fast everyone drives. I should be all right to drive home, though."

"We could be quite tired by the time we're ready to leave. If you like, we can stop here overnight and go back tomorrow, if you think it'll be too much for you."

"Let's see how I get on. We've barely started the day, yet."

Hand in hand they walked into the foyer, Colin heading for the concierge desk.

"Good morning, Mr Anderson! It's good to see you. After the last call we had about you, I wondered whether we'd ever see you again."

"Hello Gus!" Colin shook the manager's hand. "I wondered myself, at the time. This is the lady who saved my life, and who's now my partner, Miss Shelagh Fraser. Shelagh, this is Gus MacDonald, day manager of this fine establishment."

The manager's eyebrows had risen at the word 'partner', and he shook Shelagh's hand. "Nice to meet you, miss." Then, to Colin, he asked, "How bad was your accident? The man who telephoned said you were injured."

"Yes, I was being an idiot and driving through a snowstorm. My car hit a rock and caught fire. Here, have a look at my hands." He showed Gus his hands, and the manager whistled when he saw the burn scars. "I have some burns on my legs, too. Fortunately, Miss Fraser here is a trained nurse and knew exactly what to do." He blushed. "Then, we were snowed in for three weeks, and the rest is history."

"Aye, he's a fortunate lad to pick up such a fine lass as yourself," Gus remarked. It was Shelagh's turn to blush. "Well, it'll be your cases you're after, if you'll come this way, there's a store-room where we keep such things."

Colin lifted his cases onto a small table and opened them one by one.

"Ugh! Mostly washing, I'm afraid," he apologised to Shelagh. There were several clean shirts plus underwear left, so Colin thought that he had enough male clothing to last - assuming that he actually needed any. There was little else of any use in either of the cases. He closed the cases and stood them on the floor.

"If you can bring one of these out to the car, Gus, I can manage the other."

As they were walking to the foyer, Colin asked the manager, "Where's the nearest car park to here? We need to leave the car somewhere while we go shopping."

"How long do you plan to be in town?"

"All day, probably. Why, is that a problem?"

"It might be. You do realise the January sales have started? I doubt you'll find a car park space for miles. Why don't you leave your car here? I'll keep an eye on it for you. It's not as if we don't know you, after all."

The group stopped. Neither Colin or Shelagh had thought about the significance of the time of year, and were grateful for the manager's offer. They returned the cases to the store-room, and thanked Gus profusely before they hit the streets.

On walking towards the shops, both Shelagh and Colin discovered, separately, that their recent experiences made them view the other people around them in a different way. Shelagh began to see that instead of all men representing a danger to her, they were mostly ignorant of her presence and interested only in their own affairs. Colin in turn began to see men and women differently, observing women from a completely different point of view to that of most men, and viewing men as oblivious to what was in front of them most of the time.

Colin's first call was at a mobile phone shop, where he obtained a replacement charger for his phone. Following that, they made a bee-line for a pharmacy where Colin had set up a repeat prescription for the moisturiser, and collected four more tubs. Then, they systematically went through every shop that sold clothing, fashion items, underwear and everything else they could think of. They returned to the hotel part way through the morning to dump armfuls of shopping bags with the cases, amusing Gus. Once Shelagh had got over her initial shock of seeing so many people in one place, following her isolation in the cottage, the lure of the sales proved too much and she threw herself completely into the fray. The only thing that showed her concern was her tight grip on Colin's arm as they walked around. By lunch time they were exhausted, and found a department store restaurant to have a meal in.

"Well that went well. How are you feeling, now?" Colin asked, in the crowded restaurant.

"I think I'd have preferred somewhere quieter to start with. I'd completely forgotten the sales would be on."

"So had I. I'd have done things differently if I'd realised it was going to be this packed."

"I'm managing, so far. In fact, the fact that there's so many people may be helping. There's supposed to be safety in crowds, isn't there?"

"I think that's what they say. Now, I'm no judge, but to me you look as though you're having a whale of a time."

"I am somewhat. I used to love the sales, I'd go with all my mates and have a ball. How about you? Is this the first time you've been female-style sales shopping?"

Colin pulled a face. "I used to get dragged around by my mother when I was a boy. I didn't like it at all, then. Today seems different. Perhaps it's because I'm actually looking for things for myself. And with your good advice, I'm beginning to understand what to look out for, and what to avoid. What suits me, and what doesn't. We've picked up quite a lot of stuff already, you've bought a lot of things too. How much more do you think there is to do?"

Shelagh spluttered. "Pitiful male, you have no idea. We've barely scratched the surface. True, you've now got some skirts, blouses and tops of your own, even a couple of dresses and a suit," she raised a startled glance from the woman at the next table, who steadfastly ignored them afterwards, "you've got bras, briefs, tights, two scarves, a pair of gloves that fits you, not me, what else? We haven't started on the rest, yet. There's cosmetics to find, hair products, a hat or two, handbags, purses, some jewellery, bangles, brooches, necklaces, that sort of thing. I don't think we'll have time to get your ears pierced today -" The woman at the next table had had enough, collected her things and left. Shelagh giggled at her retreating back. "Serves her right for eavesdropping. Now, where was I? Oh, I'd had an idea. I think I'll buy you a suspender belt as a present, along with some pairs of stockings."

"When we were looking at tights, earlier, you told me that stockings were old fashioned. Why the change of mind?"

"Nurse Fraser thinks they might be better for you. You have equipment down there that shouldn't get too warm, unlike myself. Stockings may be an answer to that. You can mix and match with tights, I wouldn't suggest wearing one or the other all the time, it depends on circumstances."

