Weird Wednesday by Tanya Allan   Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply. On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it? Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all. No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered... but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

 
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The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 1
 
 
“Come in, Vanessa. Thanks for coming at such short notice,” said Headmaster Jacob Carter, opening the door to his private study. He was a tall, avuncular man, wearing a tweed suit and a concerned expression on his craggy sixtyish face.

Vanessa Williamson looked upset and embarrassed. Well she might, as to be summoned by the Headmaster on a Wednesday, to one’s child’s boarding school, was unusual and upsetting at the best of times.

The fact that Vanessa was suffering the after affects of a particularly acrimonious divorce was bad enough, so she needed this like a kick in the teeth.

She smiled weakly on entering the Head’s study. She was a tall, slim woman in her mid-thirties, yet still strikingly attractive. Having recently had to return to work as a solicitor’s secretary, she was appropriately dressed in a smart dark suit of a skirt, jacket and cream blouse. Her auburn hair was cut to a mid to short bob style to facilitate her getting ready in the mornings. She wore discreet makeup and two diamond studs gleamed from her earlobes.

She sat, smoothed her skirt and crossed her legs. Jacob Carter noted her shapely legs and swallowed. He also saw that she had removed her wedding ring. These cases were always difficult and he was well aware of Vanessa’s current domestic difficulties.

“How are you, Vanessa?” he asked.

“What’s he done, Jacob?” she said, straight to the point. She looked tired and not a little upset.

“Well, it’s a little more complex than that.” Jacob was trying to pick his words carefully. Diplomacy was an awkward business, particularly when dealing with a highly-strung and protective mother.

“Look, Jacob, don’t bugger me about. I just managed to squeeze the school fees out of that bastard Richard, so I really can’t afford to spend time word fencing with you. I’ve taken time off work, so I can actually do with out this just now. What’s he done and what the hell can we do about it?”

Jacob gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Vanessa, he hasn’t actually done anything. There’s the problem, for Simon is a very bright and emotionally mature boy for his age, but he is still only thirteen. Events have affected him so deeply that he has become so withdrawn that we can’t seem to get through to him. He was always a quiet boy, but recently he’s withdrawn into a shell and hasn’t spoken for several days. I don’t think he’s eaten and he never appears to sleep. Matron has him in sickbay, but he just sits on his bed staring out the window. The doctor has seen him this morning and wants to involve a child psychologist, so that is why you’re here.”

It was Simon Williamson’s first term at this school, Ketterham Court, and he’d been here just six weeks. A year ago, he was a happy and contented lad, in the top group at his Prep school and with two parents in an apparently solid relationship. Private boarding school had been Richard’s idea, despite Vanessa having reservations, Simon seemed to thrive and enjoy school. At any rate, he used to.

Then, over Christmas, of all times, his father announced he was leaving Vanessa, as he’d found someone else. To add insult to injury, this new woman was allegedly expecting his child. The affair had been going on for three years, with Vanessa as surprised and shocked as anyone.

Richard had moved out two days before Christmas, thereby completely devastating the small family he left behind. The pair of them had cried together under a Christmas tree, with presents for their father/husband lying unopened.

He’d admitted adultery, so the divorce had gone through quickly. However, he’d immediately left Britain with his woman for New Zealand, making the financial settlement difficult at best, and downright impossible at worst. He’d liquidised all assets, despite the judge ordering him to leave assets in the UK in order to pay Vanessa a fixed income of thirty thousand a year until Simon was twenty-one; and twenty thousand a year thereafter. She retained the house, but the judge ordered him to pay the mortgage. By selling everything and leaving the country, he made life as difficult as possible for Vanessa. In the end, she had to fly to New Zealand with legal papers, and instruct a local solicitor to deal with them, taking him to court there to seize assets.

Richard fought every inch of the way, and still reneged on the agreements, despite courts in the UK and New Zealand making judgments in Vanessa’s favour. The solicitors in both countries were working on it, but it was a slow and expensive process. He hadn’t paid the mortgage for six months, so Vanessa had to negotiate a twelve-month suspension of payments in order to attempt to prise some assets from her ex-husband.

These events affected Simon deeply, as his father had clearly shown that he couldn’t care less for him. All through the hard times, Vanessa had shared her feelings with him, unaware that it had the effect of making him grow up prematurely. On the outside, he was still a thirteen year-old with spots, but inside he was almost an adult. Vanessa had cuddled the boy for many a night, more for her benefit than her son’s, and the lad had silently sworn he would make his father pay.

Vanessa also hated the man in so many ways, but just couldn’t seem to find the energy to continue the fight. The single thing that kept her going was her son, and if it wasn’t for him, she have given up and done something foolish.

As his mother was seeing Mr Carter, Simon was staring out the window. He’d found how to detach himself from the real world, and at this moment was in a sort of nether world of his own making.

He hated his father so much that the hate had taken over his very being. He’d seen how devastated his mother was, and he just couldn’t forgive his Dad for that. He felt personally betrayed and despised, and wanted to make his father pay. Oh, he wanted his father to pay!

Simon was a slight boy, good looking, but physically an immature thirteen year-old. His short hair was auburn with natural light brown highlights, his eyes were blue/grey and he was exchanging freckles for spots. He was a normal, insecure thirteen year old, who had recently managed to collect many more insecurities than normal.

With all his heart, he wanted to be an adult. An adult could travel the world, do things he couldn’t do, so he was angry over his inability to control things. He hated being small and relatively weak; it frustrated him beyond measure. His saw the pain his mother was going through, and understood why tired she was of fighting. He saw how weakened by events she was and he wanted to help her. Inside, he felt he was stronger than she was, particularly as he saw how much she was hurting.

Over the past few days, he was so obsessed with thinking of how he could make his father pay that he’d hardly seen the adults come and go. He heard them, but chose to ignore them. He allowed himself to be taken wherever they wanted him to go, he simply didn’t talk to them. They wouldn’t and couldn’t understand.

Someone entered into his field of vision. He moved slightly, so to maintain sight of that bent and twisted twig at the top of the chestnut tree outside his window.

“Simon, it’s Mummy,” a familiar voice said. He reluctantly focussed on his mother’s worried face. He was angry. Why had they called her? Didn’t they realise she’d suffered enough?

“Simon, sweetie, it’s Mummy. Please speak to me.”

“I hate him!” he said, and he watched as the tears welled up in his mother’s blue eyes. He thought his mother was beautiful, and she didn’t deserve what she was going through.

“I’m sorry. I just hate him so much!” he repeated.

His mother enveloped him with a hug, and they broke down together. The matron left them alone. She was pleased the lad had spoken, but was seriously worried about his mental state, nevertheless.

Vanessa agreed to take Simon home. School was not the place for him at this time, so she assured them she would take him to the family doctor, and attempt some counselling. They advised her to attempt to obtain a child psychologist’s assessment.

She drove in silence. Simon stared out of the window, his face expressionless and eyes vacant.

Finally, she became bored of the heavy silence.

“Why, Simon? You know how hard everything is at the moment?”

“I’m sorry. I hate him so much. I just want him to pay!”

“So do I sweetie, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“It should! He should be made to suffer the way you’re suffering.”

Vanessa smiled a very sad smile.

“I agree, but life is tough enough, just getting through every day as it comes is almost more than I can bear.”

“I feel useless, just stuck in school, unable to get out and do anything.”

“Honestly, Simon, if only I could be your age again, just stuck in school without a care in the world. I’d give anything to be able to stop the world and get off. You have no idea how difficult my life is at the moment, I really don’t need you throwing a wobbly.”

Simon looked at his mother and then looked away, feeling guilty. He adored his mother, and it hurt him deeply to see her like this. Normally so full of fun and laughter, he couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled properly.

It was a wet November day, and Vanessa was trying to work out how she was going to arrange everything, stay working and look after Simon all at the same time. Her mind was only partially concentrating on driving.

The A40 was busy, the road was wet and the wind was picking up. Spray made visibility poor and driving conditions worsened by the minute. She was heading towards down into Oxfordshire from Stokenchurch. At this point, the road was simply one lane in each direction, twisting round the steep hill. They had just reached the bottom, and were travelling along a relatively straight bit of road.

Travelling the other way was a removal lorry. Colin Granger was sixty-one and overweight. He was eating a sausage roll while he was driving. They’d just completed a long distance move, so were driving back to the depot with an empty truck. It had been a long day, as they’d set out from the depot at five in the morning.

The Coroner’s report was uncertain as to the exact order of the chain of events, but it seems the strong gust of wind occurred at about the same time as the first chest pains.

Whatever started it, Colin jerked the steering wheel, dropping the half-eaten sausage roll, causing the van to veer across into the oncoming carriageway. Stuart Hall, in the cab with Colin, realised what was happening, grabbed the wheel, and tried to restore the original course of direction. The wet road aggravated the situation.

Colin, gripped by another agonising chest pain, let go of the steering wheel and slumped forward, thereby making Stuart’s attempts to control the large vehicle even more difficult.

Vanessa had little time to react. She saw a large high-sided van heading directly for her. As with many drivers, she immediately panicked and jammed her foot on the brake, causing the car to skid off the road and down the grass embankment. The front of the car embedded itself into the water-filled ditch.

Stuart just managed to keep the truck on the road, but it started to fishtail sideways, as Colin’s foot was firmly stuck on the accelerator. Stuart knocked the gears into neutral, pulling the handbrake on at the same time.

The truck slewed ninety degrees sideways, taking out a telegraph pole and an electricity pole as it went, leaving the road and almost toppling over as it hit the verge, but coming to a standstill in the upright position, although blocking the road. The electricity pole fell and the live wires entered the ditch.

Sparks flew everywhere, and horrified onlookers watched as a blue arc seemed to leap from the damaged junction box onto the top of the BMW in the ditch.

Cars were abandoned as people rushed to help. Horrified onlookers called the police and the ambulance service, while chaos descended on this small section of rural highway.

PC Ron Fitton and his partner PC Sue Howell were in a traffic car, call sign TM91. They were assigned to the serious injury accident on the A40, and made with all possible speed - siren wailing and blue lights flashing.

Arriving at the scene, they saw two ambulances already there. A harassed paramedic came over to them.

“There are three casualties at least. I think the driver of the truck is having a heart attack and is in a very bad way. There are two people in the BMW, a mother and son by the look of it. The truck had knocked the power lined into the ditch, and it may have electrocuted them. I’ve the air ambulance helicopter coming, but there’s a good chance they may all die!”

A fire truck arrived, and disgorged five fire fighters. One of them started removing the cutting equipment from the side of the truck.

Ron immediately called for back up and a supervisor, stating that they had possible three 10/10s (deaths). Giving the index of both vehicles, the two officers put their hats and coats on and went to try to sort it out.

The police closed the road, so all the other drivers grumbled but turned round to attempt to find alternative routes to their intended destinations.

Sue approached the BMW, noting the wires, and hesitated in touching the water. Two fire fighters stood next to her, looking relieved.

“We won’t need the cutting equipment. It looks like you’ll be able to open this one without any problem,” the senior one said.

A call on the radio ensured the electricity company had switched that circuit off so, using rubber gloves, she opened the car door.

The car wasn’t badly damaged, but the airbags had deployed, protecting the two people in the front seat. The woman had been driving, and a boy, her son presumably, was in the passenger seat. Sue was relieved to see that both were wearing seat belts. She checked the boy’s pulse, and was relieved to find one. She shouted to the paramedics. They were working on the heart attack victim, but at that moment, another ambulance arrived.

It took them a while for the fire fighters to open the driver’s door, but to everyone’s surprise, both casualties were alive but unconscious. The fire fighters removed both casualties carefully, strapping them both to body-boards, and evacuating them by air ambulance to Stoke Mandeville Hospital.

Colin died before they could get him into the ambulance, while Stuart sat shaking in the rear of an ambulance, suffering from severe shock.
 

*          *          *
 
Simon didn’t so much wake up, as become slowly more aware that he was conscious. He smelled he was in hospital before he even opened his eyes. He remembered the big van sliding sideways at the car, and his mother’s screams. There was a horrible bump and a smell of burning plastic, before blissful darkness.

He was reluctant to open his eyes, as it was quite nice in the dark. He suddenly thought of his father, and that made him angry. His anger made him wake up.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at an off-white ceiling with a strip-light. Something was over his face and tubes were attached to his left arm.

A nurse appeared in his field of vision. She was oriental, Chinese or something like that. She was small and pretty.

“Hello. Welcome back, how are you feeling?”

Simon nodded, as he didn’t feel like talking.

“Good. I tell the doctor and she’ll come see you. Is there anything you want?”

Simon shook his head. He felt tired and closed his eyes again.

He became aware that someone was gently shaking his arm. He opened his eyes and saw a white-coated woman. She was about the same age as his mum. She smiled as she saw his eyes open.

“Hello. I’m Doctor Garrett; I’m the duty doctor. You were in an accident. How do you feel?”

Simon tried speaking, and it came out as a mumble. The doctor removed the oxygen.

“Fine, I think.”

“Excellent. You’ve been unconscious for nearly an hour. Do you remember what happened?”

Simon frowned. He thought for a moment. His brain was like fuzzy cotton wool.

“I remember a big truck, skidding and then a ditch. Some burning and then nothing.”

“Well, you were very lucky. It seems the car shorted out the electric shock from some cables, so you and your son were relatively unharmed.”

Simon nodded and then thought about what she said. Son?

Eyes wide open, he exclaimed, “Son?”

“Simon is still unconscious, Mrs Williamson, but he has not suffered any lasting injuries. He’s sustained some bruising due to the seat belt, but his signs are good. I’m expecting him to come round anytime now,” she said.

Simon tried to sit up. The doctor and nurse stopped him.

“Vanessa, please, he’s fine. Just relax and rest. He’s in the next bed to you. Please, just stay still, we’ve monitors and IV drips attached to you. You’ve also got a urinary catheter attached, so if you lie back, we’ll make you more comfortable.”

Simon let them remove the tubes and wires. The removal of the catheter was uncomfortable and unpleasant. His mind was in a whirl. How could they mistake him for his mother?

The nurse pulled back the curtain surrounding the bed and he glanced across to the next bed.

There, looking as if he was asleep was a boy. Despite being attached to monitors, with IV tubes and a mask, the boy looked very like him. In fact, the boy was him! That meant…

Simon glanced at his hands - shaped, red-varnished nails on feminine but adult hands filled his vision. Tentatively, he touched his face and then moved down to his chest.

As soon as he encountered the two mounds of flesh attached to his chest, he realised that he was now the proud owner of a pair of breasts. He looked down, as he cupped them through the hospital gown. They filled his hands and he could feel the large nipples harden as he touched them.

His brain then did what it was designed to do under extreme stress, it shut down, and the woman, who should have been Vanessa Williamson, but wasn’t, fainted.
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
The doctor was concerned, as the patient passed out as soon as the various IV drips and catheter were removed. There was no physical reason for the faint, so she concluded that it was shock and reaction to seeing her son in the next bed. They had decided that it would be better if they were together, but now she questioned that decision.

She needn’t have worried, for the woman came round quite quickly. Her eyes went wide open and seemed filled with tears. The doctor went to some length to calm her down, for some reason she was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Vanessa, it really is all right. Simon is okay. He’s just resting, and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery. When the body goes into shock, the brain often induces unconsciousness to help recovery. So, he’ll be fine, you have to believe me.”

Simon stared at the woman, but heard nothing.

‘I’m in Mum’s body - I’m a woman - Shit! - I’m a woman! - Oh shit, shit, shit. What do I do? I can’t tell anyone, they’ll lock me up, oh shit!’ he thought.

The doctor, noticing her patient was hyperventilating, replaced the oxygen mask over her face.

Simon breathed deeply on the doctor’s instructions and calmed down. His mind was working overtime. He recalled the last thing his mother had said to him, “Honestly, Simon, if only I could be your age again. Just stuck in school without a care in the world. I’d give anything to be able to stop the world and get off! You have no idea how difficult my life is at the moment, I really don’t need you throwing a wobbly!”

He felt a calmness fall over him. This had happened because she had wanted it. It was as if she had been granted a wish. Now she had stopped the world and got off, it was left to him take over and take control.

The doctor was looking worried, so he removed the mask.

“I’m all right now, doctor, honest. I was just so shocked to see him like that.”

The doctor seemed relieved and relaxed.

Simon thought his voice sounded odd. Not like how his mother sounded at all. Then he remembered hearing a tape of his own voice, and that didn’t sound like he thought he sounded either.

“Are you sure?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, positive.”

“Okay. If you need anything, please call the nurse. Just, please, stay in bed for the moment, all right?”

Simon smiled and nodded. It seemed to work, for the woman left him alone.

He lay back against the pillows, coming to terms with his unusual predicament. He felt a strange calmness, particularly as he remembered that he would miss double geography with the demented Mr Cross on Friday Morning. The thought made him smile. The nurse tidied the bed and, with a smile, left too.

Simon looked round cautiously, sliding his hand under the sheet. It went straight to his crotch, where, instead of the small familiar male genitalia, he encountered a crispy collection of pubic hair atop a sensual mound leading to a cleft of soft inviting warmth. He had never touched a vagina before, so it made him quite excited. The feelings he experienced were without equal. He’d experienced two wet dreams in his short life, and had masturbated to a satisfactory conclusion on perhaps five occasions. They had been rather depressing and non-events, but as he stroked his new equipment, his entire inner being seemed to glow.

He stopped, feeling guilty that he was using his mother’s body for such a selfish purpose, but then let his hand feel his breasts.

Once more, as soon as he touched them, the nipples hardened and grew. They were so sensitive, and he felt his vagina tingle and swell. The guilt returned, so he ceased his exploration.

Feeling breathless and confused, he glanced at the boy in the adjacent bed - the boy wearing his body, but without his mind. The lad looked calm and peaceful, so Simon smiled. That’s what his mother had wanted, to stop the world and get off. He wondered how the switch had taken place.

He watched as a middle-aged couple came in to visit an elderly lady in the bed opposite. He assumed one of them must be her son or daughter. He watched the younger woman. She was around forty-five, and still had a reasonable figure. Simon thought her hair was rather too short, and her clothes were on the frumpy side, but then, Vanessa was exceptionally sharp. He smiled, as he looked at another visitor as she entered the ward. This one was younger, in her twenties, but didn’t do the best with her hair. Simon thought his mum was the most beautiful woman in the world. He’d watched her dress so often that he thought he could copy her even without thinking.

They were closer than most mothers and sons. Richard was a projects manager for a petroleum company. His job took him all over the world, so he had often been away from home for extended periods. He knew his mother had wanted more children, but Richard had always thought that one was the perfect number.

Vanessa had fallen pregnant when Simon was four. One minute she was ecstatically happy and then, the next minute she was in the pits of depression. Now he knew it was a miscarriage, but then Simon thought his father had stopped her having the baby for some reason.

Richard had always been distant and rather the stranger to his son. As a result, Simon worshipped his mother and faintly distrusted his often-absent father. This new baby with his mistress was just another hurtful reason to hate him.

Sexually, he had been a normal thirteen year old. He had dreams of representing his country in a major sport, and he dreamed of beautiful girls finding him irresistible. He had never imagined, hoped or dreamed he would ever be a beautiful woman, but now he was, he felt curiously detached and somewhat interested.

In his last year at prep school, he’d taken on the female lead in the school play. He’d loved the experience, and modelled his role on his mother. Every nuance, expression and gesture he based on his memory of his mother, and everyone was amazed at his plausibility.

It wasn’t so much he was no longer a thirteen year-old boy and was now female, but the fact he was a grown up that interested him most. As a grown up, he could do grown up things. Being a woman was incidental, or at this particular time, it was. Over the next few weeks, it would become anything but! His mind started to formulate possible plans.

He must have dozed off, for someone talking to him, brought consciousness back.

He opened his eyes and saw Roz Graham peering at him.

“Oh, my God! Vanessa, you poor love, how are you, my dear?”

Roz was his mother’s friend and confidant. Simon liked her, but thought she was over-the-top with just about everything.

He almost called her Aunt Roz, as she liked to be called. She was also Simon’s godmother and was about as scatty as one could get

“Hi Roz, I’m fine, just battered a bit,” he said, smiling as he thought he sounded more like his mother this time.

Roz was the same age as Vanessa and they’d been friends ever since Richard and Vanessa had moved into their house in the village of Little Milton, near Watlington, in Oxfordshire, fifteen years ago now. She had been a ballet dancer in her younger days. Now, she taught ballet, music and dance at a girls’ school at Stadhampton.

She was another who had kept her slim and youthful figure. Richard had always referred to her as ‘the stick-insect’, and because his father hadn’t liked her, Simon thought she was quite nice. She had a daughter called Alicia, some six months younger than Simon, and a son, Neville, who was nine.

Roz could talk for Britain, but once started, took physical violence to stop.

“I only heard by accident, Stephen was travelling past the scene, he was at some bloody conference centre up near Aylesbury, Aston Clinton or some such place. Anyway, when he saw a BMW being put on the back of a truck, and loads of police taking measurements. He told me that a car like yours was being removed and I called you at home. Then I remembered you had an appointment with Simon’s headmaster, and worked out that it could have been you. Oh, my God, Simon! What happened to Simon?”

Simon/Vanessa started slightly, surprised at Roz’s sudden cessation of drivel.

“He was in the car too. He’s in the next bed,” he said, glancing at his former self.

Roz turned and gasped.

“Oh, the poor lamb. Is he alright?” she said, standing up and going over to the other bed. She bent over and gently moved some hair that was lying across the unconscious boy’s face. He looked ever so peaceful.

“He looks asleep, is he badly hurt?” Roz asked.

“The doctors don’t seem worried. I spoke to one a little while ago, and she told me that he’s a little bruised, as I am, but still unconscious. They think it might be a sort of mental reaction to recent events. It could be he just wants to stop the world and get off. Jacob, his Headmaster, said he was withdrawn and behaving very strangely. I suppose the divorce and everything has just become too much for the poor little chap.”

Simon felt a curious sensation as he spoke. It was as if he was becoming his mother. He could ‘feel’ that he had the right inflection in the voice, and he ‘felt’ that the hand and wrist movements were hers. As if to prove it, he felt his arm and hand, follow an almost familiar movement of flicking some hair away from the face.

Every moment he spent being her, he knew he was becoming more like her. It was as if he inherited an instinct as to what was truly of her.

“Aren’t you worried about him?” Roz asked.

“Of course I am, but what can I do? We’re in hospital, the doctors seem happy and I feel like shit myself. Oh, Roz, I’m tired, pissed off, and so fucking depressed, I don’t know anything anymore. Simon’s been so dreadfully unhappy, so what do you think I feel like? My world ends and I have to keep going when all I want to do is stop. I don’t blame Simon at all, for if I could, I’d curl up and sleep for six years, if I thought it would help.”

“It won’t though, love, will it?” Roz asked.

The woman who used to be Simon shook her head.

“No, Roz, it bloody won’t. This is that bastard’s entire fault. Oh, God, I wish I could make him suffer!”

Roz shook her head sadly. She had always disliked Richard, but stayed on good terms for her friend’s sake. Even so, she was shocked and surprised when he did the dirty deed, and such timing! How could anyone do that to his family just before Christmas? She came back and sat in the chair next to her friend. She reached out and took her hand.

“I’d castrate the bugger and then make him work in a brothel,” she said, and was pleased to see Vanessa smile.

“That’s far too good for him. I’d cut his prick off and then put him in a brothel, while framing him for some offence for which he’d get a good ten years inside. Imagine being a man with no prick inside a men only prison. I’d love to see him become some big bastard’s bitch!”

Roz stared at her friend. The venom with which she said that was almost tangible.

“Sorry Roz, I must seem a little bitter.”

“With just cause, my love, with just cause. Seriously, how are you?” she asked, her face grave and caring.

Without meaning to, Vanessa started to cry, and as the woman inside, and her hormones, took over. Simon was confused, but with the tears came a measure of release.

“Oh Roz, I’m so bloody miserable. My life was so good. A lovely home, a man I adored and a son who was bright and so talented. Now, what have I got? My darling son’s in a coma, the house I’ll have to sell so we can eat. A job I don’t want but have to have, because the man I adored is fucking another woman and left me with nothing. How do you think I bloody well feel?”

“Thank God, for a moment I thought you’d banged your head. At least you’re normal,” Roz said, and despite her feelings, the new Vanessa smiled.

“Thanks for being you, Roz, you always were my best friend!”

“Think nothing of it. When Stephen finally leaves me for his mistress, I’ll come and drink your gin!”

“Stephen’s got a mistress?”

“Oh God, I hope so. Otherwise he’d want to screw me twice a night!”

The pair dissolved into laughter, and the nurse glanced over with some relief.

The figure stirring in the adjacent bed cut short their laughter. The boy moved and groaned. Simon/Vanessa stared with heart racing.

Would she come round? If she did, would she remember who she was?

Would she start screaming and insist she was Vanessa Williamson?

Would they swap back?

Could they swap back?

Was he stuck like this forever?

Would they lock both of them away for being loony?

The nurse noticed the movement and was there like a shot. The boy settled down, and seemed to be asleep. The nurse summoned the doctor, and they drew the curtain around the bed.

Roz kept a tight hold of her friend’s hand.

“It’s going to be alright, Nessa, really it is,” she said.

Simon liked that name, so decided that from that moment on, that’s who he would be.(Author’s note: For the sake of the story, Simon is now Nessa and I will use ‘she’ and ‘her’ in respect of her.)

After what appeared to be an age, the nurse drew back the curtains, and the boy was still lying as if asleep.

Doctor Garrett came over to Vanessa’s bed.

“He’s in a very shallow level of unconsciousness. More like a sleep than anything else. Do you know if he was under any stress?”

Nessa laughed, as did Roz. Roz answered.

“My dear girl, this poor woman and her boy have had the shittiest year. First, a few days before last Christmas, her husband and his father announced that he was leaving, which has made life hellish ever since. That poor boy, and my friend here, has suffered more stress that you or I will ever experience!”

“That could explain things. Simon’s signs are very positive, but I believe his coma is stress induced. The scans and x-rays are clear, so there is no trauma causing it. I have experience of these sorts of cases, and sometimes the comas last several days, even a week or two. But the fact that he has already been restless is a good sign.”

“How long need I be kept in here?” Nessa asked.

“I’d like you to stay in overnight. The fact you were unconscious for a while gives us a little concern, so we’d like to keep an eye on you for twenty-four hours.”

“I need to sort out the car and things. God, I need this like a kick in the teeth,” Nessa felt she was playing a role, just like at school, and by the way Roz accepted her, she was succeeding. She felt a small bubble of excitement well up deep within her, but had to bite her lip to prevent a smile from breaking out.

“Nessa, would you like me to bring in some clothes and pick you up in the morning?”

“Oh, would you, Roz? Otherwise I could get a taxi.”

“I’ve still got a key, so I’ll bring you some clothes and then help you sort out the car.”

“Oh, Roz, I don’t have a clue what to do. Richard would have sorted all thins kind of thing out.”

“I’ll ask Stephen to give you a hand. This sort of thing is beyond me too.”

“Excuse me, Mrs Williamson?” said a male voice.

Nessa looked up and saw a police officer standing at the end of her bed.

“Yes.”

“I’m PC Ron Fitton. I’m the Traffic Officer investigating the accident. Is it possible I could speak to you about what happened?” he said.

“I’ll go and get you some clothes and stuff. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?” Roz said.

“Thanks Roz, you are a love!”

Roz kissed her friend and stroked the sleeping boy’s cheek before walking out of the ward.

PC Fitton came and sat next to the bed. He had a blue A4 folding clipboard in his hand, which he opened as he sat down.

“I’m sorry to come at a time like this. The doctor has explained that your son is still unconscious, so if this is a bad time, I can do this tomorrow, or at another time.”

“No, now’s as good a time as any. I’m probably not much use, as I don’t remember much.”

“My colleague and I attended the scene, and were there when you were both removed from your car, but I have to ask some basic questions, just for the record. Were you driving the BMW, index FZ 03 MJK, at the time of the accident?”

“No, my thirteen year old son was,” she said, testily, and then felt sorry. “I’m sorry, yes, of course.”

“I understand, but as I said, I do have to ask these questions. Please tell me exactly what you remember of the accident.”

“There was a big lorry, a removal van or something. It was coming straight at us. It was going to hit us, so I panicked, braked and swerved off the road. I remember hitting a ditch, loads of sparks and then a smell of burning. I must have blacked out then.” Nessa was pleased she didn’t have to change much. As far as the world was concerned, this was the absolute truth. No one would believe she wasn’t really Vanessa Williamson, in any case.

“Did you get a look at the driver of the lorry?”

“No, I was so scared the lorry was going to hit us. I do remember it was big and blue, that’s all. My only son was with me; I was so frightened. Was anyone else hurt?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Williamson, the driver of the lorry died. We suspect he had a heart attack at the wheel, and that’s what caused the accident. One thing - if you hadn’t swerved off the road, the lorry would have hit you, and at that speed, you would both probably have been killed.”

Nessa looked across as the unconscious boy.

Thanks Mum! She said silently.

“I’m sorry, but do you have your driver’s licence and insurance with you?”

Nessa stared at him.

“Oh, I don’t know. Um, maybe, in my handbag. But, I don’t know where it is.”

“I’ll ask the nurse, excuse me a minute.”

The officer left her, returning a few minutes later with the nurse.

“Mrs Williamson, your belongings are in the locker by your bed. The ambulance flew you in, and your bag was with you.”

She opened the locker, and there was the bag, together with all the clothes and jewellery that Vanessa had been wearing.

The nurse handed her the handbag, and Nessa opened it. She rummaged through it, and found herself holding a tampon. She blushed, and then looked in the side pocket.

“Here, is that it?” she asked, handing over the licence and a folded A4 sheet of paper.

The officer looked at them both, made a few notes on his sheet, and returned them.

“That’s fine, thanks.”

Nessa replaced the items, and put the bag down.

“The car, how bad is it?” she asked.

“It’s not as bad as some I’ve seen. You were lucky the ground was so wet, only superficial damage to the front and the tracking may be out. A few hundred quid in the body shop, and it should be right as rain, as long as the electrics are all right. There were reports of blue sparks and burning.”

“I remember them. Where is it?”

“Because it was a fatal accident, the car was recovered to Studley Green. We will examine it in the morning, but actually, as there was no contact between your vehicle and the lorry, you can have it removed to your own repairer as soon after that as you want; say noon onwards. I’ve spoken to the removal company, and their insurance will accept full liability.”

“What do I do now? I’ve never had an accident before.”

The officer smiled.

“On your certificate is a phone number. Give the number against the claims section a ring. Explain what has happened, and let them take care of the rest. This card tells you all the information you need for them. The name of the deceased driver, the van details and company name and telephone number are all there, together with the insurance company details, the time and location of the accident. My name and shoulder number is at the bottom.”

Nessa took the card, and was genuinely grateful. Suddenly living in an adult world seemed rather more daunting than she had first thought.
 
 
Chapter 3
 
 
The policeman had left about an hour ago, so Nessa pretended to doze to give her time to think.

There was a lot to think about, and most of it was quite disconcerting. She could not see any way back to her original body, so felt slightly cheated. Mum was thirty-five, which meant she was now twenty-two years older, in a blink, literally. She glanced over to the boy, and noticed he was restless, on the verge of waking up, perhaps.

She dreaded that happening, for mother had been so highly strung, finding herself in his body would tip her over the edge. Nessa realised that even though it had been a matter of a few hours, she thought herself as a woman, and not as a boy trapped inside his mother’s body. She smiled, as it was quite nice really - being treated as a grown-up. However, she was under no illusions, this was going to be tricky and fraught with danger.

She picked up the handbag and emptied the contents onto the bed. The driving licence was particularly exciting, and yet alarming at the same time. Simon had only driven the odd old banger around on farms, so Nessa was now allowed to drive, yet knew it would be irresponsible and dangerous if she did so.

There were some cosmetics, tampons, keys, tissues, a brush and comb, a purse containing cash and credit cards, and loads of bits and pieces. She took out a tampon and stared at it, turning it over in her hand.

Suddenly, life had become more complex.

‘I have to stick this up me?’ she asked herself. ‘Urgh!’

She looked at one of the credit cards, particularly at the signature on the back. Using a pen, she practised writing the signature a few times, finding it easy.

She was replacing the articles into the bag when a well-dressed man came up to her. She recognised him as being Trevor Goodman, the senior partner of Goodman, Kettle and Ffolkes, the solicitors for whom Vanessa worked. He was a big man in his early sixties, with florid complexion and grey hair swept back. He was wearing a dark pinstripe suit with a pink shirt.

“Vanessa, my love, what a terrible thing. How are you?” His voice was over-cultured and slightly pompous as lawyers tended to be.

“Still alive, Trevor, just.”

The man looked towards the boy in the other bed.

“And poor Simon too, is he okay?”

“They don’t know. He’s still unconscious. They think he should come round soon, but it’s all very worrying.”

“I’m sure it is. We got a call from your friend Roz Graham, so I thought I’d pop down and see how thing were.”

Nessa told him all about the accident, that the car was now somewhere, giving him the card the policeman had given her.

Trevor looked at it.

“Would you like me to sort out the car for you?”

“Would you? That would be wonderful. Richard dealt with all that sort of thing, so I don’t even know where to start. I just renewed the insurance when it came through.” She delved into the handbag and dug out the insurance certificate, handing it over as well.

“Don’t worry about work. Just you get better and come back when you feel like it. You’ve had so much bad luck recently, so the last thing you need to worry about is a job.”

Nessa felt gratitude flood through her, and found herself crying again. It confused her, as women seemed to cry a lot more than she realised.

Trevor seemed embarrassed, so took out a large red spotted handkerchief and blew his nose to cover his feelings. Nessa found the sight so silly she stopped crying and started to giggle, changing it into a cough at the last moment.

He stayed for a few more minutes, obviously feeling awkward and was relieved when a nurse appeared to see to her patients. Kissing Vanessa gently on the cheek, he bade her farewell and felt quite hurriedly.

“He seems a nice man,” the nurse, Lucy, said.

“Yes, he’s my boss. He’s a lovely man but not really at home here.”

“Who is?” Lucy asked and smiled.

Lucy checked Simon, and noted some findings on the chart at the end of the bed.

“How is he?” Nessa asked.

“Everything seems normal, except he isn’t awake. Has he been restless?”

“Very, why?”

“That’s a good sign. I think he’ll come round very soon.”

“Good!” Nessa said, but feeling less than enthusiastic. She wanted her mother to be okay, but stay out of things for a while. She envisioned real traumas when the woman finally came round and discovered her predicament.

A woman in a green coverall came and gave Nessa a cup of tea, so she was amazed to find out it was only five in the afternoon.

She then realised that her bladder needed emptying.

Cursing softly, she sat up, feeling slightly dizzy for a moment. Allowing the spell to pass, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and, holding onto the bed, she stood up.

Her hair swept past her ears and rested on the back of her neck. She also felt the weight of her breasts on her chest. They were quite firm and didn’t sag, but there was a wobble and movement that was unexpected and disconcerting. They were odd sensations, but she smiled. In a day of odd sensations, what were a couple more?

She let go of the bed and realised the gown was open all down the back. There was a hospital robe draped across the end of the bed, so she put it on, reluctant to show her new bum off to the world.

She walked up the ward, where she met Lucy coming the other way.

“Are you all right, Vanessa?” the girl asked.

“Fine, I need to go to the loo, that’s all.”

Lucy took her and showed her where it was. Gratefully, Nessa shut the door, lifted her clothing and sat down on the toilet. The experience wasn’t that different, it just sprayed instead of streaming in a jet. Vanessa rarely shut the loo door when having a pee, so Nessa knew to wipe herself.

She finished, washed her hands and stared at the odd reflection in the mirror. It was very peculiar looking at your own mother from the inside.

‘Can I do this?’ she asked her reflection, and had a conversation with herself.

‘Why not? No one knows any different, how difficult can it be?’

‘But there’s so much to understand, and I don’t know where to start.’

‘Take things one-step at a time. You’ve managed up to now with no problem, and people are falling over to help you!’

‘But I’m a woman!’

‘So? How hard can it be? If Mum managed so can you.’

‘Mum had a lifetime to get it right; I’ve been a girl for less than a day.’

‘Mum lost her husband, so she fucked up big time, so even adults don’t get things right.’

‘It wasn’t Mum’s fault.’

‘She should never have married him in the first place, so she fucked up then.’

“That’s not fair, she was in love and he was probably different then.’

‘He was always a lying cheating bastard, it’s just he managed to hide it for fifteen years.’

‘If they hadn’t married, they’d never have had me.’

‘True.’

Nessa noted her hair was a mess, and without makeup, she was looking tired and drawn.

‘Oh, so we’re suddenly an expert on makeup?’

‘It can’t be that hard, I’ve seen Mum do it so often, I should be able to manage.’

‘This I have to see!’

She washed her face, and decided she was actually feeling better. She took off the robe and gown and stared down at her body. It was so alien and different, that she suddenly felt out of her depth again.

Running her hands over the curving contours, she liked the soft and firm feel of it. She was grateful that Vanessa went to the gym regularly and kept fit. It was the shape that surprised Nessa most. As Simon he knew that Mum was a different shape, but now, seeing the naked body he’d taken for granted for so long, she appreciated how different that shape was.

The waist was slim, and yet the hips and bum were larger. Firm muscles, lithe rather than chunky, gave her arms and legs good definition without losing any elegance. Standing five foot eight in bare feet, she was quite tall for a woman. Simon always thought her a very attractive woman, and now Nessa thought Richard was a very stupid man.

She dressed and left the loo, making her way back. As she got close to her bed, she realised that Simon was sitting staring at her with shock on his face.

She forced herself to smile.

“Oh, good you’re awake at last. How are you feeling?”

“You…you…you’re me!” the boy gasped, eyes looking panic-stricken and pointing at her with a very shaky hand.

Nessa looked round the ward and relaxed, no one was looking. She sat on his bed, and took hold of the shaky hand.

“Yes, SIMON dear, I’m you and you’re me. But, unless you want them to lock us away and chuck the key in the Thames, you have to say nothing. I don’t know how it happened, but somehow you got your wish!” she whispered at him.

“M..m…my wish?”

“Don’t you remember the last thing you said to me, just before the crash?”

“Huh?”

“The last thing you said to me was: - “Honestly, Simon, if only I could be your age again. Just stuck in school without a care in the world. I’d give anything to be able to stop the world and get off! You have no idea how difficult my life is at the moment, I really don’t need you throwing a wobbly!” Don’t you remember?”

The boy stared at her, a frown creasing his young face.

“I didn’t mean it!” he said.

“Mean it or not, it’s happened, and I don’t think this is in any medical book, so we keep quiet about it until we can work out what to do. I’m not exactly thrilled to lose twenty-two years of my life and my willy as well!”

“Oh my God!” the boy said, and thrust both hands down the front of the hospital pyjamas. His face drained of colour and he fell back against the pillows in a dead faint.

Nessa smiled, shook her head and waited for him to come round again. He wasn’t long.

Vanessa looked at the woman wearing her body, horror on the boy’s face.

“How?”

“I don’t know. There was electricity arcing through the water onto the car, so it must have been something to do with that. But, it is so important that you pretend that nothing’s wrong, otherwise it’s the loony bin for both of us!”

Dumbly the boy shook his head, inside of which, Vanessa was unable to think straight. At that moment, Doctor Garrett came over to the pair. She was smiling.

“Hello Simon, you’ve had a long sleep, how do you feel?”

The boy looked at the woman who was supposed to be his mother. Nessa nodded slightly and then he looked at the doctor.

“Um, I’m okay, I think,” the boy said, vaguely. Nessa breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. Any aches or pains anywhere?”

Simon frowned and was obviously thinking about it.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, staring at the woman who was also his/her son.

“Excellent! Then let me just check you over, now you’re awake.”

She and the nurse pulled the curtain round and thoroughly checked the young man over. Dr Garrett was satisfied he was fine, and all the tubes, monitors and plumbing were removed.

“Good. You and your Mum can go home in the morning. Your clothes are in the locker. If you want some food this evening, that’s fine. Once the senior registrar does his rounds tomorrow, you may be discharged. A lady will be round with the food soon.”

They watched the doctor and nurse move off, and then the boy turned on the woman.

“I can’t stay like this!” Vanessa said.

“Okay, swap back then,” her son, the woman, replied.

“How?”

Nessa smiled.

“Mum, I don’t know. Maybe we’re stuck like this forever. Even if we’re not, we have to make the best of things. I certainly intend to,” she said.

A woman who wanted to know what they wanted to eat interrupted them. Nessa realised that ‘mother dear’ wasn’t capable of making any decisions concerning everyday things like food.

“Two shepherds pies will be fine, than you,” she said, and concentrated on trying to bring Vanessa back to planet earth. She could tell that the screaming ab-dabs weren’t far off.

“Mum! Calm down. You have to calm down and accept the way things are. We both know that there is nothing the doctors can do about it. So, if there are any answers, they are outside, and so that’s where we have to be. If you insist on creating a scene, then we’ll be stuck inside some mental ward, and who knows when we’d get out!”

The boy settled down.

“I need the loo,” he said, his voice small and embarrassed. Nessa smiled.

“I’ve already had that pleasure. Come on, I’ll come too, if you want?”

The boy nodded. Nessa thought he looked lost and very vulnerable.

“Look, I can’t call you ‘Mum’, so you’ll have to learn to answer to Simon or Sy, and call me Mum, okay?”

The boy nodded, tears in his eyes.

“It’s not so bad. We’ve still got each other,” Nessa said, trying to give him some encouragement.

“I don’t understand how you can take this so calmly.”

Nessa smiled again.

“Me neither, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

She helped the boy stand, and together they made for the loo.

He decided to sit, which made Nessa smile again.

“You’ll have to learn to stand; you can’t sit when you go back to school.”

“I can’t go to school, I’ve a job!”

“No, I’ve a job, and Trevor has told me that I can have as much time off as I need. You have to go back to school; otherwise I’ll be classed as a negligent mother!”

“You wouldn’t dare to send me to that place!”

“Watch me. You were the one who wished this to happen, so, Mummy darling, you’re going to have to live with it.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can, and you will. You seemed to spend so much time telling me how wonderful your schooldays were, and how much you loved this and that. Well, you’ve got your wish, you’ve got off the world, and now you can go back to school and have fun!”

“I told you, I never meant it!”

“Tough, we’ve both got to keep going and live each other’s lives until we can work out how to swap back. It could be worse,” Nessa said.

“How?”

“You could be still married and I’d have to go to bed with my father!”

“Oh God!” the boy broke down in tears and put his head in his hands.

Eventually, he recovered composure and they got back to their beds, so Nessa, feeling inquisitive, delved into the locker and produced her clothes. They were still damp and dirty, from when Vanessa had been extracted from the BMW in the damp conditions.

She looked at the bra holding it up by one end and letting it spin gently.

“Simo…Mum! What are you doing?”

Nessa looked at the boy with a smile.

“I’m going to have to wear this. How the hell do I put it on?”

Together they dressed Nessa in her underclothes. She marvelled at the feel of the underwear and the tights in particular. Without decent outer garments, she simply put on the hospital robe. As she slipped the court shoes on, she did a little twirl.

“These feel so nice, no wonder you like these things,” she said, and Sy went red.

“Okay, makeup. What do I do?”

Sy rolled his eyes, and emptied the makeup from the handbag. Ten minutes later he was satisfied that Nessa had applied a little make up to his satisfaction, and looked reasonable, considering.

“I have to do this every day?” Nessa asked.

“Every morning, and freshen up at every opportunity. Then in the evening, you have to take it off again.”

“Bummer!”

For the first time, the boy smiled. Nessa noticed and smiled back.

“See, this is quite funny, if you think about it.”

They both smiled, which developed into laughter, and they laughed until they cried. The nurse was worried and came over to investigate the noise. On finding the boy and his mother suffering from hysterical laughter, she shook her head and walked away. She got all sorts in this ward.

Nessa and Sy, the latter reluctantly accepting their new identities, settled down and talked seriously about their predicament. There were no clues as to how they’d swapped over, and therefore, no way of knowing how to reverse the process.

“We have to research this, I could surf the net for ideas,” Nessa suggested.

“You’ll only find a bunch of crackpots and sci-fi nuts. No, there has to be another way. I know a professor of paranormal activities. He might have an answer, or even know whom to approach,” Sy said.

“Where does he hang out?”

“Last I heard he was at Exeter University. That was a few years ago now.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing. What’s his name?”

“Raymond Burton, he’s a real eccentric. He was there when I was at university, and I came across one of his lectures by accident. I was reading law, and his lecture was on the legality of persons who could transfer their identities by brain transplant. It was a humorous fun-type lecture done during rag week, but despite his funny manner, style and content, I could tell he was quite serious about the subject. I met him later at a big dinner party, and he was completely absorbed by his subject, but not really in tune with the real world. I found him great fun, but slightly potty. He was convinced that the human mind has yet to be truly exploited, and once we get the hang of it, enormous power is waiting to be unleashed.”

“That was years ago, how could you be sure he’s still there?”

“I’m not. The last time I say him was three years ago. We went back for a ten-year reunion, and he was there then.”

They had to cease their chat, as the catering staff brought their food and, as they were finishing up, Roz arrived clutching a small holdall.

She was delighted to see Simon awake and appearing unaffected by his ordeal, but she was even more pleased to see her friend dressed and looking normal.

She hugged them both, and Nessa could tell that Sy was tempted to tell Roz everything. She shook her head and Sy nodded in agreement.

“I called Trevor, has he been in?” she asked.

Nessa told her about Trevor’s visit, and that he was taking care of the insurance and car.

“Thanks goodness. These things make men feel useful, don’t they, love?” Roz asked. Nessa smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Have you called your mother?” Roz asked.

Nessa experienced a sinking feeling.

“No, what with all the excitement, I never thought about it.”

“I don’t think we need worry her, Mum,” said Simon.

Nessa looked at the boy and they exchanged a strange smile. Roz frowned, but this was very like them. Of all the families she knew, Vanessa and Simon had an almost unnaturally close relationship. However, now knowing what an utter sod Richard had been, she understood them a little better.

“Perhaps so. She’d only worry, and the policeman said the car wasn’t even that badly damaged,” Nessa said.

They chatted about many things, and Roz was none the wiser. If anything her friend was less depressed than she had been last week, yet she now had more to be depressed about. She left them in order to get home to get dinner ready for her husband, and was much happier leaving them in such a good mood. She told them she’d be back at around 8 a.m. to collect them.

Once she’d gone, Nessa opened the holdall and found a dress that Roz had selected for her. She carefully slipped it over her head, so as not to ruin the make up.

“I’m going for a walk,” Nessa announced.

“Where?”

“Just anywhere to get out of here for a bit. I need to get used to moving about in these shoes and stuff.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Why not? If I make a mistake, you can put me right.”

She waited for the boy to dress. She smiled, as this whole experience was so surreal, she half expected to wake up and discover it was all a dream.

They walked out of the ward and along a huge corridor to a central lobby area. There was a shop and café there, so they bought some drinks and sat watching the world go by. Sy told Nessa to take smaller steps, and try to point her toes out more.

“Shoulders back, and don’t swagger. Swing the hips and let the arms flow naturally,” he told her.

“You’re going to have to stop mincing. Otherwise you’ll get teased rotten,” Nessa said, and they both grinned.

“I need the loo again,” Sy said.

“Go on then. I’m not coming this time.”

She watched him disappear to the gents and smiled.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” a voice said. She turned and looked at the speaker. He was a tall young man, with fair curly hair and dressed in jeans and a tee shirt.

“Sorry, it is. My son’s just popped to the loo.”

“Son? You don’t look old enough. My apologies,” he said and then went elsewhere to find a chair.

Nessa was blushing furiously, but inside was delighted with the exchange.

Sy returned and asked why she was looking so pleased with herself.

She told him.

“Oh God, you’ve started picking men up already!” Sy said, and Nessa laughed.

They returned to the ward, both hoping they’d wake up restored to their normal selves. Nessa was not quite as hopeful as Sy.
 
 
Chapter 4
 
 
Roz was late, but so were the doctors. Nessa and Sy woke to find that nothing miraculous had occurred, as they were still in the wrong bodies.

They washed and dressed, Nessa applying the makeup with minimum interference/assistance from Sy. She wore the same dress from the holdall, and even managed to wash her hair. Sy wore the same clothes as yesterday, and Nessa could tell he wasn’t happy.

The doctors came round, asked some questions and were grateful to release two beds for people who needed them, discharging Nessa and Sy with instructions relating to compression and concussion. Carrying the holdall, they waited in the lobby area, where, after ten minutes Roz came rushing in. She blanked them completely, and was about to tear off down the corridor.

“Roz! Over here,” Nessa cried.

The woman stopped and, with some relief, came over and joined them.

“Sorry, Alicia was a nightmare this morning. She’s fighting me over ballet, of all things.”

“She doesn’t want to do it?” Nessa asked.

“She’s being a pain. She tells me that I can’t further my career at her expense, and the wants to stop now. She’s so talented, she could be so good.”

“Roz, if she doesn’t want to, forcing her will do no good at all, talent or no talent,” Nessa said, and Sy looked at her with fresh eyes.

“I know, but I had such hopes for her.”

They walked out into the damp November day. Roz hadn’t so much parked her car, as abandoned it on a flowerbed. It was a faintly battered Nissan Patrol, and Nessa knew they had horses and horseboxes. During the walk, Nessa became aware of the fact that most men did more than simply glance in her direction. She found she liked the attention, and remembered to walk properly, adding a little extra swing to her hips.

Roz’s driving hadn’t improved. Nessa believed she should get a job with the tank corps, as she paid no attention to anyone else. It was a small miracle that she arrived back at Little Milton without leaving a trail of destruction and death.

“Do you need me for anything else?” she asked as they opened up the house.

“I don’t think so, Roz, thanks. If I do, I’ll call.”

“Right, I have got to sort out Grumbleweed’s hooves. I’ll pop in later. You’re both coming to dinner tonight, okay?” she said, and with a spray of gravel, the Nissan sped out of the drive before Nessa could answer.

It was after ten when Nessa opened the house, and put her bag on the hall table in the same way as Vanessa had always done in the past.

“You look so like me,” Sy said, watching her.

“I am you, my darling. See if you can dig out Raymond’s phone number. I think we’d best be heading down to Exeter as soon as possible.”

“What about dinner?”

“He won’t want to see us before tomorrow, even at best, so let’s just get prepared.”

“I need a shower, so I don’t intend to do anything until I’m clean!” Sy said, running up to the bathroom, ripping off the clothes on the way.

Nessa walked round the house. She liked the feel of the clothes, the sound of the heels on the hard floors, and the feel of her body. She kept seeing her reflection in mirrors and every time she did so, she felt a small surge of excitement and pleasure. Being an attractive woman was so much more rewarding than being an immature and spotty thirteen-year-old boy.

She walked into the kitchen, put on the kettle and sat on a stool. She picked up a copy of Cosmopolitan and flicked through it. The phone rang, so she answered it.

“Ah, Vanessa, Trevor here.”

“Morning Trevor, any news?”

“Some. The local BMW repairers are going to take in the car this afternoon, so that’s sorted. The assessor just rang, the damage is a couple of thousand quid, but it should take only three or four days, as some of the electrics are buggered. The bodywork and structure are sound, but the surge of electricity didn’t help. The insurance people are fine, they’re sending you a claims form, so as soon as you complete it and send it back they can authorise the work to start. They reminded me that with your policy you can have a hire car, so I’ve asked them to drop one off for you. It will be with you in a couple of hours, is that all right?”

Nessa was dumbfounded. “Lovely, t.t..thanks,” she stammered.

“How are you today?”

“Better, and it is so nice to be home.”

“And Simon?”

“Simon’s fine. He came round just after you left. He’s home too.”

“Jolly good. What’s the plan?”

“I’m not sure, Trevor. I need to take Simon to a specialist regarding his problems at school. Then I have to sort out my bloody ex. I know it’s a cheek, but would you mind if I had a couple of weeks to sort things out?”

“As I told you, you take your time. Come back when you’re ready. It’s not as if we’re paying you to be off.”

