Being a parent is stressful even at the best of times. You are always worrying about your children no matter how old they are.
But, being a single parent is just doubly or even triply so. Since ‘she’ left me to go off with ‘him’ because of … well, just about everything, it had just been my son Jonathan or, as he preferred to be called ‘Jon’ and me.

Jon was growing up fast but the worry of being a patent didn’t reduce as he grew older. Teenagers have their own special set of issues.

This particular Friday night, he was out god knows where with some friends. At least that’s what he told me via a text message earlier. The weather was filthy so I’d stayed up waiting for the inevitable phone call, ‘Dad, can you come and pick me up?’

I guess I must have dozed off when I woke to the sound of the front door closing. I thought that must be him back.

I got up from the chair and went to meet him. As I opened the door into the hallway, I got a total shock.

“Sandra?”
At first, I thought it was my ex-wife. The woman standing there with a totally shocked look on her face looked just like my ex when we first started going out together.

Then I realised that it was Jon, my son.

“Dad!”

“Jon, I’m glad you are back. The weather is not nice tonight,” I said trying to say something.

Then I added,
“Take that coat off and come into the kitchen. I’ll make you something hot to drink. Then we can talk,” I said firmly.

“I’m sorry Dad. It won’t happen again.

I’d known about his dressing up for years but had no idea that it had got this far and that he looked so good.

I shook my head.

“I’ve known for years that you did this but never realised it had gone this far. As for it not happening again? You don’t really mean that do you?”

Jon looked down at the floor.

“Hang your sodden coat up in the Utility room and take those apologies for shoes off and come into the Kitchen. We can talk while you get yourself warmed up.”

Reluctantly, he did that.

I made us both mugs of Hot Chocolate and we sat on either side of the kitchen table.

“Sorry Dad.”

“No need to be sorry son.”

He looked at me surprised.

“What do you call yourself when you are like that?”

“Fiona.”

Fiona was my ex-wife’s middle name. I’d always liked it.

“Well Fiona, you gave me a shock but a welcome one. You look so much like your mother when we first met.”

“Dad?”

“Fiona, as I said, I have known about your dressing for years. It was your Mother who told me. She thought that you would grow out of it. That was just one of the reasons for us separating. Before you ask, it isn’t your fault we got divorced. Far from it. She wanted things that I could not give her so off she went.”

I looked at my new daughter. I could hardly see any trace of Jon in her. The way she sat was totally feminine. It was amazing.

“I’m not going to tear you off a strip or throw you out so you can relax. But I need to ask one question.”

“Is this who you really want to be?”

A small smile appeared on her face.

“Yes. Yes dad, I do. Fiona is who I am.”

I smiled.

“Good. Then no more hiding her understand?”

“Dad?”

“I’m ok if you want to be Fiona around here. In fact, I’d like to get to know her properly.”

She looked at me bewildered. Then I had an idea.

“Stay right there, young lady. I need to get something from my bedroom.”

I dashed upstairs and pulled out a lot of junk from under my bed. In amongst it was a tatty department store plastic bag. Clutching it, I returned to the kitchen.

I sat down and pulled out the photo album that was inside the bag.

I opened it at the last used page and placed it in front of her.

“What do you see here?”

Fiona looked at the slightly faded prints.

“There’s Mum and You at some function.”

“Your Uncle Sam’s wedding.”

Then he saw the other pictures.

“Dad?”

“Yes darling, that’s me in a dress with your Mother.”

She looked at me for an explanation.

“I met your mother at a University Party. It was a ‘Tarts and Vicars’ party. We were raising money for a local charity. Anyway, all the men went as ‘tarts’ and the women came as vicars. The University feminists didn’t like it. They claimed that is was bad for the image of women. Your mother was amongst those protesting.”

“Anyway, to cut a long story short, as I was leaving the party I slipped in my heels and literally ended up in her arms. Something clicked and that was it, we were a couple. Yes, she did change her mind when we gave the local women’s refuge a donation of £500. The picture of two of us in full ‘tarts’ outfits presenting them with the cheque made the front of the local paper. After that I did dress up for your mother and yes, we went out together a few times before we got married.”

“Why did you stop?”

“You came along. We moved a couple of times and had to throw a lot of stuff away. That included all my female clothes.”

“I was so scared of telling you,” said Fiona.

I smiled.

“That is the hardest thing. Many parents today can just about handle their child telling them that they are gay but telling them that they are the wrong sex is another thing entirely. In time, it might not matter. With me it does not matter. I’m here for you whatever you want to do. Do you understand that?”

