You meant it for evil - 13 by Maeryn Lamonte “This week has been like heaven to me, right up until ten minutes ago. If you're going to chew me up and spit me out then please stop chewing and spit. I don't think I can stand another round with you.” Oh God no. He let go of my suddenly numb fingers and walked back up the hill. A chill spread through me rooting me to the spot, fixing a horrified mask on my face. No God, no, please no. The tears wouldn't come, they were frozen somewhere inside.

-oOo-
I awoke in my own bed without the first idea how I had got there. I was wearing a nightdress and my green ball gown was hanging on the back of the door, so I suspected that Sharon might have had something to do with it.

A cold, hard weight pressed own on me and a clear, stark memory of the last moments of last night stood in the way of any thought or feeling. I lay in bed, numb, immobile, uncaring, staring at the wall. Behind me I heard the door open and quiet footsteps cross to the bed. I was vaguely aware of Sharon peering anxiously over me, but it hurt too much to respond. The bed shifted a little as she sat down.

“Are you ok?”

Tears blurred my vision and it took all my self-control to prevent myself breaking down completely, irretrievably. I curled into the pillow. Please, just go away.

“If you're going to church I'll be leaving in thirty minutes.”

God that was the last thing I wanted right now. It was easier to control the anger than the pain though so I held on to it and was grateful. When I still didn't respond she reached out a hand and touched me gently on the shoulder. She withdrew it just as quickly. I didn't blame her, even I had felt the trembling where she touched me.

“Can I get you anything? A coffee? Some toast?”

Go away. I can't stand your compassion. Please just leave me alone. The tears were fighting for control again. Oh Sharon can't you see what you're doing to me, please just leave.

The bed moved again as she stood. No footsteps though. Why are you still here?

“I wish you'd speak to me.”

And say what exactly? The last time I opened my mouth I destroyed the best thing in my life and hurt the one person I care about more than any other. Do you really want me to risk doing that to you?

Anger again, tears subsiding, tide ebbing.

“Well I'll be back to check in on you later, if you're sure I can’t' get you anything.”

Pause, soft footsteps, quiet click as the door closes. I'm alone again; so alone, so lonely. The tears are coming again, this time I can't stop them. There is no noise just an endless flood.

-oOo-

It's later and the tears must have run out because I can see the wall and Jenny Doll sitting on a chair next to the bed. I pull her into my embrace. She's cold and hard like me now, and brittle, so easy to break. We lie together in silence Jenny Doll and me. I don't mind her being there because she doesn't ask me to speak, doesn't expect anything more of me than I expect of her. The tears are gone, the reservoir emptied. I am hollow now, a void that has no desire to be filled.

There is comfort in emptiness. Nothing good, but nothing bad either. I like it here, I think I will stay.

The front door shuts with a bang. Why won't they leave me alone? The bedroom door opens and there are footsteps. Rapid, purposeful, not timid like Sharon's. A face peers in close to me, concern written in every pore and wrinkle. What's Karen doing here? She looks up over my shoulder.

“I think we should call a doctor.”

Not more people. Why does there have to be people? Why can't there just be dolls? Like Jenny Doll and me. Empty and content. Safe from the hurt. We'll be pretty for you, but don't ask anything more of us, don't ask us to feel.

Karen's gone now and I'm on my own. I like being on my own. Empty room, empty Jenny Doll, empty me. Just leave us alone. Just don't make us feel.

-oOo-

Voices murmuring in the background. The doctor has been. He shone a light in my eyes and I almost didn't notice. Now they're talking. I can hear what they're saying if I try.

“How long has she been like this?”

“Since last night, about half past eleven I think. She was just sitting on a bench when I found her. I thought a good night's sleep would help.”

“Well you were right to call me. We need to get her to hospital...”

Not interested. I hug Jenny Doll closer to me, pull my knees in tighter. Where was I? Ah yes emptiness, oblivion.

-oOo-

More noise. Strangers clattering about. They pull the bedclothes back, they try to take Jenny Doll. I cry out. It's an ugly sound, harsh and raw, empty of meaning. Empty like me, like Jenny Doll. Give her back. I cry out again, louder this time and she's back in my arms. They ease me gently off the bed onto their gurney. I try to curl up again. They want me to lie flat and straight, but it's wrong. I cry out again. They leave me be.

Movement, noise. More lights and concerned faces. A sharp prick and slowly the world fades to black.

-oOo-

Beep, beep, beep...

The room is in darkness. Something has hold of my hand, but I can't see what. I look around. Machines, pipes, tubing. Where's Jenny Doll? Ah there she is in the shadows. I can't reach her, but she looks well. The darkness deepens, the world blends into the shadows.

Beep, beep, beep...

-oOo-

Beep, beep, beep...

There are a lot of people, I can hear them moving about. I keep my eyes shut and hope they'll go away.

“I don't understand, are you trying to tell me...”

The voice is old, a woman's voice. I recognise it. It seeks out memories, flashes them before my eyes. They bring with them... feelings. No please, I am empty. It's better to be empty. I seek refuge in the dark.

Beep, beep, beep...

-oOo-

Beep, beep, beep...

It's light this time and there's someone, a nurse at the end of my bed. She's writing something on a clipboard. She looks up and gives a start at my silent stare. She recovers quickly.

“Hello. Awake at last then. Can I get you anything?”

