Gruesome Tuesday by Tanya Allan   Fifteen-year old Sophie wants to go to a Justin Timberlake concert, but her father, Rob, doesn’t want to let her go. Having lost his wife to cancer, he may be over-protective. They have an argument, in which she accuses him of not understanding what it is like to be young. He remembers his youth well, and telling her that she has it easy compared to him. A freaky electric shock transports her into her father’s fifteen-year old body in a boys’ boarding school in the 1970s, and he ends up as her in the present. Things then get very interesting indeed!

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

---

Originally written in 2004, revised in 2009.
 
The Legal Stuff: Gruesome Tuesday  ©2004, 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. Rob's Story
 
 
“Dad! That is just sooooooooo unfair,” Sophie whined at me.

“Whoever said life was fair?” I asked, grinning slightly at her attempts to manipulate me.

“But Caroline and Jenny are going.”

“Caroline and Jenny are both sixteen, so if their parents are happy with that, then that’s their decision. You’re fifteen, and I’m not letting you go. I’m sorry, but that’s final.”

“But Dad?”

“Sophie, enough,” I said sternly, but in truth I found it so hard to be tough. So many parents I knew fought with their children over trivial matters such as hair and clothes, so when the really important things came up, the fight was already lost.

“Dad, you don’t understand.”

“Sophie. Believe me, I do, but I’ve made my decision. Maybe next year.”

“I hate you. If Mum was alive, she’d understand,” she screamed, running upstairs in tears.

She was still wearing her school uniform of white blouse, grey skirt and tights. She is a tall girl, but then I’m over six feet and her mother had been nearly 5’8”. She always looks older than her fifteen years, already developing a trim figure. She is very pretty, with her long blonde hair indeed her crowning glory. It had a natural wave to it that many women spent a fortune trying to create artificially.

I sighed and looked at Steven, who was finishing his tea. He grinned at me, as ten-year old boys do when they see their bossy elder sisters being given a hard time.

“Have you football practice tonight?” I asked him.

“Yeah, Paul’s Dad is picking me up at six.”

“You have three minutes, so get a move on,” I said, so he rushed his food. Sure enough, Mike Newman, Paul’s father, pulled up in his Volvo just moments later.

Steve grabbed his kit and ran out of the door.

“See ya, Dad.”

“Bye,” I said to a closing door.

I cleared the plates up, loading them into the dishwasher. Sophie hadn’t eaten her food yet, so I went to the bottom of the stairs and shouted up for her to come and eat.

“I’m not hungry,” she screamed.

“Okay. In one minute the dog gets yours,” I said.

At this, Buster, the black Labrador, understood that he was about to win today’s dog lottery and sat salivating at my feet. It never ceased to amaze me how a dog who managed to look so sound asleep one minute, could be wide awake and drooling whenever the vaguest hint of food should be in the offing.

Fifty-nine seconds later, a belligerent and bolshie fifteen year old Goth came out of her room and munched her food as noisily and miserably as possible. She had changed into a black mini skirt and black tee shirt to match the dreadful heavy black makeup. I ignored her behaviour and her outrageous makeup, as that always made her even madder at me.

Sophie was actually a sweet and lovely girl, but when we talked about concerts and boy bands, we suffered from a communication problem. Karen, my wife and the kid’s mother, had died four years ago after finally losing an eighteen-month battle with cancer. It was at times like this I really missed her.

The last four years had been a nightmare for me, but I was gradually feeling that I was coming out of a very dark place. Steven had been six, and while it had affected him, it hadn’t been as tough on him as much as Sophie. She had been eleven when Karen died, so had been just turning into a young woman. It was a time when mums are essential for girls, and Karen wasn’t there for her. So she was lumbered with her Dad, so I had to get to grips with teenage girl problems.

It was a real education for me, and I was actually quite proud of myself. I had read lots of books on the subjects, and I found women’s magazines very helpful, particularly the problems pages.

Actually, Sophie had been wonderful. Together we had struggled through. Everyone wondered why I hadn’t tried to find another partner, but they didn’t really understand the situation.

I had to work, bring up two children and keep a home. It was all I could do to get through each day without having a breakdown. I had no time or inclination to even try to look for another partner.

I quit my job as a journalist on a local paper and had started working from home. I wrote articles for all kinds of publications, and even wrote short stories for all kinds of different magazines under a host of pen-names. My romantic stories in various women’s magazines under the name of Rebecca Robbins were very popular, and I was making a very nice living from them. I even had two romantic novels published by Mills & Boon under the same name, and was working on a couple more.

I even wrote a couple of rather pornographic books as Samantha Van Ryebuck, which I invented in order to prevent Rebecca from getting a tarnished image. My bank manager and accountant found it hilarious, as cheques came in for seven or eight different names, and they were all me. Sorting out my tax return was always a bloody headache.

Sophie was going through a slightly rebellious stage, and I annoyed her by occasionally putting my foot down. Most of the time I was very liberal in what I allowed her to do. Having no mother meant she had to grow up faster, so as a result I trusted her a lot more than most fifteen year olds. However, I didn’t trust the boys, as I had been one once, so knew what went through their minds, and trousers!

I had a policy of not fighting over the little things, that way she took me seriously when I did take issue with something important.

This particular difference of opinion was over a Justin Timberlake concert at the NEC in Birmingham in early December. There was a group of girls from the year above her at school, and they had all got tickets. With a group of boys, they had booked a minibus and were all set.

Due to a family commitment, one girl dropped out, so she offered her ticket to Sophie. I was not letting her go, not because I didn’t trust her, but because I didn’t trust the boys on the trip. They were all sixteen or seventeen and some had dubious reputations, particularly over the matter of drugs and alcohol. I offered to take her, drop her off and then collect her afterwards. She had declined, so we reached the current stalemate.

We lived just outside Chorleywood, a small town in Hertfordshire, just to the north of London. We were just in Buckinghamshire, so Sophie could go to the Dr Challoner’s Girls’ Grammar school at Amersham.

I had wanted to move after Karen’s death, but Sophie and Steve had friends around them, so it would have been unfair to move just because I could not cope with the memories, particularly as Sophie was doing so well in her school. I had gritted my teeth and stuck it out. Actually, I often found myself talking to Karen when I was alone in the house, as I felt she was close to me. I was quite grateful that we were still here, so would now be reluctant to move for a while.

I went into the sitting room and sat and watched the TV news. They were still looking for Saddam Hussain, while suicide bombers in Iraq had killed yet more allied soldiers.

I heard Sophie come in. She sat on the floor at my feet. She put her arms on my knees and looked at me through dark mascara.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” she said.

I reached out with my hand and stroked her blonde hair.

“So am I sweetie.”

“I do want to go.”

“I know. And I will take you. I just don’t feel that that crowd are responsible enough.”

“You have to let go sometime, Daddy,” she said.

I looked at her. She was as manipulative as her mother used to be, and she knew exactly how to wear me down.

“Sophie, I give you more responsibility and rope than most of your friends, and I really appreciate how much you do to help me. But I still have to look out for you for just a little while longer. On some matters you just have to accept and trust that I do know best.”

“I’m not a complete idiot, Daddy.”

“I know, I never suggested that you were. In fact you’re a very bright girl, and I’m so proud of you.”

“I do know how to behave.”

“I know you do.”

“And I trust my friends.”

“As do I. But I’m cautious about boys whom I don’t know. And a couple of the lads on this particular trip, I’ve heard bad things about.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Sophie. Please believe me when I tell you that it is not you I don’t trust. The world is a nasty place, and things can happen even when you are very careful. Maybe it’s me, sweetie. I lost your mother, and I couldn’t bear anything to happen to you.”

“I know, Dad, but I so want to go.”

“I’ll take you, and even pick you up afterwards.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It’s the best offer on the table.”

She looked at me and her big blue eyes broke my heart, as she was so like her mother, it cracked me up. Admittedly, Karen never used to put several inches of black mascara around hers.

She saw that she wasn’t going to wear me down on this one that quickly, so she told me she would think about it. The concert was several weeks away, and the ticket was on offer for a week, so she knew she had a week to work on me.

She went upstairs, but when she came down, she had removed most of the makeup. We both knew that her tactic no longer worked, so I was hopeful that she would cease trying.

She helped me clear up the pots and pans, and came and sat with me, as I wrote my book.

“Which is this one?”

“A Rebecca Robbins love story, called, ‘Rekindled Romance!’”

She giggled. “I don’t understand how you can sell this rubbish, you don’t see the world as a woman at all.”

“It’s not that hard. One just has to try to imagine how it feels, and go with the story. Your mother and I were married for fifteen years, and this year would be our twentieth anniversary. I just try to see things as she would have done.”

“Can’t you try to see things as I do?” she asked, with a sly smile.

“Maybe next book.”

“I bet you couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too old.”

“I’m only forty.”

“Life is really tough as a teenager today.”

“Oh, and it wasn’t when I was your age?”

“Boys have it easy. They’re allowed to do anything they want.”

“Not true. My dad was very strict, and I certainly was never allowed to do some of the things I let you do. Besides I was sent away to boarding school, and that was pretty tough.”

“You’re just saying that, I think that would be so cool. I mean all those boys!”

“Sophie, you have an answer to everything. If you were just one of three hundred boys you wouldn’t find it so cool. As a girl, yes, but not just as one of the lads. It’s something you’re just going to have to trust me on, we can’t turn the clock back, and we can’t swap places. This isn’t Hollywood, so things like Freaky Friday are just good movie plots.”

“That’d be cool though, wouldn’t it?”

“What would?”

“Us swapping places. You’d have to be me, and I could be you when you were a teenager.”

“I don’t think you’d want to be me. And I certainly would hate to have to go through school again, even if it might be quite interesting as a girl. No, we’ve just got to make the best of who we are and what we’ve got in the here and now.”

“Imagine the kick you’d get being a girl, you’d be able to write your books from real life then,”

“Sophie, don’t be silly. I do all right.”

“Dad, your stories are so lame. I think the only people who read these are closet transvestites and gays.”

“Sophie! That’s ridiculous; lots of women read my books.”

“Yeah, then they’re all so old that they can’t remember what sex was.”

“Sophie!”

Sophie giggled and I laughed. The air cleared and we were friends again.

“It wouldn’t work,” I said.

“What wouldn’t?”

“Well, if you went back to be me, and I became you, who’d be me here and now?”

She frowned. “I dunno, it was just an idea.”

“Hmm, it might make a good book.”

“It’s been done, Daddy.”

“Mothers and daughters, or fathers and sons, but never fathers and daughters. It’s a bit gender/benderish for good taste.”

“I suppose, but it would make a cool film.”

“Maybe, but I should not like to try, thank you very much.”

“How old were you when you had your first kiss?”

“God, I can’t remember, fourteen or fifteen I think,” I said.

“What was her name?”

“Now you have me. It was a long time ago sweetie.”

“Oh come on, your first kiss, I bet you can remember. I would.”

“Oh yes and what is his name?”

“Ah, that’s in the future,” she said, surprising me.

“Emma. Emma Harrison. She was the daughter of some old friends of my parents, and we got together one summer, but it didn’t last that long.”

“That’s not long, what happened?”

“They lived a long way away, and to be honest, I was always terrified of her as she was a little forward. The last I heard she was on her third husband.”

“When did you first have sex?” she asked, and I laughed.

“Sophie, that isn’t a polite question.”

“If you went to boarding school, were there lots of gays there?”

“Not really, none, or none that I was aware of. I suppose there were a few who were slightly confused, but that’s only to be expected. There was certainly none that were openly obvious.”

“So, if there were no girls, what did you do?”

“We met girls in the holidays.”

“Yes, but what about in between?”

“Sophie, enough!”

She giggled and smiled at me.

“Everyone wanks, Daddy, so don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” I lied.

“Yes you are, I can tell.”

I smiled. “You are a minx.”

“So, were you a virgin when you met Mum?”

I smiled as memories came flooding back.

“No Sophie, I wasn’t, and neither was your mother.”

“Cool! When did you first do it?”

I looked at her, my little girl, who was no longer a little girl, and was turning into a very pretty young woman. She didn’t have a mother to talk to about periods and boys, so she had me.

“I was seventeen and on holiday in Spain. She was sixteen and came from Essex.”

“Oh, not an Essex girl! Did she have white stilettos?”

“I can’t remember, but she had a white bikini, and it all started when she threw cold water at me by the pool, so I stole her bikini top.”

“So she wanted you to, that’s why she threw the water at you.”

“Probably.”

“What was she like?”

“She was slim and pretty and had dark hair. Her name was Fay. Her father ran a furniture restoration business in somewhere like Woodford or Chingford. She was younger than me, but very worldly. We were in the same hotel for the same two weeks, and it happened on the second last night.”

“Was it good?”

“If I recall it was pretty dire, as I was so nervous and had drunk too much, so I can’t really remember. But we tried again the next night, and that was pretty good.”

“Did you love her?”

“I thought so at the time. But, well, we promised to keep in touch, but never really did. We wrote a couple of times a year, but never met up again. She married a local mechanic and had lots of babies before she was twenty.”

“Did you use a condom?”

“Yes, she actually had them with her, as if she planned to find someone all along. I was quite taken aback by that.”

“Was she the only one, apart from Mum?”

“No, there was another girl at university. We even talked about getting married, but it never worked out. We lived together for a while. I loved her, but we were too different.”

“I want my first time to be with the man I marry. It’s so special, that I don’t want to make a mistake and just have sex because I can.”

I looked at her. My precious little girl, for whom I would gladly give my life if needs be. So young, so pretty and yet so wise, I prayed she retained all three.

“That’s good to hear, but I won’t change my mind,” I said, and she laughed.

“Was I that obvious?” she asked with a pout.

“You are more like your mother than is good for you.”

“Do you still miss her?” she asked.

“As much as ever. And I know you do.”

She nodded. “Why did she have to die?”

I shook my head. We had both asked that question so often, but knew that we would never know the answer.

“I’m so sorry, I am trying my best, sweetheart.”

“You do great, Daddy. I have the best Dad in the world, but I’d still like to have Mummy back.”

“So would I, Sophie. So would I.”
 

*          *          *
 
Many fathers have close relationships with their children, but I was blessed. Sophie and I were more than close, but even so, we still fought, and somehow through the fights we grew closer. Steven and I weren’t quite so close, but still we had a good relationship. He was a good kid, and I was proud of him too.

He came in from soccer practice at about eight, dumping his dirty gear on the kitchen floor and went up for a bath. Sophie was doing her homework, so I put his muddy kit into the washing machine, and switched it on. Nothing happened.

I cursed.

This bloody machine had been acting up for a few weeks, and I was putting off repairing or replacing it. I peered into the drum, hitting it a couple of times, but still nothing happened.

I looked down the back and wiggled the wire; still nothing. Sophie came in.

“What’s wrong Dad?”

“This bloody machine. It’s buggered!”

“It’s probably the cable. I think it is a bit loose. Last time I wiggled it and it worked.”

“I tried that.”

“Try down where the wire goes into the back,” she said, peering down the back next to me. She pointed to the wire and the box into which it disappeared.

I prodded into the electrical input box, and there was an almighty flash. I was thrown back against the opposite wall. I passed out.
 
 
Chapter 2. Sophie’s Story
 
 
I heard Daddy swearing at the washing machine, again. Honestly, he was so inept when it came to that machine. Mum had always been the one to do the washing, but after she died, he had to learn, and it was his one weakness, as he clearly had a problem with it. I told him what needed doing to make it work, so had to show him which wire to wiggle.

We were both leaning over the back and I was touching him when he touched the wire. There was a flash and a jolt. I felt myself being thrown backwards, but must have passed out.

When I came to, I remember frowning, as everything was all wrong.

Somehow, I had been thrown outside, because instead of looking at the ceiling at home, I was looking straight up into the blue sky, as a small cloud drifted across my line of sight. Instead of the lino floor, I felt grass under my back, and it was damp. A face swam into focus. It was a boy, and he was wearing a blue and white striped rugby shirt, blue shorts, blue socks and rugby boots, as well as a worried expression.

I frowned, as I’d never seen him before in my life, and yet he seemed to know me

“Are you okay, Millsey?” he asked.

I mean, who the hell calls me Millsey? I knew I was Sophie Mills, but this was plain silly.

“Fine, but who are you?” I asked. My voice sounded very funny, and I tried to sit up.

The boy looked to someone to my left. “He’s come round again, sir. But I think he has amnesia, as he can’t remember who I am,” he shouted.

He? Who? What?

Now I was seriously concerned.

I looked to my feet and saw I was wearing rugby boots as well. In fact, I was wearing similar kit as the other boy. I then noticed that my breasts had gone. I experienced that cold sweaty feeling that one gets when panic starts to set in. As I started to shake, several other boys ran up to us, and there was an older man, also in a rugby shirt, but a red one. He had a whistle on a lanyard around his neck.

I put my shaking hand to my head, which hurt, only to discover that someone had cut off my lovely long blonde hair. It had taken me ages to get it how I liked it. I felt tears spring to my eyes.

“Alright, give the boy some room. How are you Rob? That was one hell of a tackle. I think he knocked you out for a few seconds,” the man said.

Boy?

Rob?

That was my Dad’s name.

I looked around, and saw the school buildings in the distance. The large dome and white pillars of Compton College were very distinctive.

Dad had brought me to see his old school last year, so I recognised it immediately. Only there weren’t the new buildings that I recalled seeing during my visit.

“Rob. Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?”

I turned to face him; the tears blurred my vision slightly, but not to make me that blind. He held up three fingers.

“Three,” I said.

“Fine. What day is it?”

“Tuesday?” I guessed.

“Month?”

I looked at the trees, they were just beginning to change, and it had been September when we fiddled with the washing machine.

“September?”

“Splendid. What year?”

“2003?”

He looked at me, frowning.

“What’s my name?”

I shrugged, but something somewhere was struggling to tell me. After all, I should know, shouldn’t I? He knew me.

“What is his name?” he said, pointing to the first boy I had seen.

I looked at him, and the boy grinned back at me, as if willing me to remember him. I couldn’t.

I shook my head.

“I haven’t got a clue,” I said, beginning to feel the panic rising.

I thought about it, so it dawned on me what must have happened, I was in Dad’s fifteen year old body.

I looked at everyone staring at me.

I was a boy.

That meant………..

I looked at my shorts.

Shit.

Mercifully, I passed out again.
 

*          *          *
 
I came to in a bed in what could only be the sanatorium. There were eight other beds in this dormitory. None of the others was occupied. A middle-aged woman in an out-dated, white nurse’s uniform was fiddling about the bed, tucking me in. She saw me open my eyes.

“Oh, good you’re back with us. You gave us quite a scare, so the doctor is coming to see you.”

“Oh,” I said. My hands were under the covers, and I felt something between my legs.

I was suddenly completely awake.

My hand recoiled as if burned.

“I’m a boy,” I said, rather inanely and unnecessarily.

“Yes, and you have been concussed,” she said, with a patient smile.

There was a calendar on the wall, it said 1978.

It was twenty-five years ago.

I was in Dad’s body and I was at his school.

Where the hell was Dad?

Oh my God!

It didn’t near thinking about.

I remembered the flash and being knocked out. So, if I was here, then Dad was either in his forty year-old body, or in my fifteen year old body. If he was in mine, what happened to him? If he was himself, what had happened to mine?

Shit!

This was awesome.

It was horrible.

The doctor came in. Or at least I assumed he was a doctor. He was quite a friendly man and he checked me over, asking me lots of questions. I was as honest as I thought I could be. But if I claimed to be the fifteen-year-old daughter of the boy whose body I now inhabited, I think he would have sent for the men in white coats.

“Well, Robert, you’ve taken quite a knock. You were concussed, so I think we’ll keep you in here over night, just in case of compression. You have partial amnesia, which is not that uncommon. Don’t worry, over the next day or so, all your memories should return, but it can be distressing for a while.

“If you just rest, then things will happen quicker. I don’t want you playing rugger for a while.”

He left, and Matron asked me if I wanted a cup of tea.

“Yes please. No sugar,” I said automatically and she smiled.

“You see, you remembered that.”

Yeah, I thought, I never took sugar, but Dad had one sugar in tea and never drank coffee.

Mr Green, the games master, came in.

I remembered his name.

How did I know that?

No one had told me.

I must be getting access to Dad’s memory.

Thank God, this might not be so terrifying after all.

“How are you feeling, Rob?”

“Better now, thanks, sir.”

“Remember my name yet?”

“Yes sir, it’s Mr Green.”

He smiled. “That was some tackle.”

“Thanks.”

“The doctor tells me that you are off games for a week or so. Well, if you can tackle like that, then I want you in the colts for next Saturday’s match against Harrow.”

“Oh. Thanks,” I said, not knowing if that was a good idea.

“Good, then take it easy, and I hope you get back to normal soon.”

“So do I,” I said, meaning a very different normal.

He left me alone.

