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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

Editor's Note: Jenny Walker has graciously allowed me to represent her original story No Half Measures on BigCloset. Originally published on BigCloset Classic, this story segment was migrated over to BigCloset TopShelf on 2005-03-02. Due to the original story presentation format being unsuitable and unwieldy for most portable devices (each part being over 1 meg in length), the story is now being broken up into single chapters for easier reading. The original Movements will be indicated on their respective chapters. The first chapter of each Movement will retain the original comments and read hits so as to preserve them for the author.

Sephrena Lynn Miller

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Chapter 15
 
 
Jon called over on Thursday morning. He brought his guitar, of course. I had wanted to talk about other potential band members, but he wanted to play some songs first.

"Let's just try out some of your songs. Let me get a feel for them. It will get me in the mood and then we can think about the band."

"OK, what do you want to try first?" I asked.

He wanted to try the songs he had played along with so we went through 'No half measures'. We played it over and over until he was happy. Jon was a bit of a perfectionist like me. He believed in knowing a song backwards. It was a little tedious for me after a while. Having written the song, I already knew it inside out, but he wanted to finalise his runs and riffs. We wrote room for a guitar solo into the song and he made me play the backing chords for the solo over and over again whilst he experimented, changed and corrected what he was doing. At last he seemed happy, but wanted to go over it several more times until he was sure he had it in his head.

"Jon, not again," I groaned.

He grinned at me, "One more time."

"That's what you have said the last five times!"

He shrugged, "Come on, humour me."

I did. And he actually did seem happy enough this time. We moved on to 'I just wanna be me' and went through the same procedure. I resigned myself to playing this endlessly whilst he perfected his runs. They sounded fine to me after the first few times, but not good enough for him. I was tempted to leave the sequencer on repeat and leave him to it. But I knew he worked better with live playing of a song. He said that I had to sing it so he got the real feel of it. I didn't exactly give the vocal performances quite my best as it would have tired my voice out with the endless repetition. We moved on to 'Living life in colour' and gave it the same treatment. Although I was getting weary with the whole procedure, I had to admit that Jon was bringing a totally new dimension to the songs. A different perspective, a different ear. It made the difference between a good song and a brilliant song. It was quite exciting.

"Can we try another song?" he asked.

"Jon, no. I'm exhausted and hungry. It's way past lunchtime and we need to talk about the band," I pouted.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled a little, "Don't pout at me. I'm immune to your charms remember?"

I put my hands on my hips, inclined my head and batted my eyelids, "Is that so?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Now don't get weird on me. Alright, let's break then."

I led the way upstairs into the kitchen. I made some coffee and some sandwiches. As I turned around, I noticed him looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

He looked awkward and shrugged, "Nothing."

"No come on." I looked at him and waited for him to answer.

He sighed and waved a hand, "I was just wondering why you had to dress so...well...I don't know...provocatively. It's not exactly making it easy for me to you know adjust to the new you."

I was wearing a black rib-knit top and my short checked miniskirt. I sat down and smiled, "Jon. I'm not trying to make things difficult. This is me. It's how I like to dress." I paused, "And you know, well when we play or do publicity stuff as a band eventually, I've no illusions as to the kind of wardrobe and look that the PR people are going to want to go with if you know what I mean."

He nodded his head from side to side, "Yeah OK. I'll just have to deal with it." He looked at me, "Are you sure you're comfortable with this? I mean, are you sure this isn't just a phase or something?"

I laughed, "Yes, I'm sure. You sound like my mother."

He raised his eyebrows as the realisation just hit him, "You've told your parents. Yes I suppose you would have. Wow. How'd that go?"

I grimaced, "Not good. Difficult."

"Did they...well accept it?"

I shrugged, "Not really. I made it clear they would have to though. I think they accepted that this was what was happening, but they don't approve at all. Made for a nice family Christmas."

He took a bit of his sandwich, "I'm sure it was a real party. As long as you're sure you can go through with all this." He paused, "I mean, just what you were saying about the PR stuff, you do know what the reaction to you is going to be?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"The male reaction. I mean, looking like you do and the way you'll be marketed, you're going to draw more than your fair share of male attention. How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged, "I know it's a possibility, but I haven't really thought about it. I'll deal with it if it arises."

He nodded slowly and began hesitantly, "It might be none of my business..." He stopped, "Never mind."

"No go on," I prompted.

He took a deep breath, "I was just wondering, what with you being a woman and all now, well are you into...I mean do you like..."

"Do I fancy guys?" I completed the question for him.

He looked embarrassed, "Uhh yeah, something like that."

I shook my head, "No. I don't. It's not really an issue." I said it confidently and I felt I believed it. I wasn't going to be messing about any more. In control.

He smiled bashfully, "OK, sorry for prying."

I waved a hand, "Don't sweat it. It's only natural for you to ask and you're not the first to ask. Now band members!"

He grinned, "OK. Well first thing I had thought of was drums. Kevin Noble is doing a few gigs with a band called 'Homeland' but I don't think they are really going anywhere."

"Kevin Noble," I mused, "Do I know him?"

