I came round in hospital; my mother was holding one hand, Sandy the other. My dad was lying on the next cot, mum was holding his hand too — he had drips in his arm and a bandage round his head. He looked like he’d been knocked about a bit — he had black eyes and a cut on his cheek.

“Dad!” I cried out when I saw him. Mum gripped my hand and so did Auntie Sandy, “He’s going to be fine — he’s been beaten up a bit but he’s Ok.”

Suddenly I was aware of what I was wearing. A nightie. I closed my eyes and swallowed -I looked at my chest. My constricting garment was obviously not on my body.

“They cut off your clothes when you were in A&E,” Mum looked down at me with a look of compassion, “don’t worry, Sandy has told me all about it.”

Tears started at the back of my eyes, I felt ashamed that I’d not told my own family.
“It’s ok, you told the twins and Sandy, you just wanted to be safe before you told us.”
Mum squeezed my hand.

“Why did that man kidnap Daddy?” I asked, then suddenly aware I’d used daddy as a noun.

“There’s a bit of Irony there; Daddy had to foreclose on his mortgage because he wasn’t paying; he’d been given a chance, but he was gambling and instead of getting help he tried to win back what he’d lost. It never works.
It was actually his house before, which was why he had the keys. His wife divorced him and he lost his job — he just cracked under the strain. He wanted to punish someone — he thought Daddy was the person who had caused all his trouble.” Mum recounted the story.

“So what is all this with you, is this what I am to expect now? Sandy said you’ve made a decision about your future already?” She looked both concerned and anxious, “no need to blush missy!” she chided, “seems a bit late for that eh?” The look she gave me was guarded, there was a look of fear and uncertainty — well outside the comfort zone.

I blanched then blushed to my roots. I looked at mum again to see what sort of reaction she was disposed towards. She seemed to gather herself and put on a face of calm and accepting. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. There was little I could do to avoid the runaway road roller.

Mum looked down at me and sighed, “I’m not sure I can condone the method of your self administered drug regime, but the blood test they took came back quite well balanced. More by luck than judgment I think.” She looked chagrined. She put her head back and took a deep breath

“I reckon I could get used to having a girl.” She continued after a while, “There’s a lot of things I’ll get to do that I never would with a son!” She tried to smile down at me, the smile slipping into trepidation

Dad groaned — I looked over at him. “Does he know?” I winced at the thought of him seeing me naked. The tension in my leg making me wince even more.
“How bad is my leg? It’s burning and throbbing a bit, like it’s been stung by wasps.”

“Which do you want me to answer first?” She looked at me, I was agitated, shaken but not stirred . “Leg will have two tiny scars, you’ll still look fine in a bikini…” I blushed.

“Oh yes, Dad, he was awake when they cut the bandage off!” Mum smirked at Sandy, “I think I can safely say that he was wide awake for a minute or two after seeing your ‘attributes’ on display!”

I blushed anew, “Oh God, what did he say? Was he angry?” I was looking over at him at his bruised and swollen face and the bandage.

“Of course when Brad” my eyes started out of my head “Brad started cutting the vest off, we couldn’t understand why you’d be wearing such a tight vest. Then we realised what was under it. To answer your question though, no, he was sort of disappointed and hurt more than anything. So was I” I could see mum was holding back tears. “Why darling? why couldn’t you have told us?”

My eyes flicked from Sandy to mum and back. I took a deep breath. “Well to be honest, it was because you’re too law abiding.” Mum frowned.

“How does that affect what you did, what you risked without telling us?” More agitated now.

“I imagined a scenario, where I told you the truth.” I began. I paused to frame the story. “ I come to you, ‘mummy I’m a girl inside, I need to be allowed to be me.” I watched her face as she imagined it. “Your reaction would be first, incredulity, then guilt, then denial, then you’d tell me I was being silly.” I was watching as those emotions crossed her face.

“No darling, we’d have listened.”

“What - like you listened when I said I didn’t want to go to that school?” I shot back. The look on mum’s face was stricken. “Sorry, that was unfair.”

“Actually it wasn’t unfair, we didn’t listen did we? We took the word from the therapist and ignored what you wanted. For that, I’m really sorry.” Mums face was introspective like she was rewriting the part of the scenario.