I explored between my legs, and couldn’t help feeling guilty. Dad would hate to know what I was thinking, and it was all so silly that I started to giggle.

The very thought that the first willy I ever touched was my dad’s but also mine, struck me as being hilarious.

“You sound happier,” said Matron, bringing in my tea.

“I’m okay.”

“Good. Well, I will have some food brought over for you later. But try to rest. Mr Green tells me that some of your memory is coming back. So that sounds encouraging.”

I nodded, but my mind was in a whirl.
 

*          *          *
 
I must have dropped off, because I woke up with two boys standing at the end of my bed looking worried.

“Hi Mike, Sean,” I said, and came instantly awake.

I had known their names. Mike was the boy I had first seen on the pitch, and Sean was a big lad, rather hunky and good looking.

‘Sophie. Behave.’ I told myself. ‘I must be Rob, I must be Rob.’

Mike grinned. “I thought you were kidding when you didn’t know my name.”

I shook my head.

“No, it comes back in bits. It’s really weird,” I said.

“We’ve brought your clothes over. And I came to say sorry for knocking you out,” said Sean.

I frowned.

“You did one hell of a tackle on me. I never even saw you coming. My knee must have hit your head, because it has swollen up like a balloon. Look,” he said, dropping his trousers and showing me his knee.

I couldn’t believe this. Here I was amongst all these really great looking boys, and the hunky one was dropping his trousers in front of me, and I couldn’t really appreciate it because I was a boy myself.

Life just wasn’t fair.

I heard Dad’s voice in my head, “Who ever said that life was fair?”

At that moment, Matron walked in and I giggled, as Sean went bright red as his trousers were at his ankles.

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

“Tell me, Mr Simmonds, is this a new revolutionary cure for concussion, which I must have missed in last month’s Lancet, or are you just being a fool as usual?”

He pulled his trousers up, stammering an apology.

“I’m sorry I missed that,” she said.

“I was showing Rob what his head did to my knee.”

“Well, one can be thankful that he didn’t collide with your testicles. Now clear off, the pair of you. Robert needs to rest.”

“See you, Rob. Good to see you’re okay,” Mike said as they left. I just had a picture of Sean’s smile.

‘Daddy. I’ve had enough, I give in, you did know best,’ I said silently, but there was no response.

I couldn’t stay like this forever.

What the hell could I do?

I really started to worry, and I almost started to cry.

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” said Matron, as she came in again.

I frowned, not understanding.

“Not being able to remember things. We had a similar case a few years back. It took him three weeks to remember his own name. But, in the end it all came back, except the day the accident happened. So you’re not as bad as that,” she told me.

“What happened?”

“He hit his head on the goal post. He was out cold for twenty minutes. He was taken to hospital, but you hardly were out at all. And you’re already getting your memory back, so don’t worry, I‘m sure you’ll be fine.”

I was given some supper, and managed to doze off and on all night. I kept waking up, checking, and feeling the strange appendages between my legs. It was so unreal.
 

*          *          *
 
I woke up dying for a pee, but much to my consternation, I found that my cock was hard. I stared at it in amazement, as it was like an alien attached to my body. I didn’t know what to do with it. I pushed it and flicked it and it just stayed all stiff and pointy.

I giggled, as it was so ridiculous. I went to the loo, managing to contort myself so it was pointing the right way. I managed to pee, and it immediately went down. I shook my head, this was so weird. Being a girl was so much easier.

No wonder the two boys in our house kept peeing on the floor, if they had stiffies every morning.

I was back in bed when Matron came in. She took my temperature and checked my eyes.

“Well, you seem fine. How do you feel?”

“All right, I think,” I said, uncertainly. I could hardly tell anyone the truth, could I?

“Well, have some breakfast, and you can get up about ten. Then I’ll let you join your class after morning break. If you feel unwell, just come back. There is no point being silly.”

I got dressed, and it was so strange wearing boy’s underpants. I started to giggle when I discovered the little hole in the front for the willy to use. It was also so strange having a flat chest again. My breasts had been with me for nearly five years now, so I had forgotten what it was like not having them.

I dressed, and had some trouble with the shirt buttons, they did up the other way. I looked in the mirror, and saw what Dad looked like when he was fifteen. He was okay, not very big, so he must have grown later, as he was over six foot ever since I could remember. He had a nice smile, and I remembered that. Only since Mum died, he hadn’t smiled that much.

I brushed his hair.

My hair!

What a crappy haircut, really geeky and boring. I suppose that is how things were in those days. It was quite long, over his collar and ears. It didn’t suit him, or me.

I wet the brush and slicked it straight back over the top, not having a parting. It looked better immediately.

It was Wednesday, if my transposition was accurate. Matron let me go on schedule. I had a moment just outside the sanatorium just trying to work out where the hell I was supposed to go. It was all very strange, so I tried to dredge up some of Dad’s memories. Something filtered through, so I followed my instincts. It was really weird, as the place was both familiar and completely strange at the same time. I found myself in a dormitory at about five past ten. It worked out that it must be his. I wondered how much time I had to get sorted. I instinctively knew that break lasted until half past, so I found Dad’s bed, or rather my bed and cupboard.
 

*          *          *
 
This was so weird, as I was having real difficulties here. I looked around just to see that this wasn’t some form of cosmic joke. I know I had said it would have been fun, but I was wrong. Okay?

I found the study he shared with two others, and I knew then that Sean and Mike were the ones with whom he shared.

Now the ones with whom I shared!

His memories were opening up to me, it was as if I needed a memory, it appeared and I didn’t have to concentrate to find it.

I looked at his timetable and even managed to find his books. I then set off in what I hoped was the right direction. Every now and again, I saw my reflection in a mirror, so the horror of my situation was reinforced. A pale and horrified boy stared back at me. The only thing that was slightly familiar was the eyes. They were my colour and the only common feature that I could latch onto.

We had French and then English before lunch. I reached the French master’s room just before he arrived. I walked in, to be met by several friendly faces.

“Robbie, over here,” Mike shouted.

I then remembered where I had seen Mike before. He was Uncle Mike, my Dad’s old friend and best man at their wedding. He was living in Australia in 2003, but I had met him a couple of Christmases ago when he and his family came to stay. He had a son called Simon who was a couple of years younger than I was.

I sat down.

“Did you do the reading?” he asked.

“What reading?” I asked.

“Old Carter will be really pissed off if you haven’t. You forgot last week as well.”

Dad hated French, as he never understood why the hell we needed to learn it. He was supportive of me though, and I actually loved it. I was hoping to do French A level eventually.

Before anyone could say anymore, the master walked in and silence was instant and absolute.

He was a tall languid man, with very stern eyes and a hook-nose. It didn’t surprise me when he spoke with a very nasal voice.

“Right. I suppose it is too much to ask that you have done all your reading since we last met?”

He looked straight at me.

“Mills. I understand that you had a nasty injury on the rugger pitch yesterday. Shall we see whether the knock on your head has improved your gift of the French language?” he said very sarcastically.

This got him a few laughs from the class.

“Why don’t you read me the passage in French, and then translate it?” he asked.

I picked up the book.

“What page sir?”

“God, boy! You are the limit. Page 34. As you should damn well know.”

I turned to the page, and started to read in French. It was a simple passage, and I read it quite rapidly. I then reached the end, translated it and sat down.

Mr Carter was staring at me and then I realised that so was everyone else.

“What?” I asked, perplexed.

“Mr Mills, forgive me for being a little unbelieving, but how did you manage to suddenly find such a perfect accent and fluent gift of the language that you have butchered in every period over the last couple of years?”

I shrugged. My God, Dad had been hopeless.

“Right, then perhaps you can prove to me that that wasn’t a fluke. So please tell me, in French, exactly what happened to you yesterday to cause such a miracle,” he asked, and leaned back against his table and folded his arms, as if he dared me to show everyone how crap I really was.!

Some of the class started to giggle, and he just looked them into silence.

“Absolument, Monsieur. Je jouais au rugby, et un opposant est couru pour gagner notre ligne. Je jouais arriá¨re et j’ai essayé le plaquer. Ensuite, son genou m’a frappé la táªte et je suis rendu inconscient pour quelques instants. J’ai perdu quelques mémoires, mais autrement, il me semble que tout va bien.” I said.

(Certainly Sir. I was playing rugby, and one of the opposition made a run for our line. I was positioned as full back and I tackled him. His knee hit my head, and I was rendered unconscious for a moment. I lost a bit of memory, but otherwise I seem to be fine.)

Mr Carter stared at me, stunned into silence.

There were a few nervous titters and Mike said, “Fucking hell, Rob. Are you okay?”

“Mr Gregory, if you dare use such language in my class again, I will have you removed by the ears. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir, sorry sir.”

“But, I must agree with his sentiments. Mr Mills, can you explain how you have been transformed from an imbecile to a genius over night?”

“No sir.”

“Describe to me, in French please, everything that happened to you after the incident!”

“Eh bien, je suis revenu á  moi, et Mike a dit M Green que j’avais repris connaissance. J’ai vu l’école, et je rappelais qui je suis, et oá¹ j’étais, mais je ne pourrais pas associer des noms aux visages. Encore une fois j’e me suis évanoui, et quand je me suis réveillé je restais sur mon lit."

(Well, I came to, and Mike told Mr Green that I had regained consciousness. I saw the school, and remembered who I was and where I was, but couldn't put names to faces. I passed out again, and woke up in bed.)

“Fine. One must obviously offer a silent prayer of thanks, for without a doubt, a miracle has happened. Simmonds, the next passage please, and perhaps it is infectious,” he said.

It wasn’t and poor Sean struggled.

“Mills, can you help him?”

I stood up, read the passage fluently and then translated it. I sat down and Sean looked daggers at me.

“I am astounded, utterly astounded. What can I say?” Mr Carter said, and then went on to pick on another poor unfortunate.

He tortured most of the class, while leaving me alone. The bell rang, so the class ended in some relief.

“Mills,” Mr Carter called out.

“Sir?”

“I don’t know what has happened, but please, don’t lose your gift.”

“I’ll try not to sir.”

“Good boy.”

I left and found Sean and Mike waiting for me.

“What the hell happened to you? You’re normally completely spastic at French,” Sean asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe the bang on the head.”

“Bollocks,” said Mike.

“Okay, you explain it!” I said, and he couldn’t.

We walked into the English class, another of my (Sophie’s) favourite lessons. Dad should have been good at this as he did end up a journalist and a terrible novelist.

Mrs Rennie was a nice lady, but she had little control. We were to put on the junior play at Christmas, so she was trying to cast us in the various roles. Needless to say, there were no volunteers to play the female roles, and she did not have the necessary force of personality to make anyone do it.

The play was a modern farce, and it involved a vicar’s family and the local lord of the manor. The son of the lord fell for the vicar’s daughter, and there was a stupid burglar, a detective, an escaped loonie, a woman who was looking for her ferret, and the ever-present butler. It all got silly, but was supposed to be clever and funny.

There were five female roles and seven male roles. She changed the woman looking for her ferret to being a male looking for his Bengal tiger, which left four girls parts. The two mothers, the daughter and her friend.

I decided that I would just keep a low profile and volunteer to paint the sets or something. But it wasn’t to be.

“Mills, how would you like to be Sophie?” Mrs Rennie asked when I wasn’t concentrating.

“I wish,” I said, before it registered that someone else had said those words.

“Good, then you will be Sophie.”

“No, I never…” the rest of the sentence was drowned out by laughter and kissing noises.

“Who is Sophie?” I asked Sean, who played the son of the lord.

“You’re my girlfriend,” he said, grinning lewdly.

“Bugger!” I said, and he burst out laughing.

“Give us a kiss,” he said, pursing his lips.

“Piss off Sean, it isn’t funny,” I said. It wasn’t funny, as I was confused enough, without being a girl trapped in my dad’s fifteen year-old body, and having to pretend to be a girl!

Oh God! Just let me pass out and go back to being me. Please?

My only consolation was that whatever time I was having, Dad was probably having an even worse time.
 
 
Chapter 3. Rob’s Story
 
 
As soon as the flash happened, I knew that I’d been electrocuted, but my only concern was for Sophie.

The force of the shock flung me back against the far wall, with my hand landing in the dog’s water bowl. I was stunned for a moment, but then I sat up, I looked round for Sophie, but couldn’t see her. However, some strange man was lying on his side next to me.

I reached out a hand, but then I panicked, believing that I had severely injured my hand. Blood was on all the fingers, so I thought I must have severed the fingertips or something, but there was no pain, so I examined both my hands closely. The panic turned to horror, for my fingernails were all painted with nail varnish.

“Sophie!” I yelled, but it was Sophie’s voice.

I turned the man over and looked into my own unconscious face.

“Fuck,” I said, out loud, and once again Sophie’s voice sounded strange from the inside.

Somehow, it all started to go in slow motion. It occurred to me that if I was looking at Rob, then I must now be in Sophie’s body. Where was Sophie?

I looked at my unconscious male form, so my predicament seemed very secondary compared to getting medical help for me (Rob).

I checked my (Rob’s) breathing and heart. He had a pulse and was breathing, so I rolled him into the recovery position, grabbing the phone on the wall.

I dialled 999.

“Emergency, which service do you require?”

“Ambulance please.”

“One moment.”

I then heard as she connected me to the ambulance control and told them my telephone number.

“Ambulance, can I have your name please?”

“It’s Ro.., no Sophie Mills. It is my Dad, he’s been electrocuted.”

“Address please?”

I told her.

“Is the casualty breathing?”

“He is and he has a pulse. But he is unconscious, so I’ve placed him in the recovery position.”

“Good girl. When did this happen?”

“A few moments ago.”

“How old are you Sophie?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fine, then stay with him. It the electrical appliance safe, or is the source still dangerous?”

“It’s the washing machine. I’ll switch it off.”

“Don’t touch the metal casing, just unplug it.”

I did so.

“Okay, Sophie, the ambulance is on it way, so just stay and talk to me. How old is your Dad?”

“Forty.”

“Give me his full name, please.”

“Robert Andrew Stewart Mills.”

“Do you know his birthday?”

“21^st February 1963.”

“Good girl, now, just check he is still breathing for me.”

I did, and he was.

“He is.”

“Fine, now we know his heart is fine if he is still breathing, so that is the most important thing to keep an eye on. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I was touching him when it happened, so I was thrown back too.”

“Okay, are you burned?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Is your father?”

I checked and could not find anything.

“I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell.”

“That’s okay. Now is he a fit man, or does he have any conditions we need to know about?”

“He’s fine.”

“Okay, now where’s your mum?”

“She died four years ago.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, has your Dad a new partner?”

“No, there is just him, me and Simon, who’s still upstairs.”

“How old is Simon?”

“He’s ten, he’s my brother.”

“All right, thanks. Now the ambulance is not far away now. Can you hear it?”

I listened, and just caught the sirens in the distance.

“Stay with me, right up until they arrive, and then let me speak to one of the paramedics, okay Sophie?”

“Yeah.”

A few moments later, the two green-clothed paramedics came in. One checked me (Rob) out, while the other spoke to the controller on the phone.

“Is there anyone who can come over and look after you two?” this one asked me.

“I’m coming with you. I can’t leave him.”

“Okay, but what about your brother?”

Simon appeared, pale and frightened by the door, as the blue lights and noise had distracted him. He stared at my body on the floor.

“Sophie?”

I hugged him. “It’s okay; he’s going to be fine. He was electrocuted by the washing machine. He’ll be fine,” I said, hoping it was true.

One of the paramedics left us and returned with trolley, so I called my sister, no, my aunt. Shit, this was complicated. Aunt Sally. Sally was my, no - Rob’s sister and she only lived ten minutes away.

“Aunt Sally, it’s Sophie. Dad’s been hurt and they’re taking him away in an ambulance, can you come and sit with Simon until I get back?”

She was brilliant, agreeing to come over straight away, but I knew she would set off all the speed cameras on the way over.

They had Dad (me) strapped to the trolley, with a blanket over him. An oxygen mask was over his face, as they trundled him out to the waiting ambulance.

The fiddled about getting him just right, but then I was allowed to get in the back with them. Sally’s car arrived in a spray of gravel, she got out and rushed over.

“Sophie, are you all right, love?”

“Fine, but Dad isn’t.”

“What happened?”

I explained again, and she shook her head.

“He’s always been completely hopeless with electrical things. Where’s Simon?”

“Indoors.”

“Okay, have you got your mobile?”

I put my hands in the pocket of my skirt and found the mobile.

“Is it charged up? I know you girls.”

I checked and nodded.

“Good, give me a ring as soon as you know anything.”

I nodded and they shut the doors. The ambulance took off, with the sirens starting again.

I sat and looked at my unconscious form. If I was inside Sophie, where the hell was Sophie? For she wasn’t in me, or was she?

I then thought back to our earlier conversation, and a thought came to me.

‘No, please God, not that. The poor kid will be lost,’ I said to myself. I tried to imagine Sophie as a fifteen year-old boy in 1978. Then I realised that I was a fifteen year-old girl in 2003.

Fuck!

I looked down at my breasts.

I fainted.
 

*          *          *
 
I came round when one of the crew waved something smelly under my nose.

“Are you okay, love?”

I nodded.

“Sorry, it’s all a bit much.”

“That’s okay. Your Dad is fine, but he’s still unconscious. So hang in there.”

I nodded, attempting to order my swirling thoughts.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital at Watford, so they took Dad out of the back and wheeled him in. A nurse came over to me, taking me to a small room.

“Just wait here for a little while, the doctor wants to look at your Dad, so you don’t want to get in the way. Now you said that you had been shocked too?”

“I’m fine, Dad took the main jolt, I was just knocked backwards.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded, but found the banging of my earrings against my neck was most disconcerting.

She just checked me out and then smiled.

“You seem okay, would you like a drink or anything?”

“No thanks.”

She left me alone and I was able to try to piece together what had happened. Somehow, I was now inside my daughter’s brain. It was a matter of extreme concern to me over where she had gone.

I thought back to when I was fifteen, and to anything which could indicate a change in my lifestyle, or behaviour.

I then remembered the time I was bashed on the head in rugby, and spent the night in sickbay. This was a time where I actually don’t remember much of what happened. I have memories, but sort of detached ones. I do know that my French master gave me my first good report ever, and as a result, I went on to get my French O level, which surprised everyone.

I closed my eyes and thought about that particular episode of my life. I could picture me going to lessons, and I could even remember conversations. They gave me my first part in a play, as a girl called Sophie.

That was it.

The reason I wanted our daughter to be called Sophie. I was given a female part in a play, and the girl’s name had been Sophie. When I told Karen this story, she thought it was sweet.

I did remember thinking that time was weird. It had started when I got a whack on the head, but I don’t recall an end, things just became normal after a while. I couldn’t remember whether it was a long or short while.

I stood up and walked up and down, catching my reflection in the window. Bloody hell, this was a nightmare. I was fifteen again. It was enough trouble the last time, but this time I was a girl!

Oh, Sophie, where the hell are you? I cried to myself.

The nurse and a doctor came in. They shut the door, not a good sign.

“Sit down Sophie,” said the doctor.

My first reaction was to look round for my daughter, but then I twigged and sat.

“I’m Miles Peters and I’m the consultant neurologist here at Watford General. I have examined your father, and I must confess to be perplexed as to why he is in a coma. He has no signs of heart failure, and the shock hasn’t burned him at all. All his vital signs are fine, but it seems his mind has just shut down.”

“How can that happen?” I asked.

“The human brain is a highly complex organ, and all thoughts and memories are held in place by tiny electro-magnetic charges. It is possible that the electric shock he received confused the brain, and he has sort of gone to sleep.”

“Is his brain still functioning?”

“Oh yes, and it’s still keeping everything going, it is just he is very deeply asleep, and he may come out of it in ten minutes, ten days or ten months. I have no way of knowing. His subconscious and automatic responses are normal, it’s just he isn’t waking up, despite using all the acceptable stimuli.”

“Can I see him?”

“Of course, the nurse will take you to him now. We’ve given him an IV drip for fluid and nutrient. He’s breathing perfectly well by himself, and seems to be in no distress at all. I’m hopeful that he’ll just snap out of it and surprise us all.”

“Can he hear me?”

“I have no idea, as he shows no signs of being aware of his surroundings at all. But it can’t hurt.”

I followed the nurse to a private room. The body in the bed looked asleep, and the heart monitor bleeped away reassuringly.

I sat by the bed, holding my own hand. This was so strange.

“Daddy. Are you in there?” I said, and the nurse smiled sympathetically at me, leaving me alone. As soon as she had gone, I bent close to my old ear.

“Sophie. If you can hear me, I give up. You can go to the bloody concert with a bus load of rapists for all I care, now get your arse back here this minute!”

Another nurse came in, and I smiled pathetically at her.

“Do you want a cup of tea, or something?” she asked.

Actually, a double malt whisky would slide down really well just now.

“No thanks, I’m fine,” I said instead.