"Course you do. Small guy, wiry. Used to play with me when we were both in 'Rainbow's end'."

I clicked my fingers, "Yes I remember now. He's quite good isn't he?"

Jon nodded, "Getting better all the time. Last time I heard him, I was very impressed. He's a decent bloke too."

"Can you get in touch with him?"

He nodded, "I think so. I've got his number somewhere. I'll look it out and give him a shout."

"For bass guitarist, I was thinking of someone. What do you call him?" I shook my head, "It'll come to me. He played in that charity gig a few years back: Blues for Bosnia."

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, "Yes, I know who you mean. Ack what's his name?"

I took a deep breath, "Brian someone I think."

Jon nodded, "Brian Garrett."

"That's it! I wonder where he is now."

Jon blew out his cheeks, "He hasn't been around the band circuit that I've seen. Wasn't he doing some session music?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. How can we track him down?"

Jon grinned, "Tell Jools to get on it, she's resourceful."

I laughed, "I think I'll do just that."

"Owen Robinson," Jon said.

"Hmm? Oh for keyboards?" I replied.

He nodded, "He's good, versatile and dead on."

I nodded slowly, "OK, sounds reasonable. What's he up to?"

Jon rubbed his eyes, "Not sure. In some band somewhere. He's friendly with a mate of mine; I'll ring him and see if he knows where Owen is these days."

"Right well that sounds like we have enough to be going on with. Oh before I forget, I need to get you to sign this contract." I brought over the contract sheet with Jon's name on it and gave it to him. He read through it and nodded.

"Sounds OK to me," he said.

"You happy enough? You get twenty percent of the profits?"

He nodded, "Yes that's fine. It's not really about the money, but twenty percent of whatever is going to be a lot more than what I'm getting now isn't it?"

I nodded, "It is. Once the advance comes through, you'll get your first paycheque."

He grinned, "How much?"

"For you?" I shrugged and casually continued, "Oh a mere twenty grand."

He nearly fell off his seat. He laughed, "Twenty grand? What will I do with that?"

I laughed too, "What you want me to take you shopping to spend it?"

He grimaced, "No, it's OK. I'm sure I'll manage.
 

*          *          *
 
It was a couple of days before resourceful Jools managed to get a contact number for Brian Garrett and it was the middle of the next week before I managed to get him in. Jools had suggested she ring him, but I was getting a little bored and wanted something to do. I had to remember that he wouldn't know me and had to be careful not to give myself away. I hadn't really known him at all as Nick though.

"Hi is that Brian?"

"Yep, who's that?"

"Brian, my name is Cara Malone. You won't know me. I've heard you play once or twice before but we've never met. I'm a singer/songwriter and I'm putting a band together and I was wondering if you might be interested."

"Uh huh? What are you planning to do? Anyone else involved?"

"Well, you may know the lead guitarist, Jon Peters?"

"Yes, I know of him. Talented guy." He paused. I needed to pique his interest.

"Well, I've got a recording contract with Sony and I need a band together before we hit the studio to record the singles and first album."

"Really?" he sounded more interested now, "What's the deal?"

"Well, why don't you come round sometime soon, bring your bass and we'll play some of the material. You can see what you think and we can talk about details?"

"Sure, when?"

"Let me check with Jon and get back to you on that."

I eventually got hold of Jon later that night and caught up with how he had been getting on. He'd spoken to Kevin and he sounded interested enough to come round and see what we were up to. Jon had suggested Saturday afternoon, a few days away. He had talked to Owen Robinson but he wasn't interested. Even when Jon stressed we had a recording contract, he didn't want to know. Apparently he was trying to get a break as a singer himself. I sympathised as I knew all about that and would probably have done the same had I been in his place. Jon and I talked, but couldn't think of any other decent keyboard players at the moment. I rang Brian back and he agreed to come round on Saturday afternoon.
 

*          *          *
 
The money had now come through from Sony and Jools had arranged the transfer of my share and Jon's to our respective accounts. I had set myself up with a new bank account and credit cards under the name of Nicola Evans. When going into the branch, I had had the irrational fear that the assistant manager who was dealing with me would press the alarm bells and declare my ID fake. But that didn't happen of course. And so it was that on Saturday morning, Jools drove me over to the MG showroom to pick up my new car. It was strange to write a cheque for fifteen grand just like that and it was hard to believe that the shiny silver convertible was now mine. I drove back to Jools' apartment but took the 'scenic' route. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take my new wheels for a spin. It was a delight to drive. I fell in love instantly. I arrived back at Jools' place and parked it outside. I ran my hand over the bonnet and let it linger on the shiny bodywork. It seemed almost a shame to leave it outside. I felt like jumping back in and just driving and driving with the top down. But since it was a drizzly wet winter's day and since Jon, Kevin and Brian were coming over that afternoon, I had to put my plans on hold.

Jon arrived with Kevin just after lunch. Kevin was lugging his drum kit in. My instinctive reaction was to help him and Jon carry it in until Jon politely reminded me that the men could handle it. He made the introductions, "Kevin Noble, meet Cara Malone."

