Chapter 25

An unproductive date

Debbie, Suzanne and I had a good time together again on Friday evening. I was glad that both of my friends were now aware of my intentions and appeared to be supportive of my decision. Also, once I’d gotten over the embarrassment, I was pleased that they’d both assisted me in disguising the last vestiges of Tom Evans, (at least until such time as they might be removed altogether). That rather personal action helped form a bond between us, just as my helping Suzanne with her washing and dressing did so.

To date I’d found that Clare’s interactions with her female friends and colleagues to have been surprisingly easy, but now I would have to see how she got on with members of the opposite sex and find out how they would react to her. My initial conversations with Andy had been quite positive, but things seemed to be moving to a different, more serious stage and I wasn’t quite sure what I felt about it. Then there was the difficult issue of how my father would react when he finally discovered about Clare. I realised that I would have to tell him, but when and how? Would it be best to do so be in person, by letter or over the telephone? I really missed my mother as I felt sure that I would have been able to tell her, and then perhaps she could have broken the news to him. However this was not a matter of great urgency, as he was under the impression that I would be leaving for the United States in a few days.

Debbie didn’t stay very late on Friday, as like me, she was due to have a date with her ‘Guy’ the following evening and wanted to have a reasonably early night. Maybe one day we could go out together as a foursome, I thought, but didn’t say anything as this would inevitably leave Suzanne out of the conversation. I felt so sorry for her; she should be going out on dates with guys, not sitting in a wheelchair at home, waiting to die. Life could be so unfair.

‘So what are your plans for tomorrow?’ asked Suzanne as I helped her to get ready for bed.

‘I’ll need to do our household shopping in the morning and maybe you can help me to get ready in the afternoon.’

‘Yes I’d like to do that,’ she replied.

Before going to bed, I removed my breasts once again, cleaned them and my skin and checked that they had been causing no irritation to my skin. I decided leave them off for the night, and perhaps just insert them in my bra in the morning, leaving it until I was getting myself ready to go out before fixing them properly once again.

Suzanne was a regular customer of the Marks and Spencer, ‘Simply Food’ range, which tended to be more expensive than many other supermarkets but was always good quality. We usually used the shop in Notting Hill Gate, but on that Saturday I decided to have a change and went instead to the larger store on Kensington High Street, where they also sold clothes. I was still trying to make sense in mind of the changes that had taken place in my life over the last few weeks, and what I’d told Suzanne and Debbie. Whilst I was there, I had a look round the ladies’ fashions. It was nice to look at what was available and I even toyed with the idea of trying on a dress that I liked, and felt would probably look good on me, but I wasn’t in a position to spend much money on myself until my insurance claim was settled. In any event, I would need to save money to finance my transition so I would have to make do with what I had for the time being. However, it was nice to be able to do look round the lingerie department without worrying what people might be thinking about me. In the end I decided to treat myself to a new bra and pair of knickers. After all, a girl can never have too much underwear.

I returned to the flat and prepared lunch for us both.

‘Ok, Clare, the time has come for you to experience one of the pleasures of being a young woman,’ said Suzanne, ‘that of getting yourself ready to go out on a date.’

‘Really,’ I said.

‘Yes you’ll find that it is both a physical and mental process. You have to take time over small details of your appearance, knowing that at the end you will not only look your best but, more significantly, you will feel good about yourself and confident when you go out tonight.’

‘I need to glue on my boobs once again, but what else needs to be done?’ I asked.

‘You can do that after you’ve had a shower. Begin by de-fuzzing your legs, arms, armpits and face and then you can hop in the shower to remove the depilatory cream.’

I followed her instructions, and, as I did so, I did my best to keep the water away from the tape holding me in place down below. I would need to learn how to deal with this by myself in future, but for the time being it was still securely in place. Suzanne and Debbie had made a neat job and I had plenty of other things to worry about.

‘If you wash your hair, I’ll help you to put it in rollers afterwards,’ she said whilst I was in the shower.

I emerged from the shower, dressed in a bathrobe, and started to dry my hair. Suzanne helped me to stick on my breast forms once again and disguise the joins.

‘I feel happier having my breasts stuck down, particularly since I’ll be wearing that dress, otherwise I would be worrying that the joins might be visible.’

‘You should have no difficulty now,’ she said and then began to brush my hair and put in rollers for me.

‘That’s nice, thank you very much.’

‘How would you feel about a facial?’ she asked. ‘I think you have enough time.’

‘I feel guilty letting you do all this for me and then my going out tonight, Suzanne; it is me who should be looking after you.’