I look at Jenny Doll then back at her, it's as much meaning as I can convey, but she gets it. There's tube in one arm and another up my nose. They're uncomfortable, but Jenny Doll's here now. Are you alright Jenny Doll? Of course you are. You're always alright. I hug her to me and drift away again.

Beep, beep, beep...

-oOo-

Silence.

Am I dead? No I'm still breathing, I can feel my chest rise and fall. Jenny Doll is gone again, but a quick search reveals that she is nearby, near enough to reach. She doesn't need me though and right now I don't need her. It's light again and there's something about the quality of the light that says late morning. I can't move my hand. Something, someone is holding it. I look at the top of his head resting on my bed, on my arm. I recognise...

I flex my fingers gently and he jumps slightly. Slowly he raises his head, turns red, puffy eyes to greet mine. I know you.

“Hi.”

The voice is rough and scratchy, barely a whisper. I can hardly believe that it belongs to me. He throws himself on me, crying deep, heartfelt sobs. Somewhere deep inside I feel the stirrings of... a memory, a feeling, a memory of a feeling. I raise my hand to stroke his hair.

“I thought I'd lost you.”

Muffled words, spoken into my shoulder. Feelings rising like a gentle flood. Jenny Doll looks on impassively. Not disapproving, she knows my weakness. These are good feelings. They hurt but in a good way, like hands before the fire after too long in the snow. The tears are there too, but they are cleansing tears, gentle tears, washing away the horror and the memory of that fathomless, dark chasm.

He sits back and gazes into my face. Those lovely warm grey eyes, that half smile tempered by the all to recent anguish etched into every other line of his face. The flood is rising, filling me again and I feel... Is this too much, too soon? He drops his eyes to the hand he's been holding, takes it in his own, looks back up at me.

“We need to talk, but not right now. You need some rest.”

We need to talk. Panic rises again. Too soon, too much. Where's Jenny Doll? He senses my agitation. He bloody should, I'm almost screaming inside.

“Liz, no. Liz stay with me. I need to tell you something.”

The room is receding again. I am drowning as turbulent despair overwhelms calm hope.

“Liz I love you.”

The words are an anchor. Dark clouds falter on the horizon, a threatening storm grumbling in the distance.

“I love you.”

The waters calm, the darkness slides away and my arms are around his neck, sobbing loud, unrestrained sobs of sheerest relief. I've half-pulled the tube from my arm and a nurse has come running. She knows better though. Swift professional hands slide the cannula out of my arm then she stands back to let the healing happen.

-oOo-

It's later. Around lunchtime. Mike has gone, reluctantly, to shop for his restaurant and Sharon and Phil are there. We've shared our own tears and something of the old me is returning. Not the same, never again the same, not now, but similar. My smile is a ghost of what it was, but it's there and genuine. Sharon is using her voice to hold her own delicate emotions in check.

“I didn't know what to do about you, so I asked Karen to come back with me and she insisted we call a doctor. Lucky she has a friend who's a GP and knows she wouldn't call him unless it was an emergency.

“You were unconscious by the time the paramedics brought you in. They'd given you a sedative, but you wouldn't come round; not for days.

“We couldn't find Mike until the evening when we called the restaurant. He closed it, cancelled all the bookings and came straight over. He's hardly left your side since. We made him get some sleep, even to go back to work after the first three days. He didn't want to but eventually he did. But he's been here every moment the restaurant's not been open. Hardly eats, hardly sleeps.

“Phil called your brother. We found his number on my phone bill which came through the other day. I'd never have thought to look there, but you know, guys have their uses sometimes.”

She looked up lovingly at her man.

“Anyway, Glen called your parents and they all came down. I explained as best I could, but they didn't seem to get it. Your mum especially was confused. I think Glen and Lisa were beginning to come round towards the end. Something about how you'd sounded a lot like Ken when you called the other week. Oh not your voice silly, but the things you said, the words you used, that sort of thing.

“They didn't stay. Glen and Lisa had to get back to work and the kids and your mum and dad couldn't or wouldn't believe that you could be their son. I've spoken to Glen again this afternoon and he and Lisa will be down later now that you're awake.

“Oh Liz you had us so worried. You were gone for more than a week and even the doctors were beginning to wonder if you'd wake up.”

Last time I'd heard her voice, all I'd wanted was for her to shut-up and go away. Now the familiar prattle washed over me like a balm. Phil didn't say much, but his presence in the room was as welcome as Sharon's. I still wasn't ready to say much but the healing had begun and I was only sorry when the nurses shooed them out. I picked up Jenny Doll from the cabinet beside my bed and gave her a hug.

“Thank-you too for being there.”

I closed my eyes and drifted away once more, but this time it was to a peaceful, healing sleep.

-oOo-

“Is she's asleep?”

My brother can be such a horse's arse sometimes. The stage whisper was loud enough to wake half the ward.

“She was you dick, but she's awake now so you might as well come in.”

My voice was still hoarse from disuse, but the calm that spread through me felt wonderful; like the freshness after a thunderstorm. I reached over to switch on a bedside light as he and Lisa came forward to sit with me.

“So how can you be my little brother?”

“Well the short answer is a can't. Don't have the bits to qualify anymore.”

I nodded towards the middle of the bed and Glen shuddered.

“Ooh don't. I can't understand how you can do that to yourself.”

“And yet again the short answer is I didn't. If I'd known it was going to turn out like this though I would probably have volunteered a long time ago.”

His brow creased. Not often I saw my brother trying so hard to understand something.