I smiled and shook his hand, "Hi Kevin, glad you could come over." Kevin was about my height and not at all well built. He had short brown hair and glasses and looked if anything, more like an accountant than a rock drummer. He had a sort of nervous energy about him and never seemed to stand still. He was always moving, be it his hands or shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hi Cara," he replied, "Delighted to be here. Jon had to twist my arm a little to get me to come, but if he had told me how lovely you were, I'd have agreed straight off." He sniggered nervously.

I laughed self-consciously and changed the subject, "Thanks. Look if you want to set up at the back of the room there, Brian Garrett, our potential bass guitarist should be arriving soon."

Kevin set up and in the way that all drummers do, immediately set about beating his drums incessantly. And very loudly. Jon picked up his guitar and went into 'spaced out guitar solo' mood. I barely heard the doorbell fifteen minutes later. It was Brian.

"Hello, Brian?"

The tall short black haired man nodded and gave a rueful smile, "That's me. You're Cara Malone?"

I grinned and nodded, "Sure am, come on in."

He came in and set his guitar case and small bass amp down. "Sorry for the noise from the rowdy boys. I'm glad you could come."

He shrugged, "No problem." Silence. He wasn't one for many words it seemed.

"Err well, do you want to come in and meet the others?"

We walked into the back room and it was all I could do to get their attention, "Jon! Kevin!" At last it registered with them and they stopped. Well Kevin seemed to keep some sort of beat going quietly in the background with the bass drum. I made the introductions and explained that both Kevin and Brian had come to see what we were at and see if they were interested. Jon and I had decided we would run through the three songs we had worked on last time. I got my semi-acoustic guitar and adjusted the mike stand. Jon was ready to go and we launched into 'No half measures'. Kevin of course immediately joined in with the beat and began to build up the rhythm. I sang as forcefully as I could, wanting to make a good impression. Brian stood to the side initially looking impassive. After the first chorus, he slowly bent down, opened his guitar case and lifted it out. He plugged in his amp and plugged the bass into it, adjusted his volume and then nonchalantly joined in. He had got the basic gist of the chord progression and added a simple bass line. Jon launched into his impressive guitar solo. I could hear both Kevin and Brian improvising a little and doing some experimentation. We brought the song to a close. That is Jon, Brian and I stopped, but Kevin kept hammering away for a bar or two. He stopped, "Oh sorry. Didn't realise we were done." He smiled nervously and then nodded a few times, "I liked that. Can we do it again?"

I grinned. His enthusiasm was quite infectious. I looked over to Brian, "Happy enough with it? Got the basic idea?"

He nodded, "Yep. Reckon so."

That was all I was going to get out of him so I shrugged and counted us in again. We played it through a couple of times. It got tighter each time. It was that unquantifiable situation where the total energy a band created was greater than the sum of the individual parts. I was buzzing. But I was also a little nervous as to what the two potential band members were thinking. We ran through 'Living life in colour' several times until Kevin and Brian got the hang of it. It didn't take them long. They were certainly talented and quick on the uptake. I laid my guitar down for 'I just wanna be me' and taking my mike in hand, began to roam around the room as I pouted and smiled my way through it. Again after a few times through it, it was sounding really good. Kevin had taken brushes and given it a real swing beat. Brian had taken his cue from Jon and added a blues bass line to it. I loved how it sounded.

"It sounds really good guys," I complimented.

Kevin was nodding up and down, "I like it. Did you write all these? Good songs. Like them. Variety. Good rhythm."

I grinned and looked over at Brian, "Brian, what do you think?"

He paused and pursed his lips and then slowly nodded, "Yep, good."

I hesitated, but that was all that was forthcoming, "Ah OK." I didn't know what to say next.

Jon spoke up, "Cara, play your love song."

I screwed up my face, "Don't call it that."

He shrugged, "I can't remember the name of it. Anyways it is a love song isn't it?"

I sighed, "Well I guess. I presume you are talking about 'Not dancing, but flying'?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Guys, come on over to the keyboard and listen to this."

I felt a bit intimidated as they all stood over me, but I tried to put them out of my head as I started the arpeggio style introduction. I closed my eyes and let the music slowly absorb me as I sang. I didn't have to put it on. The emotion of singing this song seemed to come naturally every time I played it. When I finished I looked up and smiled a little sheepishly, "I know it's a bit soppy and not quite a real rock song..."

Brian actually gave the hint of a smile, "Nice though."

I took this as praise indeed. Kevin was bouncing on his toes again, "Yeah, cracker. Great voice Cara, love it."

I decided to take this as the opportunity, "Well Kevin and Brian, you've heard some of what we are doing. Speaking for myself, I'd be keen to have you both aboard. You've both certainly got the talent and skills that we are looking for. What do you think?"

Kevin predictably was the first to answer, "Sure thing. I'm in. Things are sort of going nowhere with my current band."

I smiled, "That's great Kevin." I looked up at Brian, his expression gave no clues, "Brian?"

He nodded slowly and frowned, "Yes OK."

I felt I needed a little more confirmation, "You mean you want in."

He nodded, "Yep." That was all I was going to get.

