Watching Stevie bustle around the office in skirt and heels, Bob struggled once more to bring an image of his ‘nephew’ to mind. On those occasions when he had a clear memory of being in Steve’s company, it was only ever something the boy had said that he could recall. One could not accuse his alter-ego of lacking presence, she was at the heart of everything that happened in the office, and instantly memorable. Whatever she did, no matter how mundane, was carried out with brio; he could not help smiling as she air kissed Penny Hawker, before ushering the head of HR into his office.

“Um, yes... what exactly happened this weekend Penny? I talked to Ted — Stevie’s father — yesterday, but he wasn’t making much sense.” Bob was a little thrown by Ms Hawker’s appearance, though it took some time to pinpoint what had changed. She had never worn her hair down, not in the decade of their acquaintance, and he could only wonder at the reason why she had decided to that day. There was no doubt that the mass of soft blond curls framing Penny’s face suited her, and it was an appreciation of just how much, that distracted him as she began a clear, concise summary of the weekend’s events.

“...and then things got out of hand. Stevie was very upset, so I stayed with her last night.” Penny brushed away a tress that had strayed into her eyes.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her haven’t you?” Bob tried not to make it sound like an accusation, but the recollection of how she had treated Stevie on their first meeting, coloured his words. Her answer was neither denial, nor explicit confession; its subtext was however obvious.

“Stevie is the most remarkable person I have ever met; she’s bright, and she’s funny, she’s fearless, and yet she’s fragile. Have you ever met someone with an angelic snore? I have never known anyone whose friendship felt such a privilege.” Penny fussed with her hair while she spoke, brushing it from her face, or curling it around a finger.

“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way Penny, but it almost sounds like you’re in love with her.” Bob braced himself for the expected rebuff, and was astounded her mild answer.

“I’m ashamed of what we’ve done to her, and why.” She obviously had more to say, and he allowed her to continue after catching her breath. “It’s too late to undo, but I’m going to make sure nobody else hurts Stevie like we have.”

“That goes without saying, here’s what I’d...” Bob outlined a number of potential approaches based on his knowledge of Stevie’s parents, to which Penny added her observations of how Stevie would react.

“Let’s bring her in now Bob; I don’t want her to think we’re going behind her back.”

“Before we do that, how quickly can you arrange a department change for Belinda?” Company policy dictated that married couples could not work closely together, therefore if he and his personal assistant were to marry, that obstacle would have to be removed. The implications of Bob’s request were not lost on the HR head, who offered her congratulations and inquired if he had a replacement lined up. His answer came as no surprise.

“They’ve been in there for ages; I bet they’re talking about me.” Stevie had not told Miss Hanford everything about the weekend, and she had certainly not included the worst of her mother’s tirade. Belinda had been very nice to her, but retained a measured reserve with the office junior, which Stevie felt compelled to observe too.

“Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” the older woman replied, and with a conspiratorial flourish, produced a small box from a drawer. “I know you can keep secrets, dear, so tell me what you think.”

“Is that an engagement ring? Should I start calling you Auntie Bel?”

“Not for a while yet.” Belinda snapped the box shut, and replaced it in the drawer, but added, “Mr Thornwell will need a new PA then.” Stevie assumed Belinda’s wink was meant to convey that the vacant position would be hers. Although she said nothing to contradict her senior, Stevie had little enthusiasm for the prospect of making coffee, or managing appointments, for the foreseeable future. Before the pause in their conversation could become awkward, Bob summoned Stevie into his office, over the intercom.

Penny thought it had gone reasonably well. Bob had taken some of the weight from her shoulders, and Stevie appeared much happier when she learned what they had planned. If anything troubled Penny, it was his assessment of her relationship with Stevie, and his reaction to a minor incident. Stevie had stood alongside the seated Penny, her fingers twitching nervously, and she had taken the girl’s hand in hers. It was a small gesture, one she had fallen into using, whenever Stevie needed reassurance. Bob’s expression told her had marked it as significant, but men often misunderstood female relationships, and she could not allow it to distract from the business ahead.