“If you want anything, just come and see us at the nurses’ station.”

“Thanks.”

I was alone again.

“Boy, is this a mess, or what?” I said to the thing in the bed. I no longer saw it as being me, I was here and able to talk, so the thing wasn’t me any more.

“Well, I can’t hang around here. I suppose this will all sort itself out, but I hope it doesn’t take too long.”

I remembered Sally, and looked at my watch. I had been here two hours already, so Sally would have told our parents and so Granny would appear and try to take over everyone’s life as usual. I was very fond of my parents, (Sophie’s grandparents), but they did like everyone to dance to their tune. I smiled, as Sophie could wrap both of them around her little finger, as they thought the world of her.

I tried to get it through my brain that I had to be Sophie until this thing sorted itself out. I was Sophie. I was Sophie. I was Sophie.

No I wasn’t.

I had to be.

Bugger.
 

*          *          *
 
I stood up and walked to the window. The miniskirt felt draughty, but I couldn’t pull it down at all. My legs were very exposed, and it was so different to just seeing them. As Sophie’s father, I had accepted that she wanted to be dressed a la mode, but as the person wearing the damn thing, I felt exposed to the world. I felt very awkward, particularly as the high-heeled shoes threatened to make me fall over with each step.

I was aware that I had Sophie’s memories, so I let them take over. I relaxed and let the body do what it was used to doing automatically. It worked, almost.

I walked out of the hospital, as there were signs everywhere for mobile phones to be switched off inside the buildings. I called home. Sally answered.

“Aunt Sally, it’s Sophie.”

“Hi girl, how is the silly old sod?”

“The silly old sod is in a coma, and they don’t know if or when he will ever come out of it. He is breathing fine, but he has a drip in his arm for fluid and nutrient. It’s as if he has gone out to lunch.”

“Oh God! What a mess. How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m fine. Tired and confused and pissed off, but other than that I’m fine.”

She laughed.

“You sound more like your Dad every day.”

“Thanks a bunch,” I said, and she laughed.

“Believe me, you could do a lot worse. He’s a smashing guy, your dad, a brilliant father and a super husband. He was okay as a brother too.”

“I suppose M.., Granny is on way?” I said, and she laughed again.

“Sorry, but I can’t stay forever. I’ve my own brats to deal with and Roger will start fretting if I’m away too long, poor old bugger.”

“Can you pick me up once they arrive?”

“Of course, I’ll bring your grandfather so he can see the boy. Oh Sophie, I am so proud of you, you did wonderfully.”

“Yeah,” I said, unconvinced.

“No, you did. Lots of girls would have panicked, but you kept your head. If your Dad pulls through, and I’m sure he will, it’ll be down to you.”

“I’d better go. When are the oldies due?”

Sally frowned and looked at me.

“That’s one of your Dad’s expressions too. Half an hour or so. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

I went back to the room and sat by the bed. I held hands with myself for a moment. I looked at the hands which had been mine until recently, and compared them with the ones I now had.

His were big but quite soft. I had always been a writer and not a labourer. In contrast, the hands I now had were small and delicate. They were pretty hands, but they belonged to my daughter and not to me. I didn’t deserve to even borrow this body, so from that moment, I was determined that while I was in charge of it nothing would happen to it.

I was still sitting, clasping the large hand tightly when Aunt Sally and Grandpa arrived.

“Hi Grandpa,” I said, and he gave me a huge hug.

“How’s my girl?” he asked.

“Okay, just,” I said, and he smiled. Sally squeezed my arm, as they both looked at the figure in the bed.

“He looks all right,” said Grandpa.

“He is all right, he has just buggered off for a bit,” I said, and Sally looked at me and frowned.

“Sorry Aunty,” I said, and she shook her head.

“My brother has a lot to answer for. You even talk like him now.”

I vowed to shut up.

The doctor came in and went through everything again. He smiled and was sympathetic, but the bottom line was he didn’t bloody know anything.

Sally gave me a kiss and a hug, and disappeared, so I went home with Grandpa.

I was quiet in the car, until he asked me about the accident. I told him and he nodded.

“Rob was never very good with electrical things. I’ll get someone in to look at the washing machine tomorrow.”

I almost told him to leave it, but I was hardly able to try that again to reverse what ever happened to us.

It was getting late, and I had school in the morning. Bloody hell, I would have to get out of that.

We arrived back to find Granny had already made the hot chocolate, and was sitting with Steven. I had to tell the story again, as she made ooohs and aaahs at the appropriate places.

“Well, your grandfather and I are here now, so don’t you fret. The important thing is to get on with life, so you two will be off to school again tomorrow, as usual.”

We both moaned at this, and I could tell that she had made her mind up. I went to my room and tried to work out what the hell I had to do at school in the morning.

As I stood in Sophie’s room, wearing Sophie’s body and clothes, I relaxed and tried to access her memories.

They flooded in, but I had a job to make sense of them. I found her bag and the timetable. I was very pleased to see she had even done her homework.

I sorted out my clothes and tried to remember what she wore. I had to sit down, close my eyes and try to become her. It worked, so I managed to have everything all laid out neatly. The school was an all-girls’ school, so I had a little smile, ironic, that all my young life, I had fantasised about getting into an all-girls’ school, but now I was able to, I was a girl too.

I cleaned my teeth and undressed. I stood examining Sophie’s body. Sophie was quite mature for her age, so I was surprised that boyfriends weren’t more in evidence. Sophie had a very neat body, firm breasts and a slender waist and slim hips, but still very feminine. She was quite fit from her hockey and swimming. She was a very pretty girl. I smiled. I was biased, being her proud father.

In fact, she was developing into a stunningly pretty girl, who had a smile to die for.

I slipped on a nightdress, and thought about the boyfriend situation.

There was no boy in particular. She seemed to feel those of her age were silly and immature, and the older ones were more interested in older girls. She was sort of in limbo, and I was sure it would sort itself out soon.

I caught the fleeting memory of a boy she liked, but just a face and a smile.

Granny and Grandpa came in to say goodnight, although I was less than comfortable with the idea of picking up Sophie’s life and running with it. I just hoped that I’d wake up in the hospital, and it would all be over.
 
 
Chapter 4. Sophie’s Story
 
 
“Mills, why have you never created a piece of work of this depth before?” Mr Harris asked.

We were in art class, and had to bring together poise and movement in a single picture.

I drew a ballerina in mid pirouette. I painted it in black and white, so that half of her was in the light, while the other half was in darkness or shadow. Her arms were stretched out above her head, and one leg was bent as the spin was ending.

I had drawn it in art at my school, and they had liked it then, so I suppose I was cheating. It came from a photograph that I had seen in a paper in 2002, so if they could do me for cheating in advance, I would be very unlucky.

“I don’t know sir. Perhaps I’m a late developer,” I said, and the others laughed. So did Mr Harris, as he shook his head.

The week had been okay, I suppose. I had coped with all the lessons, except Latin; my God, what an inane subject. Dad’s memory had saved me, so I was able to bluff my way through. Maths too. Not my favourite subject, but obviously one of Dad’s. So together, we brought up his grades. I hoped he would do the same for me.

I found that by relaxing and trying to think like him, his memories opened up for me. I had even got used to having a willy and stuff. It was hilarious, and I was now almost able to go to the loo without giggling every time.

Not having boobs was a real bonus. I hadn’t realised how much they get in the way, but not having them kept bringing my situation home to me. I thought about Dad struggling with my life, and that almost set me off again with the giggles.

My first time in the dining hall was an experience. I had seen the Harry Potter films, and I immediately was transported onto the set. I half expected an owl to fly the length of the hall with a letter for someone.

It really did look the part, with the six very long tables, where one sat according to houses. The younger boys near the door; and the older ones at the top table end. I was somewhere in the middle on the far left table, the Warburton table. Also, the food disappeared as if by magic. I would never have believed that the sons of gentlemen could stoop to the level of table behaviour as I witnessed. Mind you within a couple of days I was as bad, otherwise one would starve.

A team of the younger boys delivered the food in large troughs to the tables. Plates were distributed, and a free-for-all ensued. Speed and asbestos fingers were the two essential qualities required for survival, and it took me a little while to manage to acquire a square meal.

The food was actually quite good and plentiful, as long as one was quick enough. Mind you, there were those like Andy Kennedy who didn’t eat the food, except salad cream sandwiches. All the more for the rest of us.

I felt very uncomfortable with Sean. My problem was, that as Sophie Mills I could have fancied him something rotten, but knew that as Robert Mills, I mustn’t and couldn’t. I worked really hard at thinking like Dad, but then Sean would smile at me, and I’d go all gooey. Mike was fine, and we got on really well. He was funny and made me laugh. I could see why he and Dad were best friends. They were equally stupid.

Not playing games was good, as I was dreading the bloody rugger. I watched a couple of games and it looked totally demonic - Applied violence with the added interest of an occasional odd shaped ball.

On Friday after prep, Mr Hodges had me come to his study. He was my housemaster, in charge of Warburton House.

“Sit down, Rob, I just wanted to catch up with you, as you’ve had a rough week. How is the head?”

“Fine thanks, sir.”

“No headaches or dizziness?”

“Not so far, no sir.”

“Good, good. I’ve been hearing good things about you in French and Art. Bit of a dark horse, eh what?”

“Yes sir.”

“I called your parents on Tuesday evening, just to let them know that you were clonked on the old bonce. They asked whether you need to go home, and I said probably best to just keep on. Often when one has breaks in the routine, it takes a lot to catch up later.”

“Right,” I said. He was a bit of a loonie, this one.

“Fine. Well CCF on Monday. You will be up to that, won’t you?”

I stared blankly at him, and then the memory seeped in. CCF — Combined Cadet Force. The one day in the week when little boys dressed up as soldiers and learned to kill other countries’ little boys.

“Probably sir,” I said, as doubtfully as I could.

“Good. Then back on full games on Tuesday, I hear you might get into the Colts. That’s jolly good. Don’t get injured again, we will need you for the junior house match.”

“I don’t intend to, sir.”

“Good, well, off you go, and if you need a chat, my door is always open.”

I left, shaking my head - he was a fruit-loop.

I went back to the study, to find that Mike had gone somewhere and Sean was sitting in his old armchair.

“What did old Hedgehog want?”

“Just checking up to see I haven’t died.”

“Have you?” he asked, and smiled.

Shit, he was gorgeous!

“Not last time I looked,” I said, turning away. This was unfair. I was a girl, how could I be expected to do this?

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of genuine concern.

No I’m not, I think I love you and I want you to take me in your arms and kiss me.

Well, that’s what I thought.

“I’m fine, he reminded me about cadets on Monday. I’d forgotten,” I said. All third formers were in the pre-corps section, where the basics, such as map reading and first aid were taught. Fourth formers were in the B squads, and went through basic training, drill and weapons familiarisation. We were fifth formers, and we were due to move on to our specialist sections now.

“Have you chosen yet?”

“Chosen what?”

“Don’t you remember, you can choose which section to join?”

“I had forgotten, what are the choices?”

“Army have the Combat/Cadre platoon, REME section, Signals section, and Engineers. Navy are just the navy, and the air cadets are just the air cadets.”

“Is that it?”

“It’s the cadets, no sewing circle. Duh,” he said, laughing at me.

“What about Duke of Edinburgh’s award?”

“The what?”

“Never mind. I’m not sure. What are you going for?”

“Combat/Cadre platoon. Why don’t you join me, it’ll be fun. We go on long camps and stuff.”

I imagined being stuck in a two-man tent with him for a week. No, down girl, - behave!

“I think I’ll join the RAF section, at least then I’ll get an idea how a plane works,” Or get to meet some pilots. Sophie, behave!

“REME would be my second choice. You get to muck about with engines.”

“What’s Mike doing?”

“His old man is a bloody naval Captain, so guess?”

“RAF?”

“Right,” he said, and we both laughed.

I sat down and Sean fiddled about with the record player.

“Do you want some music?” he asked.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Give me a clue?”

“I dunno. Pet Shop Boys? U2, Light House family? Boyzone? Dido?”

He looked at me blankly, and I realised what I’d said.

“Anything Sean. Beatles?”

He dug out the classic Beatles double white album, the one Dad went on and on about, and put it on the turntable. This was archaic. It was fascinating to see history being made.

We sat reading the play we were supposed to be learning, and I was conscious of him observing me.

I looked up. He was looking at me very oddly.

“What?” I asked.

He frowned.

“What do you make of this play?”

“It’s a play,” I said, helpfully.

“Yeah, but you have to play a girl’s part. Is that what you want?”

“I haven’t any choice. I’m not really bothered. Why?”

“I got the impression you were embarrassed.”

“About what?”

“Playing a girl.”

“It isn’t exactly what I was dying to do. But it is only a play. It isn’t as if I have to do it for real or anything.”

He frowned. “I suppose not,” he said, but obviously he had something else on his mind.

“Sean, what’s really bothering you?” I asked.

“I’m not sure, and that’s the truth. But, it is silly, and I don’t want you to say anything to anybody, but when you were chosen to play Sophie, I was relieved.”

“Relieved? Why?”

“I don’t know, I think I’d rather do it with you rather than anyone else.”

“Do it, what, the play? Oh, do you fancy me then, Sean?” I teased, and he went very quiet.

Shit, this wasn’t how it was supposed to work.

“Look, Sean, we’re friends and that’s it. We can have a laugh and do the best we can, but don’t start getting all deep on me. I don’t need it and I can’t be doing with it. Okay?”

“Okay. But I just wanted you to know.”

I sighed. Bugger.

He fancied me, that was all I needed, and Dad said he never came across anyone gay at school. Only one of his best mates, that’s all.

As Sophie, I thought he was really nice. As Rob, he was just a mate, yet he fancied Rob and not Sophie. How bloody confusing.

Mike arrived and I felt happier, the atmosphere was building up, so I almost expected Sean to make a pass at me. The problem was I might have encouraged him.

The moment passed and was gone, at least for the time being.
 

*          *          *
 
The weekend came and went, and I prepared myself for CCF. I had always considered myself very anti-war. As a girl, I was all ready to conceive, bear and give birth to children. The whole concept of fighting and killing was alien to me. I accepted and agreed that one had to have soldiers to defend your country and your country’s interests. It was just that I had never considered being involved.

I was now expected to take part, so I was resigned to doing so, but fell short of boundless enthusiasm for the activity. I saw the indifference and general attitude of most of the others, and felt reassured that I was in the majority. A few loonies, like Sean, actually enjoyed it, looking forward to Mondays with great enthusiasm.

As I bulled my boots and polished my belt, I wondered how Dad was getting on in my place. I smiled as I thought of the potential problem areas, but was dreading to think of the repair work that I was going to have to undertake on my return.

Then I had another bleak thought, what if there was no return?

What if, I now had to follow Dad’s career and marry Mum, just so I could be born to go round in this circle forever, like a sort of Ground Hog Day? It didn’t bear thinking about, so I blanked it out as quickly as I could.

I found that I settled down into the routine very easily. The boys were less bitchy than the girls with whom I was friendly. They were very basic, these boys, and up front. If they were pissed off, they’d say so, and why. There wasn’t the scheming and back-biting that some girls practised. I found it refreshing, even if the conversation levels were very superficial, as boys hardly discussed their feelings. They had fixed opinions about things, but never disclosed what they were feeling or why.

I also came to terms with my new gender, and once I controlled the giggles every time I went for a pee, it ceased to bother me. I was the same as everyone else, so actually found there was no hassle at all. Getting up and ready took seconds instead of nearly an hour, and washing seemed just an exercise in getting the worst of the mud off.

Short hair was easy to wash, dry and brush, and again, it took seconds instead of the ages I was used to. Clothes were simply something to wear to keep warm and dry, and really no one gave a toss what they looked like. There was no one to impress in any case, as blokes just didn’t give a damn about anyone else.

I suppose the older sixth formers did, as they didn’t have to wear uniform. Not that it was a strict uniform in any case. Tweed jackets, of subdued colours, grey flannel trousers, third, fourth and fifth year wore light blue shirts, and sixth form wore any coloured shirts. House ties for the lower years, and most of the sixth formers wore their sports colours ties or prefect ties.

There was no dressing to impress or to make any statement, and I found that strange at first, and then appreciated it was one less hassle. Dad was going to have a real problem. I couldn’t help but grin.
 

*          *          *
 
Monday morning arrived with a grey squelch. The rain was that variety that drenched everything in seconds, and one almost felt damp watching it out of the window.

After breakfast I had to pay a visit to the sick bay to have my ‘off-games’ chit signed, and to be given my release so I could now enjoy the dubious pleasure of being trampled to death on the rugby pitch.

I went to chapel, sitting in bum-numbing boredom with 350 other unfortunates, as we followed an ancient tradition of following a middle-class, white, English Jesus Christ, who apparently existed only to help us beat off the fuzzy-wuzzy and the damn Hun, to perpetuate the Empire and class system, keeping everyone in their place. Pardon me if I don’t subscribe to their values.

The morning lessons dragged, and we had double maths. Urgh.

I tried to let Dad’s memories take over, and would have liked to have left him to it, but unfortunately, it needed a little effort to keep awake on my part. Lunch arrived, and then I had to dress in my army uniform, with boots, puttees, beret and belt. We wore the green ‘barrack’ trousers and green pullover with scratchy shirt and tie underneath.

We paraded, and I let Dad’s memories help me out a little. But it was so shambolic that I could have bluffed it without his help.

The cadet Sergeant-Major called everyone onto the parade, so we sort of got together in vague rows and lines in the school quadrangle. We were brought to attention, and the Major, who was plain Mr Harris for the rest of the week, came out and there was lots of saluting, stamping about and silliness.

I could imagine the Russians quaking in their boots, with laughter, that is.

We, in the old B squads, were then ordered to go to the group or section we wanted to join, so I went to the RAF section. There was a little realigning, as too many went for the REME section, and too few to the combat platoon. Some were ‘volunteered’ to move. Mike and I were fine, fortunately.

It was only then that I remembered Dad telling me that he acquired his love of flying from the RAF section at school. I smiled as I had chosen it for him.

We were marched round to the QM’s stores, where we went into the back room and exchanged the army green for the RAF blue uniforms. The shirts weren’t scratchy, and we didn’t use boots and puttees. I was far happier, as we then spent the rest of the afternoon in a lecture about the RAF section. It was an easy day.

We had two more lessons after tea, but they were no great hardship. The work was much the same as I was used to, but I was glad that it wasn’t at the sixth form level, because Dad and I were very different, and our choices of specialised subjects at A level would not be the same. But we were at O level standard, and it was similar to my GCSE syllabus.

We had double English, when we had a read through the play, in role. Sean put rather too much feeling into his rather lovey-dovey speeches to me, and I was as ambivalent as I could be.

Needless to say, the kissing noises and other catcalls made it so much easier.

- Not!

I resigned myself for a tiresome few months until it was over.

I then caught my thoughts.

Months?

I wanted to go back now, and here I was now thinking in terms of months.

I looked around the classroom. These boys saw nothing different in me, but I wasn’t the same as my Dad, or was I?

Was I really Rob, suffering from a head injury, and thought I was my own daughter?

No, I remembered all my friends at school, my bother, and all my aunts and uncles and grandparents. I was Sophie, and I had to hold on to that, otherwise I would never be able to go back.

God, this was hard.

“Mills. Are you part of this, or not?” asked Mrs Rennie.

“Sorry,” I said, finding my place in the play again.

“I am not that optimistic at this production winning a BAFTA,” Mrs Rennie said sarcastically.

I read my part, and as I was having a Sophie moment, it was actually very convincing.

Mrs Rennie looked up and smiled, as I finished the running dialogue I was having with Sean,

We struggled on to the bell, and went back to our rooms. The evening passed without incident and I settled down in the dormitory, but sleep was not easily coming. My brain was in a whirl, as I just wanted this to end. My last conscious thought was a silent prayer to be back in my body when I awoke.
 
 
Chapter 5. Rob’s Story
 
 
As my curtains were pulled back and consciousness returned, I was momentarily back in the past. Particularly as I was woken up by my mother, (sorry, for those of you who may be confused, just like me - by Sophie’s grandmother) but as I scratched my chest, feeling the breasts where none had been previously, I was brought back to the rather unpleasant present.

I spent a hectic hour trying to get ready. Sophie’s uniform was fine, as I knew enough about what she used to wear to get that sorted, but I was defeated by all the little tubs and bottles in the bathroom.

I had lived with them there since Karen and I first married, but had never more than an inkling as to what they were all for. I rushed breakfast, managing to catch the bus, just. I felt so self-conscious in a skirt that I was convinced that everyone was looking at me. I recognised Sophie’s friends and sat with them. Her memories gave me names and little snippets of details, but I was rather quieter than Sophie was usually.

“What’s up, Soph?” said a girl, Julia, I think she was called.

“My Dad’s in hospital in a coma,” I said, and then had to tell everyone the story. Having no mother was also a factor as to how people reacted, so it was interesting how different people treated me; or it would have been had I the time and inclination to take an interest in such things.