“Does this have anything to do with that time when we were about, what was it, thirteen-fifteenish?”

“It comes into it yes.”

He was referring to the one time he had caught me dressed in our mother's clothes. He'd come up the stairs quietly meaning to surprise me. I'm still not sure which of us was more shocked when he pounced into my room to find me parading in front of my mirror.

He'd been really good about it though, backed out of the room without saying a word. I'd changed back immediately of course then knocked quietly on his door. He told me he wouldn't tell our parents or anyone else, but he hadn't wanted to know more. As far as I knew he'd kept his word, at least until today, but then it was all pretty academic now.

“That wasn't the only time was it?”

“You have no idea. I can't even begin to count the number of times I snuck into mum and dad's room when they were out. Hundreds, thousands maybe. It was kind of like a drug, always needing one more fix.”

“I still don't get why you did it.”

“It made me feel normal if you can get the irony in that.”

“No it just sounds f*#&ing weird.”

I turned to Lisa who was having trouble following a conversation with most of the relevant details missing.

“Lisa, as a woman why would you say you're so into clothes and shoes and jewellery and cosmetics and stuff?”

The question took her by surprise, but she rose to it.

“A girl's got to look her best.”

“Why?”

“Are you kidding? How are we ever going to get a guy interested in us if we don't make ourselves interesting?”

“But we dress up all the time. We dress up for work, we dress up for a girl's night out. We even go to the extreme of shopping for clothes even though blokes don't understand it and hate to go with us. If it was just about attracting a mate then surely we'd be more inclined to do something they enjoy.”

“I see what you're saying., I suppose it's part of our nature.”

I turned back to Glen.

“And for blokes the nature is all about bulling up to each other. Competing as individuals and as groups. It may have started as something we chose to do to improve our chances with the opposite sex, but it's become hard-wired into us.

“Me, I was standing in the wrong queue when they handed out brains. I've never been that good at or even that interested in sports or other things that blokes do, but girl stuff... It may sound kinky and weird, hell maybe it is, but I loved the way mum's clothes felt and the way they looked on me. It was like most of my life I was pretending to be a boy because that's what I looked like on the outside, then once every now and again I would sneak off and let my true nature out.

“Now I don't have to because I'm the same on the outside as I am on the inside.”

“And you have a boyfriend we're told. I mean yuk man, what were you thinking? Are you gay or something.”

“Why does it always come back to that question? Homosexuality means being attracted to the same gender as yourself. As Ken I always tried to go out with girls — made a complete cock-up of it most of the time mind — now that I'm Liz I'm trying to go out with guys and finding it so much easier. I'd say I'm more heterosexual than anyone else I know.

“Your problem Glen is that you're still looking at me as your little brother, only this time stuck inside a girl, when if anything I've always been your little sister but stuck inside a boy until this happened.”

“That's going to take a lot of getting used to you know?”

“Yeah I know and I'll give you all the space you need.”

“So how did it happen? I mean you must have found a pretty good surgeon.”

“You reckon a surgeon could lose me four inches in height, four shoe sizes and six stone in weight?”*

“Ok then, how?”

“You'll never believe it, I don't have anything you would call proof and I don't have the energy to argue it with you at the moment.”

“Ok, forget the proof and the arguing, but at least try us on the rest.”

So with a long sigh I dived into my story for the umpteenth time. One advantage at least of having to explain the same thing over and over is that it became shorter and neater. It didn't take anywhere near as long this time as it had with Sharon all those weeks ago and, to their credit, they sat through it without comment until I had brought everything up to date.

Glen sat for a while in silence shaking his head slowly and I was steeling myself for some facetious remark when he surprised me.

“It still seems too fantastic to believe, but there is no doubt in my mind that you are the kid I grew up with.”

Where had that come from? I mean I'd said I had no proof, and so far I had offered none.

“It's the way you speak Ken, I mean Liz. I don't know you as well as Glen does, but you have a very distinctive way of talking which I, for one, have never heard from another person's lips.”

“You're saying you believe me?”

They glanced at each other then nodded at me in unison.

“I don't know how we're going to swing it with mum and dad, but we're on your side. Gemma and Abby might find it a little odd too, but they're young and haven't learnt yet that guys don't spontaneously turn into girls. We'll find some way of telling them, but yes, mum and dad will be trickier.”

A nurse stuck her head in and gave us a stern look. Apparently they should have only stayed a half hour and it was already over an hour since they had woken me up. I felt the tiredness settle on me like a leaden blanket, weighing me down. Glen and Lisa stood up and gave me a quick hug each.

“Tell Gem I was sorry to hear about her tooth, and take a couple of balloons with you for them. Heaven knows I don't need so many.”

I was asleep before they'd left the room.

-oOo-

Karen was sitting beside my bed when I next woke. She looked stressed and on edge and had her head bowed.

“Hi.”

She gave a start then threw her arms around me.

“Oh thank God you're alright. I've been so worried.”

“Yeah, everyone's being saying pretty much the same, but I'm mending now.”

“Are you sure, you still look a bit pale.”

“That's probably because I've been drip fed for a week and no-one's brought me any food since I've woken up. I guess I keep sleeping through the mealtimes.”

It was enough for Karen. Ever the organiser and doer, she charged out of the door and more or less physically accosted of one of the nurses to demand food form her. She came back in looking more relaxed and her old self. I guess there's nothing like bossing someone about to relieve a bit of stress. I was on the verge of feeling sorry for her employees when I realised that I was one too.

