Chapter 2

When it comes to convenience, Mechelen really sits in the right place. Just over twenty kilometres from the campus in Antwerp, and a similar distance to the centre of Brussels and the EU headquarters. That was where some of Elaine’s family worked. Her uncle Jules was part of the security detail in the main building, while Juliette, his wife, was a secretary in the office of one of the Belgian Commissioners. There were three children, all who had left home and lived in Brussels.

They had been sent the Elaine Terrey books by Annika, but also had the French issues, purchased locally. We were going to spend the summer with them and explore the area. We had been promised an insider’s tour of the EU headquarters. My task, while we were there, was to perfect my French and to build on the Belgian Dutch that Ellie had been teaching me since we were at her home.

Within a few days, it became more than a holiday to polish my linguistic skills. Juliette had friends in a local literary club that met in Brussels, at the Café Walvis. She took us there on our second evening, to meet some of our readers. It was a heady occasion, far more fan-like than the group in Barking. As we had never been out to signings or book events, we were both surprised by our acceptance as popular authors.

It took a little while to sort out the fact that I was actually Clare Higgins, with several of the ladies there having read my earlier books. Elaine was already known for her stories, but it was also a surprise to them that we co-wrote the Pat Shelley ones, which were only just getting into the book shops. It was at that social evening where we met Madame Francoise Duval. She seemed to be a cut above the rest of the group, and they deferred to her as their natural leader. It may have been the silent man that stood by her side and looked us over with a practiced eye.

Towards the end of the evening, she took us aside and told us that she was Juliette’s boss, and an EU Commissioner. She was involved in the Development and Humanitarian Aid portfolio but had been asked to look into the ramifications of climate change. By this time, everybody had suffered under climate changes. Very hot, or very cold weather was usual, and fierce storms, tornados, twisters, and heavy rain was taking its toll all over the world. There was some speculation that it was also part of the increase in seismic activity, with several volcanos erupting after centuries of inactivity.

She asked us about the reasons that brought us to Belgium, and we explained that we were to spend a year at Antwerp as part of our BA studies. She told Juliette to be certain to bring us to her office the next day when she came to work. That was something we never expected. When we got back to the house, Jules agreed that it was unusual for one of the Commissioners to want to see a couple of students, but that it would certainly put us into a place where we could see how the EU worked.

The next day, we were up, showered, and dressed well to go into Brussels with Juliette. When we approached the EU section, we were amazed at the size of the buildings. Juliette drove down a ramp into an underground carpark of the Berlaymont, an imposing and very modern building. When we left the car, the first stop was at a security office, where we showed our passports, and they checked the list for the day. We had already been listed as visitors to see Commissioner Duval. It took about ten minutes for us to be photographed, entered into a data base, put our phones in a locker, and be issued with photo ID on a lanyard.

The offices for the Commissioners were on the Twelfth and Thirteenth Floor, which my father would have declared was dicing with fate. I suppose that he had been right, considering all the things that they had done which had messed with people’s lives. In the open secretarial office, we were introduced to Juliette’s supervisor, who took us to see Madeline, Madame Duval’s personal assistant. In her office, the gentleman we had met, briefly, last night, verified that we were the ones that Madame Duval had asked to see her. Madeline rang through to her boss, then told us that we would need to wait for a few minutes and asked us if we wanted something to drink while we waited.

It was about twenty minutes when a door opened, and Madame Duval came out to usher us into her office. She sat us by the window where we could see some of the other EU offices and made small talk until Madeline brough in a tray with cake, biscuits, and a coffee pot, along with some cups and saucers. When we had filled our cups and chosen a biscuit, she came to the point straight away.

“Clarence and Elaine, no doubt you’re wondering why I wanted to see you. I want to set you a task which I believe is well within your abilities. I have been instructed to submit a report on Climate Change to a committee of Commissioners, in a few weeks. I need a fresh outlook. Do you think that you can help me?”

We nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“All the advisers on this are old school. They are stuck in the rut which originated with the Paris Accord. I doubt that we can do anything now to reverse climate change, as I think the change is upon us. I would like the two of you to submit a report, unbiassed by the old thinking, with some ideas on what you think we should do. I’ll get Madeline to organise an office, with the proper equipment, so that Juliette can bring you in to work here as temporary employees. What do you think?”

Elaine looked at me with a sparkle in her eye.

“Madame Duval, we can only try. Tell me, will we have access to up-to-date statistics?”

“You will have whatever is on our data base. It will need to take about twenty minutes to read out, and diagrams are allowed, but no complicated tables. Thank you for taking it on. Madeline will show you the office and take your IDs to be upgraded. With the new ones, you’ll be allowed to carry your phones on you. Any problems, talk to her.”

We left the office and Madeline took us under her wing. She showed us a small office next to the open plan area, then left us to our own devices.

“Well, we’ve certainly dropped ourselves in it here, Ellie.”

“It’ll be good, Mad. She virtually told us to write something that no-one else had been brave enough to say. It’ll take several days to do the research, especially crunching the statistics, but the actual writing should be easy, once we have the details. Here comes Juliette, to see what’s going on.”

We filled Juliette in on the fact that we had been asked to write a report, and she said that she would take us to the restaurant for lunch. We turned on the equipment and started researching the latest news on the subject. Over the rest of the week, we made notes and realised that the world was in deep trouble. The EU offices were open all weekend, so Juliette loaned us her car pass and we spent some time there on Saturday.

By the middle of the next week, we had what we needed, and it only took a couple of hours to write the report. The basis of it was that no matter what the EU did, it was already too late, and that the total output of the Americas, Russia, India, and China would negate any moves forward. We posed the notion that it was time to stop trying to stem the tide, and that it was now time to spend the money on creating ways to live with what we had been given.

There was a drawing program on the system, and we drew up a sample of the sort of house that should be built. It would be elevated in case of flood, properly insulated to withstand heat and cold, equipped with enough solar cells and battery storage to be self-sufficient, with a turbine-style wind-tunnel that could be positioned to capture wind energy. It would need to be able to withstand high wind and earth tremors. The design could be enlarged into apartment blocks. We signed the report with EFT/POS and rewrote it in French and Belgian Dutch.

When we had finished, we emailed them to Madeline and tidied up the office. She came to see us before we went home with Juliette and asked us if we would come in each day for the rest of the week. She would give us work to do, and it would make it easier when it came to paying us. That was something we hadn’t even asked about.

The next day, when we looked in the office, there was a sheaf of papers on the desk, with a note asking us to write a ten-minute speech on suggestions about Humanitarian Aid, with regard to what we had said in the previous report. I called Madeline and told her that what she had asked for would take longer than the rest of the week. She asked if we minded staying, and I said that we had all the holidays before we started the new school year. I figured that we had all year to sight-see but would be able to put our time working in the EU on our resume when we needed to look for a job.

It did take a long time to do the research, checking out all the projects that the EU was involved in. There were a lot of low-lying islands that would need to be evacuated and homes supplied to the populations. Some would get by with some emergency building of sea walls. Other areas had already succumbed to the ravages of wars and famines, millions dying since the early twenty-twenties.

The speech we wrote was hard-hitting and from the heart as well as the head. Done properly, it would make a lot of people stop and think. Given after the other report had been tabled, it would make even more sense. Whatever came out of this, we had both learned a lot about the state of the world that wasn’t general knowledge, as well as a lot about research into subjects that we had never been involved in before. As before, the three reports were signed EFT/POS and emailed to Madeline.

Before we left for the night, Madeline came and told us that we would be contacted should we be needed, and to keep our ID lanyards. She gave us forms to sign, where we agreed to not say anything about our work with the EU. She also gave Juliette a card. On the Friday evening, Jules and Juliette took us to a posh restaurant for dinner. She told us that it was a present for our work, on top of what we would be paid. What made us both stop when we entered the dining area was the sight of Madame Duval already at a table, along with her husband and the President of the EU Commission with her husband. They all rose to greet us as we were shown to the table.

It was a long table, set away from others, with four seats each side. The others had already taken the four seats that faced the room. I glanced around and saw a table with four young men with watchful eyes not that far away. Madame President gestured for us to sit opposite them, as Madame Duval introduced us, by name, and also introduced the two husbands, both lawyers who worked for the Commission. As we sat, Madame President spoke.

“Welcome to this little celebration. I was shown the report that the two of you wrote and it has put a bomb under a lot of conservative thinkers who still want us to maintain the hope that we can reduce the pollution of the air. Madame Duval stunned the Commission with that speech that you wrote, which built on the report. Those who have digested both are now talking about a way forward. I thank you for helping to clear a logjam in our administration.”

“Thank you, Madame President. We only looked at the statistics and drew a different conclusion, based on our obvious ignorance of the politics. When we saw the numbers, there was no other result.”

We were quiet when the waiters came to take the orders for food and drink. Nothing more was said about the EU as we ate our meal. Instead, Madame Duval brought up our books, with a lively discussion between us and the ladies about the plots and romantic affairs, while the two lawyers looked on with slight smiles and said nothing. Madame President admitted that she liked to relax in the evening with a glass of wine and a romantic novel. It was an escape from her serious life. I had never thought that I would be talking so openly to such a well-known person, and I realised that I really liked her down-to-earth manner.

As we were drinking coffee, she looked at the two of us.

“Clarence and Elaine. The two submissions that you gave Madame Duval were well thought out and have made an impact that will become clearer as we move on. I ask that you make yourselves available to write other projects and speeches, for both her and me. I know that you will have to return to Essex when your time in Antwerp is finished, but we can give you remote access to our data base so you can do the research. There will be permanent jobs for you here when you graduate if you want careers with the EU.”

“Madame President. We appreciate the offer but can’t commit to a lifetime with the EU until we have more experience here. We have written plays that have been presented by a drama company in Colchester, and that may be a future that also beckons. I can’t see us as being authors of the sort of books that we have written for very long. They have been fun and lucrative. We may want to write something more serious. I really don’t know what lies in our future for Elaine and me, but we will put your offer on the top of our list, and we thank you for it.”

“Well said, young man. You may find that Antwerp gives you projects that give you more experience in speech writing, once you start there. The Chancellor is a friend, and I will be mentioning your abilities to her. The world is open to you both, but I think that you may take the track which allows you to make a difference in your world, rather than just entertaining the masses. You can be sure that, if you join us, the money will be enough to live well on.”

On the drive home, Juliette remarked that the evening had been very different, even if she and Jules hadn’t said a lot. She looked back at us in the back seat.

“You should really look hard at careers with the EU. I don’t know what was in the things you wrote for Francoise Duval, but it is obvious that they made an impact if the President had read them. In all my time in that office, I’ve never been aware of the President taking a couple of University students to an expensive dinner. It was a first for us, as well, and something we’ll remember for ever.”

I sat there thinking about that. As far as we were concerned, we had done a couple of projects and had been given a bonus meal. Now, I had to consider the political ramifications of what had happened tonight. The President of the EU was a very powerful person, feted wherever she went, hosted by kings and dictators, looked up to as a strong person doing an important job.

“You’re right, Juliette. Tonight was far more important that I thought it was. Being a speechwriter to the Commission would give us access to a lot of knowledge about the world and may not have us locked into living in Brussels. I think that we’ll need to give her offer some serious thought.”

Ellie gripped my hand and nodded.

On Sunday evening, we had a phone call to be with Juliette in the morning, as there would be a project for us on our desk. When we looked at it, I had to sit down and take it in. We had been asked to write a major speech for the President, based on our two previous submissions, where she explained that the EU was changing tack and moving towards living with the change, rather than trying to fight it.

We would need to supply the answers to questions that may be asked afterwards. It would be vetted by her other speechwriters so to expect some resistance. We would be able to expand of our housing ideas and an architect would be available. We were given six weeks to polish it, which would give us a couple of weeks before the next term. There was a note saying that we could refuse to go further, and we wouldn’t be thought bad of if we did. All that was needed was a voice-over telling us that the papers would ignite in five seconds.

We sat at the desks and read the papers through, more than once, and then started talking.

“Mad, this is serious. If we take this on, we’ll be writing words that will change Europe. Can we just walk away?”

“I don’t think that walking away is an option anymore, Ellie. We wrote what we thought was the truth, and it’s found a willing believer. This isn’t writing as entertainment; it’s writing to direct a change of fundamental policy. Think of it as a play. We have something that is the hook – the U-turn on climate change. This would be the second act, where the cast move things forward towards act three, where there is the great victory. The only difference will be that there’s no great victory, just everybody getting by instead of fighting an unwinnable battle.”

“That sounds morbid.”