Sophie seemed to be a popular girl, as I appeared to be surrounded by friends, who just took me in hand. They even explained to the teachers about the accident, so I never had to explain why I was behaving strangely.

As they rushed me from pillar to post, I was very thankful to have access to Sophie’s memories, particularly in French and Art. I had never been brilliant at French, and my previous experiences with art were not entirely successful. All, that is except one. I once painted a spinning ballerina, surprising everyone as to how good it was, even myself.

Trips to the girls’ loos were different, and I learned an awful lot from there. A small black market was well established in one particular cubicle, selling makeup, contraceptives and cigarettes; and I smiled as I realised the initiative that this showed.

My biggest distraction was my body. This business of having large globular growths sticking out of one’s chest all the time was fun for a bit, but after a while, they became a real pain. They got in the way for everything. In cooking, sorry, home economics, they managed to catch everything, as they did in practical chemistry and physics. If I didn’t burn them with sulphuric acid soon, it would be a miracle.

We had hockey practice in the afternoon, and I was relieved to have something in which I could lose myself for a while. It was actually good fun, and I even forgot my predicament for a very short time. Being constantly called Sophie made it hard to forget for long, as did wearing a draughty skirt, and having boys watch us as we ran about.

This boy business was another potential minefield. I was hoping that this pickle in which we found ourselves would be over soon, as I didn’t want to ruin Sophie’s chances with a guy just because I was me inside. I hoped that my memory of my schooldays was clear enough and uncomplicated by romance. It was all a bit vague and I started to worry about that too.

Afterwards, in the changing room, I should have been in seventh heaven - being surrounded by semi-naked, nubile young girls, and yet I wasn’t, as I was one of them.

Jenny approached me.

“Are you coming to the Justin Timberlake in December?”

“I don’t think I can, not with Dad in hospital and everything.”

“Who’s to stop you? Come on, you’ll need a break. He may be like it for years, so you can’t just hang about and never do anything.”

“I’ll ask my Gran,” I said.

“Mind you tell her that your Dad already said yes,” she said with a grin.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, smiling at the devious nature of woman.

“Besides, Matthew is coming,” she said, with a wink.

I dredged through Sophie’s memory and found this piece of information struck a chord - the face and the smile that I glimpsed earlier. Matthew was the older brother of another girl, Kate, and he was gorgeous. Sophie had seen him once, and thought he looked quite nice, but he was eighteen.

“He’s probably going out with someone,” I said.

“That’s not what Kate said. Apparently, he asked her about you at the weekend.”

I experienced a very odd feeling. Mentally, that information was useful, but whatever hormones I had welcomed the news by giving me a fluttery tummy, and making my pulse race slightly. It was most peculiar.

“The other thing about him, he drives a car, so if you start dating, we can go out as a foursome.”

“Great,” I said. “But I’ve only seen him once, so he will probably hate me.”

“Sophie, don’t be silly, you know you always look wonderful and everyone falls for you. It’s that you never seem to like them.”

“They’re always too young and silly. That is why I like them older. And the older ones don’t fancy me because I’m fifteen.”

“You don’t look fifteen, and I think that’s what puts off some boys, as you look so much older. Just yesterday, one of the sixth formers from the boys’ school asked me whether you were a sixth-former.”

“Who was that?”

“Robin Lake.”

I tried but couldn’t picture him.

“He’s their captain of the first fifteen rugby team,” she supplied, as my expression must have spoken for me.

“Oh, him?”

“Yes, Miss Smarty-pants, him.”

I reddened, as the picture came through nice and clear. He was a big lad, eighteen going on twenty-five, but he wasn’t as nice as Matthew.

“Come on, hurry up, or we’ll miss the bus,” she said, and I managed to dress without missing out anything.

I caught the bus home, arriving home just after Steven. Aunt Sally was there, so she and I organised an early supper, and then the two of us went to the hospital. The grandparents had been there all day, and Dad (me) hadn’t moved a muscle.

We walked in and I recognised a couple of the nurses who smiled at me. I went straight to the room and looked at the still form on the bed. I sat down and held my own hands. It really was a surreal experience.

Sally had tears in her eyes as she watched us.

“You poor girl, you don’t deserve this. Not both your parents.”

“He isn’t dead yet. You mustn’t think that way,” I said.

She sat next to me, looking at her brother’s still face.

“I feel I ought to pray, or something. But don’t know how to,” she said.

I took her hand. “You don’t need to pray, Aunt Sally, God know what’s on your mind,” I told her, and she looked at me, quite surprised.

“You are the most amazing girl. He’s so lucky having such a wonderful daughter.”

I smiled. I knew that, both of me did.

We sat. I almost felt things were normal. The heart monitor bleeped, and I was content just to be there. Sally was quite fidgety, but as long I was here, I believed that there was a chance that we could reverse this damn thing.

Nothing happened.

The doctor came, saw me and was very sympathetic, but was unable to give us any more idea as to when (if ever) the coma would clear. I was doomed to being Sophie for a bit longer.

Aunt Sally took me home again and was quite chatty, but my responses to her questions made her frown. At one point, she pulled over into a lay-by, and turned the engine off.

“Sophie, I want to ask you a question, and I don’t want you to think your Aunt Sally has lost it. But something happened to your Dad when he was about your age, and he and I have shared a secret for years. I thought he was pulling my leg, but now, well, I’m not so sure.”

“What?” I said, hardly daring to breathe.

“Well, one half term, when we were both home from school. He was at boarding school, so I never saw much of him when we were growing up, except for the holidays. He and I were stuck indoors on a really wet day, and we were just talking together, rather like this. Anyway, his behaviour was very odd at times, it was almost as if he, now don’t be upset, but it was almost as if he was a girl. He would talk about clothes and cooking, and boys. It was very odd, as he was a good three years older than I was.

“I must have shown that I was confused, and he asked me if I could keep a secret. I said I could, so he told me something that I will never forget.

“His exact words were: “Sally, I’m not Rob. I don’t know how, or why, but I am not your brother. My name is Sophie, and I was born in 1988. I’m Rob’s daughter, he’s my Dad. There was an accident involving a washing machine, and we were both electrocuted. I don’t know what happened to him, but I ended up here, in his body.”

“There, now you must think I’m potty?” she said.

“Sal, you aren’t potty,” I said, shutting my eyes and leaning back in the seat.

“Rob?” she asked, tentatively.

I nodded.

“Oh my God, I don’t believe this!” she said.

“Believe it, girl, because it’s true. Thank God, she was a bright kid, and saw fit to share this with you. Without it, I would be truly alone,” I said.

“Are you really Rob?” she asked, frowning.

“Yes Sal, I’m your brother. Remember Rod Granger?”

“Okay, say no more,” she said rather too quickly, going red at the thought of him. Rod and Sally had embarked on a very steamy love affair some years ago. It ended rather abruptly when Sally found out that he was already married. We were all sworn to secrecy, and then Sally met good old Keith.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“What can we do? I’m stuck until whatever happened is reversed. Now think back, when did things change again?”

Sally frowned and looked out at the passing traffic.

“Half term was in the autumn, I remember Dad and Mum took me to watch you in a play, and you played the part of, of, my God, you were Sophie!”

“How did I do?”

“Brilliantly, you looked very convincing, so much so that the hero seemed to enjoy kissing you rather a lot.”

“Sean Simmonds, yeah, I had a few niggly doubts about him. But, he got married, had kids as well, and he is a bloody Lieutenant Colonel now. Go on.”

“Well, that was a week before the end of term, and then we both broke up, and you came home for the holidays.”

“Well?”

“I can’t remember. I think something happened on Christmas Eve, but you were always different and I thought you were just teasing me.”

“How do you mean?”

“You told me that we must never tell anyone about you being Sophie, and I must always treat you the same, just in case we should forget, and then we might get into trouble. I really just thought you were teasing me.”

“Even at the start?”

“No, I believed you then, but as time went on, occasionally you would talk about fashion or boy bands in the year 2003. In fact, I started to worry when Boyzone started up, as that was a name I remembered you talking about.”

“You mean Sophie, not me.” I said, smiling.

“Don’t start. I don’t know who you are, or were. This is so awful.”

“Sal, let’s get one thing straight, this is happening to me. How do you think I feel with these bloody things stuck to my chest?” I asked, pointing to Sophie’s respectable breasts.

She laughed, despite looking confused.

“So Sal, what happened on Christmas Eve?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t remember, but on Christmas Day, you hugged me so hard, then you hugged Mum and Dad and went round almost crying and laughing all day. It was very strange.”

“Thank God. Only three months to go,” I said. “I can manage that, now I have a target.”

“What can I do, Rob?”

“Don’t call me that. I need to be Sophie, so that she can pick up her life again. I need you to be there to help me be the girl I have to be. God, Sally, I am so pleased that girl was clever enough to confide in you.”

“Can we do anything for her?”

“No, there is no way we can communicate with her. She could leave us a letter, but not the other way around.”

“Oh my God!” she said.

“What?”

“She did. I’ve just remembered. Rob gave me a letter and told me to give it to, oh dear God. He told me to give it to his daughter at a time that I would understand.”

“Where is it Sal?”

“At home. I put it with my dolls house. Only I had two boys, didn’t I?”

She started up the car, and we drove over to her home. Uncle Keith gave me a hug, and told me I was being a brave girl. The boys, Mark and Lewis, were going to bed, they were eight and six.

Then Sally and I went up into the attic. It was dusty, but there was a light, and she found the box with her dolls and the dolls house.

She rooted around for a while, finally producing an envelope.

“Got it.”

It was addressed to Sophie Mills.

I took it and opened it.
 
 

30th October 1978      Hi Sophie (hee hee)      If you’re reading this, it means that Aunt Sally has come through for us.      You were right, you did have a hard time, but I reckon that you got the rough end of the deal. Have we had our monthly yet? If not, have fun. If so, hee hee.      Rugger is an utterly futile game, and should be banned by international agreement. Mind you, the boys butts are cute in those tight little shorts.      I don’t know how long this nightmare is going to last, I hope it is up soon, I am getting fed up with Latin and rugger. Mike is great and you must keep in touch with him. I like him, and he’s a good mate. I’ve chosen the RAF section in the CCF, if that isn’t what you would have done, shoot me later.      I told Sally at half term, while I was at home. And gave her this letter for you. I don’t know if it will help, but I feel alone here, and you must feel the same. This way, at least one of us can get some help.      Your parents are much nicer as grandparents. You were right, your Dad is/was stricter than you. I will never ever complain about you again, you’re a sweetie. Oh, did you go to the Justin Timberlake concert? If it hasn’t happened yet, then go, and the memories will be there for me when I get back, if I ever do, that is.      I really miss you and Steven, and it is funny having an aunty who is three years younger than me. I want to come home Dad, please do what you can. I Love You ME Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx      P.S. Sean Simmonds is confused and thinks he is gay, and fancies you/me rotten. I reckon I can sort him out.

 
 
I started to cry for her. She was all alone in an alien world, so I wanted to go there and help her out.

Sally gave me a cuddle, so we wept together for a few moments.
 

*          *          *
 
“Right, Sophie, I have to take you home,” she said, so I nodded.

The drive was only a few minutes, but we hardly spoke.

“Do you want to come and stay until Christmas?”

“No, I have to be there for Steve. Granny and Grandpa are fine, and at least we get some time with them. I think I’ll go to this concert that Sophie wanted to go to, I owe her at least the memories.”

Sally smiled.

“I’ll speak to Mum, and make sure she knows that Rob approved.”

“Thanks.”

We arrived and went in.

“Any change?” Grandpa asked me.

“No, he’s still away with the fairies.”

“Poor devil. God, this is awful for you, Sophie.”

“It’s awful for all of us,” I said, going up to bed.
 

*          *          *
 
The week progressed. I told Jenny that I’d go to the concert in early December, so she told me that the minibus would pick us up from her house. That weekend I went and spent some time with Jenny and Caroline. They were in the lower sixth, the year above me (Sophie), but I always got on better with them than most of my own year group.

I didn’t say a lot, but just picked up the youth culture that Sophie always told me I didn’t understand. She’d been right, as I still didn’t understand it, but then again, neither did half the youth.

On the Saturday, we went to the cinema at Watford. We had a pizza before and were walking across to the cinema when a group of boys saw us. Matthew Kaiser was one of them. His sister, Kate, was in the same class as me.

“Hi Jenny,” said one of the boys. I didn’t know him and she called him John.

“Hi John, what’s up?” she said.

“We were going to see the Pirates of the Caribbean,” he said.

“So were we,” said Jenny, and I watched as Matthew pushed through to be nearer me. He smiled at me and I smiled back. He was sort of hunky, if I thought like Sophie, that is.

“Hello Sophie, you don’t know me, but..”

“Yes I do, you’re Matthew and you’re Kate’s brother,” I said, and he went red.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you knew me.”

“You asked Kate about me, and she told me. You can’t keep anything quiet with girls,” I said, and he laughed.

He was older than most of the boys who had approached me so far, but I felt comfortable with him. I didn’t know what Sophie would have done, so I just smiled at him.

We all went into the cinema together. There were six boys and three girls. I found myself sitting next to Matthew and smiled to myself. I admired good planning in a bloke.

The movie was great, and I half expected an arm to snake across my shoulders at some point. But, by half way through, it didn’t and I was mildly disappointed. I was also relieved as this was a complication for which I was ill prepared.

Then came a really scary bit and I jumped and found myself grabbing his hand. There we stayed, he wasn’t deliberately holding it against my will, as it was just quite nice. I left it there and he sort of held it.

At the romantic climax, I wasn’t prepared for the kiss that he gave me. He leaned across and gently kissed my cheek. I looked at him in surprise, as he gave no warning at all. It wasn’t unpleasant, just not expected.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I found myself squeezing his hand.

“It’s okay,” I heard Sophie’s voice say, and then we were kissing properly.

My heart was racing, as every female hormone in my female body was on overdrive, and my body responded normally. I let my brain go blank and became Sophie.

The kiss was not an experienced one, but it was a heartfelt and genuine one, and I responded in kind. I let his tongue glide between my lips, and we touched tongues for a second. I felt my body react in ways I did not expect. My nipples hardened, and I had a tingling sensation between my legs. I wrapped a hand behind his head, and I then felt the arm snake over my shoulders.

The film ended, but we were oblivious. I only realised when Jenny’s laughter filtered through.

We disentangled, feeling embarrassed but somehow quite pleased. My brain was in a real twirl. I was Sophie. I told myself this over and over again, and somehow the whole episode seemed perfectly right. In fact, I had not had one stray thought about the various naked and semi naked females that I had seen over the last couple of weeks. It seems that I was a normal heterosexual female, after all.

As we left the cinema, Matthew took my hand, so we walked out hand-in-hand. We were due to catch a bus, but he offered to take me home in his car.

“I’m staying with Jenny, and so is Caroline,” I said.

“Then I’ll take all of you home,” he offered. We accepted.

He drove his Mum’s Vauxhall Corsa, which he drove very well. He dropped us off at Jenny’s house.

I stayed behind as the others went in, grinning and winking at me.

“I just wanted to say sorry,” he said.

“What for?”

“Kissing you, I should have asked.”

“Don’t be silly, who ever asks?”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“I liked it,” I said.

“Are you going to the concert in December?”

“Why, do you want me to?”

“Very much.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“Really? Kate said you weren’t going to.”

“Kate’s out of date, isn’t she?”

He reddened and nodded. “You are very pretty.”

“Thanks, you are pretty smart yourself,” I said, meaning it.

“May I kiss you again?”

“Who has to ask?”

“I do,” he said, kissing me.

Standing like this was more comfortable, and the kiss went on and on. Finally, he broke off, which was just as well, as I was almost ready to lie down and open my legs. Shit, this sex business what hard! Girls got knocked just as hard as boys, and I could see how accidents happened.

“Goodnight Sophie. Can I see you again?”

“If you want.”

“I want, very much.”

“Then I’d like that too.”

“Bye then,” he said, kissing me gently on the cheek. I watched him drive off, turned and walked inside.

Jenny and Caroline were full of it, and I got a real ribbing, but I didn’t care. Hell. Had I fallen for the boy?

I went to sleep remembering that kiss.
 

*          *          *
 
I woke up the next morning, feeling odd. I didn’t feel ill, but I didn’t feel well, and when I got up I realise why. I cursed Sophie for being female, cursed myself for being inept at electrical things, and cursed the curse that I was now experiencing.

I was a miserable cow all day and felt rotten. I felt heavy in the abdomen, and sort of bloated and my boobs ached. I made sure everyone was aware of my mood, but found little sympathy amongst school friends and teachers alike.

It lasted about four or five days, and as I sat by the bed in the hospital, I earnestly prayed for this all to be over.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Gruesome Tuesday by Tanya Allan   Fifteen-year old Sophie wants to go to a Justin Timberlake concert, but her father, Rob, doesn’t want to let her go. Having lost his wife to cancer, he may be over-protective. They have an argument, in which she accuses him of not understanding what it is like to be young. He remembers his youth well, and telling her that she has it easy compared to him. A freaky electric shock transports her into her father’s fifteen-year old body in a boys’ boarding school in the 1970s, and he ends up as her in the present. Things then get very interesting indeed!

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

---

Originally written in 2004, revised in 2009.
 
The Legal Stuff: Gruesome Tuesday  ©2004, 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. Sophie's Story
 
 
Half term loomed and, as it was near the end of October, I had survived nearly two months of being Rob. I had bruises in places I didn’t know existed - bloody rugby. Why someone hadn’t shot that bastard William Webb-Ellis, I will never know. Now soccer I could have coped with, but rugby, I was only grateful for Rob’s slim build that kept him out on the wing or at full back.

The first day I had to play was a nightmare. Now, I had watched it enough with my Dad to understand the basics, so I knew that you weren’t allowed to chuck, sorry, pass the ball forwards, and if you kicked it straight into touch from anywhere outside your own twenty-two line, then the line-out was level with where you kicked it from. But the rest was pretty vague.

Anyway, there I was with the others, feeling very self-conscious, and yet indistinguishable from my contemporaries. Mr Green asked me how my head was, and I was sorely tempted to say it was awful, but didn’t.

We had a warm up session, and then a practice.

I was shown how to tackle, and it was explained that if you tackled round the legs, using the shoulder, then there was less likelihood of getting hurt, so I tried it and found it worked, usually. Rob had a reputation of being a good tackler, so that only meant I had to play more.

“All right Mills, after that wonderful tackle last week, I want you in the A team, so go full back, will you.”

I stood behind everyone else, and every time someone came through the line, I simply tackled them. If the ball was kicked at me, I either caught it, or had a good attempt to. Dad used to kick the ball for Steven, so I used to join in, but I have to say, I found it easier without tits.

I was still terrified. God knows how I would have coped in the scrum. As it was, I learned to run very, very fast. As soon as I had that ball, I would just run, and hope to hell that no one would catch me. As a result, I scored some things called tries, and then I was selected for the colts, which meant that demented fools from other schools got to inflict GBH on me as well.

If I had been all pathetic and girly, (which, I discovered was the worst name you could call anyone in rugby.) I would have been put down to a wally’s game. But I knew that Dad loved his rugby, so I owed it to him to be as good at it as I could.

The other problem with rugby was the showers afterwards. It was a cruel trick that fate had played on me, as I was surrounded by naked boys and was not in a position to appreciate them. I did see an amazing variety of penises. I had not seen any, apart from Dad’s, and so it was an education to see big ones, little ones, thin ones, thick ones and some very odd shaped ones. I found it very hard not to stare or get the giggles, as they all wiggled about as the boys walked. And if I was anywhere near Sean in the showers, he would always have his back to everyone, as his was usually standing to attention. I was now seriously worried about him.

The play was coming along, and we had been to the wardrobe department for our costumes. I was given a set of five different outfits for each of the scenes. One was a summer dress, in yellow and gold. There was a skirt and blouse, a tennis skirt and top, and slinky baby-doll nightie, for the farcical night time scene, and a long black evening dress for the final dinner party scene where everything happened.

I was fitted with a long blonde wig, and I was suddenly struck as to how much I resembled myself, or Rob’s daughter, or her me. This whole thing was getting me really confused.

I was a girl, trapped in my father’s body at age fifteen, pretending to be a girl, aged twenty, in a play. If I didn’t need psychotherapy after all this, I would be doing very well.

If I found it hard, how much more so would Dad?

We didn’t have to wear them for a while, so Mrs Harris, who looked after the wardrobe, promised to alter the clothes after the fitting. I was fortunate in that most of my costumes fitted, and so little work was needed.

It was really odd, as I dressed as a girl, it was as if I, as Sophie, was allowed to take over again, and was able to walk and move with my natural mannerisms again. Even the long hair was nice and it felt right. I hoped I wasn’t turning my father into a transvestite.

