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But did I want to change anything? Emphatically no. My life had taken a sudden and dramatic turn for the better. I had found the woman I had fantasised about for years. She was ten times more beautiful now that when I had last seen her. Unaccountably and rather wonderfully she feels the same about me.

But, and there is always a 'but', there was a serious one blot on the landscape. One thing that could spoil my happiness and knock me back into the middle of last week if not the last decade.

Out of sheer instinct I had lied. I had concealed, or at least failed to reveal something about myself. I had uttered this falsehood under direct questioning and I could see no way of undoing the lie without revealing a serious breach of trust.

I began to feel miserable and a tear ran down my cheek. I snatched a tissue from the box on the side table and tried to catch it before it damaged my makeup beyond repair. The explosive re-entry of Louise into my life had rather knocked me off balance. I did not usually cry so easily but this time I was crying for something wonderful, recently gained and inevitably soon to be lost.

Louise reappeared, now dressed in a blue figure-hugging jersey dress with a bolero style jacket. She was pulling one of the suitcases along behind her. Even whilst tugging on the ungainly luggage she moved with effortless grace, her handbag in the crook of her left arm and her gloves held in her left hand.

"I've left the other case open in the bedroom in case you wanted to bring any of your other stuff with you"

"I thought you said I would be staying en-femme for the whole operation?"

"That's correct."

"Then why would I need any of my own clothes?"

"I thought that we were going to be honest with each other."

"What do you mean?" My heart was thumping in my chest and I hardly dared breathe. I tried to keep my face neutral.

"Come off it! House not in the personnel record. No telephone landline. Look at the place. Batchelor pad it is not. The 'oh-so conveniently to hand' cache-sexe. The fact that you have not complained once about the make-up and primping or even the corset. The way that your voice changed register upwards whenever I put the wig on you. Even you sitting there like a Paris model smoking that cigarette. You don't smoke."

"Eric doesn't smoke. Erica does."

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Fascinating.”

"You knew all this when you agreed to marry me?"

"I had worked out most of it. Don’t forget what I do for living!”

"Have you changed your mind?"

“About?”

“Getting married?”

"No, not at all, but I will have to reconsider my position unless you open up soon. Where do you keep all of Erica's stuff?"

"It's mostly in the bedroom room at the far end of the hall. In fact that’s Erica’s room. Are you very upset?"

"About the secrecy or about the fact that you have a feminine alter-ego?"

"Either. Both."

"As for the secrecy, I am a little hurt but I can understand your dilemma. Although I expect I will have to think up a punishment of some sort or other. Especially as I did ask and it didn't come out. As for the dressing, I am absolutely bloody... " She smiled "delighted."

I started to cry again. Louise came and sat next to me and took my hands in hers.

"Look, there may be one thing I didn't properly explain. You know, because Daddy told you, that I could never stand big strong hairy men. Well it goes a bit further than that.

For a while I thought I might be a lesbian. I even tried a relationship with a female. It was a total disaster.

The truth is I am not a lesbian and I am not bisexual. I have always wanted a man in my life but not a butch one. I told daddy and he said that a man in a skirt would most likely be looking for a man, not a woman. I asked him if he remembered that night at the school play. He did, and said that he remembered you and he doubted that you were gay. He knew your late father, you know. They were in the same regiment in Korea. Your father was very proud when you got into university, the first in your family. Daddy said that he thought you had gone off to America with some big computer company.

About four months after that conversation this job came up, I honestly didn't know that your birthday was the same as Ali's until your name came out on the search of the force records. I didn't even know that you were in the police let alone the same force. A little bit of checking revealed that your sister Elizabeth was listed as your next of kin and she lives in the house where you grew up. An exact cross match. The rest, as the say, is history.”

She pulled me towards her and I rested my head on her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Erica before?”

“Instinct, self-preservation I suppose, and fear too. Fear of losing you.”

Once more I was pulled upright and treated to the penetrating appraisal of those light blue eyes.

“Don’t worry about that my love. Erica just another good reason to love you. You don’t suppose I leap into bed with every young man who comes along, do you? I just couldn’t help myself. Mind you, you were dead easy. I hope you don’t jump into bed with every blonde that comes along.”

“You weren’t the first one, you were the second.”

“The second blonde?”

“No the second girl, well both really, the other was a blonde though.”

“What happened?”

“I told her about Erica, in a round about way, sort of hinted rather than give everything away”

“What happened?”

“She left. We were on a weekend break in Cornwall. She just packed up and left without another word. As soon as she got home she changed her mobile number and moved her stuff out of our flat. Ha! She even took half the food in the fridge including three eggs out of a box of six.”

“Aha, you got the message then.”

“Couldn’t miss it, really. I don’t miss her but I got the message loud and clear. I gave up the flat and moved into the section house. That was two years ago.”