“The whole thing is morbid. You saw the figures. If nothing is done, a lot of people die, are displaced, become refugees. If what we proposed is taken up, the world can try to get ahead of the problems before we’re overwhelmed. What do you want to do?”

“What I want to do is to graduate from University with a good job that makes a difference. We will never find one like this in a million years. I think that we should do what has been asked and see where it goes. At the very least, we’ll get paid for what could be considered a summer job.”

I went to her and kissed her.

“That’s fighting talk when we put it in a novel. Who knows, this may give us plenty of background for a book or a play.”

We turned the equipment on and started formulating a plan. Thinking of the things that we needed further research on. Before we joined Juliette for lunch, we were visited by a gentleman who introduced himself as from the finance section. He wanted our banking and personal details so that we would be paid for our time, with the payments made monthly and tax taken as Belgian residents. There were ways, he explained, where we could clear things with the British taxation office, which he would help with, should it be needed.

Now, speechwriting is very much like writing dialogue in a book, or an actors lines in a play. I think it may have been our skills with those that had attracted us to Madame Duval. There has to be strong words, periods of explanation, some lighter moments where hope is offered, and should leave the listener believing that what they’ve just heard is the only way to go. It’s been the mainstay of politicians since pre-history.

One of the first things we did was email Madeline if she could give us any indication of who the immediate audience would be, as that would set the initial tone of the speech. When it was shown on the TV news, there would be only short grabs with the salient facts, rather than any background, which would be then provided by talking heads dissecting the words. She replied that it would be given at a televised news release. We had it in some sort of form after two weeks.

The architect had been to see us and had the basic house plan we had devised and had enlarged on it with his own knowledge. We had been in meetings with other speechwriters where we had to defend our position from attacks by some stuck in the ‘lower greenhouse gases’ mindset. It was the hardest that the two of us had worked on such a short piece, but it was interesting, and it broadened our horizons like nothing else we could have done.

We had both been paid as employees at the end of the month, and it was considerably more than any summer job I had worked before. The day we emailed the three versions to Madeline, we sat back and smiled.

“Ellie, my darling. That was the most exciting thing we’ve written. We won’t know how much of it gets used, unless we’re at the event. There may be bits on the TV that we recognise. I think we thought of all the questions. The only question we have no answer for is if someone asks if Madame President has lost her mind. I think she may have a standard answer to that one already.”

“It’s made me think about a new book. It would be a romantic adventure story, set in real life on one of the low-lying islands. Our heroine, Marie Concorde, is working for an NGO and has to save the population from inundation as the waters rise. There can be resistance to change, some violence, and trials to overcome. On the way she finds love with the leader of the resistance group, bringing him around to her way of thinking, and being the last couple to board a plane as a tsunami approaches the island.”

“That’s a great idea. Let’s see if we can make a start on it during our placement. We still have to find out what they have in store for us.”

We tidied up the office, for what we thought would be the last time, and went home with Juliette, that evening, starting to think about our future studies. A few days later, we had an email from the University, telling us that we had a meeting to attend on the following Wednesday, in the week before the term started.

We relaxed until the day, just looking around Mechelen and going to Antwerp to check out the University. When we arrived at the reception and told the girl on duty who we were, she gave us a map of the campus with a route to the Chancellor’s office marked. When I knocked on the door, it opened, and we saw a smiling lady who ushered us in and sat us on easy chairs.

“Welcome to Antwerp, you two. I had good reports about you from Essex, but I never thought that I would have my old friend from the Commission telling me how you’ve helped her. We have been advised that you are to be available to the Commission during your time here. Is that all right with you?”

We both agreed that it had been spoken about.

“Right. I will give you some projects to do here, but you don’t have to do them on campus. I’ve been told that you have an office available to you in Brussels, so you can work on them there and email your assignments in. I will be advised about your work with the Commission, which will go towards your assessment. You will be given the usual student ID should you need to visit us, but you’ll also get remote access to our data base, although I believe you already have access to the Commission data base, so you should have everything at your fingertips.”

She went to her desk and came back with a shopping bag.

“Now, before you go, can I please have your autographs on these books?”

Marianne Gregory © 2024

Chapter 3

When we left the Chancellor’s office, we could hardly stop giggling. There we were, two students who were about to start a year with the University, and all we were asked for was our signatures on her collection of books!

We utilised the campus map we had been given and went around to look at the various buildings where we would have been studying, then found the canteen for a drink and talk.

“It looks as if the President has spoken to the Chancellor and sealed our fate.”

“Looks like it, Mad. I suppose that it’s an honour to be able to study with our own office at the Commission. I wonder what assignments we’ll be given.”

We spent the rest of the day exploring Antwerp. We looked around the countryside until the first day of the new term and went into Brussels with Juliette to see what lay in store for us. On the office desk were some papers, one of which was a car pass so we could take the Citroen to work and park in a spot that had been saved for us. That, alone, seemed more permanent than I expected.

There was another speech to be written. This time it was to be given at a gathering of journalists. It had a number of topics that would have to be included, and the references to those were added, so that we could research them. The reason that we had been given this task was that it was expected that there would be a question about climate change. The President wanted to foreshadow the new direction, without laying down any detail. There was a handwritten note that said that she wanted to announce the change in direction when asked about an extreme weather event and was waiting for that event to provide the right time.

In the period up until Christmas, we wrote five more speeches and two more reports, all based on our original work. It looked as if we were going to be the ones held responsible should things go wrong. We also wrote several chapters of the new book, which we called ‘The Last Wave’. On top of that, we had an assignment to write a play, in Belgian Dutch, to be produced by the university drama group in Spring. While all this was going on, we kept getting a monthly salary and was now paying Juliette for our lodgings.

The extreme weather event occurred in early December. Europe experienced its lowest temperatures on record. Everyone was snowed in and had to wait for snowploughs to clear the roads. Even then, it was too dangerous to drive anywhere. We stayed at home and did our work by email, with our on-line links to both the University and the Commission.

The President called for a press conference, using Zoom, which attracted journalists from all over the world. We were emailed to join it, so sat, with Juliette and Jules, with our laptop connected to the TV. She used our speech, word for word, and created a whirlwind of questions. She then read from our report, as well as the more detailed one that had been produced later. Elaine and I couldn’t help ourselves and coaxed her as she spoke, even though she couldn’t hear us. When it was over, we were both exhausted.

“So, that’s what you two have been up to! You realise that this will reshape the future, don’t you?”

“Yes, Juliette, we do realise that. What we didn’t realise was how addictive being part of policymaking was. We’re not sure about going back to Essex now this has happened. I’m sure that we will be expected to follow this through. We’ll just have to wait and see what the President and Madame Duval have in store for us.”

I agreed with Ellie but was wondering if we would ever finish our degrees, or even if it would be worth anything. We had seen a lot of the data that was a closely kept secret, and, maybe, we should have studied survival techniques instead.

A few minutes later, the laptop pinged with an incoming email from the Commission. I called it up and we all looked at it on the big screen, with Juliette gasping as she read it. Ellie and I had been recalled to the Commission, and to pack for an extended stay. There would be a double room available to us in the building, and there would be a helicopter arriving in two hours to pick us up. We didn’t hang around, and quickly packed all of our things in the suitcases that we had brought from England. Jules and Juliette were helpful, as both realised that we were now an important part of the Commission.

We heard the helicopter arrive as it came in and landed in the street, which had two snowploughs go down it while we were packing. We hugged our hosts and Jules helped us lug our cases to the helicopter, wading over the snowdrift which was hiding the front fence. We strapped in and put the headphones on as Jules trudged back to the house and the pilot increased the rotor revs. Ellie was able to wave at her uncle and aunt as we lifted off from the street. On the other side, I could see the neighbours looking on. Jules was going to have a lot of questions to answer in the next few days.

We didn’t take long to get to Brussels, and landed on the roof of the Berlaymont, where a couple of the security detail were waiting for us, carrying our bags to the rooftop entrance as the helicopter took off again. We followed them to a lift, and then along a passage on a lower floor, until we arrived at a corridor that looked as if it could be in a hotel. Nothing had been said until one of the men opened a door with a pass card and then gave it to me.

“This will be your home for a while. We have been instructed to look after the two of you. The President issued the orders herself. There is a map that will guide you up to your office when you need to get there. Make yourselves at home and be ready to meet with the Commissioners this afternoon. You will get a phone call and one of us will be outside the door to show you where to go when you are ready.”

We went in and the door closed. We hugged and kissed, releasing some of the tension that had built up since the beginning of the Zoom meeting. It took a little while to sort the jumble of clothes from the cases and put them away. Only then did we look around what could be classed a suite if it was a hotel. We had the bedroom, an ensuite, and an open plan lounge dining room, with a kitchen. The fridge held ready to microwave meals, cold meats, spreads, as well as milk and ice cream. The cupboard had bread and breakfast foods. The only thing that the suite didn’t have was windows, so we wondered if there were other corridors where the rooms had outside views. One thing was certain, we were very secure and warm.

We made ourselves a sandwich and brewed a pot of tea, plugging the laptop in and quietly working on ‘The Last Wave’ until the phone rang. When we opened the door, one of the security men led us to a lift, inserting a key when the doors were closed. As the lift descended without any floor numbers showing, he gave us new IDs to put around our necks. When the doors opened, we walked out into a corridor which looked as if it was part of a military base. He led us to a door which had two armed guards, who checked our credentials before letting us in.

The room was like any master control room of the best thriller movies. There was a huge semi-circular table with chairs, plus more chairs behind them. In front, there were big screens and a dais, with a desk and chair, stood to one side. Many of the seats were already occupied and there was a general hubbub of conversations as an army officer of one of the NATO countries gave us a welcoming smile and led us to some seats behind Madame Duval. She stood and hugged us both as we arrived.

“Welcome, my friends, to the real seat of power. This is where you will see, and hear, some things that can never be repeated outside this room. The President will be addressing us, as soon as we can get all the Commissioners seated. With her speech, this morning, a lot has been said that will not be unsaid, even if a lot of EU and NATO members don’t like it. This is a planning session for next year. Don’t even think of writing anything as notes. You will be given the summary by your access to the data base. There will be a lot of speeches given over the next few months. You may have to accompany the President on her trips. Are you up for it?”

“Madame Duval, we are ready to serve the President in any way we can. I realised that our degrees were not as important as the survival of the human race. We can always finish the courses once we have helped. We both consider it an honour to be part of such a momentous occasion.”

“You may not consider an honour when other leaders heap criticism on the plans. It will undermine their very hold on power if they have to look out for their citizens. Some may even disregard the EU edicts altogether and look for a place where they can take their money and shelter from the storm. The next year is critical, and today we begin a long journey. Now, sit down, make yourselves comfortable and soak it in. There are toilets over on that side wall. The sound is piped to them, so you won’t miss anything.”

We sat and looked around the room in wonder. As it filled, there were also heads of state joining us by a secure link, their faces showing on one of the big screens. It took around twenty minutes before everyone was present and the President went to the dais and the room went quiet. She welcomed everyone to the meeting, then went through the long list of heads of state, and then the representatives of those NATO countries that were not part of the EU.

As they were acknowledged, an amber light showed on a board. If being part of the policymaking was addictive, being here was intoxicating. We sat, our hands gripped, while the situation was worked through, while the suggestions that she had put forward were discussed. The meeting ran for over six hours, and we were served drinks and nibbles by attendants in military uniforms.

As each head of state was asked how they felt about the proposals, you could see a lot of them were happy to be freed of the unrealistic concepts of the Paris Accord and beyond. It was easier to sell to their citizens that the money was going to be spent protecting them from the weather, rather than trying to hold the changes back. As they agreed to follow, a green light showed beside their names.

There were only a few red lights, mainly from the countries that were full-blown dictatorships that would never follow the others, if only by historical stubbornness. After the full list of EU members were completed, the NATO countries were asked if they were happy. I had the sudden realisation that we, in this room, were on the screens of those leaders. This meant that I was sitting here, looking at Kings and Presidents, while they could see me if they looked closely. I was sure that their security people were already studying the feed to identify all those in this room.

As the pressure in the room was released, I knew that we had been vindicated. If the lights had all been red, instead of mostly green, we two may have been fed to the wolves as dreamers, rather than as oracles. Madeline turned to us with a smile.

“It is exciting, yes? This is the first big meeting where we had so many agree. I think that we will move forward quickly, now. You could see the relief on a lot of those faces when they were told that they don’t have to pretend to be King Canute anymore. The Americans and British on our side is very good. All we have to do now is bring in the other first-world countries and we can set up making goods to work with the weather. It will mean a lot of jobs in manufacturing, building, and heavy engineering, not to mention earthworks and civil engineering in the low-lying areas.”