Talking of which, I was now almost convinced that Sean was gay. Putting aside his permanent erections in the showers, he would give me little smiles, and occasionally he would ‘accidentally’ touch me.

It came to a head, (poor choice of expression, - sorry) one evening when we were going through our lines in our study. Mike was there, but had to go and run some errand or other for one of the prefects.

The pair of us continued, and at one point, the hero has to declare his love for Sophie.
 
 

	Him		Sophie, I say, have you got a mo?
	Me		What is it Michael?
	Him		I just want to say that you are looking awfully stunning today.
	Me		That’s nice of you, what’s brought this on so suddenly?
	Him		It isn’t sudden. You must know that I feel something towards you?
	Me		A little, but then I thought you just had asthma.
	Him		No, you make my heart sing.
	Me		Oh dear, can anything be done to help that?
	Him		No, I mean, I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you.
	Me		Oh dear, does that mean you will want to kiss me?
	Him		May I?
	Me		I suppose so, if you must.

 
 
At this point Sean’s voice wavered, and he almost broke down.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Shit. I can’t do this.”

“It’s only a play Sean. Don’t get so worried about it,” I said.

“You don’t understand. I can’t pretend any longer.”

“What, about being gay and feeling what you do about me?” I said.

He stared at me, with his mouth opening and closing without sound. He looked quite shocked that I had guessed.

“Sean, a deaf and dumb paraplegic could have guessed how you felt. I just haven’t encouraged you because I’m not gay, so I don’t want you to get any confusing signals.”

“You know, and yet you’re still my friend?” he asked, somewhat astounded.

“Sean, being gay is not like some infectious mental illness, it is just part of the human condition. It’s how you deal with it that determines whether you screw any chance of a productive life. Prejudice is rife, and will be so right up into the next century, so what you have to do is make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“Whether you give in to it, and let it rule your life, or whether you control it, and live a life with it on the sidelines. Some of the greatest generals, politicians and other historical figures were gay, but that is not why they are remembered. Their sexuality was secondary for them, and they were discreet and honest. Their skills and talents were what they are remembered for, so choose, Sean, choose.”

“But, I think about it all the time.”

“Then you’re letting it take over. Whether you think about that or girls, or stealing, or drugs or any other weakness, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is to have control over what distracts you, and not the other way around. We all live with secrets, some big some small. Mine is really odd, but this isn’t about me. What you have to do is imagine what would happen if you ‘came out’ and publicly declared your sexuality.”

“I’d be screwed.”

“Why?”

“My friends would desert me, the school would kick me out, my parents would disown me and I would be finished.”

“Oh, the understanding 1970s,” I said.

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, what alternative do you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. If you’ve been thinking about little else, you know your options better than me.”

“I have to just live a lie.”

“No, you live a life, and be careful and discreet with whom you share your secrets. Sean, you’re an intelligent bloke. You have a hell of a career ahead of you as a soldier, and I think that you’ll make a really good one. Why let something like this spoil your chances?”

“The army doesn’t accept gays.”

“Who’s gay?”

“I am.”

“Says who?”

“Me,” he said, frowning.

“All kids go through periods of uncertainty about their sexuality. Control it and take charge. Don’t let it rule your life. Identify what is important for you, and hold on to those things. As and when your urges get strong, then find the right person and live for yourself.”

He sat there, staring at the floor.

“Sean?”

He looked at me, tears in his eyes.

“I think I love you,” he said.

“I know. And I love you, as a friend, and not in the sexual sense. If it is any consolation, if I was a girl I’d go for you.”

He smiled. “No girls here.”

“That’s the problem. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“A boy friend?”

“No.”

“Then forget being gay, just be you. You never know, a girl might come along and sweep you off your feet.”

He smiled. “Like you, you mean.”

“Sean.”

“Sorry.”

Why was everything so complicated? I despaired for poor Sean, for me and Dad. This was such a mess.

“Rob?”

“What?”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Tell anyone what?”

He laughed, uneasily. “Thanks.”

“What are friends for?” I asked.

“I don’t deserve you. I’d understand it better if you hated me.”

“For goodness sakes, stop being so melodramatic. Come on, let’s get our lines done. Pretend I’m a girl and that you like girls, it’ll make it easier for you.”

So we continued and I felt like Sophie again, and he warmed to the game. I wasn’t looking forward to the brief kiss that he was due to give me.
 

*          *          *
 
We survived until half term, but it was weird seeing my grandparents turn up and be parents. Dad had often gone on about how strict his Dad had been.

I thought I knew Grandpa and that he was a teddy bear. Oh no, he wasn’t, he was very strict, and there were loads of ground rules in the home. Granny, or Mum, as I now called her, had to obey the rules too, and she was the lenient one.

None the less, they loved both me and Sally, and it was a very happy house. It was the end of October and it was very wet and windy. So we stayed in and watched TV and stuff.

The house was the same one in which they still lived in 2003, so I knew my way around. I was even in the same room that I, as Sophie, slept in when we came to stay, while Dad now slept in the large spare room. It was a pleasant room, and I could feel Dad was at home here. There was a poster of Steve McQueen on a motorcycle taken from the Great Escape movie. Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher), together with the other cast members of Star Wars, was in pride of place, and various other actresses also featured, with the minimum of clothes.

It was nice just wearing jeans and an old tee shirt, so I was able to relax, and I found my little sister, Sally, a nice kid and we got on very well.

There was just as much rubbish on the TV in 1978 as there was in 2003, only many more channels of rubbish. I liked the Sweeney and the Professionals. They were very dated and corny, but good fun. We played Monopoly and Cluedo, as the rain just fell and fell. Sally and I would talk, and I found myself talking about clothes, make up and girl things with her. I then made up my mind that I would have to tell someone, as I was very fond of my Aunt Sally, so one day, I just told her the truth. She was confused about her ‘big brother’ talking about such girly things in any case, so I took the plunge.

“Sally, I’m not Rob. I don’t know how, or why, but I am not your brother. My name is Sophie, and I was born in 1988. I am Rob’s daughter, he is my Dad. There was an accident involving a washing machine, and we were both electrocuted. I don’t know what happened to him, but I ended up here, in his body.”

She stared at me, and I explained a little more. In the end, I think that she believed me, asking me lots of questions about the future. I told her she married a man and had two children. I refused to divulge her husband’s name, as I did not want to have been responsible for making her marry the wrong guy. I mean, if she only married Keith because I had told her she would, how gross would that be?”

I then wrote a letter to be given to Sophie after Dad and I were involved in an accident involving the washing machine. She took it and hid it somewhere safe.

The time passed, and I told her always to call me Rob, otherwise we would both get into trouble. She was fine, treating it like an adventure. As half term went on, I think she thought it was all a joke.

On the last weekend of half term, some friends came over. I had to go back to school on the Sunday night. These were friends of my ‘parents’ and as always the children were expected to get on. In this case there was a boy, Rodney, aged 12 and a girl called Emma, aged 14.

It became apparent that Emma had the hots for me, as Rob, and this was not a new thing. In fact, as soon as we were alone, she came bounding up and before I could react, thrust her tongue down my throat.

I think I conducted myself with dignity and did not let the side down, but was relieved when Sally came and interrupted things. The day was rather tense, with her looking to get us by ourselves, and with me trying to always have others near me. At this rate she’d dump Dad, and I had no problem with that.

Ah. I thought. Emma Harrison, I remember now. Dad thought she was a little forward. I agreed, and was grateful when they left. I was somewhat let down by the fact that my first kiss was with a girl, but at least it wasn’t with Sean.

Or would I have preferred that?

Oh, was I getting so confused?

I just hoped that Dad wasn’t kissing all my girl friends, thereby turning me into a social leper. Then I thought of him with Matthew Kaiser, and got very frustrated. I hoped he wouldn’t find out that Matthew was the main reason that I had wanted to go to the Justin Timberlake concert. But equally, I hoped that he wouldn’t completely ruin any chance I had with him by being a prude.

I then imagined Dad, as me, in my school changing room, with naked girls all around him. Oh dear, poor old man, it’d damn near kill him, I thought, giggling at the picture.

“What is so funny?” Sally asked me.

“Nothing. It’s too rude,” I said, and then told her anyway.

She thought that was very funny, but I’m not sure she understood it. I hoped she didn’t in any case.

I went back after half term, to find nothing had changed. Not that I had expected anything to, but I really wanted this nightmare to end.

Mrs Rennie started taking us into the school theatre to start rehearsing properly. I found that I had learned my part pretty thoroughly, particularly as Sean, Mike and I spent quite a bit of time going through it together.

Our general performance was still very stilted, and the main cause seemed to be those of us selected to play girls parts.

“Come, come. You must learn to pretend to be whom you are portraying. You all look like boys and behave like boys,” she said.

“Probably because we are boys,” I muttered, making everyone laugh.

“Oh, Rob. That doesn’t help. Perhaps if you were to get into costume, that would help you focus.”

We moaned and groaned, but she was adamant, and the four of us were despatched to see Mrs Harris.

We didn’t have time for all the changes, and besides she hadn’t done all the alterations yet, so it was one costume each. I was given the yellow dress and the wig.

We were given slightly padded bras and flesh coloured tights. I was told to go and put everything on, and to wait for her to help with make up.

I dressed quickly, and it felt really strange to be Sophie again. The bra gave me the appearance of an A cup, and I felt I’d been short changed, so, with some tissues I enlarged it to a healthy looking C cup. Mrs Rennie was taking an age with the make up, so I did my own, as I had been doing to for ages. The wig was actually not too bad, so with a bit of fiddling about, I managed to get it looking okay. I even painted my fingernails and was blowing on them when she came to do me, and she gasped in surprise.

“Goodness, how on earth did you manage that?” she asked.

“I watched you,” I lied. “Is it okay?”

I knew that I looked a lot better than her attempts on the others, and she frowned.

“It’ll do for rehearsal, well done, that’s saved a lot of time.”

Do?

Hmph, I knew it was better than any of the others.

I was given a pair of cream high-heeled shoes, and had no difficulty in walking in them. I looked very like the Sophie I really was, and my reflection caused me a pang of home-sickness. I wanted to go back to where I belonged.

We walked back to the stage area, all of us feeling very uncomfortable. When the others saw me, I think they were a bit shocked. Not so much at the visual impact, although I was aware how convincing I was, but at my mannerisms and general deportment. Sophie was back, and I was actually loving it.

Sean’s face was a picture, but I knew that I would have to tread very carefully with him. He was looking confused, pleased, uncomfortable and in love, all at once.

“Right. Places everyone. We have an hour and a half, so let’s give it our best,” Mrs Rennie said, and off we went.

The time went too quickly, and I just forgot Rob and became myself, Sophie. It was so easy, and it was even pleasant having a bust back. They didn’t move or feel right, but they looked almost right, so I was able to be me.

The scene where Sean had to kiss me was treated with the usual amount of catcalls and rude noises, and yet he still managed to kiss me, and I was careful not to respond.

“We are going to have to work on that, Rob. You look as if you expect to catch some horrible disease from him.”

I looked at Sean, and he was unable to meet my eyes.

“Okay,” I said, “Sean, come here.”

Sean looked up in alarm, and frowned. I walked over to him, and grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him right on the lips, and let my tongue sneak into his mouth very briefly.

I then broke off, while he stood there stunned. The jeers and cheers echoed around the hall, but Mrs Rennie smiled in approval.

“That’s better. Now, let’s move on.”

After it was over and I had changed back into Rob, I cleaned off the makeup and my nail varnish. Jonathon, the boy who played Giselle, Sophie’s friend in the play, was doing the same.

“Rob?”

“What?”

“How do you manage to look so much like a girl?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t try. I just let the character take over.”

“I thought you were very brave to kiss Sean like that.”

“Or stupid. Mrs Rennie wanted it, so I just got it over with. It’s only a play, Jon, I don’t see why everyone is getting so hung up. It’s not as if I’m gay or anything.”

“You were the best out of everyone.”

“Thanks, you were okay, but rather nervous.”

“I feel uncomfortable in a dress.”

“So do I, I just don’t let it bother me.”

“You look as if you’re used to it.”

“Nah, I’m as uncomfortable as you are,” I lied.

We finished up and left the hall. Sean was waiting for me, which I had been sort of expecting.

The three of us walked together in silence, until Jonathon peeled off to go to his house.

“I couldn’t believe you did that,” he said.

“What?”

“You know.”

“Look, I had to, otherwise we would have fucked about all afternoon.”

“But you….”

“Yes, I know. Just don’t read anything into it, okay?” I asked.

“You looked just like a girl. The way you walked and even your voice.”

“Sean, forget it, I was trying to act, as that’s what people do in plays.”

“Yeah, but you were doing it even when you weren’t on stage.”

“It’s called method acting. You get into character and try to stay there until you change out of the costume. Look, Sean, this is bloody hard for me, so don’t make it even more complicated. I can’t cope with all that right now.”

We went into the House and up to the study.

“It’s as if something changed in you after you got hit on the head.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s daft, but you almost seem to be a different person since I knocked you out.”

“In what way?”

“I dunno. You seem warmer, and somehow more, this will sound daft, but more feminine.”

“Feminine?”

“Well, not so much feminine, but more gentle and understanding, less macho.”

I turned and looked out of the window. I did not want him to see the tears in my eyes. I had tried so hard and still failed.

“Rob, I’m sorry. I’ve upset you,” he said, making it worse. I was so close to telling him the truth, and was just about to when Mike came in, which broke the spell.

Completely oblivious that there was an atmosphere in the study, he shattered any hope I had of explaining my predicament to Sean, who still was as confused as ever, even more so now I had kissed him. And the worst of it was, I had really enjoyed the kiss.
 
 
Chapter 7. Rob's Story
 
 
“Miss Mills, if it is not too hard for you, would you like to join the rest of us?”

I was startled out of my daydream.

Mrs Hardacre could be a sarcastic cow when she wanted to. And, with me (or rather, with Sophie) she seemed to want to rather too often, like all the time. It was said that her husband stayed with her for six months and then buggered off to New Zealand with her younger sister. There was little wonder that she was such a miserable cow.

She was about fifty, and dressed in a style that went out of fashion at the time of the Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Her greying brown hair was cut short in a mannish style, and brushed forward to a straight fringe across her brow. She was thin and angular, always walking very quickly, as if in a hurry to get away from something. Her laugh, when used to make some unfortunate girl feel particularly dense, resembled a hyena’s bray. Thus, everyone called her ‘the Hyena’.

“Sorry, Mrs Hardacre.”

“So I should think. Now I know that you and Mathematics are incompatible, but as we have been on quadratic equations for several weeks, do you think you could at least attempt the problem on the board?”

I went up and took the board marker from her, as she sat on her table with folded arms and a resigned smirk on her face.

It was a reasonably complex quadratic equation, so I cast my mind back to my A level maths. Unlike Sophie, I actually loved maths, and had been very good at it.

I briefly looked at it, started breaking down the components, and worked it out coming to a satisfactory conclusion showing all workings. I handed back the marker, and went and sat down.

She stared at the board for a moment and then at me.

“Well. Was that a fluke, I wonder?”

The class laughed at her for a change, as very few girls liked her. She was a miserable woman, good at maths, but with the social graces of a tsetse fly.

She didn’t like it one little bit, and copied out an even more advanced equation onto the board.

“Come on, little Miss Know-all. Let’s see you try this one,” she said, with a discernible sneer in her voice.

I returned, took the marker from her and completed the problem in about ten seconds. I put the marker down and sat down to a round of applause. She was really quite cross now, as her favourite task was the humiliation of all her pupils.

One girl, Gail, was clapping louder than the others, so she picked on her to do the next one, and this was even more difficult. Gail went forward and made a good effort, but instead of encouraging and helping, the Hyena mocked and belittled her to such an extent that she started to cry. I stood up.

“Enough!” I said, very loudly.

She looked at me.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked.

“I don’t know when you went to teacher training college. But since when have humiliation, sarcasm and bullying been acceptable teaching methods?”

There was a gasp from the class. The ensuing silence was such as one could have heard a mouse fart.

“Just because you have been unable to sustain a relationship with a fellow human being for over thirty years, what gives you the right to demean and belittle us when you should be guiding and encouraging?

“I used to be very good at maths before you took over. Now I hate it because of you and the way you treat my friends and I. You ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself, and I personally have had enough of you.”

I was angry now, and my speech was from the heart. I was about to re-launch another scathing attack on the pasty-faced woman who was stunned into silence, when I was interrupted.

“Miss Mills, could you come to my office please?” came another voice from our left. Mrs Hardacre was as surprised as the rest of us, but it seems that the head mistress, Mrs Kimble, had been in the doorway for the last five minutes.

I walked out of the door and along the corridor with Mrs Kimble a short distance behind me. I stopped by her office door.

She opened the door and I went in.

“Sit down, Sophie.”

I sat in a seat in front of her large desk. She sat behind the desk.

“How is your father?”

“The same, he’s still in a coma.”

“I’m so sorry. It must be horrible for you?”

“It is,” I said. You don’t know the half, I thought.

“Now, what was this all about?”

I looked at Mrs Kimble and bit the bullet.

“I’m probably in enough trouble, but I don’t care. That woman is a nasty, horrible bully, who humiliates everyone in nearly every lesson. Ever since we started maths with her she has made it hell. She has a few favourites and the rest of us are just treated like shit. I’ve had enough, and I can’t do maths with her any more. There is no way I’ll be able to get my GCSE in the summer with her as my teacher,” I said, sitting back and waiting for the reaction.

“You seemed to do the equations very capably today.”

“That’s because last time I had homework, I was in tears, and my Dad spent four hours explaining it to me. That bloody woman wouldn’t even cross the road to piss on me if I was on fire.”

I think I might have gone a bit far, as I’d got a tad carried away.

Mrs Kimble stared at me, her lips trembling, so I knew I had gone over the top.

She got up from behind her desk and stood looking out of the window, with her back to me. She was shaking, which I at first thought it was in anger. Then I realised she was trying hard not to laugh.

She managed to control herself, so was expressionless when she turned back to face me.

“I do not condone that kind of language, but I understand the sentiments. I will speak to Mrs Hardacre, and see if we can come to a compromise.”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, but regardless of what you say to her, she’ll be just as foul to us, and even more sneaky. And because we’ve had this conversation, she is vindictive enough to make my life a living hell. I either have another teacher, or I drop maths.”

She looked at me long and hard, as I held her gaze. Then she smiled, a sort of resigned smile, as if to say, ‘I know what I must do, but was hoping to avoid it.’

“Very well, your maths set will have a new teacher as from next week. I have to say that this is not the first complaint against Mrs Hardacre, but she has been here for twenty years.”

“Twenty years too long,” I said, and then apologised.

“All right, Sophie. You’ve made your point, and very eloquently. I have to say that your father’s journalistic language style has obviously rubbed off on you somewhat.”

I decided to just sit in silence, enough had already been said.

“Well, go on girl, go back to the class, and ask Mrs Hardacre if she would be good enough t come and see me at the end of the class, please. I think everything has been said that needs to be said.”

I smiled and left.

I returned to the classroom, and Mrs Hardacre glared at me. If looks could kill, then someone should be measuring me for my coffin. But she didn’t frighten me, so I stared back just as hard. I took my place, and could tell that the rest of the class had been having a tough time in my absence.

The bell went and I passed my message to Mrs Hardacre.

“I suppose you’ve twisted the truth with your snivelling lies?” she said.

“No, Mrs Hardacre, I didn’t have to. It seems your reputation is already clearly imprinted on her brain, due to so many complaints being received over a twenty-year period. Anything I said simply reinforced what she already knew,” I told her, and there was a gasp from my classmates. I picked up my books and walked out.

She stood staring after me, and I was suddenly surrounded by the other girls.

“Sophie. Wait up!” shouted Gail.

I stopped and allowed her to run up to me. Three or four others also came up to us.

“What happened with Mrs Kimble?” Gail asked.

“I told her that Mrs Hardacre was a nasty vindictive bully, and I wasn’t going to do maths with her any more.”

“And what did she say?”

“She told me off for my language when I told her that the silly cow wouldn’t even cross the road to piss on me if I was on fire. Then she agreed and said that our set will have a different Maths teacher from now on.”

“Oh my God, you didn’t say that?”

I nodded. “It needed saying, why should she make so many people’s lives miserable just because she hasn’t had sex in thirty years?”

“Sophie. What did you say?” she asked, incredulously.

I repeated what I had said.

She convulsed into giggles, and the other girls all burst out in laughter. I hadn’t intended to be funny, but then my sense of humour was somewhat more cynical than theirs.

I was suddenly a very popular girl, and thought Sophie would have been proud of me.

By lunchtime, the story of what I had done had spread around the school like wildfire. Someone had seen Mrs Hardacre leaving the school in tears, and the tale of my stand against her was exaggerated beyond all recognition. Even some sixth formers looked at me with expressions that almost bordered on respect.