Nessa knew that. The arrangement was temporary and informal. It suited Vanessa, and yet now they were seriously short of capital.

“Thanks Trevor, for everything.”

“One more thing, were you aware that Richard had some share certificates lodged with the firm?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Well, I think in the haste of leaving, he must have forgotten about them. In the light of the judge awarding you his assets, I believe these must be part of the assets. What would you like me to do with them?”

“What are they?”

“A mixed bag. Some Green King Brewery certificates, a few BP, Boots the chemists and one or two others.”

“How much are they worth?”

“Current value, about twenty thousand, give or take a couple of quid owing to market fluctuation.”

“Twenty thousand?” Nessa was amazed. It sounded a lot, but then she knew that twenty thousand went nowhere in this day and age.

“Can you put ten in Simon’s name and the rest to me?”

“Very wise, my dear. Consider it done. I’ll send some forms through for you to sign, and we’ll get that done as soon as.”

“Thanks.”

Smiling, she hung up the phone. If she had to go back, there was ten grand waiting. She stood up and made herself a cup of coffee. It made her smile, for as Simon she’d never even think of making a hot drink. It was one of Vanessa’s affectations, so now she was emulating her as closely as she could.

She sat and looked at the magazine as she drank, aware that she was turning into a clone of her mother. She wondered if her mother would revert to become a clone of Simon. Sy came into the kitchen and stared at the figure sitting so poised and calm, flicking through a woman’s magazine as if she was actually enjoying it.

“Do you want a coffee?” Nessa asked.

“You don’t drink coffee,” the boy said. Nessa looked into her half empty cup.

“Do now,” she said.

Sy walked over and peered into the kettle, and then pressing the button to bring it to the boil.

“Enjoy your shower?”

“This body is so strange.”

Nessa laughed. “I think I can agree with that statement. Mind you, you have some interesting erogenous zones,” she said, opening the magazine to a page marked ‘Erogenous Central’.

“This is so unnatural,” he said with a look of disgust.

“But, you have to admit, kinda interesting,” Nessa said with a smile.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Nessa nodded. “Yes, I think I am. For the first time in my life, I no longer feel too small and weak to achieve my aims. I feel more in control and that nothing can stop me. It’s like growing up overnight, and yes, I am loving every minute.”

“Well, I’m not!”

“I can see that, mother dear. But, until you get in touch with your nutty professor, we are stuck.”

“Oh, God, I’d forgotten.”

Sy dashed out and went to the study. Nessa heard the boy going through the drawers and filing cabinets. She finished her coffee and walked through to see if she could help.

Sy was coming out, a grin of triumph on his face and he was clutching a small piece of paper.

Nessa took it from him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You can hardly call him, it’s not as if he knows you, it’s me who should call.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose so. I hadn’t thought.”

Nessa smiled. “Look, forget who I was. The problem with grown ups is they forget they were ever children. I’m not a child any more, see!” she said, holding up her arms and showing off her adult figure. “Start treating me as you see me, and we’ll get on better.”

Nessa walked to the phone, picked up the receiver and left Sy staring after her.

The real Vanessa was feeling very confused. Being trapped in her son’s body was bad enough, but feeling so inadequate, inferior and insecure was new to her. The situation was exasperated by the confidence, maturity and naturally adult behaviour of Nessa, so it was all too easy to forget that inside that sophisticated shell was a thirteen year-old boy.

“Hello, Professor Burton? You may not remember me, but I was at Exeter some time ago. My name is Vanessa Williamson now. I used to be Vanessa Strickland.”

“No I didn’t think you would. I have come across a very unusual case and I’d value your opinion. It involves the transference of mental intelligence from one form to another.”

“No, I assure you, this isn’t a prank. It is quite personal and very upsetting.”

“I can’t say on the phone, but I would very much like to meet you and hopefully you could shed some light on a very unusual and difficult situation.”

“Just me and my son.”

“Thirteen.”

“Next Wednesday, at noon. Fine, we’ll meet you there at the university. Where do I come?”

She juggled the phone and grabbed a pen and paper, scribbling down some directions and other details.

“Thanks professor, I’m looking forward to it. Goodbye.”

She put the phone down and smiled.

“You heard, Wednesday, okay?”

“He didn’t believe you?”

“Would you?”

“I suppose not. But why did he agree to meet us?”

“Curiosity, he just would hate to miss out if it turns out to be real.”

Sy stared at Nessa. “You have grown up, haven’t you?”

Nessa smiled. “You’d better believe it, and you’re going to have to teach me to drive.”

“What?”

“There’s a hire car coming, and I am going to have to learn how to drive it to Exeter.”

“You can’t!”

“You can’t, you’re only thirteen. I’m the one with a driver’s licence, so lump it, mother dear.”

“Simon, this is too far!”

“My name is Nessa. Don’t you ever call me Simon again, do you hear?”

The tone of voice was so hard, so cold and so forthright, that Sy stopped dead.

“Now listen here….

“No, you listen. We’re not as we were. You had your chance, and for whatever reason, it’s my turn to be you. Ten hours, ten days, ten weeks or ten years, I’m taking this seriously and I sure as hell am not fucking about. As far as the world is concerned, I am Vanessa Williamson. I’m thirty-five and I’m a woman. I am not Simon any more, I am not thirteen and I sure as hell will not be told what to do. Now, either we agree to get along as partners, or I flex my stronger muscles and start getting nasty. Which is it to be?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Nessa looked at the boy who used to be him, just twenty-four hours before.

“Try calling my bluff. I’ve nothing to lose,” she said.

The boy suddenly had tears come to his eyes, and Nessa felt awful.

“Oh come here. I’m sorry, but I had a point to make.”

They had a cuddle and agreed to be partners. Sy had another problem. He actually quite liked the fact that Nessa was taking control. It was a relief to just sit back and to be told what to do. He said so.

“I know that. You made your wish and I know it was from the heart.”

The doorbell interrupted them and Nessa went to answer it.

A plump young man was standing there and a brand new VW Golf was sitting on the drive. A Ford Mondeo was further down with someone waiting behind the steering wheel.

“Mrs Williamson?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve a car for you, madam. Your insurers have ordered it. If you could sign here, please,” he said, passing her a clipboard with documents attached and a big ‘X’ denoting where she should sign.

“Do you have your licence?” he asked. Nessa invited him into the hall while she found it in her handbag.

She handed it over and he noted down some details.

“Are you familiar with the Golf?”

“Not really, could you show me?”

They went over to the car, and he used the remote to show her how to lock and unlock it. She sat behind the wheel while he told her what everything did. He was just a little behind her, so couldn’t see the childish grin fixed on her face.

“I think I’ve got that, thanks.”

“Would you like to take it for a drive with me, just in case?” he asked.

“No, that won’t be necessary, but thanks for the thought.”

The man said goodbye and got into the waiting Ford. Nessa watched them drive away, and then ran in and shouted for Sy.

“Come on, we’re going driving!”

Sy was not enthusiastic, but sat in the passenger seat and put on his seat belt.

“Okay, this time you bloody well do as you’re told!” he said, and Nessa grinned.

Two very fraught hours later, they returned, fortunately without a mark on the silver hire-car.

Sy looked pale and frazzled, while Nessa still had a huge grin on her face.

“That was brilliant; I even got up to a hundred on the dual-carriageway,” she said, almost breathless with excitement.

“If you can’t drive slower, I am not getting into that car ever again!”

“I will, I promise. God, that was brilliant!”

“Was it?”

“Well, I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“You were awful. But as it was the first time, I suppose you could have been a heck of a lot worse.”

“I already knew how to change gears. I drove Roz’s old Land Rover on the farm.”

“When?”

“Last summer.”

“You never told me.”

“You’d have made a fuss. I never went on the roads though.”

Sy smiled weakly, shaking his head. It was nice that occasionally the façade slipped and Nessa became her true age. It didn’t last long, for she was back in control very quickly, and Sy was happy to let her.
 

*          *          *
 
Dinner that evening was quite jolly. Stephen was uncomfortable at first, as he thought Vanessa, already strung out, would be impossible.

He was pleasantly surprised, for he found her more relaxed and more in control than he could recall. The VW Golf had arrived in a spray of gravel and Simon had entered looking quite pale. Nessa had come in laughing and Roz had not seen her so cheerful since before Richard dropped his bombshell. Alicia was pleased to see Simon, who was rather quiet and subdued, but that wasn’t unusual of late.

The girl took him up to her room before dinner.

“What was it like?” she asked.

“What was what like?”

“The accident, was it bad?”

“I don’t remember much. This big van came towards us, we skidded off the road and into a ditch. There was a bang, some sparks and then I woke up in hospital. The lorry driver had a heart attack and died.”

“Really? Did you see him?”

“No, I told you, I woke up in hospital.”

“Mummy said you got taken in a helicopter, were you awake for that?”

“No, unfortunately, but at least I’m still alive.”

“Is the car a wreck?”

“I don’t know. Mum says that a policeman told her it’s not too bad, but we won’t get it back for a week or so.”

“How long are you off school?”

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know. We have to see some people.”

“Like doctors?”

“Something like that?”

“You’re not loony are you?”

“No, just a bit mixed up,” Sy said, understating the situation dreadfully.

Roz called them down to supper, to enjoy Roz’s unusual cuisine. She wasn’t a brilliant cook, but make up for it with plenty of imagination. It had started out as a steak and kidney pie, but she forgot the kidneys, but had some venison left over. Therefore, it became a steak and venison pie, except she underestimated on the pastry, and instead made a steak and venison casserole with cheese pastry twists with some dumplings.

There was plenty to go round, and it was actually very good. Alicia was at the same school that her mother taught at, and Neville was off boarding at a prep school near Oxford, so it was just the five of them. Stephen noticed that Vanessa refused the wine, and was faintly surprised. He actually had thought she’d become a bit of a secret drinker of late, drowning her sorrows in wine and brandy.

“Not drinking Vanessa?” he asked.

“No. I think it can become too much of a crutch,” she said, staring pointedly at her son.

Sy looked away. He though he’d managed to hide the secret well, obviously not well enough. Nessa was relaxed and seemed in a very good mood. Roz was quite surprised at the profound change that had occurred in her friend over a couple of days. She remarked on it.

“Shit, Roz, the accident was the final straw. I realised that I wasn’t dead and the bastard had tried everything to ruin my life. Even a thirty-ton truck and an electric shock couldn’t finish me off. I thought, what the hell? Why not just look forward and make the best of things? I’m going to nail that bastard, but on my terms and in my time,” Nessa said.

They left at ten, Nessa saying she wanted to get Simon to bed, and Roz watched as the Golf tore off down the road.

“She’s changed,” she said to her husband.

“There was room for it. She was almost suicidal, you know?”

“That’s what I mean. It’s almost as if she’s someone completely different. I worry about her, all alone like that.”

“She’s an attractive woman, so she won’t be alone for long.”

“Do you think so?”

“Roz, Vanessa is one of the most attractive women we know. I’m sure she will find someone relatively quickly,” he said, as they went back inside.

“It’s never easy as a single mother with a rough divorce behind her.”

“Maybe, but she’s bright and intelligent, so she’ll bounce back. I think we’re seeing her do just that. Simon was quiet though,” Stephen remarked.

“He always is. Alicia, how did you find Simon?” Roz asked her daughter.

“He’s okay. I think he’s worried about his mum, and he hates his dad.”

“God, it’s such a mess. I hope they get themselves sorted out.”
 

*          *          *
 
How long have you known?” Sy asked, as he shut his eyes when Nessa took the last bend on two wheels.

“About what, the drinking?”

“Yes.”

“Early on, in the spring, I think.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Why should I? It sent you to sleep and took away your problems for a while.”

“So much for being a child,” he said, and Nessa laughed.

“I’m not any more, remember?”

“No, you’re not, but this is so hard for me.”

Nessa swung the car through the gates and came to a halt inches away from the garage doors.

“I’ve got the hang of this driving lark,” she said, with a grin. “It’s fun.”

“Not for me,” Simon said, gratefully getting out of the car.

They went in and Nessa locked the door behind them.

“I’m going for a bath, aren’t you tired?” she asked, making for the stairs.

“Very, it’s been a very long and strange day. I hope to hell we wake up back to normal.”

“I don’t,” said Nessa with a smile.

“Where are we going to sleep? I can’t have your room.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I can’t, that’s all.”

Nessa looked at him and started to laugh.

“If you could hear yourself. That sounded remarkably like a thirteen year old to me.”

Sy smiled in spite of himself.

“Look, I don’t care where I sleep. I’m not Simon any more. If you want your old bed, fine. I’ll take the spare double. But I’m bagging the big bath whatever you say.”

Nessa went up to the spare room and undressed. She stood naked and admired herself in the full-length mirror. She saw Sy staring from the open door.

“Well, what’s it look like from the outside?” she asked.

Sy shook his head. “Weird, totally unreal and so strange.”

Nessa smiled. “I need a sexy nightie, so be a love and get one for me from your room.” She turned and walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

Sy stood looking at the door. Slowly he shook his head, walked across the landing and into the room that he had occupied for the last fifteen years as Vanessa. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and it caught him unawares. He looked around the room and was quite struck with the memories.

This was a lady’s room, not a teenage boy’s. He made a decision, and went back across the landing and into the bathroom. Nessa was lying back in the bath, surrounded by bubbles.

“Hi,” she said, with a smile.

“Take my old room. You need it more than me. I’ll take your room.”

“Are you sure?” Nessa asked, frowning.

“No, I’m not sure of anything. But, look at me! I’m not who I should be and I’m not who I was. I don’t think I can take the memories in that room any more. In any case, you’ll need the clothes more than I will.”

“What if we wake up back to normal?” Nessa asked.

“That’s likely,” Sy said, his tone flat and resigned.

“We could.”

“Nessa, how could we? The conditions that changed us in the first place aren’t exactly likely, are they?”

“I suppose.”

“Besides, you don’t want to change back, do you?”

Nessa smiled, feeling a little guilty. “Not really, but if it happens, it happens. How about you?”

Sy sighed, sat on the stool, and looked at the amazingly well adjusted young woman wearing the body he should be in.

“I was about as low as one could get. Life was so hard I’d reached the stage that I didn’t want to get up in the morning, and I’d considered ending it all several times. I desperately wanted someone or something to happen to take the burden from me, so in a way, you were right, I might have willed this whole thing. It doesn’t alter the fact that I’m not happy being you.”

“Why not? Once we get you back to school, you can have a ball. The only thing you need worry about is getting turned on by the strapping eighteen year olds in the shower room.”

“Nessa! That’s disgusting,” Sy said, shocked.

“Only if you let it be. I’m a woman; I find that everything is different. Stephen flirted with me this evening when Roz was out of the room, not seriously, but I liked the attention. I’m not the same as I was, so neither need you be. Go with the flow, who knows, maybe you could get a thing going with Alicia.”

“Nessa!”

Nessa chuckled and slipped under the surface of the water, disappearing from view completely.

Sy smiled slightly and waited for her to come up again.

When she did, he threw a cup of cold water over her, and Nessa retaliated by throwing a wet sponge right into his face. Both ended up laughing and Simon was soaked.

Nessa got out and told the boy to strip off and have a bath. She wrapped a towel around her, finding it odd wrapping it over the top of her breasts, then drying her hair with a second towel. She went into the master bedroom and searched through the drawers for a suitable nightdress.

“This is so strange,” Sy said from the bath.

Nessa went in and looked down at him. He was examining his genitals.

“What is?” she asked.

“These are; it’s so odd having them just hanging there.”

“Wait till you get a stiffy, that’ll give you something to moan about,” she said and went to the basin, where, using her old toothbrush, she cleaned her teeth.

“It’s funny, but you remind me of my own mother,” Sy said. Nessa chuckled and turned round.

“Why?” she asked, with a mouth full of toothpaste.

“I’m not sure, but you exude the same feeling of confidence and security. It’s odd, but I feel safe with you around.”

“I’ll remind you of that when we swap back,” the girl said, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing out her mouth.

“What’s rugger really like?”

Nessa smiled. “I enjoyed it at prep school, but that’s because I was one of the biggest on the field. I was fast, so once I got the ball, I would run and try not to get caught. You’ll love it, all those hunky boys trying to grab you.”

“Nessa, be serious.”

“I am. You have to think like me, that way you will be okay. If you believe you’re a thirty-five year old woman, then you’re going to have serious problems.”

“That’s the hard bit.”

“Not for me. I find the body makes me believe who I am, you should try it.”

“Hmm,” said Sy, unconvinced.

“Talking of mothers, do we contact Gran, or not?” Nessa asked.

“I don’t know. I used to call her once a week on a Friday. Maybe we could ring her tomorrow.”

“Will she twig?”

“If anyone will she will, but I doubt it. I look at you, and sometimes I almost believe you’re me.”

Nessa smiled and stroked his cheek.

“Thanks, that really is a compliment.”

Sy got out of the bath and dried himself. Nessa threw him a pair of pyjamas.

“These?” he asked distastefully.

“Well, you’re not wearing a baby-doll, it would be unnatural,” said Nessa with a smile.

Sy shrugged, put on the PJs and then cleaned his teeth without a murmur.

“On the sleeping arrangements. This is a big enough bed, so why don’t we share?” Nessa suggested.

In the end, the pair shared the huge bed and Nessa was asleep very quickly. Sy lay awake staring up at the darkened ceiling, his mind in a whirl. Compared to a few nights ago, circumstances were so different, and the fact that Nessa had assumed control was a nice feeling. He hadn’t lied, he really did feel happy that someone had stepped in and taken over. He just wasn’t sure about the way in which it had happened. He slipped off to sleep, hoping that things would return to normal, but not in any real rush.
 
 
Chapter 5
 
 
The Golf came hurtling off the M5, as Nessa followed the signs for Exeter. Sy was hanging on for grim death, but was actually less terrified than he thought he would be. He smiled as he realised that Nessa was safer than Roz, and the latter had been driving for years!

He directed Nessa to the University, and they parked outside a large block, as was written on the piece of paper.

“How are we for time?” Nessa asked.

“Ten minutes early.”

“Yes! How cool is that?”

“Hello Simon,” said Sy.

Nessa blew a raspberry. “Shut up, mother dear!”

Nessa got out and Sy watched her. She was in a fawn skirt with matching roll-neck sweater and knee length boots. He smiled, as she had so much poise it was hard to believe she was not born to this. He, on the other hand, was wearing jeans and an old tee shirt, with a blue pullover over the top.

“Are you coming?” she asked, so he followed her into the building. They found the professor’s rooms on the third floor. Nessa knocked.

An elderly man with a shock of unruly white hair opened the door. He stared myopically at them. He was any age between sixty and ninety. His wrinkly skin seemed weathered and almost mummified, and his two piercing blue eyes took in the pair at his door.

“Mrs Williamson?” he asked.

“Yes, I mean, she is,” said Sy, as Nessa glared at him.

“Welcome to you both, come in, I’ll put the kettle on.”

They entered and soon were sitting amongst piled of books and papers. There was little space anywhere, as the four walls were bookshelves and all full. Every piece of tabletop was covered, and even the elderly computer had books all over it.

He gave them some weak tea in chipped and rather mucky mugs, and then the professor sat at his desk and looked at Nessa.

Nessa took a deep breath.

“Professor. You once expressed an idea that the human mind could be a truly awesome power and that given the right circumstances, transference from one person to the next, and vice versa could be possible.”

“Yes, I still think so, why do you ask?”

“Because it happened.”

The professor stared at Nessa.

“Explain please, young lady.”

“At about noon on Wednesday, Mrs Vanessa Williams was driving her car along the A40. Her thirteen year-old son was a passenger in the same car. An accident occurred, whereby the car left the road, and entered a water-filled ditch. A lorry destroyed a power line, and electricity surged through the vehicle and sparks flew everywhere. Both persons in the car were then removed by helicopter to Stoke Mandeville Hospital, both recovered fully with no bones broken and no serious injury. Indeed, we were both discharged yesterday,” Nessa said, as if reporting a news item.

“Mrs Williamson, this is very interesting, but what is your point?”

“The point, professor, is that I am Mrs Williamson, or was until yesterday,” Sy said, nodding at Nessa. “She is the person who used to be my son.”

The professor blinked a few times and stared at each of them in turn.

“I take it you can verify this?”

“We don’t have to. I was a boy and now I’m a woman. If this was a trick, wouldn’t we be trying to con loads of money out of people, instead of coming to you in the hope you can find a way to return us to how we were?” Nessa said.

“You don’t sound like a thirteen year old,” the professor said.

“How do you want me to sound? I’m a grown woman, this is my mother’s body and every moment is a learning experience. I understand that next week this body is due to menstruate, can you imagine how frightening that sounds?”

The professor turned to Sy. “You claim to be Vanessa Strickland?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Right, I did a little research, once I knew you were coming. I pulled your file. Here’s a piece of paper and a pen. Write down a potted history of your time here. Who you studied under, who your friends were, and what subjects and dissertations you submitted work on.”

Sy looked puzzled and then smiled, took the proffered pen and paper and started writing.

“So, you’re thirteen?”

“Yes, or I was.”

“And a boy?”

“Yes.”

“Who did your makeup this morning?”

“I did, why?”

“It’s very good. Did your mother help?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Where are you at school?”

“Ketterham Court, why?”

“What year are you in?”

“Third form.”

“Do you play rugby?”

“Yes.”

“What position do you play?”

“Wing three-quarter, why?”

“Left or right?”

“Right.”

“Do you take the throw-ins?”

“No, the hooker does that in our team.”

“Which team is that?”

“Junior XV.”

“When did you last play?”

“A match? About a week ago.”

“Who did you play?”

“Dr Challoner’s Grammar school.

“Did you win?”

“No we lost, 22 —18.”

“Did you score a try?”

“Yes, and I converted it.”

“Was you mother there?”

“Mum? No she wasn’t.

“Describe the play from which you scored.”

Nessa frowned.

“There was a scrum just short of their twenty-two. It was on my side of the pitch, so the three-quarters were going out to the left in a deep formation. The number eight held it in, as it was a bloody good hook against the head. We pushed and made two yards, then the blind-side wing forward picked it and went round the blind side with me in support. He sold a dummy to the opposite wing, and then met their full back, who must have gone some to get across to cover. He passed to me and I went for it. Their scrum half tried to catch me, but I went across the line and scored behind the posts. I then took the kick and converted it.”

“Instep or toe?”

“Instep, round the corner, just like Johnnie Wilkinson,” Nessa said, grinning.

“Right or left foot?”

“Right, I’m crap with the left.”

“Hmm, what’s your least favourite subject?”

“Least favourite? Geography.”

“Why?”

“I hate Mr Cross.”

“Why?”

“He’s a bully and the subject is so pointless. Why do I want to know about sheep in New Zealand and emissions in the Russian Federation?”

“What is your favourite subject?”

“History, or maths.”

“Why?”

Nessa shrugged. “I like the masters and maths is easy.”

“Have you done logarithms?”

“We’re looking at them at the moment, why?”

“Solve this,” he said, and passed Nessa a logarithm table book, and a problem written on a piece of paper.

Nessa used the book and solved it is less than a minute.

The professor looked at her and smiled.

They both looked at Sy, who was still scribbling.

“Mrs Williamson, you may stop now,” the professor said, his voice kindly and sympathetic.

Sy looked up. “Why?”

“I spoke to Marcus Fenchurch, your tutor when you were here. He remembered you with some fondness. You were the secretary of a theatrical club he ran, and he told me that you were completely un-sports minded and useless at sums. This young woman is neither of those. I’m convinced.”

Sy frowned and passed what he’d done over to the professor, who looked at it and smiled.

“Now, isn’t this fun?” he said with a huge smile.
 

*          *          *
 
He went over their accounts in minute detail, particularly interested in two points. The first was the physical combination of electricity and the situation of the car. The second was their respective mental states. Vanessa at the end of her tether, and wishing to ‘stop the world and get off’ and Simon desperate to be adult to take care of his mother, sorting out his errant father in the process.

He spent some time listening and observing his two guests, in particular noting how well adapted Nessa was to her new circumstances. Sy was less so, but nevertheless, seemed almost content with the current status quo.

“If I could change you back, right now, would you agree to it?” he asked.

“No,” said Nessa.

“Yes, I think so,” said Sy.

They all looked at each other.

“No?” the professor said, looking at Nessa who blushed delightfully.

“I’ve things to do before I go back,” she said.

“Like?”

“I have to sort out Dad.”

The professor nodded and turned to the boy.

“You only think so?”

“Yes. Initially, I would have said yes, but in a perverse way, I quite enjoy not having to make decisions all the time, but I’m not sure I want to stay as a boy.”

“And you’re happy your thirteen year-old son takes on your responsibility?”

“Put like that, not really, but look at her, does she look or behave like my son?”

“We’re not talking about her, we’re talking about you.”

“Professor, I never asked for all this. I’ve tried to do everything right, and look where it’s got me. I just have really had enough, and I’m not strong anymore.”

The professor nodded and saw the boy was on the verge of tears.

“I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand more about what has happened. I believe if I can do that, I’m closer to discovering how to reverse the effects.”

The professor got up and went to an old volume on his sideboard. He spent some time leaving through it and returned with a page open.

“Do you know how many volts were in the cables?”

Neither did.

“Hmm, it seems I’m going to have to make some enquiries. This is going to take some time. I suggest you go get some lunch and pop back at about two.”

Nessa and Sy had little choice, and they left the eccentric old man and returned to their car.

“What do you reckon?” Nessa asked.

“He still seems a little potty to me,” replied Sy.

“He seems to believe us, that’s a plus.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Always,” said Nessa with a grin, and Sy shook his head.

“I suggest you leave the car here, I don’t think you are ready for urban driving just yet.”

They took their coats from the car and put them on prior to walking the short distance to the nearest parade of shops. They came to an Italian Restaurant.

“This’ll do,” said Nessa.

“It’s quite expensive,” observed Sy.

“We got some money from dear Daddy,” said Nessa and opened the door.

Sy was eager to find out more, but Nessa kept quiet as a tall and incredibly sexy Italian waiter came up to her.

“Signorina, you like a table, si?”

“Grazi,” said Nessa with a smile.

The man noted Sy and frowned.

“I’m sorry, signora, you look too young,” he said, and Nessa laughed.

He showed them to a table and took their drinks order as they looked at the menu.

“Flirt!” said Sy.

Nessa blew him a kiss.

“What’s this about the money?”

“Trevor called to say that he’s found some of Dad’s share certificates. He’s going to encash them in light of the court order, and give us the proceeds.”

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday, when you were having a shower.”

“And you just forgot to tell me?”

“Yes, as it happens. I did.”

“How much?”

“Not sure, ten to twenty thousand. It depends on the market.”

“That’ll pay some of the mortgage.”

“No, we get that from Dad. If he finds out we’ve the capital to pay it off, he’ll renege again.”

“So what do we do?”

“I’ve put ten grand in the name of Simon for educational purposes, the rest comes to me, or you, or whoever is in this body,” she said, grinning.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” said Nessa watching the waiter as he brought their drinks.

Sy watched the young woman, who used to be her son, flirt outrageously and very naturally with the young Italian. They ordered their meal, and Sy noted the waiter was particularly attentive to Nessa, who played up to it shamelessly.

It was a pleasant meal and Nessa was only too conscious that the men eating their business lunches were all well aware of her presence and she played them like salmon. Sy tried to see anything of the male teen in his companion and failed completely. He sighed and resigned himself to being that male teen.

Nessa paid and tipped the waiter at least fifteen percent. The man helped her on with her coat and Sy thought he was rather too tactile. He kissed her hand and opened the door for them to exit. It was the first time he’d done that for a customer all day.

“God, being a woman is wonderful!” said Nessa, as they walked back to the car and the professor.

“Not always,” said Sy.

“I accept that, but men are like putty if you play them right.”

Sy looked at her. “Hark at the expert,” he said sarcastically, and Nessa annoyed him by simply laughing.

“Seriously, have you any idea of the trouble you’d get in if you end up going to bed with one?”

Nessa stopped laughing.

“Why, aren’t you on the pill anymore?”

“Simon, that is the limit!”

“Now, now, mummy, don’t get your Y fronts in a twist. I’m teasing.”

Sy was cross now, and Nessa sensed she’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry, but I have to admit it has crossed my mind,” she said.

“What, having sex?”

“Why not? This body is still beautiful and if you’ve got it,”

“Don’t be disgusting.”

“I’m not. I’m just a woman and I have needs,” Nessa said somewhat petulantly.

“And I never did, is that it?” Sy was very angry now.

“Not at all. You were an emotional wreck and everyone knows that the female libido is dependant upon a healthy emotional life.”

Sy shook his head and went quiet.

They walked in silence, both aware of the noise of Nessa’s heels on the pavement.

“If you do, take precautions.”

“What?” asked Nessa, astounded.

“If you ever have sex, then take precautions, okay?”

Nessa was lost for words. She’d been playing a game, albeit in poor taste, and she never imagined Sy would concede.

“Of course, I would anyway, whether in here or in there. I just never got any offers in there,” she said with a grin.

Sy couldn’t help it, the girl was so bloody cheerful, and he smiled a reluctant smile.

“This isn’t a game, Nessa, no matter how much fun you seem to be having. Real life can be bloody hard.”

“I know. It’s odd, but I feel that I can take on the world and win.”

“How are the mighty fallen? I once felt like that, a long time ago now. When you’re lying on the canvas, it’s very different view.”

“I realise that, and I’m sorry. It’s just for the first time I feel I’ve had the means and power to actually make a difference. I’m not belittling what you’ve done or what you’ve been through, but it’s as you said, it’s your chance to step back and let someone else carry the can for a while. I don’t know everything by any means, but with your help, I think we can get through this and make that bastard pay.”

They walked in silence for a while.

“Did he leave anything in the safe?” Nessa asked.

“What safe?”

“The one under the stairs.”

“I don’t know, he never told me the combination.”

“Why not?”

“He said if we were burgled, I couldn’t tell.”

“That’s silly, they wouldn’t believe you and hurt you anyway,” said Nessa, shocked at her father’s casual and rather ruthless approach.

“Well, why don’t you get a locksmith and do it the hard way?” Sy suggested.

“Yeah, maybe.”

They arrived back at the Professor’s rooms and had to wait a while for him to answer the door.

When he finally let them in, he seemed excited and flustered.

“Good, good, you’re back. Now, I have an idea, and I think I was right. I believe that the electricity didn’t touch you, for that would have probably have killed you both, but it created an amplifier.”

“An amplifier?” asked Nessa, confused.

“Yes, no, a sort of amplifier…you see, the brain works through electrical impulses, well, the peculiar nature of the power surge and arc could have amplified your respective brain patterns and enabled your subconscious wishes, for want of a better word, into becoming reality. In short, you were both wishing the same thing, at the same time, when an unusual phenomenon took place, thereby ensuring those wishes being granted.”

Nessa and Sy looked at the professor with expressions of simple disbelief.

“It sounds silly, but actually there is a precedent.”

“There is?”

“In Arkansas, in 1972, Wilbur Gillies and his hound, Randy, were out in a storm. Lightening struck, and the man was killed. The dog displayed very human attributes until it’s death some two years later. Wilbur’s widow, Joanne, was convinced that the dog was haunted by her dead husband.”

“That is a precedent?” said Sy, and Nessa smiled.

“Ah, you have to look carefully. There was electricity, and the dog probably thought of his master as the next thing to God, and vice versa. Anyway, I’m convinced, all I have to do is work out how to replicate the original situation.”

“Um, one minor problem, professor,” said Nessa.

“Problem? What?”

“You said both have to want to go through the transfer?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“I don’t actually want to quite yet.”

The professor stared at her. “What?”

“As is told you, I’ve things to do. I’m sure I’ll want to eventually, but not yet. If that’s okay with you.”

The professor shook his head and looked quite surprised.

“You like being a woman?” he asked, incredulity seeping into his voice.

“Yes, actually I do. I haven’t been one for very long, but so far it’s been brilliant.”

“Good God, how peculiar!” the professor said, scratching his head.

“Sorry, and all that,” said Nessa, feeling guilty.

“No, it’s better that you told me. If you hadn’t, it wouldn’t have worked and I wouldn’t know why. I can’t set things up for a while, in any case. I need to do some research and experimentation first. Why don’t you come back in a month?”

“A month? You have to be joking, I can’t stay like this for a whole month!” said Sy.

“Um, can you make that three or four months?” said Nessa with a guilty look at Sy.

“Oh dear, you do have some problems, don’t you?” said the professor, not without some dry humour.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Weird Wednesday by Tanya Allan   Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply. On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it? Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all. No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered... but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 6
 
 
Richard Williamson noted the plane had finally stopped moving after an age of taxiing around the taxiways at Heathrow Airport. It took a while for them to attach the gantry to the front of the Air New Zealand Boeing 747, and there was a bustle as the passengers started gathering their bits together in anticipation. He waited for the other passengers to leave before standing up and moving into the aisle. It was raining at Heathrow and he felt very strange to be back.

He was in no rush, he wanted to make the minimum fuss as possible and then fly back out again as soon as his business was completed. He was a tall man, and with his long greying hair, bushy beard, scruffy denims and old duffle coat, he looked very different to the suave businessman who had left these shores several months previously.

He was travelling on a New Zealand passport under the name of Samuel Jeffreys. It was a genuine passport, except the photograph wasn’t the original. He knew he was taking a risk, but he had left some assets in the UK that only he could realise. The first was a racehorse, called Mr Wobbley, which he’d had kept very quiet to avoid the dreaded taxman and the divorce settlement. It was a three-times winner, and runner up in eight other races so was worth several thousand pounds.

The second was a property deal he’d undertaken with a dubious character called Fast Eddie McDonagh, from London’s East End, as a partner. He’d ‘assisted’ the man purchase a large part of the Dockland’s developments, by running crooked cash through his small limited company he’d set up as a consultancy firm. He’d helped Fast Eddie become a legitimate businessman and as a result was owed five hundred thousand pounds for his part in a multi-million pound deal. Unable to collect this money prior to his hasty retreat a year ago, he now desperately needed the capital in order to establish a comfortable standard of living.

None of these activities was strictly legal and certainly, he couldn’t let his ex-wife or the Inland Revenue in on his secrets. The Serious Fraud Office would probably like to invite him for a lengthy chat too, if they all but knew. His one problem would be to get back into the house as he’d left so quickly he’d forgotten some very important papers. These papers were the levers with which he could persuade Eddie to part with the cash.

Richard made his way down the long corridors of Terminal Three to the immigration desks. He lined up with other non-EC passengers, and waited his turn. He was interested to note that over half the immigration officers were non-white, mainly from the Indian sub-continent. When he reached the front of the queue, nervously he presented his passport to a bored looking Indian girl wearing a sari. The woman ran his passport under the UV lamp.

“What’s your reason for coming to the UK?” she asked.

“Visiting relatives,” he said, with a New Zealand twang.

“How long do you propose staying?”

“Three weeks at most.”

“Do you have a return ticket?”

Saying nothing, he simply showed it to her.

Nodding, she stamped the passport and handed it back, already looking at the next customer. Richard breathed a sigh of relief and walked down the escalator into the baggage hall. He noted the half dozen Customs Officers eyeing up their potential customers, so he rapidly exited through the ‘Nothing to Declare’ channel.

He had no luggage, only his holdall that he’d taken onto the plane, so he wandered over to the central bust station to find the bus for Cambridge. As he sat on the bus, he reflected on his predicament.

He had been a little reluctant to leave Vanessa and young Simon, but he found himself in a job that was disappearing from under his feet, as he got wind of the fact his days were numbered due to ‘financial restructuring and downsizing’. He also had felt trapped in a relationship that was going nowhere. Vanessa was an attractive woman, but latterly she hadn’t been interested in sex as much as he’d have liked. Her attention was cast in other directions, so he felt largely useless at home as well, particularly as his son was away at school for most of the year. Even when Simon was at home, their relationship was somewhat strained and the lad had become almost a stranger. The boy was very close to Vanessa, which irked him emmensely.

Susannah was completely different. Not as well brought up, but she was bags of fun, totally dependant upon him and very highly sexed.

At twenty-eight, she was seven years younger than Vanessa, and nine years younger than Richard. Her father, Gerry McCallum was a self-made millionaire in the property business, and Richard saw a way of improving his circumstances. However, Gerry hadn’t liked Richard from the outset, tying up his money so Richard couldn’t get his hands on it. Susannah was delighted to leave Britain, so together they managed to get enough money to buy a small hotel at the north of North Island, near Dargaville.

He hadn’t counted on Vanessa flying out to New Zealand, acquiring the services of an excellent private detective and solicitor, and taking him to court for breach of matrimonial agreements in the UK. The judge ordered his assets seized, and the couple found themselves with a roof over their heads, a huge mortgage and no capital at all.

Richard became quickly disillusioned with the hotel. It was far too much like working for a living, and although Susannah worked hard, the profit margin was slender at best, so Richard decided to return to England and call in his chips. Susannah had baby Gail to look after, so that impacted on the share of workload.

He watched the grey November England pass by the bus. He had many regrets. The New Zealand life wasn’t as wonderful as he had hoped. Vanessa had been more tenacious than he had expected, and had really fought hard. He felt guilty about leaving, but now that guilt was replaced by frustration that she had managed to bugger his carefully laid plans.

He didn’t blame her, but rather naively perhaps, he felt she should have just been able to get on with life and leave him alone. He missed Simon, and hoped that he might have a chance to see him before he returned to New Zealand. He knew he was running a risk, but he wanted to convince his son that he wasn’t all bad.

He was astute enough to realise that Vanessa’s hopelessly twisted perception of events had probably affected Simon. He should also have realised that the events affected Simon in his own right, but Richard was a little blind to the impact his actions had really had on the family he’d abandoned.

The Hemmings’ Stables and Stud was some fifteen miles east of Cambridge, so it was quite late by the time he finally arrived. He’d hired the car in Cambridge, as the police were less likely to check after the event.

The house and main outhouses were all white, and the white picket fences made it look attractive, even in the November dusk. He drove up the drive, and parked by the main front door. He got out of the car and rang the doorbell.

A woman came to the door, putting on the outside light. Richard screwed up his eyes in the glare.

“Yes, can I help you?” she asked.

“Hello Glenda, is Rob in?”

The woman frowned, and peered at the strange man with a beard. Glenda Hemmings was a plump woman approaching fifty, dressed in the uniform of stable owners everywhere - worn trousers and green quilted body warmer. The man’s voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

“It’s Richard, Richard Williamson, remember? I own Mr Wobbley,” he told her.

“My God! Richard, I didn’t recognise you, you’ve changed my dear. Come on in,” she said, opening the door for him. She had a real West County accent, so it was somewhat out of place in Cambridgeshire.

“Tell me about it,” he said, followng her into the house.

Rob Hemmings was the opposite of his wife. He was small and wiry. He was fifty-two next birthday, yet he still looked like the champion Jockey he had once been.

“Rob, look who’s here, it’s Richard,” Glenda said.

Even with the information supplied, he still didn’t recognise Richard.

“It’s the beard,” Richard said, and then Rob twigged.

“Good gracious, why the disguise?”

“Long story, but vengeful ex-wives and bailiffs to name but two.”

“Ah, so you want to sell poor old Mr Wobbley?”

“Got it in one. Any chance?”

“He’s had a bloody good season, so you should get a tidy sum. It won’t be quick, though.”

“How much and how long?”

“Six weeks, probably, and around thirty to forty grand, due to his age and current form. Even as a stud, you’d get a decent price.”

“I haven’t got six weeks.”

Rob didn’t get to where he was today by passing opportunities. He also knew that this horse more than paid his way. The proceeds of winnings had kept him at the stables and given Richard some income, but obviously not enough. Rob knew that he could make more than what he would pay for him in two seasons, as long as he kept winning.

“Look, I’ll give you twenty-five for him, but it will have to be by Friday, as I have some money due me next week.”

“You said thirty to forty?”

Rob spread his hands out.

“Look, I’m doing you a favour. For five thou, you get the sale in a week, cash and no questions asked. What do you say?”

Richard was disappointed. He had hoped to get as much as fifty thousand. However, he knew that the realities were not going to come up that high. He pretended to mull it over.

“Oh, all right, but it has to be by Friday next week!”

Rob smiled and held out his hand.

They shook.

“You’ll stay for supper, Richard?” Glenda asked.

Richard relaxed and smiled for the first time since arriving in England.

“Thanks, I’d love to.”

 

*          *          *
 
“Nessa, I can’t!”

“Don’t be such a baby, isn’t that what you used to say to me?”

“It’s been twenty-two years since I was thirteen!”

It was Monday morning and Nessa drove the hire car neatly through the gates of the school, probably faster than anyone had previously. Nessa had been driving for two weeks now, and Sy had to admit she was not as bad as she could have been. Nessa had told Sy that as Simon he had actually driven the old car on the farm quite a lot. Sy insisted she read and understand the Highway Code.

Nessa had gone out and bought a Driving Test DVD ROM, and staggered Sy by completing the mock test with one hundred percent correct.

She still drove a good deal quicker than Sy would have liked, and probably because he made a fuss. The BMW was due to be returned next week, and Sy dreaded to think what Nessa would make of the more powerful car with an automatic gearbox.

“Shit, that was close,” Sy said.

“Language, Simon!” said Nessa with a particularly sadistic grin.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s bloody hilarious from where I’m sitting,” said Nessa, as she managed to stop the car a few millimetres away from the wall.

“What do I do?”

“Just look miserable, say nothing, and grunt when pressed. I’ve been doing that for weeks.”

“But I’m supposed to know everyone’s names.”

“We’ve been through this. I’ve drawn you a picture of where everyone is sleeping and sitting in the junior common room. I’ve written their names and nicknames. I haven’t been here long enough for anyone to really get to know me yet. Just wing it, you always told me you were such a good actor.”

Sy looked miserable.

“That’s it! You have my expression down to a tee. Remember, we’ve seen a counsellor and the advice is to get stuck back into your studies and school. You’ve had a rough time, but now you’re coming out of it. We can’t keep you out indefinitely, you must realise that?”

“I do, but what if I make a complete cock-up?”

“Do what I did, throw a wobbly and blame it on the divorce and accident. Leave it to me to square away the head, and I’ll spring you so we can go see your nutty professor as and when he’s ready for us.”

“What the hell are you going to do?”

Nessa locked the car and looked at Sy.

“I’m not sure. I suppose the first thing I’ll do is see about flying to New Zealand.”

“I’ve been there and the solicitor said it might take months.”

“I wasn’t planning on seeing the solicitor.”

“Nessa, don’t be silly. You need a plan, and you have to be so careful. Richard’s a strong and crafty man.”

“I want to see where he is, look over his other woman, and generally get a lie of the land. Who knows, an opportunity might just present itself.”

They walked into the school Jacob Carter came out to meet them.

“Vanessa, I was so sad to hear about your accident. What with everything else, it seems you’ve had more than your share of bad luck.”

“Thank you, Jacob,” Nessa said, smiling at the man, as he opened his study door.

“Do come in, take a seat. I was quite surprised to receive your call. I half expected you to take Simon out for the rest of term.”

“I’ve a feeling things can only get better now. Jacob, I believe that Simon should be at school. This is an important time in his life, so we’ve seen a Professor Burton, and he’s of the opinion that Simon needs stability and routine. I’m not sure I can give it to him at home just yet, so as reluctant as he may be, I believe that he should continue with his studies and get stuck into everything else you have to offer.”

Simon looked daggers at her and she winked at him.

“I hope you’ll take his current circumstances into account, but I really feel he is better off protected from what’s going on at present,” she said.

“I agree, heartily. I think you are being very sensible. Does he have any future appointments?”

“Yes, Professor Burton was most optimistic and is actively seeking to bring the best out of Simon. We had a very promising initial session, and he suggests a few weeks getting back to normal before he starts then next series of sessions.”

“Excellent. Well, Simon, I suppose you want to run along. Your classmates are just heading for lunch. I suggest you meet them there.”

If looks could kill, Nessa would have curled up and died on the spot. She made it worse by sticking her tongue out at the unfortunate lad behind Jacob Carter’s back.

Sy had no choice other than to kiss his ‘mother’s’ cheek and leave them alone.

He shut the door behind him.

He stared at the large hall and heard the distant rumble that was young men preparing to take their luncheon. He followed the noise. Finding the large dining room, he entered and was immediately pounced on by some strange boy of roughly the same age and build.

“Sy, you silly sod, when did you get back?”

“Um, just now,” he stammered.

Another boy, of similar age, came over to him.

“Hi Sy, heard about the accident. We heard you went in a helicopter, what was it like?”

“I was unconscious, so I don’t remember. I woke up several hours later in hospital with my mum.”

“So, no serious injuries then?” asked the first boy, somewhat disappointed.

“Yeah, the electric shock swapped me and my mum’s brains. I’m really my mum, and she’s me!”

The boys laughed and dragged him into the queue for food. By the time he reached the servery, he’d found out everyone’s name and was feeling more confident about life. He was faintly surprised that Simon had such a large collection of friends and started to relax, a bit.
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa was still in the Headmaster’s study, explaining a little about the supposed counselling sessions they had ‘arranged’ for Simon.

“It’s all to do with his father deserting us, you see. The professor wants him to have some other focus on his life, as it could be so easy for the boy to be consumed with hatred and to blame himself for Richard going. It’s important he’s built up and encouraged, so I’d ask that you and your staff try to focus on the positive with him, even though he might be operating below par, so to speak.”

Jacob nodded and closely attended the young woman. He’d met Vanessa on several occasions, mainly with her husband present, while they were seeking the right school for their son. Richard had always appeared the strong driving force in the relationship, but he recognised in Vanessa a very strong personality shining through and she was most charming as well.

He responded with a smile, reassuring her that he would speak to the staff with a view to highlighting those positive aspects of Simon’s work, in an attempt to allow him space to draw out his hurt.

Nessa drove away conscious that she was now free to seek retribution. Apart from being alone in the car for the first time, she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do.

 

*          *          *
 
Gerry McCallum stood looking out over a vast area of developed Docklands. He was on the fifteenth floor of a very new tower.

A pretty redhead came over to him. He admired her exceptionally trim figure, squeezed into a very tight green dress.

“Mr McDonagh will see you now, Mr McCallum,” she said, raising one hand showing him to enter the office to his right.

“Thanks,” he said, picking up his briefcase and entering the office.

Fast Eddie watched the man come in and stood up from behind the enormous mahogany desk.

“Mr McCallum, I’m Eddie. I’ve heard a lot abaht ya,” he said, his East End accent very obvious and he made no attempt to conceal it.

“Eddie,” Gerry said, shaking the man’s hand. Gerry was a gruff Scotsman who didn’t believe in speaking unless there was a need for it.

Both men sized the other up. Each had made it the hard way - Gerry through hard work and bending the rules in places, and Eddie from bending the rules a lot and a lot of luck.

“McDonagh? I take it that’s the Irish?”

“Yeah, my granddad came over during the famine, got a job in the docks. I was born in Bow, so I’m a true Cockney.”

Gerry nodded.

“What can I do for ya?” Eddie asked.

“Word has it that you dealt with one Richard Williamson,” Gerry said.

Eddie half closed his eyes and said nothing, waiting for the Scotsman to continue.

“Let me be frank, I don’t give a shit aboot wha’ he did, or that he’s a mate of yours. He’s fucked off te the other side o’ the world wi ma wee daughter, and that has pissed me an’ her ma off greatly. She’s had oor granddaughter, an’ we haven’t yet seen her. Now, I made some enquiries wi’ a mutual friend, an’ he told me aboot yer arrangement wi’ yon bastard Williamson. I’m here te ask a favour of ye.”

“Go on, I’m listenin’.”

“Right, I know he’s been taken to the cleaners by his ex-wife, an’ I dinna ha’e any beef wi’ her. In fact, the poor lass has all my sympathies. I know she doesnae know anything aboot yer deal, so what I’m after is a wee nudge if the bugger contacts ye.”

“Why should he?”

“Because I know you owe him aboot half a mil. He’s skint and the courts in this country and New Zealand are after what little he’s got left. I figure, that if he has fuck all, then Susannah will ha’e nae alternative but te come hame and ditch the scheming bastard.”

“I’d be interested in where you got your information.”

“Aye, I’ll bet ye would. But I’ll no betray a friend. Sufficient to say, neither of us ha’e anything te fear from the other. I’m no’ a threat, I just want my daughter te come back.”

Fast Eddie saw a way of saving himself five hundred thousand and he smiled.

“I think we could help each other ’ere. Fancy a drink?”

“Aye, a wee malt would go doon a treat,” said Gerry, and the two men sat down to discuss how they could help each other, once Eddie poured them both some Scotch.

“If he comes back, do ye reckon he’ll want to see his ex?” Gerry asked.

“Nah, ’e’s more likely to want to see ’is kid. He was proud of ’im, kept telling me abaht his fucking rugger matches.”

“Does he no live wi’ his mum?”

“Do us a favour, mate, ’e’s a fucking toff. ’e sent his boy to one of them public schools, like the royals an’ that lot.”

“So, if I went te see Mrs Williamson, she’d no be reluctant te help?”

“I should think she’d bend over backwards to help, mate. She wants him hung aht to dry. The only problem I see, is that she needs cash, an’ here’s you wanting to stop ’im getting it.”

Gerry stood up and walked over to the vast window, and looked down the Thames towards Tower Bridge.

“What if you paid her a portion, say a fifth? She’d be more than happy and he’d be spitting mad.”

“Let’s not get too generous with my cash here. I’ve a vested interest to keep what’s mine for as long as I can. If I don’t need to pay anyone anything, the deal looks sweet to me, besides, she doesn’t know anything about this deal.”

Gerry nodded.

“Agreed, I’ll go speak to her, and leave you out of it. But if she’s as skint as I think, we might have to keep her sweet, and buy her cooperation.”

“You can buy what the fuck you like. In the end, if you keep him off my back, I’d be happy to pay her a hundred grand, if that saves me the half a mil!”

“Do you know where she lives?” Gerry asked, placing his empty glass on Eddie’s desk.

 

*          *          *
 
Nessa was giving herself a fashion show. She was trying on some of the clothes in Vanessa’s wardrobe that she had seen but never worn. Some of the slinky underwear was so fabulous that she couldn’t resist it, experimenting with different styles of makeup as well.

She’d been shopping that morning and had stuffed the freezer with pizza and ready cook meals. She’d kept the house tidy, aware that some semblance of order was necessary if Roz or any other of Vanessa’s friends came calling.

She was thoroughly enjoying being the woman and was now more than curious about sex. Simon hadn’t done more than have the normal teen fantasies, whereby vague, indistinct details were less important than the emotions pertaining to the curious merge of love and animalistic sex.

Nessa, on the other hand, knew what she wanted, or thought she did!

She found herself imagining large and well-built young men sweeping her off her feet and subjecting her to lengthy and very satisfying sessions of sexual activity. She masturbated frequently and on finding a vibrator in mother’s bedside drawer, decided that she wanted the real thing as soon as possible.

She was dimly aware that she had probably ruined any chance of returning to being Simon without some major traumas to deal with. Indeed, she was beginning to hope that there was no way of returning, but acknowledged that she would have to try for her mother’s sake.

She heard a car on the gravel and swore, as she was in a red basque with suspenders, stockings and a thong.

She hurriedly slipped on the dress she’d worn two days ago to take Simon back to school and was tidying up her makeup as the doorbell rang. Slipping her shoes on, she went down and opened it.

A tall, beefy looking man stood in the porch. She noted a new Jaguar parked on the drive.

“Yes?” she asked.

Gerry McCallum was surprised at her youth. For some reason, he’d imagined someone older. Richard was nearly forty and this girl didn’t look over thirty. She was also disarmingly attractive.

“Mrs Williamson?”

“Guilty, what can I do for you?” she asked with a smile that lit up her already pretty face. It made her stunningly beautiful and Gerry wondered what the hell Richard had been thinking of to leave such an attractive woman.

“My name’s Gerry McCallum, you don’t know me and I apologise for calling like this. It’s about your ex-husband.”

The smile was switched off in an instant and Gerry almost winced as her eyes took on a cold and almost dead look.

“What about him?” she asked, her tone flat and hard.