“How's the campaign to re-clothe the world coming along in my absence?”

“We're doing alright, although your presence is sorely missed.”

“When's the next event?”

She consulted her ever-present diary.

“Er, movie premier. That's on Thursday.”

“Doesn't sound too bad. I'll have words with the doctor, but only if you promise to pick me out something I can wear in lower heels.”

“Done deal, but we listen to what the doctor says. I don't want to risk you having a relapse.”

The food arrived then and she sat back to watch me eat. I'm ashamed to say I left half of it, possibly because my stomach had contract with disuse, but more likely because it was so awful. Even the jelly was bland and uninteresting.

“If you want me ready for Thursday someone is going to have to smuggle in some real food.”

“What?”

She was back to looking distracted and I had a sudden flash of insight.

“You want to get out of here so you can turn your phone back on don't you?”

She had the grace to look sheepish.

“Go on, get out of here. I think I need to go back to sleep again in any case. I'll let you know about Thursday.”

-oOo-

By some miracle or chance I happened to be awake when the doctor did his rounds. He looked over my chart and flashed lights in my eyes, humming and hahing all the while. I waited for an opportune moment and brought up Thursday's premier.

“I don't see why not as long as you take things a little easy. In fact there are just a couple more tests I'd like to do and if everything is as I suspect there's no should be reason why you can't go home tomorrow morning.”

“Really?”

He chuckled at the newly kindled and poorly hidden hope in my voice.

“Anyone would think you didn't like it here Ms Raebun. No you're right, this is a hospital and it's full of sick people. As soon as I can confirm that you are no longer one of them it would seem prudent to let you go before you come in contact with something else that might necessitate a longer stay.”

I think it was intended as a joke, but either my sense of humour muscles had weakened with too much time in bed or it really wasn't all that funny. I gave him a smile that was only slightly forced given the prospect of my imminent departure and thanked him.

Dinner was served shortly after the doctor left and again I picked my way through the bland and uninspiring fair, thinking all the while of Mike's wonderful creations. I was becoming truly spoilt.

No sooner had I given up on the cardboard meal than Elizabeth and Cassie arrived bearing fresh fruit and chocolates. Oddly enough my appetite returned.

“Hey guys, it's so good to see you. Cassie I am sorry about Saturday. We'll go another day ok?”

She shrugged. There was something else going on here.

“Cassie what is it sweetie?”

“I was worried that maybe the reason you got sick had anything to do with the party, 'cos then it would be my fault.”

Where had that come from? I reached out and took her hand.

“Cassie that party was one of the best things about Saturday and it had nothing whatsoever to do with why I'm here now. Why would you think such a thing?”

She shrugged.

“I don't know. It's just that mum said you had an argument with Mike and I thought maybe he felt silly wearing those shorts.”

I was stunned. Elizabeth was too by the look on her face. I vaguely remembered something mum had said once about the inventiveness of the young minds of children in their pursuit to make everything about them, but I'd never suspected it would go this far. I pulled Cassie's unresisting body into an embrace, awkward and uncomfortable with my position on the bed.

“Cassie, what happened between me and Mike and what ended up putting me here were entirely separate things from the party. In fact if I hadn't enjoyed myself so much that afternoon it might have been even harder for me to recover.”

It was mainly the truth and it was the right thing to say. The light returned to Cassie's eyes and the promise of a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. A little bit more then to seal the deal.

“When I was younger I didn't get to enjoy parties like that one where I could dress up in a pretty dress and be just one of the girls. That's why my friend Sharon had the mad idea in the first place, and it would not have been anywhere near as fun without your input. Saturday may have ended badly, but most of it was such a wonderful day with two things especially that will make it one of my treasured memories forever. One of those things was the party, so don't you go thinking that anything you did that day that did anything but make me really happy. The other thing was my first time on the back of a horse, and you have my solemn promise that I'm going to show how good that was real soon. Ok?”

She smiled and sniffed away a tear. Of relief though, no longer of recrimination and regret. She went back to her Mum's arms. Her turn to be comforting.

“I had no idea you felt that way darling. I do wish you'd said something.”

I opened the chocolates and offered them round. Cassie couldn't decide so I gave her a little help.

“Can I let you into a secret? With chocolates, the younger you are, the more you're allowed so why don't you take two?”

“Oh don't tell her that, I'll never hear the end of it.”

And we were laughing like the good friends we were. Cassie took her two chocolates before her Mum could object properly and popped the first in her mouth. I dug in the bag of fruit and pulled out the obligatory bunch of grapes and started chomping.

“So I thought you had two children. Why is it that I only every see Cassie?”

“Oh, Darren's quite a bit older, has better things to do with his time than hang around with his Mum's friends.”

“I shall have to come visit you guys one day and let him know what he's been missing out on.”

“Please don't do that. Life's enough of a struggle without having a teenager moping about the house pining after one of my friends.”

The rest of the visit was similar, just two — no three — friends catching up. Half an hour went by too swiftly and it was with some regret but more tiredness that I allowed the nurse to chase them out.

Phil and Sharon came by later that evening for a short visit in which I shared the good news of my imminent escape. They promised to make arrangements. Otherwise I spent the evening browsing my way through some fashion magazines that one of the nurses had been kind enough to bring me. I was allowed out of bed for short excursions to the toilet and the lounge. Evening passed to night and the early hours of the morning found me sitting in a chair in the visitor's lounge.