“Anyway, back to the scenario. After a bit of denial, you’d have seen the therapist and he’d have said ‘there’s nothing I can do until Richard is 18’. By which time I’d have a male physique, a male head, a beard and no chance to be a normal girl. Do you realise how restrictive the law is? The therapist does know because I told him …” I glanced at them both and they looked a bit shocked, “and he told me he wouldn’t refer me to a gender shrink until I was 16. Which is next week anyway. And they’d mess me about for a year so I’d be no better off. This was over a year ago, that I told him”

I lay back as a wave of pain made me uncomfortable. Dad groaned and tossed about a bit but didn’t wake. Mum and Sandy absorbed the diatribe I’d just spouted. It looked like mum was about to say something a couple of times. Then she abruptly sat down on the chair that was behind her.

“Oh God, you’re absolutely right — we would have believed the therapist just the same way we already have. We’d have allowed him to ruin your youth and you would have been so bitter.” She shuddered as tears leaked between her closed eyelids. Sandy walked round my bed and stood behind mum and put her arms round her protectively.

“Rich took responsibility for his own actions and I have to say it was irresponsible but probably for the best in the long run. There appear to be things wrong with the system that we can’t change.”

For a minute or two we were silent, I was aware suddenly that my father was looking through one open eye at me.

“Hello everyone, I appear to have missed something?” his voice sounded a bit muffled like he was talking through a mouthful of cotton wool. I expected him to say, “I could have been a contender,” but I guess the situation called for more gravity.

I looked at him as he shifted a bit so he could look at me better. “I was listening to your scenario, you got one thing wrong,” he swallowed painfully.

“What was that dad?”

“You missed out the bit about me shouting that we knew best and you should do as you’re told and stop being a clever bugger.” He licked his cracked lips and winced. “Could I get a drink, please?”

Suddenly mum came to life and rushed round to him. “How are you feeling darling?”

“All shook up,” he tried to grin and winced again. Mum fed him a straw and he sucked on it to slake his thirst — good job it was sitting in a glass of water or it wouldn’t have worked.

“All of a sudden it doesn’t seem as important as it might have done two days ago.” He lay back and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m lying next to a heroine, a young person who not only worked out where her kidnapped father was, but used what resources were available, contacted a bunch of police who were totally inept and when they didn’t show, went out and single handed, tackled the kidnapper who was beating her father to a pulp, saving his life at the risk of her own. ….. I think that means our child is not only grown up, but certainly able to make any and all decisions about her own life.”

The tears in my eyes were now of joy rather than guilt and pain. Dad looked grieved, he’d lost his pride and joy. Rebecca had stolen him. He looked away for a minute mum dabbed at his eyes with a tissue. He looked back at me with a tender but bruised smile — it was the most incredible display of bravery I’d ever seen.

“Rich… that’s stupid, we can’t call you Richard,” mum looked at dad and said, “I think our daughter can name herself under the circumstances.”

“Rebecca Dianne.” I whispered.

“Dianne was your great gran’s name,” mum smiled, “you knew that, I told you years ago; you asked me. Have you known so long?” Mum’s eyes were round as saucers.

“I’ve always known. I thought it wise not to say, until I could do something about it. I wanted to tell so much, but it was impossible — right from the earliest time, I knew that it was not something you spout about. Remember when I was about 4 mum? I said, ‘when do I get to be a girl like Angie and Sarah?’”

“I said, you don’t get to be a girl, stop being silly. I remember you asking — I thought it was silly that you didn’t know that boys didn’t turn into girls — seems I was wrong.”
No, I don’t think you’re wrong, I was always a girl.”

We sat around after that just passing time as we recovered.
Mum looked the worst — her eyes were haunted, but she was at peace. She had hold of each of our hands and Sandy was behind her with her hands draped over her shoulders.
Dad had slipped back into a recuperative sleep he looked ghastly and it looked worse by the minute as his bruises came to the fore and his face swelled more. He groaned when he moved, it wasn’t only his face that was bruised. Now and then he moved in a dream. His actions those of someone being thrashed — trying to escape, cowering almost. His dreams were reliving the episode and were part of getting over it — It wasn’t easy to watch. Mum tended him as he sweated in his torture. We moved as a family, each tending to the other’s needs.

Eventually he drifted into deeper sleep and we were able to relax from our torture of watching him.