Fiona nodded.

“Good. Now not another word. I have to work tomorrow so we can talk tomorrow night unless Fiona is going out on the town again?”

Fiona managed a small smile.

“No, she’s not.”

As we went into our bedrooms she said to me,
“Thanks Dad.”

I just smiled.

---

That fateful Friday night changed our whole relationship. Fiona came into being almost every day. It was easy to see her confidence increase. At the same time, it stirred a lot of thoughts about my own sexuality.

This increased even more when my long term on/off girlfriend wanted me to commit to her. She knew nothing about Fiona so when she came around one evening to surprise me and found my son answering the door as Fiona, she marched in and started to tear me off a strip for ‘two timing her’.

“Liz,” I said,
“It isn’t like that.”

“Really, that is what it looks like to me.”

“Liz, I want you to meet Fiona. Fiona is my son Jon. He is transgendered.”

Liz for one time in her life, was speechless.

“Liz, if you can’t accept Fiona then there is the door. The fact that my son is Transgendered is the reason why I have been unable to commit to you.”

“Are you dumping me?” she said.

“If you can’t accept Fiona then yes I am dumping you.”

She stormed out of the house never to be seen again. It was only later that I realised that I’d used the ‘T’ word to describe my son. It didn’t matter. My task was to make him or her happy in their life. After all, isn’t that the job of any parent?

---

Life settled down again into the new normality of me plus Jon plus Fiona. It only served to make me realise that I really missed having female company my own age. I was reluctant to try to start a new relationship with Jon/Fiona in the background. More than once, I had a couple of beers too many on the way home from work. I hasten to add that I only ever did that when I wasn’t working the next day.

One such day, I was in the Waggon and Horses Pub. It was a bit of a dive but I could leave the car at home and walk to the pub and if I was a tad over the drink-drive limit, it wasn’t too far to stagger home.

I’d nearly finished my second pint and was thinking about going home when a total stranger sat opposite me. He smiled as he sat down with a half pint glass in his hand. The place wasn’t busy so I wondered why he’d chosen my table when there were plenty of others free. He wasn’t bothering me so I ignored him.

A few minutes passed when he said,

“Sometimes I think that what drives us to have the odd drink too many is that we worry about our children.”

I looked at him surprised.

“Take your son for example. Jon is a bit of a nobody but Fiona is a different person entirely.”

This started to get me angry.

“I don’t know who the hell you are but you have no right telling me how to bring up my family!”

He smiled.

“That is the last thing I want to do Mr Simms. Yes, I know all about you and can sense that there is another person inside you wanting to get out. I mean you nor your son no harm. You are a good man but from time to time you have the occasional pint too many because of the quandary your son has put you in.”

He finished his half pint and stood up. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“If you want some help realising your dream then watch out for a delivery in the next few days. Oh, and you were the best ‘tart’ all those years ago. Dave Benson should never have won that prize.”

Then he was gone leaving me mad and gripping my pint glass as if my life depended upon it.

I had one more beer and walked home a bit calmer.

I forgot about the encounter until almost a week later, I arrived home to find Fiona making us some tea.

“There is a package for you on the table. It was delivered just as I got home.”

I wasn’t expecting anything and was a bit bewildered until I remembered the encounter in ‘The Wagon’.

I looked at the package. It wasn’t very big but I didn’t touch it.

“Can you lay the table Dad? The pasta is just about ready. You know how you hate overcooked pasta!” said Fiona.

Since Fiona had emerged and became part of the household, the domestic side of things had improved dramatically. She started to cook and clean the place. Jon on the other-hand was to put it bluntly, a lazy SOB. She’d even cleared out her bedroom. The six bags of ‘stuff’ we took to the recycling centre made me proud but it also hammered home the fact that Fiona was here for the long term. I was sad that Jon was fast disappearing from my life but I was so happy that Fiona was happy with herself. Teenage ‘angst’ is tough to deal with as a parent.

After dinner, Fiona disappeared to do her college homework. Since that fateful night and her emergence, she had buckled down and really got on with her education.

I did the washing up and cleared things away. All that remained was that package sitting on the table.

In the end, I opened it. Inside the padded bag was a box. I opened the box and there were what looked like two bracelets. They were heavily engraved. They also looked rather old. There was also a sheet of paper. I read it.

“This is your chance to realise all those dreams you had. These bracelets will let you and Fiona experience live as a real woman. I mean real women, not transgendered. Yes, this is magic and it works.