“I understand this is not the best time for you, but I believe we can help each other.”

“Why?”

“Mrs Williamson, your ex-husband has run off with my daughter and we haven’t seen her or heard from her for over a year. I want to make sure she’s alright and if possible persuade her to come home.”

Nessa opened the door.

“You’d better come in,” she said and he walked past her into the hall. He looked about him. It was an old house, built in grey stone, and yet the extensive internal renovation had modernised and created a light, open home with pale coloured wood floors and a curiously pleasant mix of antique and modern furniture.

He stood in the hall as she led him into the kitchen.

He watched her pert behind as she walked. Her walk was almost hypnotic and once again, he wondered what kind of fool this Richard was. The kitchen was ultra modern, but in an old-style setting. It was also immaculately clean. He knew enough to know he was looking at a very expensive part of the house.

“Sit down, please. Coffee, tea or something stronger?” she asked.

“A cup of tea would be fine, thanks, Mrs Williamson,” Gerry replied, sitting at the long scrubbed oak table.

“Call me Nessa, please, as Mrs Williamson sounds too bloody formal,” she told him, as she filled up the kettle and switched it on.

“So, what’s your plan?” she asked, standing with her back to the worktop and arms folded. Gerry got the impression that this was one woman he’d not want to cross.

“I believe he’ll try to come back to this country very soon.”

“Why should he? He knows that if he does, there are all kinds of court orders and stuff waiting for him.”

“There are ways to get about without using your own name. I can’t go into details, but he has a daughter now and I know money is tight for him. Susannah emailed her mother asking for money and, like a fool, she sent some without telling me. I found out by accident, so that set me thinking. Has the bugger got investments or other capital that no one knows about? The answer is, yes, he has.”

“The bastard! Do you know how much?”

“Not exactly, but I do know these are not something he can arrange from a distance. Let me be frank, some of them are not strictly legal.”

“Brilliant! Can we get him nicked?”

Gerry blinked. He’d thought about many different scenarios to force Susannah to return, and in his tunnel vision he had not even thought about setting the man up for arrest.

“I suppose we could,” he said, cautiously. He didn’t want to make an enemy of Fast Eddie, as the man had a reputation for taking extreme measures against those who betrayed him.

“Are you not interested in getting the money from him?” he asked.

“To be honest, yes. However, this house is worth a few bob, and if the worst comes to the worst, I can keep working. I’d rather see the sod behind bars, though. If that happens, I may still be able to have his assets seized.”

Nessa handed him a coffee and sat opposite him. She leaned across the table and he looked into those gorgeous eyes. She smiled.

“Let’s set the bastard up,” she said, and suddenly Gerry almost began to feel sorry for Richard Williamson - almost.

“All right, this is what I know….” He started to tell her everything, leaving out Eddie’s name.
 
 
Chapter 7
 
 
Richard returned to the Hemmings’ Stud on the appointed Friday. He’d spent the week trying to track Fast Eddie down. The old offices in Hackney were no longer there, a new development stood on the site, and no one had ever heard of the man.

He visited the Queen Eleanor pub on the London Fields, a haunt that Eddie had frequented a few years ago. The place had changed beyond all recognition. Modernised and with music almost unbearably loud, the local youth had made it their second home.

However, the small public bar was less transformed than the saloon bar, and an elderly regular imparted some information in exchange for a pint of Guinness.

“’e’s moved dahn the docklands, mate. Gorn all upmarket an’ proper, ’e ’as. A’ve ’erd tell ’e’s even gorn an’ bought ’imself a roller.”

Richard nodded. That would be Eddie’s style - a big plush office and a Rolls Royce. He smiled; Eddie was predictable, if nothing else. Richard was mildly concerned, as he knew that the Fraud Office and police would be able to spot him a mile away. Still, as long as he got that which he was owed before they swooped, he would be happy.

Richard had intended to drop in on Simon at school, but tracking Eddie had taken longer than expected. He wasn’t certain as to the best approach. By now, the headmaster would be under Vanessa’s spell and that was understandable. Therefore, he knew that any approach would have to be covert and would not be without difficulty.

Twenty five thousand pounds in fifty-pound notes looked quite a lot as Rob Hemmings counted it out across the kitchen table. Richard licked his lips. This was a serious chunk of capital, with which he could start to make a difference. It still wasn’t enough for him to really do what he wanted to.

He placed the cash into a big buff envelope and then into his rucksack.

He scribbled a bill of sale and handed it to Rob. Silently they shook hands to formalise the deal. Rob was pleased, as he knew that he was well able to get his money back through the horse.

Richard felt a little better as he drove back down the A10 towards London. Twenty five thousand wasn’t that much, but it made the journey a little worthwhile.
 

*          *          *
 
Eddie took the call in his Rolls Royce. He grunted a couple of times, and then switched the mobile off. He drove out to his house in Chigwell, and the ornate electric gates opened as the car approached.

He parked in the garage and walked into the house through the internal door. Stella, his wife was watching TV. He kissed her and then went to his study. He leafed through his diary, found a number and picked up the telephone.

“Gerry, ’e’s ’ere. An old mate of mine says he showed up at a pub I used to go to.”

“That’s interesting. Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, Despite the beard, the posh voice gave him away.”

“So, he changed appearance. I know a little lady who’ll be pleased to hear that.”

“Little lady, you mean his ex? What’s she like?”

“Put it this way, I don’t know why the bastard went off with my daughter, she’s delightful.”

“You didn’t tell her about me?”

“No, she’s bright though. She’s an idea how to set him up good and proper. If it works, you’ll keep your cash, and he’ll go away for a spell.”

“Careful Gerry, he could burn me on the way down.”

“I’m aware of that, but to be honest, without evidence, they can’t touch you!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it seems that Richard Williamson might have kept some documents in a safe at the house. If Mrs Williamson could get into it and extract them, she would have enough on you to burn you herself, but she won’t.”

“How much does she want?”

“There’s the thing, nothing. She says it was dirty money and never his in the first place. She doesn’t want to be part of it. She wants what’s rightfully hers, and says you’re not to worry.”

“I do worry, though, Gerry. I don’t like being in anyone’s hands, no matter how sexy those hands might be.”

“Trust me; I’ll get them for you.”

“I don’t trust easy, Gerry, remember that.”

“I will.”

Gerry hung up the phone and pulled out of the lay-by, heading back towards Oxfordshire.
 

*          *          *
 
Gerry was relieved when Nessa answered the door. She was wearing a tight skirt and a black silk blouse, and looked wonderful.

“Back again?” she asked with a smile.

“Your ex-husband is back in Britain,” he said.

Nessa went pale. “Are, .. are you sure?”

“As I can be, aye.”

“My God, Simon!”

“Your son?”

“Yes. I know Richard was a callous bastard, but I think he might try to contact Simon at school.”

“Will he not come here?”

“Not while I’m here. He might want to get to the safe we talked about, but I don’t think he’ll want to see me. He knows I’ll create a scene, and he wouldn’t want that.”

“You mentioned the safe. Can you get into it?”

Nessa grinned. “Probably, why?”

“I let slip to the interested party that there might be some documents that could be dangerous to him.”

“What happens if there are no documents?”

“There should be. Unless your husband hid them somewhere else, or took them when he did a bunk.”

“Will this not place me in danger to the crook?”

“Not if he gets the papers first.”

Nessa nodded went out to the hall and opened the cupboard under the stairs. She pulled the cord that removed the partition revealing a large safe secreted behind it.

A circular dial indicated it had a combination coded lock. Hitching up her skirt, she knelt down, displaying an inordinate amount of delightful leg, and tugged on the handle.

“Do you know the number?” Gerry asked, unable to take his eyes of her legs.

“No, but I can guess,” she replied, and started twiddling the dial. A few seconds later she grinned, pulled down on the handle with a satisfying clunk and opened the heavy door.

“That was easy,” Gerry said.

“It’s my, sorry, my son’s birthday; dead easy when you know how.”

There wasn’t much in the safe. Nessa was clearly disappointed, expecting gold bullion or wads of  £50 notes - just some papers and a plain brown envelope. She pulled everything out, finding a single key on the base at the back.

She placed everything on the kitchen table.

Gerry picked up the papers. One was the title deed for the house, and another was share certificate for his old company. He’d been paid off partly with shares.

The envelope looked promising, and he picked it up. He looked at Nessa.

“May I?”

She shrugged. “Look, if it’s dirty, I don’t want to know. If it isn’t, why not?”

Gerry opened the envelope and a small cassette fell out. There were papers, a signed agreement purporting to be a legitimate contract for services, signed by Eddie and Richard. The cassette was a Dictaphone cassette.

“Crafty bugger!” said Gerry.

“Why?”

“My guess is he taped the conversation with the man. This is definitely dirty, so, unless you want to see it, I’d leave it alone.”

“There’s a Dictaphone in Dad’s, .. the study,” she said, then blushed. “Sorry, force of habit. I always called him Dad around Simon.”

He nodded and followed her into the study.

She opened the top drawer of the desk and took out the small Dictaphone. She fiddled with it.

“No batteries, sorry.”

“No problem. I’ll go to the shops and get some. Where are the nearest shops?” he asked.

“The village shop is about four hundred yards away. Not far from the pub.”

He looked at his watch.

“It’s nearly one, can I buy you lunch?” he asked.

She smiled that smile, so that Gerry felt like a young man again.

“How lovely, that would be nice, thanks. Let me call Simon’s Headmaster and go powder my nose,” she said, leaving him alone in the study.

Nessa dialled the school number and was put through to Mr Carter.

“Vanessa, how are you?” he asked.

“Fine, look, I think Richard has sneaked into the country. Can you let Simon know?”

“Yes, of course. Is there a chance he’ll come here?”

“Every chance; and Simon will flip out. It’s imperative he doesn’t get to see him.”

“Have you called the police, there is an injunction still in force, isn’t there?”

“No, it ran out in September, and I didn’t bother reapplying. If he’s here illegally, he’ll have a false passport or something. I just need you to keep an eye out. How is Simon?”

“He’s improved immensely. I’m so pleased with his efforts. He had a hard time in rugger for a week, but seems back on form now. His kicking isn’t that good, but he runs like the wind, and did a very courageous tackle at the weekend. Even Mr Cross noticed a remarkable difference in attitude in his Geography set.”

Nessa grinned, and said, “That’s good. I’ll be taking him out this weekend, if that’s okay.”

“Fine, he’s playing for the Junior XV on Saturday, why don’t you come and watch?”

“Alright, I shall. Thanks.”

Nessa hung up and went down to join Gerry, who was still leafing through the documents from the envelope.

At his suggestion, she locked everything into the safe again.

A few minutes later, they entered the busy pub, the Lamb. It was one of the finest pubs around for decent food, and Gerry was pleasantly surprised at the quality and prices. A man who appreciated value for money, he enjoyed his meal, and especially enjoyed the pleasant company of a charmingly refreshing young woman.

He found it difficult to know how to treat her. One minute she appeared mature and sensible, and then she would display an almost childish degree of humour. Not the most outgoing of men, Gerry warmed to her company, and found himself telling her things about himself that he hadn’t even told his wife.

He was surprised at her appetite. For a slim and attractive woman, she ate very quickly and demolished a ploughman’s lunch as it she hadn’t eaten for a week. She also refused an alcoholic drink, which in his book was a positive feature in a woman.

“Wine goes straight to my head. I have to confess that after Richard buggered off, I drank rather too much, so I tend not to drink any booze at all these days.”

She sat in the pub, relaxed and cheerful. A few regulars recognised her and wondered whether the older man was the latest item in her life.

She observed their glances and leaned across the table.

“Don’t look now, but I think the locals are speculating whether we’re together, you know, as a couple,” she said in a whisper.

Gerry was embarrassed and a little flattered. Her delightful giggle disarmed him completely, as she seemed not to care what the locals thought.

They finished their meal, and popped into the shop on the way back. Gerry bough some AAA batteries and they walked back to the house.

“Has it been rough, the last year?” he asked her.

“Yes, pretty much. Money is so tight, I can’t pay the mortgage as Richard was supposed to, and hasn’t. I’ve had to get a job for every day living, and at least the sod paid up front for Simon’s school fees. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he had to come out and go to the state school, but we still need to live. How about you, have you had no contact with your daughter?”

“Just the one email asking for money. Nothing else, not even a photo of the baby.”

“May I know what Susannah looks like?” she asked.

Gerry was surprised by the question, and then realised how natural it must be for a woman to see the person who stole her husband. He took out his wallet and showed her a dog-eared photograph.

“This was Susannah last year. She’d been working for the company that your husband worked for, and they’d been having an affair for some time.”

Nessa looked at the face of the woman who had stolen her father.

She was quite pretty, but was more voluptuous than sleek. A large bosom and a nice smile would weaken most men, Richard amongst them.

She handed the photograph back without a word. Gerry replaced it into his wallet.

“I’m sorry, Nessa, this must be so hard.”

Nessa smiled and nodded. “Harder than you will ever know,” she said, and opened the front door.

Despite her initial feeling that she didn’t want to hear the tape, she changed her mind and sat in as Gerry replayed it.

She didn’t understand much of it, but heard two voices, one was Richard’s and the other was a harsh East-End accent. Clearly, a large amount of cash was handed over and Richard agreed to buy property through his consultancy firm on behalf of the other man. Several times, he went to great pains to say the name Eddie McDonagh and ECM Holdings.

Right at the end, she heard Richard say, “So, in twelve months, you’ll pay me five hundred thousand for this?”

“That’s right, seems too fucking easy, don’t it?” said the other man.

Gerry switched the machine off.

“Can I keep the tape?” she asked.

His eyebrows shot up.

“Insurance,” she said. “McDonagh can have the documents, but I need to have something to hold against both of them. I’m not as green as I’m cabbage looking. My life is worth bugger all if these people play for millions. I don’t want much. I want what’s due me, and I want Richard to pay. I have no quarrel with Mr McDonagh, and wouldn’t want to make an enemy out of him. If he’s as rough as he sounds, then I just want to leave him alone.”

Gerry nodded and handed the tape over.

“Keep it safe. Richard will try anything to get it. I mean, anything, as he must be getting desperate to risk coming to the UK and try this.”

“You aren’t as respectable as you make out, are you Gerry?”

“I’m clean enough, but I confess, there are skeletons in my cupboard that I’d rather remained there.”

Nessa smiled, and touched his arm.

“I’m not into opening cupboards, so keep it shut, there’s a love.”

After he’d gone, taking the documents, she remembered the key. She’d left it in the safe, so she retrieved it and turned it over in her hand. It was an odd key, not like the standard door or padlock keys with which she was familiar. There was a number, B35, stamped on one side. She guessed it was a left luggage locker key, but from where?

She pulled out her purse from her handbag and slipped the key in with her loose change.
 

*          *          *
 
“Richard, long time no see!”

“Eddie, you’re a hard man to track down,” Richard said, as he approached the Rolls Royce parked in the underground car park. It had taken him the best part of a week to trace Eddie’s office. Despite trying every trick in the book, he failed to gain admission. So he resorted to waiting and watching.

He’d at last seen Eddie in the car on the previous day, but been too late to attempt to follow, so now he knew the car, he waited and watched. Patience was rewarded and he now faced his one time partner.

“I am when it comes to the old ways. I’m legit now, so I tend to be selective as to who I associate wiv.”

“I need my money, Eddie.”

“Your money?”

“We had an agreement, remember. I got five hundred grand, and you got the five million washed through my books.”

“I don’t recall any contract.”

“You do, Eddie. I have it safe.”

Eddie took out a brown envelope and took out a piece of paper.

“You mean this?”

Richard’s heart sank. He recognised the papers from his study. That meant that they’d already been to the house. He suddenly worried about Vanessa and Simon.

“You bastard, how did….?”

Eddie took out a cigarette lighter, and the contract was suddenly no more.

“Bastard!” he said.

“Sue me,” said Eddie with a smirk.

“I have more,” Richard said, instantly regretting it.

“Oh yeah, where?”

“Safe. Look, I helped you out, and you’re doing okay. Five hundred thou isn’t much in the scheme of things. I’ll give you everything, just get me the cash, please.”

Eddie said nothing; he just stared at Richard.

“It’s Thursday, come back in one week. I’ll have the cash, but I want whatever you’ve got, alright?”

Richard knew that was cutting it fine. That left him two days to get out on his plane ticket.

“Here?”

“No, South Woodford tube station, at noon. Alone.”

Richard nodded. He didn’t like it, but he had no choice.
 
 
Chapter 8
 
 
“Bugs, have you done that essay for history yet?” asked Kipper Blake. (So named for his smelly feet.)

Sy sat in the library enjoying reading a book he hadn’t read for ages. Life had been so hectic of late that he couldn’t remember the last book he’d read. He found it so pleasant having time to be completely selfish. It really was just like stepping off the world for a time.

“Yup,” said Sy, much to Kipper’s surprise.

“Let’s have a look?”

“Nope, do your own.”

“Go on, just a peek, to give me some ideas.”

Sy relented and Kipper made a few notes.

“Thanks,” said the boy and went back to his desk.

Sy looked out of the window. It had been very strange at first, but the speed at which life hurtled, gave him little time to dwell on the strange circumstances. Within moments of arriving, he found that Sy had many friends, and a plethora of weird and wonderful nicknames.

There was Kipper, Fudge, Splodge and Pecs. The last because the boy would wake up every morning wanting to know if his pectoral muscles had developed. He would spend ages with weights in the gym, but so far to little results.

Sy found out that his nickname was ‘Bugs’, it was a shortened version of Willybugs, a name that had been landed on his first week at the school. Mr Carter had insisted on shouting the name from the touchline, and it became stuck. Sy was a little miffed with Simon for not actually telling him everything he could have done. But then, he hadn’t really told Nessa all she needed to know either.

It took him several days to feel confident around so many boys. Having gone through an ‘episode’, and had to leave briefly, there was much speculation and curiosity about what had happened. Whereas girls would have flocked round asking questions, the boys just didn’t mention anything and life just carried on as if nothing happened.

A few close friends briefly asked questions like, “How’s things?” and “Everything okay?” but Sy realised they didn’t actually require an answer. Indeed, had he tried to share his inner feelings, the questioner would have run a mile.

He knew enough, having visited the dormitory when bringing Simon the first day, to know where his bed was, and he didn’t need to be a detective to find his place in the common room. Nessa had written down a list of subjects, the master’s names, and a map of the school, so he could find his way about. However, Kipper and the others were actually reluctant to let him out of their sights in case he did something stupid, he supposed.

After being in close proximity to large, well-developed young men in the changing rooms, and not actually feeling in any way specifically aroused, he realised that this might not be so hard after all. He was fascinated to see all the different shapes and sizes, and he felt it was a unique experience of which he otherwise would have never had the pleasure.

His first game of rugby was an utter nightmare. As Simon’s parent, he’d seen various games that had appeared totally without form, rules or direction. On the pitch, he found the major handicap to a long and healthy life was the possession of a certain leather ovoid, which everyone seemed determined to ensure ended up in his hands just as all the opposing players were within easy reach of him.

Remembering the advice to just run like the wind, he found it worked. Fear is an amazing incentive, and pain equally effective as a deterrent from being sluggish. Over the next few days, young Simon Williamson attained a reputation of being the fastest thing on two legs.

He tried kicking, and found it wasn’t his forte. However, on one occasion he was the only person left to stop a particularly large forward who had broken from a maul with the ball. Shutting his eyes, he’d launched himself at the boy’s thighs and slid down, keeping the legs tucked to his side to avoid stud damage all down his stomach. The lad had fallen like a giant Redwood and the ball had bounced free. The full back had collected the ball and kicked safely to touch.

As far as those watching were concerned, Sy’s next trick would be to walk on water. The forward’s name was Leonard ‘The Lurch’ Houseman, and not many people could recall him being tackled before.

“Oi Bugs?” hissed a voice, bringing Sy back to the present.

Simon looked up. It was Andy Phillips. Known as Filly, a name he hated. Andy was one of the more quiet and sensitive boys. Not the most popular, and certainly not one of the crowd, actually Sy found him intelligent and good company.

“What?”

“Have you got a part in the junior play?”

“No, why?”

“I have.”

“Oh, what?”

“I’m the vicar that gets murdered.”

Simon smiled. “Agatha Christie?” he asked.

“No his name’s Rupert Symes.”

“No, you pillock, is it an Agatha Christie play?”

“I dunno, it’s called Blood in the Vicarage. I think Mr Griffiths wrote it specially.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

Andy sat in the seat next to Sy.

“I’m a bit worried about it. Why did I get a part? Most of the others are in the fourth form.”

“Probably because you’re bright, you have a clear voice and you are the most mature person in the third form. You have to admit, the rest are pretty immature and silly.”

Andy blinked a couple of times, and stared at Simon to see if he was teasing. Shocked that he didn’t appear to be, he smiled self-consciously.

“I wish you could be in it too,” he said.

Simon glanced over and frowned. “Why?”

“Coz I’d feel better if I knew someone else in it.”

“Why me?”

Andy shrugged. “I suppose because you’re the only person who is nice to me and doesn’t tease me all the time,” he said.

Sy felt sorry for the other boy. He had not been particularly friendly to the lad, and he sensed that the real Simon hadn’t been either. However, he was flattered that the boy was able to speak freely to him.

“I wouldn’t mind, but I suppose all the parts are taken.”

“I think there are a couple left,” said Andy.

“Girls’ parts?”

Andy grinned. “Yeah.”

“How did I know that?”

“No one in the fourth form wanted them.”

“And?”

Andy went a bit red. “I said I might find someone who would do one of them,” he admitted.

“You sod, so all this flannel was to soften me up so I’d feel sorry for you and take a girl’s part in a bloody play?”

“No, I meant what I said. I just thought you’d be brilliant in it.”

“Why me? Do I look like a girl or something?”

“No, but you are slender and you look a bit like your mum. She is really pretty.”

That stopped Sy dead.

When he got his power of speech back, he asked, “When did you see my mother?”

“Last week when she brought you back. I thought she looked really beautiful and she’s got such a wonderful laugh.”

Sy was stunned.

“Why did your dad ever leave her?”

“I, .. I wish I knew,” Sy said, vaguely.

“Anyway, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Do the play?”

“Oh, I suppose so, only if no one else will.” He was actually quite pleased. Having belonged to a dramatic club at University and always secretly dreamed of being an actor, Sy felt that it was an aspect of life he’d like to explore further.

Andy grinned. “Great, I’ll tell Mr Griffiths.”

Thus, when Sy attended his next English lesson, Mr Griffiths asked him to remain behind at the end.

“You’re coming along much better now, young man,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Your handwriting and prose are completely revamped. It’s almost as if you are a different person!”

“I think I was distracted, before, sir.”

“Probably. In any case, young Andrew Phillips tells me you wouldn’t be averse to taking on a role in the junior play?”

“I suppose not, sir.”

“He did tell you it was a female part?”

“Yes sir, he did.”

“Still interested?”

“If there’s no one else, yes sir.”

“Jolly good. If you come along after prep tonight, as all the parts filled, I’ll give you your copy of the play, and you can start learning your lines. I wrote it, did you know that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh, right, run along.”

Sy went to the first meeting of the Junior Play. It was due to be put on in the Easter Term, just before the Easter Holidays. The Senior Play was always put on at Christmas, and the summer term saw the Festival of Arts, with all the music, drams and other groups coming together in a concert and collection of works.

He was given the part of Julia Spence, the wayward daughter of Brigadier Spence, at whose house much of the play takes place. He was playing opposite Ian Jamieson, the amateur sleuth, with whom he was to have the main love interest.

Ian was fifteen, and therefore at the top end of the junior half of the school. He was captain of the Junior Colts, and a very talented rugby player. Tall, fair and already bulking out as the matured into a hefty young man, he seemed destined to become the type of boy to be made head boy and Captain of the first XV.

He came over to Sy after they had been given their copies of the play.

“I saw you play against Robsons yesterday, you did a bloody good tackle,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Sy.

“I’m glad you got the part, and not one of the other third formers.”

“Oh, why?”

“They really are very immature. If you want, we could learn our parts together in the library. How about tomorrow after prep?”

“Yeah, fine. Okay.”

“See you,” said Ian and left Sy feeling like a girl with her first date. He returned to his house with his mind in a bit of a spin. Suddenly, sex/gender roles reared its ugly head. He found it flattering that Ian was pleased he had the part and all the old instincts of Vanessa came to the fore. Ian was a hunky guy and although there was nothing the remotest sexual about Ian’s attitude and approach, Sy couldn’t help but hark back to is former life as a heterosexual female.

A slightly disturbed and confused Sy went to bed that night.

The next day brought no surprises. He managed to get through lessons without mishap and then at lunch, Andy sought him out.

“Thanks for taking the part. I never got a chance to speak to you last night. I saw Jamieson speaking to you. Was he all right?”

“Yeah, he seemed fine; we talked about rugger, why?”

“I think he doesn’t like third formers, he hasn’t even spoken to me yet,” Andy said.

“It’s like anything in this place; he’s risen above the third form and looks down on us all. If I didn’t play rugger, he wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Do you want to go through the play this evening?”

“I can’t, I’m already doing it with Ian,” Sy said, and felt himself blushing as he said it. Fortunately, Andy didn’t notice and he managed to change the subject.

The rest of the day seemed to creep past, and when he finally arrived at the library after prep, Sy was slightly breathless and felt his heart racing.

He told himself not to be stupid, managing to portray a cool, calm and collected young man by the time he walked in and found Ian in a leather armchair.

“Ah, I wondered if you’d forgotten,” Ian said.

“No, I just had to finish my French.”

“Okay, shall we just read through the whole thing first? When we come to out bits we’ll read them aloud.”

“Okay.”

They sat in adjoining chairs, initially reading silently to themselves. Then Ian broke the silence.

“I’ve come to my first bit. Can you read my mother’s part, just so I can get a feel for it?”

“Okay.”

Ian launched into his first speech and Sy read the other parts.

Then they came to Julia’s first section and Sy almost felt a physical change come over him. It was as if he became a young Vanessa, back at thirteen, pretending to be twenty something. His voice took on a new quality and he began to lose himself into the role.

They read the play through. Sy alternating parts and yet for Julia’s bits, he managed to find that certain different quality.

They did the final speech, just after unmasking the killer, sealing their love with a kiss before the final curtain.

“That wasn’t bad,” said Ian.

“It was okay. I’m sorry, I’m not used to playing a girl’s part.”

“You did well. Your voice was pretty convincing. At one point I forgot you were another boy.”

Sy blushed and felt embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

“Same time tomorrow?” asked Ian.

“Yeah, okay.”

Sy walked back to his house, confused and yet pleased with the way things were going. He knew that there was nothing sexual in this relationship, and yet underlying it there was something almost akin to an attraction. He was aware that he wasn’t to do anything that would jeopardise the original Simon’s life when they swapped back.

He read for a while, and then went up to the dormitory. He shared a dorm with three others, and found their childish banter rather a pain. But they all went to sleep quickly, and Sy lay awake with his thoughts.

Uppermost on his mind was the current situation. A few days ago, all he wanted to do was to return to his former life as a mother and thirty-something woman.

For the first time in a very long time, he woke up in the morning actually wanting to get up, and looking forward to everything the day would bring. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, and it frightened him somewhat.

Had his life as Vanessa been as miserable as all that?

Had things got so bad that life became such a tiresome drudge?

Was this really what he had secretly wanted?

Would he be that sad if he could never go back?

As he mulled over the last question, he realised that whatever the answer, he could never even contemplate it for Simon’s sake. To lose twenty-two years was something he could never repay, and therefore, he determined never even to think about the possibility of remaining as Simon forever.

He went to sleep; conscious only that for the first time in many years, the person who had once been Vanessa Williamson was actually happy again.
 
 
Chapter 9
 
 
Nessa was trying out the BMW. The VW had gone back, thankfully without a scratch. The automatic was very different, so she had to almost tie her left foot back to stop treading on the brake by mistake whenever she felt she should be using a clutch.

She was now satisfied that she could manage the big and more powerful car and returned to the house. A strange blue Peugeot was in the drive, and at first she thought it might be one of Vanessa’s other friends. It wasn’t one of Roz’s cars. She parked the car, and was getting out when a familiar figure approached her. She froze.

It was Richard.

She almost didn’t recognise him, his hair was long and going grey, and his large beard hid most of his features. He was dressed in an old pair of faded jeans and a work coat. She had to remove the picture of a smart executive dressed in a suit, as had been her last recollection of him. Her heart was thumping, and she felt the anger rise in her chest.

“What do you want?” she said, the chill in her voice startled even her.

“How did he get it?” he asked.

“You mean the document? You are a callous bastard, Richard, what kind of shit have you dumped me in now? Don’t you realise, I could have been killed for what was in that sodding safe?” She went to walk past him, and he reached out and held her left arm.

Nessa suddenly broke, swung round and punched him very hard on the left cheek with her right fist, so hard that her hand hurt.

“Get your dirty, crooked hands off me, you bastard!” she yelled, running for the front door.

Richard, stunned by the blow, but even more surprised that Vanessa had it within her to strike him, was a little slow to react. However, she fumbled with the door key and although she managed to get in, he was able to get a foot in the door as she tried to close it.

“Vanessa, let me in, please! I need to talk.”

“Go away, you had your chance and you chose to fuck off. You have nothing here and I’ll call the police if you don’t!”

He was stronger than she was, so pushed his way in. She ran to the kitchen, grabbing the phone and a knife from the drawer. He stood by the kitchen door, eyeing the knife nervously. He watched her press the nine digit three times.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll fucking use it. So either you go away, or I’ll call the police now!”

“Tell me about the safe. What happened?”

“You never told me the number and they didn’t believe me. They threatened to rape me, you bastard, I only hope you get caught!”

“How did they get in?”

“To the house or the safe?”

“Both.”

“They rang the fucking bell, how do you think?”

“The safe then?”

“It wasn’t your birthday, my birthday, or your mother’s birthday, so it had to be Simon’s.”

Richard nodded. “They took everything?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Damn!” he said, and looked suddenly very old and tired. He slumped in the doorway, sliding down and sitting on the floor. Nessa didn’t move, her thumb hovering over the dial button on the phone.

“What’s it all about?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it. You could have had fifty thousand quid, in your hand. But now the bastard has everything. I’m completely penniless, Vanessa. You can scream at me for money, but all I have is the roof over our heads. There isn’t anything left!”

“What about the mortgage and my allowance?” she asked.

He laughed, shortly and with little humour.

“Sue me!” he said, recalling Eddie saying the same thing to him.

He sat with his head in his hands, yet Nessa wasn’t giving an inch.

“How’s Simon?”

“Alive, no thanks to you,” she said.

“If it’s any good, I am sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

She snorted and said nothing.

“I suppose you’d not believe I had a breakdown?”

Nessa snorted again.

“As I look at what I’ve lost, I realise what a complete cock I’ve been. But she needs me, as does the baby.”

“And we didn’t?”

“You’re different. You’re so bloody in control and capable. Susannah is so vulnerable and would be lost without me.”

“Get out, Richard!”

“Can I just check the safe?”

“Why?”

“Just in case they left something.”

She nodded, allowing him to get up and walk into the hall, opening the cupboard.

He opened the safe and swore.

“Who opened it?”

“The bigger man. I just told him our birthdays.”

“How many were there?”

“Two, they were smartly dressed and sounded as if they came from London.”

Richard nodded.

“What was in there?”

“Our futures. Yours, Simon’s and mine. I had enough to get fifty grand apiece. That’d pay the mortgage and give Simon enough to see through university.”

Nessa almost smiled, knowing that he was supposed to be getting five hundred thousand. He was still cheating her, even when like this. How low could you get?

“Get out, Richard. I’m counting to five and then I shall call the police.”

He looked at her and, for the first time, took in how good she looked. Even in anger and fear, she was strikingly beautiful. Her eyes flashed and he suddenly felt denied emotions catch up with him. Overwhelmed by self-pity and regret, he started to weep.

She wasn’t moved.

“One, …two, ….three….”

He angrily turned, lurching out of the house, virtually running for the car. As he drove off down the drive, Nessa lowered the phone and knife. She let out a sigh of relief, looking at her hands.

She’d been dead calm all through the exchange, but now was shaking like a leaf.

She went back into the house, shutting and bolting the front door. She dialled Gerry’s mobile number. She recounted the incident, informing him that she implied that it was Eddie’s men who had come for the contents of the safe. He reminded her of the key.

“It’s probably a railway or airport left-luggage locker. Did he use any station or airport regularly?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Only he knows where it fits, if you follow him, you might get lucky.”

“What now?”

“Why not? Before the trail goes cold.”

“But he’s got several minutes start!”

“Which way did he go?”

“Towards the M40.”

“Go, girl, you have to try.”

Minutes later, she was tearing off in pursuit, the BMW eating the miles as she shot up the road. She approached the turn off to the M40. Did she take it and head to London, or did she go straight on towards Thame?

Instinctively, she swung the big car right, down onto the motorway and eased into the outside lane. Pressing her foot down, the car responded and soon she was easily doing 120 mph. Keeping a beady eye out for Thames Valley’s finest, she kept going until she was hurtling up the canyon towards junction five. There, a hundred yards ahead in the centre lane, was a small blue Peugeot that looked familiar. She eased off the accelerator, and tucked in behind another car in the middle lane, matching speed with the Peugeot and keeping several cars between them.

As they hit the wider section, after junction three, she could see that the single occupant was Richard. Letting a couple more cars slip in between them, she was content to sit and follow. Prepared to follow him into London, he surprised her by indicating and leaving at junction two. She followed and was a little perturbed to have only one car between them.

He turned left and then right onto the A40, still heading towards London. She frowned, where was he going?”

Suddenly, he turned right, without indicating and after braking suddenly. At first she thought he’d become aware of her behind him, but then it dawned on her that he wasn’t that familiar with this route. Following him down a straight minor road, with forest on either side, she let him start to get a bit further ahead. A steep and bendy bit almost caught her out but she had seen his brake lights come on and saw the Peugeot out of the corner of her eye, as it headed left down another lane.

She smiled as she saw the name of it, - Long Bottom Lane. It was a name that appealed to a thirteen year-old’s sense of humour.

She stopped smiling when she came round a corner and saw a straight length of road ahead, but no sign of the car. She accelerated up the lane, glimpsing a sign for a railway station on the left. Braking hard, she shot past the turning and had to reverse back. She drove slowly up the lane and found herself at a small station. The Peugeot was already parked in a bay. She held back, watched Richard put money into the ticket machine and then enter the station.

She parked the car as far away from the Peugeot as she could and cautiously walked up to the station. She saw him standing on the nearer platform, so she waited out of sight. She saw it was Seer Green & Jordans Station, but didn’t even know which London station the trains went into.

A London-bound train approached and she watched as it came to a halt. Richard got on the front of two coaches; she dashed onto the second coach and sat at the back in a corner.

It was a good place to sit, as she could see all the passengers as they got off at the stations en route to London. She discovered she was on the Chiltern Line bound for Marylebone Station.

She got off the train at Marylebone and saw Richard’s tall frame ahead of her in the crowd. She had to pay at the gate, and noticed him heading for the left luggage office. She went into WH Smiths, and pretended to be looking at books as she watched. He came out looking cross, heading for the office sixty yards away.

Taking a chance, she dashed into the left luggage office. With the anti-terrorist measures, all left luggage was screened and supervised. She handed the key to the attendant.

“My husband has just been in. He’d mislaid his key, poor love. I found it, can I take what’s in the locker.

“Certainly madam. One minute.”

The man disappeared and returned with a small briefcase.

Thanking him, she paid cash and cautiously left, making a dash for the train.

She managed to leap on as it pulled out of the station. Glancing back, she could only imagine Richard’s anger and confusion as he found out she’d beaten him to it!
 

*          *          *
 
Richard was frustrated, no one had been in the Station Master’s office, and so he had returned to the left luggage office to see a different young man to the previous one.

Where’s the young man who was just here?” he asked.

“Lunch, sir.”

“Look, I was in a few minutes ago, and I explained that I’ve mislaid my key. Can you open a locker for me, I do know which one it was?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not allowed to enter the lockers. I appreciate you say you’ve something of value, and yes, we do have cases of lost keys all the time, but only the supervisor can open lockers, and he’s at lunch as well.”

“When’s he due back?”

The young man looked at his watch.

“Twenty minutes, sir.”

Swearing didn’t help, but Richard had no alternative but to wait. Forty-eight minutes later, an overweight and sweaty individual appeared, smelling of beer.

Five minutes after that, having filled out a form, the locker was opened, and Richard experienced a sinking feeling. He’d been certain this had been the locker.

The younger man smiled with relief and observed the locker B 35, had recently been opened.

“Er, that was opened about fifty minutes ago, sir.”

“What?”

“Someone has taken the contents and paid within the last hour.”

“Who?” asked Richard.

“Dunno, I was at lunch.”

“When’s the other man back?”

This man looked at his watch and said, “Twenty minutes?”

Richard was almost screaming by this time and was terrified that Fast Eddie was now in possession of all the documents he’d been keeping as insurance.

It was with some surprise and alarm that it was Vanessa’s description that the young man gave when he finally returned after an hour. Who else would have been a tall, pretty woman with auburn hair and a sexy voice? Apart from that, she’d told the man she was his wife. Richard had no alternative but to wait for another train.

He went to a pay phone and tried calling Vanessa. The line was engaged. Cursing, he kept trying every five minutes until his train, but the number was permanently engaged.
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa put the phone down and waited. Half an hour later a car pulled onto the drive and she peered out. Seeing who it was, she used the remote switch that opened the garage, as agreed. The car drove in and she shut it behind them.

Two big men walked into the house.

“Mrs Williams? I’m Ted Harris; we spoke on the phone. This is my colleague Steve Jenkins.”

She shook their hands.

“The case is on the kitchen table. It’s still locked and I haven’t tried to open it.”

Ted nodded and took a pair of latex gloves from his pocket. She followed him into the Kitchen, and watched as he opened a small leather pouch. Ten minutes later, the case was open and the documents were being photographed.

Mr Jenkins was busy with another case and some strange electrical equipment.

“This is an audio harness, Mrs Williams. Wear it under your clothing, the microphone is very sensitive and will pick up any conversation within eight feet of you. The camera is in this brooch, put it to your outer clothing or coat, and it’s fine as it is. It doesn’t use wires, so there’s nothing to worry about. The operator can focus and direct the directional lens remotely; you just have to be facing roughly towards the target.”

Unselfconsciously, Nessa stripped down to her bra and let Mr Jenkins strap the harness to her torso. She then slipped her pullover back on and grinned as the brooch was attached just above her left breast. Both men glanced at each other. There were definitely perks to this job!

“It’s like James Bond,” she said, and both men smiled. The noise of a vehicle on the gravel drive caused Ted to go to the window.

Ted looked out and nodded.

“It’s them,” he said, and spoke into a small two-way radio.

Mr Jenkins was now attaching something to the inside of the phone. He then disappeared up stairs, and Ted replaced the case locked onto the table.

The phone rang. They both looked at it.

“Should I?” she asked.

“Go ahead.”

She answered it.

“What the hell are up to, Vanessa?” said Richard.

“Fifty thousand, Richard, is that all Simon and I were worth?”

“Bitch! You’ve sold me out.”

“No Richard, you sold yourself out when you buggered off. I want what’s mine.”

“No way. I’ll give you fifty and fifty for Simon.”

“Sod that. I want my allowance, the mortgage paid and enough cash for Simon’s education. Any more negotiating and I’ll go up.”

“You have to be joking, woman.”

“Ha ha ha, can you hear me laughing, Richard?”

“Where’s the case?”

“Safe.”

“You have it at home?”

“Might do.”

“Look, I need that case. Without it, you get nothing.”

“Richard, I already have nothing, so I’ve nothing to lose. Without it you have nothing and that is the whole point, isn’t it?”

“We both lose if I don’t get the case.”

“Tough.”

“Have you opened it?”

“Not yet. It’s locked.”

“Then don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Look, we’re dealing with dangerous people here. You don’t want to get mixed up with them.”

“I’m already mixed up. They didn’t find the key, but I did and followed you. If it’s worth all that to you, then why shouldn’t I do a deal with Mr McDonagh?”

Richard went quiet at the mention of Fast Eddie’s name.

“Eddie is dangerous, Vanessa, he could do serious harm.”

“What, like abandoning his wife and child, failing to pay for their home and leaving them almost destitute?”

“You’re not destitute!”

“I had to fight fucking hard to get what I did and still it’s not enough. Goodbye Richard!”

“No, wait! Look, let me deal with Eddie. Is he there?”

“Not yet.”

“Shit. Vanessa, he’ll think nothing of killing you and taking the documents.”

“So, he’s a bit more pleasant than you, then?”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Can I come round?” he asked.

“What’s the point, you’ve nothing to bargain with?”

“If we work together, we could both come away with a considerable sum.”

“Richard, this is dirty money, it’s probably been made through drug dealing and prostitution.”

“It’s money, Vanessa, nothing more, nothing less. Who the hell cares where it’s come from?”

“I do. Believe it or not, I’m not into breaking the law. You might have let the man plough his crooked money through your phoney firm to pretend he was respectable, but I’m sorry, Richard, I do have principles.”

“Stop being so fucking priggish! If you want to come out of this with the mortgage paid, and with enough money for Simon’s university fees, then you’ll do as I fucking tell you for once in your life, do you hear me?”

Richard was irate now and Nessa smiled as she simply hung up the phone.

It rang again a few seconds later and she let it ring.

Finally, Ted nodded and she answered.

“Look, Vanessa, I’m sorry. I’m at the end of my rope here, can I come round?” It was a very contrite Richard on the end of the phone.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Close. I can be there in half an hour.”

She looked at the clock. It was five o’clock now.

“Ring me back in ten minutes and don’t come round. If you come early, I’ll call the police.”

She hung up before he could reply.

“Good, now we wait,” said Ted.

“What’s the plan?”

“We need to get everything we can on McDonagh before we even think about moving against him. He’s a powerful man with tendrils in every aspect of the underworld and even into high places. The evidence has to be absolutely rock solid before we act, and I want to make sure that you are completely in the clear, as will Mr McCallum be.”

“Superintendent?” said a black clad police officer, popping his head round the kitchen door.

“Yes?”

“Inspector Jenkins says everything is in place. Ready when you are, sir.”

“Excellent. Mrs Williamson, are you ready?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good girl. When he calls, ask him round and just get him talking. Find out every detail and then we’ll take over. Any questions?”

“Just one. Will he go to prison?”

“That’s up to the court. Probably, but if he cooperates he may get off with a suspended sentence. However, Mr McDonagh may be less forgiving and your ex-husband will be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life!”

“Shame!” she said and smiled.

The Superintendent was very pleased she was one of the good guys.
 
 
Chapter 10
 
 
The headmaster sought out Simon. He found him in the library with young Ian Jamieson. Jacob was faintly surprised, but on finding them rehearsing their parts in the play, he found it most commendable that they were taking it so seriously.

“Simon. Can I have a minute, please?” he said.

In a quiet recess of the library, Jacob told Simon that his mother had called earlier and that she believed his father was in the country.

“Your mother believes he may try to see you before he goes back to New Zealand. How do you feel about that?”

Sy found his mind suddenly rushing. The pent up anger and hurt swelled up to the forefront again. It had been wonderful to push it to one side for a while. He thought about it.

“I never want to see him again!” he said and Jacob nodded.

“Fine. Try to stay with other boys or a member of staff until we get the all clear. If you see your father, then please call a member of staff and we’ll call the police.”

Sy nodded.

He went back to Ian.

“What’s up, seen a ghost?”

“My Dad has come back to Britain.”

“Shit, I thought he was gone for good.”

“So did we. It seems he’s short of money and is after getting some he’d stashed away.”

“Wicked, are the police after him?”

“Worse, my mother is,” he said and smiled.

“Your mum is way cool.”

Sy looked at the boy to see if he was teasing. He wasn’t.

“What makes you say that?”

“The other day, when you came back, we were out on lower pitch. I saw your car on the lane, man, she drives like a maniac.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s a bit loony behind the wheel.”

“What happened to the BMW?”

“Um, we were in a crash. Not Mum’s fault. A truck driver had a heart attack and Mum had to drive into the ditch to avoid being crushed. That was when we were airlifted to Hospital.”

“Really? Shit, that sounds awful; were either of you hurt?”

Sy smiled. “Not really,” he said, and realised it was the truth.

“So, if your Mum gets a hold of your dad, what will she do?”

Sy shrugged. “I really dread to think.”

The thought of what Nessa would do, really did fill him with dread, and yet he felt a degree of satisfaction knowing that Nessa wouldn’t hesitate, whereas he knew that he wasn’t as strong. He smiled as he realised that this strange state of affairs seemed to have reason after all.

“Do you want to stop?” Ian asked.

Simon looked at him. His mind cleared and he now realised that his wish had come true.

“No, I’m off the world, so let’s carry on.”

Ian frowned and shook his head. They started again, from the top.
 

*          *          *
 
Richard drove up the familiar drive with the lights off on his Peugeot. He stopped before hitting the gravel and switched off the engine. He didn’t trust Nessa one bit and he suspected she would do something bloody silly.

In an OP, a police officer was watching through a night sight.

“Single X-ray approaching on foot. Target is male, IC1, six to six two, well built, beard and longish hair, mid forties to mid fifties, he’s not carrying anything.”

“Copied, direction?”

“Towards the white aspect, X-ray is cautious, looks like he’s expecting a reception.”

“Roger. All units stay down. Wait, repeat wait.”

“X-ray stopped by garage. Attempting to lift door. Door not opening.”

“Roger.”

“X-ray moving round to Green aspect.”

“X-ray attempting entry to 1-2 on the green. Back door.”

“Copied, we see him. All units stand fast.”

“Entry not successful. X-ray moving to black aspect. Out of my view. Op One over.”

“Op Two here. Have X-ray. Looking through black 1,3. Kitchen window.”

“Roger.”

“X-ray now at black 1,4, patio doors. Access gained, repeat - access gained.”

“Roger. X-ray is in house. Stand by for the word.”

The sitting room lights going on suddenly dazzled Richard.

“I might have known you’d be early,” Nessa said, standing by the door.

“You should lock your door.”

“I knew you wouldn’t come in the front, so why risk a broken door?”

“No knife this time?”

She held up the phone.

“Just the phone. The nines are already to go.”

“You really hate me that much?”

“Hate is something far weaker than what I feel for you. I hate spinach, I hate really wet days and I hate it when cold ice cream hits my teeth. No Richard, I don’t hate you. I wouldn’t even know if there is a word to describe what I do feel. I think revulsion is the closest. It’s like looking at something that slithers out from under a rock and one suspects it might be toxic.”

“Well you won’t have to put up with me for much longer. Where’s the case?”

“In the kitchen,” she said, turning and walking out. He went after her and found her already in the kitchen. The case was on the worktop.

“Did you open it?”

“No.”

He nodded and produced a key. He fumbled with the left lock, but they were both open in a few seconds. He pulled back the lid and looked down with some relief.

“Thank Christ!” he said.

“I shouldn’t think he’s got anything to do with you,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Christ. Unless you are planning to confess all and give yourself up, I wouldn’t think he’s got much to do with your circumstances. The other bloke might though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What’s it feel like to contemplate blackmailing a real nasty villain, Richard?”

“Don’t go there, Vanessa. This is nothing to do with you!”

“I mean, how deep are you in?”

“Deep enough,” he said, as he examined the documents.

“How much did you put through the books?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m interested how deep the man I once loved managed to stoop.”

He laughed shortly. “Low enough. Over five million, if you must know.”

“For what, five hundred thousand?”

“Ten percent, that’s right.”

“Which he never paid you?”

“I never asked for it before this.”

“You never got a chance. So, who is Eddie McDonagh?”

“He’s an old style East End villain, Vanessa. A rough diamond who has killed and will kill again if given the provocation.” Richard was trying to scare his ex-wife now.

He closed the case.

“So, now what?” she asked.

“Now I get the cash. I’m to meet him next week, and he’ll give me what I’m owed.”

“You believe that?”

“Why shouldn’t he?”

“What about the tape?”

Richard looked at her.

“The tape?”

“You remember the tape, Richard dear?

“Where is it?”

“Safe. It’s my insurance.”

“What do you want?”

“What’s on the tape, Richard?”

“Haven’t you played it yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Then play it. I’m not playing this game any more.”

“It’s not a game. I just want what the judge said I should have. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Look, I laundered five million quid of a gangster’s money, and you’re fucking me about for a measly mortgage payment and some school fees?”

He stared in disbelief at his ex-wife, and noted her eyes flick briefly over his left shoulder. He felt a fain draught on his neck and spun round.

“Richard Williamson. I am Superintendent Edward Harris attached to the serious fraud office. I am arresting you on suspicion of offences relating to false accounting and money laundering to the value of or in excess of five million pounds. You do not have to say anything, but if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court, anything you do say will be given in evidence.”

Richard watched in stunned disbelief as uniformed and plain clothes officers appeared from virtually every part of the house. He stared at Vanessa as she took off her jumper and handed over a strange looking piece of apparatus.

“How could you?”

“Very easily, it’s called doing the right thing. But obviously you never heard of it.”

She walked straight past him and went up the stairs.

“Goodbye Richard. Enjoy prison,” she said as she turned out of sight.

“You get nothing, bitch!”

“I’m afraid that’s not quite correct, Mr Williamson. She gets a ten percent reward for any capital seized by the crown in a fraud investigation for which she was responsible for providing vital evidence. If we recover five million, then she gets five hundred thousand. If we seize twenty million, she gets two million.”

Suddenly Richard realised that doing the right thing could have been more sensible.

A uniform officer appeared from outside.

“I searched the car, sir. There’s a substantial amount of cash in this bag.”

“You see, Mr Williamson, there are advantages to cooperating with us,” said the Superintendent.

“You want me to help you nail McDonagh?” he asked, incredulously.

“Got it in one, sir.”

“You’re mad. He’ll kill me!”

“Perhaps, but then, for what you’ve done, you’re looking at eight to ten years. How old will Gail be in ten years? Who will she be calling Daddy?”

“You bastard!”

“Probably, sir, probably.”
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa watched the police remove Richard. They put him in the rear of a dark saloon car with his hands handcuffed behind his back. Another policeman drove away in his hire car. She felt a degree of satisfaction. He looked up at the window as they drove away. His face pinched, looking very old and tired.

Someone knocked on her bedroom door. It was open so she turned and saw the Superintendent.

“Thank you for what you did tonight. That took some doing,” he said.

“Not really. I’m just a bit worried what’ll happen now.”

“We’ll be leaving a team in place, just in case Mr McDonagh sees fit to send any of his men down to try to locate your husband.”

“Ex-husband, please.”

He smiled. “It won’t be for long. This time next week should see the conclusion of this little saga.”

“I hope so. It’s just another small drama in a sea of dramas in my life,” she said.

The policeman smiled and left her alone.

She picked up the phone and dialled Gerry.

“Richard’s been arrested.”

“The documents?”

“The police have them.”

“All of them?”

“Except the tape.”

“Hold onto that. Do nothing. The rest is up to your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Whatever. Did they say how long he’d get?”

“Eight to ten if he doesn’t cooperate.”

“Ideal. Sit tight, we have to trust the police to do the rest. They’ve got a week to turn him.”

“Is McDonagh a threat?”

“Not to you. Richard might have a worry or two.”

“Will you be connected?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“So, what happens now?” Nessa asked.

“Now we wait.”

“Good, I have to go see my son play rugby tomorrow, would you like to come?”

Gerry smiled at the end of the phone. He really liked this woman and he chuckled.

“I’d love to. When and where?”

“Come by the house at one.”
 

*          *          *
 
Saturdays were always nice. There were no lessons after lunch, and most boys could go home after games. Sy was looking forward to going home again. It had been a couple of weeks and he found he was missing Nessa.

They selected him to play in the Junior XV against Kingsworthy School at home. After lunch, he met up with the others in the changing room, and they made their way out to the pitch. The opposing team bus had arrived and the team was changing. Sy saw a familiar BMW glide through the school gates and park next to the main block. He was pleased to see Nessa, looking very chic in s long black coat and high boots. She was wearing a black mock fur hat in the Russian style, and she waved at him. He ran over to her.