Madame Duval was just sitting back in her chair, eyes closed, when the President strode towards us.

“Madeline, can you escort our two heroes to my private dining room in about thirty minutes. Francoise, you can join us. I believe that we deserve a quiet dinner after all that excitement.”

She then left the room with a small cloud of aides hovering around her. She had been magnificent, holding the meeting together, answering questions from the heads of state, and generally steering a big portion of the world along the path she had chosen. The path, I thought with a sense of pride, that Ellie and I had laid out in front of her.

We took time out to visit the toilets and then followed Madeline and Madame Duval to the Thirteenth floor, where we went into a dining room with a view out over the snow-covered city. We had a lovely dinner, with the President toasting the rest of us for an idea that could save civilisation. Towards the end, my eyes were getting heavy, and we were excused. When we left the room, our security detail was there to escort us back to our room. I was so tired from such a long day, I doubt that I could have found it, unaided.

He didn’t say anything until we reached our door.

“Here we are. Have a good sleep, you both deserve it. I doubt that I’ll ever know what you did to be sitting in a full conference for over six hours, and then get a private dinner with the President, but whatever it is, you have earned my respect and also that of my colleagues.”

We hardly had time to undress before we were in bed and asleep, only needing to get up to use the ensuite. I was awake and had the kettle on when there was a knock on the door. I had a towelling robe on so opened it to find an attendant with a tray with two full breakfasts. He set it on the dining table, and I thanked him as he left. The smell of bacon and eggs must have woken Ellie, as she joined my at the table. I poured the tea, and we tucked in. I had read about heavy brainwork making you hungry but had never fully understood how many calories you burn when you are just sitting and concentrating.

We finished breakfast, showered and dressed, mainly in silence. I think that we both needed to process yesterday at our own time. When we left the room, we followed a new security man up to our office. When we had turned everything on, Madeline came to tell us to start writing discussion papers for the President. There was to be one for every head of state that we had seen on the screens. She gave us a password that allowed us access to the private files on each leader, so that we could include any carrot or stick that they would react to.

With what we learned about the private foibles of the leaders, I realised that we must have been thoroughly vetted before we had been given our first task. There was no way a couple of kids would be given this kind of information just because they were good writers. With what was in the files, we could graft an argument that would weld the subject to the plan. Even the dictators had things that they would rather not be made public. There is a saying about knowing where the bodies are buried. In a couple of cases, there were more than a few bodies, literally.

A few days later, there was an emergency meeting of the EU Parliament, mainly to legislate the new path. With the previous meeting getting most of the countries on side, it didn’t take long to come to a decision and form new committees to start working on the future plans. We were in the public gallery to see it, and the holdouts from the previous meeting didn’t vote against any of the motions, but merely abstained. Just before Christmas, the weather thawed enough for Juliette to come to work. When she saw the ID tags we now took as normal, she looked serious.

“In all my time here, I’ve only seen a handful of those tags. Normally on diplomats and world leaders going to see Madame Duval. I won’t ask what you’re up to, but I will say that we are proud of you both. Can you find out if you can come home for Christmas? If so, I’ll plan a big day for us. If you’ve been here since you flew off, there wouldn’t have been time for you to get any presents, so just get a few bottles of wine from the restaurant. I’m sure that, with those tags, they won’t mind giving you a few.”

We went and spoke to Madeline, and she got back to us later in the day.

“You can go home with Juliette today, if you want. Madame President will want you back on the first full week after New Year. She is planning a trip to talk to other countries that were not at that meeting. If you leave your passports with me, I’ll get them duplicated with EU diplomatic ones. Have a good holiday, you deserve it.”

We told Juliette that we would be joining her on the trip home, but she would have to wait while we packed our bags. When we did join her at her car, she watched, in amazement, as our security detail loaded our cases in the back. We shook their hands and told them that we would see them in the New Year and to have a good break. On the way out of the car park, Juliette was just shaking her head. On the main road north, she had to say something.

“First, I see you with high level security tags, and then you have a couple of the security guys carry the cases for you. Don’t tell Jules, he’ll be jealous.”

“We won’t tell him anything, auntie. We picked those guys up when we landed with the helicopter, and they’ve been with us ever since. It was a good job too, as I couldn’t even find the room we were staying in again, unless they led us there. They’ve been really friendly.”

We made sure our tags were out of sight when we got home. It was a relief to be in the outside world again. We had been able to get a few good bottles of wine when we asked, so these went into the chiller for Christmas. We had a few days break and used a lot of it talking to our families on the phone. Perhaps some of the tricks of being a diplomat had rubbed off on us, as I found it easy to tell mine that we were doing well, and that the University was wonderful. Ellie told hers that we had been very busy, as Juliette had already told them that we had been whisked off by helicopter. Her father was able to deduce that there were things we weren’t allowed to talk about, so she wasn’t grilled.

Between Christmas and New Year, we worked hard on the play that we were supposed to write, emailing it to the lecturer who was going to direct it. We also finished ‘The Last Wave’ and emailed it to Madame Duval with the query to vet it for anything we should take out.

We had been back in the office a week before we had an invitation to see Madame Duval. Madeline ushered us in, and we were, once again, sitting in easy chairs with tea and cake.

“Elaine and Clarence. The story that you sent me was really beautiful. It also fitted in with what we need to overcome this year. The President has read it and has written a foreword for you. She has also written a rider for you to send to your editor when you submit it. We both think that it’s the best thing you’ve written, and that’s saying something.”

“No changes?”

“No, it’s perfect as it is. We would like to see it in print as soon as possible; that’s what the note to your publisher asks. It addresses some of the problems we will be trying to overcome.”

That afternoon, we emailed the story to our publisher, as an Elaine Terrey and Patricia Shelley story. We scanned the foreword and the letter and attached them as well. He replied two days later, saying that it would be in print once it had been proofread. A week later, we were told to be ready for travel. We didn’t need to pack heavy items as we would be going to visit Pacific Islands and it was quite hot on the other side of the world.

We didn’t know what to expect, perhaps first class on one of the EU airlines. What did happen was that we had two light cases when we went to the office, which were whisked away by our security detail. The next time we saw them was when they were being loaded onto one of the French President’s planes, at a military base, after we had been taken there in larger helicopters.

We were allocated a pair of recliner seats, with our two, ever-present, security guys at the back of the plane, along with some others. We had our diplomatic passports, now stamped by a smiling Airforce Captain. The itinerary for the flight was to go to Mayotte and Reunion in the Indian Ocean. After that there were several stops in the Pacific Islands. Then we were heading for Canberra and Auckland for discussions with those leaders.

Then it was back north to see New Caledonia and then diplomatic visits to Indonesia, the Philippines and Japan. We would be spending some time visiting French Guiana. After that, it was just island hopping in the Caribbean before our last stop at St-Pierre, in the Atlantic, off the coast of Canada. The trips to the French Territories were mainly to let them know that there would be support should they need to be evacuated, with a visit from the Commission President, travelling in one of the French President’s planes, showing how much authority she had.

We were six weeks flying around. There were times that we could go swimming in the warm seas, but a lot of our flight times was writing a cheat sheet for the President so she could ask about the various family members of the leaders we were visiting. We could whip these up in English or French, depending on where we landed. It was a hectic time, and we saw a lot of the world and met a lot of people.

One of the highlights of the trip happened in Canberra. We were walking through the terminal, heading for a meeting, when we saw ‘The Last Wave’ in a booksellers window, marked as ‘Read the latest Best Seller!’ Madeline made the assistant’s day when she bought twenty copies to go with us for others to read, and us to sign.

Marianne Gregory © 2024

Chapter 4

Of course, our extended trip couldn’t escape the media. One of the French President’s planes, carrying the EU Commission President and a team of diplomats was unlikely to fly under the radar. There were crowds at many of the airports when we landed, especially once we cleared the Indian Ocean.

Elaine and I sent postcards to our parents from various places, not telling them what we were doing, but they would have figured it out if they saw the news. We sent one to our publisher, from Canberra, thanking him for his speedy service in getting the book into publication. We thought that the ‘Best Seller’ tag was purely advertising until we got to Auckland, where the book seller had a sign in the window, apologising for not having a copy of it.

He sent me an email, telling me that he was organising a signing tour in England, timed for the beginning of the summer holidays, as he was mindful of our course importance to us. We put that on the back burner until we had completed our round the world tour. Eventually, we landed back at the military base we had left, all those weeks before. As we taxied towards the hangars, the President stood and told us how proud she was of everyone on the trip, and that we had been able to get the territories we had visited to agree to work with the EU, rather than against it. The other countries had heard her out and agreed to discuss the situation rationally, which was all she hoped for. Other diplomats were doing similar trips to their countries.

There were helicopters waiting to ferry us back to the office, with the countryside looking much greener than it was when we left. Madeline told us that we had a couple of weeks off, so to go home with Juliette at the end of the day. We saw Juliette, who hugged us both, and told her we would be with her that afternoon. Then we tidied up the office and looked at all the messages that had accumulated on our desk screen, answering those that needed it.

On the drive home, Juliette remarked on our obvious suntans, and also the fact that we both seemed more adult. She knew where we had been, and had read the book, noting the foreword by the President. She also said that there was a few letters for us to look at when we got home. It was common knowledge of where we had visited, so we talked about some of the places we had seen, and the people we had met, without divulging any of the work we had done.

Once Juliette had known we were coming home, she had booked a table at the local restaurant for dinner that night. As we were getting ready, I looked at the post. One was an invitation for the opening night of our play, at the University, on the following Saturday, with a number to ring if we were coming. I called the number and spoke to the secretary, saying that we were able to attend, and asked for four tickets.

Another letter was from our publisher. In it, there was a list of engagements for Elaine Terrey and Patricia Shelley to sign their books in big bookstores across the country. It seemed that the success of this book had boosted the sales of our earlier works. He had underlined Patricia Shelley. I showed it to Ellie, wondering what he could mean by the underline.

“Mad. You can be so slow sometimes. You used a female name with your early books, not expecting to be seen in public. Now, we have a best seller and the public expect to see two women writers of romantic adventures. You can’t just turn up and tell them that you’ve been lying to them all this time. You either don’t show at all, or you do it as Patricia. You’re a good size, and you do have an elfin sort of face. It’s time that you played the sort of role that you’re so good at creating, a successful woman.”

“You can’t be serious, Ellie! I don’t know the first thing about being a woman. I would look, and act, stupid. It’ll never work!”

“We have a few months to make it work, Mad. I want you by my side when we meet the readers, if you have to do that wearing a dress then so be it! Look, there are no photos of us on the book covers, and the publisher has basically ordered us to show up as women. It’s now time for you to embrace the nickname your brother gave you, and which we have been using for months. You told me that it stood for Extra Feminine, Totally Puny, Odorous Sibling. We can manufacture the first third, you need to own the second, and the third is easy if you start using my lotions. When we’re at the University, we’ll have a talk to the director of our play and ask him what he thinks. I won’t think any less of you if you try, in fact, it will make me prouder to be your wife.”

The dinner was good, and the talk was about the places and people we had been to and seen. The book was brought up, and we told Juliette what the publisher wanted us to do. She was, at first, sad that we would be going back to England, but we told her that a lot would depend on how the Commission work went. We were sure that the hard part was over, but the President may want us around for the work to come.

“We were fortunate to be in the right place at the right time, Juliette. We know that if the original paper we wrote fell on deaf ears, we would have just been going into Antwerp, instead of working in Brussels. Let’s wait and see what the year brings.”

“Yes, but him wanting you to pretend you’re a girl! That’s laughable!”

“We’re not laughing, Auntie. He’s right. The readers expect two women writers, and we’re going to give them two women writers. We have the University Drama Club to help. We’ll see what they can do for us here, so that Patricia can emerge before we go to England for the tour. Madeline told us that we will be able to take our annual leave from the Commission, and then it will depend on what Essex says. They may let us finish the course here.”

As we ate, my mind started thinking about a plot for another book, following on with the concepts of ‘Wave’. I was thinking about a building project using the new plans that had been developed for living with the change. I wondered about the main character being a man in charge of the project, with the female being a rural hold-out who hates any desecration of her countryside. They find a central path with the project as well as love after much friction, moving into the first house to be finished.

Over the next few days, I made notes and talked it over with Ellie. It was put on hold on the weekend when we went into Brussels on Saturday morning to get something to wear at the play, seeing that we were the writers. Before lunch, we had a session at a salon that Juliette knew, with the girls getting a make-over to suit the dresses they had bought, and me having my hair trimmed and styled to give it more body. When I looked in the mirror, I thought that I looked a bit like Oscar Wilde.

