CHAPTER 31
Once again I woke up to the feel of someone’s arm across me, but a faint sighing of breath rather than the surfacing walrus that was Ginny in sleep.

So many conflicts in my mind woke with me. What, exactly, was I doing? Physically male, in a night dress, in a double bed, with a man who I realised was actually naked. More than that, a man who clearly cared about me. Even worse, I realised, was the fact that I sort of fancied him. Where had that come from?

I slipped out from under his arm, and he grunted a bit until I slipped a pillow back there, and headed for the shower, carrying one of the packs of knickers, a pair of the shoes and the dress that had caught my eye as the most likely to fit my current body. It was a pale blue print, with a shirt-style top and lace-edged lapels, and I guessed it to be around mid-calf in length.

“Carpet….” Ginny’s words came to me, and in a daze I found myself shaving my legs for the first time since I was a teenager. The shower was warm on me, and hot on the newly-bare skin, but I had only made a couple of small cuts, and I am not that hairy anyway. Drying myself afterwards just felt weird, but the knickers fitted, sort of, and so did the dress, loose enough on top to drape rather than hug, and long sleeves. I pondered on the possible reactions if I were to shave my arms, and decided against.

I slipped on the maryjanes and looked at myself. Pathetic. A man in a dress looked back at me, patches of beard shadow visible where Steph’s technician had not yet worked her magic wand. It would have to do, I had breakfast to make.

I crossed to the kitchen and started my work by filling the kettle, then halving some grapefruit. As the kettle boiled, I quickly gathered Eric’s clothes from the other room and put them onto my bed. Much as I was beginning to realise I wanted to see him walk naked to the bathroom, it would be rather less than fair. He woke as I came in, and looked embarrassed at the sight of my burden.

“Sorry, Annie, but I sort of came in here in a hurry last night. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, thanks to you”

“It was a bad one last night?”

I sat at the edge of his side of the bed.

“It was a really bad one. It was all tied up with the dance, and the roast dinner, and the announcement, and, well, the dreams are getting less common, but big events seem to trigger them. That was quite a day”

He grinned, and it was like looking at Dennis that first time, the instant knowledge popping into my head that I wanted him. The revelation was rather sparing on the details, but very insistent in its basic message, and I had just slept with him naked. Shit. His hand was on my shoulder, gently kneading.

“You’ve gone quiet. I was just about to say that Jerry has offered me a copy of the edited film when it’s all finished, and you tensed up”

“Thoughts, conflicts, the realisation yet again of how impossibly shit my life is”

“Dennis? You hardly made it a secret to the girls, and I caught some of your looks. He seems a good bloke, but looking at the way he was dancing with that girl with the huge nipples, I would guess he’s a bit conventional in that respect. Sorry to be so blunt, love, but it’s probably not the best way to start any change, getting told to piss off”

“You’re right, of course, it’s just I get all wobbly when I look at him. And look at me, aye? I look stupid. Why I did this today, fuck knows”

“I think you did it to tell the dreams to go away, Annie. To try and make some statement of intent, as well. When are you seeing your blood doctor?”

“Tuesday, ten o’clock. Then Sally has a slot for me.”

“Want company, just in case?”

“Can you do that?”

“I’ll tell them I am seeing the doctor, won’t be a lie”

I turned on the edge of the bed and hugged him, then screwed up my courage and kissed him on the cheek. “Kettle’s on, and I am doing some breakfast. Grapefruit and cereal, but if you are desperate I can do you a sausage sandwich, aye?”

“No ta, the grapefruit sounds fine. You know, I was right in what I said, now that I know what you are, I am astonished that we missed it for so long. There really is a girl in there, so if she wants to come out, there’s several of us who are happy to help in any way we can, OK?”

I nodded my thanks. “Bring Tabitha, can you? She likes to have breakfast in company. Shower if you want, I’ve chucked in a clean towel”

I dashed off to the kitchen to hide my tears, and to let him get dressed. It was scary; the more I admitted to others what I really was, the more she took over and spoiled my act. I cobbled together enough cutlery for the two of us, sliced round the edges of the pink grapefruit with the special knife that Ginny had insisted we buy and dug out the pack of sugar I had bought years ago and never used, just in case Eric wanted to spice up his fruit. Teapot, mugs, milk, cereal boxes, bowls…..why is it so much more elaborate when you have a guest? They probably eat exactly the same way you do when they are at home, off their knees in front of the telly, so why the song and dance? I put some Lisa Ekdahl onto the CD player, and finished setting out the breakfast. As I brought out the tea, Eric came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist.

“I’ll grab breakfast, and then if you fancy it we can get a few miles in while the weather is holding up. We could even go to Brighton if you feel up to it, that would give me a train straight back up to town”

“Ah, do it in the daylight? What the hell. We could give the girls a shout, see if they want ice cream on the pier. Well, knowing Brighton, but ice cream elsewhere and then take it to the pier.”

He grinned, and it was another wobbly moment. Steph was right, as soon as I let go of the pretence, I was lost.

“Swimming!”

Arse. I knew he would say that. “Not at the eastern end. I am not going naked”

“OK. Bring some sandals, the shingle’s a sod getting out”

Just then, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi Annie, it’s Steph, we’ve been talking at this end, and wondered what you were doing August Bank Holiday?”

“Why? Another gig? I quite fancy having an excuse to pose again!”

“You cocky sod. Sort of a gig, it’s the Shrewsbury Festival, and we, the family that is, make it a sort of, well, pilgrimage”

“Ah….would that be where you met Geoff?”

She laughed. “Guilty as charged! But there is an ulterior motive, which I need you to agree to. We have been going for a number of years, and I always enter the ‘open mike’ competition, and there’s always some bloody kid who plays something obscure like a bloody genius, and I lose out. With you…we might just have a chance to beat the little bastards. Four nights, camping, excellent beer, and a great atmosphere. Oh, bloody good showers!”

“I think I might well be interested, if I can get the time off. Hang on a sec: Eric, fancy a music festival August Bank Holiday weekend, in Shrewsbury?”

Did I just do that? He nodded.

“Folk music? Definitely interested, we can google it after brekky, see who’s on. I assume it’s camping. Train up with the bikes?”

I spoke back into the phone. “Eric is interested too, we can get there by train”

“Geoff has a van we normally go up in, if you want us to stick your luggage in there it might make life simpler”

“Definitely sounds a good idea, that would make getting through the stations a bloody sight easier, aye? We can chat about this later, see how we feel. Got a pot of tea cooling here, so got to go. Ring you tomorrow”

I had just arranged a weekend away with a man. So it involved the entire Woodruff family? It was still a weekend away with Eric. Arse.