As he arrived he saw a strange man get out of the passenger seat. He was an older man, about sixty, grey hair and wearing a suit. He was putting on an overcoat as he arrived.

Nessa gave him a hug, and he felt genuinely pleased to see her.

“How’ve you been?” she asked.

He grinned, as he could tell she was slightly worried.

“Fine. I’ve got a part in the junior play.”

Her delicate eyebrows rose.

“Oh?”

“I’m playing a girl opposite Ian Jamieson,” he said, and burst out laughing at her expression.

“Are you winding me up?” she asked.

“No, I’m playing a girl called Julie Spence and we’ll be doing the play at the end of the Easter term.”

“Sod!” she said and he laughed.

The man came over.

“Simon, this is Gerry McCallum. He’s the father of the woman your father left us for. He has no love for my darling ex-husband either. We’ve become friends over the last few days, and after some excitement, I can tell you that the police arrested Richard last night.”

They walked towards the pitch and Nessa told him a brief outline of what happened.

The opposing team ran onto the pitch, so Sy had to go and warm up.

“He’s a fine lad, you must be very proud of him?”

Nessa smiled as she watched the boy join his team mates.

“More proud than you could ever know,” she said.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Weird Wednesday by Tanya Allan   Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply. On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it? Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all. No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered... but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 11
 
 
Eddie McDonagh was not a happy man. The fact that Richard claimed to have more documents linking him with previous dubious dealings and the laundering of money worried him greatly. It was the one loose end he had to tie up to sever himself from his criminal past. All his interests were now legitimate, albeit built on money gained through his previous trade or calling as a drug dealer and gangster. The protection racket was very lucrative, but he and Stella wanted some respectability in their life these days.

As Nessa watched Sy play Rugby, Eddie’s two ‘associates’ or ‘consultants’ sat in the easy chairs in his office as the man looked out over the Thames. He rarely visited his office on a Saturday, but this was different.

Len Hawes was a small man, but no one ever crossed him. He had a reputation of being completely without any scruples whatsoever. Pay him enough, and he’d dismember his own granny, had she been still alive.

The other man, Reginald Finney, was pure muscle reaching six foot six and over two hundred pounds. There was very little between his ears, which made him exceptionally at doing whatever he was told. He’d been teased at school — once. After he discovered that a single punch stops teasing, he found that physical violence is always the answer, regardless of the question.

“I want those documents, understand, Len?”

“Yeah, Eddie, I understand.”

“I don’t want Mr fucking Williamson to ever be a threat to me and my business again, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Just do it, I don’t care how, just get it done!”

“How much?” Len asked.

“One.”

Len nodded. A hundred thousand was a tidy sum. Eddie must want this man badly.

The two men left and rode down the lift to the street level in silence.

“Lenny?” The big man broke the silence.

“What?”

“What we gonna do?”

“Don’t worry, about that, lets find the fucker first.”

They went to a black Lexus saloon. Reg opened it, sliding behind the wheel. Appearing lumbering and somewhat reminiscent to a diplodocus on his feet, behind a steering wheel, Reg came into his own.

“Where do we start?”

“His ex-missus lives at a place called Little Milton in Oxfordshire. Know it?”

“Nope, you got the map?”

Len dug out the map, and the car took off down the street.
 

*          *          *
 
The game was a hard one, the teams evenly matched. Sy managed to score a try in the latter part of the first half, and they broke at half time at 8 — 8.

Nessa was surprised and thrilled at how well Sy had taken to the game, and was in high spirits. Jacob Carter saw her on the touchline and sauntered over to where she was standing.

He shook hands with the gruff Scotsman, and chatted amiably with her about Simon’s recent improvements in both the scholastic and sporting field.

“His kicking is off form, but he’s running so much faster,” he said, and Nessa laughed.

“Good, he’s probably so terrified of being tackled,” she replied.

“I have to confess to being thoroughly satisfied with how well he’s settled down after your visit to this Professor chappie. Whatever you did, has worked wonders, he’s like a whole new boy!”

Nessa’s eyes lit up and she smiled.

“Oh, thanks, Jacob. You have no idea how wonderful that makes me feel.”

The second half started, and the players seemed to notch up a gear. It was very exciting and Nessa screamed herself hoarse for her son and the school team.

There were a few parents politely clapping and giving the occasional cheer, but Nessa was positively demented with her support.

“Your mum’s a bit loud, isn’t she?” one boy asked Sy.

Sy grinned. “At least she’s here and supporting us,” he said.

“Yeah, my parents can’t be bothered,” said the boy as they parted to a set scrum.

As he waited for the scrum to settle down, Sy looked over to Nessa. She was looking wonderful. Her makeup was perfect and her clothes, from what he could see, were elegant and appropriate. She was laughing and smiling with the Head and the old Scotsman.

Every nuance and mannerism was so exquisitely feminine and right, Sy realised that changing back might be a lot harder than either of them expected.

The game continued and the enemy pressed the team back inside their twenty-two.

The ball was hacked from a loose maul and it bounced awkwardly towards Sy. He grabbed at it and managed to grasp the wet and slithery item without fumbling. Suddenly, the entire might of the opposing team was bearing down on him and he felt real fear.

Fear gave him wings. He tucked the ball under his right arm and took off up the pitch, dodging and jinking as he went. The slow forwards were easy to avoid and he developed a tunnel vision. All he could see was the opposing goalposts. He held his breath and just tried to pump his legs as fast as he could.

An opponent managed to just connect with one foot and he stumbled, correcting himself and recovering to change direction to avoid his opposing winger.

Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw their full back tearing across on intercept mode.

At the last minute, he stopped and bluffed, carrying on again on his original line. The fullback stopped and was too late to catch him. He raced towards the posts, launching himself at the line just as the full back managed to almost grab a leg.

The whistle blew and the try was good!

There was a manic scream of delight from the touchline and Sy grinned as he saw Nessa dancing with delight.

He ran back, collecting pats on the back from his team mates. With little time left, it looked like victory was theirs.

The captain, Mike Clarke, took the kick and converted the tray. The final whistle blew and they’d won!

As Sy basked in the brief glory he’d attained, he came to appreciate this game and the amazing feeling of achievement he now felt. This was the game that trained boys to be heroes.

He joined the others in cheering for the opponents, and collected his tracksuit top from where he’d left it. He ran over to where Nessa and the Head still stood.

“Good game, Simon. Bloody good try, that!” said the Head.

Nessa just smiled and gave him a hug. They didn’t need to say anything.

“I’ll go and change. We have to have tea with the other team,” he said.

“Good chap. Your mother will be joining us for tea in the staff dining room,” Mr Carter told the boy.

He ran off to shower and change.

Sy had just finished his shower and was dressing when Ian Jamieson came up to him. He was still in his rugby strip, as he’d just finished his own match for the Junior Colts.

“I hear you were man of the match, well done.”

“Was I? How did you get on?”

“We drew fifteen all.”

“Did you score?”

“Not this time. It was a tough match.”

“So was ours.”

“We could hear your mum from over on our pitch.”

Sy went a bit red. “She did get excited, sorry.”

“No, it’s brilliant. I wish more parents came and supported us.”

“Oh, are you going home this weekend?”

“Yeah, my Dad’ll be here in an hour or so.”

“Doesn’t he ever come and watch?”

“He’s been to a couple. He said he would if I get into the colts next year and the firsts after that.”

“Does your mum not come and watch?”

“They’re divorced, like yours. My mum is in America with her new bloke. I haven’t heard from her in over a year.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Ian sat down.

“I don’t like talking about it. But you’ve been there, and worse than I have, so I know you’ll understand. What makes them want to go away?”

Sy saw how hurt Ian was. He recognised that in the macho world of the boy’s school, it was very hard for him to show apparent weakness and give in to his feelings.

“I don’t know. My mum had no idea that Dad was having an affair. He broke the news just before Christmas and we were both devastated. She took it badly and I could see how hurt she was. We cried a lot together, but she’s now fighting back.”

“Your mum’s great. My Dad has sort of shut away his feelings and we don’t talk about it. I don’t even know what happened. I don’t think either was seeing anyone else, but I did hear them argue a lot.”

“What does your dad do?”

“He runs his own company. It’s a computer software company. He deals in technical software for the catering industry. The programs that run mechanised process plants and stuff.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s that dull!”

They both laughed.

“Where do you live?” Ian asked.

“Little Milton, why?”

“I live at Watlington. Do you want to do anything this weekend?”

“Yeah, if you like. I’m not sure what’s happening, but Mum told me that my father was arrested last night.”

“Shit, no?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone. You know what this place is like?”

“Only too well. You poor bugger, what happened?”

Sy shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. Mum will tell me on the way home.”

“Who’s she with, is that her father?”

Sy laughed. “No, believe it or not, that’s the father of the woman who stole my dad.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, he and mum have ganged up against my Dad. I can’t wait to hear what happened.”

“When you do, let me know, this sounds wicked!”

“Okay. I’d better go. I’ll see you.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Sy had a huge smile on his face as he went off to tea.
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa didn’t say too much on the way home. It was dark when they got home. Gerry refused the offer of a drink.

“I’ve a plane to catch,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I’m going to New Zealand. I think it’s time to bring the prodigal home.”

Nessa smiled and kissed his cheek “Good luck and thanks.”

He said goodbye and drove away. Nessa opened up the house and Sy looked at the strange man sitting in the dark in the hall. He was peering through a special sight in to the garden.

“Who’s that?” Sy asked.

Nessa looked at the man who smiled nodded at her.

“I think his name is Steve, he’s a policeman.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Nessa explained exactly what had happened. Sy’s eyes got bigger and bigger, and it all seemed so surreal.

“Five million?”

“It was probably more, but that’s what the documents showed.”

“Gosh. Look, I’m starving, what’s for supper?” Sy asked.

“Boy, have you adapted or what? How about Pizza?”

“Sounds brilliant.”

“Sy?” Nessa’s voice changed and she came closer.

“What?”

“I need you to teach me to cook. I can’t live off Pizza and stuff all my life.”

“Cost you,” he said and laughing, ran up to change out of his school uniform.
 

*          *          *
 
Len got back into the car.

“They’re back,” he said.

“Good, do we go in now?”

“Not yet. It seems that Mrs Williamson had a friend over. I took his car number, so we can find out who he is. I just want to make sure they are really alone.”

The Lexus was parked in a lay-by some half a mile away. Len had gone out on foot and watched the house for a while. There did not appear to be anyone there, but a BMW arrived with a child, a man and a woman in it. The man drove off in another car, a Jaguar, and the woman and child entered the house. The man hadn’t been Richard Williamson.

“How do we play this?”

“Carefully. The ex-wife isn’t to know about the money. We go and simply ask is she knows where her ex is and then we leave.”

“No rough stuff?”

“Not with her or the kid, yet. If it seems Richard is going to play silly buggers, then we snatch the kid. There’s nothing like a little incentive to make him play ball, is there?”

Reg grinned in the darkness.

The car approached the house and stopped a little way from the front door.

“Turn the car round and wait,” Len said.

He got out, approached the front door, ringing the bell.

A very attractive woman opened the door.

“Yes?” she asked, with a pleasant smile.

“Mrs Williamson. You don’t know me, but my associates had some dealings with your husband. We’re somewhat anxious to locate him, as there are some business documents we need to get sorted out. Do you happen to know where he is?”

The smile vanished and Len was amazed at the transformation on her face.

“My ex-fucking-husband may as well be in hell as far as I’m concerned. He fucked off to New Zealand last year and I’ve not seen the bastard since. The father of his other woman is also after him and I told him the same thing. Don’t know where he is, I don’t want to know where he is and, rest assured, if I see him, I shall be calling the police as there are court orders out for him. He owes me a lot of money, so get in line!”

“So, you haven’t heard from him?”

“No, and that’s a good thing, because if I see the son of a bitch, I’ll probably castrate the bastard!”

Len wasn’t often shocked. He was now, as this very attractive, well-spoken and delightful lady was clearly somewhat irate over her ex-husband.

“Would you call us, should he appear or contact you?”

“Why should I?” she asked, quite reasonably.

Len smiled. “There is a financial implication, and I’m sure that any call made to us will see you compensated to the value that you feel that your husband owes you.”

“Are you serious? Are you telling me that you’ll pay just to find out where he is?”

“That’s it.”

“I won’t ask what line of business you and your associates are in. I have a feeling I don’t need or want to know. Leave me a number, but I doubt he’ll try to contact me. He knows that I’ll make his life miserable!”

Len handed her a card with a single mobile number and the name -Mr Smith.

She looked at it and flicked the edge with an elegantly varnished nail.

“Mr Smith, like I believe that!” she said and smiled again.

Len blushed slightly and gave a very rare smile in return.

“Thanks for being so, ah, so understanding, Mrs Williamson. I understand that should some unfortunate accident occur involving your EX- husband, you wouldn’t feel too unhappy?”

“Do bears shit in the woods?” she said. “Goodbye, MR SMITH,” she said and closed the door.

Len was still chuckling when he returned to the car.

“What’s so funny, Lenny?”

“Just drive. He won’t come here. Shit, Reg, it’s not often I meet a woman I admire, but I just have!” Len said, and he picked up the telephone to call Eddie.
 
 
Chapter 12
 
 
Monday morning was grey and dismal. December arrived with driving rain and a feeling of depression in the air. At least it did for Richard Williamson.

He was in a police cell, having been charged with a holding charge of false accounting, been before a court and remanded back into police custody for other matters to be investigated. Immigration officers were also aware of his illegal entry and as a British subject, they had handed the passport forgery/alteration over to the police. Without even looking at anything other than his personal books, he was facing at least five years imprisonment.

He had no idea where he was. He knew he was somewhere in the Midlands. That was one relief, as it was less likely that Eddie could locate him this far from London.

The Superintendent hadn’t pressed him about Eddie, and he’d refused to say anything in interview, apart from the words, ‘No Comment’.

He’d been left without human contact for six hours since his breakfast had been brought at seven. The court had given the police six days to continue the investigation into the multi-million pound fraud, and he knew he would have to deal if he ever wanted to be free again.

The gaoler brought him a heated up microwave meal for lunch, with a cup of unsweetened tea.

“Can I speak to the Superintendent, please?” he asked.

The man grunted and nodded, leaving him alone again. He ate the meal and read the two-day-old Daily Telegraph for the seventh time. An hour later, the key rattled in the lock and the heavy door swung open.

The gaoler waved Richard to leave the cell. He shuffled out with his beltless jeans loose around his waist. He slipped on his shoes, which were left outside his door.

He followed the man down the corridor, past the desk where a shoplifter was being booked in, and then to an interview room. The Superintendent was there waiting for him, a uniform Inspector was also with him.

“Sit down Mr Williamson. Do you want your solicitor?” the Superintendent asked.

“No.”

“Before we start, I need to be certain that you are willing to be further interviewed about other matters that have not been discussed before and that you are happy to be interviewed without a solicitor present?” the inspector asked.

“Yes.”

The Inspector asked him to sign a record to that effect.

The Inspector left and another detective came in and sat down next to Superintendent Harris.

The detective put two tapes in the machine and they waited until the bleep.

“My name is Detective Superintendent Edward Harris, and we are in interview room number three at Queens Road Police Station, Birmingham………
 

*          *          *
 
Fast Eddie didn’t like Mondays either. He’d listened to Len with interest. It seems that Gerry McCallum and Mrs Williamson had combined forces to locate the missing man as well. Len’s assessment of the ex-wife made him smile. Len was an exceptional judge of character, and in happier circumstances, Eddie would like to meet this woman.

A man can’t just vanish, he thought, and then smiled ruefully. Over the years he’d made several men vanish, hoping that some motorway bridges and Docklands foundations wouldn’t be disturbed for his lifetime at least.

He had his snouts out at every prison and police station in London and the Home Counties. He was as certain as he could be that the Old Bill didn’t have him. Eddie hoped that he would be sensible and that if he was nicked, he’d keep quiet. Eddie was confident that he would, as if he didn’t, not only would he never get his money, but he’d also incur Eddie’s wrath, and that would not be good!

The day dragged, business came and went and he made another million on a new development in Essex.

He was just about to leave for the day when his secretary buzzed him with a call.

“He won’t give a name, sir, just that you’d know the voice.”

“Put him through, Cheryl.”

“McDonagh, who is this?” Eddie asked.

“You know who this is.”

“Richard, well, well, well. You scared me, boy.”

“Don’t you send your men around to my ex-wife again. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Listen, my friend, unless we come to an understanding, you never know what sort of accidents happen. School busses are notorious for their poor maintenance records.”

“Leave my family alone!”

“Your family? That’s good. You fucked off, Ricky boy, and from what I hear, your ex isn’t high on your list of fans.”

“Be that as it may. This is between you and me.”

“We have an appointment on Thursday. Still willing to meet?”

“Yes.”

“I want everything you have.”

“You’ll get it, but I want my cash.”

“Your cash? Moot point, Ricky, but I’ll bring the money.”

“I’ve one document I’ll keep and call you with its location after I’m out of the country. That way I get to stay alive to get away.”

Eddie respected and expected that.

“When do you want to do this?” Eddie asked.

“Have you the cash?”

“I can get it in a couple of hours.”

“Then let’s do it today. I’ll meet you anywhere you want, say at midnight.”

“Midnight? Why that late?”

“Less people about, quieter and I can get the early plane out for New Zealand tomorrow. There’s nothing in this country for me any more.”

“Double-cross me, Ricky, and you’re dead!”

“Double-cross me, Eddie, you’re a prison number.”

Eddie nodded.

“Midnight, then. Tower Bridge.”

The phone went dead.

Eddie put it down and looked out at the grey river and the grey city.

He picked up the phone again, punching in a number.

“Len, tonight, mate. Get Reg.”

He then punched in another number.

“Stan? Listen mate, does your cousin still do a bit of freelance in New Zealand?”
 

*          *          *
 
Richard handed the phone to the Superintendent. His hands were shaking.

“I need to make sure my family is safe.”

“We’ve armed officers at the house.”

“Not them. Shit, in Vanessa’s frame of mind, I’d put money down on the villains coming off worse. I mean my family in New Zealand!”

The Superintendent stared at him. Slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll make a call.”
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa was also suffering from that Monday Morning feeling. It was nothing to do with the weather, the season or even the day. It had everything to do with being a healthy fertile female.

“Fucking hell! What a mess! URGH!” she shouted, frightening the policeman on duty down in the hall.

Feeling like shit and swearing every inch of the way, she went to take a shower and read the instructions on the box of Tampax. The shower improved her slightly, and once she worked out how to insert the tampon, she felt a little more like a human being.

After getting dressed, she stripped the sheets and took them to the washing machine in the utility room, liberally adding detergent into the drawer provided.

Sitting drinking a strong sweet black coffee, she glowered at the policeman who popped his head around the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, fine!” she said. He was married, so recognising the signs, he grinned, withdrawing hurriedly.

She found one of Vanessa’s home doctor type books and looked up periods. Heavy bloated feeling — yes, pain — yes, headache — yes, bleeding and tender boobs — yes.

“Fuck, four to six days of this!” she said, shut the book and poured out another coffee.

It had been a lovely weekend. Sy had been on a high after the rugby and on hearing that Richard was deep in the shit. They’d had a quiet evening in, eating Pizzas and watching old films on the DVD player.

On going to bed, Sy admitted that he actually was quite enjoying being thirteen again, even if now as a different gender than the last time.

“I can’t get over how different boys are. They really are less complex and scheming. I’m remembering all my lessons, and find maths fun for the first time ever. The teacher is a real hoot.”

Nessa smiled. “Good, but don’t get too embedded, we still have to try to swap back,” she said.

“Yeah. I just want you to know that if it doesn’t happen, I won’t be that depressed. Goodnight.”

To Nessa’s surprise, Sy went to his own room and never quibbled at all about bedrooms or roles.

The phone ringing woke Nessa on Sunday morning. Not very good at getting up early, she noted it was nine thirty and answered the phone by the bed.

“Mrs Williamson, this is Howard Jamieson.”

Nessa had a blank moment.

“I’m Ian Jamieson’s father. He’s a friend of your Simon at school.”

“Oh, right, sorry, miles away. Hello.”

“I’m sorry if this is a bad moment, but Ian was wondering if Simon was free today, perhaps for lunch?”

“Well, it’s just the two of us and we’ve nothing planned. I do need to talk to him about some personal problems. It’s very kind of you. Can I ring you back?”

“I’m sorry, this is so rude of me. Ian has just told me a little of your circumstances. I feel a complete idiot. Why don’t you both come over? We could go out to a pub for lunch or something. My cooking isn’t that hot.”

Neither is mine, buster, Nessa thought.

“That sounds lovely. Where?”

“Have you ever been to the Barley Mow at Clifden Hampden?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s a lovely pub on the Thames. It’s actually mentioned in J.K. Jerome’s book, Three Men in a Boat.”

“Sound’s fun. What time?”

“Half past twelve?”

“Lovely. See you there.”

Nessa dragged herself to the shower and having washed and dried her hair, done her nails, makeup and dressed in a very stylish black dress with white piping, she was still downstairs before Sy.

He appeared at eleven, looking sheepish.

“I haven’t slept that long in ages!” he said.

“Get smart, we’re going out for lunch,” Nessa said.

“Why?”

“Because we’ve been invited out by someone called Howard Jamieson and his son Ian. Remember, he’s a friend of yours apparently.”

Sy realised she was teasing him, as she knew Ian as well.

“Care to tell me why your leading man suddenly is missing you enough to ask you to lunch?”

“Nessa, it’s not like that!”

“Looks like a crush to me!”

“It’s not. He’s hurting too. His mum lives in America, and unlike us, he’s never discussed things with his dad.”

“Oh. Is his dad juicy?”

“Nessa!”

“Sorry, bad taste. You really must get used to calling me Mum, or something. Nessa is a little odd, don’t you think?”

“Alright, MUM,” Sy said with a laugh.

“Go and get changed. Jeans are too scruffy.”

“Aw, Mum!”

“Shut up!”

Both dissolved into giggles, but Sy went and changed.

Nessa’s driving meant they were five minutes early at the pub. There was a car park on the opposite side of the narrow road, and the pub itself was an old thatched building. Although several fires occurring in recent times meant it had been thoroughly renovated and restored internally.

Clifden Hampden was a tiny quaint village with an ancient narrow bridge that crossed the Thames. Most of the homes were 12th to 15th century and it was the archetypal English scene.

They went into the pub, and found it warm and cosy. Log fires burned, and the atmosphere was welcoming.

“Simon!”

Ian was already here and he came over to Nessa and Sy.

“We’ve got a table in the back room. Come on through.”

They followed him under low beams and found themselves in a tiny room with only a couple of tables and a log fire.

Howard Jamieson was forty, six foot, with sandy hair, and looked just an older version of his son. He stood as Nessa approached.

She took off her coat, finding Ian attentively helping her.

“Hello, you must be Vanessa, I’m Howard,” he said, and held out his hand.

“Call me Nessa, I’ve never liked Vanessa that much. My mother used to call me it when I was in trouble.” She shook his hand, smiling as she saw his eyes flick down to her breasts and then to her long legs.

“Low in here, I nearly biffed my head,” she said.

“You’re quite tall for a girl. I had to bend double to get in,” Howard said.

She sat next to him. He smiled and asked if she would like a drink.

“A dry white wine would be fine, thanks.”

He disappeared with the boys and returned with the drinks.

The boys chatted away about rugby and Nessa looked around the room.

“This is cosy,” she said.

“I like it. I haven’t been here for years. They say the food is very good.”

The menus were written in chalk on large blackboards. They all selected what they wanted and Howard placed their orders. The boys found a one armed bandit so Howard and Nessa returned to their table.

“Simon says we belong to the same club,” Nessa said.

“Club?”

“The abandoned and divorced club!”

“Oh, yes, I suppose so.”

“I’m sorry. It may be a bit of a sore subject. Found that by talking about it, somehow it becomes easier,” she said.

“I confess that I probably haven’t spoken about it as much as I should. It still hurts.”

“Welcome to the club. My ex had been screwing another woman and then buggered off so she could have their baby.”

Howard frowned.

“Ours was different. There wasn’t anyone else, she just went a bit strange on me.”

“Strange?”

“We married quite young, she was nineteen. We tried for a family, and after several miscarriages, Ian came along. Unfortunately, Theresa developed quite bad post-natal depression and, to be honest, never was quite the same again. The arguments got worse and eventually things just became unbearable. I still loved her, but we just couldn’t live together. She left, went on some medication and met an American doctor.”

“Was he treating her?”

“No. She went out to America with another girlfriend she met in a clinic. She met the doctor on a beach in California. I’m very happy for her.”

“Do you have contact from her?”

“Not really. Ian got a card and a cheque on his birthday last month, and she forgot even to sign the cheque.”

“How’s he taking it?”

“He seemed to be okay, bur recently I’ve noticed he’s been withdrawn and miserable. I think school is fine, with its routines and busy activities. He’s not alone with his thoughts, as he is here. I seem to lose myself in work and that means I tend not to dwell on things much. When I do talk about it, the emotions become too much and I just have to stop.”

Nessa saw the tears well up in his eyes and instinctively she reached out and touched him on the arm.

“Then let’s not dwell on it now. I’m sorry to have hit a nerve.”

He smiled, and looked down at her hand on his arm. It was a very pretty hand, the nails were slender and shaped, varnished a quiet red colour and in line with her very elegant appearance.

She exuded warmth and confidence and he liked her.

“How about you, how are you bearing up?” he asked, liking the feel of her hand on his arm.

“Oh, better now. It’s all turned out rather complicated, I can’t tell you much, as there’s a lot going on. We’ll just see if I can come out with enough money to keep the house. Perhaps I’ll have to sell and sell my body on the streets of Oxford.”

He was shocked for a moment and then realised she was teasing. He laughed.

At that moment, Ian and Simon returned. Ian stared at his father in frank disbelief. He was laughing and Ian hadn’t seen or heard him laugh for months. He saw Nessa’s hand on his arm and he smiled.

Their starters appeared and the boys sat down. Nessa found herself even closer to Howard and smiled slightly. The mood changed and the chatter was mainly of school and the play. Nessa teased Simon about his female role and to her surprise, Ian defended his decision.

“I think he’s very brave. Most people wouldn’t dream of taking a role like that, but it shows guts and a real determination to take acting seriously. He’s very good, too.”

As Nessa enjoyed a tease with the boys, Howard watched her. She was very attractive. Her auburn hair was streaked with copper and gold that appeared perfectly natural. Her eyes were so full of fun and laughter and everything about her pleased him greatly. He couldn’t remember finding a woman that appealed to him as she did.

They had a very happy lunch and after Howard paid, Nessa kissed his cheek. The boys both made rude noises and yet he had liked the kiss more than he would ever admit.

After they had parted, for the first time since his wife had left him, Howard had another woman on his mind. He also had a smile on his face, which his son found wonderful.

Sy teased Nessa all the way home.

“You flirt!”

“Shut up!”

“I’m amazed you didn’t write your number on your knickers and give them to him.”

“He knows my number and anyway, I’m not wearing any knickers.”

“Nessa!”

“Got you!”

“Tart!”

“Well, how was you first double date, yours seemed nice?”

“Nessa, don’t be smutty.”

“Seriously, we are getting in rather too deep,” Nessa said and both stopped smiling.

“What makes you say that?”

“I was attracted to him and I know he was to me. It would be so easy, Sy, so bloody easy. What the hell happens then? I don’t know if I want to go back to being a boy, in any case.”

Sy was quiet.

“I could go back. I still miss being me,” he said, and then became aware that Nessa was crying.

“Nessa, what’s up?”

“I’m a girl. I don’t want to go back to being a boy. I adore being a woman and I’d happily go back to being thirteen, but not as a boy. I’d rather lose the twenty-two years and stay like this than go back to being Simon.”

Sy nodded. He’d guessed, and this confirmed it.

“Have you had the curse yet?” he asked.

“I am at the moment, why?”

“Does it change your mind.”

“Hmph, no!”

They arrived home and Nessa was still slightly depressed. Sy showed Nessa some basic recipes, and tricks like making a roué, and then a white sauce. They had fun in the kitchen and after supper, Nessa drove Sy back to school. She was just driving out when she had to stop to let Howard drive in through the main gates.

Howard stopped and lowered the window. Nessa did the same.

“I just wanted to say thanks. I can’t remember when I enjoyed myself as much,” he said.

“It was fun. Perhaps we could get together this week?” she said.

“I’d like that, may I ring you?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, bye.”

They passed and Nessa drove home with a smile on her face.
 

*          *          *
 
Ian sought out Sy in his house. He was in the common room, reading a Neville Shute Novel, A Town Like Alice.

“Hi Simon,” he said.

“Oh, Ian, hi.”

“That was a good lunch.”

“Yeah. It was.”

“My dad’s cheered up. I can’t remember seeing him this cheerful since Mum left.”

“That’ll be because of mum. I think they fancied each other.”

“I like your mum. She’s fun. She’s not all stuffy like most grown ups. She’s very pretty too, even though she’s quite old.”

“She’s only thirty five!” said Sy, slightly hurt.

“Like I said, old,” said Ian, teasing his friend.

Sy grinned and said nothing.

“You’re very like her, aren’t you?”

“In what way?” Sy asked, realising they’d been here before.

“You’re slim like her, your voices are similar, and you have the same colour eyes and hair.”

“That’s genetics for you.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Ian sat down. “What do you reckon makes boys — boys, and girls — girls?”

“That’s a bit deep. Chance I suppose, why?” asked Sy.

“I’ve often wondered why I was born a boy. I mean, I don’t want to be a girl, but I think it would be nice to choose. Say, live up to ten as neither, and then depending on who you are, you could choose to be a boy or girl.”

“What if you make the wrong choice?” Sy asked, wondering where the boy was going with this.

“Then you get to thirteen to change your mind, but once puberty hits, then you have to stay as you are.”

Sy was silent. This was quite deep and he didn’t know what Ian was leading to.

“If you could choose, would you be a boy or a girl?” Ian asked.

“I dunno. I’d stay as what I know, I suppose,” Sy said, hedging neatly.

“Yeah, me too.”

Something was bothering Ian.

“Look, something is bothering you, what is it?” Sy asked.

Ian looked around to see if anyone was listening.

“I just, no, this is stupid.”

“Go on, it’s worrying you, obviously.”

“Well, when you do the readings for your part as Julia, you almost turn into a girl, and it screws me up completely.”

“I turn into a girl?” Sy asked, a little shocked.

“Shh, no, almost, I said. You sound and act like a girl. It is so strange, but I almost believe you turn into a girl for a short time!”

“Ian, this is weird! Are you gay?” Sy didn’t like asking the question, but it was the expected response for a boy his age.

“No! I don’t fancy you or anything, not like this. I just think about you as a girl, like a sister or something. As I said, it’s so stupid.”

Sy looked at Ian.

“No, Ian, it’s not stupid. If I was a girl, I’d fancy you, but I’m not and I don’t so that’s the end of it. If a miracle ever happens, and I wake up one morning to find that I’m a younger edition of my mother, I take it you’d like the second call?”

“Second call?”

“Yeah, I think my mother would want to know first.”

Ian smiled but was unsure how to take what Sy had said. He left a seriously confused young man.

“Shit!” said Sy, as one more complication leaped onto the pile.
 
 
Chapter 13
 
 
Nessa finished her second coffee and heard a commotion in the hall. The Superintendent walked into the kitchen, closely followed by Richard.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked.

“This ends tonight, one way or the other. Richard has agreed to cooperate and is assisting us to nail McDonagh.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Nessa said, glaring at Richard, who had yet to meet her eyes.

Ted turned to Richard.

“Well?” he said.

“I asked to come,” Richard said, making eye contact for the first time. Vanessa looked even more attractive today and he felt that greasy feeling of regret and foolishness stir deep within him.

“So?”

“Vanessa, I’ve been a complete fool. I just wanted to tell you that I am bitterly sorry for leaving, the way I left, and the hurt I caused both you and Simon. Now I know what I did was wrong, and you didn’t deserve what happened. I was completely selfish, irresponsible and as you so eloquently put it, an utter bastard.

“I know that I have ruined any chance of maintaining any form of relationship with you, but I’d like to think that Simon could, at some time in the future, forgive me enough to remember that I am his father. Whatever happens over the next few days and weeks, that will never be taken away, so please tell him that I still love him, and that I ask him for his understanding and forgiveness in time.”

Richard slumped, as if this speech had been something he’d been working up to. Nessa felt curiously detached and yet in another sense, she was deeply moved by what he had said. She didn’t show it, except for some extra moisture in her eyes.

“It’s a bit late now to play the contrite husband!” she said, her voice even and showing no emotion.

He nodded, the Superintendent looking faintly embarrassed.

“Richard, we’re no longer married and, whatever happens, you are still Simon’s father. Any decisions he makes regarding you, are his to make. Just don’t expect miracles and not for a long time. That boy is seriously hurt and you screwed his life up completely. In fact, you seem to have fucked up everyone with whom you’ve had dealings. I feel just as sorry for Susannah and the baby, as anyone.

“You’re a fool Richard. You had so much and yet you wanted more. In the end you risk losing everything and for what?”

He looked into those eyes again, and was surprised to see compassion as well as the hurt. Guilt lay heavy on his soul and he sighed.

“Goodbye, Vanessa, I’m sorry,” he turned and walked out, the policeman nodded to her and followed.

“Okay, let’s do it!” She heard Richard say.
 

*          *          *
 
Senior Constable Andrew Rawlings of the NZ Police parked his car at the front of the Seaview Hotel on the outskirts of Dargaville. He walked up the steps and into the lobby.

It was a small hotel, like many guesthouses in this area. No more that a dozen rooms and a small bar/dining area. A pretty, blonde woman came out of the office; there was a baby in a carry crib close by.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Yes, are you Susannah Williamson?”

“Yes, oh my God! It’s Richard, isn’t it? What’s happened?”

“Can we go some where private, Mrs Williamson, please?”

“Oh shit! Is he all right, just answer me that?”

“He’s fine, as far as I know. Please, Mrs Williamson?”

They went into the office and Susannah sat down.

“Your husband is involved in a complicated matter and all I can say is that he’s in some trouble relating to business affairs from a few years back. I’ve been asked to call on you and to ask whether anyone strange has come by recently?”

“Strange? It’s mid summer and the tourists come through every day. Of course there are strangers.”

“I mean people who are out of place, unusual, not like your average tourist or guest?”

“Not really. To be honest, I don’t take a lot of notice. With my husband gone, I’m on my own with two local girls to run the place. It’s all I can do to keep the place going and look after the baby.”

“I’ve been asked to fit a personal attack alarm. I’ll put it in your bedroom. If anything untoward or strange happens, then press the button that activates it.”

“Why do I need it?”

“They didn’t tell me much, Mrs Williamson. It seems that your husband may be involved with some men who may attempt use you as a lever for some reason. It’s probably nothing, but it’s best to be careful.”

“But they’re in England?”

“Maybe so, but it is just a phone call away,” said the officer.

The girl started to cry. Everything was going wrong. She’d fallen in love with a man who was married and to such an attractive woman too. He was reluctant to leave his wife, but when Susannah fell pregnant, it was the last straw and he literally cut and run. Susannah felt really sorry for the wife and child he left, but he’d told her he’d made more than adequate financial settlement.

However, when his ex-wife had chased him to New Zealand, she found out that he’d done nothing of the kind. It had been a hard year for them all and once the divorce came through, she almost refused to marry him. For the sake of the baby, she’d done so and after one month, he’d left to return to England, supposedly to collect a fortune that was owed to him.

Susannah had been in love and had had such dreams. The dreams were turning into a nightmare. She took the officer up to her room and watched as he installed it, attaching it to the phone line.

“Just press this if you get frightened, okay?”

She nodded and felt the tears well up again. The officer felt sorry for the English girl. He’d been told a lot more than he passed on to her, and was aware, for example, that it was highly unlikely that Mr Williamson would be returning to New Zealand in the short term.

After placing the alarm in her room, the officer had finished his assigned task. He nodded to Susannah and made to leave. She went with him downstairs and stopped dead when she reached the lobby.

Standing in the middle of the lobby was her father.

“Daddy!”

She broke down and ran to him. He enveloped her in his large arms and held her close. The officer smiled and walked out.

Susannah was weeping uncontrollably now and Gerry simply held her. A baby started to cry, causing her to start to regain some semblance of control.

“I take it that’s my granddaughter?”

Susannah smiled through her tears.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy, I’ve made such a bloody mess of everything.”

“Aye, lass, ye have at that,” he agreed and smiled at her.

“Oh, Daddy what do I do?”

Gerry looked round the scruffy little hotel lobby.

“Well, I’m flying back home in a week. I’m hoping to take you and the baby with me.”

“What about Richard?”

“Richard is rather busy at the moment. I think he’d prefer it if you were being well looked after.”
 

*          *          *
 
Nessa was feeling so lousy, she didn’t feel like doing anything much. She reflected on the words that Sy had imparted relating to the curse and smiled ruefully. Regardless of the discomfort she was currently experiencing, she would still prefer to remain female.

The phone rang. She answered it in the kitchen. It was Professor Burton.

“Ah, I have some news,” he said.

“Oh yes?” she said, guardedly.

“Yes indeed. By your tone, I take it you are not that keen to rectify the situation, young lady?”

“I don’t know, professor. I know I adore being a woman and an adult. I think I could cope being a teenager again if I could be a girl. I just don’t want to be a boy.”

“Fascinating, absolutely fascinating. You could be a study in your own right! Anyway, it may be academic in any case, as I think I can recreate the conditions that instigated the initial change. I am still convinced that the mental state of both you and your mother are crucial to the whole scenario. If you are unwilling to change back, you could scupper the whole project.”

“I’m not unwilling, I just have preferences. I accept that it is reasonable and natural to return things to the way they were and I know my mother would like to pick up her life again. It’s selfish of me to have the desires I do, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Hmm, be that as it may. I think I’ll have everything set up by the end of next week. I was able to ascertain the exact voltage of the power cables and even the depth of the water in the ditch. I’ve even started building a steel frame with two old car seats in it, with rubber wheels to insulate it from the earth. Can you and your mother come down week after next week?”

“What day?”

“Friday would be good.”

“You can do it that soon?” she asked, horrified.

The rich chuckle of the professor came over the line.

“My dear, your disappointment is almost tangible. I doubt we could actually do the dreaded deed that soon, but we can certainly start the fiddly bits. As for your unique situation, I have a suggestion…….”
 

*          *          *
 
It was raining and the streets were slick and dark. The streetlights glowed orange and white, the rain dampening light and sounds equally. Traffic had died away to occasional vehicles swishing past, spaying any unfortunate pedestrians, of whom there were few.

Richard sat in the back of the unmarked police car. His mouth was dry and he felt afraid, more afraid than at any time in his life. The Superintendent sat next to him and sat staring out of the window. His earpiece made slight noises, indicating he was listening to his men as they got into position.

Richard was hot, not only because his nerves made him sweat, but also the body armour was incredibly warm.

“Are you sure Susannah is safe?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Her father is with her and the local police have everything is hand.”

Richard was surprised.

“Her father? How did he get to know where she was?”

“It seems she emailed him for money.”

Richard fell silent, feeling guilty that here was a second wife he’d let down.

“I really have fucked up, haven’t I?”

“I couldn’t possibly comment, Mr Williamson. But, it might appear to be so.”

“If anything happens to me, can you make sure the girls are looked after?”

“Which girls would that be, sir?”

Richard laughed.

“I haven’t any others, just Vanessa and Susannah.”

“That’s one more than most of us, sir.”

“Whatever, could you?”

“I’ll do what I can. It depends on how much we seize from Mr McDonagh.”

Richard fell silent, looking at the clock on the dashboard. Half an hour until the meeting was due.

The Superintendent handed over the documents in the case.

“McDonagh believes me to be booked on a flight out tomorrow morning,” Richard said.

“You name is on the flight, Air New Zealand at 07:10.”

Richard nodded.

“I take it I won’t be on the flight?”

“You take it correctly.”

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” he said, and got out of the car and started to walk towards the bridge.
 

*          *          *
 
Eddie was in a small warehouse on the south side of Tower Bridge, some four hundred yards from the bridge itself.

A small walkie-talkie squawked into life.

“He’s on his way. Walking down from the north.”

Eddie nodded and turned to Len.

“Go meet him, Len.”

“What about the cash?”

“Take it all. Tell him the rest will be sent to him on receipt of the missing document.”

“He won’t fall for that.”

“No, I don’t expect he will. I think Mr Williamson will cut his fucking losses, don’t you?”

“If he doesn’t?”

“Tell him that baby Gail may well be an orphan if he doesn’t cooperate. I want that document, Len, so persuade the bastard to hand it over. Otherwise, he’s not flying anywhere!”

“Gotcha, how far do you want me to go to persuade him?”

“Len, you silly fucker, I want him to be able to hand it over, so no rough stuff, not until I’ve got it, right?”

“And once you’ve got it?”

“Dead men tell no tales, Len, you know that!”

Len nodded and walked out into the damp night. His colleague, Reg, joined him and they headed north together.
 

*          *          *
 
The police marksman positioned on the top of a tall building adjacent to the bridge watched the two men approach. He had also seen two more men on the upper sections of the bridge, dressed in dark clothing, obviously looking out for police or other interested parties.

He gave a commentary to the control. Two other similar officers secreted on other buildings were able to watch the building where McDonagh was seen to enter some fifty minutes earlier. They’d been in position two hours ahead of the appointed time.

“It’s not McDonagh.”

The Superintendent frowned. They’d discussed this possibility and he hoped Richard would stick to the plan.

Richard reached the centre of the bridge. The lights along the embankments gave the Thames a fairy-like appearance. He stood and waited; listening and trying not to look at the police observers he knew were out there.

Two figures approached him. One a big man and his companion much smaller. Neither was McDonagh. They stopped a few feet away.

“Mr Williamson. Mr McDonagh sends his regards and asks that you give me the case. I have your money here,” the smaller man said, holding up as similar brief case.

“Sorry. I’ll only deal with Eddie.”

“Don’t be childish, Mr Williamson. It will work this way, or not at all.”

“Then it won’t work then. I’ll give this to the police and take my chances with the courts.”

Len stared at the man for an age, trying to assess whether this was a bluff.

“What’s it to be?” Richard asked.

“Wait here,” Len said and turned and walked away. Richard noted he took the case of money with him and left the large man behind.

Richard walked over to the side of the bridge and stared downstream. He thought about how foolish and naíve he’d been. Greed does strange things to a man. He’d lost sight of what was important, and as a result was on the verge of losing everything that was of real value.

He sighed, and recalled the flashing angry eyes of Vanessa when he’d finally apologised. Only now he’d lost her did he fully appreciate her beauty and depth of character. He’d lost his son as well and if Susannah was back with her parents, there was another failure to add to his list of failures.

He looked down into the black inky swirling water and actually wondered what it would be like to drown.

His problems would be over. Vanessa could get on with her life, Susannah was young enough to find someone else and Simon would never have to worry that he was going to come back into his life. It was quite an attractive proposition. A voice broke into his thoughts.

“Ricky boy, you have pissed me off! Why get me out on a cold and wet night like this?”

Richard turned and saw Eddie. The other two men were a short distance behind him. Richard knew now that there was a good chance he’d never get off this bridge alive. He smiled, unless he was still alive before he hit the water.

Eddie was in an immaculate camel hair coat with a dark velvet collar.

“Hello Eddie. Let’s pretend we can do business,” Richard said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. Richard had changed. Gone was the pleading and desperate man of a few days ago. Here was a man who knew he had nothing to lose. In which case, here was a man who could be very dangerous!

“All right, Ricky. Simple transaction, you give me everything you have and I give you all the money.”

Richard nodded. “That sounds fair.”

“I mean, everything you’ve got, no holding back for insurance. We need to have a little trust here, Ricky. Know what I mean?”

Richard snorted. “Trust? Do me a favour. If I give you everything, I may as well top myself to save your men there the trouble.”

Eddie smiled. “That wouldn’t be sensible, now would it?”

“What wouldn’t? Topping myself, or giving you to the authorities?”

“Either or both. Look, you are the only person who can threaten my future, so, I admit that I’m being slightly cautious and am concerned. You see, if you’ve sold me out, then you are a dead man. If you haven’t, then I need to make sure you are never going to be able to threaten me again. I need to cover all my bases.”

“Eddie, you still don’t understand, do you. If I don’t get the money, my life is worth absolutely nothing, and I don’t care if you kill me. No one gives a shit anymore, least of all me!”

“Here’s what we do then, Ricky boy. You give me that case in exchange for this one. Then you and me are going to go and pick up anything you’ve put by for a rainy day. I will take you to Heathrow, and put you on the flight you’ve booked. Yes, Richard, I checked.

“I also happen to know that an associate of mine is in New Zealand, and baby Gail is going to be an orphan if you don’t give me everything. Do we understand each other?”

Richard nodded. “You’re a bastard, McDonagh.”

“You’re an amateur, Ricky. You should never have played with the big boys if you didn’t know the rules.”

“Just leave my family alone. I’ll give you your fucking documents.”

Eddie put his case down and stepped close.

Richard handed over the document case.

Eddie opened it then and there, on the pavement.

“Okay, the transaction account slip isn’t here.”

“No, it’s safe.”

“I want it. Richard!”

“You’ll get it.”

Eddie raised a hand, and a large Lexus appeared from the south.

“In!” he said and Richard got in.

Eddie climbed in beside him, clutching the money case to his chest, the car taking off at speed.

“Where is it?”

“Heathrow, the left luggage lockers. I was going to mail it to you before I boarded the flight.”

“Then let’s deal personally. You’ll still get your flight.”

The driver was a young West Indian man and he kept a keen look in his mirrors for any sign of pursuit or surveillance vehicles.

“Got a tail, Harvey?” asked Eddie.

“Not yet.”

The Metropolitan Police helicopter, India Nine-nine, was flying very high and was able to track the car better than any ground units. It tracked them all the way to Heathrow.

The car sped through the tunnel to the Central Terminal Area, coming to a halt outside Terminal Three. Richard was ushered out and into the building. The left luggage office was open, even though there were few flights between 23:00 and 06:30 there were still people about, including armed police officers.

Eddie felt uncomfortable, as he was off his turf here.

The Superintendent was concerned, but felt happier when he heard that his men arrived and were deployed into the terminal. He himself took his group of detectives to a location closer to Tower Bridge than Heathrow.

Richard collected his envelope from the office and handed it over to Eddie. Eddie opened the envelope and looked relieved.

He looked at his watch.

“All right Richard, I’ll bid you farewell. We won’t meet again. My associates will wait with you and assist you to board your plane in the morning.”

With that he turned and walked out.

Len and Reg appeared and stood a little distance away. Richard smiled, sat down opened the case and started counting his money.

Eddie sat in the back of the Lexus, reading through the documents that Richard had surrendered. They were damaging, showing dates and amounts. In the wrong hands, this could show Eddie’s business empire for what it was, built on the proceeds of organised crime. Eddie was amazed at some of the details that Richard had acquired and he admitted increasing respect for the middle class businessman. The man had been nothing if not thorough.

It was nearly two in the morning as Harvey pulled into the car park at his Docklands offices. Eddie thanked his driver and went straight up to his office.

He entered his office and threw the case onto his desk. He went to his large safe he’d had built into his drinks cupboard and opened it. He bent over to take something out when his felt someone was watching him. He spun round and saw three men in his office. All wore suits and he recognised coppers when he saw them. His eyes flicked to the desk and he saw the case was no longer there. He experienced a sinking feeling.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Edward McDonagh, I’m arresting you for false accounting, currency irregularities, tax evasion, blackmail and extortion. And those are just for starters.” The Superintendent then cautioned him.

Eddie nodded. He’d been set up.

“Can I call my wife?”

“No calls.”

“I know my rights,” Eddie blustered.

“Then shut up. You know you get no calls until you get booked in and they are authorised.”

Officers moved in and handcuffed him. Another officer went to the safe and started taking everything out, placing them in plastic bags. Eddie was led out to a waiting police car. He saw Harvey was being placed into another car, as were two other of his ‘associates’ from the bridge.
 

*          *          *
 
Richard was amazed, as it was all there - five hundred thousand pounds! He smiled, the ironic thing being that he wasn’t going to be able to keep any of it.

Len saw the police first.

His brief was to take care of Richard at the first sign of trouble. He drew the gun with obvious precision due to practice. He managed to get two shots into Richard at almost point blank range before the police could react. Richard was flung over the back of his chair with the blast, blood spattering the wall behind.

When the police finally reacted, four bullets from the officers’ MP5s tore through Len and he died before he reached the ground.

Reg stared at his friend and then at the advancing police. He gave himself up without a struggle. Officers surrounded Richard, and a paramedic appeared as Reg was led away. He heard him utter only three words, “Shit, he’s dead!”
 
 
Chapter 14
 
 
Robert Wiseman wasn’t just a solicitor; he was an exceptional solicitor. He had to be, for his clients were usually as guilty as sin and the very best, or worst, that the criminal world could supply. His firm had represented more armed robbers, blackmailers and extortionists than all the other London firms put together.

He found Eddie in reasonable spirits, considering.

Superintendent Harris had given him a single A4 sheet of paper with disclosure set out neatly. He’d found that the arrest had taken place at two in the morning and was concerned that it was now two in the afternoon of the following day.

“Why has it taken so long to call me? This is clearly a breach of my client’s rights!”

“Your client has been further arrested for conspiracy to murder. Twelve other people have been detained and your client was held incommunicado until all arrests had been completed and evidence secured. It’s all documented on the custody record, so cut the crap, Robert.”

Robert nodded. He’d read the custody record and had spoken to several other detained persons. All twelve had asked for him to represent them and he took it upon himself to speak to each in turn before delegating the lesser minions to be represented by his associate solicitors.

He read the disclosure and frowned. It wasn’t what was disclosed, but what wasn’t disclosed that concerned him. Some of the details would indicate that they actually had an awful lot against his client, and that wasn’t good.

He was taken to a small interview room and Eddie was brought to him. Eddie’s  £1000 suit looked a little crumpled and he was unshaven.

“Eddie.”

“Bobby.”

Eddie sat down and Robert passed over a pack of cigars to the disgruntled man. He put them in his pocket.

“Well?”

“I’m told that the irritation has been treated.” Robert said carefully

“Good. Now what have they got on me?”

“It’s not good, Eddie, quite a lot.”

“Can we do a deal?”

“I can ask. What can you offer?”

“Depends on their terms.”

“I think you’ll have to plead to the tax offences and some of the false accounting charges, but maybe they would drop the others if you offer them some good intelligence.”

“How about the conspiracy charge?”

“The evidence depends on the deceased, so he’s not a threat. Reg is fine, he won’t talk and Len is dead.”

“How?”

“Armed police. I’m told they took him out after he’d taken care of matters.”

“Poor fucker, have you sorted out his missus?”

“One million, as agreed.”

“How are my offshore accounts?”

“Very healthy. They can’t touch what they don’t know about.”

“So can we deal?”

“I’ll ask.”
 

*          *          *
 
At much the same time, but sixty miles away, Nessa was shopping at Sainsburys. The novelty of who and what she was had worn off. Life was still far better than at any time in her life, and she just adored being an attractive young woman. Her period seemed to emphasise her gender, and far from making her change her attitude, if anything, it reinforced her desire to remain female.

She was browsing in the aisles, looking for ingredients for her cooking experiments, when a familiar voice caused her to look up.

“Hello Nessa.”

It was Howard Jamieson.

She smiled, and his heart felt the warmth radiated by that simple action.

“Howard, hi. Are you following me?”

He smiled back at her.

“No, just stocking up. Being a single parent is tiresome at times.”

“Come on, they’re at boarding school, you can’t plead that one,” she said.

“Well, with work and everything, I don’t get much time to prepare for the assault on the larder at weekends.”

They pushed their trolleys in the same direction, but Nessa found her concentration gone. She liked the man, but realised that not only was his attraction for her obvious, she sensed he wanted to take it to a stage that she was reluctant to go. Whether this was through fear or a realisation that if she went there, any hope of returning would be unthinkable, or both, she was uncertain.