‘Don’t worry, Clare, I’m enjoying myself.’

‘But how will you manage tonight?’ I asked.

‘I’ll be fine. You have already helped me to have my shower this morning, and there are the remains of last night’s dinner in the fridge for me to eat later. Perhaps you can help me to change into my nightclothes just before you go out, but I should be able to get myself in to bed. You go out and have a great time tonight and forget about me.’

‘Alright, if you’re sure that it is alright.’

Once she finished with my hair she spread the cream on my face, whilst I lay back and luxuriated in the experience.

‘You will need to keep still for half an hour whilst I tidy up your nails and change the colour of your nail varnish to match the dress that you’ll be wearing.’

Suzanne was right; it was one of the pleasures of being a young woman to be pampered in this way. I began to realise why beauty salons were so successful, and why women were prepared to spend as much money as they did on cosmetics and other beauty products. When the time came to put on my makeup, my friend sat with me and advised me what colours to use and how to apply them most effectively, but left me to do the work myself. I was glad to do so as these days I was becoming quite proud of my skills in using cosmetics.

Eventually I was ready. My hair and makeup were both complete to our mutual satisfaction; I’d inserted a pair of hooped earrings in to my ears and put on a necklet, and then stepped in to my dress and put on the sandals. A few squirts of perfume finished the job. I stood in front of the long mirror in my room.

‘What do you think Suzanne?’ I asked tentatively.

‘More to the point, what do you think?’ she replied.

‘Well I certainly feel good.’

‘Yes, I can see that, and how do you think you look?’

‘I guess I look pretty good as well,’ I replied, blushing a little as I did so.

‘Precisely. You look quite stunning, young lady.’

I don’t think that any compliment paid to me before had made me feel quite so good. It was a mental process — I felt good and confident because I knew that I looked good.

We returned to her living room and sat down to await the arrival of my escort for the evening.

What if he should stand me up now after having gone to all this trouble. I thought to myself, but five minutes later the door buzzer sounded. Suzanne was sitting closest to the intercom.

‘Hello.’

‘Hi, it is Andy. I’ve come for Clare.’

‘Come in,’ she said pressing the entry button to open the front door, ‘Clare will meet you in the hall.’

I went out of the flat to greet him. He was holding a bunch of flowers. He took one look at me and I could see the admiration in his eyes.

‘Wow, just look at you!’ he exclaimed, with obvious approval.

I blushed slightly but it only served to reinforce the knowledge that what I was doing, what I was planning to do, was the right thing for me. This was how I was meant to be, but there had been some plumbing mix-up by Mother Nature along the way.

‘Are those for me? Thank you very much, they’re lovely,’ I said taking the flowers and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

‘I’ll need to put them in water before we go out, so come inside. I’d like you to meet my flat mate, Suzanne.’

‘Alright but I’ve parked my car in one of the residents’ parking places outside, will that be alright?’

‘Yes, that’s fine, there are no restrictions on Saturday nights.’

He followed me inside the flat, and I made the necessary introductions. I then busied myself in the kitchen with the flowers and I could hear them chatting with one another in quite a relaxed way. They were, after all, the same age. Eventually I emerged carrying a vase full of nicely arranged flowers, which I placed on the table.

‘I’m just going to help my friend get changed, Andy, but I’ll be ready to leave in ten minutes,’ I said.

‘No problem, we’ve plenty of time,’ he replied.

As I said this, my mobile phone rang. It still had my original sim card inside as I’d intended to swap to the new one at the beginning of the next week. I opened my handbag and looked at the number from the incoming call, but didn’t recognize it.

‘Hello,’ I said as androgynously as I could.

‘Is that Tom Evans?’

It was a woman’s voice with a Tyne and Wear accent, which I was unsure whether I recognized or not.

‘Hold on,’ I said and pressed the mute button.

‘Will you two excuse me for a minute,’ I said to the others, and went to my bedroom and shut the door.

‘Hello, this is Tom Evans, I said trying to adopt my more masculine voice.’

‘Hello Tom, this is Vera Hepburn, your Dad’s friend. We weren’t sure whether you were still in the country or not.’

‘I’m due to leave on Wednesday,’ I lied.

‘I’m afraid your Dad’s been taken to the Sunderland Royal Hospital. He was suffering from chest pains and shortness of breath

‘Do they know what is wrong with him?’

‘They said it was a pulmonary embolism — some sort of blockage in the lung.’

‘Is that serious?’