So many girls came up to me and congratulated me over what I had done, that I began to realise just how unpopular and obnoxious Mrs Hardacre actually was.

The rest of the day followed a by now familiar routine. I played some netball, and was actually coming to terms with who I was. In fact, for short periods, I found myself forgetting the predicament I was in, as events distracted me.

I went home on the bus, as usual, but found a familiar Vauxhall Corsa waiting at my bus stop. Matthew was standing in the rain waiting for me. As soon as the other girls saw him, they started cheering and whistling. I went very red.

I got off the bus and he came up to me with a huge soppy grin.

“Hi, I was hoping I had timed it right,” he said, kissing my cheek. There were five squished faces making kissy lips against the rear window of the bus as it drove off. I grinned at them and flicked a finger.

“Can I drive you home?”

“I only live two hundred yards up there,” I said, pointing towards my house.

“Please?”

I got in his car, shaking my head.

He made no move to start the car.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“You only saw me at the weekend.”

“I know, and I’ve been useless all week. I keep thinking about you, so I just had to see you.”

“Then you’re a very soppy boy.”

“And you are the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met,” he said, and I blushed.

“Do you want to go out for a Pizza?” he asked.

“I can’t, Matt. I have to go to the hospital to see my Dad.”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. How is he?”

I shrugged.

“No change. He is uninjured, but unconscious. The doctors don’t understand, as he is breathing and seems unharmed apart from the fact he is out to lunch.”

“It must be very hard for you?”

“It’s bloody awful, Matt. It was bad enough losing my Mum four years ago, but to have Dad just teetering on the brink. I can’t tell you how awful it is,” I said, finding myself in tears.

He reached out and took my hand.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, and he sounded mortified that he had started me off.

“It isn’t your fault, Matt. I haven’t been able to stop and cry yet. I have had to be strong for Steven, or my grandparents, or for school. But what nobody realises, is that I’m bloody close to losing it.”

He reached over with his arm, just holding me while whatever was inside me welled up and over-spilled. There was no pretence as I sobbed my heart out. He didn’t know it, but all my grief over my wife, the frustration over Sophie’s and my current predicaments, and the uncertainty of the future poured out of me, making his shoulder very wet indeed.

It was very cathartic, so after several minutes I dried up, feeling much better.

He handed a tissue to me, saying nothing. He appeared rather lost for words, and his concerned expression made me giggle. I blew my nose and smiled at him.

“Don’t look so horrified. I feel a lot better now.”

He looked a little relieved, so to make up to him, I gently kissed his cheek.

“Sophie, are you seeing anyone, I mean, have you got a boyfriend at the moment?”

I smiled and nodded, so he looked completely crestfallen.

“Oh,” he said.

“Yup, he is quite a nice boy, but he has an annoying habit of misunderstanding me.”

He frowned, looking so miserable, I felt sorry for being a bitch.

“Who is he?” he asked.

“You. You daft brush. Only if you want, that is.”

His smile lit up the car, and before I could react, he was crushing the wind out of me and we were kissing, properly, this time.

When I came up for air, he was a completely different person. So animated and cheerful, I could hardly believe it. He must have been working up to try to ask me all week. Poor love.

“Matt, take me home please, they’ll be getting worried,” I said, so he drove me the short distance to my house.

“Do you want to come in, it is pretty chaotic?”

He looked at the house,and then at me.

“I won’t thanks, I have to get back. I’ll call you later. Can I have your mobile number?”

I gave him the number, and he kissed me again.

“Bye. And thanks,” he said. I watched him drive off. I then remembered who I really was. I had forgotten for several minutes, as I had just enjoyed being Sophie.

I went in, to find Granny being bossy and getting supper ready. Aunt Sally came over, so after supper I changed into jeans and a tee shirt and put on some makeup. We had some time together as she drove me to the hospital, and in a way I didn’t like being reminded who I really was. We sat by the figure in the bed. For the first time, I began to feel totally detached from him. It dawned on me that I was almost content being Sophie, and I was beginning to look forward to each new day.

Sally sat next to me, leafing through a magazine, as I sat and did some homework. The bleeps and other sounds from the monitors were quite reassuring, and it was a very peaceful place. Every now and again, a nurse would come in to check things, and then simply smile at me and leave again. I was here every day, so they were used to seeing me doing my homework by my Dad’s bed.

“I can’t bear this. I’m going for a walk. Do you want a drink?” Sally asked.

“No thanks, I’m fine.”

She disappeared, as she usually did, and I looked at the sleeping figure of what used to be me.

“I hope you are enjoying this,” I said, and then jumped when there was a cough behind me.

I spun round and saw Matt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, still quite shaken by surprise.

“I missed you,” he said, as if it explained everything.

“Matt, you only saw me a couple of hours ago.”

“I know, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You really are a sad Muppet,” I said, standing up.

He looked at my work, all strewn across the bed.

“Homework?”

“Yeah, I can at least get peace and quiet here, or at least, I used to be able to.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

I kissed his cheek.

“It’s okay, it’s nice of you to come.”

We sat together, and he tried helping me with some of my work, for which I was grateful.

Sally returned and saw us. Her eyebrows shot up and I just grinned.

“Aunty Sally, this is my friend Matthew. Matt, this is my Aunt Sally,” I said, and they shook hands. Sally’s expression of horror was brilliant, so I almost got the giggles.

“How much longer do you want to be?” Sally asked. I looked at the amount of homework I had yet to do, and roughly calculated how long it would take me.

“An hour?” I said, and she frowned.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long. I have a call coming in that I have to deal with.”

“I’ll take her home,” offered Matthew.

“Good, then that’s settled, you go, Aunt Sally, and Matthew will take me home,” I said.

She opened her mouth to protest, and then thought better of it. I smiled, as there were certain benefits at being the elder sibling, even if I didn’t actually look like her older brother.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” she said to me. Sister to brother.

“Perfectly, thanks. I will see you tomorrow,” I said, so she left, shaking her head.

Matthew stared at the unconscious figure for a few moments.

“He doesn’t look too bad.”

“He isn’t. Not physically anyway. It’s his brain. It’s as if he has gone on holiday,” I explained.

“Weird.”

“Yup,” I said, getting down to my homework.

“Sophie?”

“What?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Perhaps, but I don’t really know. Why?”

“I think I love you,” he said, all bashful.

“That’s nice,” I said.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“I know. I don’t mean to sound callous, but we have only seen each other three times. Maybe I’m different to you, or maybe I have a lot happening in my life. What can I say? I think you’re cute, good looking, you make me laugh and I like being with you. If that’s being in love, then maybe I am too, but I think it has to go a little deeper than that. Maybe if we get to know each other a bit better, then that will come.”

He seemed to be thinking about that, and then he grinned.

“You like being with me?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, smiling at the ridiculous situation I found myself.

He sat next to me until I finished my homework. He said nothing, but I did like him being there. Finally, the work finished, I put everything away in my bags.

“You didn’t seem to have any trouble with your physics.”

“No, I’m just brilliant,” I said, grinning.

“I know,” he said, making me blush.

“I was joking,” I said.

“I wasn’t.”

I smiled, as he was just so sweet.

He even carried my bag out to his car. He drove me home very slowly, as if to prolong our time together. He parked outside the house and switched the engine off.

“Thanks, Matt,” I said, and he smiled.

“I love you,” he said.

“So you said.”

“Can we go out on Friday or Saturday evening?”

“I’d like to.”

“What shall we do?”

“I don’t know. A movie?”

“Okay, which one?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Shall I pick you up?”

“Which day?”

“Both?”

I laughed. “Okay, pick me up at seven,” I said.

He got out as I did and stood beside me.

“May I kiss you?”

“Who asks?”

“I do,” he said, and then we were locked in a tight embrace, and kissing.

I let what was Sophie in me take over and it was wonderful. He held me firmly and yet gently, so I caressed his face and shoulders. Eventually, I broke off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, then?” I said, leaving him looking after me.

I breezed in and went straight up to my room. I had a nice hot bath and just enjoyed feeling female. I loved the way Matthew made me feel when he kissed me, and for the first time, let my fingers explore my vagina. I brought myself to orgasm whilst lying in the bath thinking of Matthew. Nothing prepared me for the sensations I experienced, and eventually I had to stop, as I had lost count of the amount of times I had climaxed.

The frightening thing was that had Matthew walked in at that moment, I would have made love to him, quite happily and oblivious to any risk of pregnancy. I began to appreciate the power of sex. It was little wonder that there were so many single mothers.

Just before I fell asleep, I remembered that I was once called Rob.
 
 
Chapter 8. Sophie's Story
 
 
The ball was high, and spinning. I was running back, keeping my eye on it, very conscious of the enemy who were pounding up the pitch towards me. We were four points down with a few minutes to play, and this was one of the most important matches of the season.

Haileybury was a much bigger school, with nearly 900 boys. Every year it was a matter of fierce pride to beat them, or at least give them a tough game. This year it was the closest ever, and still we had yet to pull ahead. I was full back in the Colts, and I had more bruises on me than ever. I was covered in mud and looked totally bedraggled. I had tacked more in this match than I had ever tackled before, and I was getting very good at kicking for touch when in defence.

The rain was falling very hard, and the dark blue shirts of the enemy looked almost black. The ball was wet and the ground was so soft that it was very slippery.

I watched the ball right into my hands, side stepping the boy who had originally kicked it. I then pretended to kick it, causing the other opponents that were just yards away, to slither to a stop. I side-stepped them and started to run for the enemy try line. I had no real intention to reach it, but I had some strange wind of fate behind me that day.

We were on their pitch in front of their school, and fifty of their boys were there on the touchline cheering on the enemy. Only Mr Green was there for us, shouting himself purple in the face.

I sold a dummy to their full back, and before I realised it I dived over the line, as three large boys attempted to sever my spinal cord and remove all my limbs.

I lay exhausted, battered, yet as I heard the whistle, I felt the most amazing feeling of euphoria and triumph.

I stood up, still holding the ball. Some grudging applause was being given from the touchline, and I thought Mr Green was going to have an apoplexy.

I ran back, as our Captain, Mel Lewis, clapped me on the back.

“Go on Rob, Take the kick yourself, you deserve it.”

I was aghast. I was no good at kicking.

But such was my euphoria, that I dug the hole with my heel, and placed the ball in the hole.

I then took several paces back, and on a whim, because I thought Johnny Wilkinson looked sexy, took three steps to my left. I had never tried to hook the ball with my instep, and thought, what the hell? There is a first time for everything.

I ran and kicked, aware of the enemy charging at me.

The ball rose and sailed between the posts, and I leaped for joy.

I had done it.

The referee blew his whistle for full time. We had won!

I disappeared under my cheering team-mates, as they literally hoisted me in the air and carried me to the touchline, where we were clapped from the pitch by out honourable opponents, so we did the same for them.

The mood in the changing room was indescribable. If we had won the world cup, we could not have been more ecstatic. It was brilliant, and as I finished getting dressed, I realised that I had completely forgotten that I was really Sophie for the last couple of hours.

This didn’t worry me a lot, so I went to tea with my friends without a care in the world. Mr Green came over to us, warmly congratulating us all. To me he was particularly effusive with his praise.

“That match has just secured you a place in the first game next season,” he said. “I’m recommending for you to be awarded your Colts colours too.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning.

“Seriously, Rob, you played brilliantly. You have developed into a first class full back. That knock on your head seems to have done your no harm at all,” he said.

We travelled back by coach, and I learned all the rudest rugby songs that day. When we arrived back, our victory was common knowledge, and as the firsts had been beaten at home by Haileybury firsts, we were the only ones to have won.

For the next week, I felt as if I was walking on air. My reputation in the school took on a new height, and even the sixth formers treated me with respect. Rugby heroes were the highest form of hero in the school culture, and even the head master drew attention to or victory in the assembly in chapel on Friday morning.

November was nearly over and the nights were drawing in. I was up to scratch with all my scholastic subjects, and now I was a hero on the sports field too. The play was going well, as I revelled in my part as Sophie.

I would don the dress every time, with makeup and all that went with it. Sean was having a hard time coming to terms with his sexuality.

One evening in the study, whilst Mike was at swimming, he confided his latest confusions.

“Rob?” he said, and my heart sank on hearing his tone of voice.

“Yes?”

“Can I bounce something off you?”

“Go on then,” I said, sighing in resignation.

“You know that I thought I was gay?”

“Yes Sean.”

“Well, I don’t think I am.”

“Good,” I said, hoping that was it.

It wasn’t.

“No, I realised that actually I was confused because I had never been attracted by a girl before.”

“Oh?” I said.

“Well, now I have been attracted by a girl, I realise that it is so much better than being attracted by a boy.”

“I am pleased for you. Really. So, who is she?” I asked, knowing yet fearing what the answer was going to be.

“It’s Sophie,” he said, and my heart sank. I had been right.

“Sean?”

“Yes?”

“Sophie isn’t real.”

“She is to me.”

“Sean, you’re an ass. I’m Sophie, and Sophie is me. It’s only a play, remember? We’re acting. That’s all.”

He shook his head.

“To you, maybe, but Sophie is real to me. Every time she appears, I tell myself that she is really Rob in a dress and makeup, and yet, every time, she proves me wrong. Something happens, and she becomes real. It’s like magic or something, and I know that I no longer fancy boys, I dream about Sophie every day, every night, and any other time I can.

“She’s a real girl to me, with real breasts and a narrow waist. She has a vagina, and could have my child, eventually. She is soft and feminine, and her smile lights up my life, while her laughter is a tonic for me. She has cured me.”

I sat there, stunned by his openness, honesty and utter stupidity. Yet there was something in what he said. I felt different when I was Sophie. I felt that I was me again, the real me, Sophie - The girl who had yet to be born, and who was yet to be a twinkle in Rob’s eye. It wasn’t anything to do with willies or vaginas, but everything to do with one’s spirit. No matter what body I had, my spirit was a girl, and that was the spirit that Sean had glimpsed.

On the other hand, the physical was important, as whenever I was dressed and ‘playing’ the boy part, any thoughts of a romantic entanglement with Sean was less and less attractive. Oh, when I’d first become Rob, there had been the occasional silly thought, but as I’d become Rob for longer, those thoughts had gone away.

When I was Sophie, it was as if that twinkle came to life, in a brief and limited spell whilst the play was acted out.

“You know that Sophie and you will never become a reality?”

“I know that.”

“There are other girls.”

“I know that too.”

“Oh Sean, how can I help you?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Rob, I honestly don’t know. But I do know that Sophie is real.”

“She is. I can at least allow you that.”

He smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Sean, she wants you to find someone to love properly.”

“I know,” he said, and smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“She is so much better than all the others.”

“Maybe, but she is spoken for.”

“I know,” he said, rather sadly.

“Look, whenever Sophie is here, and she will be gone by the end of term, she wants you to love her and she might even love you back,” I said, and then wondered what the hell I was doing.

“Then I’ll be happy.”

“Now, shut up and let me finish my essay,” I said, and he looked far more contented.

We had another rehearsal on the following day, and Sophie was there once more. As soon as I walked in through the door, Sean was by my side.

“Hi Sophie. I’ve missed you.”

“Hi Sean, me too. Are you okay?” I said, feeling a real fool, yet it seemed so natural in a really daft way.

The rehearsal started, and we just left things flow. When others were doing their lines, we sat quietly together. To everyone else, there was no change, but for us, it was very different.

I felt something for him, but not as Rob for Sean. This was me, as Sophie, and as Sophie I returned his love. We talked about silly little things, and I longed to hold him and to kiss him.

We got our chance when the love scene arrived. We said our lines, without having to look at the books, and then melted into each other’s arms, and the kiss, although brief, was so real and wonderful, that we both felt it at the same moment. Despite the usual chorus of jeers and kissing noises, it was a special moment, and it took Sean by surprise. He hadn’t expected Sophie to respond like that, and his expression of surprise and joy was a wonder to behold. It was only a glimpse, but I saw it, and as Sophie, I had smiled.

The magic lasted until she disappeared and Sophie was once more hung on a hanger until the next time. Sean never confused Rob with Sophie, and neither did I. We both talked about Sophie in the third person, and it got so silly that he would tell me about what he and she had done. He would recount to me the conversation that he had had with her. It was as if Rob was not involved at all.

I wondered what this was doing for either of our sanities, particularly his.

But he seemed to be so much more relaxed and confident. It was as if all his inner demons had been exorcised, and he was now free to really discover his destiny. The trick would be to allow him to say goodbye to Sophie and then move on. It could destroy him if I wasn’t careful.

The character of Sophie kept me sane. Because, without her, I was slowly becoming Rob in every way. I had acclimatised to the school the culture the discipline, the cadets and the sport. Surprisingly, I actually looked forward to playing rugby, and knew that I had skills. Days went past that, without the Sophie from the play, I would have never thought about Sophie from the future. Rob was there all the time, and I needed something to keep reminding me of where I came from and to where I wanted to return.

I was awarded my Colts colours and felt proud and pleased. The coach of the first XV, Mr McLean, even came up to me in the courtyard one morning.

“Ah, Mills. I’ve heard good things about you. I hope you are ready for the first game next season, as I need a reliable full back?”

“Yes sir, looking forward to it,” I said, hoping that Dad would deliver.

“Jolly good. Keep up the good work,” he said, and off he went.
 

*          *          *
 
The day of the dress rehearsal arrived, and the sets were all made and everything was as ready as it could be.

We had two performances, the Friday night in front of the school, and the Saturday afternoon in front of parents. The senior play was on the following week, and they had three performances, the school, and then two performances for guests and parents.

On the Saturday after our second performance, there was the Christmas Ball for the fifth and sixth forms. Girls were brought over from our sister school, St Mary’s. There was always strict supervision, but it was still a rare occasion to mix with members of the opposite sex.

A plan began to hatch in my head, and I felt very pleased with myself, but to be successful, I had to be very lucky and very quick.

The dress rehearsal went without a hitch, apart from a few lost cues and the odd forgotten line. Mrs Rennie felt we were ready. I was very nervous, but Sean was really excited, as he was going be able to kiss Sophie several times over the next two days.

I had approached Mrs Rennie some weeks previously, and made a couple of requests. She seemed quite surprised, yet I said that it would give the play more realism, and would be then available for all the future plays the school would produce. To my surprise she agreed, and on the day of the first performance, she produced a first class blonde wig, to my exact specifications, and the piece de resistance, a pair of silicone breast forms.

When changing into Sophie, I really took trouble over my make up and even varnished my fingernails and toenails. I had shaved all excess body hair, and knew that I looked the part. The wig was just like my own hair, and as I slipped on the first dress for the first scene, I felt completely like me for the first time in ages.

I walked out to the back stage area, there was a sudden hush. Sean’s jaw dropped, so I slowly and deliberately walked right up to him.

“Hi Sean, close your mouth, Honey, otherwise you will start to drool,” I said very quietly.

“Sophie?” he said.

“Yup. Me.”

“You look wonderful,” he said.

I looked at him from under my eyelashes.

“Just for you, babe,” I said, and he flushed redder than a beetroot.

“Places everyone, five minutes,” said Mrs Rennie.

The curtain parted and the play started, for an hour and a half, Sophie was real for both me and for Sean. The kisses were brief but sizzling. And the jeers and catcalls went unheeded.

The performance was a great success, but Sophie disappeared quickly at the end.

I found it so hard, but I forced myself back to being Rob. What I was going to do after the play was over I just hated to think.

The next day, Sean was wound up like a poison pup. He kept asking me whether Sophie would go to the Christmas Ball with him.

“Sean, how would I know, you will have to ask her,” I said, and the fool simply nodded, walking off.

The Ball was due to start at eight pm. The play was due to end at seven thirty, which theoretically gave us enough time to change and get to the ball. I had slightly different plans. One day, whilst I was pottering in the wardrobe department, I found a ‘little black number’. It was a stunning black dress with shoulder straps, and very tight fitting. I had tried it on, and it fitted beautifully. Mrs Rennie had told me that periodically we had clothing donated on the death of family members of old boys, and some were extremely rich. Thus, some of the ladies’ clothes were the top names of their day.

I had, therefore, acquired the loan of this dress, without anyone’s knowledge. I intended to go with Sean to the Ball, and see him introduced to a real girl and then take my leave.

There were a hundred things that could go wrong, but I hoped and prayed for the same wind of fate that took me over that try line in the match against Haileybury.

I was early to the backstage area, so was already changed and ready before most of the others. While they were getting changed, I prepared my escape route from the Big Hall, where the ball was to be held. I had to get out, change from Sophie back into Rob, and return without being discovered. The theatre would be shut, so I had to leave some clothing in a location where I was guaranteed to be able to change in peace. I had found that the RAF hut was easy to get into, so by leaving a window latch undone, I knew exactly where I could go.

It was weird walking about the school as a girl, but as there were many parents and other guests about, no one thought anything odd about it. In fact, several boys gaped at me, and I was whistled at twice. I dropped my bag of clothes through the RAF hut window, and returned to the theatre.