Using the room she had brought Stevie to on Friday had been a conscious decision. It would mean nothing to the post room worker, or his section leader, however it would strengthen her resolve to see Phil Becket suitably punished. As head of HR, Penny had many measures at her disposal, yet selecting the most appropriate had not been easy.

“I’m not fucking going; it’s bloody PC gone mad.” It was exactly the reaction Penny had hoped for, and she sat back waiting for him to dig himself deeper into a hole. “It’s his word against mine.”

“Your use of the masculine pronoun Mr Becket, further underlines the importance of the training we have arranged.” Penny edged forward in her seat; it was time for the coup de grace. “Of course if you refuse this opportunity, we would have to consider your suitability for an environment in which there are members of the transgendered community.”

“Two fucking weeks...” Phil shrugged off his supervisor’s attempts to silence him, “up a sodding mountain in Wales, with a bunch of fairies?”

“It is the best course available, Mr Becket.” Penny’s thin lipped smile chilled both men into silence. “You start a week from today, we’ll arrange transportation of course, and although I cannot suspend you — there has been no official complaint — I can grant you an extra week’s leave, with pay, effective immediately.”

“C’mon Phil, you can’t ask fairer than. Thank you Ms Hawker.” Phil’s immediate superior led him from the room, but not quickly enough to prevent Penny from making one final remark.

“You should have had that black eye seen to, Mr Becket, it looks painful.” She would need to have a chat with a certain old soldier, but Penny was sure he had been discreet.

“Someone has been in here today.” Stevie had halted immediately after walking into her flat. From her position a step or so behind, everything seemed to Penny exactly as they left it in the morning, but her companion pointed at the coffee table. “I never leave the television remote on that corner, someone has moved it.”

“Well nothing appears to be missing in here.” Penny said, trying very hard not sound dubious, “We left in an awful hurry this morning, perhaps you moved it without realising.” Stevie did not answer; as if driven by some premonition she strode into the bedroom and opened the closet. Two pairs of Steve’s trousers, and his working shirts were all that remained; every item of clothing that Stevie owned, and every pair of shoes had been removed. A quick search through the chest of drawers revealed that her all her underwear was missing too, the vanity table had been cleared of make-up, and the corner where she kept her computer was empty too. When they checked the bathroom, it had been stripped of every beauty item, even bars of scented soap, and the laundry hamper held only the clothes Stevie had worn during her attempt at being male.

They found the note on the kitchen counter, which Stevie confirmed was in her mother’s hand. If it lacked the previous evening’s blind fury, it more than made up for it with a banality that was almost chilling.

Dear Steve,

Mum

Penny stumbled into the living room and flopped down onto the sofa. She could not understand how a parent could perform such a callous violation of their child’s life; it did not help to know that she was its direct cause. Had she arranged a fortnight’s gardening leave for Steve, it would all have blown over in no time. He would have lost face for sure, and there would always be someone who would bring it up to torment him, but his and Stevie’s lives could have gone much as they had before. Penny covered her face with her hands, and wondered what the legal position was; did being guarantor on the lease permit them to access the flat without permission, or remove property. If she involved the police, without knowing Stevie’s rights, there could be all manner of complications.

Helplessness was not a familiar emotion for Penny, and it took several moments for Stevie’s laughter to penetrate her despondency. At first she assumed it to be a hysterical reaction, and who could blame the girl, however when she looked up, her young friend seemed relatively composed,

“I can’t go back to being Steve.” Stevie waved her mother’s note, then realising that Penny could not share in the joke added, "The breastform-glue’s solvent was in the bathroom; she took away the one thing that I need to dress up as him.”
Stevie waited a few moments for the situation’s irony to sink before speaking again. When Penny finally produced a smile, Stevie knelt beside and asked, “Can you take me home please?”

“But you can’t, not like that, you’ve read the letter.”

“Not their home, silly, yours.”