Wear your bracelet to bed and in the morning, you will be really a woman. Take it off and 12 hours later, preferably overnight, and you will be back to who you are now.

WARNING!
The secret sauce/magic that in these bracelets will last until the end of the year. That is 23:59:59 on the 31st December. If you are wearing them when the new year strikes the changes will become permanent. The magic is also strong enough to change your identities should you be wearing them at the end of the year.

May you and your son enjoy your time as women. Just remember the Cinderella factor. When the clock stops striking midnight then the magic stops.”

The New Year seemed ages away but already the shops had all their Christmas displays out. It wasn’t that far away.

I looked up and saw Fiona standing there.

“What’s in the package?” she said politely. It was obvious that she’d seen the bracelets.

I sighed. I knew that I had to tell her so I handed her the sheet of paper.

She read it and sat down.

“Is this some sort of joke?”

I looked at her and shook my head.

“I was having a drink in the Wagon just over a week ago after work and this man came and sat opposite me. He told me all sorts of things about us including Fiona and my time at University. He also told me to expect a delivery. This must be it.”

Fiona picked up one of the bracelets.

“This has Fiona engraved on it,” she exclaimed.

I picked up the other one. There in delicate engraving was the name that I’d given myself ‘before’, Roberta. I tried hard but I could not remember ever telling anyone that name for an awful long time.

I remembered choosing that name because my insides were being torn apart with part of me wanting to be Roberta and part of me Peter. I’d chosen Roberta because I’d heard the old song ‘Killing me softly’ by Roberta Flack. I felt that it was killing me from the inside out before the day I met Jon’s Mother.

“What does yours say?” asked Fiona.

“Oh! Sorry, I was miles away.”

Fiona sat looking at me. She was waiting for an answer.

“Roberta. It says Roberta,” I replied quietly.

“That is a lovely name.”

“The thing is that I don’t think I ever told anyone that name. Well, apart from your Mother that is and I’m sure that she’s put all thoughts of me into the rubbish a long time ago.”

The smile that was on Fiona’s face disappeared in a flash.

“Can these things be real then?”

“I don’t know and no we aren’t going to try them out,” I said firmly.

The look of disappointment on Fiona’s face was hard to see. But I had to be firm.

Later on, that evening, I put them into my wall safe. My ex-wife had a thing for bling. It did not matter if it was real or fake, it had to go into the safe that she insisted that I install. After she’d gone and taking all the bling with her including two watches of mine, I’d changed the combination. So far there was no indication that Jon/Fiona had worked it out.

However, I was wrong, very wrong. A week later I returned from work and the new Fiona greeted me.

“Jon? Fiona?”

“Hello dad. It worked,” she proclaimed proudly as she showed me the bracelet.

I came into the house and closed the door behind me. This new Fiona was stunningly beautiful.

“How? How did you know the combination?”

“I didn’t but it didn’t take long to guess.”

“When I explicitly said not to?”

She looked at me coyly.

“Sorry Dad but I had to find out.”

“Give me the bracelet,” I said holding my hand out.

“Dad, the thing works. I have breasts and everything,” she said as she looked down at her chest.

I stepped away and took a good look at her. She looked so good and so happy.

“Still, give me the bracelet. The sooner we find out if whatever magic or spells have been put on you can be reversed the better.”

I held put my hand once more.

Fiona took off the bracelet and handed it to me. Her face was sad.

“It even does downstairs,” she commented.

I really didn’t want to hear that at that point in time.

“Didn’t you understand Dad? I have to sit down to pee. I made a bit of a mess at first but I’m better now.”

“Look love. I have to admit that you look fantastic and I’m sure that every able-bodied male would want to get you into bed, the fact remains that you are my son and it is my duty to look out for you. We don’t know about the side effects or anything.”

“Dad,” said Fiona.
“I look exactly as I dreamed I would. I’ll go back to the old me but if this thing works, what is the harm in trying the new us out for a bit?”

She had a valid argument.

“Do you really want someone like your mother fussing over you?”

My ex-wife had fussed over Jon. Nothing he did was ever good enough, or he wasn’t tidy enough or manly enough or … He just wasn’t and never would be perfect in her eyes. I had this fear that I’d turn into her. That was not nice. I hoped that I was not like that but who was I to judge.

The next morning, I had to bite my tongue and refrain from going onto Fiona’s bedroom. I waited anxiously for her to appear before I went off to work.

I was on the verge of leaving home when Jon appeared.