Sean’s eyes lit up as soon as I walked in, and he rushed over to me.

“Sophie, I was worried about you. Look, is there any way you could come to the Ball with me?” he said, almost so quickly that he tied his tongue in his haste to ask me.

“Sean, I have to leave, but I promise I’ll have at least one dance with you. On one condition.”

“Condition? What condition?” asked Sean, uncertainly.

“Before I go, I want to introduce you to a girl, and I want you to treat her as well as you do me,” I said.

He frowned.

“Look Sean, I’m going to go away, and I can’t come back, but I want you to be happy, so please, for me?”

“For you, yes. I’ll do it for you,” he said, so I kissed his cheek.

The play was even better this time. Not one line went astray, and it went very slickly. I forgot Rob completely and became Sophie right down to my core, and I was more tactile towards Sean than ever before.

Our love scenes were as passionate as the circumstances allowed, and at the end, the applause said it all. When Sean and I stepped forward to take our bows, the applause grew to a crescendo. I curtseyed really low, and the applause grew even more. I blew kisses to everyone, and then Sean came on carrying a bouquet of roses for me.

I almost burst into tears, but managed to deal with it theatrically, which got a laugh from the audience.

Then the curtain fell, and everyone started to change. I told Sean that I would meet him by the main door of Big Hall. I then disappeared into the loo, and changed into my little black dress. I took off the theatrical make up, and put on lighter make up, but in such a way to change my facial appearance. I had kept my eye makeup quite low key on the stage, but by using black mascara and heavy eyeliner, I created an older and sexier model, one that I felt very pleased with.

I slipped out and made it to the main door just as everyone was going in. Sean was waiting by the steps, and jumped when I touched his arm.

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” I said, and he stared at me.

“My God, you look beautiful. You’ve changed your eyes.”

“Yup, I don’t want to be recognised.”

He smiled, “You won’t be, you’re so different,” he said, holding out his arm. I took it and he led me up the stairs.

There was a disco going, but only a few people were dancing. For the most part there were two distinct groups of self-conscious males and females at either end of the hall.

I pulled Sean onto the floor and we danced, oblivious to everyone else. I gave him two dances, and then kissed him on the cheek. I had been looking at all the girls and had spotted one tall girl who was very pretty, but seemed to behave as if she were overly conscious of her height.

I held Sean’s hand and led him over to her.

“Hi, I’m Sophie,” I said.

She frowned, as most of the girls were from St. Mary’s and only a few were local girls on special invitation. She didn’t recognise me, so must have concluded that I was either the daughter of a staff member, or a local girl.

“I’m Angela,” she said.

“Look Angela, this is Sean, and I need you to do me a big favour. I have to go, and I’d like you to look after him for a bit. You see I can’t come back, and he is such a lummox that he needs taking care of. Any chance you could look after him for a couple of dances?”

“When are you coming back?” she asked, looking up at him.

“I’m not. Ever,” I said, turning and kissing him one last time. I then walked straight out. I didn’t turn back, as I did not want Sean to see me cry. I ran to the RAF hut, and twenty minutes later back as Rob Mills walked into the Hall, and casually glanced at Sean, who was dancing with the tall girl called Angela.

“Hey, Rob, where have you been?” asked Mike.

“I had to change after the play, it took me ages getting all the makeup off.”

“For a moment I thought you had come as Sophie. Sean was dancing with a girl who looked rather like you did. I think she was a bit older, though,” he said, scanning the crowd.

“There’s Sean, and he is with a taller girl now, where the hell has the other girl gone?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s get a drink,” I said and we went and got some non-alcoholic punch.

I was torn as I watched Sean. Part of me ached to be with him, but mostly I was pleased for him. Mike saw a girl he knew, and asked her to dance, so I was watching them when a girl came over to me.

She was a few inches shorter than I, but was very pretty, with long auburn hair. She had on a pale blue dress and had a lovely smile. There was something familiar about her.

“Hi. You’re the boy who played the girl in the play, aren’t you?”

I blushed. “Afraid so,” I said.

“I’m Anna Martin, my Dad is the Chemistry teacher. I watched the play. You were very good. I thought you were a real girl until someone told me you weren’t.”

“I don’t know whether to be pleased or not,” I said, smiling. I remembered seeing her around the school, and only knew that she was the daughter of one of the teachers.

“Was it hard?”

“Pretending to be a girl? Yes, but after I got used to it, it was quite fun. The problem with playing girls’ parts here is that everyone calls you names and takes the piss.”

She giggled. “Why, there’s nothing strange with you, is there?” she asked.

“Nothing, why?”

“I just wondered, you might not like girls, or something.”

I got the message and asked her to dance.

I felt very self-conscious, but actually Anna was a very nice girl. She was just fifteen, and she told me that she had seen me play rugby and had wanted to find out whom I was. We had a good time, staying together even when the music slowed. We even had a little smooch.

Sean was locked in quite a passionate embrace with Angela, and I was so happy for him, so I was finally able to relax. Dad would be happy to know that I had cured him. I grinned, and found myself kissing Anna. This experience was really screwing me up, let alone Sean.
 
 
Chapter 9. Rob's Story
 
 
My routine continued unaltered into December, and Matt became a semi-permanent feature of my life. So much so, that he took over taking me to hospital to see Dad. Sally found it really hilarious, and would tease me unmercifully about it. I was actually fine, as Sophie and I had merged, so I was perfectly content with my sexuality.

Matthew was very sweet, but never once suggested anything improper should take place. In fact, if anything, I was more aggressively sexual than he was. I really enjoyed the feelings I experienced, and intended to make the most of it, as I hoped that on Christmas Eve, I would be me again.

The day of the Justin Timberlake concert arrived, so I went over to Jenny’s house. Caroline and another couple of girls from their year were there. Although the youngest, I didn’t look it. I had deliberately dressed for the time of year, with a denim skirt and thick tights. I also wore a fluffy pullover and a leather jacket.

The mini-bus collected us, so I sat next to Matthew all the way up. He slung a proprietary arm across my shoulders and I snuggled close to him. He made me feel safe, and I loved the tingle I experienced whenever he touched me. I was Sophie more than ever, and Rob was a distant memory. I had no qualms and no regrets, but I knew that my time was limited, but just tried not to think about it too much.

It took us a couple hours to get there, and then once we were dropped off, we had to queue to get in. The atmosphere was amazing, and I just soaked it up. I had been to a couple of concerts in the early 1980s, but nothing as extravagant as this.

Justin was brilliant. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and even more so with Matthew there. We sang all the way home, when we weren’t actually kissing. I stayed what was left of the night with Jenny, and we slept long into Sunday morning.

I felt very ashamed of myself for not wanting Sophie to go to the concert, and I re-examined my attitudes and values. Matthew behaved like a true gentleman, if anything, I had been the tart. Even so, both of us were responsible, and nothing happened to cause any concern at all. I almost wished that I had longer as I wanted to experience sex as a girl. But, on the other hand, I did not want to take that first joy away from my daughter.

I got home just before lunch, and Granny gave me a lecture about boys. I stood, smiling and nodding, while Steven grinned at me, making faces behind his grandmother’s back. After lunch, we all trooped off to the hospital and sat around the bed. It was pretty futile, but I felt it was our duty.

We returned around teatime, and I could tell that there was something on my grandparents’ minds. As we sat round the sitting room, Granny started the conversation I had been dreading.

“Sophie dear. We really must consider the future. We can’t stay here indefinitely, and we have to accept that your father may never come back to us. Even if he does come round, he may never be the same person that he once was.”

That was one certainty, I thought.

“So, what are you saying?” I asked.

“Well, we thought we might send you two to a boarding school, and then you could stay with us in the holidays. We must really think about going home soon.”

“But I have all my friends at school, and I’m doing so well. I have my GCSEs in the summer, so I really don’t want to have to move schools.”

“I don’t mind, I hate my school. Besides Sophie only wants to stay because of her boyfriend,” said Steven.

“Well, we do accept that your studies are important, so we will not take you out until the end of the school year, but certainly if your father is not back with us by the new year, we may have to start thinking about such things,” Grandpa said.

“Dad will be all right, I just know it,” I said, and saw the glance that my grandparents exchanged between themselves.

Frustrated, I ran up to my room and shut the door. I was not in the mood to have an argument or a discussion with them at this moment in time. It dawned on me that the discussion not withstanding, my monthly had arrived, to make me more moody than usual.

I rang up Matthew and cried down the phone to him for ages. He was so sweet, and even offered his home so that I could stay near school. I was sorely tempted, but knew that I only had two weeks left now.

The thought made me cry even more, and I had now reached the stage that I almost did not want to return to being Rob. I was Sophie. I loved being her, as the thought of having a life all over again was very attractive.

But then I thought of my dear daughter and cried again. I was being selfish, as I had already had one chance, and this was her time. Matthew was clearly at a loss and asked if I wanted him to come over.

“No, but thanks. I’m a moody bitch at the moment, so you’re better off there.”

“I don’t mind, as long as you aren’t angry with me,” he said.

“Oh, you’re a sweetie, no, I’m not angry with you. It’s everything else. One day I may be able to tell you all my troubles and we can laugh about it. But for the moment, I am just exceedingly pissed off.”

We chatted for some time and I felt better, so I told him that he had cheered me up.

“That’s okay, I just love to hear your voice. I love you Sophie.”

“Oh, Matt, I think I love you too.”

“You think?”

“Yes, I’ve never felt this way about a boy before, so I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Okay, I can live with that,” he said, and I heard him chuckle. I loved his laugh.

“I love your laugh,” I said.

“I love everything about you.”

“Not everything,” I said, but he could never understand about which I was referring.

“Okay, maybe not that, but everything else.”

We laughed and I hung up feeling much better.

School was dreary as the end of term loomed, but not having Mrs Hardacre was an added bonus at an otherwise dreary time. The new maths teacher was Miss Stoddart, who was brilliant. For a start, she was only twenty-five and good fun. Maths suddenly took on a new meaning, and my results picked up noticeably.

In fact, the maths results across the school picked up, and Mrs Hardacre resigned. She had been on extended sick leave, for ‘nervous stress’. I did not feel one single pang of guilt when given the news by the headmistress at morning assembly one week from the end of term.

There was the usual Christmas variety concert organised. Everyone was asked to try to put an act together, so Caroline, Jenny and I had been practicing a couple of numbers with choreographed steps. We called ourselves, “Boots”, and we memorised two songs by Steps.

We all bought black mini skirts and long black boots with high heels, and with lacy black tops, we thought we looked pretty good. The school always invited our male counterpart, Dr Challoner’s boys’ school, and together we ran a combined concert for charity.

We rehearsed for ages, but come the night were very nervous. Particularly when we saw the full auditorium, and so many boys in the audience. But we went on, and waited to do our number. We had got our moves just right, so we hoped we could remember all our words.

We stood with our backs to the audience, in darkness, so when the curtain went back, we turned as the spots hit us one at a time. I was the last to turn, and I could see nothing because of the bright light in my eyes.

We were not prepared for the reaction, as when the lights hit us, and the first bars of the first song started, there was a roar from the male members of the audience.

From that moment on, we couldn’t lose, and the euphoria hit us and replaced the nerves. We just went for it, even managing an encore of a third song we had originally selected and later rejected.

The applause went on for ages, so we came off highly euphoric and delighted with our performance, which was probably mediocre, but sufficiently raunchy to appeal to the testosterone laden youths who appreciated sexy girls.

We were watching the next act from the side, when I felt some very familiar arms encircle me from behind.

“Hi Matt,” I said, without turning round.

“You were amazing,” he told me.

“I didn’t realise you were coming.”

“It was a surprise. I’m glad I did.”

“Oh yes, why is that?”

“Because you’re the sexiest girl I have ever seen, and I was so proud of you.”

I kissed him, so he gave me a big cuddle.

“Are you going away for Christmas?” he asked.

“What, with my Dad in hospital?”

“Oh, I keep forgetting, you seem to be able to cope so well, you’re so brave.”

“Brave, be damned, I have no choice. I just have to keep going,” I admitted.

“I’m going down to Devon to stay with my Mum’s parents. I will be back after Christmas. Can we get together then?” he asked.

“Of course, if you want to, that is?” I said, and then realised that if what Sally had said was right, then I was not going to be around. Or, not as Sophie, that is.

“You know I want to. I just wish we were older and I would propose to you.”

“You daft brush, what are you like?” I said, but I was flattered and pleased.

“I love you so much.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, and we were caught in mid-kiss by Mrs Kimble.

“Sophie, wrong time, wrong place. There’s a time and a place for these things. And this isn’t it.”

I went red and grinned, but Matthew went even redder.

Matthew and I stood together and watched the rest of the show, but to be honest we just enjoyed being together.

“So, when are you off down to Devon?” I asked.

“On about the 23^rd, we will be back for New Year. Do you want to do something for New Year?”

“I’d love to. Call me.”

“Sophie, I’ll call you every day.”

“As usual,” I said, and he laughed.

“Matt?”

“What?”

“I dreamed that my Dad came round on Christmas Eve, so pray for us then. It may just be wishful thinking, but I’d love to have him back for Christmas.”

“Sure. Would you like me to come back early?”

“You’d do that?”

“Sophie, I’d do anything for you.”

I smiled, had a quick look round and then kissed him again.

“No, you stay with your family. You never know, next Christmas we may be together.”

“Really? You’d spend Christmas with me?”

“Why not?”

“No reason, I’d really like that.”

“Me too, but hey, next Christmas we may not be going out together.”

“Sophie, there is no way that I would ever let you go.”

“Matt, you are sweet, but don’t get too possessive. You’re my first boyfriend, so who knows, you may be my last too, so keep an open mind.”

He looked rather downcast, so I took his hand.

“Matt, don’t be miserable, if we end up getting married, I would be happy, but I need to live and experience life. You’re my first boy, and no one can ever take that away. If you end up as the final boy too, then that would be okay, but I’m three years younger than you, so you may meet someone else at university or something. I want you to know that I have no hold on you.”

“You have no hold on me, other than what I have chosen to put on myself. You’re my dream girl, and I’m glad to be yours for however long things work out.”

“Dream girl? You soppy sod. Careful, because dreams turn into nightmares.”

“You could never be a nightmare.”

“What about the other week when I was on?”

“Okay, maybe occasionally a bit of a nightmare,” he said, grinning.

The concert ended, so we all took to the stage to take a final curtain, and the three of us in ‘Boots’ got the biggest ovation. As I looked down at the sea of faces, and saw Matthew smiling at me, I felt really torn. So much of me was now Sophie that it was really hard coming to terms with going back to being Rob.

I wondered how Sophie was getting on. As I left the stage and got changed, I tried to think back to that time when things were hazy for me. It was all very dim, and I gave up. I vaguely remembered getting my Colts colours, the play and someone called Anna, whom I met at the Christmas Ball. Sean featured somewhere but I could not remember how or why.

The play.

Try as I could, I could not remember anything about it. Not one line, nothing. I only remembered that I played the part of a girl and her name had been Sophie, and that was it.

I changed into my home clothes, jeans and a pullover, and found my faithful Matthew waiting to give me a lift home. I would miss him. I sat quite quiet on the journey from School to my house, and Matthew seemed loath to break the silence. There were only a few days left of term, and then the holidays were upon us. Not only were we to be separated, but I was possibly going to lose being Sophie forever.

When we arrived, I invited Matthew in. Granny thought he was a ‘very nice boy’, while Grandpa kept winking at me. He joined us in a hot chocolate and some of Granny’s freshly made cake.

“Did you go and see Dad today?” I asked.

“Yes dear. The doctor says that there was a blip this morning.”

“A blip?”

“Yes, apparently his brain wave monitor recorded some activity, so they are hoping that he is beginning to come out of his coma.”

I was excited, and yet in a strange way disappointed. The thought of having Sophie back won through, and I felt contentment for the time I had had, and indeed how I had conducted myself.

I gave Matthew a kiss goodbye, and he drove away.
 

*          *          *
 
The next day saw the three of us from Boots as school heroines. Apparently, so many boys wanted to know who we were, that everyone got fed up. The concert raised a record-breaking  £5,000, and the heads of both schools were delighted.

We managed to struggle through the anti-climactic last few days of a very long term, and then the end was upon us. We had the Carol service as a finale, and afterwards I said a rather emotional goodbye to lots of girls, whom I knew I would never see again in this guise, so it was rather harrowing. I couldn’t allow myself to get too emotional, and had to pretend that everything was normal. It really was very hard.

I arrived home feeling rather subdued. We had a quiet supper, and both grandparents seemed to understand I just wanted to be alone. I lay on my bed, or rather Sophie’s bed, and stared at the ceiling.

I had enjoyed my time, and had no regrets. I hoped I had not mucked up her life for her, and that the experiences I had gone through would be left for her as memories.

I felt very sorry for her, as she had no way of knowing that the time was coming to an end. I hoped she enjoyed being me as much as I enjoyed being her. I felt that I now understood her more than any other father in the world.

I went to sleep, knowing that in four days, things would be back to normal.
 
 
Chapter 10. Sophie's Story
 
 
Anna Martin left me a note every day after the Ball, and we met surreptitiously on three occasions. She was a very nice girl, to whom I felt quite attracted. We were relaxed and got on very well. We laughed at the same things, and just enjoyed each other’s company. On the second meeting, behind the school chapel, we had a sneaky kiss and a cuddle.

I had no qualms about it and found myself aroused. I gave her breast a stroke, and enjoyed the response from her. We became very close and rather tactile. I enjoyed walking with her and holding her hand. I hoped that Dad wouldn’t mind.

We even managed to sit together for the first performance of the senior play, and held hands where no one could see.

“She’s not as good as you,” she said, indicating the leading ‘lady’ in the play.

“Ah, talent such as mine is a rare commodity.”

She giggled, giving my hand a squeeze.

We had one more meeting before the end of term, and it was rather emotional.

A school up in the north of England had lost a senior housemaster in a road accident, and her father had been selected to replace him. Anna was being moved with her family, so had to start at a new school and everything.

“Write to me, Rob,” she pleaded.

“Of course,” I said, fully intending to.

We had a long hug and a kiss, then she left and I never saw her again. The end of term was upon us, so my ‘parents’ arrived and took me home. I arrived back, and was obviously so much more Rob than at half term, Sally treated me as if it had all been a joke.

Sean was a different boy. He spent all his money on the telephone in the main corridor. He spoke to Angela every evening for about half an hour, and was so cheerful that it got up everyone’s nose.

I was packing my stuff when Sean popped his grinning face around the door.

“Hi Rob. Got a mo?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

He sat on my bed and looked at me.

“I just want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me. I think I went a little loopy for a while. Only, after Sophie introduced me to Angela, I realised exactly how much she must have hurt by doing that.”

“Sean, …” I started to say, and he held up a hand.

“I know what you are going to say, but hear me out. I don’t know how or why, but Sophie was a real girl. I think even you know that. She wasn’t the same person as you, and I should know. We have been friends for two years, so I know you, and Sophie wasn’t the same person as you. She was kind and gentle, and she had the most loving heart. I loved her Rob, and I miss her so badly. But I was able to see that I was wrong, and now Angela is almost everything that Sophie was.

“Words can’t express what I feel about what you and Sophie did. One day, I’d like to meet her again.”

“One day, Sean, I guarantee you shall.”

“Thanks, mate. Have a good Christmas.”

“And you.”
 

*          *          *
 
Home was the same as always and we decorated the tree in the hall. I went Christmas shopping with Sally and Mum, and Sally let it slip that they were getting me an Atari games console. I smiled, as this was so archaic that in my time one could buy wristwatches with better memory and games on than this thing.

I got a long phone call from Anna. She was in tears, as they were moving in the New Year. I promised to write, and listened to her tale of woes. She was happy in her school and, although a year behind me, she was not looking forward to changing everything. But her father’s new job meant more money and a bigger house. It also meant that she would be going to the school he taught in, and for free.

I attempted to persuade her that it was a better deal, and almost succeeded. Except she wailed that she didn’t want to move away from me. I had to promise to write again, and call whenever possible.

Finally, she rang off and I was relieved. I was fond of her, but she had fallen very hard for me.
 

*          *          *
 
Christmas Eve arrived, but I wasn’t feeling too good, too many cheese straws and mince pies. So I went to my room after supper and lay on my bed reading. I must have dozed off.
 
*          *          *
 
I awoke and felt completely disoriented. I found myself sitting beside the bed on a chair. My arms were folded in front of me with my head was resting on them. For a moment, I thought that somehow I had put on my costume for Sophie. And then it dawned on me that I was in a hospital.

There was a bleeping monitor, which was making all kinds of strange noises.

Dad was in the bed, with one hand was on his forehead.

He turned his head and looked at me.

“Hi Sophie, welcome back. Sally delivered your letter,” he said, grinning weakly.

“Dad! Oh Daddy!” I shouted and flung my arms around him.