She was grateful she’d written a list, and managed to acquire everything she’d intended to buy. She was very conscious of the Super Strength Tampax boxes in her trolley. They even stood together in the check-out, despite there being another lane free, Howard was content to be with Nessa.

She was loading up her car when he appeared.

“Are you busy, this evening?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“Would you care to join me for dinner?”

“I love to.” She heard her voice answer.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Oh, are we going out?”

“Yes, is that all right?”

“Fine. Casual or smart?”

“Smart would be good.”

“Okay. Do you know where I live?”

“Oh yes.”

She smiled, shutting her car boot.

“Seven then,” she said.

“Great. Thanks.”

“What for?” she asked, frowning.

“Being so delightful. Bye.” He walked off before she could reply. She smiled all the way home.

The weather was still damp and grey, so she was pleased that something exciting was happening. Last Christmas had been horrendous, so she watched the festive celebrations and preparations with some disquiet. She put her shopping away, grateful that any cooking was now postponed for a day at least.

She went and had a long soak in the bath and spent ages getting ready. She concentrated on getting her makeup as perfect as she could. Many a day she’d practiced with different colours, shades and styles of makeup. She knew she was being bolder and more adventurous than her mother ever had been, and she adored the whole exciting adventure.

It was ten to seven when she felt satisfied she was ready. She wore a little black silk number that hugged her curves wonderfully. Her matching black underwear, with black slip felt exquisite, and she adored the slithery and sensational feel the clothes gave her. With dark stockings and very sexy high-heeled shoes, she felt she was about as sultry and sophisticated as she could manage.

She took her black overcoat from the cupboard as he pulled his Mercedes onto the drive.

She opened the door as he was getting out.

He stood and stared at her for a moment, conscious only of a rushing in his ears as his heart rate doubled instantly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, walking towards him, buttoning up her coat, her small black evening bag held under her left elbow.

“Not at all, you look fantastic!” he said, once the power of speech returned.

She came right up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you. You look hunky, yourself,” she said, as he raced round the car to open the door for her.

“You needn’t bother, I’m quite capable of opening a car door myself, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

She kissed his cheek again. “Mmm, that aftershave is gorgeous. Is it Au Savage?”

He blushed and nodded. She got in and he closed her door.

He got in and started the car.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Pooh, I hate surprises,” she said.

“Do you, really?”

“Not really, but after Richard dropped the big one on us, I tend to prefer not being surprised.”

“I can understand that. This is a nice one, I promise.”

They chatted about meaningless trivialities for a while, and then Nessa caught the sign.

“Howard, no!” she said.

He grinned and indicated right.

“Yes!” he said.

“You can’t! It has to be the most expensive restaurant in England!”

La Manoir de Quatre Saisons was indeed one of the finest and most exclusive restaurants in the country. Nessa had never been here, but had heard about it.

Howard parked the car, and she managed to open her own door and alight before he could get round to her side.

“How did you manage to book in? I’ve heard they’re often book up for months in advance.”

“It’s a weekday and I phoned on the off chance. There had been a cancellation, so I was lucky. Call it fate!”

“Or fortune,” she said, and felt his arm encircle her waist gently.

They entered together and the luxurious surroundings almost took her breath away. It was situated in an old country house, in a lovely setting and beautifully decorated with period furniture and trappings.

They had their coats taken, and Howard gasped audibly as Nessa took her coat off.

“That’s a beautiful dress!” he said and she smiled self-consciously.

“It’s not a little to short?” she asked, stretching one leg out delightfully.

Howard swallowed and felt his collar was becoming rather tight.

“No, not at all, it’s perfect, as are you,” he said, blushing like a schoolboy.

“Oh, Howard, you are kind,” she said, kissing his cheek for the third time. It was all Howard could do to prevent himself from reaching out and drawing her to him. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone in his life. He desired her more than he had desired his ex-wife at the height of their passion. Howard Jamieson was hopelessly and completely in love!

Her scent wafted to his nostrils and he drew in as much as he could deep into his soul. She took his arm as they were shown to a small table in the bar. The waiter gave them a pair of elaborate menus and took their drinks order.

The prices were out of this world and she looked at Howard.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

“Completely. Please, don’t worry about the cost.”

The menu was in French, but an English translation was available under each item.

“How about the set menu on page sixteen?” he asked.

She looked at it. It was a six-course meal, and looked quite unbelievably wonderful, including lobster and duck.

“It looks lovely,” she said, and before she could object, he’d ordered it for the pair of them.

“Would you prefer red or white wine?” he asked.

“I’ll drink whatever you are,” she said with as smile.

He ordered some wine and she looked about her in awe.

“This is lovely, I’ve heard so much about it, but never been,” she said.

Howard smiled, content to be in the presence of the most beautiful woman in the world.

She chatted about her day, and the frustrations of living alone, and drew him further out of his shell than he’d ever been. They started to compare and share experiences, and Nessa could feel the hurt that he’d been through as well.

They were escorted to their table when their first course was ready, and so began the most wonderful culinary experience Nessa had ever had. She was so excited with every dish, and she clapped her hands with positive glee when the waiters removed the covers of their ducks simultaneously.

She was such a joy to be with, that Howard completely forgot his pain for the first time. It was at that point he decided that he would ask her to marry him.

She sat back after the most mouth-watering and delicate desserts, patted her tummy and said, much to his delight, “Phew, I’m stuffed!”

The headwaiter, conscious of her striking beauty and refreshing attitude, smiled and thought that there was no greater endorsement of their cuisine.

She was presented with a hot towel and a single red rose.

“This is wonderful, I wish I could afford to come here every day,” she said with a grin.

“For you, I’m sure I could try,” said Howard.

“Don’t you dare! Seriously, this has been wonderful and too much would be dangerous,” she said, chuckling.

The headwaiter kissed her hand and then someone helped her on with her coat. Howard felt his breast swell with pride as the headwaiter said, “Monsieur, please, you and your wife must return soon.”

Howard looked at Nessa, who hadn’t heard the comment.

“I really hope we shall,” he said and escorted his lady out to the car.

Nessa was quiet on the journey home. She was full, but also confused. Her body reacted to his man and she was very grateful that her period would prevent her from allowing things to progress, for if it hadn’t been for that she was certain she wanted to go to bed with him.

He pulled into her driveway.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

“Nessa, I’d love to come in. But If I do, I wouldn’t be able to trust myself. I have to confess that I am more than attracted to you and would, in all probability, disgrace myself shamefully.”

She smiled. “Howard, fate has decreed that that monthly curse we suffer is occurring right now, so you will have to blame me for not allowing you to disgrace yourself. Come in if you want, we’re both adults.”

She got out of the car and smiled as he too got out, entering the house with her.

She hung up her coat and turned on the gas fire in the living room, as the heating had gone off. It was a mock coal fire and gave a good level of warmth.

“Drink?” she asked.

“Just a coffee would be fine, thanks.”

“Instant okay?”

“Fine.”

He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she filled the kettle, putting the coffee into the mugs. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She turned and melted against him, looking up at him with those wonderful eyes. Her full red lips were slightly open and she smiled.

He lowered his lips to meet hers and was simply blown away by the passion she exuded. They kissed for an age, Nessa feeling all manner of things happening to her body. Her nipples hardened and she could feel her sex swelling in eager anticipation. Butterflies in her tummy flew in circles as she felt the wonderful excitement for the first time.

This was her first kiss, ever, and she adored it.

Howard let his hands cup her firm buttocks and he loved the feel of her slinky clothing as she responded to his touch. He felt his erection swelling as she pressed tightly against him. He knew she could feel it and he ached to make love to her.

The kettle boiled and she broke off.

She smiled and took a piece of kitchen paper, delicately removing her lipstick from his face.

“You have me all over your face,” she said.

“I want you, Nessa!”

“Mmm, I know. But not tonight.”

She poured the coffees and gave him one of the mugs.

“Sugar?”

“No, thanks.”

She walked into the sitting room and sat down on the large leather sofa. She patted the seat beside her and he sat down.

“Where are we going with this, Howard?” she asked.

He blinked, unable to deal with such a direct question.

“Why?”

“Because things are complicated. I need to know, as it will have a bearing on decisions that have to be made.”

He nodded and looked into those wonderful eyes.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you and I’d like to get to know you much better. Nessa, I want to make love to you and I feel like a giddy sixteen year old.”

She smiled and stroked his cheek.

“Thanks. Now I know,” she said.

“Nessa, I need to know, is there any hope?”

“There’s always hope. Let’s take things one day at a time, okay?”

He nodded, so she leaned across and kissed him again.
 
 
Chapter 15
 
 
Ian and Sy were surprised when Nessa and Howard turned up to collect them together in Howard’s Mercedes the following Saturday. Both boys were playing for their respective teams, and Howard actually watched his son for the first time this season. Nessa screamed her heart out in support of her son and his team.

They both won their matches and as they changed afterwards, Ian asked Sy what he thought about seeing their parents together.

“Do you think they’ve shacked up together?” Ian asked.

“Oh God, I hope not!” said Sy, thinking on possible consequences.

“Why not, I think they’d be good for each other?” Ian asked, slightly upset by Sy’s reaction.

“I agree, but things are a little complicated at the moment,” Sy said, unable to tell his friend the real reason for his disquiet. If Nessa was now active sexually, then the whole intention to revert would be hopelessly compromised.

He didn’t get an opportunity to speak to her until Howard dropped them off at home.

“Well, what’s going on?” he asked, and became annoyed when she laughed.

“Nothing. Oh, don’t look like that. He took me out for a meal. When he came back here, he professed his love for me and if I hadn’t been on blob, I’d have probably gone to bed with him. But nothing happened, but, shit Sy, I was so close!”

“Where does that leave us?”

“We have an appointment with the Professor next Friday. It seems progress has been made and you never know, he might have good news for you.”

“Me, how about you?”

Nessa sighed. “It’s not so easy. Look, I don’t want to be Simon. I’ve settled into this girly thing and it is so much better than being a boy. If I have to go back, a straight swap, I’ll be as gay and screwed up as they come. Bottom line, I wanted Howard to fuck me, and I was so close to giving him a blowjob, you have no idea. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that if you get to return, I could do something you have to live with. But, next time, I might not be so strong! The problem is that because of my self control, he is twice as determined and it’s hell, Sy, absolute hell!”

By this time, she was crying in utter frustration.

They had a cuddle.

“Are you seeing him again, this week?”

“Thank God, no. He’s off to a computer software convention in Geneva. He even asked me to go with him, but I couldn’t due to the professor’s appointment, but I can tell you I was tempted. If I did, I’d have let him screw me, you realise that?”

Sy nodded. “Yes, I think I do. I’m proud of you, as this must be so hard for you.”

“How’s your week been?” Nessa asked.

“Hell, I have his son lusting after me,” Sy admitted.

“No? He’s gay?”

“I don’t know. He says not, but he keeps saying he sees me as a girl. It’s very odd.”

“Oh God, what a fuck-up!” said Nessa and they both laughed.
 

*          *          *
 
A few miles away, Ian and his father were having a conversation along similar lines.

“What’s with Simon’s Mum, Dad?”

“Ah, well, Nessa and I have become quite good friends, of late,” Howard said.

“How good?”

“We’ve been out to dinner and I’ve fallen in love with her, that’s how good.”

“How does she feel?”

“I think she’s of a similar mind, but with all the problems, she’s a little distracted at the moment.”

“Yeah, Simon said there were some problems. I’m not sure what they are though.”

Howard frowned. “I’m not certain how you two are so friendly. He’s not your age and neither is he in your house. What’s the attraction?”

“We’re doing the play together and we’ve both been hurt by the split-up of our parents,” Ian said, but going red at the same time.

“Ian, what else?”

“Nothing, honest.”

“Ian, I do know when you’re fibbing.”

Ian was bright red by this time.

“Well, it’s daft, Dad, but some of the time, like when we’re reading the lines in the play, it’s like he turns into a girl and I’m sort of attracted by the girl side. I’m not attracted to him at any other time, it’s just he manages to act so convincingly. It fascinates me and confuses the heck out of me at the same time.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” asked Howard, feeling faintly concerned.

“Yeah and he asked me if I was gay as well. I like him, Dad, as a friend and I won’t do anything silly.”

Howard nodded and let it go, for the time being.
 

*          *          *
 
At six pm on the Saturday the phone rang. The police told Nessa about the incident at Heathrow and that her ex-husband was now dead. She shared the news with Sy and they cried a little for him.

“Well, we can now get on with our lives,” Sy said.

“With no money.”

“I’ll have to leave school. The school fees fund can be diverted into something else, like the mortgage. You’ll have to go back to work.”

“There has to be another way!”

“I don’t see how. Unless he has an insurance policy he never told us about!”

“Shit. I wonder if the professor will be able to help us get back to normal,” said Nessa.

“What’s normal, eh?

Nessa smiled a very sad smile.
 

*          *          *
 
On the Sunday, Howard called and they went out for another pub lunch together.

Howard watched young Simon and had to admit that the boy was very feminine in many of his mannerisms and traits. He was very like his mother and Howard could actually see why Ian was confused. He knew the boy was seeing a specialist and he wondered if the problem was related to gender identity or similar.

He didn’t want to bring up the fact and embarrass either Nessa or Simon. He watched the interaction between Nessa and her son and saw they were really much closer than most mothers and sons that he knew. Closer, indeed, than he was with Ian, and he vowed to do something about that. He’d thoroughly enjoyed watching his son playing rugby and the whole feel of being almost a family had been thoroughly therapeutic.

Nessa gave him confusing signals. She kissed him and was tactile towards him, but he sensed she was also holding back and he was unsure why.

“Nessa, is everything all right?” he asked.

“No Howard, I’m sorry, I suppose I can’t hide much from you. The police called yesterday. My ex-husband, Richard, is dead. It was on the news last week, the shooting in Heathrow of the unnamed man. He was my ex-husband.”

A mixture of relief and concern flooded Howard’s whole being. Relief that it was nothing that he had done and concern over the horrific aftermath that may occur involving the woman he was in love with.

However, Nessa was still slightly withdrawn and distant. Howard was worried, but having experienced much worse moods with his ex-wife, he just accepted it and bided his time.

On the Wednesday, she rang him and asked him over for dinner. He accepted and arrived five minutes early.

The house was warm and welcoming, and she was immaculately turned out is a red dress and matching shoes. She served up a very tasty pasta bake and a home baked apple pie.

She opened a bottle of fine red wine although didn’t drink any herself. During the meal, she was chatty and pleasant, yet all the while Howard sensed something was troubling her deeply. After the meal, he helped her wash up, and they sat on the sofa with their coffees.

“Nessa, have I upset you?”

“No, not at all. I need to try to explain something to you and hope you understand why I’m being a little distant.”

Howard nodded, hoping it wasn’t anything too serious.

“Apart from all the trouble with Richard, Simon is also having personal problems. I’d ask you not to tell anyone, even Ian, but the specialist thinks he has a rare genetic disorder. It’s hard to get a proper answer from them because it is so rare. It may just sort itself out, but there is a chance that the disorder may cause his some gender confusion. I’m not making much sense, but I’m rather worried about him. Apart from the lack of funds brought on by the divorce, which means I may have to take him away from school and send him to a local state school, it may be he’ll have to go to a girl’s school, such is the problem.”

Howard was not as surprised as he should have been, which indicated that Ian and he had discussed Sy’s natural femininity. Nessa was working to a hidden agenda here and she hoped that things would work out in the end.

Howard was relieved that Ian’s problem was suddenly more understandable, and assured Nessa that he’s not mention the conversation to anyone. Nessa relaxed and then Howard pressed home his advantage.

“Nessa, about your financial difficulties,” he said.

Nessa frowned. “What about them?”

“I have a solution.”

“Oh?”

“Marry me.”

Nessa was speechless. She knew he was fond of her and indeed gauged that he was working up to this in time. However, the suddenness of his proposal threw her completely. Particularly as her plan was for him to propose to Vanessa, not to her!

“My gosh, Howard. What can I say? I’m flattered and a little surprised. After all, we hardly know each other at all. With everything that’s going on, can I be cheeky and ask for you to put it on hold just until I am a little more clear about life?”

“Of course,” he said, failing to hide his disappointment.

“Oh Howard, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but with the emotional turmoil we’ve both been through, I feel a little caution is healthy. I am so fond of you, but I don’t want to make a mistake. I hope you understand.”

Howard did, and as a result, he loved her all the more. He swore to be patient and kissed her goodbye.

The week passed, and on Thursday evening Nessa appeared at school to take Simon out for the ‘appointment. They drove down to Exeter and Sy was pleasantly surprised at how much better Nessa’s driving had become. No longer attempting to break the land speed record, she was considerate and very safe.

The professor wasn’t in, but a note on his door directed them round the corner to a small unit on an industrial estate.

The door was open and on entering, they found the man fiddling with some contraption attached to a steel tubular frame mounted on rubber tyres laid flat on the concrete floor.

“Ah, glad you could make it. Well, just in time, I’ve finished,” he said. They noticed a woman standing watching the proceedings with a smile on her face. She was shaking her head slowly.

“Ah, this is my niece, Linda. Linda’s a doctor working at a clinic specialising in gender disorders and I thought it prudent to have someone medical standing by, just in case. She’s going to give you both a thorough medical and make records, just in case.”

“Just in case of what?” asked Linda.

“Linda, this needs to be recorded accurately. I believe we are about to witness an historic event, and there needs to be unequivocal evidence and records.”

“You can’t be serious about all this?” Linda asked.

“I am, my dear, as are these good people. Please, the examinations?”

Linda shook her head, but examined both Nessa and Sy. She noted everything of note on medical charts.

“This is mad. These people just can’t be serious!” Linda muttered.

“Yes, they are, dear. So just watch and wait. Hopefully, your services won’t be required.”

They looked at the finished product. It looked like something children build out of those special kits. Two car seats were bolted to the steel frame. The wheels ensured that it was insulated from the ground, and the front section was immersed in a tank of water.

Cables led from a large junction box, which looked similar to that on the pole where the accident happened.

“I’ve even managed to get the concentrate of the airbag release device. Just to ensure that the chemical composition is as close to the original event as possible.”

“That’s it?” Nessa asked.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know really.”

“Well, let’s check it for size. Get in, and strap yourselves in.”

Nessa and Sy looked at each other.

“What about you?” Sy asked.

The professor looked at her.

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No, in case it doesn’t work.”

“Tell me what?” asked Sy.

“Nothing, let’s just do it!” said Nessa and strapped herself into the nearer seat. Sy looked at the contraption with some trepidation. However he too strapped himself in.

“Right, that’s fine. Now we need to talk about when we do it,” said the professor.

“Do it now, before I change my mind!” said Nessa.

“But, the last time, you were both rendered unconscious!”

“So, call an ambulance.”

Sy nodded and looked at Nessa. The young woman was crying and he suddenly felt sorry for her.

“No! We can’t!” he said.

“Why not?” said the professor, who was just about to pull the switch.

“Nessa doesn’t want to do it. It won’t work.”

“Yes, I do. Just do it, please!”

The professor pulled the switch.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Weird Wednesday by Tanya Allan   Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply. On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it? Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all. No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered... but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 16
 
 
It was quite spectacular, a huge arc of blue electricity leaped across the frame, with sparks and a familiar smell of burning plastic. The lights in the unit went out and they were plunged into darkness.

Linda gasped, rushing forward to help. Her uncle held her back, flipping the switch to the off position. He went to the fuse box and returned the trip switch to the on position. The lights came on.

“Uncle Ray, you are the limit! Honestly, have you any idea what you’ve done at all?”

They went forward and to their relief found the pair in the contraption still alive. Neither was conscious and Lucy managed to help her uncle to remove them and place them in the recovery position on the mat he’d brought along especially.

The woman started stirring first. Linda went to her side and checked her over. She opened her eyes, blinking and then looked around. She looked at the still form of the boy next to her and gasped.

“Oh my God!” she said, and lay back with her eyes closed.

“Bugger!” said the professor.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know if it worked!” he said, rather upset.

“Uncle Ray, what they hell are you doing?”

“Later, Linda dear, I’ll tell you later!”

The boy started to move and, much to Linda’s alarm, the movement turned into twitching, until she believed he was having a fit. He started to writhe and moan, his body contorting into strange positions. Suddenly he started to shudder and assumed a foetal position and lying very still.

“What have you done?” she asked, looking up at her uncle.

“Nothing. If anything happened, she’s responsible for it all herself!”

“How can she be, she’s over there and unconscious as well,” she said indicating the still form of Nessa.

“No, Linda, you misunderstand. It’s her doing!” he said pointing at the boy.

Linda stared at her uncle, shaking her head.

“Are you totally potty, he’s a him, Uncle, not a her!”

“Examine him then and tell me what you find.”

Linda bent over the still form and checked his pulse. It was normal, as was his pupil reaction. As she was checking his eyes, she realised that he was awake.

“Hello, how are you feeling?” she asked, feeling a fool.

The boy stared at her and then turned towards the Professor.

“Well?” the older man asked.

The boy raised a hand and touched his face, moving the hand down to his chest. From there, he pushed the hand down the front of his jeans. He stopped and withdrew his hand. Linda was baffled as the teenager started to cry.

Linda was initially quite concerned, but then realised that the tears were not of sadness, for a huge smile broke through the tears. Linda opened the shirt to check respiration and heart and after a brief examination, she turned to her uncle with a strange expression on her face.

“How?” she asked.

“It worked?” asked the old professor.

The girl on the mat nodded, her tears mingling with laughter of pure joy. She buttoned up her shirt again, concealing her small but very real breasts from view.

“Excellent! I thought it might. Let’s check on your mother.”

“Uncle, what the hell have you just done?”
 

*          *          *
 
Twenty minutes later, mother and brand-new daughter were seated at a table drinking hot sweet tea. Simone (pronounced See-moan-ey) was wearing a beatific smile that warmed the old professor’s heart.

Linda was trying to get her head around her uncle’s explanation of the mind-blowing event she had just witnessed. He kept chuckling and writing notes in his large handwritten journal.

Vanessa was still in a daze. She was back and felt enormous relief. However, that relief mingled with a sense of confusion and trepidation, as she realised that Simon had managed to alter the process to an alarming result.

She looked at her daughter, for Linda confirmed beyond all doubt that Simone was now one hundred percent female.

The girl retained the same slim figure, now subtly altered, with a narrower waist and slightly broader hips. It was the budding breasts that swelled beneath her shirt, and the jewel that nestled softly between her legs.

“What the hell do we do now?” Vanessa asked.

“I had a genetic disorder. I was inter-sexed and the stress of the divorce aggravated the situation, causing me to start developing female secondary sexual characteristics. We need medical professionals to accredit that fact, and then apply for changes to my records. I read up on the process on the internet.”

“Simon, what about school, this has far-reaching affects!” her mother said.

“Mum, it’s Simone, not Simon!”

“You planned this, both of you, didn’t you?” Vanessa asked, quite heatedly.

“Not so much planned and theorised it could be done. I went from the basic assumption that the physical conditions were simply an amplifier for the real power, the human brain. If the will should dictate the terms of transfer or indeed, the terms of change, then the will was the deciding factor. I simply suggested to your daughter that if at the moment of contact, she clearly frame her inner most desires, then it was reasonable to assume that they would be granted.”

“You really wanted to be a girl that much?” Vanessa asked her daughter.

Simone simply grinned and nodded.

“Uncle Ray, do you realise what you’ve just managed to do here?”

“Oh yes, dear.”

“This could be worth a fortune!”

Raymond turned and looked at the young girl whose smile warmed the innermost sanctum of his soul.

“No Linda.”

“What?”

“I said, no. This is something I shall keep working on. Once I perfect it, then and only then shall I consider placing it into the public domain. This little experiment will be recorded and filed. These people have been through enough without experiencing the media circus that would be created if we go public now.”

“Think of all the people you could help! I have dozens coming to the clinic each week, for this would be a godsend.”

“I am. Linda, you can’t change the world all at once. I have to do it a bit at a time, and only those whom I feel are worthy. Will you help me?”

Linda looked at the Heath Robinson-like contraption, and then at Vanessa and her daughter.

“Yes, Uncle Ray, I think I shall.”

Vanessa and Simone were talking. Vanessa gasped and gasped again when Simone told her that Howard had proposed.

“What did you do?” she asked.

Simone giggled.

“Nothing, and that’s the truth. I wanted to Mum, I really wanted to, but didn’t. You can thank the curse for that, but it was close.”

“What do I do?” Vanessa asked.

“Take it one day at a time. He’s actually a lovely sweet man, and he loves you very much.”

“No, he loves you. Nes… Hell! Simone. He doesn’t know I exist!”

“You aren’t half an arse, Mum. He doesn’t know we swapped. He thinks I have a gender problem, and may turn out to be a girl.”

“How the hell did he get that idea?”

“Um, I might have told him,” Simone said, with an innocent expression.

“Why?”

“Because I knew that I wanted to be a girl. The professor told me it might be possible. Ian is falling in love with me, and I wanted to make the whole transition easier!”

Vanessa stared at her daughter.

“This is too much!” she said.

“Mrs Williamson. Might I suggest you take young Simone out and get her some more appropriate clothes?” the Professor said.

Vanessa looked at Simone’s jeans and rugby shirt. They looked quite fetching, and she did look pretty, but the girl’s smile told her she wanted to change as soon as she could.

Linda handed Vanessa a sealed envelope.

“Mrs Williamson. I have taken the liberty of writing a detailed report concerning your daughter’s possible condition. There is no doubt that she is a fully normal girl, so please use this report to effect the necessary legal changes to official records such as birth certificates and suchlike. And let me wish you both all the very best of luck.”

Vanessa and Simone hugged Lucy and her uncle, before heading back to the car.

“My turn to drive, thank God!” said Vanessa with a smile.
 

*          *          *
 
They arrived back late. It was nearly eight o’clock and the house was in darkness. Vanessa put the car away as Simone opened up the house. Vanessa looked at the tall slender girl in the new skirt and pretty top. Simon had been a good-looking boy, but as a girl, she was stunning and was still only thirteen!

By the time Vanessa came in, the fire was on, and she could hear Simone in the kitchen.

“Omelettes okay, Mum?” the girl shouted.

“Lovely.”

She put down her bag and looked at her reflection in the hall mirror.

Nessa had looked after her well. The makeup was very good, and she had a keen dress sense. She brushed her hair and the telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Nessa, it’s Howard. I was wondering how you got on with the specialist.”

Simone came out of the kitchen and Vanessa let her listen in on the same receiver. Simone cupped her hands and whispered something to her mother. Vanessa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Hello Howard. It was difficult. As I mentioned to you before, Simon isn’t, um, well, Simon is… I’m sorry; this is so hard to explain. The son I had is now a daughter. Her condition was as they suspected, she has been a girl all along. It seems that the stress of the divorce and everything else has triggered her hormones to start working. I shall have to take her out of school, as I probably mentioned. The financial implications are also a valid reason for that step.”

“Have you thought any further on my proposal?” he asked. Simone whispered something else to her. She glared at her daughter who started to get the giggles.

“Oh Howard. I can’t answer that now. I have nothing further to add since we last spoke. This is not a good time, why don’t you and Ian come over to lunch on Sunday?”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, and I’d ask you to be gentle to Simone.”

“Simone?”

“Yes.”

“My God, this is so strange. You poor things. If you’d rather, we could make it another time?”

“No, it’s best to face things out. I’d like to ask your advice on selling the house, as well.”

“Sunday then, noon?”

“Noon’s fine.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Well done, Mum, that was excellent!”

“You’re a tart!”

Simone giggled.

“What about you and Ian? And you were a boy!”

“That’s different, I didn’t do anything.”

“He’s hunky too though. He’s like a younger edition of his dad.”

“This time, young lady, you will behave. You’re only thirteen, don’t forget it.”

“Thirteen going on thirty-five!”

They sat down and had a long chat. In fact, they had been talking all day, bringing each other up to speed on their particular lives and everything that had happened.

Vanessa had got off the world for a brief moment and was actually feeling so much better. Now she was back as herself, she found that Nessa had not only coped, but had assisted in the closure of many aspects that had been worrying her.

“Money is the biggest problem we have. I think we’ll have to sell the house and buy something smaller. I’ll have to go back to work as soon as I can.”

“Marry Howard, Mum, he’s loaded and we can relax.”

“No, that isn’t an option.”

“Spoilsport. I’ve softened him up for you.”

“Simone, if I chose to marry someone, it’ll be because I love them. I’m not that keen to go down that road again so soon after Richard…”

She broke off, as the reality of Richard’s death seemed to finally sink in.

“I forgot for a moment. It seems unreal,” Vanessa said.

The phone rang for the second time. Simone answered it.

“No, you want my mum, hang on.”

Simone pressed the privacy switch.

“Mum, it’s Superintendent Harris. I told you about him, remember?”

“I think so. What do I say?”

“As little as possible. I’ll prompt you.”

Vanessa took the phone, with Simone listening close.

“Hello?”

“Mrs Williamson. We need to meet, are you going to be in this evening?”

“Yes, why?”

“Are you alone?”

“Apart from my daughter, yes.”

“Daughter? I thought you had a son.”

“It’s a complicated story. I have a daughter called Simone.”

“But you will be there in about an hour?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m coming over. I have some news for you. Don’t be alarmed, it is good news, I promise.”

He terminated the call.

Mother and daughter looked at each other.

“Could Dad be still alive?”

“I don’t think so. What else could it be?”

“Money, perhaps we get some reward money?”

“I don’t know, does it work that fast?” Vanessa asked. Simone shrugged.

Vanessa looked at her daughter. They were the same height, and although Simone had short hair, her newly acquired makeup and short skirt made her look very attractive. She was very like her mother, lacking the maturity, but with that added youthful exuberance. Her nails were varnished and she looked like a clone of her mother in the way she stood, moved and spoke.

“What happened to those omelettes?”

“Shit!” the younger girl said, running back to the kitchen.
 

*          *          *
 
Ted Harris was confused. Mrs Williamson was a delightful lady, but he sincerely believed that she had a son called Simon. Certainly, Richard had been of the same opinion, but that was academic now.

As he drove out towards Oxfordshire, he thought back to the operation that was now in the final stages.

Eddie McDonagh had been charged with conspiracy to murder, eight counts of false accounting, twelve years worth of tax evasion of sums ranging from twelve million to thirty million, blackmail, extortion and several related offences that he wished to be taken into consideration. Thanks to the documents handed over by the Williamsons, assets in UK and off shore accounts worth over one hundred million pounds had been seized.

The Magistrates court remanded Eddie to the Central Criminal Court and he was awaiting trial in Belmarsh Prison. High-level negotiations with Home Office and Foreign Office officials allowed for the official death certificate being issued in respect of one Richard Williamson. A New Zealand Passport was issued in the name of Richard Clark, and with the approval of the Director of Public Prosecutions and the Attorney General, the holder of the passport was on his way to New Zealand at this very moment.

Richard Clarke had to sign an agreement never to return to the United Kingdom. In addition, no contact was to be made with any existing family or friends in the UK, directly or indirectly. Any breach of these conditions would leave him liable to prosecution for offences that were set aside. They would also seek repayment of a sum of two hundred thousand pounds, given for services rendered to the authorities in the McDonagh case.

He wrote a letter addressed to Vanessa and Simon. He dated it the day before his ‘death’. Edward Harris agreed to deliver it as he saw the man onto the plane.

“Words can’t express my sorrow at what I’ve done to my family. Tell them that, and that I still love them. I know I’ll never see them again, but perhaps this is for the best.”

He shook Ted’s hand and left Britain, never to return. He’d managed to contact Susannah, tell her he was returning with sufficient funds to give them a healthy boost. Her father wanted her to return to the UK, but she promised to wait for him.

The witness protection programme was not as highly publicised as in the United States and some other countries. However, as the case against Eddie grew, those in authority reconciled Richard’s personal courage and positive contribution against his earlier naíve greed and momentary weakness.

As he watched Britain diminish, he hoped and prayed he was in time to repair things with Susannah. His main regret was that he would never see his son reach maturity.

This was perhaps just as well, for at that exact moment, his son, now his daughter, was dishing up an omelette for herself and her mother. A casual observer would be excused for not realising that Simone was the same person as Simon, for in the transition, Simone had gained a glow and zest for life that Simon had seemingly lacked. The physical changes, although profound enough were, for the most part, hidden from view. However, the emotional and mental changes made her positively glow with contentment. There was nothing the remotest masculine about Simone, and even her hair, now cut in a chic style, was as feminine as the rest of her.

They had just finished washing up when the Superintendent arrived. Vanessa let him in and he shook her by the hand, after she took his coat and hung it on the mule post at the bottom of the stairs.

She led him through to the kitchen, and found Simone was putting the kettle on in anticipation. Ted looked at the pretty teen and frowned.

“I could have sworn that you had a son, Mrs Williamson.”

Vanessa went and stood behind Simone, resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“It’s complicated. Our child, Simon, was identified as being male at birth. However, recent, um, complications indicated a deep-seated problem relating to hormone levels and a confused gender condition. It seems that our son was never a son, but due to slight physical deformities, was wrongly sexed at birth, and now puberty is hitting, she is developing normally as a girl.

“I had to take her away from her school and see a specialist, and now she’s been given a clean bill of health. The other complications relate to schooling. Simone was at an all-boy boarding school, so that is now impossible to continue.”

“Did your ex-husband have any idea?”

“None. It came to light in the last three or four weeks. What with everything else, it wasn’t something I was prepared to talk to him about. I’ll never get the chance now, will I?”

The policeman looked at the pretty teen, whose cheeks dimpled delightfully when she smiled.

“It’s a wonder they couldn’t tell the difference, she looks like a younger version of you, Mrs Williamson,” he said, and both laughed at the compliment.

“Anyhow, I’m happy that this matter is resolved for you. I come with two tasks. The first is to deliver a letter written by your late-ex-husband, Mrs Williamson. He wrote it a few hours before he met his untimely end.”

He handed Vanessa an envelope. She took it, opened it and immediately recognised the handwriting.

“I’m very sorry, Mrs Williamson,” the policeman said.

Vanessa read:
 
 

Mr Darling Vanessa,      I hope you’ll excuse me calling you that. For now, too late and with the benefit of hindsight, I actually realise what a complete and utter fool I’ve been.      I am writing this because I now know that it is likely that I may never see you or Simon again. With all that we’ve been through, I feel ashamed that I have failed as a husband and as a father. I never set out to hurt you both, and realise now that my selfish actions did just that. I wasn’t thinking straight, but I don’t wish to make excuses. I accept the consequences of my actions, and just feel so sorry that I forced things on you that you didn’t deserve.      I have turned Queen’s evidence, and have asked that if any reward comes from the information we provided, then you could receive substantial remuneration that will ease your financial burdens with which I left you.      The fact we shall not grow old together saddens me, but that’s life! The fact, I shall never see Simon play rugger for England, nor see him meet a girl and get married, saddens me also. Ask him not to hate me or my memory too long. Rest assured, wherever I end up, I shall watch from a distance, if at all possible.      ‘Sorry’ is a word that doesn’t impart a fraction of what I feel now. It is with sadness that I say farewell, and I sincerely hope you meet a man who will love you and be everything I’m not! Your loving EX Richard

 
 
“Damn!” said Vanessa, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She handed the letter to her daughter. Simone read it and she too cried.

Ted Harris waited patiently for them to gather themselves.

Vanessa crossed the kitchen and picked up a box of tissues. She took one out of the box, gave it to Simone and they both blew their noses and wiped they eyes. As Ted watched, the two women went through an almost identical range of movements.

“You said two tasks, Superintendent. May we know the second?” Simoné said.

Ted frowned. He knew this young girl was thirteen, but she looked, sounded and acted far more mature than he expected a girl of her years.

“Quite,” he said. “I am pleased to inform you that in a combined operation, the police, customs and Inland Revenue have seized assets in excess of two hundred million pounds, and we fully expect that figure to rise. It is my duty to tell you that I anticipate you will receive a reward for providing information that secures the conviction of McDonagh and his associates. Notwithstanding the condition of the conviction, I have here a single cheque that will go some way to show our appreciation for your courage and assistance in this matter. Upon conviction, a second cheque will be forthcoming.”

He handed a second envelope to Vanessa, and Simone watched as she opened it.

“One hundred thousand pounds!” Simone said.

Vanessa looked at the Superintendent.

“How?” she asked.

“The serious Fraud office is not like a police force. We have access to special funds for such eventualities. I believe the final amount will be in the region of three hundred thousand,” he said.

“Well, that means I can pay off the mortgage, and Simone’s schooling is taken care of. I can’t tell you how welcome this is.”

Ted smiled.

“I’m so sorry about Richard,” he said.

Vanessa smiled weakly, but Simone frowned slightly.

“Can I ask a question, Superintendent?” she asked. Even her voice had the same inflection as her mother.

“Of course.”

“Do we, the British, I mean, do we operate a Witness protection programme, like the Americans?”

Ted stared at her, attempting to formulate a reply. He hadn’t expected this and was wrong-footed for a few moments.

In those moments, Simone suddenly realised she had guessed right.

“My God! He’s not dead, is he? He’s been paid off, - Richard Williamson is buried but not dead! No costly court case, no embarrassments, no newspaper scoops, just a mysterious death, an empty coffin and Bob’s your uncle! It was in his letter. He said he’d never see us again, not that he was going to die, just never see us again.”

Ted stared at the pretty young girl. He knew, with a degree of certainty, that if he lied, she would know. He decided not to.

“I have to inform you, Miss Williamson, that Richard Williamson is officially dead. However, your father is as we speak, flying to New Zealand under a new identity. He is prepared to start a new life, and a life in which he is prohibited from contacting anyone from the old one, or ever setting foot in the UK again. If he does so, he risks losing a similar payment to that which you and your mother have received, and indeed, may even face prosecution for offences that have been set aside, not forgotten.”

“Richard’s not dead?” Vanessa asked, shock registering on her expression.

“To all legitimate intents and purposes he is, but in reality, no, he isn’t.”

Vanessa turned to her daughter.

“How the hell did you know?” she asked.

Simone grinned.

“It’s what I’d have done,” she said.

Ted allowed himself a rare laugh. He liked this girl, more than he had ever liked a teenager before, and he’d had three of his own over the years.

“Mrs Williamson, you have an exceptionally bright daughter here. Best you look after her.”

“I intend to, Superintendent. Believe me, without her, I’d be lost!”

Ted said goodbye and walked out to his car. Simone came with him as far as the drive. Before getting into his car, he looked at the girl.

“So, what do you intend to do with your life, young lady?” he asked.

“Succeed, Superintendent. To be the best at whatever I do.”

“In eight years time, if you fancy a rewarding job, give me a call.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks, you never know, I might just do that! Goodbye Superintendent.”
 
 
Chapter 17
 
 
As Howard drove to pick up Ian from school on the Saturday, Vanessa was on the phone to Mr Carter, informing him that Simon would not be returning to the school.

“Vanessa, please be reassured that most financial matters can be resolved. Simon is a lovely chap, and I’m sure that we could negotiate some stay of fees until your ex-husband sees his way clear to fulfil his legal obligations.”

“Jacob, it isn’t the financial situation that is the problem. The police told us yesterday that Richard died in London last week. I don’t know the details, but he seems to have fallen foul of some underworld gangland killing. Financially, we are reasonably comfortable, at least in the short term. No, this problem related to Simon’s condition. His current medical condition would disqualify him from an all boy boarding school for the rest of his school career.”

Mr Carter was horrified. “Oh dear, you poor soul. What is wrong with him?”

“Nothing, Jake, nothing at all.”

“You confuse me, so what is his condition?”

“Very simply, my son isn’t a son, she’s a daughter. Simone had a rare genetic disorder, it seems that the poor soul has always been female, but had a deformity that confused doctors. She only started developing with puberty, and we caught it before it became embarrassing for either her, your boys of the school as a whole.”

Jacob Carter was rarely lost for words. Headmasters usually were the kind of men who could accept most things calmly and showing little reaction. This was not one of those times.

“Hello Jacob?”

“Yes, ah, um, I see. A girl, Simon is a girl?” he asked, as clearly he didn’t see.

“Exactly.”

“But Simon is a bloody good rugger player!”

“So, what difference should that make?”

“Um, no, quite! Um, he’s really a girl?”

“Yes, Jacob. Simone is a girl. So, unless you are suddenly going to change to become a co-ed school, we shall have to look elsewhere.”

Jacob was silent. He’d been attempting to persuade the governors to agree to take girls. In an ever-increasing competitive market, it would harvest a captive market. It was a good school, so parents would be more than happy to send the sisters of boys already at the school.

One of the arguments for not going co-ed, was the fact that the current ethos and discipline levels would be lost, due to the fact that girls couldn’t possible exist in such a rarefied atmosphere.

The fact that Simon, no — Simone, not only thrived, but excelled, gave Jacob the perfect evidence that in fact girls could not only manage but perform as well as, if not better than the boys.

“Vanessa, let’s not be too hasty with this. There’s only a week or so to go of this term, can you give me until Christmas?”

It was Vanessa’s turn to become confused.

“Why Jake?”

“If there was a way for your daughter to stay on at Ketterham Court, would you be willing to consider it?”

“Jake, she’s a girl. Think of how difficult it will be for her. Last week she was a boy, and next week she comes back a girl. I personally think it would be a nightmare for her.”

“Possibly, but then he, sorry she, was a popular boy, ah, girl, and I think, if we adopt the proper approach, then it could actually benefit all concerned.”

“Jake, you need your head examined. Her peer group wouldn’t know what to do. They’d treat her like a freak, she’d be teased and they’d make her life a misery.”

“Not necessarily. Not if I could persuade the governors and parents that she was a deliberate plan to prove that girls actually can make it at the school.”

“Jake what are you talking about?”

“Vanessa, Simon was in his first term. No one knew him from before, as he was the only one to come to us from his prep school. Think how easy it would be to say that he, sorry she was here as a test, just to show that a girl could survive at Ketterham.”

“Jake, I appreciate the thought, but it would be dishonest and ultimately could be disproved by anyone who knows the truth. Think of your credibility and that of the school. It just wouldn’t work.” Vanessa said.

“Please, Vanessa, let me at least speak to the governors, and I promise that I’ll simply tell them what you’ve told me. I’d love it if we could see a way for Simone to come back as out first girl!”

“I’m not sure, but perhaps I can wait until the new term.”

“Thanks. I promise I’ll get back to you within the week. There’s a governors’ meeting next Thursday.”

“All right, but I’m still not convinced that Simone would necessarily benefit from Ketterham any more.”

The call ended, and Vanessa looked uncertain as she put the phone back on the charger.

“Well?” Simone asked.

“He wants to persuade the school governors to let you come back.”

“Duh, I’m a girl, doesn’t he believe you?”

“Yes, I think he does, but he wants the school to go co-ed, and he feels your performance to date will prove that girls are capable of managing at the school.”

“Mum, I can’t go back there. They all knew me as a boy. Can’t he see the shit they’ll give me?”

“I can, sweetie, and I did try telling him, but he seems to feel that because you were so good at rugger and so popular, you’ll fit straight back in.”

“He’s an idiot!”

“Yes, dear, I fear you could well be right.”

“Hasn’t he the first idea at how boys think?”

“I don’t think he needs to, he’s only been teaching them for thirty years.”

Simone started to giggle and her mother caught the bug, and they both convulsed with laughter at the ludicrous situation. As they laughed together, the both realised that laughter had been absent from their lives as late. Simone gave her mother a hug.

“Oh mummy, I do so hope life gets better from now on.”

“So do I, dear, so do I!”

They spent the evening bagging up all Simon’s old clothes. She kept one or two items that were unisex, but they placed most of the clothes were in bags, destined for charity shops. Simone seemed to enter into the spirit of the activity with undisguised glee. It was as if by throwing away the old trappings, she was ridding herself of all things male.

Vanessa looked at her animated daughter and smiled wistfully. In a way, she missed Simon, but Simone seemed so much larger than life and bubbly. Simone was so different that Vanessa hardly believed that she was essentially the same person.

“Are you really happier like this?” she asked.

Simone just smiled and nodded.

“Would it have made any difference if we’d never swapped?”

“Probably. I’m not sure. I just know that after being you for a while, I could never have gone back to being a boy. It’s so hard to describe, but being a girl is just so much more real, somehow.”

“Real?”

“Maybe that’s the wrong word. My life was nothing, and yet as a few weeks as you, I had purpose and reasons to live. My whole being felt truly alive for the first time, and I adored the attraction that being a beautiful woman gained from men.”

Vanessa looked at her and smiled.

“And now, being thirteen again, doesn’t that bother you that you have to wait to get that attraction again?”

“Like a few hours?” she asked with a grin.

“A few hours?”

“You did ask Ian with his father, didn’t you?”

“So?”

“From what you told me, he was almost trying to get into your knickers when you were only pretending to be a girl.”

“Ah,” said Vanessa.

“Besides, I did just a little more than wish I was a girl,” Simone admitted.

“I don’t understand,” Vanessa said, frowning.

“Mum, get with it! How many thirteen year old girls have a 34C bust?”

Vanessa looked critically at her daughter’s figure, and it now dawned on her that over the day Simone had been developing rapidly. With all the excitement and visits, Vanessa hadn’t actually noticed. Now she did. Simone looked a lot more mature than most sixteen year olds, let alone thirteen year olds. It also occurred to Vanessa as to the model that Simoné had taken for her new shape.

“Oh, Simone, you didn’t?”

Simone shrugged.

“I felt so at home in your body, I just wished to have the same as yours, only my own age. Well, okay, not quite that young, more a sort of mid-teen figure.”

“Mid-teen? Is this your idea of a mid-teen figure?”

“Okay, mid to late, then.”

“Simone, you look more like a nineteen year old movie star!”

“Thanks mum,” the girl said and grinned mischievously.
 

*          *          *
 
Howard enjoyed watching Ian play and win his match. He was slightly troubled about what Vanessa had said, not really knowing how he would explain things to Ian.

After the lad had changed and came out to meet him by the car, he told him that they had been asked to Sunday Lunch by Vanessa.

“Cool, how’s Simon?” Ian asked, as he was aware that Simon was seeing the specialist.

“Vanessa told me that her ex-husband has been killed, so that adds to their worries.”

“Dad, how’s Simon?” Ian asked, quite heatedly.

“Um, there’s a problem, it seems.”

“What kind of problem, Dad, is he ill?”

“Not as such, well, not at all, but it seems that Simon isn’t really what we thought at all.”

“Eh? Dad, you’re not making much sense. What do you mean?”

“I called Vanessa on Friday evening, as I knew that they’d been to see the specialist. Well, it seems that Simon’s, um, condition, well, it wasn’t really due to the divorce. It was brought on by puberty, and well, it seems that, well, um, it may well be stress induced.”

“Stress induced, how?”

“Well, being in Ketterham, and being surrounded by boys brought on a stress type attack.”

“Why?”

“Ian, Simon isn’t Simon after all, she’s Simone, and she’s been a girl all along.”

Ian went very quiet.

Howard drove in silence for a while.

“Dad, how can that happen?”

“It seems she had a rare genetic condition which meant she was wrongly sexed at birth. It wasn’t a problem until the female hormones started and she began developing properly as a girl. So, it seems she won’t be able to continue at Ketterham.”

Ian wasn’t really listening. He experienced a rushing sensation in his ears. He had been seriously worried about his own sexuality after feeling the way he did about Simon. However, he realised that he only felt that way towards Simon when he played the role of a girl. He’d not experienced these feelings with any other boys and yet he still worried. His mind was in a whirl, as he tried to make sense of what his father had said. His father mistook his silence for something else.

“If you’d rather not go, I could ring and make our excuses,” Howard said.

“No Dad!” Ian said quickly. “No, they will both need us, particularly at this time!”

Howard glanced at his son. Fifteen year-olds didn’t normally think like this about school chums. Or did they?

They arrived home and Ian went straight to the phone as his father put the car away.
 

*          *          *
 
Vanessa was on the loo when the phone rang, so Simone answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Ian?”

“Yeah. I just got home.”

Simone thought he sounded breathless and excited about something.

“Oh, did your Dad tell you?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“I’m really good.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even your voice has changed. You sound brilliant.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what do I call you?”

“Simone seems logical.”

“Okay, Simone, I like that name.”

“Thanks. It’s pretty weird though, being a girl all of a sudden.”

“I bet you’re so pretty!”

“Ian, you don’t sound surprised at all!” Simone said.

“I’m not. I’ve been praying that something like this would happen.”

“Why?”

“You know why!”

Simone made a mental note to ask her mother what the hell really went on behind her back.

“Well, you’ll see me tomorrow,” she said, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know and I can’t wait. Dad told me about your Dad, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, it has sort of come as a surprise as well.”

“How’s your mum?”

“She’s fine, just coming to terms with all the surprises, I suppose.”

“How did she take it?”

“Which, my Dad or me?”

“You.”

“Okay. I think it surprised her, but she’d pleased. It’ll wear off when I start borrowing her clothes.”

Ian laughed. He was so happy to hear her sounding just like the girl in the play, but more real, if that was possible.

“Dad says you won’t be coming back.”

“How can I? It’s a boys’ school, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, I suppose so. You’ve still got stuff here.”

“I know. We’ll have to come up and get it.”

“Do you think they’d take girls and let you come back?”

“Why? Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would.”

“I don’t think it would work. Everyone knew me as a boy, they’d all tease me.”

“No, they wouldn’t, I wouldn’t let them.”

“Ian, you are so sweet, but they would. I know boys, I was one once, remember?”

“No, I don’t think you ever were a real boy.”

“They don’t know that!”

“They’d understand.”

“I don’t think they would. But it doesn’t matter, they don’t take girls, do they?”

“They would if they knew how well you got on!”

“Look, this is an expensive call, does your dad know you’re ringing me?”

“No. I just want to say, I’m still here as a friend, if you ever need one,” Ian said.

Simone started to cry and couldn’t speak.

“Simone? Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine!” she lied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yup.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

She put the phone down and turned to see her mother watching her.

“Ian?”

Simone nodded, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

“Why the tears?”

“He as so sweet. He just told me that if I ever needed a friend, he was there for me. What did you do, Mum?”

Vanessa came and hugged the girl, smiling.

“Nothing, I promise. I didn’t have to - he did all the work. I just found it easier to sort of think like a girl when I did the play readings, and I must have been more convincing than I thought.”

“He wanted me to go back to school. I told him it wouldn’t work and that I’d get teased. He said he wouldn’t let anyone tease me. Why is he like this? He hasn’t met me like this yet.”

“I really don’t know, sweetie, I don’t think I was a boy long enough. I know they seem far less complex and scheming than girls of the same age, but as for what makes them tick, you’ll have a better idea than me.”

“Not when it comes to sex, Mum, I never got that far,” Simone said, and then added with a smile, “In either guise!”

“Thank God!” Vanessa said, giving the girl a hug.
 
 
Chapter 18
 
 
“How about this one?”

“It’s one of my favourites, but it’s a little old for you,” Vanessa said.

“Okay, the green one, then?”

“It’s very nice, it certainly brings out the auburn in your hair.”

“I wish my hair was longer!”

“Then you should have thought about it in the machine.”

“There was too much to think about. Besides, it’ll grow.”

They were in Vanessa’s room, and Simone was trying on some of her mother’s clothes.

“I think you should go for the black skirt with that green silk blouse. It is more your age and accentuates your wonderfully slender waist.”

“You figure is almost the same as mine.”

“No dear, you have a much more lithe and slender figure, even if you have a very generous bust for your age!”

Simone blushed and grinned as she self-consciously raised her hands to the offending items.

She then dressed in the suggested clothes, and stood before her mother.

“Well?”

“You’ll need some tights, it’s chilly.”

“What about shoes?”

Vanessa selected a pair of shoes with two-inch heels.

“Why not higher? I’m used to them.”

“Simone, you are supposed to be thirteen, so girls your age just don’t vamp about in stilettos.”

Vanessa watched as Simone applied a little discreet makeup, and together they styled her short hair into something vaguely feminine by using some gel.

“What about nail varnish?” Simone asked.

“What about it?”

“Should I wear it?”