"Well...OK...great," I smiled.

I heard a clearing of throat from the doorway. It was Jools. She spoke up, "Did I just hear that we have two new band members?"

I made the introductions and explained that Jools was our manager. Jools brought in the contracts and let Kevin and Brian read them. Kevin seemed to skim through it and then sign it without much attention and give it back. Brian however took about ten minutes reading it through a few times. He asked Jools a few short questions and then signed it.

"Thank you gentlemen," she said all business-like. "Now, we have received an advance from Sony and in accordance with the terms of your contracts, you are eligible for ten percent each. Would you like the cheques now?"

They both answered in the affirmative. Kevin expressively so and Brian quite passively so. They were quite a contrast. Jools handed them their cheques.

Kevin swore, "Holy..." He laughed and held up the cheque, "Unbelievable, this is great."

Brian's eyebrows actually rose in what was the most expressive facial movement I had seen from him yet. He didn't say anything but just pocketed the cheque.

"Thanks guys again for coming over," I said. "My plan would be that Jon and I work on some more songs over the next month or two and then we all get together for a few weeks solid before we go into the studio and work on the songs together. So I guess with your cheques, you've got several weeks of paid holidays between now and then. We are still short a keyboard player. Do either of you two have any suggestions?"

Brian shrugged, "Colin Henderson?"

Jon vaguely knew of him and Brian gave him the telephone number. Kevin thought, "Well there's Jeremy Patterson, but he may not be available." He thought again and began a little more hesitantly, "And I guess there is Noel Dawson."

Jon frowned, "Doesn't he have a bit of a problem with the drink?"

Kevin shrugged, "Word is he's been dry for a year now. Good enough player."

Jon nodded, "Well I'll work on those contacts and see what turns up."

Brian and Kevin packed up and said their goodbyes. Kevin's being more vocal than Brian's. After they had left, I grinned at Jon, "It sounded good. I think it's coming together."

He smiled at me, "I think you're right." He paused, "So we've got to get some more songs written then?"

I nodded, "Hope you've got some inspiration inside you somewhere."

He grinned, "Guess we'll have to find out."
 

*          *          *
 
I was still in the habit of getting up early each morning and going for a run. I had tried to persuade Jools to keep up with the fitness routine but, out of the reaches of Beth, she had regressed to her usual non-exercising, lying-in-bed morning routine. She resisted all my efforts to cajole her into joining me. She saw no attraction in getting up on damp grey winter's mornings to go out and 'freeze her ass off' as she put it. Me? I was getting addicted. I never thought it could happen to me, but it had. I loved the feeling of being up and out before the world awoke and having the fresh morning air nearly all to myself. Most mornings I headed out around 7 a.m. and ran about a half mile to the north and entered Wormholt Park. It wasn't the most beautiful of green spaces, but it was green and relatively free of the carbon monoxide that started to build up from London's commuters before long. I would do several circuits of the park, trying to either aim to do each circuit in less time than the one before or to do more and more circuits compared to previous mornings. That was where I met Kate. For a few mornings in a row, I had noticed that I didn't have the park to myself. There was a tall redhead running circuits also. It was Tuesday morning when we finally talked. I had stopped for a breather after ten hard circuits of the park and she jogged over to where I was stretching my calf muscles on a park bench.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Hi," I grinned.

"You've been running in my park," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Your park?" I said amusedly as I looked up.

She nodded, "I've had to myself for years and now you show up. I'm Kate."

I grinned and stood up straight, "I'm Cara." Kate was tall. About 5' 10" I reckoned, with shoulder length ginger hair. Strawberry blonde she called it as she later told me. She was bright-eyed and looked to be in good shape. She had a pointy nose and a quirky little mouth which created an overall very attractive impression.

"Pleased to meet you Cara. So you new here or what?"

I shrugged, "Yes. I'm staying with a friend nearby 'til I get my own place sorted out."

We chatted a bit more. Kate was a personal assistant in the city to some big-shot ego corporate manager as she described him. I got the impression that she didn't think much of him. This was fairly well confirmed when she called him an 'ass-grabbing lecherous toad' a few moments later. When she asked me what I did, I told her I was a musician. She was very interested and wanted to know more. I tried to shrug it off and told her I was trying to get a band together to see what would happen. We parted company before long and she said she was sure she would see me about.

She was right. Our schedules seemed to run fairly close as more often than not, I would see Kate doing her circuits faithfully each morning. We began to run around together. This was good at times as the competition of someone to run against kept us going. At other times it wasn't as good as our pace dropped off because we focussed more on chatting than running. I liked Kate. She was amusing, irreverent and had an aura of fun about her. I would laugh until I had to stop running at the stories of office life that she regaled me with. I had very little to tell her in return as most of the interesting parts of my life at present weren't for public consumption. I appreciated the company. I wasn't quite sure why, but when I thought about it, it was probably because Kate was the one person that I was chatting to these days who took me at face value. She didn't know my 'dark secret' and it was refreshing for me to have the opportunity to get to know someone by myself as Cara without all the extra baggage that I was carrying around in the rest of my life. I valued my morning exercise times all the more for it.
 