“Hi Dad. See, I’m back to normal.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“We’ll talk tonight,” I said as I hovered by the door.

“I have a late class. We won’t be done until seven.”

“That’s not usual, is it?”

“No but the Mr Toms is in court today. He got done for drunk driving.”

“That does not set a very good example to young people now does it?”

“Jon smiled. The thing is, when the alleged crime happened he was with us. Remember when we went up down Manchester to UMIST? He was with us all the time.”

I looked surprised.

“Two of the class are going to give evidence. He thinks that it was his twin brother who is a confirmed drunk who impersonated him. Oh, and Mr Toms does not drink.”

“Just be careful.”

“Yes Dad,” replied Jon smiling.

“Hi Dad,” said Jon as he arrived home that night.

“I’m in the kitchen.”

Jon came into the kitchen full of life. His high spirits didn’t last when he saw my face.

I was sitting at the table waiting for him.

Jon came and sat down.

“Ok Dad, out with,” he said in a resigned tone.

“I did some thinking about the offer that came with the bracelets.”

Jon just looked at me.

“Here are some of the downsides of wearing them.”

I pushed three sheets of paper towards him.

He picked them up and started to read them.

“So? Life is full of challenges or at least that is what you keep telling me.”

He’d got me there for the time being.

“These are the upsides I can think of.”

I pushed a single sheet of paper over to him.

“But… this is blank.”

“Exactly. There are so many things that are unknown.”

No one said anything for some time.

Then Jon sighed.

“Ok, doing it for real and permanent is a huge unknown. Are you up for at least trying it yourself?”

I smiled and pulled back the sleeve of my jumper to reveal the bracelet.

“Cool!” was his only reaction.

“Don’t go looking for your one. It isn’t here.”

Jon smiled back at me.

“You know me too well.”

“That is my job as a parent, isn’t it?”

Jon to his credit didn’t say anything but smiled sweetly at me.

To say that I looked different the following morning was only half the story. I felt different. Even my slightly dicky knee felt better but the biggest different was in how I looked. I immediately regretted not letting Jon wear his bracelet because we would look so very much alike that we could pass for twins.

The end result of my transformation was that I now looked like a twenty something woman, not like a man fast approaching the big four zero. All the things that would identify a middle-aged man had totally disappeared. My hair was back as well and it was a decent length. Before, I’d been going bald now, I had a full head of blonde hair. I thought back to when I was a child and how I’d been called ‘Blondie’ by my mates. Well guys, I was really that now.

Then there were my breasts and the rest. Just looking at myself made me smile. Then I felt myself shudder as I thought, ‘I could get used to this’.

From the smells coming from downstairs, I guessed that Jon was waiting for me to appear. He would be eager to see what his new ‘father’ looked like. I pulled on a sweatshirt that was now far too big for me. The same went for the trousers. In the end, I pulled them off and put on a pair of tracksuit bottoms. It wasn’t elegant but that was all that was available.

After running a brush through my hair, I was as ready as I would ever be.

I walked into the kitchen and Jon was indeed waiting for me. Or rather Fiona was. She shrieked when she saw me.

“Dad?”

“I don’t think so Son. I think I’m more like your sister than anything. I don’t know about the magic in those bracelets but it is some really powerful mojo. I’ve changed a lot.”

“Do you like it?”

I smiled.

“I could get used to this but that isn’t the problem.”

“Eh?” remarked Fiona.

“My changes are so radical that I really don’t have anything to fit me.”

It took a few seconds but Fiona got the joke. We both had a good laugh.

Then I became serious.

“Look at this,” I said pulling out my phone from the tracksuit bottom pocket.

I pulled up a picture of him when he’d been transformed.

“We could be twins. A far cry from a mother and daughter that I had envisaged.”

Fiona sat motionless for nearly a minute.

“I never thought that something like that would happen. I sort of like you as a father. You understand me. Mum never did and since she went south, she gave up even trying.”

“Same here. I had a bit of a shock this morning I can tell you.”

Fiona sighed.

“I’ll bet that is another dozen or so items for the ‘bad’ list?”

“Is that so bad? After all, what was your motto from when you were a scout?”

“Ok, Ok. I get you.”

“Baden-Powell wasn’t stupid you know. Planning and forethought was what it was all about.”

“Dad?” said Fiona in a slightly exasperated tone.

Then the pair of us burst into laughter.

“You might look like a ‘hot chick’ but inside, lurking somewhere there is my Father.”

“Indeed, and that could end up being a bit of a problem.”