We drove to the theatre in the afternoon. The invitation had stipulated an afternoon tea with the Chancellor and the play director. Jules and I were resplendent in new suits, and the girls were radiant in cocktail dresses. When I looked at them, I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how stupid I would look like in one.

The afternoon tea was a lot bigger than I was expecting. The Chancellor was there with her husband, the director was there with his wife. There was also Madame Duval and Madame President with their husbands. There was another couple at the table, a theatre director from Amsterdam and her husband, a scene designer. We found out that the Chancellor had invited them to see the play, considering the plot and the writers.

‘Don’t Water the Tulips’ was simple, but the relationships within the cast was complicated. As it was in the Belgian Dutch language, and because of where we were, along with the unfolding situation, the concept came easily. The first scene takes place in a council chamber, where the vote is being taken to improve the local dyke. The council doesn’t want to spend the money, saying that their engineers had told them that the dyke was good for another twenty years or more.

There is a small group of protesters who revolt as the debate carries on, with the female actor shouting about ensuring that the tulip fields are saved from an impending flood. The scene ends with the protesters being escorted from the chamber and the mayor declaring that common sense has prevailed. The second act has the actress brooding while at an outside café table. She is approached by a young man, who had been in the chamber but had said nothing. He asks her if he could talk to her, and she reluctantly lets him sit. It turns out that he is part of the engineering group that had given the report to the council, but that he didn’t agree with it. He could do nothing to sway his employers, as he needs the job. They talk about the problem, and then each other, with the scene ending in them agreeing to make a stand.

The second half is also in two scenes, the first with the couple and other protesters making plans to put together a crowd funding campaign to pay for an independent survey and report, with that campaign taking off to ‘Save the Tulips!’ The final scene is back in the council chamber, where a special meeting has been called. The council are adamant that their decision stands, and the protesters ask that their report be heard, at the very least.

The report highlights the discrepancies of the original report, with the new one expecting that the dyke would be breached within five years. When the mayor exclaims that it wouldn’t happen, figures worked out by respected engineers are quoted. The final statement that the presenter gives is the amount of low-lying land that would be lost, and then offers up a map of the new coastline, pointing out that eighty percent of the higher ground was owned by the mayor and several of the councillors, with an estimation of how much more the new waterside property would be worth. There was a representative from the government present, who immediately shuts the council down. The lovers kiss, he gives her a tulip, and he declares that all they need now is to start raising the dyke, but that it was now a possibility.

Over the course of the afternoon tea, I put forward our dilemma to the table. The director from Amsterdam was already flustered that she was sitting with the Commission President, now doubled when she found out that the two of us were the authors of a runaway best selling book. There was a lot of discussion about what we should do, but the final decision was that I needed to present as Patricia, to keep credibility, and to nail it to make sure that it continued.

We were given a guided tour of the arts section of the campus, and dropped in on the cast as they were preparing themselves for the performance. To them, we were just a couple of overseas students on a placement year. After that, there was a formal dinner, with our numbers swelled by members of the University board and some other local dignitaries. We were then taken to the theatre, which was starting to fill with patrons and a few from the media. We were all sat in the front row, and you could tell that the media had picked up on the fact that Madame President was there.

The play had been well rehearsed, and the student actors were very good in their parts. At the half-time break, the Amsterdam director said that she wanted to perform it there, and Madame President said that the Commission would help fund it, considering the link with the current situation.

At the end of the play, and after a couple of curtain calls, the Chancellor pulled us with her as she went up on stage. When the applause had died down, the thanked the cast and director for the performance, and then introduced Ellie and me as the writers of the script and stage directions.

“These two wonderful writers have been with us here, in Antwerp, for nearly a year. In that time, they have been working within the EU headquarters in Brussels, writing speeches for my friend, the Commission President. What they have done has fully fulfilled their obligations to their course, and they will be sent back to England, safe in the knowledge that their future is assured. I give you Clarence Higgins, who has some notoriety as being the person a lot of us ladies know and love as Clare Higgins, a writer of romantic stories.”

There was some applause at that and a lot of smiles from the ladies in the audience.

“I know that it should be ladies first, but Elaine Terrey should need no introduction. She is an author of books under her own name, but is better known, today, as one half of the writing duo that brought us the latest best-selling book, ‘The Last Wave’. Unfortunately, the other half of the team could not be with us tonight, but we look forward to meeting Patricia Shelley later in the year.”

There was more applause and then there was the after-show party. We were besieged by readers wanting to ask us questions about our ideas, our plans and our personal lives. Madeline had been in the audience and helped us deal with the media, staying clear of our work with the Commission. She told us that we now had orders to work with the director to coach me in the ways of womanhood, and that was our main aim until we went back to England. We would be contacted by email, should we be needed. When we left to drive home, the two of us had to be woken up when we arrived.

After the play had finished its run, we contacted the director. He sent back a list of measurements that Ellie needed to take of my body, with a chart of the local sizes. We had a few days to go and get some clothes, as well as a set of basic cosmetics. He had sent a list of places to go and would organise the rest.

We went into Brussels, to a shop that he had recommended. It was one that catered to theatrical people, including drag acts. With the measurements, they came up with an underwear set that gave me boobs, enhanced my butt, thinned my waist, and hid my penis but still allowed me to use the toilet, as long as I sat. We took three sets, a white, black, and red one. When I had tried them on, I was surprised at the look it gave me, and wondered if the idea would work.

After that, we bought the least showy of the dresses, one that I could wear in the street, as well as a pair of the lowest heels they had, only two inch. When I was fully dressed, I looked in the mirror and I saw myself as Patricia for the first time. I looked awkward and something was missing. It was my very plain face perched on top of a woman’s body. The odd thing was, the hair style that made me look like Oscar Wilde, now made me look like an older Shirley Temple.

The shop had recommended a salon that they worked with. It wasn’t far away, and Ellie decided we would drop my bags in the car and walk, to get me to learn walking in heels. We took it slow, arm in arm, as she whispered instructions on how I should hold myself to conform to her strides. I never felt so exposed to the world before. It was the most frightening hundred yards I had ever walked, but we made it to the salon without someone calling out bad names. The previous shop had phoned ahead, so we were expected.

I was expected to take the dress off and wear a smock, while they reworked my hair to be more of a feminine style. As I watched it being transformed, in the mirror, I realised that my brother must have seen something in me, all those years ago, that had never crossed my mind. It made me sit there and wonder if he had been more sensitive to things than I had thought. The fact that he couldn’t keep girlfriends was another factor. Perhaps we may be able to have a serious discussion without him dashing off.

By the time the girl had finished, I didn’t look like Shirley any longer, more like Taylor Swift in a short wig. From that chair, I was taken to another room and laid on a table as I was waxed again, this time on my arms and legs. They told me that I would need to get my body done if I was expected to wear a bikini. I asked them to do it now, so undressed fully to let them do their worst. After that, I was dressed in the underwear and back in the other chair. I was starting to get with the flow, as the process was all to make me look good, something that I had never thought about. Come to think about it, there was a lot that I was learning that had never crossed my mind.

The girl looking after me was holding colour strips against my face, as if to check a paint tone. She then went away, coming back with a tray of cosmetics, which she set on the side, before working on my face with waxing strips. So told me that she needed to choose my palette before I was all pink from the waxing, as my face would be a more normal colour the next day. I could follow the logic, so went along with it. I needed to close my eyes so she could work on the lids, only to open them with a start as something stung my earlobe, followed by another the other side.

When I looked in the mirror again, I saw what looked like a pretty girl, with gold studs in her ears, kissable lips and big eyes. It took a little longer for them to work on my fingers and toenails, after which, Ellie was back with some more shopping bags.

“Wow, Pat, you look wonderful! I’ve been to get some basics for you, in places where you might still get embarrassed.”

She had been to a lingerie shop and got me some nighties, slips, stockings and other items. She also had a shoulder bag, already containing feminine items which I should never need, and a pack of tissues. It was then added to with all the cosmetics that had been used on me, along with a sheet of directions about caring for my ears. The cost was, I thought, a bit high, but how much does a new woman cost these days?

We put the bags in the car, and then walked into the main shopping street, window shopping and then going into dress shops. Looking the way I did, I started to feel less of a freak, but wondered about some of the looks I got from men. We bought items that we could both wear, being exactly the same size now, and it became a bit of a game to choose things to make her look good, which, somehow, made me look good as well.

We were sitting in a café, having a light lunch, when she rang Madeline. The reason for the call was that my ID tag was now out of date, seeing that I looked nothing like the photo. When she had listened for a while, she put the phone in her bag.

“We have an appointment at the Commission, tomorrow. You have to take your diplomatic passport and your ID. Madeline is going to organise a replacement.”

I then made a call to the director, organising sessions with him the following week. He told me to come in, fully dressed, as my lessons would be in movement and deportment, with some time with a voice coach. I put the phone back in my bag, joining all the other things and my wallet.

“Ellie, dear, if this bag is to pass muster, I need a purse and one of those folders for my cards.”

Our next stop was at a leather shop to fix that oversight. I was starting to feel my feet hurting, so our last stop was a shoe shop, where we got some better fitting shoes, a pair of boots, and a couple of pairs of heels which I was sure would hurt even more. It had been an expensive day, but Ellie kept telling me that we were likely to be quite rich as the books sold, and that to present as Patricia Shelley, the investment was money well spent.

The arrival of Juliette when she had finished work was quite funny. She didn’t laugh out loud, but she did smile. It was only when she hugged me and whispered that I was pretty that I realised that she was happy to see me this way. Jules also gave me a hug and we had dinner as we usually did, with general discussion. That night, I found out about cleansing and moisturising, and sleeping in a nightie with glued-on boobs.

The next day, we went into the Commission, where Madeline was waiting for us in the security room. She took my ID and passport, and I was photographed. We waited until she came back with a new ID for me, with my new picture and in the name of Patricia Olivia Shelley. With that, we went up to the offices and had a meeting with Madame Duval. I still felt awkward, but nobody pointed any of my mistakes out, except the one time I sat down with my legs wide, which caused Ellie to point at me and cross her fingers.

We went into our office and caught up with emails, then went home again. I was spending all day as Patricia, and it was starting to feel almost normal. The biggest problem that I was having was putting on tights with long nails and not destroying them. The other thing was not poking myself in the eyes when I attempted to use the make-up.

The next week we went to the University, where I was given lessons to finely hone my movements, my talking with using gestures, my walking in various heels, and some time with a speech coach to feminise my talk, in both sound and content. At the end of the week, I could move, and talk, like Patricia, which made it a bit odd when the Chancellor called us to her office to give us our yearly assessments, with mine as Clarence Higgins.

We had both been given high marks, with her saying that we had more than earned them with the work we had done. She complimented me on how well I had embraced my new look and looked forward to us coming back to Antwerp as part of a signing tour. I had been signing as Patricia on scrap paper, to get used to writing with the nails getting in the way, so we both signed her copy of the book for her, the first of the hundreds to come.

Back home, it was time to call our parents and tell them that we would be back in England, and that we had a slightly different look about us. That was going to be fun!

Marianne Gregory © 2024

Chapter 5

Ellie called her family first, to let them know that we would pop in when we were in Norfolk. There was a signing session at a bookstore in Norwich, after which we had a day off. It was her mother that brought up the problem with it being written by two women, which allowed Ellie to tell her that she would send a picture of the new me to her phone. She did this when she had finished the call.

Then I rang the publisher first, to confirm that there would be two women at the signing table. Ellie sent him the picture of me. He said that he would have time to get posters out when he got the picture. He had given us a week after the finish of the course, but, with the fact that we had been allowed to finish early, we had just over two weeks before we were needed at the first venue, a big store in London. We looked up the area on the internet and booked ourselves into a nearby hotel for a couple of nights.

“Come on, Mad. You’re only trying to put off the inevitable. Ring your home!”

I rang my old home, somewhere I hadn’t slept now for over three years. Mum picked it up.

“Hello, Mum, it’s Clarence.”

“Lovely to hear your voice, dear. You do sound a little different. Have you caught a cold?”

“It’s not a cold, Mum. Have you read the new book? I’m sorry that I didn’t send you a copy, but we were somewhere between South Africa and Australia when it came out.”

“My you do get around. Yes, I’ve read it, and so has everyone I know. That’s a wonderful story, and congratulations to you and Ellie.”

“It’s created a bit of a problem, Mum. We have been booked in for a signing tour this summer, by the publisher. He was adamant that the book has two female authors, so the public expects to see two women signing their book.”

“That could be a problem. How are you solving it?”