The doctor came round presently, with Brad who grabbed my clipboard and said, “this patient is not to be released — she has to be sectioned under the mental health act.” He had a huge grin on his face so we knew he wasn’t serious.

He came over and put his hand on my shoulder.

“When I saw you and Ted come in with a police escort, I was just so glad you were not badly hurt —the ambulance had radioed in and said non life threatening injuries to you and Ted but severe head trauma and puncture wounds to the other guy , I thought you must have stabbed him. Then I saw the condition you were all in and I nearly let the other guy suffer to get to you two first.” He laughed gently.

“Then I thought I’d better get the suspect into surgery — he had some very serious injuries. He’s in intensive care — what did you hit him with?” He was half serious asking.

“Me, - he actually came out of the front door at a run and ran smack into me. We fell off the steps into the garden — I landed on him.” I was suddenly worried. “I won’t get charged with assault or anything will I? He can’t sue me or anything?”

Sandy shook her head, “You might get a bravery award, that’s about it — oh the police might want a statement about it but that can wait, I can swear an affidavit if need be.”

“I have to say you looked a sight when you came in, you were covered in blood — with what looked like an arrow in your leg! Like something out of a wild west show.
When I checked you over there was just the one wound and it wasn’t bleeding much at all — it had gone through the flesh at the side of your thigh. All the blood belonged to the kidnapper. We’ve checked it- he doesn’t have any communicable disease so you’re safe. The cane we cut and removed — it was pretty clean as it was and the wound was very small but it did bruise quite a bit. What was funniest was,” he grinned and indicated my chest area. “I thought there’s been some trauma because of the blood so we cut your shirt off — Well you can imagine my surprise when I discovered… well what I discovered..” He grinned with a sort of embarrassed smile. “Sorry about the loss of dignity.”

I lifted the bed cover and looked down at the dressing on my leg — it was only quite light. But the bruising was showing both sides “Well I guess no harm done, it seems to have sorted one or two things out.” I looked at my chest before I let the bedclothes fall back over me.

“Oh about the blood test,” He looked at me quizzically.

I raised my eyebrows. “Uncle, you don’t need to quantify that, I’ve had a blood test this last week but haven’t got the results yet — I presume it’s a little unusual for a teenage boy?” I grimaced a bit.

“Before you go any further Doctor.” Sandy interrupted. Brad looked at her a little astonished at the term. “My client would appreciate any information to be kept doctor patient confidential.” Brad goldfished. Sandy smiled and said — “Let it be.”

Dad had come round by this time, he still wasn’t really with us but he was awake. He looked at Ted, “How about me? What did that bastard do to me, I feel like he’s been kicking me for days with hobnailed boots on. My head feels like a world cup final football — AFTER the match, and my side, chest and legs feel like they’ve been in a stampede ”

“Well you’re bruised all over and there’s a lot of small cuts and abrasions but nothing serious. Maybe a cracked rib or two, but we’re keeping you in overnight for obs in case of a concussion. He appears to have hit you round the head with something padded so there’s no breaks or broken skin” (We found out later he put a couple of bars of soap in a sock and used it as a cudgel). The abrasions were from the bindings and being dragged about.

We all relaxed — as much as we could — the duty doctor that had come in with Brad professed me to be fit to be discharged but dad was to stay in overnight.

It was nearly 10.30pm — so the whole episode had only taken 6 hours or so.

We chatted for a while and Sandy and Brad went home as Brad had finished his shift and knocked off

The hospital gave me some clean scrubs to go home in.
Mum had to help me to the car after we said goodnight to a groggy dad — they’d given him a bit of a sedative so he could get a decent night’s sleep. Mum’s sedative had worn off thankfully.

We felt greatly relieved that it was all but over. I looked at mum as she drove —she was biting her lip and her eyes looked startled. “You ok mummy?” I saw a tear start down her cheek in the light from an oncoming car.

She pulled over and turned off the engine.

“Oh God, what an awful day it’s been, I’ve never been through so much trauma in one day.” She shook and sobbed and I grabbed her and we hugged each other til the emergency passed.

“I’m so sorry mum. Honest.” I squeezed her arm for a reaction. She sat there a minute.