“If you want. I suggest a subdued colour or a sparkly type, as befits your age.”

“Boring!” Simone said, and rooted through the varnishes until she found something her mother agreed was appropriate.

“You really are stunning,” Vanessa said.

“Like mother, like daughter.”

“I like having a daughter.”

“Better than a son?”

“Just different. I feel closer to you now.”

“Mummy, we are closer than any two people in the world.”

They both smiled and went down to the kitchen.

“Put an apron on, I don’t want my clothes buggered up.”

“Already in hand, Mummy dearest,” said Simone, tying an apron round her middle.

They worked well together, preparing the vegetables, putting the joint in the oven and making the pudding. Vanessa showed Simone how to slice and prepare the apple, make pastry, roll it properly and finish the pie with milk and pastry shapes.

“You have no idea how nervous I am about meeting Howard. I’m sure he’ll smell a rat!”

“Oh Mummy, don’t be so silly, he won’t have a clue. He’s a man!”

“So?”

“He’ll just be happy that you are pleased to see him. Just remember, when he kisses, he likes to grab your bum.”

“Simone!”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Be a nun?”

“You could have been a little more reserved.”

“I was reserved, otherwise I’d have gone to bed with him.”

“Oh, my God, I’ve raised a whore!”

“No, you haven’t, I was being you and acting as natural as possible. I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done. I could ‘feel’ what I was doing was in keeping with your character, don’t ask me how I knew, I just got a feel of what to do and not do - I was in your head, after all.”

“Hmm, I know what you mean. I sort of felt what was right and wrong when I was you. Weird, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I liked being you, and to be honest would have been happy to remain so. But I’m awfully pleased with this result!”

The Jamiesons arrival curtailed their conversation. Simone was about to go rushing out to greet them, but was stopped by her mother.

“Simone, never rush, let him come to you!”

“Why?”

“Then he feels he’s in control. Yet, you know that you are really in control.”

Howard parked the car and the pair of them walked towards the front door. Ian reached out to ring the bell when the door opened. He stared, his mouth open, as Simone smiled at him.

“Hi Ian, you’re early, come on in. Hello Mr Jamieson, Mum’s just putting her face on, she won’t be long.”

Both Ian and Howard stared at Simone. Neither could actually believe the difference in her in the few days since they’d last seen her. Ian in particular couldn’t take his eyes from her ample bosom.

“Gracious, how the hell could anyone mistake you for a boy?” asked Howard, to which Simone giggled delightfully.

“I have to confess, even I thought I was a boy. These are a recent development, as is the plumbing downstairs.”

Both the Jamiesons felt acutely embarrassed and were more than happy to be ushered into the house.

“Sling your coats on the newel post, and I’ll get you a drink. Howard, single malt, yes?”

“That would be lovely, thank you Simone.”

“Ian, what would you like?”

“A Coke please, Simone.”

“Go through to the sitting room, I’ll get your drinks.”

She went into the small bar cupboard off the dining room. Her father had insisted on this feature, and it had a small basin and a fridge as well as a well stocked bar.

She poured their drinks and returned to the sitting room. They were obviously talking about her, as they looked embarrassed again and went quiet on her arrival.

“Oh, I know, you’re both surprised and shocked at what I look like. You can speak to me about it, you know?”

“No, it’s not that, well, maybe, a bit. But I was just saying how pretty you are,” Ian said, blushing.

Vanessa came to his rescue by walking in.

Simone watched Howard, as soon as he saw her, his expression melted into a smile. To her delight, her mother returned it and kissed him warmly on the cheek.

“Howard, how lovely to see you again. I’m so sorry about all the mixed messages I seemed to have given you, but as you may now realise, my life has been somewhat complicated of late.”

“So I see, I honestly had no idea. Isn’t she like you?” he said.

“Do you think so?”

“Oh yes, she could be your younger sister.”

Vanessa blushed and Simone giggled again.

Simone turned to Ian. “Let’s leave them to it, come into the kitchen and talk to me while I turn the potatoes,” she told him.

He followed her out willingly, taking his glass of beer with him. He watched her as she put on the apron and took the roasting tray containing the potatoes out of the oven. She used a carving fork to turn them, and looked up.

“Well?” she asked.

“What?”

“Say something. I mean, now you have me on my own and the way you wanted, I thought at least you’d say something.”

“I had all sorts of things ready to ask you and now I find I can’t remember any of them. I know I imagined how you’d look as a girl, but I never dreamed you’d be this beautiful!”

Simone blushed and smiled at him.

“You are silly!”

“No, I’m not. I knew there was something about you. There was no way you could have been a boy. Even though you played rugger, you were just so different.”

“Ian, I wasn’t different. I was a boy, I thought I was, and so did everyone else. Things happened and I had a choice to make. I made my choice and I now have to live with it.”

“How do you mean?”

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m sorted now and I have to get used to being a girl for the rest of my life. What I was and how I managed to change isn’t really important any more, is it?”

Ian nodded, his eyes flicking towards her chest.

“How come you’ve managed to, um, well to be as, um, you know, um, big as you are? I mean, I only saw you a few days ago, and you seemed normal then.”

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Well, it seems that my condition was dormant, but I got some help from a nutty professor that mum knew at university. Do you think these are too big?”

Ian, staring at her tits legitimately this time, shook his head.

“No, they look perfect to me. How big should they be?”

“I don’t know. Mummy says they shouldn’t be this big at my age. What do you think, do I look thirteen?”

Ian stared at her, a frown on his face. He really did look very like his father.

“No, not that I know that many thirteen year olds. You look nearer twenty, to me.”

Simone smiled and looked serious for a moment.

“If I was allowed to come back to Ketterham, do you think they’d give me a hard time?” she asked.

“You’d come back?”

“The head is trying to persuade the governors to agree to make Ketterham co-ed. I’m just worried I’d be teased and have my life made a misery.”

He took a long look at her. Taking a long look at her hourglass figure, her long legs and exceptionally pretty face.

“No, I don’t think anyone would tease you. Most wouldn’t actually twig you’re the same person.”

“How do you mean?”

“Simone, if I didn’t know you, I’d never recognise you as being Simon Williamson, so what does it matter you are now Simone Williamson?”

“I’m not, I’m Simone Strickland. My mother is adopting her maiden name, so I am too.”

“If she married Dad, you’d be Simone Jamieson.”

“Only if he adopts me. Besides, what makes you think she will?”

“He’s mad over her, and I saw them kissing once. I think she more than likes him.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” she said.

“What question?” he asked, confused.

“Should I go back to Ketterham, if they ask me, that is?”

“Yes!”

“That was too quick and personal, in my opinion,” she said, ruefully.

“Maybe, but think of the play. How much more can you give as a real girl?”

“Okay, maybe, but I can’t play on the wing for the junior colts any more, can I?”

“Why not?”

“They won’t let a girl play rugger. Not that they’d be afraid I’d get hurt, although that’s the excuse they’d give. No, they couldn’t cope if I scored a try and made their little darlings seem not as good as a girl.”

Ian chuckled and had to agree.

“Okay, this is all nearly ready. Let’s go back to the parents,”

“Simone?”

“What?”

“Seriously, no one would ever guess you were the same person.”

“Why not?”

“You probably don’t see it, but you look and sound so totally different.”

“Really?”

“Look, the only time you practised being a girl for the play was when we were alone, so no one else will ever know. You are such a beautiful girl, no one would ever think you were a boy.”

“Thanks, I need to be told that.”

“Simone, I’d never tell anyone, either.”

“Thanks. I need all the friends I can get.”

“I’ll always be there for you,” Ian said, quietly and earnestly.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks,” she said and went back to the sitting room. She smiled, as Ian was very like his father.

Ian stood there for a moment, touching his cheek with his hand. At that moment, he lost his heart completely.

Several times during the meal, Howard felt confused. He was having a conversation with Simone, and for some reason he called her Nessa. She giggled as he realised his mistake, but it alarmed him that they were as similar as they were. It wasn’t just the looks, for clearly there was no doubt as to their genetic proximity, it was everything else as well. Their voices, mannerisms, inflections and sense of humour, were all so similar to make it like talking to identical twins, separated by one generation.

His main confusion was the level of maturity displayed by young Simone. He knew she was in reality a year and a half younger than Ian, yet she looked and behaved several years older. Her conversation and awareness of life was not that of a girl her age and he felt as if he was with someone much older.

Ian, however, was totally captivated by the younger girl. All his disquiet evaporated as he watched her interact with her mother and his father. If anything, he felt slightly inferior to this sophisticated and bubbly girl. Whereas Simon had been very much his junior at school, he felt Simone had caught him up and overtaken him overnight.

It was a lovely meal. The food was good and wholesome. Howard immediately saw in Vanessa a much better housekeeper than his ex-wife and that made him more determined than ever to press forward with his suit.

Although quite cold, it was dry, so after lunch they went for a walk along a footpath and through a local wood. With coats, hats and scarves, they enjoyed getting some fresh air and exercise. They met several other walkers and Howard wondered how many of these strangers saw them as a happy family group.

“Vanessa?”

“Yes.”

“Have you given any more thought to what I asked you a little while ago?”

Vanessa met Simone’s eyes and smiled.

“Yes Howard, I have. As I said before, I’m honoured and flattered that you feel as strongly as you do. Yet I still feel that I need a period of stability before I make any momentous decisions. I also need to try to gauge my own feelings. I hope you understand.”

Howard did, feeling, if anything, more respect for this courageous and incredibly attractive woman.

“I do understand, Vanessa, and I hope you’ll forgive my impatience.”

She took his hand and smiled. “I do Howard. I just need to settle down and attain some form of normality. Don’t give up on me, there’s a love.”

Howard had no intention of doing so. He was so attentive and caring that Vanessa was disarmed.

Simone smiled at her mother as they met one and other’s eyes. Howard and Ian left just after tea, leaving Vanessa wondering what her Nessa had done to the man. As soon as they’d gone, she took her daughter to task, demanding exactly what had happened in great detail. Simone told her about the dinners and was about to explain further when the telephone rang, interrupting their discussion.

Vanessa answered it, and as soon as she heard her mother’s voice, her heart sank. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten all about her mother.

Catherine Strickland lived in the house she and her husband had built some forty years previously, just after they married. Roger, her husband, died in a riding accident three years ago. He was part of the Cottesmore Hunt and fell from his horse whilst hunting in Leicestershire.

Vanessa had two brothers. The elder, David, still farmed his father’s farm, while the younger, William, was an officer in the Royal Navy, currently on board HMS Defiant in the Gulf. Vanessa was neatly sandwiched between the two, and hadn’t seen either much over the last few months. David because he was very busy and William because he wasn’t in the country.

“Vanessa, darling, you haven’t called me in ages. I read in a paper somewhere that your awful ex-husband was no more. When were you going to tell me?”

“This evening, Mummy, it’s not the only bit of news. Life has been quite, um, well to be honest, it’s been bloody harrowing and to be frank, you were not high on my list of people to call.”

Catherine was stunned into unaccustomed silence.

“I’m sorry, Mummy, but you and your little world up there is so far removed from what’s been going on down here, I had neither the time nor the inclination to phone you and update you. To be honest, Richard and his bloody dealings have not been the most pressing problems we’ve had. But, in answer to your question, he’s dead, and so I am finally free of the conniving bastard.”

“You said ‘we’, what’s happened to Simon?”

“Well, where do you want me to start?”

“How about the beginning?”

“Well, it started when I got a call from Simon’s Headmaster…..

…..and so the specialist said she’d always been a girl, but due to a mistake when she was a baby, she’d been wrongly sexed, so without knowing it we brought her up as a boy.”

“Twaddle!”

“What?”

“I said ‘twaddle’, Vanessa, I bathed that little boy when he was a baby. I had two boys so I know a boy when I see one. So, what really happened?”

Vanessa sighed.

“Even if I told you, Mother, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me!”

“Okay, when I was bringing Simon home, we were involved in a car accident….

…..and then, when we changed back, Simon decided he didn’t want to go back to being a boy. So, you now have a normal granddaughter called Simoné.”

Once more Catherine was completely silent.

“Mummy?”

“You’re telling me that she was you, and she was involved with the police when Richard was up to his tricks?”

“Yes, she was.”

“May I speak to the girl?”

“Hang on, I’ll get her.”

Vanessa took the phone and found Simone in the small sitting room watching TV. She handed her the phone.

“Hello?”

“All right, young lady, tell me how and why?”

“No, I don’t think I can, Granny. I just know that for the first time in my life, I’m truly content!”

“Thank God for that. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do now.”

“So, tell me about your father.”

Simone did, leaving nothing out, except for the fact the man was still alive.

“So, you managed that with your mother being you in your school?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must always have been a female at heart, for a boy would have never managed all that. Welcome to the club, my darling!”
 
 
Chapter 19
 
 
Mr Carter strode onto the dais in the large assembly room. It was the final assembly of the Christmas term, and there was an atmosphere of eager anticipation in the room. The Carol Service was that very afternoon and immediately afterwards the term officially ended.

“This has been a good term,” he said. “We have seen more victories on the rugby pitch than ever before. We have achieved a first class standard in the classroom and in every aspect of school life. We’ve seen some sadness, and a couple of our boys have had to leave due to family circumstances. However, I have a piece of momentous news, and news that is, in my opinion, the most dramatic ever to occur at Ketterham Court.

“I am pleased to announce that the board of governors met last week, and have agreed that as from the beginning of the next year, that is next September, Ketterham will for the first time admit girls in all levels of the school.

“As a pilot scheme, there will be eight girls starting next term, just to start the ball rolling. Three will be joining the Third form and five the Fourth form. As numbers have dwindled, the houses of Nelson and Livingstone will amalgamate into one house, under the name of Nelson. A brand new house, Astor, will become the first girls’ house. Letters have been sent out to all parents and it is anticipated that by September at least fifty girls will be starting their time here.

“It is hoped that in the next three to five years, a second girls’ house will be opened. We shall decide its name nearer the time. This is a courageous move by our governors, who have a vision of this school progressing into the twenty-first century as a thriving and successful school, undaunted by the changes in society. We will adapt as dictated by those changes and our young people will be more than prepared for their adult lives in our nation.”

For once, there was more than a little interest in Mr Carter’s closing speech of the year. The upper Sixth were unaffected, as they would all be gone by the time the next September arrived. However, the younger boys were suddenly curious to know what these girls were going to be like. As they left the hall, there was much speculation as to the degrees of pulchritude of the few girls that were due to start the following term.

Ian kept quiet, silently hoping that one Simone Strickland was going to be one of them.

Vanessa arranged for all Simon’s kit to be boxed for collection. As far as the boys were concerned, they had more or less forgotten him already. A few days before, she had received a call from Jacob Carter. He informed her of the governors’ decision and, in the end, she relented as he persuaded her to send Simone back to the school.

“In the final analysis the financial situation had already persuaded the governors to make the move. I didn’t need to mention Simone at all. There have been so many enquiries that they have asked me to select eight girls as a pilot scheme for the last two terms of this scholastic year. Please allow your daughter to be one of them?”

He understood that Vanessa was now using her maiden name, and so Simone would now have the surname Strickland.

“The first eight girls are attending an assessment day next week. Would Simone be willing to attend? That way she would be starting from scratch and no one would ever connect her to young Simon Williamson.”

Therefore, it was that on the same day that the announcement was made, any boy happening to be looking out of a north-facing window at eleven a.m. would have seen eight girls arrive with their parents.

Ian was one such boy. He saw Simone and was confused, as the woman accompanying her was not Vanessa. He watched as they went into the main building and try as he could, he couldn’t see anything of Simon in her. Although her features were more or less the same, somehow her expression and whole demeanour made her into a completely different person. For a start, she seemed taller, and there was no doubt her chest made all the difference.

Mr Carter welcomed the girls to the school and then asked to sit and complete an hour’s paper on general knowledge and current affairs. Their reports from their previous schools had already been sent ahead, with the exception of Simone’s, as her case was somewhat different.

Simone glanced round the other girls. All, like her, were dressed in smart skirts, blouses and cardigans in neutral colours, such as blues and greens. The first thing that she realised was that she looked the eldest, or certainly the most physically mature. The two other third formers looked much younger than Simone, who looked older even than the prospective fourth formers.

At the conclusion of their assessment, the girls were given a tour of the facilities. Unbeknown to Simone, her assessment sheet was subject of much discussion by the head of English and the History master, Mr Griffiths and Mr Davey.

Jacob deliberately kept out of their discussion, as he had simply told them that her reports from her ‘previous school’ were exceptional.

“Jacob, I believe this girl ought to be in the fourth form, as her literacy and understanding of current affairs is far in excess of that I would expect of a third former,” Mr Griffiths said.

“I agree, as she has a real understanding of politics and the power plays amongst the Middle Eastern nations. Her handwriting, grammar and general standard of work are simply superb. She may be only thirteen, but I feel she would be wasted in the third form.”

“Jacob, if she was placed in the third form, she would make the boys look even worse than they really are, can we place her in the year above? If it doesn’t work out, then we have two terms in which to sort her out.”

“If she goes into the fourth form, this is the first year for GCSEs, is she ready for it with such short notice?” Jacob asked.

“You’ve seen her reports from her previous school, what is she like?”

Jacob knew that Simon was exceptionally bright. However, had he been a more mature boy he may well have been elevated to the fourth year. Due to his young physical and emotional age, he hadn’t been.

The three men saw Simone as she walked back into the cafeteria following the school secretary on their tour of the school. The girl looked far older than her thirteen years and they unanimously agreed to elevate her to the year above.

Ian was sitting in the cafeteria with a couple of friends. He glanced up as the girls came in. Silence descended on the large and usually chaotic room.

All male eyes swivelled towards the door and the school secretary blushed. She felt embarrassed on behalf of the girls.

Ian’s eyes met Simone’s and both smiled at the same time. Kipper Blake, sitting at the next table with Splodge was quite effusive with his voluble opinion.

“Shit, look at the tits on the tall girl!”

Simone was nearly three inches taller than the others and Ian thought she looked wonderful. Her hair was still quite short, but it had been specially cut and styled to enhance the shape of her face. The auburn colour glowed and the tinge of gold seemed to make her shine.

The girls were encouraged to collect their food and sat together at a table a short distance away from where Ian sat. Simone appeared to have no difficulty in mixing with the others and no one had the faintest idea that she was the same person as Simon Williamson.

Ian stood up and walked over to them.

Simone saw him coming. She looked up and smiled.

“Hello Ian, how are you?”

“Hi Simone, I’m so pleased to see you here. I hoped you’d make it!”

The other girls were faintly jealous, as this tall and quite hunky boy obviously knew Simone.

“Are you coming here, then?” he asked, almost saying — ‘are you coming back?’

“I don’t know. It’s up to the headmaster and those who mark the assessment paper.”

“You had to do a paper?” he asked, surprised.

“All girls coming here for the first time have to,” she replied, emphasising the latter half of the sentence.

“Oh, I suppose so.”

The Head, Mr Davey and Mr Griffiths approached to the girls.

“Ah, getting to know your way around?” Jacob asked. The girls all smiled and nodded. All seemed quite shy, for well they might, as at that moment, and for most of the previous ten minutes, they had been subject to more male scrutiny than most of them had experienced in their short lifetimes. The only one who appeared totally at ease was Simone, who appeared to have made one new friend already.

“Ah, Jamieson, getting to know our prospective new girls?”

“Yes sir, or rather, Simone and I already know each other, sir.”

Jacob looked at the boy, almost immediately reading the nature of the lad’s feelings for the attractive girl.

“Quite, well that’s a bonus. At least she’ll know someone in her new form.”

Ian and Simone frowned.

“In fact, all the girls will be joining us. Sarah and Jane are to join the third form and Lucy, Simone, Poppy, Natasha, Samantha and Rose will all be in the fourth form.

“Sir, I thought I was joining the third form?” Simone asked, still frowning in confusion.

“No, your previous school reports and your assessment paper indicate that you will be more at home in the fourth form, young lady,” said Mr Griffiths. Jacob just smiled as he watched the reactions of the two young people.

“Sir, now that Williamson isn’t here any more, would it be possible for Simone to take on the role of Julia in the Junior play? We live near each other and could rehearse in the holidays.”

Mr Griffiths was taken aback at the speed at which young Ian Jamieson was seeking the now vacant part for the attractive auburn-haired girl. However, it made sense, so he agreed without much hesitation.

“If she’d like to. Jamieson, you can’t just assume because you happen to know the girl, she’ll automatically want to leap into such a venture with both feet. Would you like to take on the role, Miss Strickland?”

“I’d love to. My mother was involved in drama at university and everyone says we are very alike.”

“Excellent! Well, you can talk about that later, the girls are now coming over to the school office where their parents can be given the good news and we can all discuss the arrangements for next term.”

As soon as the girls left, Ian was bombarded by questions.

“Who is she?”

“How long have you known her?”

“What’s her name?”

“Is she coming here?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

The last question made him look at the questioner. It was Roddy Hamilton, a friend from his house in the same form.

“Yes, Roddy, she is,” he heard his voice answer before his brain had an opportunity to engage properly.

There was a moment’s shocked silence.

“You lucky bastard, imagine having your girlfriend in the same form,” said one.

“Imagine having your girlfriend in the same bed,” said another voice, amongst much laughter.

Ian smiled as he imagined just that. He didn’t know what to do with her, but it’d be fun finding out.
 

*          *          *
 
Vanessa had deliberately kept a low profile, as some people in the school knew her by sight already. Roz had very kindly taken Simone to school. She had been bowled over when they announced the news of Simone’s ‘real’ gender, as had Alicia, who was secretly delighted as she was happier having Simone as a girl friend than just another boy she knew.

Roz had phoned for a chat and asked how Vanessa was getting on. Vanessa had to explain about Simone and her transformation. Roz had been over like a shot, bringing Alicia with her.

On walking into the house, unannounced as usual, they’d met Simone coming down stairs. Dressed in a tight pair of jeans and a pink top, she looked every inch the pretty teenager she now was.

“Hi Aunt Roz, Alicia. Well, what do you think?” she asked, raising her arms and giving them a twirl.

Simone’s physical development shocked both of them, as the girl had already outstripped Alicia and made the poor girl seem quite dowdy by comparison.

“Oh my God! How?” Roz asked, as Vanessa came out from the kitchen.

Alicia and Simone disappeared up to Simone’s room, and let Vanessa update her friend. They had the gender condition story off pat now. Vanessa had sent off the letters to relevant registrars, in order to correct Simone’s records.

Alicia was speechless in Simone’s presence.

“Come on, Alicia, we’ve known each other so long! Please tell me what you think.”

“I can’t believe this. I only saw you a couple of weeks ago, and now, like this, it’s unreal!”

“Do I look awful?”

“Not at all, you look wonderful. In fact you don’t look like you at all.”

“Not at all?”

“No. I mean, a bit, as your face is sort of the same, but it isn’t!”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I can see underneath there’s a similarity, like you’re Simon’s older sister or something. But it’s your body that is out of this world! How did you grow that much so quickly?” she said staring at Simoné’s firm bosom, very narrow waist and gently curving hips.

Simone smiled and shrugged.

“The specialist says that my body had been changing from the inside for some time. I simply had a growing spurt and filled out in all the right places.”

“Right places? Simone, you’ve an amazing figure! You’re so like your mother, it’s uncanny.”

Simone just smiled knowingly.

So, at the school, Roz played the dutiful godmother and no one suspected the truth. She chatted with the other parents, all of which believed she was the mother of the tall attractive girl. She didn’t put them right, as she found the whole thing hilarious. Never actually admitting to being Simone’s mother, nobody challenged her, so no one was any the wiser.

As they were driving back, Roz glanced at Simone. For a moment she believed that Vanessa was sitting beside her.

“You are so like your mother!”

Simone smiled.

“Everyone says that, I like it, it’s a compliment.”

“I can’t believe the change in you. Are you happier like this?”

“As a girl, you mean? Yes, it’s like a dream come true. It wasn’t as if I was desperate to be a girl, but when it happened, I felt I belonged.”

“I just can’t believe how quick it happened. I mean, one minute, you were Simon and the next, you were big, bouncy and beautiful, and Simon is nowhere to be seen. Did you have no idea at all?”

“None. Physically, what I had was almost normal. It was inside I had changed the most, and then the outside shifted to come into line. There’s a tribe in Africa that the boys all look like girls until puberty, I was just the other way around.”

“I think it is so strange, you going back to the same school as a girl. Won’t they know you?”

“I don’t think so. I wasn’t there very long, just a few weeks. Besides, I’m going into a higher form, so no one will know me there.”

“What about young thingy?”

“You mean Ian Jamieson?”

“That’s the one. What about him, does he know?”

“Yes, he does and I think he fancies me, so that’s a different type of problem.”

Roz was quiet for a moment as she flung the large four by four down some narrow lanes. Simone smiled as she realised she could drive better than Roz. Hell, an octogenarian paraplegic could drive better than Roz!

Roz stopped the car in a spray of gravel, as always, and Vanessa was out of the house before the last few stones had fallen back to earth.

“Well?”

“I’m in, but I’ve to go up a year. They thought my paper was too mature for the third form.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes, it means I won’t be in the same year group, so they won’t know me so well.”

“I’m still worried, what if someone twigs?”

“Then I’ll have to deal with it, but I don’t think they will and Alicia doesn’t either.”

“Well, my love, time will tell.”
 
 
Chapter 20
 
 
Christmas was cold, but with no snow, it was hard to get into the real spirit of the event. The previous Christmas had been a complete non-event for Vanessa and Simon, but this year was happier.

With the mortgage paid off and some funds in the bank, things were looking up. Howard and Ian went north for Christmas to his parents in Scotland. Howard asked Vanessa if she wanted to join them. She declined, saying that she needed some space and time to think about everything.

In the end, she and Simone had a very quiet day, eating a lasagne and some apple pie and watching all the weepy films together on the sofa with a box of tissues. With Richard out of the picture, they were both able to look forward instead of backwards. Vanessa appreciated her daughter in a way she had never realised. To be able to cry together was something she hadn’t felt able to do with Simon.

Vanessa made an agreement with Simone, so after Christmas, they went by train into London and spent far too much in the sales. At last, Simone had a wardrobe of which she could be proud. Vanessa was relieved that she wouldn’t keep stealing all her best clothes. In fact, they’d both accumulated some new clothes and many were interchangeable. Simone’s taste was impressed upon her by her time as Nessa that she liked clothes designed for the older girl, not the teenager. However, peer pressure as it was, some items like jeans, short skirts and tops she bought, just so she wouldn’t seem too out of place.
 

*          *          *
 
Eddie McDonagh was not a happy man. He was on remand inside Belmarsh Prison and his future looked very bleak indeed. His solicitor brought him news that made him even unhappier.

“The police have seized all your off-shore assets. Somehow they’ve got details of everything you had.”

“Everything?”

“Almost. There are some funds in the Cayman island account.”

“How much?”

“Just over the million.”

“Richard fucking Williamson!”

“Probably, but he’s dead!”

“He’s family ain’t!”

“So?”

“Bobby, it’s time to seek retribution.”

“Of what nature?”

“My life is fucked, so why not fuck theirs?”

Robert Wiseman cringed internally. He’d been paid, and paid well. Even so, the prospect of a lengthy conspiracy trial, followed by costly appeals would see him up to retirement. However, Fast Eddie was not a pleasant man.

“I assume by ‘fuck’ you mean some form of physical intervention?”

Eddie grinned evilly.

“Like permanent inter-fucking-vention!”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“What?”

“To initiate violent action against his family would not achieve anything. Besides, the ones in this country were left with nothing when he buggered off with his fancy woman. If you were to, how should I say, arrange for the, ah, separation of the latest edition to the Williamson clan, and ask for say, a million New Zealand dollars in exchange for her release, then you would start to recoup some of those losses. By not initiating action in this country you would, at least in part, not draw undue attention to yourself as a suspect. Being incarcerated would seem an ideal alibi, in any case.”

Eddie grinned again.

“That’s what I love about you, Bobby mate, you’ve got class. Who have I got left I can trust, is Stan still in the clear?”

“Some of your, ah, North London associates are still, how would you say, ah, free to undertake contracts, and Stanley Butcher is one of them, I believe.”

“Pass the word, then. I’ll leave the details up to you.”

“Me? My word, Eddie, I don’t do things like that. I will deliver a letter and see he understands. I can’t abuse my position.”

“You fucking hypocrite, Bobby, you’re as much a villain as me, so don’t give me all that shit. I can bury you if I fucking wanted to, so cut the crap!”

Robert Wiseman arched his eyebrows, but said nothing. The problem with associating with criminals was that one inexorably became as they were over time. He nodded, accepting that he as too deep to be able to extricate himself. The advantage was that people like Eddie would always need a solicitor.

“I will speak to Mr Butcher.”

“Good. Now, have you heard who the judge is yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

“I have some filth on a couple. They used a few of my girls some years back and I’ve some tasty photographs. A nice technical dismissal would go down well, and then the fucking Old Bill would have to return my fucking cash, wouldn’t they?”

Robert shook his head. Eddie had no compunction in blackmailing a senior judge, threatening jurors, or even removing witnesses permanently. However, his ability to reach out from Belmarsh was severely restricted now. Notwithstanding Eddie’s imagination and ability to maintain old contacts, Robert Wiseman was beginning to feel he had hoisted his flag to the wrong mast.
 

*          *          *
 
Susannah and Gerry arrived back at Heathrow a week after Richard had left Britain for good under his new name. They planned to sell the hotel, move to South island where, as Richard and Susannah Clark, they were buying a small bungalow. Richard had a job in a local insurance office, leaving his wife to look after their daughter. He remained behind as Gerry took his daughter back for a two-week visit to Britain.

Gerry had brought his daughter home to show his wife their first grandchild. He secretly hoped she’d not want to return to New Zealand. Susannah was still travelling under her maiden name of McCallum, so she had only to have her baby put onto her passport at the British consulate.

As they left Heathrow in Gerry’s car, he told her they were going to drop in on some good friends.

It was with some alarm, therefore, when he pulled up outside Vanessa’s home, that Susannah realised just who those friends were.

Gerry was bamboozled when Simone answered the door. He knew Vanessa had a son, but wasn’t aware of any siblings.

“Don’t frown so, Gerry, it’s me, Simone, except I was a little different the last time you saw me.”

“I’m sorry, have we met?”

“I’m Simone. You knew me as Simon.”

The last time he had seen her - she had been a he and played a good game of rugby. There was no doubting the gender of this young woman.

She invited them in, taking them into the kitchen.

“Mum’s not here at the moment, she’s gone to sort out some legal stuff with the solicitor. How are you, Gerry? I take it that this is Dad’s new wife and my half-sister?”

“I’m sorry, yes, you’ve completely thrown me, I had all this planned. How in God’s name did you suddenly become a girl?”

“It seems I had a gender condition that was confusing. This is the real me,” she said, looking at the baby in Susannah’s arms.

“Simone, right, this is my daughter Susannah and wee Gail. You’re right, I suppose she is your half sister.”

Simone looked at the woman who had stolen her father. She was quite pretty, but shorter and less slender than she expected. She had tied back her fair hair into a ponytail and she looked tired.

“You’re tired, would you like some tea?” she asked.

“Aye, that would be good,” said Gerry. He watched the girl and shook his head.

“Are ye sure you’re not an older sister, for I can’t reconcile ye as a laddie.”

“What do you want me to say? This is a time of all manner of strange things. I mean, Dad’s dead and yet he’s not. I’m a girl and yet I haven’t always been; who knows what tricks are up life’s sleeve?”

She made them tea and offered them biscuits.

“Are you going back to him?” she asked Susannah.

Gerry laughed at her openness.

“I, I think so. Why?” Susannah asked, her voice trembling. She didn’t understand half the conversation that went on, staring at the confident and strikingly pretty girl who had just given her some tea.

“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t need to be afraid of us. You have my sympathy, that’s all,” Simone said. “I only hope he’s learned his lesson. Best you don’t tell him about me.”

“About you?”

“He still thinks I’m a boy. Best we keep it that way, otherwise things will get even more complicated. I know he’s not allowed back, or to contact us, but Dad’s not very good at keeping promises. This way, I reckon he’ll not find me even if he wanted to.”

They heard the sound of a car arriving. Vanessa came in and immediately looked at Simone, who nodded imperceptibly.

Gerry gasped as he saw mother and daughter together. They were more like identical twin sisters than parent and child. Vanessa’s obvious maturity was evident, but Simone could easily pass for a girl in her early twenties.

“Seeing you together, I wonder how such a mistake could have been made. But I saw you as Simon and ye looked a normal lad to me!”

Simone just smiled.

Gerry introduced Susannah to Vanessa and the younger woman was now seriously troubled. She had imagined a harridan of a wife, hideous or emotionally cold. She didn’t expect her to be strikingly attractive, relaxed and charming. If he left a woman like this, then how could she possibly expect him to stay with her?

It was Simone who seemed to read her thoughts.

“Dad had a mini-breakdown, something like the male menopause. He couldn’t cope with Mum being the organised and efficient type. He likes being in control, being able to exercise his powers and Mum wasn’t giving him what he wanted. I was away at school and he felt redundant. Also, he was a complete arse, so I just hope he’s learned his lesson.”

Vanessa smiled, but Gerry could see the strain this visit was causing the older woman. Simone was far more relaxed and even asked to hold Gail who, at eight months, was at that aware stage.

Vanessa saw her daughter holding a baby and it was almost too much. She broke down in tears and she and Susannah embraced. Simone looked up at Gerry and smiled.

“Blokes couldn’t do this!” she said and he chuckled, wiping a tear away surreptitiously.

Sworn to secrecy over Simone’s new persona, the pair soon left for Scotland after their brief visit. Vanessa was feeling quite confused.

“I thought I’d hate her,” she said.

“It wasn’t her fault. It was his.”

“I know that, Simone, but I still thought I’d hate her. I hated her before I met her. Now I think I just pity her.”

“Hate is a luxury we can’t afford, Mummy, it takes up too much effort, time and is too negative to be useful.”

“Hark at you, the expert,” Vanessa replied.

“I was born out of hate!”

“What?”

“Well, I was. If I hadn’t hated Dad so much, I wouldn’t have wanted to be an adult. If you hadn’t hated what had happened, you wouldn’t have wanted to stop the world and get off. When it happened, we wouldn’t have swapped and I would never have known what being a woman is all about.”

“You still don’t, not really. A few weeks doesn’t a lady make.”

“I accept that, but I came on again this morning, one of my own this time, so there’s no going back now.”
 

*          *          *
 
“Bobby, what news, me old mate?” Eddie asked, as he sat opposite his solicitor. As a prisoner on remand, he was entitled to speak privately to his solicitor. The Prison officers watched them, but were not able to overhear their conversation.

“The younger widow Williamson has returned to the UK with her father. The hotel is for sale and she has come home.”

“Ah, complicated. Gerry McCallum is not a bloke I’d want to cross,” Eddie said.

“It seems that he was involved with the other widow, prior to the shit hitting the proverbial!”

“How do you know that?”

“I have my sources. They were seen together a couple of times. He even went to watch the son play rugby at school.”

“What’s Gerry’s game?”

“I think the same as always, to get his daughter back. He’s not bothered about you, and probably used people to get what he wanted.”

“Are you saying he used me?”

“I’m saying nothing. You simply did what you did and as a result his daughter has come home.”

Eddie was thoughtful.

“Richard would never have had that much balls. McCallum must have put him up to it!”

Wiseman held up a pack of cigarettes so the watching officer could see them. The man waited for him to open the pack and roll the cigarettes onto the table. The box he replaced into his pocket.

Eddie lit up, inhaling deeply.

“I’d fucking given this lark up, did you realise that?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Fucking bastards!”

“Yes, if you say so.”

“The boy, the first bitch’s kid, what’s his name?”

“Simon, why?”

“Is he worth much?”

“No, I don’t think so. There might be some insurance, but nothing like enough.”

“So, this other kid, the baby, is it a boy or what?”

“A girl, not yet a year old.”

“That’s the key. Snatch the baby; get old man McCallum to pay up, or his granddaughter gets snuffed. Two birds with one stone. I get even and some of my dosh back. With a kid that age, no witnesses, it should be a piece of piss. The word will be out that Fast Eddie may be inside, but he’s still in business!”

Robert Wiseman didn’t like the idea, but being the kind of man he was, he said nothing and went on his way. One phone call later, he relaxed. It was out of his hands.

Stanley Butcher put the phone down. He wasn’t an employee of Fast Eddie, but he undertook certain contractual obligations every now and again. He’d come up the hard way with Eddie and, once, Eddie had done him a favour. He didn’t like Eddie, but then Eddie didn’t like him. Affection wasn’t a luxury men like them could afford, as it created inefficient bonds that hampered effective business dealings.

Returning favours was different. Stan owed Eddie, and knew that once this favour was called in, he’d be free of the man.

Stanley didn’t like Wiseman either. He was a lawyer and Stan distrusted lawyers or anyone to do with the legal profession. Wiseman was a tricky man, playing sides whilst it suited him and the money came rolling in. Both men knew that Eddie’s star was waning, and if this venture should fail, Edie’s star would be all but extinguished.

Stan didn’t want to go down for Eddie. Kidnapping wasn’t something that he felt comfortable with, particularly a child under a year old. If he succeeded, then Eddie’s influence would increase, if he failed, both would end up in the dark, brown and pungent.

“I’m going to the pub,” he told his wife, putting on his coat.

He walked out of his flat and down the elevator. Turning left onto City Road, he arrived at the Lord Nelson in fifteen minutes. Lunchtime saw a different crowd than the evenings. A smattering of local City office workers came in for the exotic dancers, though how anyone could think that Rita was exotic any more was beyond him. She’d been ropey ten years ago, and now she was over-weight and about as appealing as a pound of suet.

It must be the novelty factor, because the young men in suits seemed to love her.

Walking up to the bar, he noticed a man sitting on his own in a corner, as far away from the small stage as he could get. He was doing the crossword in his newspaper. Stanley felt relieved when he saw him.

“Orl right, Stan, the usual, mate?” asked Dave, the barman.

“Not bad, Dave. Yeah, the usual and a packet of cheese and onion crisps, please mate.”

He watched the pint of bitter drawn from the keg and licked his lips in anticipation. Dave put the pint on the bar with the packet of crisps.

“Two forty, please.”

He paid Dave and, taking his pint, he went and sat at the next table to the man doing the crossword.

He drank in silence, savouring the ale. Then opening the crisps, he ate as he glanced at the man next to him. The man looked at him.

“Stanley, all right?”

“Yes, thanks, Mr Collins.”

“Keeping clear of trouble?”

“Always, Mr Collins, always.”

The man called Mr Collins smiled, took a sip of his whisky and returned to his crossword. Without looking up, he asked. “What do you know, Stanley?”

“This an’ that, guv’nor, this an’ that.”

“I hear Eddie’s inside.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

“Word is he’s not happy.”

“So I hear.”

Detective Inspector Collins looked up again.

“He’s trouble, that one. The big guns are out to get him.”

“What’re you saying, Mr Collins?”

Collins smiled and took another sip of his whisky.

“How’s Mr Wiseman?” he asked.

Stanley nodded slowly, but his mind was racing. How much did the bastards already know?

“I wouldn’t know, Mr Collins.”

“I hate lawyers, don’t you Stanley?”

Stan nodded and finished his pint.

“I hate bent lawyers even more than straight ones,” the Detective said.

“Are there any straight ones, guv’nor?”

Collins smiled again.

“Good question, Stanley, I very much doubt it,” Collins said, draining his drink. “I hear the OSS is after Mr Wiseman.”

Stanley frowned.

“The OSS is the Law Society’s head hunters,” Collins said, helping him out.

“Oh.”

“Another?” Collins asked, standing up.

“Yeah, ta. Pint of best.”

He watched the policeman go to the bar and buy another whisky and a pint. He had known Collins since he’d been a Detective Constable fifteen years ago. Most lunchtimes saw him in the Lord Nelson and most lunchtimes someone was talking to him. He never sought out anyone, if you wanted to talk to him, he’d be there and always listened. Stan had used him a couple of times and trusted him more than most coppers. He’d even managed to get some informant’s fees for some information about a gang of muggers he’d passed information about.

The man returned and put the pint down.

“Ta.”

Collins picked up the paper and ignored Stanley.

Stanley made a decision.

“Funny you should mention Wiseman, he called me earlier,” he said.

Collins didn’t look up. “Oh yes?”

“It seems he wants a small favour done for our mutual friend.”

Collins looked up.

“Go on.”

“Well, it seems he’s pissed off with someone and wants a small job done.”
 

*          *          *
 
Robert Wiseman left his office at five o’clock and made for the underground station at Bethnal Green. He lived at South Woodford, only a five-minute walk from the station, so it was a simple journey. He read his Evening Standard on the way, having to stand for the first few stops.

He got off the train at his stop, buttoning up his coat as he left the station and found it raining.

“Mr Wiseman.”

He stopped, turning to see who was calling him.

He felt nervous; relaxing when he saw it was only Stan Butcher.

“What do you want?” he asked, testily.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s not my idea and I’m not happy talking about it here.”

“It’s all right for Eddie, he’s already inside, he’s got fuck all to lose. If I get caught it’s fucking ten to fourteen years!”

“I can’t very well tell him you won’t do it. You know what he’s like?”

“Yeah, but a kid, shit, it’s not right. No one does that anymore.”

“It wasn’t my decision. He wants the Williamson kid snatched. How you do it doesn’t matter. Just do it. Then call me and I’ll set up the ransom demands. That way there’s no direct contact with you and the mark.”

“Eddie’s going down anyway, why should I?”

“I understand you owe him?”

“Yeah, but not to the tune of fourteen years!”

“Look he’s got us both, me for money, and you through a favour. Just do it!”

Stan nodded and moved away, down into the station. Wiseman turned and made his way home. He opened the small front gate to his detached house and walked towards the front door.

“Shitty night, Mr Wiseman!” said a voice.

The creeping tendrils of dread plucked at Wiseman’s heart. He knew, with a certainty born out of experience, that the game, if that is what it was, was finally over.

He turned towards the voice.

Detective Inspector Collins walked slowly from the shadows. He was a tall man, slightly overweight, but still in his thirties and still looking very good at what he did. He wore a light brown mid-length coat and no hat. Both men knew each other.

Wiseman tried the bluff.

“Mr Collins, you may be at work, but I’m not. If you wish to talk to me about a professional matter, please call my secretary and arrange an appointment.”

“Bollocks Robert, but you’re right, I am at work. For what I’m here for, I don’t need an appointment. You see, I don’t need a lawyer, but you do!”

Robert Wiseman was arrested and led to a waiting police car. Collins watched the car drive away, and then turning, he returned to his plain car parked up the road a short distance. He got in; Stanley took off the wire, handing it back to Collins.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to give evidence?” he asked.

“He’ll squeal and go for the deal. He’s in the shit and he knows it.”

“Eddie’s got other people, he could still get things done,” Stanley said.

“Like?”

“His brother Frank, he gets out next month.”

“Oh yes, I was forgetting Frank. Eight years for armed Robbery, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think Frank will be a problem. After all, he’s done his time and he won’t want to go back this quickly.”

“Will Wiseman know I shopped him?”

“I don’t know, possibly. Is that a problem?”

“It could be if Eddie finds out.”

“He’ll be more afraid of Eddie than you are. If he’s got any brains, he’ll have kept a file on Eddie to use as insurance. All we do is make sure Eddie finds out about that!”

“You’re a bastard really, aren’t you, Mr Collins?”

“It takes one to know one, Stanley.”

---

 
To Be Continued...

Weird Wednesday by Tanya Allan   Richard Williamson leaves attractive thirty-five year-old Vanessa and their teenage son, Simon, in the lurch for another woman. After a gruelling twelve months, Vanessa is tired of fighting for pennies to just exist. Called to her son’s school, as Simon appears to be having a breakdown, she is at the end of her emotional tether. Simon, on the other hand, driven by equally powerful emotions is determined to make his father pay for his betrayal of his mother and for hurting her so deeply. On the way home from the school they are involved in a freak accident, whereby the car leaves the road and is hit suddenly by thousands of volts of electricity. Simon wakes up in hospital to find he is now in his mother’s body. Lying in the bed next to him is his body, but who’s inside it? Richard, returning to the UK on a false passport to realise some undeclared assets, unwittingly sets off a chain of events that threatens to engulf all. No one took into account a plucky young woman, calling herself Nessa, and her very fresh perspective on life. A baffled young boy, reluctantly answering to the name of Simon finds himself back at school for the second time around, but the first time had been as a girl! The problems double as a way to change back is discovered... but someone decides she doesn’t want to go back to being a boy!

 
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

---

 
The Legal Stuff:Weird Wednesday  ©2009 Tanya Allan

This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 21
 
 
“Mum, why is my hair taking so long to grow?”

Vanessa found Simone attempting to make her hair look longer.

“Patience, it is growing, but you can’t expect it to grow that quickly.

“It’s been weeks!”

“Yes, and you’ve got a cute short bob style. What more do you want?”

“Long, down past my shoulders and down my back.”

“A year then, at least, to reach the shoulders,” Vanessa said with a smile.

“Oh, Mum!”

“Come on, finish getting dressed, you have twenty minutes.”

Simone, dressing in her new school uniform, of navy blue skirt, navy tights, pale blue blouse, navy pullover and grey blazer, felt slightly strange. She was excited, but also slightly apprehensive about returning to Ketterham.

The school sent a pack for new pupils, but it related to boys only. A handwritten insert from Mr Carter detailed the proposed uniform and included a no make up rule except for sixth formers. As none of the girls was in the sixth form, it was academic. However, Vanessa showed her daughter how to use neutral foundation makeup to hide blemishes and spots, a mascara product that was very subtle, and some eye shadows that were virtually invisible, yet enhanced the eyes.

As she had received some earrings for Christmas, Simone had had both ears pierced. She wore small studs just to keep the holes open, despite a no jewellery rule.

“It’s not a fashion show; it’s only school,” her mother told her.

“Maybe, but we’ll still be on show for a while,” Simone said.

At last, she was ready, the car was packed and they were on way. It was a half hour journey, as long as removal trucks kept out of their way!

The school was spread out within fifty acres of rural campus on the Oxfordshire/Buckinghamshire border. The main school was split up into the old manor house, Ketterham Court, with the old stable block now converted into classrooms with a large modern wing added to the side. The pool and gym were slightly to one side, as was the large theatre/assembly hall. All the residential houses were dotted about the campus, with Livingstone, now renamed Astor, situated some eighty yards north of the main building, in which all dining facilities and other amenities, like the library, were housed. The chapel was off to the eastern end of the main building.

Simone had been in Wellington House as Simon, so she was unfamiliar with ‘Astor’ for the girls. Each house was organised along similar lines. Small dormitories for the younger pupils, aged thirteen and fourteen, thereafter single rooms in which they could sleep and work. The younger ones had a junior common room for the third form, and a senior common room for the fourth form. However, as there were only eight girls, it was pointless following usual procedures, so all were allocated single rooms.

Vanessa helped Simone in with her kit and then, after kissing her goodbye, hastily retreated before anyone recognised her. Simone met Mr and Mrs Hardy, the house parents recently brought in from another co-ed school for their experience with girls’ houses.

Simone had a room that would have normally been assigned to a fifth former, and was unpacking when another girl popped her head around the door.

“Hi, I’m Sam,” she said.

Simone looked up. Samantha was almost as tall as she was, but was very slim, not yet developed as much as Simone. Her long red hair was gorgeous and Simone felt slightly envious.

“Hi, I’m Simone. I love your hair!”

Sam grinned. “It’s a pain sometimes, as it takes so long to dry and fix up properly. Your style is far more practical,” she said.

“I’m growing it out, I want it longer.”

“You’re the one with the boyfriend already here, aren’t you?”

“I know a boy who’s here. I’m not sure he’s my boyfriend,” Simone stated. Sam sat on Simone’s bed and watched as she unpacked.

“Have you been to boarding school before?” she asked Simone.

“Yeah. It’s cool. Why, have you?”

“No. My brother is at Shiplake and we don’t live that far from here. My father knows Jacob Carter, so when he offered me a place here for less fees than my old school, Dad jumped at the chance. I’m a bit worried about being just one of eight girls in amongst all those boys. How many are there?”

“Three hundred, give or take a couple.”

“These rooms are nice.”

“They’re for fifth formers, not us fourth formers.”

“How old are you, Simone?”

“Thirteen, you?”

“Fourteen. You look older.”

“So I’m told. I’m fourteen next month - February the third.”

“I’m fifteen in October. I thought you were older than me.”

“It’s the boobs, I started developing early.”

“No, it’s not just that, you just act and look generally older.”

“I’ve had a rough year. My Dad pissed off a year ago and then I heard he was killed recently. Things like that make you grow up a bit.”

“Shit, that sounds horrid, what happened?”

“I don’t really know. A gunman shot him, who in turn was shot by the police. The police were involved in a complicated investigation, in which I think my dad was helping them, but that’s all I do know. Mum and I are pretty used to being on our own these days.”

“No brothers or sisters, then?”

“No, you?”

“An elder brother called Andrew. He’s sixteen.”

“Cool, so he’s got hunky friends then?”

Sam grinned, nodding her head.

“What music do you like?” Sam asked.

Simone held up her Robbie Williams CD.

“I like most stuff. My Dad left behind all his old Status Quo and Queen albums. Have you been to ‘We Will Rock You’ in London yet?”

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Sam grinned again. “So, what’s your boyfriend’s name?” Sam asked.

“Ian, Ian Jamieson, he’s in our form.”

Simone finished putting her stuff away. She then carried her cases down to the storeroom.

“So, which is your room?”

“Next to yours. We’re all together along this corridor. Do you reckon we’ll get to keep then next year?”

“We’ll be fifth formers then, so we should, yes. The third formers may not, it depends on how many girls arrive in September.”

“Do you think we’ll get any older girls come in?”

“Probably, they want to get some to start the sixth form, so we could see up to a dozen or so.”

“Bummer, I rather hoped we’d be the eldest,” Sam said.

“Are any of the others here yet?”

“No, just us so far.”

“Let’s go over to the Dining room. They’ll be serving tea now.”

The two girls walked the eighty yards across to the main building, and then into the large oak panelled dining room. Simone was aware that as soon as they walked in, they were the focus of male attention. She walked over to the servery and collected some tea. There was bread available, with butter and jam, and she automatically made herself a bread and jam sandwich, as she had all the previous term. Samantha followed suit, grateful that Simone seemed to know what she was doing.

They sat by themselves in a corner.

“How come you know this place so well?” Sam asked.

“I don’t, I just remembered the place from our day’s assessment.”

“I’d forgotten most of this bit.”

Simone shrugged and looked about her.

It was so strange seeing the reactions to her and Sam. Boys she knew by sight, who had never given her a second glance, were now all shy and keen to smile at her. A familiar figure came through the door almost at a run.

Ian looked around the room, on seeing Simone his grin lit up his face and he made his way over to her. Samantha watched him approach and thought he was going to kiss her.

“Hi, so, you got here okay?” he said, standing awkwardly as he appeared at a loss what to do with his hands, so he thrust them into his trouser pockets.

“Hi, Ian. Yeah, it looks like it. This is my new friend, Sam,” she said.

Ian sat down next to Simone.

“Hi Sam, what do you think of the place?” he asked.

“It’s okay so far. So, you’re Simone’s boyfriend?”

Ian went red but still managed to smile.

“We know each other,” he said, all bashful.

“How’s your Dad?” Simone asked.

“I left him planning to call your Mum. I think he’s hoping to take her out to dinner again.”

“Cool, she really enjoyed the last one,” Simone said, with a certain smile.

“Yeah, well, he’s determined that she’ll crack eventually,” Ian said, grinning.

“My Mum and his Dad are both divorced. I think Howard is in love with my Mum, so we’ll probably end up as step brother and sister,” Simone explained for Sam’s benefit.

“Oh, wow, where does that leave you?”

“Nowhere, we won’t be blood relatives so we could marry,” said Simone watching Ian’s expression. She wasn’t disappointed as the colour rose and his smile became broader.

“That’s so romantic,” Sam said.

“Yeah, well, don’t get too enthusiastic, there’s a lot of time to go before you start marrying us off,” Simone said with a grin.