*          *          *
 
Jon had been coming over most days with his guitar. He arrived mid morning as he was another non-morning person. He found it hard to believe the change in my approach to the mornings. In fact he refused to believe it until Jools confirmed it for him. He had thought I was just winding him up. Things were still awkward between us. In a sense, the atmosphere was most relaxed when we were playing. When he had his guitar in hand, and I was singing with either my guitar or keyboards, it was as if the difficulties evaporated and a higher level of communication was achieved. We spent a lot of time playing. Not that much of it was extremely productive. But it was more about establishing a musical relationship where I knew what he was thinking and vice versa. It had been the same a few years back when we were playing together and it was coming back again now. It was that almost telepathic anticipation of knowing where the other person is going to take the song, what they will do next and going with them, taking the music to the next stage. Truly empathic. It was what I loved about playing with other people. I realised how stale my music had become over the last eighteen months. Playing solely by myself, the energy had dissipated, the force had gone from it. I hadn't seen it as it was a gradual process, but now I saw it clearly. Jon enjoyed it too. I could see that. Often we would just pick a key and jam and improvise. We would solo one after another, him on guitar, me on keyboards until we would bring the piece to a climactic end in a tight sharp ending.

I grinned, "You just can't beat this, can you?"

He laughed and wiped his brow, "Nah, it's something else isn't it? It almost beats sex."

I didn't quite know how to respond to this. Jon had said similar things like this in the past. As I frantically tried to think of an appropriate light-hearted retort to avoid the moment becoming awkward, the moment overtook me.

"Uhh sorry," Jon apologised, "well I didn't sort of like meant that."

I shrugged, "Don't sweat it. I know what you mean."

But it was too late. We were back into our shells and Jon would hardly look at me. It was the same each day when we would stop for lunch. Conversation was stilted with him rarely making eye contact. I had to try and almost distract him away from the present. At times it worked. We would laugh over old school stories, people we both remembered, people we liked, people we loathed. We would talk about other bands, who was good, who was crap. At times, it was almost like it had been. Almost. But then that imperceptible barrier between us would creep down like fog rolling down into a valley from the mountains. It was frustrating. The result was that we spent more and more time playing and less talking. This had benefits in that we were fast becoming of one musical mind. I guess I pretended that these benefits made the lack of real communication alright. But I knew it wasn't true.

Over lunch the following Monday I decided to confront the issue. Jon was doing his staring into space, not looking at or talking to me thing as we ate our sandwiches.

"Jon, it can't go on like this?"

"Like what?"

"You know what I mean."

He just shrugged, "What?"

I sighed, "What's wrong? When we're playing and singing, we're really connecting, I mean it is just clicking right into the groove. But when we're not, it's as if we're strangers. What is it?"

He shrugged again and for a moment didn't say anything. He dragged his eyes from the floor and looked at me. He turned round towards me and placed his elbows on the table. "Cara I just don't know how to be with you."

I was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

He frowned, "I just don't know how to talk to you, how to get on with you. Sure I can play guitar with you, it's almost like a reflex, doesn't require any thought. But I don't know if you're a friend, a mate, an acquaintance, a colleague whatever."

I think I understood what he was getting at, but I felt hurt nonetheless. I shook my head, "I thought we were friends Jon?" I tried to keep my voice from sounding pained but it sounded a little whiny despite my best efforts.

He looked me in the eye and nodded, "We were friends. Nick was my friend." He paused and shrugged, "You're not Nick. I guess what I'm saying is, I don't really know who you are. I don't really know you."

We sat in silence for a few moments, "OK. I think I understand. But you know it is still really me. Not that much has changed."

He raised an eyebrow as if to say 'yeah right'. I continued, "Well OK, a lot has changed. But what can we do to deal with this?"

He sighed, "I'm open to suggestions."

Softly I replied, "Are you?"

He whipped his head around, "What's that supposed to mean?"

I sat back a little, "I don't know Jon. I just wonder at times if you really do want to make the effort or if it is more comfortable for you to pretend there's no problem, almost pretend I'm not here."

"That's crap and you know it. Alright then, what do you have in mind?"

I thought for a moment, "OK, if you feel you don't really know me. Why not just get to know me? What do you do when you don't know someone? Chat, talk, and tell them about yourself? Why not start again?"

He nodded slowly and then wrinkled his brow, "It's all very well saying that. Easier said than done though. I just don't know how to treat you, how to act."

"Huh?" I asked for clarification.

"Well like, if you were a mate, I'd know how to act and get on, but if you're a girl I met, things would be different. I don't know where you fit in."

His words were seemingly innocuous, but they struck home with me. Where I fit in? He was right. If I could barely answer that question, what right had I to expect him to? Although I was enjoying the feelings and sensations of being the new me, there were a lot of things I hadn't come to terms with. I was still living in a relatively sheltered environment. I hadn't much of a clue about how Cara felt about certain things. If I didn't really know who I was, good luck to the rest of the world in working it out. Answers on a postcard please. I was staring into space and Jon interrupted me.

"You OK?"