All was quiet except a few machines in distant rooms beeping out a steady rhythm and the occasional footsteps of the night duty nurse as she made her rounds. They came closer until they stopped at the entrance. I leaned out of my chair and looked over at her.

“Ah there you are. Can't sleep?”

“I'm told I've been doing a lot of that recently. I also slept away most of today so I'm really not that tired.”

“I could give you something if you like.”

“No, I'm good.”

She came in and sat in the chair next to mine.

“I have to get back to my station in a couple of minutes, but if you want to talk...”

I wasn't sure I did. I wasn't sure what I wanted to actually say what was on my mind. After a short pause, she made as if to stand.

“I don't know what I should do.”

“I'm sorry?”

“All this, the reason why I'm here, I nearly lost myself in all that. I don't know what to do.”

She settled back into her chair and waited.

“I have a secret, a pretty big one, and one that's kind of hard to believe. One of those things you know you have to tell to the people you care about, but you don't know when.

“It's one of those catch 22 situations. If you tell someone when you first meet them, sooner or later you're going to meet someone you totally misjudge and then your secret is out there for everyone to see and all the shame associated with it comes home to roost. If you meet a person and decide to wait 'til you know you can trust them before you tell them, when you get round to it you have to admit that you've been dishonest and that everything you've built your relationship on up to that point is a lie. Either way you're damned.

“That's what happened to me on Saturday. I have so fallen for this guy and I know he feels the same way about me. He even told me he loved me earlier this morning — yesterday morning, whatever. But on Saturday when I told him my secret, he didn't believe me, he didn't trust me. I'm not sure he does even now.

“And I don't know what I should do.”

She leaned over and rubbed my hand in that cheerful way nurses have.

“I don't have an answer luv, except that I know problems always look smaller in the morning once you've had a good night's sleep. Why don't you get your head down and see what tomorrow brings?”

I smiled a weak smile and climbed to my feet. For all that it was pretty naff, I wasn't going to get any better advice at this time in the morning. I picked Jenny Doll off her perch and climbed into bed with her.

“What would you do eh? I'm guessing that you wouldn't let yourself get drawn into a relationship in the first place would you?”

I held her close and stared at the wall, waiting for sleep

-oOo-

Bright sunlight and a bustling ward invaded my dreams and chased them away. I eased myself out of my bed and headed off in search of an unoccupied toilet. Suitably relieved, I returned to my room to await breakfast and other horrors. My doctor had told me he usually did his rounds about nine-thirty and promised to try and fit me in early. I still wasn't expecting much so it came as a surprise when he interrupted me in the middle of a slice of toast. He only stayed long enough to give me the all clear which left me with a few forms to sign with the nurses and I'd be free to leave.

Except I didn't have any clothes. The only people I'd told I would be leaving this morning were Phil and Sharon and I wasn't sure how I'd left it with them. I didn't even have any money for the payphone. I was still sitting on my bed ten minutes later, contemplating a future living in the basement and stealing inedible hospital food, when a very flustered Karen arrived.

“Sorry I'm late. Traffic was terrible and there weren't any parking spaces when I got here. Here get dressed.”

She handed me a dress on a hanger and a carrier bag full of other necessities. The dress was one of the more expensive of the Elle-gance collection. I had loved modelling it for the sensuous feel of the soft fabric, but it was hopelessly impractical.

“I thought the premier was tomorrow night.”

“It is, but I thought you might appreciate something to help you feel special. If you don't mind wearing the same thing twice in two days, it'll do nicely for the premier as well.”

“Will I need a plus one again?”

“I've already arranged for Tarquin to be there.”

“As you like, but wouldn't it be best to mix things up a bit. I don't want the press thinking I'm seeing anyone exclusively when I'm not.”

She looked at me oddly for a second. I suppose there had been a slight hardness to my voice.

“I thought you and Mike...”

“Mike and I still have issues to work through.”

Again my response was terser than she deserved, but she took the hint and shut up.

We drew the curtains around the bed and I slipped out of the hospital gown and into proper clothes. It was like coming home and, as thought by magic, I was transformed from a sad little sick girl into a confident and beautiful woman.

Karen fussed with my hair for a while then spent a few minutes painting a bit of colour into my cheeks. By ten o'clock we were ready and I allowed myself to be subject to the nonsense that requires patients leaving hospital to travel by wheelchair.

The sun was shining out of a brilliant blue sky. A gentle breeze stirred delicate fabric against nylon clad thighs, sending a shiver up my spine. I took my first breath of fresh air in over a week and tasted its freshness and coolness with relish. How could I have wanted to run away from this?

“Do you mind if we make a stop on the way home? There are a few things I think I'm going to need.”

“Don't worry about that, Sharon did a shop for you yesterday; The pantry is not bare.”

I hadn't even thought about that. Doh!

“Actually I was thinking I could do with a computer, a printer, things like that.”

“Thinking of writing your memoires so soon?”

“Well I probably do have enough material for a book now, but no that wasn't the intention. There are a few businessmen and politicians who need to feel the pointy end of these rather elegant shoes.”

“Liz the doctor did tell you to take it easy.”

“I know, but that doesn't mean staring blankly at a wall all day. If I have something to do I'll be far less likely drive myself crazy. Again.”

Karen gave me a worried glance.

“You were never crazy dear.”

“You weren't inside my head last week.”