“It’s alright Richard, Rebecca, sorry. I’m just so happy we’re all ok — even more ok really than we were this morning — I thought there was something wrong with you and dad was missing maybe killed by someone. I was so frightened. My whole life had seemingly come off the rails, in one day — nightmare stuff ” She balled the tissue she’d dried her eyes with in her hand. “Then my amazing son finds his dad and saves him, stopping the criminal, then turns into my daughter — all in a few hours.” She smiled ruefully.
“I think I need a holiday.”

Mum put the car back in gear and we drove home. When we got there we were confronted with a load of people at the gate — fortunately it opened as usual and we drove in — it closed behind us and we left the reporters in the road.

When we got in the phone was ringing, but the interceptor was still doing its job and took the message — there were 37 messages on the tape — we didn’t hear them.

“Would you like a cocoa?” Mum and I had walked in the house arm in arm. Mutually supportive. We were followed by flashes but at that distance there wouldn’t be much to print.
“Love one, but I’ll make it.” I stepped towards the kettle but my leg wouldn’t answer the call and I had to let mum make it after all. I perched on the stool feeling a bit tender.

“My bike is still in Park Road,” I remembered suddenly. “I’ll bet it’s been wogged by now.” (English slang for thieved)
“No, it’s in the police station, the constable who came to the hospital when you were out of it told me. They’ll return it tomorrow… in return for statements”

We drank our cocoa slowly cradling it in our hands, we looked at each other — mum for the first time really drinking in her newfound daughters face; the daughter for the first time noting their similar features.

“Can I explain…?”

“Tomorrow darling, tell me tomorrow.”

We went to bed.

The next morning I retrieved the paper from the gate as mum rang the hospital to see if dad was awake.
The papers had a  ½ column on page 4 about dad’s kidnapping and a small picture of me through the car window taken outside the gate.

‘Heroine saves father from brutal attack’.

I shrugged at the headline, they don’t know anything more than they got from the police.

Quote/“The solving of the case was totally down to the actions of Rebecca” States the family lawyer Sandra Hurley. “She selflessly and bravely confronted the Kidnapper to save her father.
The police spokesman Superintendant Crisp stated that “the young person involved should not have interfered and put their life in danger while the matter was in the hands of the police.”/quote

My god he’s still at it.

“Smile Please Rebecca” I looked at the gate and heard the clack, clack, clack of the camera taking a series of shots.
I turned away, embarrassed by the sudden use of my new name- everyone on Earth knows already and I only told my mum last night.

“Dad’s ok and the doctor says he can come home this morning — he needs some clean clothes and stuff. He says he’s really stiff from the damaged muscles but he can walk ok.”

“I need some new clothes too,” I placed the paper in front of mum and pointed to the report.
“Oh, Rebecca already. That was clever of Sandy to make sure you were properly attributed. Yes, you’ll need to be properly dressed — wouldn’t do to have you in boy’s clothes for the paparazzi would it?” She grinned, more like her old self this morning.

“I threw out my clothes from yesterday, they’re all cut up and covered in blood” — they had given them to me in a plastic bag as I left the hospital. “I am a bit up in the air about getting some clothes to be honest.”

“Why? we just need to get you a pair of pants to replace your old ones.” Mum smirked at me. “Do you realise how long I lay awake last night planning your wardrobe?” The grin was wider.

“Mummy, nothing would suit me more, than to go out and be me. However let’s take this one day at a time eh? I haven’t got one thing that shows me as female.” I complained, thinking about my school ID and my bus pass and all that stuff with Richard on it.

Mum looked at me and then down at my boobs and then at me again with raised eyebrows,” No, but there are two things….”

We finished breakfast and washed up. I was just about to go upstairs when a light tap on the door and Sandy walked in with the twins behind — they just about mowed me down like a herd of stampeding gazelle. Pronking (like a horse pig rooting — I hope you know what that is) just in front of me to turn the ‘mowing’ into a hugging. “EEEEEE” the squeal was almost mind altering, like the whistle of a falling shell.

Once the hubbub had died down, we discussed what the order of the day was.
The twins were all for retail therapy but instead had raided their wardrobes for some clothes. Sarah raced out to the car and brought in three bags. They were obviously not groceries.

“Gently now girls,” Sandy admonished. “This could be very overwhelming..”

“It really isn’t Aunty,” I countered, “there’s no reason I shouldn’t wear this stuff, I’m shaped for it and I’ve pretty much been waiting for this week. Well after the weekend anyway.”