“The Drama department, here in Antwerp, has helped me look like the other woman, so, it will be two females that come and see you when we get home.”

“Oh, my! Send me a picture so I can see what you look like. Otherwise, I might say ‘Not today, dear’ and close the door again.”

“Ellie is sending you one she has just taken. We have booked into a hotel in London for the first signing. Can you book us into the hotel in Barking again?”

“No need, dear. There’s lots of room here, now. Belinda has moved in with her boyfriend in Southend, and your brother has moved in with his boyfriend in London. So, there’s two empty rooms. I’ll make up the beds for you if it’s just a few days. Text me the likely date that we’ll see you, and I’ll find a fatted calf to slaughter.”

“Thanks, Mum. We have a few things to sort out before we can leave, and I’ll let you know. I’m looking forward to seeing you all.”

When I ended the call, I sat there for a few moments.

“You look serious, Mad. Something wrong at home?”

“Not wrong, love. Just out of left field. Mum is going to make up the beds in Belinda’s old room, and also Adrian’s old room. It seems that both have left home while I’ve been away and are living with their boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends? Both of them?”

“Yes. Now I know why Adrian was so mean to me when I was younger. I think that he may have been jealous that I turned out small, while he wished he could be. It will be interesting to see if he is the alpha in his couple, or not. I’m going to give Belinda a call, this evening. I’ve got her mobile number.”

When I looked at my laptop, there was an email from Madeline to tell me that my new passport was ready. I thought that I had just lost the old one because of my change. It would be interesting to see what it looks like. I was starting to worry about heading home on my British one. It would be a pain to transform back to Clarence just to get through customs. I answered her to say that we would be popping in tomorrow, and that we would be heading across the Channel after that. I then got on the ferry website and booked the car and two people for the trip back to Harwich.

The next morning, we dressed in similar denim skirts and tops, with cardigans. It was the first day I was able to put on a pair of tights without destroying them. Our IDs got us into the building and up to the office. There, we went to see Madeline. She gave me a new diplomatic EU passport, in the name of Patricia Olivia Shelley, and with F in the sex box. She then told us to wait until the President could see us.

After about twenty minutes, the President opened her door and beckoned us in. She sat us down, next to the big window, and asked us how we were. We didn’t have to tell her that I was working hard being Patricia, as she could see it herself. We told her that we had gained high marks from Antwerp and were going to get the ferry back on the day after.

“Ellie and Pat. You know what you did for us since you walked into this building has changed a lot of thinking. Every task I gave you has been fulfilled without complaint. That play you wrote, and the book, have addressed the problems that we will face as the plan moves forward. I want you back here after you’ve finished the signing tour. To that end, this is a letter to the administration of the University of Essex, requesting your assistance in this building. It will tell them some of what you’ve done, enough that they should allow you the move. There is also a letter from the Chancellor at Antwerp, saying that they will take over your assessment for your final year, and present you with your degrees in a year’s time.”

“Thank you, Madame President. That is more than we could have hoped for. We were thinking that we may have to postpone our final year if we came back.”

“It’s perfectly all right. Between us we have shifted world thinking, and nothing would be too much for the brightest minds in the place. Tell me, do you have another book on the go?”

I told her about the nugget of plot about the housing project. It wasn’t a lot, but it made her smile.

“I couldn’t believe the story that you came up with for that play. The director from Amsterdam has been on to us about funding their own season of it. They will put it on at the end of summer, so you’ll probably be asked to attend the opening night. Look, have a good signing tour and let us know when you’re coming back. Your salary will continue as your holiday pay. Actually, you are due for a raise starting your second year with us.”

We thanked her for all she had done for us and left, going to our office and redirecting our emails to Madeline while we were going to be away. That evening, we packed our bags, mine being very different from the contents I had arrived with. Ellie instructed me in the proper packing of my new wardrobe. We put the big bags in the car, having an overnight bag each for what we would have in the morning. All my Clarence things stayed in the wardrobe, along with our winter stuff. I would have to go shopping when the weather closed in.

We said our goodbyes to Jules and Juliette and left to head for the ferry in the early morning. Customs was a breeze with our EU passports, and we were on board and ready to go when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my bag as if I had been doing just that all my life. It was the publisher.

“Where are you?”

“On the ferry, waiting to leave, why?”

“Because I have a gentleman in my office who wants to talk to you both. He is talking about the film rights of the book.”

“We’ll be in Barking for a week, with my family, but have booked into a hotel in London on the day before the first signing. Can he wait until then?”

I listened as there was a conversation on the other end.

“Can you come to London a few days earlier? I’ll extend your booking.”

“We can do that; I’ll text you the booking details.”

Ellie was watching me as the conversation went on.

“So, what was that about. Does he want to alter our tour?”

“Not really. He wants us to be in London a couple of days earlier so we can talk to a man who was in his office. They want to discuss film rights.”

“Oh, come on. Pull the other one!”

“No joke, Ellie, love. It looks as if Elaine and Patricia are going to be the writers of a story which will get a screen adaptation. Don’t hold any hopes that it will be true to the book. I’ve read about other writers selling the rights and not recognising the story that the film depicted.”

“It’s a good job we didn’t wait to get you acting as Pat. We’ll be able to do this, as long as we stay off the radar of the people we knew before.”

We were moving away from the shore when she leaned in and kissed me. It was an interesting experience, lipstick to lipstick.

“That was nice, but a bit sudden.”

“There’s a couple of lads further along the rail who have been looking at us for several minutes. I got the idea that they were just about to come over, so I wanted to put them off.”

“Wow, there are so many more things I have to learn. What would we have done if they had not stopped.”

“This is where you find out, because they’ve continued the approach.”

Just then there was a voice behind me.

“Are you ladies a couple? If so, it doesn’t matter. All we ask is that you talk to us when our friends come up from their car. They’ve been on our backs to get girls but we’re trying to hide our true likes.”

I turned around to him, to see a good-looking pair of men.

“That’s all right. How come you’re heading for Harwich, at the beginning of the summer holidays?”

“We’ve been on a placement year with the University of Cologne, we’re doing an engineering course.”

“We’ve been on placement with Antwerp. How did your year go?”

We found a table and sat down. The boys bought us drinks and we had a very interesting discussion about the life at university. When we were asked if we were OK with them being gay, I told them that my big brother was living with his boyfriend. It was a pleasant voyage and I followed Ellie’s lead in giving both of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek as we pulled into Harwich, with their friends obviously trying not look as if they were jealous.

When we got through immigration, we headed for Colchester, stopping at a motel overnight. In the morning, we went into the University and entered the administration area. We asked to see our main lecturer and said that we had got back early from our placement year. It took several minutes before we were given the permission to go to his study, somewhere we had been before. We knocked and went in, and he told us to sit.

“Now, what can I do for you ladies?”

“We’ve been on placement to Antwerp, sir. I know I don’t look like it, but I’m Clarence Higgins, and this is Elaine Terrey. We have a letter for you from Antwerp, and another from the EU Commission President. Perhaps you should read them before we go any further. We don’t know what is in the letters, as they were given to us already sealed.”

We sat quietly while he opened and read both letters, then read them a second time.

“Do you have your passports with you?”

We took both our passports out of our bags and passed them over. He looked at them and then handed them back.

“So, Clarence, you have a diplomatic passport in the name of Patricia Shelley. With this being Elaine Terrey, do I have a pair of best-selling authors sitting in front of me?”

“You do, sir. We are back in England to go on a book-signing tour for several weeks, and our publisher laid down the law that I had to front up as Patricia. Then, we have been told that we can go back to Belgium and that Antwerp will take us through our final year.”

“So, this letter from the EU tells me that you have been working as the speechwriters to the Commission President.”

“That’s correct, we were asked to put together a report and it snowballed from there.”

“Did you write her speech in early December, where she took the whole world on a new direction?”

“We did, sir.”

“Well, I congratulate you both. Not only have you been part of the biggest story in the last ten years, but you’ve also written a very good book. I read it after getting it for my birthday. What else did you do while you were so busy?”

“We produced a play for Antwerp drama, which is going to open in Amsterdam in a couple of months.”

“Look, you two are likely the first students to become famous while you’re still enrolled. I’m happy to let Antwerp take you on to your finals. I suppose that what I’ve read in the letters are to be considered secret?”

“If you can, sir. Our work with the EU has been extremely sensitive, as you can tell by our passports. We’ll be in Colchester in the next few weeks, at a signing. Bring your book and we’ll give you a special dedication.”

“You’ve got a deal. Anything else I can do for you?”

“You’ve already done what’s needed, sir. We’re very grateful that you saw us and will sign us over. There’s a lot of work that we need to do in Brussels.”

“Are they paying you?”

“We’re both on a salary with the EU and have an office of our own. It’s likely to turn into a career.”

“I envy you that job, part of the centre of world decisions, but in the background.”

We left the University in good spirits and headed for Barking. When we pulled up outside the house, Mum rushed out and helped us out of the car, hugging us both.

“My, Patricia, you’re very pretty, you’ll be swatting the boys away with a stick!”

“You should have seen her with the boys on the ferry, Mrs H. She was so natural and had them eating out of her hand.”

“They just wanted the last of the peanuts, Ellie.”

We took our cases inside, with a room each. It would be the first time we had slept apart in nearly three years but would only be a few nights. We told Mum that we needed to be in London earlier than expected but would try to get back before we went back to Belgium.

“What about Essex?”

“We will be transferred to Antwerp for our final year but need to be in Brussels for our work.”

“Yes, that work. You send cards from all over the world, at the same time that the EU honcho was flying about. Where you on that plane?”

“We were, Mum, and spending a lot of time writing speeches for her. We are both employed by the EU, and we also have an arrangement with Antwerp to produce a couple of assignments. The Chancellor and the EU President are old friends and our work with her gets classed as study. The only thing that we’ll have to do for our finals is to produce a thesis. We’ll have to ask if another book will be good enough.”

When Jim came in after picking up William from primary, we had told Mum enough to pass on to him, with the warning that we wanted secrecy. Little William was puzzled by the strange ladies in the house. I sat down on the floor beside him.

“Billy Boy, are you looking after my old room?”

“That was Clarrie’s room, silly.”

“Last time I saw you, I was Clarrie.”

“Is this a disguise? I saw Adrian in a dress once. He wasn’t happy and told me not to say anything to Mum or Dad.”

“It is a disguise, Billy Boy. I have to be like this to meet lots of people over the next few weeks. If I showed up as Clarrie, they would get very upset.”

“You some kind of spy, or something?”

“It’s the ‘or something’, Billy. It’s a secret.”

“Kewl!”

It’s amazing what children can accept when presented with complications. I was OK as a girl because I must be an agent. If only all life was that easy.

The next day, we took Mum down to Southend, where we met up with Belinda for lunch. She had, of course, brought along the books I hadn’t signed, so we did a mini signing for her. She accepted that I needed to be Patricia for the tour and asked the one question I had avoided thinking about.

“So, Patricia. Are you going to go back to being a boring boy, or are you staying the bright and cheerful girl that I see now?

“That depends, Belle. When this tour is over, there may be another, and our publisher is adamant that the public needs to see two women. And then there could be the film premiere, it would be interesting to be on the red carpet in something very expensive.”

“Film premiere? What did I miss?”

“We’re meeting a guy next week about the film rights. Whether it gets made or not will be up to him.”

“Let me guess, I have to keep this secret until the announcement, right?”

“Sorry, Belle, but them’s the breaks.”

When she went back to work, the three of us went on the pier. Believe it or not, it was the first time any of us had stepped foot on it. We sat on a bench, looking at the ships and licking ice creams. All of a sudden, I felt that this was right, with the breeze wafting my now-longer hair, and making the hem of my skirt flutter. While I had Elaine beside me, there was no way I would transition, but being considered bright, cheerful and pretty was something to cherish.

We didn’t go to see the writers group, because it would have let the cat out of the bag. Knowing how they gossiped, it would have been all over Dagenham in days. We packed up our things, once more, and left my family to go to the hotel in London.

There, we were welcomed by a doorman, had our bags carried by young men, and the car taken to be parked by a valet. There was a sign behind the reception that welcomed Elaine Terrey and Patricia Shelley, as well as photos of us. It seemed that the publisher had organised a special signing and a ‘get to know the authors’ session for invited guests only, to be held in one of the function rooms tomorrow, followed by a dinner in one of the private rooms. It was all set out in a note that was handed to us. There was a debit card and an address of a dress shop where we could get new outfits.

In our room, we held each other close and kissed.

“Welcome to the madhouse, darling. We’ve gone and dived into the deep end here.”