"Do you wear stockings any more?"

"I did once upon a time, when I was a first-year student. A lot of us did it to wind up the patients. There are probably laws against that kind of thing now. Hmm. I'll take your implied hint, and maybe buy myself some. We'll see."

At the cosmetics counters Shelagh insisted on buying an absurd amount of items. Colin finally realised that firstly, she was buying for herself as well as him, and secondly, that they would both need to experiment in order to find combinations and styles that suited each of their skin types and facial features.

"Normally, you're told not to share cosmetics, because they can harbour bacteria which can get transferred from person to person. I don't think that there's anything you've got which you haven't already passed on to me, or vice versa, so that shouldn't be a problem in our case."

"I can think of one thing I've got, that you haven't caught yet." She looked questioningly at him. "Though not from want of trying." He raised an eyebrow.

She looked at him demurely through her lashes. "Ah," she murmured, suddenly happy, "perhaps we'll have to try a little harder."

She bought him a complete manicure set, a hair dryer, heated rollers, brushes, combs and other similar gear, explaining that while he was free to use hers while at the cottage, he would need his own set in Edinburgh, "So that I can borrow them when I come to stay."

At the last minute he remembered, and they had a frantic dash round till he found an electric shaver to replace the one destroyed in the fire. Finally, with another double armful of bags each, they made their way back to the hotel.

"My credit card doesn't know what's hit it," Colin said as they loaded up the car. "It's just as well my spending for last month was zero, or I'd have had to think carefully about where the money would come from."

"You're not short of money, surely?"

"No, but we had a bit of a blow-out today. There's only so much elasticity in the system. It'll be fine." He realised that from now on, his financial circumstances would be of interest to Shelagh. He surveyed the pile of packages in the boot of the car.

"We bought a lot of stuff between us today, didn't we? How much more is there likely to be?"

"We've still got big gaps," Shelagh replied, "we'll have to try out what we've got, and find out what works and what doesn't. We haven't got you a winter coat yet, those raincoats we bought won't keep the cold out, they're more for spring wear. You need a pair or two of jeans, for when we are out and about away from the cottage. No housecoat or nightdresses. Fortunately, you've got a good selection of footwear already, but you'll need a pair of house shoes or mules like I've got. We'll probably need two or three more trips, spread over the next couple of months, weather permitting, of course." She thought. "You're going to have to buy and put together a new wardrobe, I think, to keep all your new clothes in. Once started, it's never ending."

On the way home, having raided a superstore in passing, Shelagh said, "I think I did better today that I expected. You were right, it's done me the world of good. As I said earlier, I think the crowds helped. It might not be so easy for me if I was on my own, or with a smaller number of people around. But you'll be there to help me, won't you?"

Colin reached over and squeezed her nearest hand. "You can count on it."

"I've been thinking," she continued mischievously, "maybe when I go for my interview at the clinic, I'll ask Doctor Ferguson if they've any openings for receptionists."

Colin was just about to ask why she was considering doing a non-professional job when he realised that she wasn't talking about herself. He was startled by the notion that he might get a job as a female, that he could live and earn full-time as a woman. Well, that would be a bridge to cross in the future. First of all, he had to make sure of that future.

As they turned onto the track, he could see that Shelagh was thinking deeply. Strange expressions kept flitting over her face, then clearing. He decided not to interrupt whatever was going on.

They pulled up behind the cottage as the light was going. Colin opened the gate, Shelagh drove in, and they began the process of unloading the car, food and other perishables first. Finally, all was stowed inside, the clothes mostly dumped on the bed in the spare room. Colin shut the back door and then went and opened the front door to stand just outside, watching the evening glow over the mountains. The edge of the cloud had lifted, showing the last of the sunset, and it promised to be a fine, if cool, evening. Shelagh came and joined him, curling her arm around his waist.

"Hello, man," she said, "my man."

"Tired?" he asked.

"Oh, absolutely," came the reply, "but I think I might be able to manage to do some remedial exercise a little later, after we've eaten."

"I can't imagine what you're talking about," he said, innocently. "You were having deep thoughts in the car," he added, "I didn't like to disturb you."

"Oh, that. Yes, I was thinking, the sisterhood got it all wrong. They looked at life from the angle that men considered women to be possessions, not equals. I don't think it ever occurred to them that it could also happen the other way round. You're mine," she said possessively, squeezing him tightly, "even though I know I'm yours, as well, and that doesn't worry me at all, to my surprise."

He put his arm round her shoulder. "I'm glad you feel that way. I can't imagine being in any relationship where the two parties were unevenly matched, although I know it does happen."

"I was also thinking, in the car, that I'm not independent any more. I'm dependant on you, and I find that strangely, I've no problem with that either."

Colin pondered a little in silence, savouring the sunset, then said, "I think you're taking too harsh a view of the dependence/independence business. It's not a black and white thing, one or the other, there are shades of grey between, maybe even colours. Listen to me, getting lyrical! For example, we could have a partnership. In fact, I would like to propose a partnership, an equal partnership between you and me, split fifty-fifty, right down the middle. Actually, I think what I am saying is, I propose. Shelagh Fraser, will you marry me?"

Shelagh thought back, from her nursing career, her attack and her increasing isolation, from their first brief meeting, to his sudden arrival, injured, in the snow, of nursing him back to health, their gradual coming together, the blossoming of Lynne, their first kiss, the blissful weeks that followed, his smile, his good advice, his warm and loving hands, his sense of humour, the happiness he had given her, the security he had brought her. She thought of the future that beckoned.

"Yes," she said, "I will."