Ian smiled and went to get himself some tea. He rejoined them a few moments later. Another boy came over to them, Simone recognised him as being another fourth former called Mark.

“Hey, are you in the thirds or fourths?” he asked.

“Fourths,” said Samantha.

“Cool, me too. I’m Mark.”

“I’m Sam and this is Simone.”

“Simone? Hey, Ian, this is your Simone?” Mark asked.

“Your Simone?” she asked.

Ian went bright red. “Yeah, this is Simone,” he said. Simone raised an eyebrow.

“Wow! He’s been going on and on about you. We all thought he was making it up, but he wasn’t! Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, Ian, we must have a talk, later,” said Simone, standing up and taking her cup over to the wash area.

Ian went with her. “Sorry about that,” he said, slightly sheepishly.

“Just what have you been saying about me?”

“I just said I’d met a beautiful girl and we were good friends, that all, honest.”

“Ian, don’t start any silly stuff. I can’t be doing with lots of wagging tongues.”

“It’s not silly, Simone. I really like you. I’m so pleased you’re back again and doing the play with me.”

“Ian, forget this back again business, you’ll give the game away.”

“And you knowing where everything is so quickly, won’t?”

“Eh?”

“Simone, you are supposed to be new, how come you know about the wash area and everything?”

“Oh, I didn’t think.”

“No, me neither. I think we’ve got to help each other here, okay”

“Okay. Please don’t talk about me behind my back, Ian.”

“I won’t. It’s just, well, I like you so much and I feel so pleased you’re here. That’s all.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to be wanted.”

Three other girls walked in, looking faintly lost. Simone went over to them.

“Hi, I’m Simone, you can get tea and stuff over there and when you’re done, stick the dirty cups through the wash hatch by that door there,” she told them, pointing out the relevant locations.

“I’m Natasha, this is Sarah and Rose,” said a slightly plump girl with a cheerful smile and dark hair. As they greeted each other, the last of the girl came in. Sam and Simone sat with them as they became better acquainted. Ian, realising he was out-numbered, waved to Simone and left.

All the girls were thirteen or fourteen and from the outset felt a curious bond in the face of the overwhelming maleness surrounding them. Sarah and Jane were younger than Simone, but the others, Lucy, Poppy, Natasha, Samantha and Rose were all a little older.

They were due to meet the Headmaster in their house at six, so they all managed to return and were waiting for him. They sat in the comfortable common room and Jacob stood before them, beaming. Their House parents sat to one side, regarding their new charges.

Jacob addressed them.

“Welcome, girls. You are paving the way for future of this school. I firmly believe that the steps you are taking will ensure that Ketterham will progress well into this century, and continue to provide a first class education for girls and boys.

“Personally, let me say thank you for being brave enough to be a few roses amongst many thorns. I am aware that what you are doing is not easy, but it is essential if we are to create an atmosphere of cooperation and harmony. Your observations, comments and feedback are essential, and I urge you to speak to your house parents or to me about everything and anything that will make your lives here easier.

“I have asked that a boy in each of your forms will team up with you to act as mentor for the first week or so. These boys will show you where everything is, help you with classrooms, routines and such like. In the future, you will be the mentors for new girls, but for the moment, as you are the first, you’ll have to put up with boys. You will meet them outside the dining hall just before supper at six thirty. A notice is on the notice board, and it’s their task to find you and make themselves known to you all.

“It remains for me to wish you good luck and I sincerely hope your time here will be happy, productive and successful.”

Simone smiled, wishing exactly the same, but adding the word — undiscovered!
 

*          *          *
 
Fast Eddie was in a foul mood. He sat by himself in the recreation area, glowering at everyone who came near. He’d just got word that Wiseman had been arrested and had turned Queen’s evidence. The word had come in the form of the Superintendent, who had arranged for his production at a central London police station, where he was further charged with conspiracy to kidnap, blackmail and witness intimidation. The latter two were cases that Wiseman had given new information on old cases. Stanley was unavailable for some reason and Eddie felt so frustrated to be cut off from his contacts.

Twenty yards away was a man who saw Eddie’s frustration as a potential advantage. Terry Hobart was a robber. He wasn’t a very good one, as he had spent fourteen years inside since he had been sixteen. He was thirty-three now and was on remand for another bungled armed robbery. He’d been inside for six months waiting his case to come to court.

He knew Eddie by reputation and sought him out as he saw him alone.

“Word is you want some work done on the outside,” he said to Eddie.

“Who the fuck are you?” Eddie asked, as blunt as usual.

“Terry Hobart.”

Eddie nodded, he’d heard of him.

“What you in for?”

“Armed blagging.”

“What went wrong?”

“Fuckers were waiting for me. I’m looking at five to eight.”

“So, what can you do for me?”

“Me? Nufink, I’m banged up for a while yet, but I’ve two brothers that could do wiv some readies.”

“Fucking amateurs!”

“Maybe, but the way I hear it, you ain’t got a lot of fucking choice.”

“These brothers, are they reliable?”

“Yeah. What’s the job?”

Eddie looked at him.

“Fuck off, come back in two days,” Eddie said.

Terry stared at him, nodded and then walked off.

Eddie made contact with some people he knew he could trust through Stella, his wife, when she visited. His brother-in-law, Luke Fisher, was the manager of his own trucking firm. He was now as straight as they came, but his first truck had been bought with money stolen from a Securicor van in 1979.

He never got his hands dirty any more, and Eddie respected that, particularly as he was now looking after Stella.

He asked him to look into Terry Hobart.

The result came back when Stella visited him a few days later.

“Luke says Hobart is clean,” she said. When she said ‘clean’ she meant untarnished by being a known informant. The man was as crooked as they came, but he’d never sold anyone out to the coppers.

Eddie nodded.

Later, Terry was playing pool and Eddie came over to him.

He beaconed for the man to follow him. When they were alone, Eddie told him what he wanted.

“I need some people taken out.”

Terry nodded. He wasn’t prepared for this, but didn’t show it. He’d heard the job just was a bit of leaning on someone.

“Cost ya,” he said.

“Half a mil. Four names.”

“Four? You have to be kidding. Half a mil each!”

“No way. One’s inside, so he’s no problem. The others are soft touches, women and a kid. A mil, and that’s it!”

Terry’s eyes lit up with greed. A million quid was more money than he could imagine. He’d give a quarter million to each brother, leaving him with half a million to retire with when he got out. Invested properly for eight years, that would be just the job!

“Done. How can you pay me?”

“Half up front and half on completion. It’s offshore, all I need is a bank account number,” Eddie said.

“That’s easy enough. The one banged up, where is he?”

“I don’t know, you’d have to get someone contact Prisoner Locations.”

Terry looked baffled, so Eddie had to explain.

“Look, they send prisoners all over the fucking country to fuck about the families and other connections. But, by law they have to keep records of where they are, so welfare groups keep track of them,” Eddie explained.

“Oh.”

“Once I give you the names, you have two months and then the deal’s off if the contracts aren’t fulfilled.”

“Okay. The names?”

Eddie passed him a slip of paper. Terry looked down and started to read them - Susannah Williamson. Robert Wiseman. Vanessa Williamson. Simon Williamson. There were some addresses for each, except Wiseman, he was the one doing time.

“Shit, what did the Williamsons do to you?” asked Terry, reading the names

“Let’s just say, I want everything to do with them rubbed out. Unfortunately, the bastard that put me here is dead, but his family isn’t….yet!”

When Terry looked up, Eddie was gone. Terry smiled, a million quid, and for once he was as safe as could be.
 
 
Chapter 22
 
 
The girls found their mentors outside the dining hall. Simone smiled as she noticed Ian looking rather pleased with himself. They waited until the others had introduced themselves and all disappeared into hall.

“I might have known,” she said.

“I asked to be your mentor, do you mind?”

“Why should I mind?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, I thought you might think I’m getting too serious.”

“I do, but I can’t stop you. In a way I like it, even though I think it’s a bit silly at our age.”

He smiled. “This way I just have an excuse to be with you, even though you don’t really need a mentor.”

“I suppose so, we can at least pretend that you’re showing me around.”

“Let’s go eat.”

They went in together. He had an enormous smile on his face, and Simone was just pleased that she had at least one boy she could trust. The girls were all nice enough, but Simone couldn’t just wipe away thirteen years of being someone else. She wanted to keep some things from her past, those aspects that had given pleasure and of which she had fond memories. Her old friendships had yet to be rekindled, but she knew that as a girl she’d find it impossible to have the same relationship with them.

As she lined up for her food, she noticed how these ex-friends now regarded her, so she felt sad that some things would never be the same. However, she felt so much better about herself that this was a small price to pay for the way her life now was.

It surprised her that no one, either boys or the staff, identified her as being Simon. She knew she was a different gender, but her face was more or less the same, albeit more feminine and framed with longer hair. The lady dishing up the food glanced at her and smiled.

“Hello dear, I think you’re very brave letting yourself loose in amongst this lot. Hopefully, their manners might improve some with you girls here. There’s room for it,” she said, glancing at some boisterous fifth formers who were not bothering to use utensils for their correct purpose.

“You might find we’re worse,” Simone said.

“No dear, girls could never be worse than this lot,” the lady said emphatically.

Simone smiled, taking her tray of food over to the cutlery trolley and from there to the table where the other girls and their mentors were already sitting. Simone was a little shocked to see Kipper Blake sitting next to Sarah, as her appointed mentor. Kipper glanced at her and smiled, not a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Ian joined them a few moments later.

“So, Simone, where did you go to school before?” Kipper asked.

“A small private school near Wallingford. It was facing financial problems and might be closing, so Mum had to look around for somewhere else. She heard that Ketterham was looking for girls and so she made enquiries. I wasn’t going to start until September, but the Head wanted to encourage me to start now. Here I am.”

“How did you meet Ian?” he asked.

Ian looked at her. She had no idea what he’d already said.

“Hmm, how did he say we’d met?” she asked.

“He didn’t. We just heard all about you. Most of us thought he was bullshitting, now I know he wasn’t,” Kipper said, ducking as Ian threw his fork at him.

“My mum and his dad are both on their own, and we sort of all met by accident one day. I think his dad is after my mum, and so we keep having meals at each other’s houses,” she said, not telling any lies at all. Ian looked relieved, smiling as he ate his food.

Someone changed the subject, as others started asking questions about each other. Simone and Ian let it all wash over them, relieved to have passed the first round of searching questions.

“So what sports are you lot going to play?” asked Rob, Rose’s mentor.

“I fancy rugger,” said Simone, semi-teasing.

The boys all laughed dismissively and she felt slightly miffed, knowing she had been quite good at the sport.

“Hoi,” said Natasha, “what’s wrong with girls playing rugger? There are some really good girls’ teams.”

Simone looked at her with a smile, for Natasha had the build to be a useful second row forward.

“There are only eight of us, so we’d be able to play sevens. I bet we’d beat the boys!” she said with a grin.

Ian, knowing how well Simon had played in the past, wisely kept silent, but the other boys were vociferous in telling the girls they’d have no chance.

“Right!” said Simone, “We’ll see about that. You speak to your games master and we’ll arrange a match. We’ll need a little coaching, but I reckon you will be in for a shock.”

“I heard we’ll be playing tennis, swimming and stuff like that,” said Rose.

“I wish I could do that instead of rugger. I hate the bloody game,” said Mark.

“That’s only because you’re crap at it,” Ian told him and both grinned. Roddy Hamilton, Samantha’s mentor, looked at Simone closely.

“You remind me of someone,” he said, frowning. Simone’s blood ran cold.

“Oh?” she said, as calmly as she could.

“Yeah, me too!” said Splodge, who’d drawn Jane in the mentor draw. “I think she looks a bit like Angelina Jolie, but her hair’s a different colour. You know, the actress who played Lara Croft in Tomb Raider?”

All boys stared at Simone, who felt herself going very red.

Mark nodded. “Yeah, that could be it. What do you look like in tight shorts and a tight tee shirt?” he asked with a grin.

“You don’t want to know,” she said with a cold, hard look. It was sufficient to make Mark feel slightly uncertain, so she backed it up with a smile.

“Well, you’ll soon see, because she’ll wear them for tennis,” Samantha said with a cheeky grin. The ice was broken and amid laughter, Simone relaxed slightly.
 

*          *          *
 
Norman ‘The Nutter’ Hobart was a man of simple tastes. He was three years younger than Terry, and a year older than Phil. Norman had the lowest IQ amongst the brothers and it didn’t bother him in the slightest. As long as he had a warm woman, a hot meal and a cold beer, he was happy. It wasn’t important in which order he had them, but as long as there was one of each in his near future, he was content.

Phil, on the other hand, was very different. Brighter than his brothers, he was the only one who had yet to experience Her Majesty’s pleasure and actually get caught. He was far shrewder than his older brothers, and aspired to retire to Spain a wealthy man by the time he was forty.

Unlike his brothers, he was gay. His tastes ran to young men, the younger the better and, as he was the product of a father who had abused him, he was particularly violent as a sexual predator. He ran a second-hand furniture business in the East End. It was an ideal opportunity for his other career as a fence of stolen property, so he was well on track to make his fortune.

His sexual preference, however, was his one major weakness, as it meant his sexual partners tended to be from amongst the many homeless and destitute street-kids who’d do anything for money. Some of his conquests had to be well paid to avoid any complaints to the police or social services for the excesses of his ‘enjoyments’!

He had just finished one such session and the boy lay sobbing in his large double bed. Feeling satisfied for the moment, Phil dressed and threw three hundred pounds next to the boy.

“Shut up and fuck off. Any fucking word to the Old Bill means you’ll wake up with a hole where your fucking neck should be, got it?”

The boy, a run-away from Liverpool, gathered up the notes and, still snivelling, gingerly dressed and hobbled out of the flat. The poor boy could hardly walk. Phil had picked him up the previous evening up near Piccadilly Circus and, after giving him a hot meal, he’d spent the night fucking him violently. Phil didn’t even know his name.

Phil made his way across London to Belmarsh to visit his brother. He found Terry in good spirits and, when he left, Phil had a smile on his face. He returned to Hackney and found Norman in the pub.

“Orl ri’ Phil?” he brother yelled across the pub. Phil sighed as Norman was already half way to being legless again.

“Not bad, mate,” he said, ordering a pint of bitter at the bar.

“Ow’s Tel?”

“Good. We got to talk later,”

Norman’s Neolithic brow creased.

“Why?”

Phil looked into his brother’s glazed and blood-shot eyes.

“Later, I’m not talking to you now.”

“Why the fuck not? I’m orl ri’.”

“Norm, you’re pissed, an’ I ain’t talking to you when you’re pissed, okay?”

“I’m not pished!” Norman said, slurring his words.

“Later,” Phil repeated, moving away.

The next morning Phil called round at noon, finding Norm still in bed with a sixteen-year old girl he’d picked up the previous evening. Norman was fast asleep, but the girl woke up as he let himself into the flat.

“’oo are you?” she asked, sitting up and giving him a flash of her plump young body and floppy breasts.

“Fuck off!” he told the girl.

“’e owes me,” she complained.

“’ow much?”

She shrugged. “Fifty?” she asked hopefully.

“I bet ‘e couldn’t even get it up,” Phil said and the girl smiled.

Phil threw two twenty-pound notes at her.

“Now, fuck off,” he said, turning away as she got out of bed naked.

He disliked the female form, ever since he’d watched his father beat his naked mother so badly she ran out into the street still naked and screaming. The Old Bill had nicked his dad, only to let him go when his mother refused to substantiate the assault charges. He’d killed her two months later and then gassed himself in the car.

The girl left and Phil poured a jug of cold water over his slumbering brother.

Norman spluttered and coughed his way to the land of the awake.

“’kin-ell, Phil, wot you do that for?” he asked somewhat petulantly.

“I need you awake. We got a job.”

“Wot kind of job?”

“A hundred grand each, and all we got to do is make some people disappear,” he said.

“Wot people?”

“Just some buggers that have upset a friend of Tel’s”

“Wot you mean, disappear?”

“Just that, one minute they ‘ere, next they’re gorn.”

“You mean dead?”

“Something like that.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry about it, think of the hundred grand.”

Norm frowned as he did that. It was more money than his brain could fathom, and he wondered how many pints he could buy for a hundred thousand. Phil smiled, that made his cut four hundred thousand, but Norm wouldn’t miss the change in circumstances.

“’ow are we going to do it?”

“That’s my problem. I already worked out that one of the names is in Ford Open Prison.”

“Where’s that?”

“Sussex.”

Norm frowned. “Where’s that?”

Phil rolled his eyes.

“South, Brighton’s in Sussex,” he said.

Norm’s brow cleared. He knew where Brighton was. Then he frowned again.

“How do we get to ‘im?”

“It’s an open prison. That means the prisoners are low risk because they’ve done a deal with the Old Bill or something. This bloke is a solicitor and he’s squealed on a man who doesn’t appreciate it. So, we walk in, take him out and walk out again.”

“Take ‘im out?”

“Oh, for fuck sake, you thick bastard. We go in, kill him, and then leave, okay?”

“Wot, an’ they just let us, like?”

“Oh, don’t fucking worry about how, leave that to me. There’s bound to be a way in, as delivery drivers or something!”

“Oh, so do we stab ‘im, or what?”

“I’ve a plan, less messy and easier to make it look like natural causes. I saw it on CSI a couple of weeks ago.”

Norman frowned again.

“Oh, what is it now?” Phil asked.

“They always get caught on that programme,” he said.

“Well, we won’t, okay?”

Norman nodded. If Phil said it was okay, it was okay.
 

*          *          *
 
Robert Wiseman, unaware that he was the focus of such attention, was slightly happier. Although his career lay in ruins, he was sufficiently useful to the authorities to allow a deal to be struck. This meant he would not be serving much time, being free as soon as McDonagh was sentenced. He had sufficient funds squirreled away to secure his comfortable retirement. He owned a nice little villa in the Algarve, and he would be joining his wife there in a few months. For the moment, he was secure in the Prison System, aware that McDonagh’s wrath might well be mighty, but his reach had been seriously curtailed.

In a perverse way, he found his predicament novel and slightly amusing. As soon as word got out that he was a solicitor, albeit now with no licence, many inmates sought him out for advice and opinions on each individual’s case. Not being violent or potential trouble, he found the relaxed atmosphere at Ford more like school than what he imagined Prison should have been like.

The food was plentiful and reasonably good, the beds were comfortable, and the company was entertaining. However, he was aware of the possibility that Eddie might just have the wherewithal to reach him, so he was always vigilant.
 

*          *          *
 
Superintendent Harris was in DI Collins’ office.

“Will Eddie make a play for Wiseman?” the Inspector asked, after hearing the bulk of the tale.

“Almost certainly.”

“Is he mad? Won’t he realise we’re watching him?”

“Eddie is very focussed, so he can get a bit blinkered when it comes to revenge. I should think he reckons he’s got nothing to lose.”

“I though we’d seized all his assets?”

“We’ve seized the majority, but Eddie is a crafty bastard, I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t got a couple of million put away somewhere we can’t get at easily.”

“If we catch whoever he contracts, we’d have him by the short and curlies!”

“True, but I don’t want to lose Wiseman, he’s a key witness.”

“Have you anyone on him inside Belmarsh?”

“No, but the officers are keeping a surreptitious eye on him. Do you know a man called Terry Hobart?”

DI Collins frowned and shook his head.

“No, should I?”

“Not necessarily. He’s a nasty and rather inefficient armed robber, done more time that he hasn’t. I’m told that Eddie and he have met a couple of times.”

“Is he a remand prisoner as well?”

“Oh yes, he’s not getting out for a long time. Due up at court next month, and will probably get five to eight years. I’m not worried about him, but his friends or relatives. It’s not your patch; so don’t worry about it. I’m thinking of putting someone on Wiseman for a while.”

“Is he the only target?”

“There’s Williamson, but he’s out of the picture. I suppose his family might be in danger. I depends how pissed off Eddie is. However, I can’t afford to put officers on all the people that were involved with Williamson.”

“What about McCallum?”

“What about him?”

“Is he in danger?”

“Not personally, but his daughter might be.”

“Have you called him?”

“Not yet, I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea,” the Superintendent said, taking out a small black notebook.
 
 
Chapter 23
 
 
Vanessa opened the door and registered surprise.

“Gerry! What’s the matter?”

“Hello Nessa, can I come in?” the Scotsman asked.

Vanessa smiled, as Nessa had obviously imprinted herself on his mind. She opened the door wide and let him into the house.

“Please, how are Susannah and Gail?”

“They’re fine, but we’ve got problems,” he said.

“Come into the kitchen. Tea?”

“Aye, thanks.”

Vanessa gave him a mug of tea.

“Well?” she said.

“The police called and they think Eddie might be planning something against you and Susannah.”

“Me?”

“You and your son; no - daughter, I’m sorry, I forgot.”

Vanessa smiled. “I think you can be excused, it’s hardly a normal situation. But why are we at risk? We didn’t do much.”

“Eddie doesn’t care. Richard sufficiently enraged him to make him want to rub out anything of Richard that he left behind.”

Vanessa knew that Gerry knew that Richard was still alive and in New Zealand.

“Is Susannah going to go back to him?”

Gerry frowned. “Aye, I think so. She says she loves him, the silly wee tart!”

“Love is blind, I should know,” Vanessa said.

“Aye, that’s true enough.”

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know. The police can’t afford to give protection, just in case. So I suggest you find somewhere to go for a wee while.”

“I can’t just leave, where will I go?”

“Do ye have parents?”

“My mother, but I spent twenty years waiting to leave her, so I couldn’t go back to her, not for very long, at any rate. I love her dearly, but at a distance.”

Gerry smiled.

“A friend, perhaps?”

Vanessa suddenly thought of Howard.

“Possibly,” she said.

“Then I suggest you do so. I’m taking Susannah back to New Zealand, and me and the missus will stay there with her for a while.”

“Do you think it likely he tries something?”

“To be honest, yes, as he’s a reputation o’ bein’ a hard bastard, so it’s best to be careful.”

“What about Simone?”

“She should be well hidden where she is. Different name and a pretty girl like that will fool the buggers. Best you warn her, though.”

“I will, thanks.”

“Good luck, you don’t deserve this, yon ex-husband of yorn was a right wee sod.”

“Yes, he was.”

Gerry left her and she picked up the telephone. It was time she confided in someone, why not Howard?
 

*          *          *
 
Mr Griffiths was ecstatic. For the first time, he actually had girls playing female parts in a play and they were so much better than using boys who didn’t want to do it!

The cast of the junior play gathered for a formal read through and young Simone Strickland was simply wonderful as Julia. She and Ian had a certain chemistry, and had obviously been practising their lines together. Surprisingly, Simone hardly referred to the page at all, remembering her lines perfectly for the most part.

Although sitting round the room reading their lines, Mr Griffiths could see that the leading pair was almost ready to stand up and run through it for real. As he watched them, Simone reminded him slightly of the young boy who had to leave the school before the end of last term. He was unsure whether it was the similarity in their names that caused him to think this, but he found the coincidence slightly uncanny.

He actually couldn’t visualise the boy now, as he hadn’t really known him at all. The problem was compounded by the fact he had got to know the pretty girl and his memory was clouded by his recent experiences with her.

There seemed to be a standing joke amongst the pupils, so whenever the pair had to read through any scene that might have even the slightest reflection of a love interest, the kissing noises would start. Regarding the two young people, he was surprised to see that this might be due to a real-life attachment that had begun between them.

Mr Griffiths had to keep his personal feelings closely battened down. He’d been a teacher at an all-boys school for fifteen years. One of his greatest joys was producing dramatic works and part of that pleasure was the opportunity to see boys dress as girls. Although the new presence of girls allowed a new freedom from playing female parts amongst the boys, he felt that something was now missing from his life.

A single man, he was scrupulously careful not to allow his sexual fantasies impinge upon his professional life. Yet, he was so frustrated at being so close and yet so far from the objects of his desire.

Unlike Phil Hobart, he adored and cherished young boys and would never harm them. Preferring instead to surf the Internet and lose himself in sexual fantasies involving his imagination, an anal dildo and a mink glove. His favourite fantasy was of a boy dressed as a girl, in leather with a whip, subjecting him to a sexual experience bordering on the painful. He’d never had a sexual encounter with anyone, male or female, balking at any suggestion that he could or would ever involve any young person in any immoral act. However, his fantasies continued, as did his frustration and loneliness.

The more he watched Simone, the more he convinced himself that she could be a boy dressed up. His fantasies took a different form. In the place of vague feminine, boyish faces, Simone’s face appeared on the young dominatrix who turned into a boy at the end, subjecting him to penetrative anal sex. As a result, he almost became fixated upon her, to an alarming degree.

The fantasies changed, subtly at first and then, alarmingly for Robert Griffiths, the nature of his object of desire altered more in line with reality.

For the first time in his life, Robert Griffiths fantasised about a girl! That girl was Simone, and although the fantasy ran on similar lines as always, at the conclusion, she revealed her true gender. Instead of a real penis, she used a strap-on dildo to perform the sex act upon him. His orgasm was more potent than ever and he found himself constantly seeking her company whenever possible.

Jacob Carter observed Robert’s behaviour with some alarm. He had already some fears that the man had a certain sexual preference, yet at no time had he given any cause for alarm or evidence he could be a danger. The police checks revealed nothing untoward and no complaint had yet been received, but Jacob had seen him become vaguely fixated with particular boys in the past, yet his fixation on Simone seemed more intense than was proper. Although relieved that this was a more natural heterosexual direction, he still was seriously concerned.

Jacob called him into his study.

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?”

“Sit down, Robert, please.”

Robert sat, curious and yet a little nervous, as he was aware that Simone was taking over his waking being.

“It has to stop, Robert!” Jacob said, sternly.

“Headmaster?”

“Oh, Robert, do you think me blind as well as stupid. I know!”

Robert seemed to crumble inwards, so within moments he was sobbing. Jacob had tried a bluff, succeeding beyond his wildest dreams.

It took the man some moments to compose himself.

“I shall resign, immediately,” he said.

“Robert, you’ve not done anything wrong, not yet. I have to consider the welfare of my pupils. If you become fixated on a girl or a boy in this school, then all manner of problems will be unleashed. I need to understand exactly what your problem is!”

Jacob Carter was neither prepared nor expecting the eruption of sexual fantasy that Robert shared with him over the next twenty minutes. Years of sexual repression and pent-up desire came spilling out as the man released all to his headmaster.

Reeling with the shock, Jacob retreated behind his desk. He had no idea at the depth and nature of Robert’s problems.

In the silence that followed, Jacob regarded the bowed head of Robert Griffiths. The man was a spent force, releasing his burdens for the first time, he sat, an empty shell, grateful to unburden himself.

Jacob honestly didn’t know what to do. He’d had openly predatory homosexual teachers before and had no compunction to dismiss them. Robert wasn’t a predator. He was a sad man, with sexual problems caused by who knows what in his own past, but Jacob didn’t see him as a danger.

“Robert, consider yourself on strict probation. You will seek counselling for your problems, as soon as possible. You will cease any fixation upon a pupil of this school, male or female, and you will behave with the utmost professional decorum at all times. If you give me the slightest indication that you are failing to maintain this decorum, then you will resign immediately. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Headmaster. Thank you, Headmaster.”

“No, go, and behave yourself!”

Robert Griffiths left, swearing to try to avoid excessive contact with Simone.

It lasted two days and then the fantasies began again. This time Simone was even more voluptuous and twice as dominating. In desperation, Robert Griffiths found a contact number on a Transgender site on the Internet. Nervously, he made an appointment with someone called Lucy the Lash at a pub in nearby High Wycombe.

After school, that evening, he drove to High Wycombe, entering the pub as arranged. He nearly bolted several times and yet something made him stay.

He sat at a table by the door, ready to run if needs be.

A figure approached him. He looked up. The young woman was tall, nearly six feet, and wore a long raincoat. He could see she wore black PVC boots with very high stiletto heels, as they were visible beneath the coat.

She had blonde hair and heavy make up. The coat swung open, and he caught a glance of the black PVC corset and leather straps. Large breasts strained to be released from a black PVC bra.

His erection was instantaneous.

“You Robert?” she asked, her voice husky and deep.

He nodded, unable to trust himself to speak.

“I’m Lucy. Got a car?”

He nodded again.

“Come on!” she ordered, and he swallowed his drink and led her to the car. Opening the door for her, he smelled the heady smell of cheap perfume and sweat. He almost came then and there.

She directed him through the town, until he was lost. They came to a halt outside a small terrace house.

“A hundred quid, now!” she said. He paid her.

She got out and told him to follow.

She opened the front door and walked in and up the stairs. The house was split up into three bed-sits, with hers at the top of the stairs on the left. He followed, closing the door behind him.

She took her coat off, turned and faced him. He saw her groin for the first time and there was a small lump behind her thong.

He found himself looking at the biggest bed he’d ever seen. There were chains and all manner of strange objects littering the room.

“Undress, now!” she said, and Robert did, his erection very prominent.

“So, have you been naughty?”

“Yes,” he said.

She slapped him on the behind and he was shocked at the pain and the surprise. He ejaculated.

“Now look what you’ve done!” she said. “Get down and lick up that mess!”

He stared at her in shock. She slapped him again and he found himself on his knees licking up his own semen.

“Faster!” she said, slapping him again.

“Not fast enough!” she said.

He watched in amazement, as she took something from the dresser. It was an enormous black dildo attached to a strap arrangement.

“Bend over!” she ordered and he felt something cold and wet hit his anus as she rubbed some lubrication up him. She impaled him on her dildo, ramming it home. Tears came to his eyes with the pain, yet as she rhythmically fucked him, he felt himself becoming aroused once more.

The t-girl slowed and stopped. He was fully erect again. She withdrew and stood in front of him.

“Good boy, now do me!” she said, taking off the dildo and her thong, pushing him onto his back, rolling a condom onto his erection and lowering herself onto him from above with her booted legs either side of him. For the first time in his life, Robert Griffiths penetrated another human being.

She had lubricated her own anus and he slid into her easily. She rode him hard, slapping him to keep his attention. Her own small and hardly erect penis was now evident and heightened his sense of the erotic. He wasn’t long and was amazed as she ejaculated again against his stomach at the same time as he came.

He lay back, completely sated for the first time, falling asleep.

He was woken up as someone shook him.

He opened his eyes and looked at Lucy. It was still dark outside, and the curtains were drawn.

She had changed. She’d taken off most of the heavy makeup, replacing it with more conventional cosmetics. In place of the PVC and leather, she wore a blouse and skirt, tights and shoes. He found her more attractive like this.

“Come on, time to go. I have to go to work!”

He frowned confused. “What time is it?”

“Six thirty. I work as a cleaner, so get a move on.”

He found his clothes and dressed, suddenly aware that he’d had sex.

“I, I, um, I’ve not had ..um, not done…um……”

“Never?”

“No, last night was the first time,” he admitted, suddenly ashamed.

“Well, we all have to start sometime. Look don’t think bad of me, I’m waiting for SRS and need all the money I can get. I’m not really a bad person, but found that this sort of thing we did pays best.”

“SRS?”

“A sex change. Look, I’m sorry if you’re confused, but I haven’t got time for a chat. I have to go.”

“Can, can I see you again?”

Lucy looked at the man. Robert wasn’t bad looking, a tall thin man, with receding hairline and gentle eyes. She felt sorry for him.

“Don’t even think about it. I find I can’t work with people I like,” she said.

“Oh. Look, I’m new at this. Can we sort of meet as friends?”

“I don’t make friends with business contacts.”

“Oh.”

The man seemed so lost and pathetic, Lucy felt unusually drawn to him.

“Look, all I want is to be a girl. I’m twenty-two and have nothing. My family told me to fuck off, so I don’t make very good company.”

“You need money, I can help!”

She looked at her watch.

“Shit, I have to go. Call me later,” she said, giving him her mobile number.

Robert left, unaware that his life had just changed beyond all recognition. It took him ages to find his way out of High Wycombe and get back to the school.

Lucy, originally known as Luke Lovett, went to work. She had been living as a female for the last eleven months. She’d moved down to this area from Crewe when her father had thrown her out of the house. All she’d done was announce she was seeking gender reassignment surgery, and he’d thrown a complete fit.

Penniless, virtually friendless and despairing, she’d caught the bus south, ending up on the floor of one person who hadn’t rejected her. Her only friend was a young single mother who she’d met on the bus. The girl, called Mandy, was a drug addict and prostitute. Lucy knew enough to see the pitfalls of this lifestyle.

She went out, dressed as a girl, and obtained work with a cleaning company. The social services found her temporary accommodation, and she’d progressed to a small room in a council owned house. Now under a doctor, she was almost to the stage of SRS, having been on hormones for some time, but lacking the funds to make it possible. The NHS would foot the bill for the actual surgery, but anything else was her responsibility. She started her dominatrix character six months ago and as a result, had managed to acquire breast implants and some cosmetic facial surgery.

Much more was needed, yet all she wanted to do was live a normal life as a girl.

All day she kept thinking about Robert. He was such a gentle soul, so it had been so hard to pretend to be cruel to him. She was unaware that several miles to the west, Robert Griffiths was now fixated on someone new, and not, for a change, a pupil.
 
 
Chapter 24
 
 
Howard was in his office when his mobile rang. He answered it.

“Howard Jamieson.”

“Howard, it’s Nessa,” she said, remembering at the last moment that he knew her as Nessa and not Vanessa.

He was suddenly alert, his heart leaping.

“Nessa, how lovely. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need a favour, can we meet for lunch or something?”

“Of course, when?”

“Is today too soon?”

Howard looked at his scheduler. “No, today’s fine; where and when?”

“Whenever and wherever that’s convenient for you.”

“Um, well, how about the Lamb at Little Milton?”

“Are you sure, that’s a long way from your office?”

“I’m working from home at the moment, so it’s easy.”

“Oh, then that sound’s fine. What time?”

“I could come now, if it’s important.”

It was eleven thirty.

Vanessa thought about it for a moment.

“How about noon?” she said.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there.”

As it happened, both were five minutes early.

Vanessa saw his car was already in the car park and smiled. She found she was looking forward to seeing him. As soon as she walked in and saw him smile, she knew that something was happening to her. She knew Simone would tease her about this if she knew.

“Nessa, you look lovely, as always,” he said and she kissed him.

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me first thing in the morning,” she said, teasing him.

“I’d like the opportunity though,” he said and she blushed.

He bought her a glass of white wine and they sat down in a cosy corner.

“So, what’s the favour?” he asked.

Vanessa took a deep breath and told him a brief account of events leading up to Richard’s ‘death’. She then told him about the possible threat posed by the vengeful Eddie McDonagh and about Gerry McCallum’s recent visit.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

“I couldn’t, it was all so confusing and difficult. It was bad enough with Simone’s problems, so I just didn’t want to burden you with all my problems too.”

“I wish you had.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know anyone else to turn to.”

He smiled and took her hand. “I’m glad you did tell me. You need somewhere to stay for a while. Do you know for how long?”

“No, Gerry seemed to think that a few weeks would do it, but I couldn’t ask you to put me up for that long.”

“Nessa, I’ve already asked you to come and live with me for the rest of our lives, of course you can stay as long as you want.”

Vanessa’s heart gave a lurch and she found tears in her eyes again.

“Oh, Howard, you really are too good to me.”

“Nessa, I love you and I just want you to be happy.”

“Oh Howard, I wish I knew what the hell I wanted. Hopefully, things will settle down enough so I will find out.”

“Come on, let’s eat, we can talk about this as we have lunch.”
 

*          *          *
 
“What ya mean, she’s fucked off?” Phil asked.

“She’s gorn. I did as you said, rang directory enquiries, got the number and phones up, but nuffink. So’s I goes rand, and the neighbour says they’ve gorn to New Zealand.”

“Fuck, you’d better come back then.”

“I only just got ’ere!”

Phil slammed the phone down in disgust. Norman had simply to drive up to Scotland, find Susannah Williamson and call Phil to tell him where she was.

Phil took out the list. Number one wasn’t in the game now, so he looked down the list. Number two: Robert Wiseman - the man in Ford Open Prison. Phil drove down to Arundel in Sussex and sat up looking at the main gates.

Ford was unique. Those incarcerated here had the freedom to leave at certain times and under certain conditions. There was an absence of bars, walls and locks. They were trusted to remain on the premises, with permission, on occasion, to walk out into the town and other such ventures. All inmates were low-risk, non-violent prisoners with a history of cooperation with the authorities and many were respectable men, with perhaps one or two minor blemishes on their otherwise clean sheets.

Phil had a photograph of Wiseman. He realised that he was conspicuous in his car, so he moved off, finding a bed and breakfast room in Littlehampton, just down the road.

Calling Norman on his mobile, he told his brother where to meet him in Sussex. He gave him explicit directions, hoping he would be able to avoid getting lost. He spent the day becoming familiar with the area, and kept seeing men who were obviously on day release from the prison. He hoped he’d bump into Wiseman, thereby saving himself a load of time. He didn’t.
 

*          *          *
 
January is not a good month to play outdoor tennis, so the girls were restricted to swimming, badminton, basketball (the school hadn’t acquired any netball equipment yet), or cross-country running. Samantha suggested hockey, so Mr Venner, the PE Coach decided to look into assimilating the girls into the junior hockey games.

They hadn’t the right skirts, but they had tracksuits, so they were allowed to train alongside the boys, even managing to play a few games with them, in mixed teams. Gradually, with consultation amongst the girls, the school compiled a full list of proper kit in preparation for the new scholastic year beginning in September. The pilot scheme was proving invaluable, and the governors congratulated themselves on the wisdom of their decision.

Once the novelty of having girls around wore off, Simone and the others settled into a routine, accepted by the boys in their classes. All Simone’s fears of exposure were unfounded, even if Mr Griffiths behaved most oddly of late.

Simone phoned home one evening, only to get the answer-phone. Somewhat perturbed, she sought out Ian in his house.

She had to ring the bell and ask someone to fetch him, as a strict rule relating to girls in boys’ houses (and vice versa) was imposed to prevent any possible impropriety. A few moments later, he came down.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“Have you heard from your Dad recently?”

“No, why?”

“I tried ringing Mum, but there’s no reply. I thought maybe your Dad might know where she is.”

“Would you like me to call him?”

“Could you?”

“Yeah, look, we can use the phone box up by the gym. Let me get my phone card.”

Ian disappeared to his room to collect his card and in a couple of minutes was back again. They walked up to the gym. The phone box was outside the main doors. The pair squeezed in together and Ian punched in the number.

Simone only heard one side of the conversation.

“Hi, Dad. It’s Ian. Look, I’ve Simone with me. She’s worried about her Mum, as there’s no reply from her home. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

“Oh, right. Okay, I’ll tell her.”

“No that’s it. I don’t know, I’ll ask her.”

“Simone, your Mum is at our house. Do you want to talk to her?”

“Yes, please.”

He handed the phone to her.

“Mum? What’s going on?”

Vanessa explained about the threat and Gerry’s advice.

“So, when were you going to tell me?”

“I rang your house parents, but they said you were out somewhere,” Vanessa told her daughter.

“Yeah, I was out ringing you.”

“I’m sorry sweetie. I thought it wise to come over and talk things through with Howard. So we’ve just had a lovely dinner and I might just come and stay here for a while. If you come out at the weekends, we can stay here and pop home to collect anything you want.”

Simone smiled. “Oh yeah, so, how serious is this supposed threat?” she asked, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Vanessa laughed. “Actually, it is serious, but I’m not complaining too much.”

“How is Howard?”

“Earnest and very sweet.”

“Mummy, have you?”

“No, I haven’t and even if I had it’s none of your business!”

Ian looked at Simone with a frown. His serious face made her giggle.

“Howard is looking worried, we’d better stop,” Vanessa said.

“Hmm, so’s Ian. Okay, Mum, as long as I know. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Bye.”

She put the phone down and couldn’t resist laughing at Ian’s baffled expression. She was also conscious that they were physically very close, squished together in the phone box. Simone realised she liked being close to the boy. His flushed and slightly uncomfortable expression added to her giggles.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You are; you look so worried. My Mum has heard that there’s a threat against anyone who had any dealings with my Dad. So she’s gone to stay with someone she can trust that’s far enough away from our place. She would have stayed with aunt Roz, but she lives almost next door to us. She’s moving in with your Dad.”

“Moving in, you mean.. like, um…?”

“No, not like moving in and going to bed with, just moving in to stay a while.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Ian said, blushing.

“Yes, you did. I think it’d be cool if they got together,” Simone said.

Ian smiled.

Although they weren’t using the phone any more, both were reluctant to move. The air was charged and Simone recalled the atmosphere when, as Nessa, she had invited Howard in after that wonderful meal.

“Yeah, me too. Only because it’d mean you’d be living with us,” Ian said. Simone moved even closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against her. Familiar feelings started to build inside her, causing her to smile. She discovered she liked these feelings.

On impulse, Simone leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He really was very like his father. She smiled as she realised that like father like son, they’d both managed to arouse her. Not wanting things to progress, she left the phone box, standing in the cold as Ian followed her.

He was looking oddly at her.

“Simone ….”

“Shh, You don’t need to say anything. That was just to say thanks for being a friend, okay?”

He nodded, looking as if he wouldn’t object if she repeated the experience. Not wanting to give him too much of a good thing all at once, smiling, she said goodnight and turned away.

They split up and walked back to their own houses. Ian grinned all the way. She’d kissed him, so he was over the moon.
 

*          *          *
 
Vanessa put the phone down on her daughter.

“That’s a relief. We were both trying to call at the same time, that’s why she wasn’t in her house,” she explained to Howard.

“How did she react?”

“To what?”

“To both the threat and the fact you were coming to stay here for a while.”

“Philosophically. You have to realise that with all she’s been through, Simone is not your average teenager. She’s more grown up than you could ever imagine.”

Howard smiled. “I had gathered that. Once or twice I had to pinch myself to remind myself as to who I was talking to, you or she. You are so alike it’s uncanny.”

“We are very close, but I suppose it’s because of the rough times we’ve shared.”

“That doesn’t explain why she looks and sounds like you. I admit she is much younger, but she dresses and behaves like an adult.”

“Howard, she’s more than a daughter to me, she’s more like my sister.”

Howard smiled and nodded.

“I don’t disagree, I’m just so pleased you feel you can come to me for help. I know Ian is potty over her, I just hope he isn’t too young for her taste.”

Vanessa chuckled, thinking how close Nessa came to going to bed with the father. This was a really strange situation.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. He’s sufficiently like his father, so she’ll find him charming and hunky too.”

Howard flushed as that was an indication of how Vanessa felt about him.

“Nessa, I..”

“Howard, I know what you’re going to say. Just give me a little time, okay?” she asked, interrupting him.

He smiled and nodded.

“I understand. I just wanted you to know that I really do love you.”

Vanessa went over to him and kissed his cheek.

“I know, I have deep feelings for you too, but I need to know what they are. I’m so afraid of making another mistake. It isn’t your fault, but Richard hurt me deeply.”

He reached out and gently pulled her close. He held her, gently but firmly.

“I understand. I hurt too, that’s why you make me feel so good. The hurt goes away when you’re with me.”

She looked up into his eyes and was surprised at the depth of tenderness she saw there. Slowly he bent his head down towards her. She knew what he was doing and did nothing to prevent it. His lips touched hers, so softly and gently that she found herself melting into his embrace and responding with building passion.

Howard, having kissed this woman only once before, was again surprised at the degree of passion with which Vanessa returned the kiss. Her arms encircled his neck, her hands gently caressing his shoulders. Grasping her more firmly, he pulled her tightly against him, feeling himself becoming aroused.

The kiss stretched on and on, as both lost themselves in the moment. The hurts they had both suffered had caused an emotional vacuum and a sexual void in each of their lives.

This vacuum disintegrated as the hurts diminished by the second.

Vanessa was overwhelmed with unfamiliar feelings. No, that wasn’t strictly true, as they were familiar, but she just hadn’t experienced them for a very long time.

All she knew was that she wanted this man. She didn’t know whether she loved him, but she certainly wanted him very badly. Howard, on the other hand, was in no doubt at all. He loved this woman with all his heart and soul. To possess her was not an issue, as he wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. The signals she was giving gave him hope.

The kiss eventually broke off. Howard didn’t release her, but looked into those eyes he had come to love.

“Nessa..”

“Oh, Howard, shut up and take me to bed,” she said, kissing him again.
 
 
Chapter 25
 
 
“Sir, one of the Hobart brothers was making obvious enquiries about the whereabouts of Susannah Williamson,” a detective Sergeant informed his boss.

“When?” Ted Harris asked.

“A couple of days ago. A neighbour in Scotland called into Crimestoppers after a large Cockney man knocked on her door asking about her. She took his car number and it comes back to a Norman Hobart. He’s Terry Hobart’s brother.”

“I know Norman, he’s an idiot. Any sign of Phil? He’s the crafty one of the three.”

“No sir.”

“Get onto the local nick, see if the Local Intelligence office has anything on the car he uses. The chances are they’ve split up and are seeking their quarries independently. Norman is the muscle and Phil will get him to do any dirty work, but he’ll never be far away.”

“Yes sir, do you want us to contact New Zealand, in case they try anything there?”

“Yes, but I think McDonagh’s influence isn’t as great as it used to be.”

“What about the other Mrs Williamson and the boy?”

Superintendent Harris smiled.

“Leave that one with me,” he said, picking up the telephone. The sergeant left.

He let the phone ring and then when the answer phone clicked in he left a message for Vanessa to call him at the earliest opportunity. Putting the phone down, he swore.

“Damn you, Eddie, why the hell can’t you just lie down and take your comeuppance?”

He picked up his phone again and ordered his car to be ready in five minutes. He smiled, he always liked visiting the Williamsons, they were just so different.
 

*          *          *
 
Vanessa cooked Howard a full breakfast before he went to work. Both were tired, but it was a nice kind of tired. Neither could recall such a night of passion, ever, and Vanessa had woken up next to the man she with whom she believed she was now in love.

Lying there, naked and still glowing after such a night, she watched him sleep in the dim dawn light. In their haste to bed, each other they had neglected to pull the curtains in Howard’s bedroom.

Howard looked so peaceful and Vanessa stroked his bristly face with her hand.

He opened an eye and smiled. “It wasn’t a dream?” he said.

She shook her head, smiling back at him.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too, Howard. I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

They made love again, slowly and very tenderly. As she felt him possess her, Vanessa felt many of her burdens dissipate, making her feel almost free for the first time in an age.

As he ate his breakfast, she sat opposite him at the small kitchen table, drinking her coffee and smiling. She was wearing his large towelling dressing gown, looking so sexy and erotic that Howard was having difficulty not reaching out to make love to her again.

“What time will you be back?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I have a meeting in Reading and have to meet a potential client at three. I should be back by five. What will you do?”

“I’ll pop home, collect some clothes and stuff, and then I’ll go to the supermarket and do a little shopping.”

“Are you going back to work?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I’ll call the office and let them know what’s happening.”

He smiled. “Thanks,” he said.

“What for?”

“Being here, being you and being lovely.”

She smiled in return. “Wait until you get my bill,” she said, teasing him. He laughed.

He finished his breakfast and took the plate to the sink.

“That was wonderful, I can’t remember the last time I had breakfast cooked for me. Theresa never managed to get up in time.”

“Howard, please, can I ask one thing of you?”

He turned towards her. “What?”

“No comparisons, we’re not the same as those who have gone before, so never compare me to her, please?”

“I’m sorry. There really is no comparison, but I’ll try.”

“I’m so nervous about life in any case, if we are to find happiness, it must be through what we have and not through what we used to have. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense, my love. Will you marry me now?”

Vanessa smiled. “Probably, but I think it wise we let things settle down a bit.”

A sudden thought hit him. “Vanessa, I’ve just realised we used no protection!”

She stared at him, the same thought now permeating her being. The impact of possible consequences dawned on her. How could she have not thought about it?

Then she discovered she didn’t actually care. In fact, it would give her a shove in the direction she wanted to go in any case. Far from being upset or distressed, she found she almost wanted to have his baby. She smiled.

“Then you’ll just have to marry me to make an honest woman out of me!”

Howard stared at her and then laughed. “I’ll never understand women!” he said, kissing her goodbye.

Vanessa watched him drive to work and then went and had a long, luxurious soak in the bath. As she lay there, covered in bubbles, she wondered what her daughter would say if she knew. Strangely, she felt she’d have to get Simone’s approval before she made any decision about marriage.
 

*          *          *
 
Simone was, at that moment, struggling with some apparatus in the Chemistry lab. Science wasn’t her subject, so adding chemicals to other chemicals to produce smells and strange bubbling sounds wasn’t really something that grabbed her.

She was also feeling shitty due to a monthly visitor. She took it out on Ian who was just being too bloody clingy, helpful and nice to be true. Unaware of the reasons, but realising that Simone needed some space, Ian took a step away from her, unwittingly opening the doors to competition.

For one cannot suddenly introduce females into a previously all male domain and expect there to be no rivalry for the attentions of those females. Simone was one of just eight such females, notwithstanding the claim that Ian had already declared, others viewed the pretty teen with predatory desire.

For, although only thirteen, she was sufficiently attractive for boys in the older groups to notice her. One in particular was Tony Casterman, a tall seventeen year old, already in line to be head-boy next year.

After her chemistry lesson had finished, Simone was descending the steps from the Science block when she dropped a ring binder. Needless to say the offending article sprung open, scattering the fifty A4 sheets to the four winds.

“Fuck!” she declared, forgetting she wasn’t Nessa any more and therefore able to swear with adult impunity.

Tony happened to be passing at that moment.

Startled by such an expletive from such a pretty girl, he had to smile and help her gather up the errant pages. As he watched Simone picking up the papers, he could only admire her trim figure and strikingly pretty face. Aware of the girls, but considering them too young for him, he reappraised this particular girl being in such close proximity for the first time.

He tried to gauge her age, and failed. Aware only the all the girls were thirteen or fourteen, he found Simone had the appearance of being older than that.

“Thanks,” she said, breathlessly and with a delightful smile of perfect white teeth.

“You’re welcome. I’m Tony Casterman.”

“I know, I’m Simone Strickland.”

“I know. There’re only eight of you. I’m confused, I thought you were all third or fourth year?”

“I’m fourth year, why?”

“You look older, that’s all.”

She laughed, a delightful sound. “I’ve had a tough life. No, really, I suppose I matured early, so give that impression. I’d better go, I’m late,” she said, running off, but giving him one last wonderful smile.

Tony made his way to his study. As a sixth former, much of his time was his own to undertake work for his ‘A’ levels. As he entered his house, Ron Carlyle, his best friend, saw him.

“Tony, where’ve you been? I thought you would have been here ages ago.”

“I just bumped into one of the girls. Have you noticed that Simone?”

Ron grinned.

“Who hasn’t? She’s going to be fucking gorgeous when she gets older.”

“No when, mate, she’s fucking gorgeous already.”

“Careful, boy, she’s only thirteen.”

“Never?”

“Yeah, check the school list if you don’t believe me. I think she’s fourteen next month.”

“But she’s stacked, man.”

“Stacked or not, she’s jail-bait!”

“Jail bait or not, she’s really gorgeous.”

“Leave it, Tony, you don’t need shit like that during ‘A’ levels,” his friend warned him, but Tony wasn’t listening. A certain little lady’s smile was haunting him.

After lunch, Simone and Sam played badminton. At the other end of the gym the judo class started. The girls stopped playing and watched for a while.

“This looks fun,” said Simone.

“What, rolling around on a mat with hunky boys?” Sam asked, with a smile.

Simone grinned.

Both girls laughed.

Mr Venner, wearing his white Judo suit with a black belt tied around his waist, noticed the girls. Letting the boys practice, he approached them.

“Well, interested in joining in?” he asked.

“Yes, it looks fun,” Simone answered.

“Okay, come with me and we’ll see if there are any old suits that will fit you.”

Sam wasn’t that convinced, but she went with Simone anyway.

Mr Venner found two old, but perfectly clean and serviceable suits.

“Put these on, I’d leave your, um, you know, your sports thingies on underneath and a tee shirt.”