"Mmm?" I said as I refocused, "Oh yeah, I'm fine."

"What is it?" he gently prompted.

I was about to make a glib reply that it was nothing, but if I expected him to be more open with me, it would half to work both ways. "Oh it's just that you are right. I don't know where I fit in either. I know on the outside I look the part and all, but being honest Jon, sometimes when it's just me, inside, I'm scared. I don't think I've done the wrong thing; I'm just not sure where it's all going. In a sense, having the record deal and all makes it all the more scary. There's a timetable operating here that means I have to work it out and sort it out fast. I haven't the luxury of being able to sit back and find myself. So it's no wonder you find it difficult to talk to me also. What else can I expect?"

He nodded slowly as he took it in. "I never thought of it like that," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I never thought about how you felt about all this. I was being selfish. I was just thinking about how difficult I thought all this was. I mean when I look at you, you look so together. You put on a hell of a good front!"

I laughed, "Is that a compliment?"

He grinned, "As close as I can manage at the moment."

He held out a hand towards me.

I wrinkled my forehead, "What?"

"Hi, I'm Jon Peters," he said.

I laughed and took his hand and he shook it.

He smiled, "I can't promise I'll not be a jerk any more, but let's give it a shot."

"Deal," I said.

"So any other ideas on how we can sort this mess out?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Well, we could try and interact on a normal social basis. Any good bands playing these days or anything?"

He shifted a little awkwardly in his seat, "We-ell, I was going to go down to the Santa Barbara on Wednesday night to hear 'Loud as Life'."

I brightened, "Sounds good."

He hesitated, "Erm, well I was going to go with some of the guys from the old band."

I read between the lines and tried to hide my disappointment, "Oh right, I see. Well never mind. Another time. Let's get back to some playing?"

I stood up and he slowly stood also, "Look. OK." I stopped and turned round as he went on, "Sure come along with me."

I shrugged, "You sure, I mean if you're not happy with it, I don't want to make things worse."

He shook his head and more firmly said, "No. Come along, you're right. We should just be normal and do things that friends do." He winced, "It's just that..."

"Just what?"

He grinned ruefully, "Never mind. Doesn't matter."
 

*          *          *
 
I had been continuing to take the hormones and the changes were progressing. My skin was very soft now and that wasn't changing any further, but I continued to notice changes in my figure and my moods. The former was pretty much pleasing, the latter was a pain. I had noticed that my waist was definitely narrower. I was rarely wearing my corset these days. A combination of the hormones, healthy eating, exercise and the long weeks of corset wearing had left me with a trim 26 inch waist. I was quite proud of it. As my waist had narrowed, my hips had correspondingly continued to swell. I was nowhere near the stage where I would be getting paranoid that my hips and my bum were too big, but I did like to think I had better curves than I had had previously. And as for my chest? It was full steam ahead. It was becoming increasingly difficult and more uncomfortable to wear my breast forms. It was a bit of a tricky situation. My own breasts were growing and developing. My nipples were becoming more sensitive. It felt so strange to stand in front of the mirror and look at them and hold them in my hands. But kind of nice too. I think I was somewhere approaching a B cup now, but I couldn't be sure. The problem was that when I put my breast forms into my bra as well, with the reduction in space in my bra, the forms compressed my own breasts and caused growing discomfort. But what could I do? Not wear the forms and suddenly have to explain to everyone what happened to my previously full bosom? These things were playing on my mind as I had my second appointment with Dr. Carson in a few days time on Thursday. I knew there was a solution to this problem and my mouth went dry as I thought about it. I would have to make a decision though.

I had adjusted quite well to my feminine appearance. I could quite honestly say I liked the way I looked. I mean who wouldn't like being attractive? I liked my visage, my figure and the clothes I could wear. But I was realising there was more to being a woman than looking like a woman, talking like a woman and acting like a woman. It reminded me of that conversation at my old kitchen table with Jools. It seemed like years ago, but in reality it was only a few months back. Then when I had worked through the implications of what this step would mean I had realised that it meant looking like, talking like, acting like but also actually being a woman. The first three I thought I had licked now. The problem was that I had no idea how to manage the fourth aspect. I had thought it would sort of naturally follow on, but I was finding that it wasn't quite that easy. I could put on the good front as Jon called it. I could do it perfectly outwardly. But what about inwardly? Who was I when there was no-one else around? Physically I was woman. But mentally? Emotionally? Even spiritually? Was I Nick in Cara's body, or was I really Nicola underneath it all? I supposed that it was only natural to have some doubts. But I didn't feel that I could talk about it with anyone. I had to present the assuredness and confidence in what I was doing. Had I done it so well that I had bluffed myself? I didn't really think so.