“The only thing we need to do, is to learn to swim, Mad. Let’s see about getting some lunch and then we’ll go and see how far the debit card goes.”

We had a nice shower, using the supplied lotions, and then dressed to go and try on some dresses. By this time, I was able to use normal underwear, and the waist clincher made my figure look right, as long as I watched what I ate. So, we dressed to try things on and went down to the dining room.

There, we discovered that we had a special table, in full view of other patrons, and, during our light lunch, we both signed autograph books brought over to our table by teenage girls. It was interesting to hear their comments, when they said that it was about time someone spoke up for ordinary people. When we went to the main entrance, the doorman called a cab for us, and we told the driver where we wanted to go. We paid him, in cash, with a tip, and he told us that he would loop by in about an hour or so, to see if we were ready to go back to the hotel.

In the shop, we found that the card would cover our purchases, including shoes, so tried on some things that looked stunning on Elaine. When I looked in the mirror, I had to agree with her and our assistant that I looked good as well. Because it was an afternoon do followed by dinner, cocktail dresses were all right, and we both took two-inch heels to match our dresses, as we knew that we may be standing around a lot.

The taxi was just coming down the road when we stepped outside, and he whisked us back to the hotel, where the doorman paid him. I guess that it was all added to our account. These things, alone, made us certain that the book was making a lot of money, both for us and the publishers. We would need to get him to give us a full statement when we saw him.

He was sitting in the foyer when we walked in with our bags in hand. He stood and gave us both hugs, then waved to a lad to take our bags up to our room for us. He led us through to the bar, where he sat us in an alcove and a girl came over to take a drink order. With our drinks in front of us, and the small talk out of the way, he came straight to the point.

“You girls are the hottest pair in town, right now. The books have been flying off the shelves since Christmas. I have a lot of money that is your share of the proceeds, but I advise you to do a couple of things before I pay it. One, you need an accountant. Two, you need him to form a limited liability company to take your money and let you pay minimum taxes and to deduct your own salaries and expenses from. The early books were petty cash compared to the latest one, but everything except the Clare Higgins range are selling well.”

“I suppose that you have an accountant that you recommend?”

“No, I haven’t. There are a lot in this town, and I have a list of those who deal with my clients for you to pick your own. They will do the paperwork, and you should have a company going within a few weeks, certainly before you finish this tour.”

“All right, give us the list and we’ll call one this afternoon. Now, tell us, who are coming to this special session tomorrow?”

“There will be literary types, from other authors to critics. Then there are those who are the movers and shakers of the book world. Lastly, we have the man who was in my office when I rang you, as well as two of his competitors who want to bid for the rights. That’s one of the biggest reasons that you need to move on protecting yourselves. By the way, what did Clarence think about missing out on all this?”

I laughed.

“I must be doing well if you think he’s not here, sitting in front of you. You wanted two women, and we have given you two women. No actresses, no subterfuge, just us who met you in your office a year or so ago before we went to Belgium.”

“Wow, you’re good. This makes things so much easier. I thought that I would have to coach one of you and deal with Clarence on the side. Thank you for that. How are you doing with the university?”

“We both have high marks, so far, and will be going back to Antwerp for our final year. Hopefully, we’ll have another book for you during that time.”

“Something as up-to-the-moment as ‘The Last Wave, I hope. It was amazing how that went on the shelves within weeks of the EU announcement, along with the foreword from Madame President herself. It made the story seem so real.”

“It is real, we’ve seen the research. There’s nothing in that book that is unlikely to happen. That’s what makes it so readable. That’s why we need to be in Brussels. It’s not a work of fiction, but a work of possible fact.”

Marianne Gregory © 2024

Chapter 6

The fact that we considered the story future fact set him back.

“You’re telling me that there are islands out there which will disappear in our lifetime?”

“We are. There are research papers that lay it out, clear as day, should you bother to read them. It’s just that we have been in a place where reading them was our job. It will continue to be our job for a while longer, so the next story will have similar reality. We have a play, opening in Amsterdam, in a few weeks, that covers a typical problem of the rise in water levels.”

“Well, you two are more than just pretty faces.”

“That’s why we’re approaching the end of our degrees. It takes more than a pretty face to pass those. Anyway, what’s the deal for tomorrow?”

“Right. After breakfast there’ll be a car to take you to a salon to make you even more beautiful, then back here for lunch. After that you go and get dressed for the event. That starts at three and I’ll come to your room to escort you down. It’s drinks and nibbles while standing around so you will be able to mingle. I’ll introduce you to the film people but don’t talk negotiations with them. Then we have a break and dinner starts at seven. Whatever you do, please stick together, as there will be some who will want to get you on your own.”

“Are we allowed to ask the film people about their intentions? We would hate to see the book turned into science fiction and having a monster coming out of the sea.”

“That’s all right, it may help you decide what you want to do. Look, here’s a statement as of yesterday. Have a look at it and get cracking on getting that accountant.”

He left us at the table, and we looked at the paper. I could hardly breathe after seeing the numbers. They weren’t big enough to retire on but was a good start in life. Elaine closed her eyes and jabbed at the accountant list, and we rang the one she landed on. When we were put through, she told him who we were and that we needed his services. He asked us where we were at the moment and said he would be with us in a half an hour, depending on traffic.

We took the opportunity to go and freshen up, asking the waitress to hold our alcove for us. I went to reception and asked them to direct a visitor to the alcove when he asked for us. We then sat with soft drinks and some crisps until he arrived, talking about the event tomorrow.

When the accountant arrived, we were surprised that he wasn’t old, bald or overweight. Actually, he was quite a good-looking guy, if a bit older than us. He sat with us, and we explained what we needed in the way of our own company, showing him the figures we had been given.

“What you need is straight-forward and we can get a start on the setting up of the company on-line. It will allow you to employ people in the future. You will probably need a secretary to manage your signing tours and book fair invitations, taking that out of the hands of the publisher. I have a couple of clients that are on his books, and he does have a habit of organising things out of the blue if there’s some money to be made. You will need to have a more finely tuned diary.”

“We don’t intend to do a lot about those sorts of event if we can help it. We have degrees to finish, and we both have employment with the EU in Brussels. The event here, tomorrow afternoon, was sprung on us. We didn’t know it was on until we checked in. We thought we were here to talk about film rights before we started on the signing tour.”

“If I take you on as clients, I will have to know your income from the EU, so we can sort out the tax implications regarding UK and EU taxes. If you’re resident in Brussels, your earnings here may have to be treated differently than if you were resident here. If you have an address in both countries, it all changes. Can you fill out these forms and courier them to my office, so we can get the ball rolling, please. I have to say that I read the book and will be proud to work on your behalf.”

He left us the forms and a couple of his business cards. He also had the book which he wanted us to sign for his wife. When he had gone, we took the papers up to our room to look at later. Now, it was time for an afternoon nap, the day had been one surprise after another. We didn’t sleep, however, but made better use of the bed, having slept apart at my old home.

We were sitting at the vanity, doing our make-up, when Ellie looked suddenly serious.

“Mad. There’s one thing we didn’t tell the accountant, and that’s who you really are.”

“That’s the question I’m asking myself. Here I am, sitting in front of a mirror and doing eye liner. Am I Clarence or am I becoming Pattie. Belinda said I was more outgoing and happier as Patricia. Since we’ve changed me externally, I wonder if I’ve also been changed internally.”

“You are much more pleasant with others, and you do interact like any normal girl, so we just have to see where it goes. This afternoon, you proved that you’re still essentially my Clarrie, no matter what you look like. I think it’s a bit sensual when we kiss, lipstick to lipstick. My best friend in high school would always kiss me like that. I think that she was a bit gay, but I resisted her suggestions for a pyjama party. I’m thinking about putting her in a book as a character. With my name on the cover, she’ll know who she is.”

“Whatever we do, others are going to have to be let into the inner circle. How about us ringing that accountant again. He would still be in his office. We have time to go and see him with our passports as proof of who I am. He may not take us on after that. When he said that we would need a secretary, that’s another who will have to know the truth.”

“You’re sounding as if you intend to be Patricia Shelley full-time?”

“Doesn’t it feel that it will be necessary? There will be photos on the book covers, posters at the signings. I can’t go back if we want to have a writing future. We could always stop, right now, and disappear from the public as a one-hit-wonder.”

“Not that! I love writing, and I love writing with you. No! EFT/POS is what we put on our papers for the EU, and that is what we need to do. You’re always thinking about the next book, and I don’t think that going back to bodice-busters as Clare Higgins is what you’ll be happy with.”

We rang the accountant and arranged to see him. We finished dressing, picked up the papers and our own papers, putting it all in a shoulder bag, going down to the reception and getting the doorman to call us a taxi. At the accountant’s office, we were shown into his office.

“Thank you for seeing us again, so quickly. There are a few things that we need to discuss with you before we fill out your papers.”

“That’s all right, I’m glad that you’re thinking seriously. You’re not going to tell me that someone else wrote your story, I hope.”

“Well, there is another personality involved. You see, I started writing in high school, with romantic novels under the name of Clare Higgins.”

“My wife has read all of your books. She said that they were more real than the other in that genre. What difference does that make to now?”

“The name was chosen because the genre had mainly women writers. My name, at the time, was Clarence Higgins. Here is my UK passport.”

He looked at the passport, studied the picture, and smiled.

“It is a very close likeness. If you have this passport, how did you come back from Europe looking like that?”

I passed over my EU diplomatic passport, which he looked at and then sat back in his chair.

“Well, I never expected that. Do you have one of these as well, Elaine?”

She passed him both of her passports.

“Are you spies, or something?”

“We’re speech writers for the President of the Commission. We were with her when she travelled around the world a few months ago. We wrote the speech she gave in early December, as well as the original report that led to that speech. Clarence becoming Patricia was for the publisher and this tour. What we didn’t realise that he expected us to recruit another girl to be on show, and we created another girl from what we had. Is that going to be a problem?”

He chuckled, then turned a picture of a girl towards us.

“This is my son. He didn’t feel right in his body. When he came out to us, we weren’t happy, but promised him that we would look up the details. When we saw how many like him have suicided, we embraced his longings and welcomed a new daughter. She would love to be sitting here with you, as Clare Higgins was one of her favourites before taking up your later stories. She’ll be with me when we come along to the signing. How did your parents take the new you?”

“Mum was happy about it, as she knew what it was for. My father wouldn’t have approved, but my stepfather is OK. My sister likes me more than when I was a boy, and my brother is now living with his boyfriend, so I guess he’ll be good with it.”

“Look, this just adds a level of complexity, with us needing to work with your actual records. I guess that you haven’t done a name change and that your previous earnings went into your original bank account. Does the EU pay you as Clarence?”

“They do. The passport is a prop, to allow me to travel. I guess that somewhere in the system, there is a Patricia Shelley, but don’t know what details they put alongside her.”

“All right. Fill in the paperwork as Clarence, with your details, and we’ll get to working on creating your account. You will have all the government numbers against your file, so setting it up will look normal. There are no complications with your details, Elaine?”

“Not until I become Elaine Higgins, no.”

We filled out the paperwork in front of him, and he called in his secretary to see us sign. She had to be brought into the circle, as she would do most of the typing and filing of our account. We were assured that she would keep the secret, along with the secrets of other clients, as there were other writers on his books who wrote using more than one pseudonym.

We were taken back to the hotel in a calmer frame of mind. We may have elevated our subterfuge into a higher plane, but it had cleared the way forward. We had a quiet dinner in the hotel and retired early. It had been a big day.

The next morning, we dressed casually and didn’t bother with much make-up. After breakfast, a car arrived to take us to the salon. This was another situation that needed careful handling. I was shaving my arms and legs regularly, and usually shaved my face-fuzz, but today left the face alone. At the salon, I told the girl that I was getting a bit of a fuzz and needed it waxed. They did our hair, our face, and our nails, treating us both the same and asking us about writing the book. The whole salon staff had copies to be signed, and we lined up with them for a photo.

Back at the hotel, we had a light lunch and then went up to our room to get glamorous. After we had dressed and retouched our lips, we waited for the knock on the door that would be the beginning of our official launch as a writing couple.

When it came, we opened up to find our publisher in a good suit, with a woman by his side, who he introduced as his wife. The four of us went down to a function room, where we walked in to find a lot of people waiting for us. They applauded as we walked in, and then the afternoon seemed to dissolve into introductions, selfies, discussion on plots, nibbles, drinks, more selfies and small talk.

