CHAPTER 5
So that was my life. It was odd, the way the euphoria came and went. I had opened the door–it couldn’t stay open---yes it could…

There were so many things I had to address, and every time I thought of what lay ahead they seemed to breed. I wanted to throw caution to the winds one moment, and then hide in a bottle the next. Nothing would be easy, I knew that, but the fear came in waves. It wasn’t just for me, but for everyone I knew. Karen had shown me that I had plenty of friends who would accept me as I did whatever I could with my life, but I was still left with Siobhan and my mother. My thoughts on both of those left me feeling ashamed, as I intended, in effect, to dump Siobhan, and as for Mam, the only thing I could see clearing the way would be her death. Not good.

Work was always going to be painful, and I knew that, had always known it. Just the thought of MAC’s reaction made my stomach turn, as he was the sort of arsehole who was always on the look-out for any individuality in his staff. Not to stamp it out, but to use it against them. I rode a bike, so I was perpetually being lectured on red-light-jumpers and road tax. One colleague kept dogs, so he had a chance to treat her to a tirade on shit and noise every time he felt the need to prove his stature. Everything in his world was a pissing contest.

That thought actually made me smile. There he was, determined to prove he had a bigger cock than someone who was actually eager to dispose of their own. What confusion that would bring him, I could only dream of.

I was back in that mood again, the slightly better one where I took pleasure in the smallest of things, such as the concept of MAC being lost for words. My mood swings were almost hormonal, and that was before any medication had been prescribed. That last thought once more took me off down another track, the one where I tried to guess how long it would be before I had to admit to my changes, which of course led to another step into the blackness, as I realised that the process would mean abuse, ridicule and loss, even if the quack or shrink saw fit to offer me anything at all apart from their contempt. Everything I read regarding transition in the UK spoke of a year or more of a real life test even before I was offered any medication, and that seemed horribly unfair. There was no way I could pass as a woman in the street, not unless it was absolutely dark and I kept my mouth shut.

Time for another drink.

I was almost late in the next morning, my head a little stuffy from the night’s anaesthetic, and of course MAC noticed it, so I resolved to make sure I outstayed him at the end of the day. He seemed in an odd mood, though, almost jovial, and I assumed he was on one of his upswings, the ones where he changed from a miserable, backstabbing snide bastard to a cheerful, grinning, frontstabbing shit. Rachel collared me later that morning, as I made a cup of tea to take back to my desk to forget as I worked, and drink much later, cold.

“You heard the news about Wilkins?”

“What, MAC Wilkins?”

“The very twat. He’s going”

“NO! Really?”

“Really and truly. He’s got VER, going to piss off somewhere warm for the rest of his existence, Cyprus I think”

“Which bit?”

“Which would you expect? Give the bastard ten years and he’ll have some Greek knocking at his door demanding his house back. Anyway…”

She stepped in closer, which was rather nice, and lowered her voice.

“We are going to have a leaving bash for him”

That caught me by surprise. “What, you are throwing a party for that bastard?”

She gave me a very old-fashioned look. “You don’t really think he’s invited, do you? Get the fucker out the door and hit the pub, more like! Look, when are you off home next?”

“Probably about six or half past”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, which did rather amazing things to her chest, which told me my hangover was easing.

“No, stupid boy! Home! Not that poxy house you live in, home to see your mother! So we don’t clash with the dates. How is she, anyway?”

“Sorry, see what you mean. Fit as a lop, now the hip’s done. She wants to come down and see That London, like, and not on a stick this time. Have to see when Von’s free”

“And how’s that going---oh shit, that touched a nerve, didn’t it?”

She ticked across to the other side of the corridor to the medical room, and after a quick check pointed at me.

“You, in here, now”

I heard the lock click behind me, and she leant back against the door, her voice softened considerably.

“What is up, Rob? I know you hit the sauce a bit, can’t help smelling it, yeah, but what is up with you and that Welsh bit? I thought it was all hearts and flowers and shit”

I took a seat on the bed. “It’s her and her divorce, Rach. You know what I told you, how she wants to sell up, move back to sheepshagger land, live by her parents?”

“Yeah…that a problem?”

“Well, she wants me to move there with her, and she can’t seem to understand what that would mean. Unemployment, for a start. Look, I can’t do that, not again”

She looked at me as I spoke, and I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes.

“So what else is up? You losing your feelings for her?”

“No, not really…”

“Oh, shit, Rob, you’re not going to tell me you’re really gay, are you?”

“Yes”

It was out before I could pull it back, my self-exposure building its own head of steam, out of my control. Rachel’s mouth was open, her face pink. I sat quietly till she spoke again.

“Von doesn’t know, then, that you fancy blokes as well?”

“No, she doesn’t, because I don’t”

“But you said, you know, that you’re, well, gay!”

“I am. I fancy women”

That threw Rachel, and she started to say something three or four times, pulling it back before she spoke, and then her eyes went wide. She stood and inspected every inch of me as I waited, and then in a calmer voice, she spoke so quietly I could hardly hear her.

“Rob Carter, if you mean what I think you do, then you have been dealt a particularly shitty set of cards”

I sighed, and did my own inspection of my shoes.

“What did you think I meant, pet?”

She waited a little while, and I assumed she was trying to decide whether she was being stupid, or would sound foolish, and then, very gently, she asked me one question.

“What’s your name?”

Another sigh. “Jill”

“Ah, fuck….Jill, who else knows?”

“My friend Karen and her hubby, and my doctor. That’s all so far”

“Well, my advice, speaking as someone who knows fuck-all about it but more than enough about arseholes, is that you keep it zipped until our friendly psycho twat is permanently out of the building, yeah? Rob, Jill, I can’t call you that, I’ll have a stupid accident, yeah? Rob, I am not going to go all nosy on you, right? Not here, not now, but I think we do have to sit down and sort some basics out”

“What sort of basics, Rach?”

“Which way you want to go with this. There’s nothing easy ahead, clearly, but I am sure there are ways we could make things less difficult.”

She started to giggle at some mad thought or other.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, Rob, don’t you see? Just about every bloke in this office seems to want to get into my knickers, yeah, and now here’s you, you not only want to get into my knickers, you want to get INTO my knickers! Fuck me!”

“Not while I’m with Von, yeah?”

Her grin was razor sharp.

“Not ever, Carter, cause I am definitely not into either fat bastards---or girls!”