“Eh?”

“Well, as a potential dumb blonde no self-respecting male would want me to turn out to be a bit of a smart-arse and also wise to their ways, now would they?”

Fiona laughed but then said,
“More problems?”

“Just thinking ahead.”

Fiona just sighed.

“Look love, I know that I seem to be putting a bit of a downer on this but we have to be practical if it is going to work. I can hardly go back to driving busses looking like this, now can I? Then think what would you do if you turned up at 6th Form College looking like this? I’d expect that most of the males would go apoplectic.”

Fiona was silent.

“I’d not thought of things like that.”

I took her hand.

“That’s why I’m the parent and you aren’t”

Fiona laughed.

“I don’t know of any parents who look like that.”

I smiled.

“Now, I need you to go shopping for me. I need something nice to wear. Have you forgotten what tomorrow is?”

Fiona stared at me nonplussed.

I shook my head. I felt my hair move around. It felt rather nice.

“It is your birthday. You are Eighteen. I thought we might go out… as Sisters.”

“You don’t mean…?”

“Yes. Get something for both of us to wear and I’ll book us somewhere very nice. We will stay overnight. Then you can have your first legal drink.”

Fiona looked at me. She knew that I knew that it would not be the first drink but she got the message.

I gave her a couple of hundred pounds to get some things for me. I knew that it was going to cost me a lot more than that in the long run but it was a start.

The rest of the day was one of experiencing things for the first time that are second nature to Women. Fiona returned laden with bags that included my first bra. She’d been cheeky and included matching knickers and everything. My bedroom was literally strewn with clothes but I felt in heaven.

The next morning, the two of us stood next to each other. We were both Naked. We were almost identical in appearance.

“I’m stunned,” I said.

“Me too.”

Just before midday, we loaded up the car and tried to stop smiling. Both of us were in seventh heaven.

As we drove out of our street, a large SUV drove in from the other end. I recognised the car and the driver in a flash. I nearly froze but I managed to recover my composure.

I stopped at the junction with the main road and looked in the mirror. The SUV stopped right outside out home. A woman got out of the vehicle and marched up the garden path.

“What’s up Roberta?” asked Fiona.

“We escaped just in time. That was your Mother in that SUV.”

Fiona turned around. We could see her standing outside our home.

“Do you want to go back?” I asked.

Fiona laughed.

“Looking like this? She’d probably explode on the spot.”

I didn’t wait, I turned out into the traffic leaving our home behind.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ve booked a place in the Lakes. Two rooms and a table for dinner. I think we should really look the part with the things you bought yesterday.”

“But remember birthday girl, the men are the enemy tonight.”

Fiona chuckled.

“I am serious. This is a totally new experience for all both of us. So, take it easy and no trying out your new equipment.”

Then I added,
“You are not only in a different body but you have a fanny now. You need to protect it. There is no telling what would or would not happen if you became pregnant.”

Fiona didn’t reply but the expression on her face told me that I’d struck a chord.

We’d just turned onto the M6 when my phone bleeped.

“Can you take a look at it?” I asked Fiona.

She picked up my phone and smiled.

“It’s from Mum. She’s asking where we are and why aren’t we at home. She came up from Oxford especially for today.”

“Did you know that she was coming up today?”

“Sorry Sis, this is news to me.”

“Do you want to reply?”

“Do you want me to tell her that the two hot chicks who were driving your car are really her son and former husband?”

We both laughed.

“How about saying that we are away for the weekend in York?”

“Gotcha Sis.”

Less than a minute later, Fiona said,
“Sent.”

Just as we were starting to relax, the phone bleeped again.

“She wants to know where in York.”

“Bummer!”

I thought for a moment before saying,

“Tell her that we are on a men-only weekend and that she forgot to tell us that her majesty was coming to visit.”

“Eh? I can’t say that, she’ll go mad.”

“Tell her that as she didn’t let us know that she was coming up. So, we are messing about with Steam Trains.”

Fiona laughed. She knew that my darling ex-wife hated those smelly things.

“Ok.”

The phone remained silent as we headed north. The farther away we got from home, the more relaxed we both became.

Fiona came into my room to do my makeup. I was amazed at how good at it she was.
“There you go Sis. You look fantastic.”

“So, do you Sis,” I commented.

To say that we turned heads as we walked into the Restaurant that evening was probably the understatement of the year. Still, I think we enjoyed our few seconds of fame.

The evening went down perfectly until I suggested that we adjourn to the bar.