One of the strange things was my dreams. They were a mixture of realities, when I remembered them. Sometimes in my dreams I was still Nick, other times I was Nicola/Cara. I don't know if it was a subconscious projection of my fears, but when I was Cara, the dreams tended to turn into nightmares. The usual chasing scenes where you run away from something you never see. The fear of course was that I would be exposed for a fraud. I knew it was silly, but it did bother me at times. However in the cold hard light of day, when I rationally tried to think clearly, when hormones weren't ravaging my emotions too much, I still felt I was doing the right thing and taking the right path. I needed to know this because as each day passed, I moved further and further away from Nick and became more and more of this new person. I suppose it was only natural not to know exactly who I was yet or what I would be like at the end of it all. But it wasn't easy. I decided to put all this over introspection out of my head and focus my mind on something much more practical: what was I going to wear on Wednesday night?
 

*          *          *
 
"Hi Claire," I said as she answered the phone at the other end.

"Oh hi...Nic-ola. How are you?" she said brightly after a moment's initial hesitation.

"Pretty good, you?"

"I'm fine. Work sucks, it's January, but apart from that, grand. What have you been up to?"

"Well trying to put a band together I suppose," I replied.

"How's it going? Anyone good? Anyone I know?"

"Yeah, not too bad. They are all pretty good. We still need a keyboard player though. Only one you might remember is Jon Peters."

"Jon Peters," a pause, "Wait wasn't he originally from Pembroke? In your class at school once?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Wow. Isn't that a bit weird? What if he finds out about you know...you?"

"He knows."

"You told him?"

"He worked it out, but I would have told him."

"Is he OK with it?" she asked.

"Umm, hard to say. Things aren't exactly peachy, but we'll sort it out I guess. Anyway, how're Mum and Dad?"

"You should phone them yourself Nicola."

"I know, I will. Have you been talking to them?"

She sighed, "Yes. If you want to know if they have suddenly taken a shine to the fact that they seem to have a new daughter, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

"Yeah, well I hadn't really been counting on that. Are they keeping OK?"

"Oh they're fine. Do keep in touch with them though. I know it is hard but I think it will be better in the long run."

"I know, I will."

I think she sensed some hesitation in my voice. "Nicola? Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine."

"Is there anything else?"

I tried to make a joke of it, "What trying to get your only sister off the phone?"

She laughed, "No, it's just that you sounded as if you had something else to say."

I had. She was right as always. "No, nothing else. Just wanted to say 'hi' and keep in touch."

She didn't sound convinced but she let it lie, "Well OK. Listen, take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid you hear?"

I grinned, "Yes big sis. I'll ring you again sometime soon. Love you."

"Love you too."
 

*          *          *
 
Wednesday evening came and I was patiently waiting for Jon to pick me up. I had had extreme outfit doubts all afternoon and was presently in my fourth option. I had swung between over dressed to over casual having gone from a little red dress to blouse and jeans. Finally I had settled on a white rib-knit body top and my denim miniskirt and black leather boots. I was sort of nervous about the approaching evening. Not because I was worried about going out as I was or meeting people or anything like that. I was more worried about how Jon would react. I checked my watch. He was late. The phone rang: it was Jon.

"Umm Cara, listen my crappy car seems to have died on me and I can't get it started."

"Oh I see," I paused. I tried to make sure my voice sounded amused, "So is this your excuse for standing me up or do you want me to come pick you up?"

He laughed, "Don't be silly. Get in your car and make it quick. If you don't mind?"

"Mind? An excuse to take my baby for a drive? Not a problem."

I think he took me up slightly wrong. He sounded a little worried, "Err your baby?"

I laughed, "Jon, I'm talking about my car. Sorry to disappoint you."

He laughed and sounded relieved, "Oh gotcha. See you soon."

I checked my appearance in the hall mirror as I grabbed my black suede jacket. Hair and make up looking good. I grabbed my keys and headed out. 'My baby' was sitting waiting for me and as always it was a joy to feel the finely tuned engine respond to my every command. Jon shared a house with a few guys in the Camden area. It was about 5 miles away and at this time of the evening, it was only about a ten minute journey. I did it in seven.

Having beeped my horn a few times with no response, I parked at the side of the road and went up and rang the doorbell a few times. A few minutes later, the door opened and a black haired guy looked out, "Hello?" He looked at me and then opened the door wider. "Well hello," he smiled.

I smiled a little unsurely, "Umm, is Jon Peters there?"

His expression fell a little, "Ah yeah. Sure come on in."

I waited at the bottom of the stairs while he bounded up them to get Jon. I realised why the horn pumping had been ineffective. The sounds of heavy guitar music were permeating the house. Jon came down the stairs with the guy who had let me in. They were talking and I picked up some of it. Jon looked irritated and hissed at him, "Yeah look sure, I'll see what I can do."

He turned his attention to me and blinked, "Hey Cara."

I smiled, "Hi Jon, ready to go?"

"Sure, let's split."

When we got into the car, I asked him about what his housemate had said. Jon laughed, "You don't want to know."

I grinned and throwing the car into first roared off down the street, "You realise that saying that usually makes a person want to know all the more."

He regarded me with a grin, "You really want to know?"

I nodded, "Sure."

He nodded, "Alright then. He asked me if you were my girlfriend. I said no. Then he asked if you were seeing anyone. I said I didn't think so, but do correct me if I'm wrong. Then he asked if I could set him up with a date with you."

"Oh," I replied not knowing what else to say. I felt myself flush.