We stayed clear of questions about our early days, just saying that we grew up as normal children who loved books and writing. I had conversations with a few of the writers I had loved, discussing their story, rather than ours. We met the film guys, asking them what they had planned with our story. The original man put us off, immediately, when he admitted that he wanted the rights so that he could hawk them around to the studios. The other two were from established studios, one British, and the other American. We told the publisher to talk to those, but that any decision would be based on their plans for the story. He said that there would be two meetings, in the morning, and went off to arrange them.

The only awkward moment was when a theatre critic linked Elaine with the play that had been put on in Colchester, as well as other regional towns.

“That play of yours was co-written by Clarence Higgins. Do you still see him?”

“I do. We are both doing our university degree. We wrote a play for the drama class at Antwerp this year, which is going to be performed by a good cast in Amsterdam soon. It’s called ‘Don’t Water the Tulips’. The director came to the University performance and liked it.”

Eventually, the room was cleared, and we could relax. We went up to our room to have a shower and redress for dinner. The dresses were the same, but the make-up took a lot longer. When we went down to where the dinner was, we were surprised to see a table laden with hardback copies of our book, the dust cover with pictures of us on the back. The publisher was there sorting things out and saw our interest.

“The initial print run was all soft cover, but with success comes collectors. They will pay much more for a good hard cover edition, especially one dated the same as the first edition. You’ll find that when you are on tour, all the shops will have piles of these, and most of those who came will have bought one, even if they had turned up with a soft cover one in their bag.”

The dinner was interesting, with each guest given a new book. We hosted a few politicians, some actors and singers, some ‘influencers’, and a few literary critics. Most of them were so self-centred, they didn’t give a hoot who we were, and I doubted that most of the books would ever be opened after tonight. We signed them all, some wanted a personal message. It was interesting to listen to the talk around the table, but we didn’t have to put too much in, and we were able to say goodnight to our guests, with me being hugged and kissed by several men. We made a cup of tea in our room and sat in our nighties to drink it.

“That was a very interesting evening. We have more characters in our minds to add to stories, whenever we need narcissists. The singer with the top ten hit was great fodder, dropping all the names of other singers he knew.”

“The influencer who wanted us to endorse her on our website was great. She couldn’t believe that we don’t have one for ourselves. All she could talk about was the free meals that she got in return for an endorsement.”

“I loved the politician who wondered if removing the sales tax on books would improve the reading rate. You can read most things on-line for next to nothing. All it would do is lower the tax income.”

The next morning, we dressed casually and went down for breakfast. As we were finishing, our publisher came in.

“Great job last night, girls. You gave them enough to show that you cared. We have the first meeting in half an hour in the function room where we had the meet and greet, with the second a half an hour after. I’ve heard what they have to say but I’ll leave it up to you to make the decision. Then you get today and tomorrow to rest, before a car will pick you up to go to the first event.”

He went and got himself a coffee while we finished. We went back to the room to freshen up and then went to the function room, where we found a table with chairs either side, and a bench with hot water and the makings. We were sitting comfortably when he brought the first guy in. It was the guy representing a very well-known American studio. He opened up with an offer for the rights that sounded like a telephone number, and I saw the publisher smile. I let Ellie ask the question we wanted answered. We had talked it over and knew what we needed.

“Can you tell us what your studio plans to do with the story? Will you be following it, as is?”

“No ma-am, there’s no way our audiences would swallow that end-of-the-world ending. We plan to adapt it as more of a surfing story, with the girl trying to get recognition for beach bunnies, with the last scene showing her and the hero on their boards, surfing the last wave.”

“I’m sorry, sir. We will discuss the offer after we’ve seen the other studio representative, but I can tell you that it’s unlikely that you will be successful. Good morning to you.”

I gave her arm a pat as he stood, red-faced. The publisher looked shocked. When the man had left, he turned to us.

“You know that the other studio won’t come close to that offer! I’m sure we could have pushed him higher.”

“The money is not the deciding factor. The book is about the end of a lifestyle, the relocation of an entire population, and the wiping of their home off the face of the earth. We told you, before. The story is real, it’s not a question of if, it’s only a question of when. We will not have our name connected with the bit of fluff that he just gave us.”

We had a drink while he left us to wait for the next man.

“You did well, there, Ellie.”

“It was a no-brainer, Mad. I couldn’t see our serious bit of work end up like a cheap Annette Funicello movie that they used to show on Saturday mornings. I know that you would be happier to just say no, rather than sell the rights.”

We were finishing our drink when the other man was shown in, or should I say man and woman. When the small talk was over, she was the one to open the negotiations.

“Look, I know that the Americans would have thrown a lot of money your way but hear me out. We don’t have the cash they do, but we have more integrity than them. I’ve read your book, twice, and talked to some people. You have written something that’s not only plausible, but I’m told it’s entirely possible, or even inevitable. We will make the film to the book, and there is enough footage of the Japanese tsunami to give the reality to the final scene as the waves approach the shore.”

“No changes to the basic story?”

“No. We may cut some of the dialogue in the middle with the populace, leaving enough to show the process, but the scenes between the two main characters will remain complete. It’s a hell of a love story.”

“So, what are you offering for the rights, if we keep control of the content, seeing that you aren’t messing around with the basic story?”

She named a figure at about half of the one the other guy had offered. Then she smiled.

“We’ll sweeten the deal with a half a percent of the gross. That costs us very little if the film is a box-office hit but will take your payment well past whatever the Americans offered, up front.”

“Madam, your offer is accepted. We expect to see paperwork from your office when you can get it organised. The payment will be made to a company our accountant is setting up for us, which should be in place in a couple of weeks.”

“That will be good. All we need is to find a location.”

“The island described in the book is in French Polynesia. We were there early in the year. If you want, we can introduce you to people who can get you access to it, as long as you agree to a French-speaking version as well, not just sub-titles.”

She started laughing.

“I’m going to love working with you two. We can arrange a meeting in a couple of months, after your tour. Do you have anything else we might be interested in?”

“There will be a play in Amsterdam towards the end of summer you may want to look at. It’s called ‘Don’t Water the Tulips’. It’s another love story with the girl fighting the local council to get them to raise the dykes before the tulip fields get flooded.”

We girls hugged, and the men shook hands. When we were alone, the publisher gave us both a hug.

“I thought you were crazy not taking the American offer, but a percentage on the film takings could be very good for you. The book will get a second life when the film comes out. Enjoy the short break, you deserve it.”

We went up to our room and freshened up, then went out for a walk. It was good to just be in the open air, with nobody on our backs for speeches or assignments. We had got through the third year of our degree, had managed to get the fourth year transferred to Antwerp, had good jobs, a book in the best-seller lists, and now had a film that would be made. Knowing the little we did know, that would be filmed over the next six months and likely in the theatres as we got towards our finals.

‘It was interesting to see those hard cover books. Should we get some to send to our families and friends?”

“We can ask the publisher for some when we see him. It would be good to send some to the Commission, with appropriate dedications.”

We took it very quietly until the morning of the first signing came around. We dressed well and was careful when we made-up. The crowd was waiting for us when we arrived, and applauded as we went to the table, which had an array of sharpie pens, so we didn’t have to press too hard. The queue had already formed, and the signing started as soon as the manager introduced us. It was a whole new world, with ninety percent of the books put under our noses being the hard cover. Most wanted both signatures, inside the book, but a few only wanted one of us, with those asking us to sign on the back cover photo.

There was a lot of talk and questions, which we answered as briefly as we could without being impolite. We were well served with drinks, had short breaks, given a lunch, and generally treated like a couple of stars. Just before the signing was due to finish, a book was put in front of me, and a voice asked me if I could sign it to Joseph. It was a voice I knew.

“Do I put, with love from Adrian?”

“How do you know my name?”

I pointed to the two names on the back of the dust cover.

“What do these spell out?”

I could see the wheels turning as he worked out what the initials spelt.

“Hang around for when we finish, and don’t say anything to anybody. We’ll take you both to dinner after we finish here.”

I passed the book to Ellie to sign, and I could see the recognition on his face when he saw her. He went to join another lad and they waited until the store manager called time on the session, telling the unfortunate ones to come back tomorrow afternoon, as we would be coming back to make everyone happy.

When we were free to talk, I asked Adrian if there was a good restaurant nearby. I told our driver to come back to pick us up from there at around eight. Then the four of us walked to the restaurant. We kept the obvious questions at bay until we were seated at the table. Then, we told Adrian why I was the POS in the team, and how I came to be sitting there in a dress.

He was amazed at how good I looked and admitted that he had been jealous of me when we were younger. Joseph told us that Adriana wasn’t a patch on her sister. It was a lovely meal and I warmed to the new Adrian, with him now far more easy-going. Joseph was a really nice guy and I wished them both well after I had paid the account. Adrian gave us both a hug and told me that he was proud of how well I was doing. I think that he was happy that I had accepted him and his boyfriend so easily. In the car back to the hotel, Ellie said that she was very glad the two of us had got back together.

Marianne Gregory © 2024

Chapter 7

The next day, we were packed and in the back of the car, heading for the next event. It was a busy six weeks, going from one signing to a hotel, followed by another signing and then on towards the next hotel. We were well looked after, had some time for rest and time in a salon once a week. The signing, in Norwich, had all of Ellie’s family in the queue, and we took them for dinner afterwards.

By the time we had arrived back at the London hotel, a lot had happened, due to emails and phone calls between signings and sleep. We had been advised of our new company, called EfosTP, and had our new secretary, Samantha, with a single-room office in a group of leased offices. Samantha had equipped it with the desk, a couple of chairs, her computer and a phone line. She would be our nerve centre over the next few years, while we concentrate on our work and more books.

The company had its own bank account, into which the money that the publisher owed us had been deposited. The accountant had set up all the regular payments, including a small salary to each of us, the salary for Samantha, and the outgoings for the office. We had sent out the books for our families and friends and had been in touch with Madame Duval about giving access to the film studio to the island.

We had a meeting set up in the function room the day after we arrived. The film studio was to be there with the official papers and the cheque. Samantha was to be there to meet us for the first time and take notes. The accountant was coming to take the film cheque and give us the first financial report for the company. Madame Duval was coming over to talk to the studio and was bringing a French civil servant who would be able to smooth all the paths for them in French Polynesia.

We were happy to have the tour over. We had signed hundreds of books every few days, met a lot of people and tried to be approachable as we went around, while having defend the ending of the book as being possible. We would be settling down before going back to Belgium, to prepare for our next year in Antwerp, and catching up with what had been going on in Brussels.

The meeting was good, with our accountant happy with the way we were going, the film studio happy with the help we had organised, the EU happy with the book becoming a film. Madame Duval offered EU assistance and the French civil servant was given the names of those who would be talking to him, so that he could organise the paperwork to give them access and assistance on the island, which wasn’t actually named in the book.

We put lunch on for everyone, and everyone left except Samantha, who came back to our room where we went through all the things we expected to be doing, and how much lead time we would need to fly back to England for only important reasons. She had purchased and set up two phones, which only she knew the numbers of. All we had to do was to keep them charged and return her calls when we could. She stayed for dinner, and when she left, we were friends, with her knowing my secret. When I had sent my first manuscript to the publisher, I had never thought that one day I would be employing someone to be the cut-out between me and him.

Ellie and I went sight-seeing in London, mainly visiting galleries and the main library to have a look at the early editions of some of the books we both loved. We didn’t go mad, buying clothes or jewels, as that wasn’t the people we were. Our money was held by the company, and our personal accounts were healthy, if not huge, from our earlier books. After a few days, we decided that we needed to be back in Brussels. Madame Duval had told us that there would be things to do whenever we returned, and we did need to talk to Antwerp to see if everything was in place.

We told the hotel that we would be checking out the next morning and arranged the ferry for a couple of days later. After breakfast, a couple of boys carried our cases down and packed them in the Citroen, which had been pulled out of storage, serviced and cleaned. We paid our account on the company card we had been given and the hotel gave us a card, each, and a list of hotels all over the world that would honour it.

We spent that night at Barking, with my folks, bringing Mum up to date on Adrian and Joseph, as well as relating some of the funny things that had happened on the tour. We stayed the next night in Harwich, and then took the ferry back to Europe. As the coast approached, we sat, looking forward, and Ellie said that it was like coming home. I had to agree, but that was tempered by the fact that we had a lot of work ahead of us by the time we had finished our degrees.

We drove through to Mechelen, arriving after Juliette had got home from work. She welcomed us in, and Jules helped us get the cases in. We told them that we would take them to dinner, so we freshened up and went to our favourite restaurant.