“Nothing more for you to drink my dear,” I said quietly.

Fiona had drunk nearly half a bottle of wine with the meal.

“I don’t want the birthday girl to wake up in the morning with her first hangover.”

“Aw Sis?”

I looked at her sternly.

“Ok, I get the message.”

“Look darling, neither of us know how much alcohol our new bodies can handle. Until then, and especially for you, lay off the booze. Ok?”

She sighed.

“Always on the lookout for me then Sis?”

I smiled.

“That’s what sisters are for aren’t they?”

She held up a hand.

“Ok boss sister.”

We walked into the Hotel Bar and both of us got hit upon before we’d reached the bar.

“Look buster, keep your hands to yourself. My Sister and I are spoken for and neither of us would be seen dead with creeps like you two. Got it?”

I didn’t wait for an answer but I turned Fiona around together, we walked out of the bar.

Back in our room, Fiona said to me,

“You set that up, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t darling. What we just experienced is going to be pretty common if we become like this permanently. I took a chance and it worked. Sometimes men can be just obnoxious bastards. I hope that I brought you up so that you are not like that?”

Fiona hugged me.

“Wise Owl speaketh wise words,” she said quietly.

“Time for bed then?”

“Yes Pop.”

“Do you want this?” asked Fiona holding up the bracelet.

I shook my head.

“I think we should leave just as we arrived, as Sisters.”

That got me another hug.

We returned home late on the Sunday evening. Waiting for us was a very terse note from my ex-wife berating the fact that she’d come all the way up from Oxford to see her son.

“If she’d only told us that she was coming…” I said.

“Don’t worry Sis. That’s mum through and through. I’ll call her tomorrow,” said Fiona in a very grown up manner.

I smiled back at her. She was growing up fast.

I put the note down and asked.

“Did you enjoy the weekend?”

“I learned a lot. This being a pretty woman is not so easy. When you are with friends is one thing but out there in the big, bad world is a different thing.”

I smiled.

“We need to do this again before the end of the year. There is a lot more that we both need to discover.”

“I know,” said Fiona with a sigh in her voice.

“Leave it to me then. I’ll try to fix up something for Christmas. Don’t go and agree to visit your Mother when you speak to her.”

Fiona smiled back at me.

“When was the last time she invited me to spend any time with her and her new Hubby?”

We both knew the answer to that. It was never. All her mother had done since she left had been to send some money at odd intervals despite the court order stipulating that she should pay her way when it came to bringing up Jon.

Fiona took off her bracelet and headed off to bed.

I sat in the kitchen for a while thinking back over the events of the weekend. Fiona had managed very well apart from the incident in the Hotel Bar.

I took my bracelet off and after putting both of them into the safe and changing the combination, I headed to bed. It had been an eventful weekend.

_ _

Life returned to normal but it felt totally unreal after the weekend we’d had. I noticed that Fiona was a bit listless one evening.

“Thinking about the weekend?”

“Yeah. That was an out of this world experience and more.”

I saw a glint in her eye.

“Really?”

“Sorry. But I couldn’t resist…”

“Stop right there, young lady. I know what you mean and yes it was hard.”

She nodded her understanding.

“I added some more things to the downside list.”

I smiled back at her.

“I know. I’m pleased that you are thinking about things. A lot of what we experienced would apply for this Fiona should she become a permanent fixture.”

“I know and that’s what is worrying me.”

I reached over and took her hand.

“I hope that… well I’m here for you. You know that.”

She smiled back.

“The kids at College think it weird that I have such a good relationship with my Father.”

“I guess that in a lot of cases, it is the Father that does a runner leaving the Mother ‘holding the baby’ so to speak. The whole system is geared towards it being a Mother and the Child. It took me nearly a year to get the Child Benefit payments transferred to me. Without my Mother’s help, I would have been really in trouble. Your mother never paid me that money by the way. She promised but like most things with her…”

“Don’t worry Dad, you did a good job at bringing me up. I’m definitely the boring sensible one amongst those I hang out with at College.”

“How did your call to your Mother go?”

“It didn’t. She was out playing Bridge. I spoke to Bridget. She was very short with me. Told me in no uncertain terms that it was my fault that her mother drove up here at the weekend meaning that she could not go to her Pony Club event.”

Bridget was Jon/Fiona’s nine-year-old half-sister.

“At least you tried. That’s all you can do.”

Then I laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just thought how cool it would be to go down to Oxford as Sisters and see their family in action. But it was just a thought so don’t even think about it.”

[to be continued]