“Have you now given everything away?”

“There’s nothing else, nothing important anyway. When I am here I live as Erica. I never go into Bridport, Dorchester or Bournemouth as Eric. I have taken elaborate precautions to cover my tracks and avoided making too many friends or acquaintances locally because of what happened in my last house.”

“What was that?”

“The village gossips decided that my unexplained affluence must be due to immoral earnings. They thought I was a whore on rest and recreation.”

We both laughed and Louise hugged me again.

“Was that so awful?”

“Most of the women treated me with excessive politeness or complete indifference. It started to get difficult when some of the men stated to buzz around like wasps around a jam jar.”

“What were they after… free samples?”

“Something like that.”

“What about here?”

“I have a cover story, I am an independent consultant and trouble shooter for major IT companies. Very hush-hush, mustn’t talk about my work. I do, however, get asked to help out with home computer problems although that is almost exclusively for females. None of the local male population wants to admit that they have not entirely mastered the art of computer maintenance and repair. They also tend to avoid a woman with acknowledged technical expertise. It’s almost as if it is a challenge to their manhood.”

“Huh, typical men, of which you are clearly not an example. You are all man, I know that, but far from typical. By the way how does Erica pay for things?”

“I have a bank account and cards like anyone else.”

“How did you prove your identity? Has Erica got a passport? I hope you have not done anything illegal that is going to get you taken away from me so soon.”

“Yesterday you were suggesting using your sister’s passport for the same purpose.”

“I could have justified that on operational grounds. How did you manage it?”

“I just played the helpless female. Don’t have a passport, which was true at the time. Just out of university and looking for work. Recently come into a legacy, which I wanted to bank. I had a cheque from my sister for my share of the house. It said to pay Eric but in her dreadful spidery writing. I had a reference from the landlady of my digs in my final year at university. That was on a university standard form with a space for writing in the name. As usual with official forms the space was very small so she had just put ‘E Clarke’. I have not broken any laws that I know of. Certainly not forged anything. That’s why Erica does not drive. If she, I, was pulled over by the police very difficult questions would be bound to follow. I can’t work as Erica. I have no national insurance number. Not that I need the money but I do need the structure in my life. I can’t even work as a volunteer in a charity shop because of the police and criminal record checks they all insist on. So here, I am a lady of leisure and part time computer fixer. Two counties away, I am a police constable. I don’t even know if I have been accepted for the accelerated promotion scheme. I was due to find out yesterday but all this intervened.”

“Ha, didn’t Wilf Willis tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“You were accepted, acting-sergeant with effect from the beginning of last month. You don’t think that I could be found in bed with a mere constable do you?”

“Well there’s a thing!”

“Indeed, now let’s go and put your sexiest stuff in that suitcase. We were supposed to be in Bournemouth by 12:30. We have missed the appointment I made at the nail bar already but they don’t close until five and I want to get your hands seen to, don’t you?”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Not a lot as hands go but wait until you see them with nail extensions and red nail varnish. First, though, you can buy me lunch with some of your back pay.”

It was to be a late lunch. We put a couple of my nighties and a selection of my underwear in the suitcase with a few of my top clothes that Louise approved of. Only one pair of my sensible shoes for country living was accepted.

Once my makeup was repaired, which I was allowed to do myself under Louise’s supervision. We were ready to go. Louise brought her car round to the front from where it had been parked the night before leaving the soft top in place. Having checked that there was nobody in the lane she signalled for me to come out. I quickly moved from the house to the car keeping my head down and quickly getting inside. We drove away with the top up and the windows closed. Louise thought it all great fun.

“What a cloak and dagger exercise! Do you have that problem very time you come here?”

“No, usually I come and go as Erica. Just in case Eric is spotted I have added him to the legend as my brother.”

“Ah, not only are you now my sister but you are also your own sister! The plot thickens! You must transition to Erica between work and here. How do you do it?”

“You’ll laugh. I have a lock-up garage in Southampton. It has a powered door. I just drive up in my little VW Golf, which has darkened windows by the way, and close the door behind me. Inside is a secure metal cupboard with a mirror and a light and hanging space for a few clothes and space for a suitcase or two. I call it my superman booth but in my case the pants are worn under the tights. A few minutes after driving in I come out through the side door, walk down to the corner shop and meet a taxi that I have ordered on my mobile. That takes me to the station. I use another taxi from Dorchester station. As I said, Erica doesn’t drive. Except my Powabike that is.”

“Powabike?”

“Electrically assisted bicycle, it has a big basket on the front. I use it to go to the shop and make calls on computers that need sorting. It’s very green and doesn’t call for me to have a driving licence.”

“Erica, my love, you are just chock-full of surprises.”