“You mean our sports bras, sir?” Simone asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Paul Venner went red and simply nodded.

Giggling, the girls went to the female changing room and changed into the suits. Returning to the gym, they spent the next hour being instructed in the basics of the sport.

The boys were all grinning, but were disappointed when Mr Venner didn’t let them spar with the two girls. However, Mr Venner found an inexplicable increase in interest in Judo club thereafter, as the numbers of boys joining tripled in a week.
 

*          *          *
 
Ted Harris was frustrated as there was no reply at the Williamson home. Aware that Simone was at a local boarding school, the Superintendent, getting back into his car, made his way there, hoping that nothing untoward had happened to Vanessa.

Unaware of the interest in her welfare, the latter was standing in line at Sainsburys waiting to pay for her trolley load of groceries. It was odd shopping for a man again. She realised just how little she knew about him, as she wandered up and down the aisles. She didn’t know his likes or dislikes, his favourite foods or wines. She smiled, as it was going to be fun finding out.

She reached the end of the queue and had begun to unload her items onto the conveyor when a loud shriek caught her attention.

“Nessa!”

It was her friend Roz, queuing at the adjacent checkout.

“Oh, hi Roz.”

“Where have you been over the last couple of days? I’ve been ringing and ringing.”

“I’m staying with a friend. With all the problems with Richard, I’ve been advised to stay away from the house until things quieten down.”

“You could have stayed with us, you know that?”

“I know Roz, but you’re rather too close, so I felt I’d be better off some way away. I wouldn’t want to put you and the family in danger.”

Roz changed lines to be behind Vanessa.

“So, where are you staying?”

“With a friend in Watlington.”

Roz frowned. “Do I know her?”

“No, Roz, you don’t. And, he’s not a her.”

Roz’s eyes widened and she smiled. “Good for you girl, I thought you were looking far more relaxed.”

“Roz!”

“Well, it’s about time. You can’t shut yourself away like a nun forever.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. We had endless dinner parties with eligible single men, and you never twitched, not once.”

Vanessa smiled. “Okay, maybe my confidence was a bit battered. I was afraid of involving myself with a man so soon.”

“So soon? It’s been over a year, my dear.”

They had been chatting as the groceries passed through the electric beam. Vanessa had been packing them away into carriers without thinking. She suddenly found herself having to pay.

“What are you doing after this?” Roz asked.

“What, now?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Nothing much. I was going to pop home and collect some stuff, why?”

“Come and have a coffee with me. You can tell me all about him.”

Vanessa smiled and gave in.
 

*          *          *
 
The meeting in Reading went well and it turned into an unexpected working lunch for Howard and his two partners. Two major food companies had just bought their food processing software product, which gave them the potential for an extra quarter of a million pound contract. The client that Howard was intending to meet was in the market for the same product, which meant that some technical tweaking was required before adaptation to the particular system this buyer already had installed.

Both Roger Timpson and Stewart Patterson were amazed at the sudden transformation of their friend and colleague. Howard was more animated and alive than they could remember. He was full of enthusiasm and ideas, so much so that Roger and Stewart looked at each other in surprise.

As they sat round the lunch table, Roger stopped Howard in mid flow.

“Howard, stop, for a second. Tell me, who the hell is she?”

Howard stopped talking, looking at Roger in some surprise.

“What?”

“Howard, you’re behaving like a dog with two dicks. Who’s the lucky lady?”

Howard went bright red. “Is it that obvious?” he asked.

“Yes!” said both his friends, simultaneously.

“Oh. She’s a lady I met through my son’s school. She’s divorced and her ex-husband died in tragic circumstances. Ian befriended her daughter and, well, it seems we have been sort of thrown together.”

“Is she attractive?” Stewart asked.

“I think so.”

“Is she rich?” asked Roger, ever the pragmatist.

“Not especially. But I love her and have asked her to marry me.”

“Good for you, did she accept?”

Howard smiled, thinking back to the last twenty-four hours.

“I rather think so,” he said.
 

*          *          *
 
Lucy returned to her bed-sit, feeling weary and alone, as usual. She planned to make herself a basic meal of pasta and cheese, but after watching East Enders on her small portable TV. Her phone rang. Thinking it was a client, she almost didn’t answer.

Then she thought of Robert and thinking it just could be him, she answered it.

“Hello?”

“Lucy, it’s Robert. You probably don’t remember me, but..”

She smiled. “I remember you,” she said, interrupting him.

“Look, I’m not very good at this sort of thing, but I was hoping we could meet up. Not for anything, you know, anything like, um, well, you know?”

She smiled again, he really was so innocent and naíve.

“Look, I’m really knackered, when?”

“Whenever you want.”

“Would you buy me dinner?”

“Of course, where?”

“I do like Chinese.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

He was gone. She smiled, maybe something good would happen to her for a change.

Robert arrived two minutes early. She had put on an elegant black dress and wore a dark matching bolero style jacket. Made up and dressed well, there wasn’t anything about her that displayed her original gender. With breast implants and several months of hormone treatment, she looked like a large, slightly plump young woman and Robert felt like a tongue-tied teenager on his first date.

She’d been working on her voice, having been cursed with a particularly deep one; she’d found it the hardest challenge. As a result, she discovered that by making it husky and quiet, she attained a fair compromise that sounded reasonably feminine, sexy and with a touch of the exotic.

Her job was poorly paid, tiring and arduous, yet for the first time in her life, the other workers were ignorant of her original gender and treated her like the girl she’d always felt she was. This one fact alone gave her an enormous boost to a self-esteem and confidence that had almost disappeared.

“You look delightful,” he finally managed to say.

“Thank you. Look, I need you to understand why I do what I do,” she said.

He was as embarrassed as she was. “No, I don’t need to know. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I’d like us to start over. You owe me nothing. I just feel so bad about what happened. This was all new to me, and I still don’t really know why I called you. I’m just glad I did.”

He opened the car door for her, and she got in. She then directed him to a restaurant she knew. He parked the car close by and they walked to the restaurant, where they were given a nice table towards the rear of the premises, slightly secluded from the other diners.

Robert had never met anyone quite like Lucy before. He was at a bit of a loss how to deal with the whole situation. Lucy, on the other hand, was grateful that a man treated her like a normal woman for almost the first time in her life.

They ordered their meal and sat talking. After a few moments of trivialities, they began to share seriously with each other. Both were pleasantly surprised.

Robert found Lucy to be a sensitive soul, whose Gender Dysphoria and family rejection had forced her to forge a new life bereft of friends and support. As a result, she had become insular, lonely and selfish by virtue of her circumstances, forced to lower herself simply in order to survive. This, in turn demeaned her own self-image, and made her feel dirty.

Lucy, on the other hand, found Robert a highly intelligent and complex man, suffering sexual confusion and emotionally starved by his dysfunctional parents and their austere academic lifestyle. His sexual and gender confusion was owed, in part at least, to a domineering mother and a largely absent father.

Deprived of a well-balanced family life, he found it hard to function on a social level with women. Certainly, he’d never managed to form a meaningful relationship with a woman, and terrified that he might be gay, he’d deliberately led a celibate life up to now. However, his experience with Lucy had on one hand, troubled him, in that he enjoyed passive sex, but convinced him that he was more fulfilled with actively taking the masculine role, and if nothing else, he was forming some clarity in his confusion.

Suddenly, their differences seemed irrelevant, as they found in the other a kindred spirit and someone with whom they didn’t need to pretend, or want to.

“So, this school you teach at, is it all boys or what?” Lucy asked.

“It used to be, but they started taking girls this term. There are only eight in a pilot scheme.”

“Lucky things, how many boys are there?”

“Three hundred.”

“It must be hard in an all boy school for a boy with problems like mine,” she said.

“Yes, it must be. I don’t think I’ve ever come across anyone quite like you. However, it may be they hide it well.”

“I hid it for years, until I couldn’t hide it any longer. I got very good at pretending”

They were silent as the waiter brought their food. Robert was not used to Chinese food and trusted Lucy to select for him. He found the exotic dishes exciting and after she showed him how to eat, and in which combination, he enjoyed it immensely.

“I feel embarrassed now,” he said, after she had shared more of her life with him.

“You, why?”

“After what we did. I feel ashamed and, well, I feel dirty somehow.”

He was clearly mortified and she felt very sorry for him. She reached across the table and took his hand.

“I feel dirty all the time. I keep telling myself that it isn’t really me, and that once I finish the surgery I can just lead a normal life. But I know I’m fooling no one, I need the money and that’s all there is to it. I haven’t got any family to help, so if I don’t do it this way, then I have to look at other ways that are far more dangerous!”

“I beg to differ. What you are doing holds all manner of risks of disease and potential violence. I can hardly think of you without being afraid for you.”

Lucy felt tears come to her eyes.

“You think of me?” she asked, still holding his hand.

“Constantly!” he admitted, with an embarrassed smile.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. This is very new for me. It’s funny, but I just feel for all our differences, we have something in common.”

She smiled and cried at the same time, with Robert looking awkward and concerned.

“You weren’t my first!” she said, hoping it wouldn’t frighten him away.

“I rather gathered that,” he replied with a small smile. “I may be slightly naíve and innocent about sexual matters, but I am neither stupid nor am I unaware of the ways of the world.” He paused, frowning. Lucy got the impression he was trying to find the right words to say something and was having difficulty.

“Look,” he said. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I want to do something to help you. It drives me mad thinking of you having to stoop so low to take money for sex. I know I was one of those horrible people to drag you to that level, but I find myself wanting to help you to find some dignity, somehow.” His voice trailed off, as tears rolled down Lucy’s face.

“You’d do that for me?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I find myself caring, and it is a very new experience for me.”

“But, you know what I am, what I was!”

“Yes, and I don’t care. I find I want to help you become the person of the future - a woman with self-esteem and dignity. A woman who can lead a normal life and not have to keep looking over her shoulder.”

Lucy gripped his hand so tightly that it hurt. He didn’t care, as he could see that for the first time in his life, he actually thought of someone else and he experienced the pleasure of finding that by simply caring, it made a difference.

They continued eating their meal, the conversation moving onto lighter things. Despite dropping out of school at sixteen, Lucy was an avid reader, developing a taste for the romantic novel. Unable to afford DVD players and such like, she sought most of her escapism through the written word.

“I’d like to be able to write my own book,” she said.

“Why don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t know how to start. Besides, who’d read it?”

“What would you write; fiction or an autobiography?”

“Oh, fiction, not enough has happened to me yet.”

“I think your story would be very moving,” he told her.

She smiled, unable to deal with so many compliments.

“You’re an English teacher, could you show me how to write?”

“I’d love to.”

The both smiled, looking at the empty dishes.

“Did we eat all that?” he asked.

She nodded. “I was ever so hungry. I don’t eat very much on my own. I’m a bit overweight as it is, so I have to be careful as the female hormones I have to take can make me fat. It’s nice to have a meal like this occasionally.”

Robert waved to the waiter, asking for the bill.

“Do you live in the school or what?”

“No, I have my own house. When my mother died, I sold the family home in Cambridge and bought a cottage. I was able to invest some of the rest of the proceeds for my retirement.”

“I take it you live alone?”

He smiled and nodded. “I’m not very good with women, as a rule anyway.”

“I’m not a….”

“Don’t ever say that!” he said, crossly.

“But…”

“No, Lucy. You are a beautiful girl, and soon you’ll be perfect!”

Lucy stared at him, her mouth open. Her eyes filled with tears and she seemed to crumple onto his shoulder.

He paid the bill, as she snivelled into his lapel. He was as confused as ever, for here was a person that had seemed so in control, and now she seemed so fragile.

She recovered and they left the restaurant.

They said nothing during the short walk to the car, she clung to his arm, and he felt proud to have her with him.

He unlocked the car and she got in.

He walked round and got into the drivers seat. He started the car.

Turning to her, he asked. “I don’t suppose you’d like to see my cottage?”

She smiled. “Yes, Robert, I’d love to see your cottage.”
 
 
Chapter 26
 
 
Simone felt very odd holding a rugby ball again. She was standing on the touchline dressed in her tracksuit with several of the Junior Colts, the team for which Ian played.

It had been an accident, but on the previous weekend, one of the opposing team sustained an injury which meant their reserve and touch judge had to play in the team as the injured boy came off with a suspected broken collarbone.

The girls were watching the Junior Colts, so Simone absently acted as touch judge, as there was no one else doing the job. Mr Hunter, the Junior Colts coach saw a potential morale booster, and after the match asked Simone if she’d like the job for all home fixtures. Obviously, the substitute was the touch judge for the away matches.

The boys all thought that this was a fantastic idea and in the first match, Simone conducted the task admirably. Wearing a tight pair of shorts and an equally tight rugby shirt, the school could have been accused of employing outrageous gamesmanship. However, it has to be said that ALL male eyes were distracted in the throw-ins and not solely the opposition.

It didn’t help that it was quite cold, and so Simone’s nipples reacted in a very natural but highly distracting manner. Mr Hunter advised her to wear a loose-fitting tracksuit in future.

Here she was, warming up with the boys. She was encouraged to run up the pitch with them and even joined the three quarters passing the ball back and forth. She smiled as it all came back. Her new gender didn’t mean she had forgotten or lost all her old skills, and those apparent skills surprised more than one person watching.

There were several gasps of astonishment as the opposing team, from Godstone School, saw an obvious female warming up with the team, prompting their coach to seek out Mr Hunter.

“John what the hell is going on?”

“Hello Peter, what do you mean?” John Hunter asked, knowing full well what was coming.

Peter Whiteman pointed to the tall auburn haired beauty, running with the backs and showing considerable ball-handling skills.

“You’ve a girl in the team!”

John feigning surprise, turned and looked at his team.

“Where?”

“There! With the ball now!”

“Oh, that’s just Simone.”

“Just Simone, excuse me, you can’t have a girl play on the side.”

“Why not?” asked John, teasing his colleague.

Peter Whiteman blustered and found he couldn’t answer.

“Actually, Simone is the touch judge. There’s a rule about girls playing in mixed teams, but I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?”

Peter relaxing slightly, laughed and found the funny side. Both men watched the girl for a few moments.

Unaware she was under scrutiny; Simone kicked the ball to the full back who was about fifty metres away. The punt was accurate, and had the perfect length. The full back didn’t have to move, catching the ball neatly.

The full back returned it, and Simone had to sprint across the field catching a very awkward ball. Laughing, she kicked it to Ian, who caught it and passed it to another team member. The Captain called them together, and she jogged to the side, picking up her flag.

“She’s very impressive. Have you thought about putting together a girls’ team?”

John Hunter was amazed. The girl was a natural, her skills were on a par with some of the boys in the team, and he was thinking along similar lines to Peter.

“I have now,” he admitted. “But, we’ve only eight girls.”

“I tell you what, I’ll get a scratch sevens team of some of the girls in our third and fourth forms. We could have a single charity match at the end of this term, what do you say?” Peter asked.

John smiled. “That sounds brilliant. I only hope the others are as promising as Simone.”

Both men looked at the girl. Both were imagining playing against a team of slightly older Simones, both smiling wistfully, but then they went and gave pep talks to their respective teams.
 

*          *          *
 
Phil and Norman managed to meet up in Littlehampton. Phil felt very frustrated; as there didn’t seem to be any way he could get access to Wiseman.

“Why don’t we get him when he goes to court?” Norman asked. “He’s due at Snaresbrook Crown Court next month.”

Phil sighed. “Norm, that’s when he’s guarded more closely than at any other time, you thick twat!”

Norman frowned. “Only when he’s in the court. He’s got to wait somewhere.”

“Norman, you plonker, he’s kept in the cells with Old Bill and security people everywhere.”

“Oh.”

Despite putting his brother down, a germ of an idea was beginning in Phil’s twisted and highly imaginative brain.

“Look, we ain’t going to get to him here, let’s go onto number three,” he said, and the men altered their focus to Oxfordshire.

“Where’s little Milton?” Norman asked.

“Fuck knows, but we’ll soon find out. This one should be easy, a woman on her own and a boy in a boarding school.”

“Won’t there be people around at the school?”

“Maybe, but we just gotta be careful, that’s all.”

“Which one first?”

“The woman, then the kid.”

“I don’t think it’s right.”

“Norm, you plonker, don’t worry about that, this is enough money to keep you in tottie and booze for the rest of your natural!”

Norman frowned and Phil, knowing his brother as well as he did, realised that he was going to have to do this himself.

“Look, you stay here, keep an eye on this Wiseman. If you get a chance, just run the fucker over with the van, okay?”

Norman nodded, and Phil had a nasty feeling that this cash was never going to materialise. He started thinking who else he could bring into this, but just couldn’t think of anyone. Loads of vicious blokes he knew talked a good job, but when it actually came to it, few would have the balls to go through with it.

“Norm, we have to do this, alright?”

Norman nodded.

“Wiseman shit on his mates, he bubbled them up to the Old Bill and did a deal to get a lighter sentence, you know what we do to grasses?”

Norman nodded, more confidently this time.

“Right, you stay here, and if you see the fucker, take him out!”

“Yeah, all right.”

Phil packed, checking his map and then got in his car — destination, Little Milton.
 

*          *          *
 
Vanessa shut up the house; content she had all she needed for a few weeks. She could always return with Howard if she needed anything, feeling less uneasy as she drove away.

The house was less of a home, these days. What with everything that had happened, the vulnerability and seclusion that had once been a positive feature now made her nervous. It was also far too big for the two of them, particularly as Simone was at school for two thirds of the year.

Financially, things were still tight. The mortgage was paid, but she still had to run the big house, pay school fees, possibly through University, and then she had to think about Simone driving. Her job was becoming less and less attractive and the potential capital in the house was looking more and more attractive.

She drove back to Howard’s house, parking on the drive. It was a large five bedroom Georgian house, in white, in about an acre of mature garden on the north of the town. The garden had a large lawn to the south, a tennis court to the west, and a small orchard to the rear, with a vegetable garden with greenhouses and sheds. There was a separate garage block with a small flat above.

All the rooms had high ornate ceilings, and the kitchen was a vast room, recently modernised at no little expense. Howard liked antiques, and so the house was wonderfully furnished with genuine antique furniture, paintings and will appropriate curtains and soft furnishings. His study, on the other hand was a curious blend of the old and new. An antique desk with leather chair dominated the room, but the ultra modern PC with plasma screen sat there looking as if it didn’t really belong. He’d had a flat screen TV fitted to the wall, and a modern music system was plumbed into the study, but the sound system speakers were in several rooms downstairs, including the kitchen and dining room.

The carpets and curtains were in colours she found pleasing, and to be honest, she liked the whole package. She took her cases up to the bedroom, where she took over the empty wardrobe used up to their divorce by Theresa.

Feeling a pang of guilt, she called Trevor Goodman at the office.

Trevor was faintly surprised to hear from her. She explained her difficulties in vague terms, highlighting the legal battles that still had to be undertaken. Trevor suggested that she simply hand in her notice and, should circumstances change, request to return as and when things became more settled.

It was with enormous relief that she terminated the call, aware now that she was even freer than before. She decided to make Howard a special dinner, to celebrate the fact it was Wednesday.
 

*          *          *
 
It took Phil four hours to get to Little Milton. It took him twenty minutes to find the house. He parked up the lane and walked up to the drive.

Looking about him, he noticed that the house was reasonably secluded, shielded by trees and hedges. He walked up the drive, noting that there were no vehicles in evidence. Using his mobile, he dialled directory enquiries, asking for Vanessa Williamson, High Standing, Church Lane, Little Milton. He then dialled the number, getting the answer-phone.

Swearing, he approached the house. It was a nice house, the kind of house that rich executives had. He peered in through the windows. No mail on the floor indicated that someone was living here. No lights on, but it was daytime.

He walked to the garage and peered through the window at the side - no cars in the garage. He smiled, believing she was probably out shopping.

He noted the alarm system, the locks on all the doors and windows, and decided to sit and wait in his car. He walked to the village shop, selected a paper, some food and a bottle of Coke, and waited in line to pay.

He was tempted to ask after Mrs Williamson, but decided to keep as low a profile as possible. The two women in front of him were chatting, oblivious to his presence.

“I think it is just awful!” said the first.

“I know, and she’s still quite young. And that poor boy, away at school all the time.”

“Has he been told?”

“I assume so. I mean, they’d have to tell him, wouldn’t they?”

“It isn’t every day that someone from here is shot in cold blood. I wonder why they killed him. I heard the police shot the man that did it.”

“He probably was up to no good. I never liked the look of him, too smooth by far.”

“She was always very pleasant, said hello every time I saw her.”

“She’s very attractive, so she shouldn’t have any problem attracting another husband.”

“There’s the boy, lots of men don’t like taking on teenage boys.”

“He’s a nice boy, well mannered and quiet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him.”

“He’s not here very often. Spends all his time away at school.”

“I think it’s awful the way people do that.”

“Did you hear about young Sophie Robbins?”

“No…….”

Phil’s interest waned. He finally paid for his goods and left, content that his quarry was still in the area. Walking back to his car, he called Norman on the mobile.

“This end shouldn’t be long. How’s things down there?”

“Alright, I still haven’t seen him.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Phil settled down to wait Mrs Williamson’s return.
 

*          *          *
 
Pc Mark Clark was driving his marked Vauxhall Astra in Arundel, past Ford Open Prison’s main gate. Ford had been a Fleet Air Arm establishment prior to its conversion to a prison in 1960. Most of the buildings dated from that time, housing five hundred and seventy one men.

The Police occasionally received calls to the prison, but largely, the inmates were not a high risk. Many were long-term prisoners, transferred here for rehabilitation prior to release back into the wild.

Mark noticed a white Transit van parked up a side road, within a few hundred yards of the main gate. He drove slowly past it, noting the index number. On undertaking a check, he discovered that the van wasn’t stolen, but it came back to an East London company that had told the Licensing authority it was no longer the keeper.

He turned his car round, returning to the van. Noting that a single white male sat behind the wheel, he parked up behind it, calling in to his control room with what he was doing. He got out of his car and approached the van.

He was slightly wary, but knew that there was no real risk of an escape attempt from Ford, as they were almost free to come and go as they pleased.

The driver jumped as he appeared at the window. Mark got the impression that the man was living in the van. As Norman wound the window down, Mark could smell stale sweat, unwashed body and various stale food smells. Empty crisp packets, coke cans and similar littered the passenger seat.

“Hello mate, what are you doing here?” Mark asked.

Norman was flustered. He didn’t like coppers, as he’d only been out of prison for about six weeks. He didn’t want to go back.

“Er, waiting,” he replied.

“For who or what?”

“Eh?”

“Who are you waiting for?”

“My mate.”

“Your mate. Where is he?”

“I dunno, that’s why I’m waiting.”

“Why are you waiting for him?”

“Um, because I’m taking him to, er, to, um, to a job.”

“What kind of job?” asked the policeman, now convinced that this man was definitely up to something.

“Decorating, we’re decorators.”

“What’s in the back?”

Norman stared at Mark, blinking vacantly.

“Eh?”

“The van, what’s in the back?”

Norman frowned. Apart from his sleeping bag and some clothes, the back of the van was empty. Oh, and the shotgun.

Norman frowned again. He didn’t want the copper to open the back.

“Nothing, it’s empty.”

“Show me, what’s your name, anyway?” Mark said, opening the driver’s door and stepping back.

Norman went to put a foot out, fiddling with the keys in the ignition, pretending he was taking them out to unlock the rear doors.

“John Smith,” said Norman, switching the ignition on, engaging first gear and flooring the accelerator. The van launched out of the side road, door still open, narrowly missing a bus travelling along the main road.

Seconds later, Mark was in his police car and in pursuit, giving a commentary on his radio.

The Ford Transit was large and lumbering, but the Astra wasn’t the fastest car in the world. However, Mark was able to follow until a more powerful traffic patrol car took over. They went onto the A29, heading towards Dorking and London. The van left Sussex, entering Surrey.

Traffic was quite heavy, as it was late afternoon and the rush hour had started. The officers were amazed at the recklessness of the driver of the van. Speculation was rife as to his identity, but then some bright spark thought to tie the location of the stop check in with a circular about a possible attack on a prisoner in Ford. After some delay, eventually the circular was located and a photograph of Norman Hobart was found attached to it.

The officer’s description matched the photograph. A warning for violence and weapons flashed on the screen when they ran him through the computer.

The Surrey Police Armed Response Vehicle joined the chase, taking over from the Sussex traffic officer. PC Mark Clark hung on, as the initiating officer, he wanted to see this through.

Norman was panicking. He didn’t intend using the shotgun, he just wanted to get rid of it so he couldn’t be nicked with it in his possession. The police were too close and he glanced up, seeing a police helicopter above him.

He had hit six private cars so far and a decision was made by the control room to use a spike strip. As he rounded a bend on the outskirts of Dorking, a strip was deployed from the roadside and all four van tyres were rapidly deflated.

Driving on the metal wheel rims, Norman was crying in anger and frustration. Police cars boxed him in and he had to come to a halt. He jumped over the seat, scrabbling for the shotgun, which wasn’t loaded.

The rear door opened.

Time started going in slow motion.

Norman was standing, slightly hunched over due to the low roof. In his left hand was the sawn off shotgun. Two cartridges were in his right hand. His mouth dropped open as he stared down the barrels of two MP5 H& K carbines clutched by two officers high on adrenaline.

“Armed Police! Drop the gun, now!”

Norman froze, the unloaded gun still in his hand.

“Drop the weapon, do it now! Do it now!” an officer screamed at him.

He dropped the weapon and the cartridges, urinating inside his trousers as he began to cry. Officers removed him from the van and placed him face down on the tarmac to the rear of the van.

PC Mark Clark came forward as they put the arrested man in the rear of a police van. He looked in the front of the Transit, finding a mobile phone, a list of names and a map of the Prison and surrounding area.

An hour later Superintendent Harris was telephoned. As a result of the call, the Chief Constable of the Thames Valley Police was called at home and shortly after that, a TVP ARV was deployed to Little Milton with a description of Philip Hobart.
 
 
Chapter 27
 
 
Ketterham Junior Colts won their match. Many believed it due, in part at any rate, to the enthusiastic touch judge, who managed to distract the opponents during every line out.

As Simone watched the match, she found herself missing the game. Everything else about being a girl was wonderful, but she would like to be able to play this game. Mr Hunter hadn’t spoken to her about his plans, as he’d have to speak to the Headmaster first, as would his colleague, Peter Whiteman, from Godstone School.

She joined the teams for tea afterwards, but was quite subdued. Ian saw her looking slightly down in the mouth and came over to her as they were leaving the dining room.

“Why the long face?”

“I miss it, Ian,” she said quietly, to avoid eves-droppers.

“What, rugger?”

She nodded.

“Maybe you could play with us next time?”

“No, they don’t allow mixed games.”

“Why not?”

“Duh! Guess?”

“Oh, I see. Mind you, I wouldn’t mind groping you in the scrum,” he said with a cheeky smile.

She looked at him. “I don’t think I’d mind either, but it’s not allowed.”

“Pity!”

She smiled then, transforming her face completely. Ian ached to tell her what he felt about her, but was so terrified of losing her by being too soon.

He looked about them and, on seeing no one close, he asked her a question.

“Would you like to change back, then?”

Simone’s eyes went wide with surprise and she shook her head violently.

“No way. I like being a girl far too much!”

“I saw old Casterman chatting you up in the library this morning during break.”

“So?”

“He seems to spend a lot of time talking to you these days.”

Simone looked at Ian. She realised he was jealous. His eyes had this haunted look; she had been wondering why he’d been so miserable and distant lately.

She felt a little cross with him for being proprietary, but relented, understanding what he must be feeling.

“I spend more time with you, with the play, remember?” she said, reminding him.

“I know, but…”

“But?”

Ian looked desperate now, as if he was trying to find the courage to say something that would consume him once uttered.

“I love you, Simone!” he said, rather too loudly than he intended.

Two third formers overheard and ran off giggling.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, I….”

She stopped him by resting her hand against his lips.

“Shh, you don’t have to apologise.”

“But..”

“Ian, don’t be silly. I’m pleased and flattered that you’ve managed to say it. I think I knew, though.”

“You knew, why did you make it so hard for me?”

“Because I’m a girl and that’s my job,” she said, smiling at his discomfort.

“But..”

“Ian, you’re special to me too. I’m fourteen next week and you’re only a little older than me. Unlike my Mum and your Dad, we don’t have to jump into bed with each other as time is running out. So, I don’t mind being your girlfriend until someone better than me comes along,”

“Better than you? Oh, Simone, that couldn’t ever happen. You’re the best in the world!”

She smiled and kissed him.

She smiled as she did so, as it wasn’t that different to kissing his father, only less bristles and not as experienced.

Mr Hunter came past. “Put him down, Strickland, you might catch something!” he said and walked off grinning to himself. Lucky boy, that Ian Jamieson.
 

*          *          *
 
Ted Harris had the mobile phone on the table. He also had the list. Norman Hobart sat opposite him and a solicitor, ironically from Robert Wiseman’s old office sat in the chair next to him. A detective Sergeant was also present.

Norman had answered ‘no comment’ to all questions so far and Ted was getting cross.

“Norman, you are looking at life imprisonment for conspiracy to four murders, firearms offences, dangerous driving, failing to stop for police, resist arrest, no insurance and anything else we can think about. As yet no one has been hurt, but the more you piss me about, the more likely it is that someone is going to die. If that happens, you will go away for a very long time.

“Cooperate, and at least I can tell the judge that you helped prevent a tragedy!”

Norman looked at his solicitor.

“May I have some time to consult with my client?” the solicitor asked. She was a young girl, Ted thought she looked about twelve, but she had to be at least twenty-five.

“Interview terminated for consultation at eight forty p.m.,” he said, for the benefit of the tape.

He switched the tapes off and marched out of the interview room.

“Any news from the TVP?” he asked the Custody Sergeant.

“No sir.”

“Damn!”

Norman had been transferred up to London as soon as practicable. Sussex and Surrey were only too happy to pass the work over, as long as their men were given the credit of the arrest.

New Zealand Police had been appraised of the risks to Mrs Susannah Williamson (now Clarke), but they were satisfied that the risk was reduced to being almost negligible. However, the risks to Vanessa and Simon (Simone) were very real and Ted was seriously concerned for their safety.

“DI Jones from TVP, on the line for you sir,” said a constable.

He took the phone.

He listened for a while and then thanked the man, giving the phone back.

“Mrs Williamson isn’t at home. She took our advice, it seems.”
 

*          *          *
 
Phil saw the police car before it saw him. It was dark and his small VW was dark and parked out of sight.

The Police car was a big Vauxhall Omega estate with blacked out windows. Phil realised that this was probably an ARV and his stomach churned with fear. That meant that the Old Bill knew that someone was after her. That in turn meant either Wiseman had told them or Norman had been arrested.

He knew his brother well. He might be dim but he was fiercely loyal. He’d never grass.

The police officers covered similar ground to that he had done earlier, coming to the same conclusion; that the lady was out. The police car remained parked in front of the house, so Phil started the engine, driving slowly away with his lights out until he knew he was in the clear.

He checked the address of the school.

“Okay kid, they can’t be everywhere,” he said aloud, picking up his mobile phone, he rang his brother.

Ted looked at the ringing mobile. Norman was back in his cell, having decided not to say anything else.

The technician looked at the Superintendent.

“Sir?”

Ted nodded.

The phone went to message system. He waited and then retrieved the message.

“Norm, it’s me. Call me back, you silly fucker. The Old Bill are staked out on the other wife, I’m going to the school. Pull out from the prison, we’ll get him later.”

Ted was off, shouting for his car and scrabbling to call the TVP control room on his mobile phone.
 

*          *          *
 
Ian and Simone were with the other cast members in the theatre. It was play rehearsal evening and Mr Griffiths seemed more cheerful and relaxed than anyone could remember. There was a tall, slightly plump young woman in her twenties sitting in the auditorium, simply watching.

They ran through the scenes, line by line, action by action. Simone wasn’t in the third scene, so she and a couple of the others went to sit in the auditorium to watch. It was the second time they’d actually done the rehearsal on the stage and Simone found it fun.

She sat next to the tall woman.

“Hello,” Simone said.

“Hi,” said the woman.

“Are you a friend of Mr Griffiths?”

The woman smiled. “Yes, yes I am,” she replied in a deep and husky voice.

“Cool.”

They watched the play, yet Simone had something niggle at her about the woman next to her. She surreptitiously observed the woman and it dawned on her what was different. As time progressed, she became convinced that the woman had not always been what she appeared as now.

Her first thought was of Professor Burton and his machine. But how the hell do you start a conversation about that?

She had to go back on stage and take part in several scenes, but by the end, she had forgotten until she saw the woman walking away arm in arm with Mr Griffiths.

“Cor, Old Groper Griffiths has a girl friend,” said Andy ‘Filly’ Phillips, the boy responsible for Simon catching the female lead all those months ago.

“Hmm,” said Simone.

“What’s that mean?” asked Ian.

Simone smiled, “Nothing, it’s better now, as he doesn’t keep ogling me.”

“Why? Everyone else does,” said Filly, grinning.

“Not you too?” she asked.

He looked down, blushing.

She laughed and took Ian’s hand, much to that boy’s delight.

“Be careful, my boyfriend is the jealous type, he’ll beat you up.”

They were walking across from the theatre when a car pulled up along side them.

The window rolled down and a male voice spoke.

“Excuse me?”

They went over.

“Yes?” Ian said.

“Hello sonny, I’ve a message for a boy here, and can’t find any of your teachers. Do you know where Simon Williamson is?”

Simone felt as if icy fingers grabbed her by the heart. She could hardly breathe.

Filly came forward.

“He doesn’t come here any more. His parents divorced and he had to leave.”

Ian looked at Simone, seeing the panic and fear on her face. Leaving Filly talking to the man, he casually walked over to her and, taking her arm, gently led her towards the Headmaster’s house at the bottom of the drive. As soon as they were out of sight, they broke into a run.

Jacob Carter was watching the ten o’clock news on the television. His wife was doing some needlepoint in her chair and he was relaxed. A sudden thundering startled him, until he realised it came from his front door.

He went and opened it, being almost knocked over by Ian and Simone as they leaped into his hall. Both started speaking at once, and made no sense at all.

He held up his hands and they quietened down.

“Right, Simone, you tell me what happened!”

“Sir, there is a man in a car up at the school. He says he is looking for Simon Williamson. He has a London accent. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“Right, in the living room. Sit down and don’t say anything else.” Jacob went to the phone and dialled 999.
 

*          *          *
 
Ted Harris and his Detective Inspector were hurtling through the night on the M40 motorway. Ted’s phone rang.

“Harris.”

“When?”

“How far is the ARV?”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He shut the phone off. “Hobart is at the school. The child is safe in the Headmaster’s house and the ARV is about a minute away. Can’t you go any faster?”

“I’m doing one twenty as it is, Guv.”

“We’re looking for an S reg VW Golf.”

“Got it. Is he armed?”

“I haven’t a clue.”
 

*          *          *
 
Phil felt his anger and frustration rise; almost getting the best of him. The boy who spoke to him was a nice looking lad and Phil felt the familiar feeling of sexual arousal.

“What school does he go to now?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for months, as he left last autumn. Ian might know,” he said, turning round to see Ian and Simone gone.

The ARV had approached silently, but the blue and yellow florescent patches on the side of the car flashed in the light of a single street lamp. Phil caught the flash, immediately aware that the police knew he was here.

He opened the car door and grabbed the boy, dragging him back into the car. Placing a large and very sharp knife against the boy’s cheek, he started driving off at high speed. The other boys and a couple of girls screamed.

“One squeak and I’ll carve my fucking initials on your fucking face!” he said to a quivering Filly.

Unknowingly, he drove up the cul-de-sac to the theatre. Finding no where to go, he looked back and saw the police car, now with its blue strobe lights illuminated.

“Fuck!” he said, and pulled the terrified boy out of the car.

He dragged him through the nearest door.

It was the stage door, and he stumbled into the darkened area to the rear of the stage.

Simone and Ian followed the Headmaster out of his house, despite the instructions to stay behind. Lots of people were running towards the theatre. Two armed policemen were talking on their radio and getting their MP5 carbines out of the safe in the back of the car.

“Stay back, kids!” One of them shouted, and staff members started getting the pupils to return to their houses.

Jacob went and identified himself to one of the police officers..

“That’s fine sir, a senior officer is on his way. If you could get the kids away from here, this is a dangerous situation.”

One of the boys who had seen the abduction came up to the policeman.

“He’s got Andy Phillips, and I saw a big knife.”

Simone heard this and was appalled. The two armed officer ran forward and she heard them talking about a containment on the radio.

More police cars arrived.

Ian was with her, and they stared at the myriad of blue flashing lights.

A familiar figure came up to her. It was the Superintendent.

“Hello little lady, are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine, but he’s got one of my friends.”

Ted nodded. “Where’s your mother?”

“Staying with a friend, why?”

“Have you spoken to her recently?”

“No, not really, why?”

“It’s important. Where is she?”

“She’s with my father, sir,” said Ian.

Ted looked at the boy. “Oh?”

“He’s looking after her.”

“Good, go and call your father, and make sure Simone’s mother is all right, okay?”

“Yes sir,” said Ian and ran off.

Ted looked at the theatre. “Are there any other doors apart from this one and the main door?” he asked Jacob.

“No.”

“Yes, there is!” said Simone.

“What?”

“The basement has a loading bay. It’s set into the ground behind the building. They use it for big stuff that won’t go through the doors.”

“Show me!”

Simone ran round to the back of the theatre with several police officers, one or two had guns. She showed them the loading doors, similar to pub cellar doors for the supply of beer kegs.

The superintendent knelt down on one knee.

“It’s open. He’s out!”

The officers fanned out, two going into the basement, the others using powerful torches to sweep the woods to the rear of the school.
 

*          *          *
 
Phil was running, dragging a sobbing boy with him. He’d found the basement and managed to exit through the doors above his head, moments before the police discovered the exit. He heard the barking of dogs, and felt a weary resignation settle onto him.

He found himself in a clearing, and the boy collapsed onto the ground.

He looked at him lying there, crying and cowering in fear. Phil felt power surge through his loins as he became aroused at the sight.

He knew he was going down for kidnapping, and probably conspiracy to murder. He made a decision; he might as well be down for a sexual assault, and have a decent memory to hold onto.

He heard the sounds of searching all around him. He didn’t have much time. He undid his flies and grabbed the boy’s trousers, pulling hard.

Nothing happened, for Andy, now terrified, lashed out with his feet, causing Phil to lose his grip.

The knife fell onto the grass and the boy ran away screaming. Phil fumbled about and located the knife. Using a bit of reverse psychology, he turned towards the searchers and crept at ground level through the thick undergrowth.
 

*          *          *
 
“The boy’s been found, sir!”

“Is he alright?”

“Yes, just scared out of his wits, poor kid.”

“Hobart?”

“Not yet, sir”

“Find that bastard!”
 

*          *          *
 
The helicopter arrived overhead, using its heat sensitive equipment to attempt to locate Phil in the darkness.

The police had made all the pupils and staff leave the area to safety. All buildings were locked and staff members to supervise all the pupils until the man was caught. Andy was debriefed and so the police now knew the man had a knife. Inexplicably, it appeared that the man was considering a sexual attack on the boy, which made him even more dangerous.

The Superintendent kept Simone with him. He was standing by his car with the girl behind him, leaning against the car. He was observing the helicopter, sweeping the woodlands with the powerful Nightsun lamp. Officers were deployed all around the wood, containing it, as dogs were sent in from this end.

Simone suddenly was grabbed from behind. A knife pressed to her throat.

“Cry out, darlin’ and I’ll fuckin’ kill ya!” he hissed. Phil had doubled back and come out of the woods yards from the police cars.

Simone felt the anger rise in her. The anger she felt against her father. The anger against those faceless cowards who sought her and her mother’s deaths and the death of that little innocent half sister in New Zealand.

She turned and looked Phil in the eye.

He frowned, as he hadn’t expected this. A scream or a cry, perhaps, but not a cold hard stare from a very self-controlled young woman.

The knife was cold against her cheek. She stood, face to face with him.

The Superintendent, sensing something unusual turned and watched as Simone brought her knee up with an almighty force into Phil’s groin. She was focussed on his tonsils and drove the knee up as high as it would go, and then some!

Phil’s eyes crossed. He dropped the knife, silently collapsing forwards onto his knees, letting go of the girl as he grabbed for his shattered testicles. Simone simply stepped back, swinging her foot back to kick him again when the Superintendent took hold of her arm.

“Enough! Let us take him now. Good girl.”

Moments later, officers had handcuffed Phil, but he was in so much pain that they were considering calling an ambulance for him. Gradually, the officers returned to the vehicles and most left the school. Phil was bundled into a police car, ashen in the face and still incapable of speaking. A few officers remained to take statements from those pupils involved, like Andy and Simone.

The Superintendent sat in the Headmaster’s study as the Detective Inspector took a statement from Simone. The Head was present as an appropriate adult, as the girl was under seventeen.

“What do I tell the parents and anyone else who asks?”

“Tell them that a wanted man was traced to this location, in search of someone who he wrongly believed to be here. Officers arrived moments after he did. He attempted the abduction of two pupils, one of which acted very courageously, by affectively disabling him and allowing the police to arrest and remove him. No one at this school was injured and there is no danger of any repetition of the incident, which lasted a matter of minutes.”

Jacob smiled. “I can tell you’ve done things like this before!”

Ted nodded. “I regret that it happened. Unfortunately, our resources were spread over several counties due to the fact that this man’s brother was planning to do the same thing to a man in Sussex.”

“What exactly were they after?”

Ted looked at Simone. “I’m not totally certain, but it seems that Simone’s late father was one of two men who upset a very powerful criminal. That criminal is now awaiting trial and is seeking revenge.”

“Will he try again?”

Ted shook his head. “No. I strongly suspect that this was the final act of a desperate man. I would bet my pension that nothing more will happen. He and these men will be convicted, sentenced to many years prison, and hopefully I will be long retired by the time they get out!”

“What about Simone?”

“Simone will probably be a grandmother by then,” he said with a smile.
 
 
Chapter 28
 
 
The church was full. The sun shone, the birds were chirping and the world suddenly seemed a nice place to be. Chief Superintendent Edward Harris sat at the back of the church, feeling rather an interloper. He’d not met Howard, but recognised him because of his similarity to his son.

Ted smiled, for both father and son stood at the front of the church, awaiting the arrival of the bride. Both wore smart morning suits, both had enormous smiles on their faces and the atmosphere was one of high good humour. The organist started playing and a shadow fell across the aisle from the doorway. The congregation rose as the bridal party walked down the church towards the altar.

Ted smiled again as he saw that in breach of tradition, for in place of her father, a female gave away the bride. Vanessa looked radiant, but she was out-shone by her daughter. The bride wore a very simple long white dress, with little frill or trim. A simple garland of white flowers in her auburn hair was more expressive than any gem-laden tiara. Her bouquet was also predominantly white. Her escort was in a similar dress, but in a pale peach colour, which went so well with her unadorned auburn hair, save a single white rose pinned to the left side of her head.

The bride arrived at the rails and her husband to be stepped forward. There were smiles all around and Ted couldn’t get over the similarities between father and son, and mother and daughter.

Simone stepped back, allowing her mother to stand alone beside Howard, the groom. She exchanged a small secret smile with the best man and Ian felt his heart sing. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be standing here in a few years time, but he would be the groom and Simone the bride!

Several of the ladies in the congregation were already crying, not least one Lucy Griffiths. Having been recently married herself, now all of a few weeks ago, she could not contain her emotions. She was already expecting their first child.

The past six months had been like a dream for her, and it all started on the first night of the junior play.
 

*          *          *
 
Robert had asked her to come and live with him. Initially she had declined, but relented as the loneliness of her bed-sit life affected her deeply. He proposed to her one evening, telling her he would help financially and wasn’t really bothered when the surgery took place. He declared he loved her as a woman, as the hated genitalia changed nothing in his mind. For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to love. This gentle and confused man loved her unconditionally and as a result, they found love together.

Lucy was nervous at venturing into the school, convinced that her secret would be exposed, thereby ruining Robert’s career and any hope of a secure future together.

However, he persuaded her to come to the opening night. She compromised and asked if she could watch it from back stage. He agreed, misunderstanding her reasons, believing she wanted to be near him as he supervised proceedings.

The play was unremarkable as far as school plays went. Solidly acted with enthusiasm would be the diplomatic way the school report would cover it, with moments of dramatic genius from the leading lady, Simone Strickland and her leading man, Ian Jamieson.

However, it was in the brief intermission during a scene change when Simone pounced.

“Hi Lucy,” she said.

“Hello.”

“Look, I don’t want you to think me interfering or anything, but before I ask you a question, can I tell you a secret?”

Lucy was surprised at the young girl’s different approach, but she nodded.

“This is one of those secrets that you don’t tell anyone, even Robert, okay?”

The girl seemed very serious.

“Okay, I promise,” said Lucy, intrigued now.

“Okay. Up until a few months ago, I was a boy. My name was Simon and I was a normal male.”

Lucy was even more surprised. It must have shown, for Simone laughed.

“Oh, it’s not quite the same as your situation, because now I really am a normal girl, get the curse and could get pregnant and everything. My question is simple; would you like to be like me too?”

Lucy felt a drumming in her ears. The girl hadn’t asked her if she was transgendered or a transsexual, as she expected. No, she had no doubt about that, but simply asked her mind-blowing question.

“What?”

“I know, this must seem really odd, but let me explain. This is what happened…”

After she finished, Lucy was left gasping.

“All it needs is one phone call to the professor. I’d like to be able to help. I’ve already contacted him and he’s fine with it, what do you say?”

“How, w..wh..when?” she stammered.

Simone shrugged. “Whenever you want. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“How did you know?” Lucy managed to ask.

“I just did. If you know what you’re looking for, it’s quite easy.”

“When did you first realise?”

“The first time I saw you. I didn’t know for sure at first, but I just had a feeling. You see, I’ve seen Robert when he gets attracted to boys dressed as girls. He fancied me for a while, but I was a girl, so I don’t know what was going through his mind. You are very pretty and feminine in most areas, except your voice. As soon as I heard you, that confirmed my suspicions.

“What about the implants?”

“They’ll have to come out, unless you want enormous ones!”

Lucy was completely staggered, but Simone had to go back on stage before the t-girl could reply.

After the end of the play, as the final curtain fell on the kissing couple, Lucy was desperate to tell her she would like to.

She found Simone in the dressing room, and once on their own, she said, “My answer, it’s ‘Yes please’!”

“Good, let’s not tell Groper, I mean Robert.”

“Why not?”

“Think what a nice surprise it’ll be. I’ll sort out the date, probably in a week or so, okay?”

“A week?” she almost screamed. “That soon?”

“Oh, too soon for you?”

“No, that’s fine. I thought it’d be later, that’s all.”

“I’ll call you. You’d better give me your mobile number. It’s a real bore, as they won’t let me drive for ages yet, so Mum will come with us.”

Lucy shook her head, he mind reeling with everything Simone had told her.

“You were your mother for a while?”

“Yup, it was fantastic. I got to drive a car, I nearly went to bed with my boyfriend’s Dad. It’s just as well I didn’t as it looks my Mum’s fallen in love with him now.”

“With your boyfriend?”

“No, silly, with his father.”

So, exactly one week into the Easter Holidays, on the Thursday before Good Friday, Vanessa drove them down to Exeter to renew her acquaintance with Professor Burton and Linda. The old man was delighted to see them again. He was particularly interested in seeing Simone and Linda spoke to Lucy at some length.

A flash and a bang later, and Lucy finally found herself as the person she had always wanted to be. Not one scalpel in sight!

Just as with Vanessa and Simoné, Lucy was unconscious immediately after the ‘treatment’. The Professor had revised the device somewhat and it looked a little less like a Heath Robinson contraption. The principle remained the same and the end-result was just as spectacular.

Linda helped Lucy as she came round.

“It’s okay, welcome to the club,” Simone said, as Lucy’s hand shot down between her legs.

“I can’t believe this. My God, it’s a miracle!” Lucy said, her voice already considerably higher.

“No,” said the professor, “Just a bit of science.”

“You’ll have to lose the implants. Otherwise you will be humungous,” said Simone.

They drove a bemused Lucy back home. The poor girl alternated between crying and giggling uncontrollably.

She made an appointment with the clinic and had the implants removed, her own breasts were rapidly growing and she would have looked like a well endowed Dolly Parton. She made an excuse to Robert, saying she needed to sort some personal things out.

Robert and she enjoyed a loving relationship, but Robert was reluctant to actually indulge in anal sex with her. He said he preferred to wait until the operation, and was content to simply cuddle her.

Her voice subtly altered, becoming naturally softer, higher and better modulated along truly feminine tones. All the traces of what she’d been vanished instantly, and in a matter of days, she found herself able to lose weight attaining a figure she hadn’t dared to even dream about.

She allowed time for her scars to heal, returning to Robert’s cottage while he was away visiting an elderly aunt.

Dressing in her most seductive underwear, in a dress that she never thought she would ever be able to get into, she ordered in a Chinese take-away meal and waited for him to return.

Robert walked into the cottage, saw the candles and was surprised when Lucy simply took hold of him and led him to the table. They had a divine meal and then she started to undress him.

He started protesting, but she slipped out of her dress, allowing him to see that perhaps all was not as he thought. He made love to her that night, and both attained levels of pleasure and peace of mind that could not be described. Robert, the naíve soul that he was had no real idea as to the nature of the sudden and dramatic transformation

They were married at the end of the summer term and their single bridesmaid, Simone, cried all the way through the simple service. They promised to be back from their honeymoon in time for Simone’s mother’s wedding.

Thinking that Lucy had had the operation, he was more than a little confused when she announced that she was expecting a child. It was at that point she brought him in on the secret. No mention was made of Simone’s past, only that the Professor had succeeded in changing Lucy. Robert, realising where his butter lay, said nothing, and sat back and adored his now glowing wife.
 

*          *          *
 
The ceremony ended, with Vanessa now finding herself as Mrs Jamieson. There was little doubt in the minds of those who watched the younger couple follow out their parents that in a few short years there would be a replay and a new Mr and Mrs Jamieson would walk from the church.

The reception in the grounds of the Jamieson home was a simple but pleasant experience. Ted didn’t enjoy weddings as a rule, but found this family so engaging and refreshing that he broke his own rule and allowed himself to actually have some fun.

The family all left together on their honeymoon in Dorset, and the party went of long into the night. Ted went home feeling that closure was a wonderful thing.
 
 
Epilogue
 
 
“The Court will rise!”

Vanessa and Simone sat at the back of court four at the Central Criminal Court, the Old Bailey, in the City of London. The case had lasted nearly five weeks, costing the British Taxpayer millions of pounds.

They stood as the judge, wearing his robes and long white wig, returned to his seat. The jury had returned, having spent three days in a local hotel deliberating the case.

Everyone sat down and the usher collected an envelope from the chairman of the jury. Passing the envelope to the judge, he told Eddie McDonagh to stand.

“Edward McDonagh, you are found guilty on all charges by a unanimous verdict. Before I pass sentence, I wish to discharge the jury and thank them for undertaking a difficult and unpleasant case.

“It has not been easy, as I am aware of the pressures brought to bear by the defendant in an attempt to pervert this case. You may leave, assured that you have done your duty.”

They’d convicted Eddie on all counts, despite him pleading not guilty. The judge sentenced him to three life sentences with a recommendation to remain in custody for at least twenty-five years. The Hobart brothers, all three of them were sentenced to life, and many minions were sentenced to varying terms from a year to ten years. Incidentally, Philip Hobart had to go to hospital where his had his crushed testicles treated. He was, however, now sterile. His new solicitor dissuaded him from suing the girl responsible.

In New Zealand, Susannah Clarke had a set of twins, Justin and Katy, while Richard Clarke joined the Chamber of commerce, the local Presbyterian Church and Rotary club. Susannah’s parents sold up in the United Kingdom and moved out to New Zealand to be close to their grandchildren.

Robert Wiseman was involved in a car accident three days after his release and died of his injuries. There were no suspicious circumstances.

As for Simone.

I have a feeling she’ll be back, don’t you?

---

 
FIN?