She spotted a mainstream retail outlet outlet and found a space to park up. Half an hour later I was the proud possessor of a new slim line, top of the range, ultra-light laptop in pink — I'd always wanted a pink one — and a decent wireless colour LaserJet printer scanner with enough paper and envelopes to mark me out as a danger to trees with any environmental agency. Karen carried the heavier packages back to the car, after all I was supposed to be taking it easy.

Back at the flat, she again helped me shift my burdens up the stairs and inside.

“Coffee?”

“I'd better not. I've been away from the office for too long.”

We exchanged hugs and she left me to my bare walls. My place was too neat, too stark. I unpacked my new toy while I waited for the coffee to brew then let myself into the friendly clutter of Sharon's flat where his majesty king Toby the whatever and his entourage were eager to greet me.

-oOo-

I'd bought a 3G dongle as a quick way to get onto the Internet but when the wireless picked up a nearby commercial hotspot, I put in my card details and logged on. It was more expensive than the 3G, but considerably faster.

A couple of hours later, with one hand full of cat and the other scrolling through yet another page full of information on London's down and outs, I vaguely heard my buzzer sound across the hallway. I closed up the computer and descended the stairs to see who it was.

I opened the door on a bunch of flowers with legs. Then Mike's face peered around the side and the world became less surreal.

“I went to the hospital but they said you'd already left. These are for you.”

They were breathtakingly beautiful, also way too big. I began a mental inventory of anything and everything I could use as a vase. Sharon had a few, but even then I'd probably have to leave half in the sink.

“Mike these are incredible. Are you trying to give me my lifetime's supply of flowers all in one go?”

“I brought lunch as well. I mean I'm not presuming or anything, but I was hoping...”

There were things we needed to talk about even if he wasn't being so charming.

“Well you're going to have to come up if only to help me figure out what to do with my deciduous forest here.”

He dashed to the car then followed me up the stairs carrying one of his ever welcome polystyrene boxes.

-oOo-

It took us half an hour to round up enough vases and assorted receptacles and to distribute the flowers between them. There were too many for my flat so, with Mike's agreement, I took a couple of displays over to Sharon's flat.

By the time I returned, Mike had laid out two plates of crab salad. I retrieved a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge and we sat down to a very agreeable lunch. The crab salad, as with everything Mike had fed me so far, was delicious. Just one more thing I was going to miss. I couldn't believe I was actually going to do this.

“Mike?”

“Hmmn?”

“You know what you said to me yesterday at the hospital?”

“I meant every word Liz. When I thought I'd lost you, it was like my whole world fell apart. I can't imagine life without you, you have to believe me.”

“I do Mike and I feel pretty much the same.”

I fought to find the next words to say. Mike noticed the silence.

“Why do I feel like there's a but coming?”

“Because you're very perceptive. Mike, what I told you Saturday before last?”

He stiffened but nodded, just once, reluctantly.

“You didn't believe it then and I get the impression you still don't.”

The shrug spoke more eloquently than any words he could have used.

“The thing is it is real and it's a part of me. It's going to keep coming up, and I don't think I would survive another experience like the one I've just been through, at least not intact. If we're going to be together, I need you to believe it.”

A flash of anger passed across his features.

“Why would you make an issue out of something as stupid as this?”

“Because what is stupid to you is very real to me. I can't pretend it didn't happen, and I need you backing me all the way with whatever fallout may come from it in the future. If you can't do that, then...”

I couldn't bring myself to say it. Neither could Mike.

“Will you at least talk to Phil and Sharon? I mean this isn't just a delusion of mine.”

“I'll think about it.”

He stood and walked to the door, paused, turned back to me.

“You know I really do love you.”

“And I you.”

He waited for more. I wasn't going to give.

“I'm sorry.”

The door closed quietly behind him leaving me with tears streaming quietly down my face.

I allowed myself to indulge the pain for ten minutes, then put it away for some time in the future, like maybe when I had to cry myself to sleep. I tidied up the lunch things, refreshed my glass and headed back to Sharon's flat and my interrupted research, the half empty bottle in my other hand.

-oOo-

“Hey girlfriend. What'ya doin' over here? Oh wow, what's with the flowers?”

“Oh Mike came for lunch. I think he bought out the entire stock of some flower shop somewhere on his way over. There were too many for my flat so I thought I'd share with someone who I knew would appreciate them.”

I offered her a brief smile over the top of the laptop then went back to reading.

“Refresh your glass?”

I held up my empty, only just now remembering the bottle I'd brought with me.

“Yeah sure, there should be half a bottle of Australian Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge.”

Ever the consummate hostess, Sharon brought back to glasses before pressing forward with the conversation.

“So are you and Mike sorting things out then?”

“Actually I think we split up this afternoon.”

“Oh Liz.”

I shook my head. I'd shed too many tears recently; time to be strong.

“I'm ok. One less distraction to get in the way of this.”

I wasn't ok, but I'd be buggered if I'd let it show.

“Yeah I noticed the computer. Cute colour by the way. What are you doing?”

I shut the lid and turned my full attention to my friend.

“Well you remember my frustrating début the other week when I totally failed to impress any MPs or businessmen?”

“I remember you telling it little differently from that, but ok, yeah.”

“It's time I set about impressing them. I've been putting together a plan of action that I'm hoping will mean they can't ignore me.”