Over the next few days, we quickly got back into a routine. The first thing we did was to spend time returning me to being Clarence, removing the breasts. I would have to wait until the eyebrows grew again and would go through life with studs in my ears, but wondered if a small moustache and a goatee would accentuate my maleness, in a sort of twee way. We went into Brussels and visited the salon, where my false nails were removed, and all twenty digits brought back to a natural colour. I also had a haircut which matched the first I had there, making me look a bit like Oscar Wilde.

We then went to Antwerp and verified that they would be taking us through to our degree. When we went into see them, I think that someone had been talking to them, as the only assignments for the year was another play for the drama class, and a publishable book, no less than two hundred thousand words. We went into the office to tell them we were back in business. There was a small pile of files on our desk, all speeches that needed to be written as the winter approached.

The summer had been kinder to the world, and some were thinking that we got off lightly. The real problem during those few months was on the other side of the world, where the temperature of the waters south of Australia had increased by two degrees, and the Antarctic shelf was starting to break up. The Arctic had already reduced in size by over thirty percent, and the overall water level of the oceans had risen several inches.

In no time at all, we were in a regular round of writing. Work things stayed at work, and our evenings were taken up with working out a play and the book. When we thought about it, we decided that the plot for the play would be my original idea of the housing estate and the resistance from the heroine about damaging the pristine environment. Like the previous play, it could be done in four acts, with the first being a town meeting where the project was put forward.

As far as the book was concerned, we started thinking about an overall premise for the story. Impending doom was out, blue sky thinking was out. No. This book would have to be set after the full range of changes had come into play. A world where survival was paramount. Using our resources in the EU, we downloaded the projections of what land masses would look like given various rises in the sea levels. It would be a shrinking world, and one where there would be competition for the available high ground, both physically and morally.

In many countries, the outcomes were easy to predict. In most South American countries, it would be the dictators and the cartels that would dominate. In North America it would be organised crime and the gun-toting far right against the government and the army. In Europe, many countries would remain basically unchanged, because of the terrain, except the lowlands of the Netherlands. We saw one extreme projection which showed Australia looking like an atoll with an inland sea, much like it may have been some millions of years before.

The story was set well into the future. Our heroine was a girl from low-lying Norfolk, near the Wash, who is forced to move further inland, and follows her adventures and perils along the way. She planned to go north to the Lake District but came up against armed militia. Heading south, she ran into similar problems along the Welsh borders, which had declared that its high ground was ‘Wales for the Welsh’.

On the way, she teams up with our hero, who she met leaving the Lake District, with him having made the trip from the Tyneside. We called it ‘Climb Every Mountain’. The song lyrics gave us some ideas towards the story, with our words meaning the opposite of the joyful song. It made it easier to write, with every short journey filling a chapter. We used one of the worst-case reports, which had a likely rise of two to three metres.

For Christmas, that year, we led Jules and Juliette to the ferry and across to Harwich, with our Yuletide break at Ellie’s family home, Juliette catching up with her sister after more than ten years. The play was performed in the last term, around the same time that the manuscript went to the publisher, with a copy taken to our lecturer in Antwerp. The writers were Elaine Terrey and Clarence Higgins. We sent a note to the publisher that Patricia had got herself married and had moved to Canada. In the meantime, we had written more speeches and reports that I would have thought possible.

During the year, we had been back to England a few times, for meetings with the film studio that Samantha had set up. The location work had been finished and it was mainly studio scenes to do. They had called in a well-known composer for the background music. We saw some rushes of what had been completed, met the cast, and Elaine gave her permission to the studio to finish had they had started. The studio was also given the unpublished manuscript of the next book to look at.

Elaine explained that the harder edge of this story was due to my input. Patricia was not coming back, so future collaborations would be the two of us. This didn’t worry the studio, as long as the story hung together. It was no business of the publisher, as we were on his books as our original names. It made things easier for the accountant, as any questions about Patricia would be referred to her, if she could be found in her new name, which he could declare, in all honesty, he didn’t know.

My old EU passport replaced the POS one, with a new photo to show the slightly older me, along with a new ID tag for the office. It was all back the way it was before the mix-up, but with a slight difference. I now had a dislike of heavy clothes and rough materials. I started buying unisex items, wearing women’s socks, and favouring brighter colours. Ellie told me that I had retained the brighter personality and friendliness that had been the biggest change.

Just before we graduated, Elaine went to see a doctor, coming back with the news that she was expecting. It was planned, to see if we could make a child without going through a lot of tests. The thing was that we now needed to decide where we wanted our child to grow up. Antwerp was a good five metres above the high-water mark of the very worst projections, with Brussels some five metres higher, with Mechelen somewhere in between.

We started looking around Mechelen first, as Brussels was very expensive. We found a nice place in the outskirts, a detached three-bedroom place, with a large block and steep roof to minimise problems with the expected snowfalls. It was about six hundred thousand Euro. We spoke to our accountant, and he told us that we had plenty we could put on it, even paying for it outright, with the film rights covering the cost. If we used one bedroom as an office for writing, we could class it a partially work-related expense.

The graduation ceremony was good. Madame President was in the official party and gave a speech that we had not been part of writing. Both of us were given honours. At the after-ceremony mingling, we were told that we could be in line for Honorary Doctorships with a few more best-selling books under our belt.

We moved into the house, a month after we graduated. There was a garage for the car and the biggest extra expense was buying furniture, which was fun. We set up the office with all the equipment that we would need to work from home should we get snowed in. We were close enough to Juliette to be convenient, but far enough away to be private. Over the summer, we redecorated and filled the house with all the things we wanted. One bedroom was reserved as a nursery, but our baby would spend a lot of the early nights in a crib with us.

After this, we planned a wedding before Elaine was showing too much. Most of the main churches in the town were Catholic. We settled on the Beguinage Church, or Begijnhofkerk in Belgian Dutch. They were all right with me as one of us was of the faith. It was a beautiful building from the mid-sixteen hundreds. We arranged accommodation for my family, with Elaine’s now going to stay with Juliette. When we sent out the wedding invitations, we were surprised at the answers. There were going to be some highfliers there.

The wedding was wonderful. Ellie looked magnificent in white, while I was resplendent in a suit. Adrian was my Best Man, with Joseph as a groomsman. Ellie had her sister as Maid of Honour, with Belinda as the second bridesmaid. Mum and Jim were happy to see us and where we were living. Ellie’s parents were happy to revisit their own history, with her father walking her down the aisle. The reception was in a local restaurant and our honeymoon was in Paris for a week. After that, it was back to work.

While we were away, the play was taken up by the Amsterdam theatre again, and the new book hit the shelves. A week after we had arrived home, we had the invitations for the premiere of the ‘Last Wave’ film, which we attended as a married couple with Ellie getting all the requests for interviews. I was along as the ‘plus one’ but there were a few critics that had seen the plays that my name was on. Within the space of the rest of that year, the film earned enough that our half of a percent gave us half a million Pounds, which went into the business account.

As the year progressed, the EU work became less hectic. There were more speechwriters in tune with the new thinking, and we had done our job of turning the ship. Madame President told us that we would continue to be paid, as long as we turned out one book a year that followed the likely future, as they gave a lot of people an insight into what to expect, and our salaries were a lot less than an advertising campaign that nobody would notice, anyway.

Ellie was now showing, with the baby due in March. We had a quiet Christmas at home, and me able to stay home helped her. Oddly enough, we both wanted a rest from writing stories about the end of the world, and she started writing the Elaine Terrey romantic novels again, without needing my input. I started writing Clare Higgins stories, with the benefit of having lived as a female for two months, or so. We did collaborate on a new story for the EU, pacing ourselves so that we could do one a year.

In February of the following year, the studio got in touch with Samantha about negotiating the rights for ‘Mountain’, and we did a cash deal with a one percent stake in the takings. We had not gone on a tour for the book, claiming that Elaine couldn’t take the pressure being pregnant.

Our baby was born on time, in the first week of March. Patricia Annika Higgins was beautiful, with a lot of her mother in her. I doted on her and we shared parenting equally. It took some time from our writing, but Juliette told us that the EU was happy to give us some slack, as there was a lot of people now working on the various projects that we had been the parents of. The new book to fulfil our salary was sent to the publisher in September, joining two each of our own novels in that year.

We went to England in July of the following year, and it was a hot, dry, summer. We hired a car with air conditioning from the airport and went to our favourite hotel, where we were welcome guests. They had spent a fortune on reworking their air conditioning, getting the best cooling as well as heating, so it was a steady temperature all year round. Of course, that had put the rates up but that was becoming normal these days. We needed to make sure Patricia didn’t overheat.

We had a meeting arranged with Samantha and our accountant, to talk about investing some of our business account. He was going to give us a report on what he had found out. When we sat down with them, he suggested that we put our money where our original premise started. He suggested that we set up a company, in England, building the sort of houses that we had designed in the early days. We could source the panels from manufacturers of modular houses in Europe, and we only needed to start with a single project, using the sale of the houses to fund further developments.

He even had a site in mind, about eight metres above the current sea level, in Essex. That would make it viable for some hundreds of years, and the raised design would withstand any unusually high tidal surge. He had found out that most developers were avoiding the edge of the likely changed shore, moving to much higher ground.

“You know that you two are to blame for that. Your book ‘Climb Every Mountain’ has made them all think that it will only be safe on really high ground, not the five or six metres that you told me would be likely. The book is not only giving you income, but also created a business opportunity. We can quietly buy property at the five to ten metre level and fill them up with new modular housing that would be easy to build and even easier to sell at a reasonable price.”

“What about tradesmen?”

“We employ teenagers with handy skills and send them to Europe to learn. I believe that there are already a few companies making the designs that you suggested.”

We authorised further investigation into the plan, with money set aside for consultants. After a couple of days in London, we drove to Barking to see my folks, young William now approaching his last couple of years in primary. After that, we went to Norfolk to see my in-laws. On the way round, we detoured to look at the area that had been suggested, and we tried to imagine it with the new shoreline. A lot of southern Essex shore would be flooded, as they found out almost a hundred years before, but a lot of the northern part of the county was well above the flood levels. It was just a matter of guessing where the final level would be.

Before we flew home, we visited the film studio and was shown the final cut of the ‘Mountain’ film, which was very good, even if we did say so, ourselves. It would guarantee us a regular income for some time to come. They wanted to know what we had for them after that, but all we could say was that it needed to be written when we had a bit of time.

When we got home again, we took stock of what we had on the go. We still needed a book to fulfil our agreement with the EU, which would be the story for a film. If the building project took off, it would need little input from us, other than money for the first project. The publisher would take any Terrey or Higgins book we sent his way, but we were finding it hard to come up with fresh stories.

We talked it over for several weeks before we made our decision. We had been working at full throttle since we started University, now some six years. We wanted to take a rest and had the money to do just that, devoting our time to raising Patricia, and any siblings that arrived, and to try something new. It was the report, from the accountant, that the project was too chancy to follow through, that made the decision easy.

We wrote to the Commission, officially resigning from our posts and sending the IDs back. They sent us a nice letter, thanking us for our input and wishing us well. That income stopped at the end of that month. We were now free to stop writing the bigger books, so concentrated on the odd romance novel, seeing that these were generally the same story, recycled with different names and different locations.

We put out feelers for a theatre, hopefully able to be bought freehold. It needed to be somewhere close to a larger centre, and one came up in Paris. It had been closed for several years and had been intended to be turned into a multiplex cinema, but the advent of streaming services had caused the cost of alterations to be not viable.

We bought the theatre, as well as an apartment in a new tower block, selling our home in Belgium, and set about bringing the stage area back to being workable. It took a lot of cleaning and some new seating before we could put on a play. We had advertised for anyone who wanted to join a drama group, as well as drama teachers, putting together a solid troupe. We then worked with them to put on a few plays that were popular favourites while we wrote one ourselves to utilise the space and the skills we had to work with. We offered Samantha a relocation to Paris to be our company secretary, and she came over after closing the London office.

It took us two years before we started breaking even, and then we began to fill the auditorium almost every night. We could bring in featured actors to give extra appeal and started to be approached by some who wanted to work with us. We had two successful films that we had written, and about six of our own plays from our early days. Plus, we had a group of eager actors who were ready to try everything.

After five years, we were established theatre owners, and playwrights, with regular seasons and running at a profit. We had gambled with our own money and owed nothing. We had one theatre in the black and looking for another. Our time with the EU had been forgotten, even if the climate change was still happening. We had made our stand. We had created our places in the world and had used our years of training. Some days, I arrive at the theatre and look up at the name on the front. It was called ‘Everyman’s French Theatre (and Popular Outstanding Shows)’. Theatregoers just called it ‘Everyman’s’ but we just called it EFTPOS.

Marianne Gregory © 2024