A slight nod of acknowledgement was all it took for my hands to be grabbed and me bodily removed to a place of more privacy for the girlish pursuit of Barbie Dressing.
I was not nimble on the stairs and the girls were impatient.

“This is fantastic, mum told us all about what happened — you’re so brave,” Ang hugged me and Sarah added, “and so clever too”

I was standing on one leg with the toe of my left leg touching the ground — I couldn’t put much weight on it as it was really sore.

“Right — first of all we need to measure you then we can sort out which clothes will fit.”

“Can I sit down, please?” I was hopping a bit — my leg was throbbing.

“Oh my — we forgot about your leg. Can we see?” Sarah helped me over to the bed.

“C’mon slip your pants down and let us look at the damage.” Ang hovered over me ready to help me.

I undid my belt — and hopped my rear off the bed and slid my pants over my derriere.

The bandage was about 6 inches wide taped to my thigh — the bruise was from my hip to my knee and black like a raven.

Both girls suddenly burst into tears, “That’s awful, you brave thing — it must hurt heaps. We had no idea it was so bad, we’re really sorry; we shouldn’t have made you walk up stairs.” Ang put her arm across my shoulder and hugged me sideways. I could see tears of sympathy in her eyes.

“Let’s not worry about the rest of it for now — Size 12 skirt — 34B top.” I said, “flat shoes thanks, size 6  ½ - I can wear my sandals if you haven’t something that will do”

The girls were a bit more subdued, I could tell they were a bit embarrassed to have treated me so off handed when I’d been injured. “Hey cheer up, I didn’t lose my virginity you know.” I tried to be a little chipper. It worked a bit.

“Which one, your boy or girl virginity?” Angie spluttered and went a bit pink.

“I haven’t got any way to lose my girl virginity now, have I?”

“Well your leg is WELL stuffed.” Sarah guffawed. She handed me a full circle denim skirt and a pink angora short sleeved top.
“These are classics and will look good even on a boy. On you they will be fabulous,” she added suddenly conscious of her faux pas.

“Wait,” Ang held up her hand, “I have here something she needs more than the classics.” She handed me a nice plain 34B bra, no wire, no lace.

“Try this; it should give you a bit of support and shape.” Sarah grinned.

I turned it over in my hand. “Um need a hand, I’ve never tried one on.” I looked down at it in dismay — I felt like a boy trying on girls clothes.

“Ok,” Sarah said gently, “no need to panic, this is a serious moment — a girl’s first bra.”

She helped me off with the t shirt I was wearing and the singlet, “Hold out your arms. No wait. You need to put it on yourself. Turn the back to the front first, then you can see the hooks and eyes.” She showed me —

“I know the mechanics of the hooks and stuff.” I countered — “just not the adjustments.”

Sarah was eyeing me up now that I was naked from the waist up. “Nice software.”

I donned the garment finding it awkward at first to work out how to get the fleshy bits to sit comfortably. Sarah moved in front of me and showed me what to do.
All of a sudden it felt right — and I was being supported properly. I looked at the twins sort of shocked — “It works, I actually feel really comfortable.”

“Well der…” Ang smiled and shook her head as if not believing the statement. “Do you honestly think we’d bother if they didn’t work?”

“No, I guess not.”

The rest of the outfit looked really nice and I felt normal for once. I had to wear my sandals — all the offered footwear felt tight or too loose. I really wasn’t keen on wearing someone else’s shoes either.

Angie helped me up to stand in front of the mirror — I looked fine. No amazing, but ok nonetheless.

Mum’s head popped round the door edge, took in the appearance of three girls and smiled — “Well that didn’t take you long.” She was about to say something else then stopped. “I’m going to pick up dad, do you want to come with us or wait here?”

“Wait here thanks, my leg is really not up to wandering through a hospital.” I was still taking all the weight on my left leg, and the ache was making me a bit spacey. “Don’t take too long, I really want to see him. I didn’t realise before how much his being around means to me.”

“Me either darling, I’ll have him home soon as may be.” Mum finger waved at us all and her head disappeared from round the door.

We heard the car move out of the garage onto the gravel drive then move off.
“C’mon let’s go and get a cuppa and some bikkies.” I said holding out my hands to the girls for support.

Soon I was sipping a nice hot coffee and surrounding a few hobnobs.
I flicked on the monitor at the gate and it was free of gawpers. We’d had our 15 mins of fame.