Sharon must have sensed something of my feelings about the Mike situation, but she was also wise enough to leave it alone until I let her know I was ready to talk. She started asking questions and, as I outlined my ideas, offered a few suggestions of her own. It would take a bit of time and a lot of work, but I needed something to keep me distracted.

The discussion led to a dinner invite with more discussion, then a lengthy planning session over Mr Pinkie. Yeah I know most people don't name their computers, but then I'm not most people.

When I finally went to bed that night, I was tired enough that I fell asleep with barely a thought for Mike.

-oOo-

“Hi is that Bob? Hi it's Liz Raeburn, you know the yuppie you found invading the homes of homeless people a few weeks back? Yeah I was wondering if you could do me a huge favour. I need to talk to as many different homeless people as I can, which means I would like to join you on as many soup runs as it will take to meet everyone you know, and I'd like to pick your brains about other organisations who do the same sort of thing... Yeah, not so much a head-count as a comprehensive list with names, signatures where possible and maybe something personal to suggest each one is slightly more than a statistic... Yeah, I'm planning on presenting it to every MP who's even so much as tripped over a street-kid... It will be far more compelling proof than they've seen already that the problem isn't getting better. They should be more open to listening to my proposals afterwards... Well if they don't I'll post it on the web and send the story through to a number of national and London newspapers. The old 'any publicity is good publicity' does not apply in politics... Tonight? No I have something work related I can't get out of. How about Tomorrow?.. About six, ok I'll see you then. Thanks.”

The rest of the morning was spent on the phone as well, calling around various commercial letting agencies in search of properties that could be converted to my purpose, and which hadn't been occupied for a while. Lunch was a quick sandwich and a glass of water, then I spent the early afternoon calling the owners of the properties I'd identified and using my most persuasive manner to convince them to meet with me.

Mid-afternoon interrupted with the need to get ready for my public appearance, and for the first time I regretted the amount of time it took me to get ready. Karen had told me this evening would be a little different with the possibility that I might be asked to say a few words for radio or television, but once the film started the hard part would be over and I could enjoy a good bit of entertainment on the company. I'd even managed to wangle a couple of tickets for Sharon and Phil on the understanding that they'd be properly dressed — ie tux for him and Elle-gance dress for her. We'd all share the limo, but only I was expected to face the press.

Bath, hair wash and hair dry were mindless processes which I allowed my body to perform on autopilot while I thought my way through every question I could imagine and my answer. The dress Karen had brought for me the previous day had survived its time off the hangar so I wore it, as intended, for a second time. Makeup and jewellery were light — all the better to show off the dress — but as usual it took forever to brush my hair to the desired sheen. I found myself thinking of the time Mike did it for me and almost ended up in tears.

As before I was ready with time to spare, and spent half an hour chatting with Sharon and Phil before the limo pulled up outside. Tarquin was his usual relaxed self and made a favourable impression with the others. By the time we reached the cinema we were all enjoying a good laugh. As before I was first out of the car, then Tarquin and I led our small group up the steps towards the entrance.

“And here's the new up and coming fashion model Elizabeth Raeburn with, if I'm not mistaken, the same escort we saw her with at the Elle-gance launch a couple of weeks ago. Ms Raeburn is it possible that we are seeing the beginnings of a burgeoning romance?”

After our enjoyable trip over, the laugh came easily.

“Not at all. Tarquin and I are close friends, but not that close. He is extremely eligible, ladies, if you're interested.”

“It's good to see you on your feet again Ms Raeburn. I understand you spent over a week in hospital recently.”

“It's true, but I think the doctors were being overly cautious. I was chomping at the bit to be let out of there the last few days. If I may though, I'd like to take this opportunity to say thank-you to the doctors and nurses who looked after me. They did a wonderful job and here I am, as you can see, fully recovered and raring to go.”

“Ms Raeburn, there are a lot of people out there, myself included, who wonder what you do with your time between photo-shoots and catwalk appearances.”

“Well I do have to make quite a number of public appearances to promote the Elle-gance line, but it's true I have a lot of time available for my own interests.”

“Such as young men perhaps?”

Again an easy laugh.

“Maybe, but not in the way you think. I have a deep concern for the people, mostly young men, who live rough on the streets of our city, and am committing most of my free time at the moment to seeing what I can do to help improve the situation.”

“Well it's lovely to meet you Ms Raeburn, your dress tonight is quite spectacular. Would I be correct in assuming it's an Elle-gance creation?”

“You would indeed, and one of my favourites. Not only spectacular to look at but one of the most comfortable in my wardrobe. Actually you'll be surprised at how many women are catching on to the new Elle-gance line, this young lady for instance has one of our gowns on.”

I indicated Sharon and the camera swung round briefly to take her and Phil into shot. Behind them another limousine was pulling up and my interviewer was ready to move on.

“Thank-you for taking the time to talk to us tonight Ms Raeburn. I wish you well in your career and hope you enjoy the film tonight.”

Tarquin whisked me through the door and we were done working for the evening. The film itself was enjoyable, but I didn't think I'd be spending money on the DVD when it came out. Meeting the stars afterwards was something of a treat, and the leading lady — I'm sorry I forget who it was — was so taken with my dress that I ended up giving her Karen's number so she could — hopefully — place an order.

Back home Sharon and I chatted our way through the evening over hot chocolates. Tarquin had declined the offer of a nightcap and Phil had headed straight for his car as soon as we were dropped off. Work day tomorrow you understand.

Once again exhaustion overruled any tendency to think of Mike and I slept what my mother called the sleep of the just.