‘I think it can be. They’ve removed one blood clot from his artery, but they’re anxious in case there are any others in his blood stream. They are keeping him in hospital so that they can keep a close eye on him over the next few days. Your Dad told me not to tell you about it, but I thought that you’d want to know.’

‘Yes, of course. Thank you, Vera, I’m glad that you’ve told me.’

‘Do you think you will be able to come and see him before you leave for the USA?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure, it might be difficult,’ I said feeling awful as I did so.

She sounded a little disappointed.

‘Well I’ll be visiting him over the next few days and so I’ll let you know if there are any developments.’

‘Thank you very much.’
I rang off and went to join the others again.

‘Is there a problem, Clare?’ asked Suzanne as I emerged from my bedroom, clearly looking worried.

‘That was my Dad’s new lady friend. He’s been taken to hospital in Sunderland with a pulmonary embolism, whatever that is. It sounds quite serious’

‘Let’s look it up on the NHS Direct website to see,’ said Suzanne, turning to her laptop computer which was on the table.

She soon found the relevant page where it was described as ‘a serious and potentially life-threatening condition.’

‘I’m very sorry, Clare, what are you going to do?’ asked Andy.

‘I ought to go and see him, but I can’t leave Suzanne on her own for such a long time.’

‘You would never forgive yourself if he were to die and you hadn’t been to see him,’ said Suzanne. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be able to manage on my own for a couple of days.’

‘Why don’t we get in my car now and drive there,' suggested Andy. 'We could probably get two thirds of the way before we needed to stop and find a motel for the night. That way you would be able to reach the hospital by lunchtime tomorrow. Assuming all is well, we could be back in London by late tomorrow night.’

‘But you’d be exhausted driving all that way,’ I said.

‘I’ll be alright, I’m quite used to driving long distances, and it will be nice to have such attractive looking company for the journey,’ said Andy.

‘We can have separate rooms in the hotel if you prefer,’ he added, as an afterthought.

I blushed. I hadn’t given any thought to the sleeping arrangements but now found myself wondering what it would be like to share a bed with Andy.

In the meanwhile, Suzanne had turned to a Routefinder website.

‘According to the AA it should take just over five hours to drive there; that’s without any breaks. It would just be feasible, if you left straight away.’

‘But I can’t go looking like this. I’ve not yet had a chance to explain to him about Clare; the shock of finding out might kill him.’

‘Well it is up to you to decide,’ said Suzanne. ‘I think any father would be proud to have such a daughter, but maybe you could take advice from his lady friend. ‘Remember also that you don’t have any clothes for Tom and the shops are all now closed. In any event, it will probably take several hours of work to get you looking remotely like a young man again.

She didn’t remind me that I’d also promised her to remain as Clare, but I was aware of the fact, and also that I didn’t want Andy to see me dressed as Tom.

‘Alright, I’ll go as I am and face the consequences.’

Then turning to Andy I said: ‘thank you for your kind offer to drive me. Twin beds in a shared room will be fine with me.’

He looked quite pleased with himself.

‘I’ll just need to grab a change of clothes and some makeup. Will you need to collect a change of clothes from your flat Andy?’

‘I have a bag containing some clean underclothes, socks and a t-shirt in the car, just in case I got lucky with my date tonight,’ he said with a wicked grin.

Within half an hour of receiving the phone call from Vera, I’d packed an overnight bag and also helped Suzanne to change into her night clothes, whilst Andy went to the garage at the end of our road to fill his car with petrol.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be alright, Suzanne?’

‘Yes, I’ll be fine thanks. There’s plenty of food in the fridge.

‘Would you like me to see whether Debbie can call in on you tomorrow?’

‘Look, Clare, I may be confined to a wheelchair but I’m not yet suffering from dementia. If I need any help or visitors I’ll organize them for myself. You just go and see how your Dad is doing.’

‘Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow night.’

‘Good luck.’

‘Thanks for all the help.’

I put my bag on the back seat of the car and took my place in the front with Andy. As soon as we were clear of London and were driving on the M1 motorway I retrieved my mobile phone from my handbag and rang the number of the last call I’d received.

‘Vera, it is Tom Evans, I’m on my way to Sunderland and hope to be able to call in to see my Dad tomorrow lunchtime.’

‘Oh I’m so glad to hear that, lad. Your Dad told me not to say anything to you, but I knew he wanted to see you.’

‘The only thing is, there is something I need to tell you that may surprise you and him as well. Also, I’m going to need your help tomorrow.’

‘What’s that?’ she asked.