He laughed and shook his head, "You did want to know."

I grinned ruefully, "That's me learnt my lesson for being nosy."

He looked out the window thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Look I know it's none of my business and feel free to tell me to get stuffed OK? But it might be kind of helpful if you were able to give me an indication of how you feel about this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

"Well you know. Guys. Interested in you." He gestured to me vaguely, "Cos you know, the way you look, it's going to be a recurrent problem. Don't get me wrong, I'm not prying, but if you are interested that's fine. If not, then I know to discourage them."

I felt very uncomfortable. "Umm yeah Jon, I see what you mean. I guess you can take it that I'm not interested in guys. Best not to complicate things any further."

He nodded and thankfully changed the subject, "You do realise that I faked the whole car breakdown thing so I could get a ride in your baby don't you? Can I have a drive?"

I laughed, "Not on your life!"
 

*          *          *
 
By the time we got the car parked and arrived at the Santa Barbara in Soho, we were late and the band was about to start. It took Jon a minute or two to spot his friends. As we made our way over to them, he whispered in my ear, "Listen, these guys are a little rough and ready. Don't be surprised if they are a little forward. Don't worry though, they are all talk really."

I was a little disconcerted but smiled and nodded nonetheless. "Hey Jon!" "Mate!" "'Bout time." Various greetings exchanged, handshakes, high fives and the like. From having been around the music scene I knew the type of these guys. Heavy guitar music and correspondingly heavy drinking. There were five of them and two of them had girls with them. One guy with a moustache nodded at me, "Jon, who's the looker? Didn't know you got a new chick."

I tried not to react and bit my tongue knowing it wouldn't achieve anything anyway. Jon shrugged, "Nah, she's just a friend. Guys this is Cara. Cara meet Bobo, Lenny, Dirk, Harry and Nads."

I nodded and smiled to them all then wrinkled my brow, "Nads?"

This provoked a round of laughter. Jon looked a little embarrassed, "Yeah, no-one can remember his real name. It's not too nice a nickname; I'll tell you later what it is short for."

"I think I can work it out," I assured him.

"Wahey," said the one called Dirk, or was it Lenny? "Smart as well as good looking. Fine if you like that, not for me though." He patted the leg of his girlfriend who was smart enough to realise she was being run down and she elbowed him in response. The sparkling conversation was cut short though as the band was introduced. There was only one seat left. I noticed that one of the girls was already sitting on Harry's knee. Bobo shouted over, "Cara honey, you can sit on my knee if you want." I was about to reply when he continued, "But only as long as you can handle the pole vault." He winked.

I tried to keep the distaste from my face and just smiled politely at him as I gave him a one-fingered response. This made him laugh all the more. "I'll sit on the floor," Jon murmured.

"You can't sit on the floor, there's no room. It's filthy and you won't see a thing. Come on, I'll have to sit on your knee."

He looked awkward, "Umm, you sure about that?"

I looked at him, "I promise not to bite. But if you can't abide the thought of it, I'll have to go sit on Bobo's knee then." That did the trick. He smiled sheepishly and sat down. I sat down on his knee and perched myself sideways so he could see.

'Loud as life' certainly lived up to their name. What they lacked in finesse and quality they made up for in noise and quantity. It was formula heavy guitar rock stuff. Some of it was alright, but I soon got bored of it. Plus I was getting a little uncomfortable sitting on Jon's knee. I was sitting bolt upright and trying not to put too much weight on him. It would have been fine if I had put my arm around his neck and settled in, but I reckoned neither of us would be too happy with that. They played for just over an hour and after a fortunately short encore, they were gone. The guys we were with raved enthusiastically about the music. I reserved my own opinion. More drink was consumed, more lewd comments and generally uninteresting conversation.

"So Jon," Harry said, "You're seriously leaving the band? I mean dude, you rock. We need you. So who'd you say you're playing with now?"

Jon shifted awkwardly underneath me, "Umm well actually Cara and I are putting a band together."

The guys found this hilarious. Harry laughed heartily, "No shit man. You're playing music with this chick?"

I was pissed off now and knew I should have kept quiet, "Yes, I needed a good lead guitarist and Jon needed a new challenge. And I can see why."

Bobo snorted, "Challenge my ass. More like challenged as to how he can get into your pants. So Jon mate seriously, why go play for a chick? She giving you good head or summat?"

Jon gently lifted me to my feet and he stood also. I was a little worried as to what he was going to do, but he replied calmly, "Guys, she's right. I've had enough of this crap. Come on Cara, let's go." We walked away to a chorus of jeers and catcalls.

Once outside, I apologised, "Sorry Jon, I should have kept my mouth shut. In fact, I shouldn't have come with you."

He shrugged, "No, it's not your fault. They're all jerks. I've been trying to deny it for months, but there's no point. I'm sorry you had to hear talk like that."

"I've heard it before. But it is a little strange being on the other side of it I'll admit."

I dropped him off and drove back to Jools' place. So much for trying to have a relaxing social night out to ease the tension between Jon and me. With all the comments and goings on, it would probably make things far worse.

---