-oOo-

There followed a period of single minded focus. I hadn't expected to need to again so soon, but I started by shopping for clothes, settling on a couple of pairs of distressed jeans, a number of cheap but serviceable tops and a second-hand leather jacket. Suitably attired, I made a daily thing of joining Bob's soup run, working with the team to both prepare and distribute the food, marking each location on the map and speaking to every person who came forward. I wrote down the names of everyone I encountered, added some short statement about them — how long they'd been on the streets, how old they were, whether they had family, what they hoped for, that sort of thing — and asked them to sign next to it. It dragged out the distribution a bit, but most were content for that if that meant they got to stare at the pretty but crazy lady a little longer.

With Bob's help I made contact with other organisations around the city, and through them still more, repeating my survey with each group. There were a number of individuals who drifted from one group to another and ended up on both lists, but by transferring the data to computer each evening I was able to spot most if not all of them and eliminate the duplicates.

Weeks passed. Karen kept me busy a lot of the time with more public appearances. Since my first time on camera hadn't totally sucked, she found me a tutor who worked on improving my stage presence, then made sure I had more opportunity to use it. I gave speeches, quite often on topics of my choice which gave me a chance to tell people about what I was doing and what I was finding out; I appeared on TV where the in interview would often turn to the focus of my passion. Slowly, without realising it, I became more and more the voice of the street.

My feelings for Mike were never far below the surface, but the distraction of work and planning for the next move in my campaign prevented them from breaching. I did take some time out. Cassie and I had our promised riding lesson together, then became regular partners riding the trails around Epping forest. I asked Katie to run interference and make sure that Mike and I never bumped into each other in one of those awkward moments, but it seemed there wasn't much need as he didn't seem to be coming round anymore.

-oOo-

The day I completed my survey was a watershed in my campaign. I contacted the press and informed them of my intention to go to Westminster to present my comprehensive list of homeless people to the committee responsible for resolving the homeless issue, along with my proposal for a solution, then I contacted parliament as well to let them know my intentions.

I turned up dressed in my Elle-gance best and waited outside closed doors for the newsmen to congregated. No-one from the government was prepared to greet me at first, so I turned to the cameras and microphones and, on live TV and radio, put my recent training to good use.

“In recent weeks I have accompanied most if not all of the charitable groups who work directly with people sleeping rough on the streets of London. I have taken the time to speak with those people and have listed their names in this document. The government tell us that the homeless situation is improving. In my hands I have proof that this is not so, that instead of dropping dramatically over the last ten years as we have been told, the street population of this city has been steadily rising. I am sure that those members of parliament who are most concerned with the homeless issue, who are working their hardest to resolve the matters, will want to receive this information, because these are not statistics we are talking about, but people. Let me give you a few examples of what some of the characters I've met over the past few weeks have been saying.”

As soon as it became evident that I was not going to go away, that I had an immense quantity of information and that I was prepared to stand out in public and read it to anyone interested enough to listen, the attitude in the ancient building behind me changed and before long the minister who chaired the committee on homelessness came out to greet me. I pounced, keeping him off balance.

“Minister, thank-you for joining us. As you probably know from recent interviews, I have a concern to match your own for the young people on our streets. I have spent much of the past few weeks going to where they are and interviewing them, and have compiled a list of names here that show the actual number of homeless to be far higher than your own statistics suggest. I'm hopeful that this information will spur you to new action, to consider fresh ideas and proposals for dealing with the matter.”

“Well yes of course. Thank-you Ms Raeburn for your efforts. We will have to review your findings, but if there is any truth in the matter I can assure you we will take whatever steps we consider appropriate to address the matter.”

“That's good to know minister. Perhaps I can take this opportunity to present you with my own proposal in that respect. It's a little unusual perhaps, but will only require a small amount of effort and expense from the government. Homelessness on London's streets is London's problem and I'm hoping that, with a few small concessions from the government, the issue can be addressed by the people who live here.”

I added my plan of action to the papers I'd already handed across. It was as well thought out and airtight as Sharon and I had been able to make it on the evenings we had worked on it together. Her legal and research skills had dovetailed nicely with the small but growing knowledge I had of business and it seemed we were on the verge of something radically new but quite doable.

The press threw out a few questions, mainly to the minister who stammered his way through them before offered me his thanks and withdrawing, dignity perhaps a little tarnished but still intact. I made a brief closing statement, voicing my support for the government and my faith that they would do the right thing then it was over.

-oOo-

I indulged myself with a taxi-ride home, emotionally exhausted from the morning's efforts, and had barely given the driver directions when my mobile went off.

“Liz, what did you do darling? My phone's been ringing solidly for the last half hour.”

It was Ann. I gave her a brief synopsis of my mornings activities, eliciting a low whistle.

“I wish you'd told me ahead of time sweetie. I really don't like having to make things up.”

“I'm sorry I didn't think.”

“Well perhaps you will next time then. Anyway I hope you don't have plans for tonight because as of now you're lined up for a mainstream talk show interview at nine. I'm not sure where at the moment as both ITV and the BBC are bidding for you, and I need to talk to Karen to find out how she wants to handle things.

“If I were you I'd clear my dairy for the rest of the week too, as I suspect there'll be a few more offers in the pipeline. Wear something nice tonight won't you dear? I'll arrange for a car to pick you up at eight.”

*1 stone = 14 pounds so 6 stone = 84 pounds or 38 kg