Nurses and Doctors came running in, but I refused to let go of him.

I held onto his hand, and he was holding me just as tight.

The doctor examined him and shook his head in disbelief. The nurses were crying, as was I, and there was a real hullabaloo.

I suddenly received a flood of memories, that I knew weren’t mine, and I stared at him in amazement.

I couldn’t speak, but I went bright red when I realised what had happened between Matthew Kaiser and ‘me’.

And ‘I’ only ended up going to the concert with him.

The senior registrar was called in, and after a thorough examination, he could see no reason why Dad couldn’t go home. I rang up Sally and she whooped in delight and told me that she would be over to pick her brother and niece up. I asked her not to tell the grandparents, as I wanted this to be a real Christmas Eve surprise for them.

Dad had some clothes, as I realised that ‘I’ had brought him in some clothes in the hope that he was going to come round much earlier. This memory business was going to cause some real headaches for both of us. Dad dressed, and then hugged me again. Neither of us could stop grinning. There were nurses loitering, but we were both dying to talk about what had happened.

“Well, Sophie, how’s this for faith?” said the doctor ‘I’ had spoken to early on.

“I knew he’d come back to me,” I said.

“Happy Christmas,” he said, and I burst into tears.

Sally arrived and we had a three-way hug. She looked at me closely.

“I’m me again Aunty Sally. Thanks for keeping the letter.”

“This is so weird. But I am so pleased to have you both back.”

We pushed Dad in a wheelchair to the car, as the hospital didn’t want him collapsing on their premises.

When we finally got to the car and were on way, we were able to speak.

“Dad. What the hell have you done with Matthew?” I said, and he grinned.

“Call him, he loves you,” he said.

“That’s not the point, he loves you, not me.”

“No sweetie, he loves Sophie, so that is and always was you and you alone.”

I opened my mouth, and he said, “And while we are on this subject, what about Sean, and Anna?”

I shut my mouth and went red.

Sally looked at each one of us in turn and shook her head.

“This is too weird,” she said, and we both laughed.

“So, young lady, how did you like the 1970s?” he asked.

“They were okay, but that bloody game, it ought to be banned.”

“You got me my colours, if it’s any consolation, I went on to be captain of the firsts in my final year.”

I grinned, feeling genuinely pleased and proud of myself.

“And so you should,” he said, and I realised that he knew what I was thinking.

“You read my mind,” I said.

“No, it’s just that for four months it was my mind, so I feel I know you far better than a father normally knows a daughter. And by the way, I got rid of Mrs Hardacre.”

I searched my memories and started to smile, particularly when I realised exactly what ‘I’ had said.

“Dad. How could you?”

“I didn’t, you did,” he said, with that evil grin of his.

I sat back, letting the memories come flooding through, and I was shocked, horrified, embarrassed, pleased, flattered and overjoyed. But most of all I was proud of how my Dad had coped, and what he had achieved.

Sally pulled the car to a halt outside the house. We got out, and I cried as I looked at the house again. I admitted that I thought I might never see it again, as Sophie at any rate.

“It’s been a long time,” I said.

“Yes, Sophie, it has. Before we go in, come here,” Dad said.

I went over and he just held me, as we both cried.

We cried in relief, joy, pride and happiness. We were where we both belonged and I loved him so much.

Sally went in, to find the Grandparents sitting watching TV with Steven. Dad and I walked in after Sally.

“Hello everyone,” he said quietly.

Granny, who was nodding off, shook her head and blinked vacantly several times. Steven took one look and was immediately in his father’s outstretched arms.

Grandpa surprised me by bursting into tears.

“My Boy. Robert. My God, what a miracle!” he said, and immediately joined us, to be followed by a weeping Granny.

Joy was present in our household that night, and we watched as Dad tucked away a huge plate of ham and eggs.

At midnight, I went up to bed, to find my room exactly how I had left it. Except for a photograph of Matthew with “To Sophie, with all my love, Matt XXXX” written thereon. It had been taken at the Justin Timberlake concert, and I remembered it as if I had been there.

I was just in bed when my Dad came in.

“Steven is asleep,” he said.

“Oh Dad, what an adventure. Did you know when it was going to end?”

“Not for ages, but then when Sally gave me the letter, she told me that I behaved very oddly on Christmas Eve. Apparently, I went up and had a nap and came down at about ten and hugged everyone. I guessed that it was then. So I had to be in the hospital when it happened, then I knew we would be together.”

“I missed you so much,” I admitted.

“Me too, sweetheart. I have to confess that I became you, and would have quite liked to have continued being you for as long as I could. But this is for the best. You have your life to lead, as I’ve already had my chance.”

“Dad?”

“What, sweetie?”

“What happened to Anna?”

He shrugged.

“Could you find out?” I asked.

“I don’t know, I suppose so. There might be something on the internet.”

“Did you write to her?”’

“For about three years, then we just lost touch.”

“Ring her tomorrow.”

“I don’t know her name, or her number.”

“Dad. I feel this is important.”

“Okay, I’ll see,” he said, and I immediately knew that expression.

“Dad.”

“Okay, I’ll try hard.”

“Good. Shit Dad, you sneaked my first kiss.”

“Well, you kissed my best friend, and Anna and the other girl who I would rather forget.”

I giggled.

“Quits?”

“Quits.”

“Oh Daddy, you have no idea how good it is to be home.”

“I do, sweetie, I do.”

“I don’t suppose we’ve bought any Christmas presents?” I said.

“I think we have the best Christmas present that we could have ever wanted.”

We just hugged each other for a long time. It was okay being Rob, but this was better.
 

*          *          *
 
I woke up late on Christmas morning. Steven was already up and opening the stocking that his grandparents had produced. They even gave me one, and it had all sorts of goodies in it. I hugged them, I preferred them as Grandparents, and could hardly recognise Grandpa as the strict father of the 1970s.

Dad was already up and in his study. I went in and gave him a hug.

“Morning my sweetie,” he said, “Happy Christmas.”

“Morning Daddy, Happy Christmas.”

He was looking at the screen, it was the web site of the school to which Anna Martin’s father had gone, and to which Anna attended up to leaving at eighteen. He had found her details.

She had gone to St. Andrews University in Fife, and then gone on to become a teacher. She had met and married another teacher called Edward Lumley, and they had a daughter. They settled in Perthshire, both teaching at the same private school. Edward died in a car crash three years ago, and she had not remarried.

I dialled 118500, and asked for Anna Lumley’s number in Perthshire.

The operator asked if I wanted to be put through, and I said yes. I then wrote down the number, and handed the phone to Dad.

He looked horrified and scared, so I laughed. He took the phone and held it to his ear.

“Hello, Anna. Look, you probably won’t remember me, and I apologise ..”

“Yes, that’s right, I’m Rob.….”

“How did you know? … Oh, the papers, I didn’t realise.”

“No, I’m fine now, I came round last night.”

“Yes, you are the first person I called.”

“That’s right, she died of cancer four years ago.”

“No, no one, you?”

“Look, this is a long shot, but do you fancy meeting up for New Year?”

“You do? Wonderful, how about coming here. There is room and I’m sure your daughter and mine will get on.”

“Sophie is nearly sixteen, how about your daughter?”

“Another Sophie. Amazing.”

“From the play too, yes, that is why I called her Sophie as well.”

“I have another, a son, Steven, he’s ten.”

“Anytime you like, if you fly down, I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“Twenty seventh? No, that will be fine. I’d love to have both of you for as long as you want.”

“No, I never forgot you either.”

“Look forward to it, I’ll see you then.”

“Goodbye.”

He gave me the phone and looked bemused.

“She told me that she’d read about me in the papers and prayed for me every night. I never realised that it hit the nationals,” he said.

“So, she’s coming?” I asked.

“Yes, she and her daughter are both coming. She called her Sophie too, after the play.”

“How old is she?”

“Thirteen in March.”

Dad was looking rather shocked.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m confused, why do I feel so excited?”

“I don’t think either of you ever stopped loving the other. You just lost each other.”

“But you met her first,” he said.

“Maybe, but your memory retained it and carried on where I left off.”

We sat together, talking through some of the amazing experiences we had been through. I felt as though we had grown so close that we were almost one person.

“Ring Matthew and wish him a happy Christmas, and see if he liked his present.”

“What? Oh Daddy, you didn’t?”

Daddy ignored me as he dialled Matt’s mobile, he had it memorised, so we both smiled.

When he handed me the phone, I was shaking.

“Hi Matt, it’s Sophie.”

“I know, Happy Christmas. And thanks for the chain and medallion. I have it on. I’ll never take it off,” he said. I went all goosebumpish at the sound of his voice.

“I’m pleased you like it.”

“Have you opened my present yet?”

“What present?”

“I put it under your tree.”

I stood up, and went to the tree in the living room.

I found a very small parcel on one of the lower branches.

It had, ‘To Sophie from her bloke’, written on a tiny label.

“Hi Bloke,” I said, and I heard him chuckle.

I opened it with some difficulty, as I tried to balance the phone at the same time.

“Have you shares in Sellotape or something?” I asked, and finally opened it. It was a small box, and inside was a pretty ring with a pair of sapphires set in the gold.

“It’s beautiful.” I said.

“The blue are your eyes, and the gold is your hair.”

“Soppy sod,” I said, as tears fell from my eyes.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” I lied and then spoiled it by sniffing.

“You are. Who’s the soppy one?”

“Me,” I said, blowing my nose on the tissue Daddy handed me.

“Sophie, I miss you so much.”

“Me too. When are you coming back?”

“On about the twenty-seventh. Will you be staying at home?”

“Yes. Oh, and guess what, my Dad came round yesterday, and he is home now.”

“That’s great, I suppose you will want to be with him?”

“We’re having a party on New Years Eve, he has an old girlfriend coming, and I thought I’d invite some friends, so see if any of your friends can come, say about five or six.”

“Cool, okay. But what about the twenty-seventh?”

“Just come round, Dad won’t mind you being here, bring a sleeping bag and just doss down wherever there is a corner, for as long as you want.”

“Your Dad won’t mind?”

I looked at Daddy, and he smiled.

“My Dad is the best Dad in the world. He is so cool; he is out of this world.”

“Okay, I’ll be there on the twenty-seventh.”

“I can’t wait,” I said, and found that I meant it.

“I love you Sophie.”

“Yeah I know.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Tart.”

“I know, but I love you too.”

“You do?”

“No, I just say that to all the boys. Of course I do. Twat.”

He laughed, and the sound filled me with expectation and joy.

“Does the ring fit?”

I slipped it onto my right ring finger.

“Yes, on the right hand. I’ll wait a few years and then you can buy me one for the left.”

“Done.”

“See you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I turned and looked at my Dad, and he smiled at me.

“Thanks Dad, you did good.”

He nodded. “So did you, Sophie, so did you.”

---

 
To Be Continued...

Gruesome Tuesday by Tanya Allan   Fifteen-year old Sophie wants to go to a Justin Timberlake concert, but her father, Rob, doesn’t want to let her go. Having lost his wife to cancer, he may be over-protective. They have an argument, in which she accuses him of not understanding what it is like to be young. He remembers his youth well, and telling her that she has it easy compared to him. A freaky electric shock transports her into her father’s fifteen-year old body in a boys’ boarding school in the 1970s, and he ends up as her in the present. Things then get very interesting indeed!

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

---

Originally written in 2004, revised in 2009.
 
The Legal Stuff: Gruesome Tuesday  ©2004, 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. Rob's Story
 
 
I awoke lying in the bed. I remembered going into the hospital and sitting by the bed, as Sophie. I didn’t remember how I got on the bed, and then I saw my daughter just waking up, I knew instantly that in was back where I belonged.

“Hi Sophie, welcome back. Sally delivered your letter,” I said, and grinned.

“Dad! Oh Daddy!” she shouted and flung her arms around my neck.

The next hour was a confusion of people and movement. I was allowed to go home, and Sally arrived, so I guessed that Sophie called her.

Poor Sally, Sophie and I caught up with everything, and Sally was sort of left out. She kept muttering that we were weird, but it was nice to see her again.

Sophie had grown up. She was a mature girl anyway, but she was now even older and wiser. We had almost the ability to read each other’s minds, and I knew that we were closer than any two people before us in history.

It was great seeing my folks again, and they both broke down into tears. It was all very emotional and wonderful. I had never been away, but it was great to have us both back as we should have been. I was pleased to see that my father had chucked out the old washing machine and bought a new one.

Sophie went up to bed, so I had some time with my father alone.

“That girl of yours, she’s one in a million,” he said.

“I know that Dad.”

“She was there at your bedside most days, without fail.”

“I know Dad.”

“When we came over here, we thought we’d be baby-sitting, but she is more grown up than I could ever have imagined. She’s even got a boyfriend.”

“I know Dad. He’s a nice boy, and I approve.”

“I used to think your rather liberal ways would not bring up the children properly. I was wrong, they’re both cracking kids, and I love them dearly. It just goes to show, that different strokes work for different folks.”

“Quite Dad. I can’t thank you and Mum enough for what you did.”

“Nonsense. What kind of grandparents would we be to have stayed away at a time like this? It was a privilege to stand in for a while. As a result we have got to know our grand children a whole lot better.”

“Still, it was a great comfort to me to know that you were here, and that the kids were well cared for.”

“That’s all right. I have to confess, we were thinking about going home and taking the children with us. Sophie wasn’t keen, but Steven was quite all right. I don’t think he is happy in his school.”

“I’m aware of that. But I can’t afford private education for both.”

“I don’t think they both need it, only Steven.”

“Dad, if I can’t afford both, then neither will get it, I need to be fair.”

“Sophie’s doing well where she is, sometimes it is not a case of being fair, but sensitive to needs,” he said, and I smiled.

“I know, whoever said life was fair, eh?”

“Exactly.”

“I have been known to say that myself,” I admitted.

“Well, I have a little put by, and if you want I will help towards the boy’s schooling. I didn’t want to interfere, but he clearly is not happy at his school.”

“Thanks, but let’s see what happens this year. If he struggles, then I will look at the situation. But I certainly don’t want to make any rushed and hasty decisions. But I agree, Sophie is doing very well and I’m pleased with her progress.”

“Rob, ah, well, I don’t want to offend, but, I was wondering, isn’t it about time, you, ah….” I interrupted my father in mid stutter.

“Dad, I will start trying to find someone soon. No one should be alone, and when Sophie is a couple of years older, I know she will be away, and Steven won’t be that far behind.”

“Good, your mother and I were getting worried about you.”

“I appreciate it, Dad, but I just wasn’t ready before, now I am.”

“Well, we will be heading home tomorrow. If that is all right with you?”

“Fine Dad, as I said, I am so grateful for everything you have done.”

We then did something quite rare for my father and I, for we hugged.

“Happy Christmas, Dad.”

“And to you, Rob, my boy, and to you.”

I went upstairs and found Sophie on her bed. She was in tears at being back home where she belonged, so we had some time together. She reminded me about Anna, and we went over some of what had gone on. I told her, quite truthfully, that I had been more than prepared to continue being Sophie, and that I actually enjoyed being her.

In the end, we had a hug and were glad that everything was as it should be.
 

*          *          *
 
I was up first, and went and checked my Emails. I had managed to keep an eye on them, as Sophie, but I was way behind on my deadlines for stories. Fortunately, all my editors were aware of my predicament, so I was given some assurances that everything was fine, but I knew I had a lot of work to do.

I remembered the school that Mr Martin went to, and I knew that Anna was enrolled there as a pupil. I found the website, and found the entry for Anna. I was sitting staring at it when Sophie came in and wished me a Happy Christmas.

The little minx dialled directory enquiries and only called Anna on Christmas morning, and gave me then phone as it was ringing.

I had an amazing time talking with her, and through our conversation discovered that I had been in the national papers. I had been so wrapped up with school and boys that I hadn’t been aware of the press coverage.

Not only was she aware of my accident, but she was aware that Karen had died. We had a brief chat and when I invited her to get together; she almost bit my hand off.

Before I knew it, she had agreed to come south for New Year, and would fly in on the twenty-seventh with her daughter.

I felt like a schoolboy on his first date, as I was quite excited. I only hoped that Anna hadn’t put on fifteen stone, or was an alcoholic who smoked fifty a day. I couldn’t imagine her falling that low, but stranger things had happened.

I got my own back on Sophie by calling Matthew and giving her the phone. He had been crafty and left a present on the tree for her, and she found out that I had given him a neck chain with a gold pendant with Sophie & Matthew engraved intertwined thereon.

He had bought her a sapphire ring. It wasn’t a cheap one, and I was afraid that he had fallen very hard, and poor Sophie had to contend with a lovesick young man. As he was her first proper boyfriend, I was worried that she would not get the broader experience of life that she should. But then, she was a sensible girl, and I had to let her lead her own life.

Steven came down for breakfast. He had opened the stocking my parents had given him. They’d bought him an X-box. I smiled, as I had planned to buy that for him, so I would have to go with him and we could get something in the sales.

We all went to the local church, and I found myself actually believing in God for the first time. I said a prayer of thanks for having my family returned to me.

Lunch was superb. Mother had done us proud, and Sally, Keith and the boys came over, and a great time was had by all. We sat around with distended tummies, then Sophie and I took the dog for a walk.

This particular chore had fallen to Grandpa during my time in hospital, as ‘Sophie’ was too busy with school and homework. My father actually enjoyed the exercise, and the brief interlude from his wife.

Sophie and I discussed the feelings we had experienced during our exchange. She also reminded me of what went on back in the 1970s. Much of it was in my memory, but needed a jolt to bring it to the fore. She told me of her time as Sophie in the play, and how she had enjoyed being a girl, albeit briefly. I had done a little checking, and discovered that Sean had married a girl called Angela, and they had six children. He was a now a Lieutenant Colonel, and they were still married.

“Dad, wouldn’t it be great to get all your chums together for New Year?”

I nodded.

“It might be tricky.”

“Can’t hurt to try, can it?”

“No, sweetie, it can’t. But don’t you spoil things by letting on how well you know them,” I said, chuckling.

“I won’t, but they were my friends too, for a while,” she said with a smile.

“I know, sweetie, and I’ll never forget that.”

She held my hand as we walked slowly home. Buster managed to get himself wet in one of the ditches, so he needed a hose down and a good towelling before he could be let loose in the house again.

I went on line, managed to track down Sean and called him on the telephone. He was just back from the Gulf, and was enjoying being with his family after several months apart. We hadn’t spoken in years, and it was really good to hear his voice again. I invited him and his brood to our party of New Year’s Eve. They were living near Camberley, and to my surprise and pleasure, accepted.

“Sophie is dying to meet you,” I said, and he went very quiet.

I smiled and then added,

“My daughter, Sophie, has heard all about you and is dying to meet you.”

He laughed, uncertainly at first, and then with unrestrained pleasure.

“I thought for a moment you’d contemplated cross-dressing,” he said, still chuckling.

“No, the once was enough for me,” I said.

“Strange though, our eldest daughter is called Sophie as well, she’s fourteen. And I was only thinking of you this last week. I went to watch her in a play, and Sophie was playing Portia in their production of a Merchant of Venice.”

“Sophie seems to be a very popular name,” I said.

“I had to have something of hers to remember her by.”

“You are a silly sod, Sean.”

“She meant the world to me for a very short time, so I can never forget her,” Sean said.

“Do you remember Anna Martin?”

“Wasn’t she old Twizzle’s daughter, and didn’t you and her have a thing going for a while?”

“That’s her. She was widowed a few years back, but she is coming to our party. She called her daughter Sophie too.”

“Not because of you know who?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Bugger me.”

“No thanks Sean. If you don’t mind.”

He laughed. “Rob, it’s such a pity we sort of lost touch, so it will be good to see you again.”

“Yeah, come early, then we can have a bit of time to ourselves. Sophie has her boyfriend here, and I have delegated most of the work to them. Anyway, how’s Angela?”

“She is fine. We’ve six kids now, and Sophie is the eldest. How old is your Sophie?”

“She will be sixteen in February. But she is actually going on twenty-three. She sort of took over bossing me about when Karen died.”

“I heard about Karen. I’m sorry, but I was in the Balkans at the time. Mike wrote to me.”

“Good old Mike. Have you heard from him recently?”

“He was over, having Christmas with the folks, I understand.”

“Any idea of their number?”

“I have it somewhere, why?”

“It would be good to see him too.”

“I’ll have a look and ring you back.”

“Thanks, bye for now.”

“Cheers.”

I put the phone down and started planning our party.
 

*          *          *
 
By the time I got up on the morning of the 27^th, we had over fifty people coming. Sophie had asked about six of her friends from school, and each had a boyfriend. Steven had four mates coming over, and they had taken over the attic, which would comfortably house them in sleeping bags.

Sophie’s friends were all local, yet I knew that young Matthew was staying, and he had the Zed-bed in my study. The main spare room was for Anna and her daughter, and the second spare room was for anyone else if they wished to stay over. Mike and his family, and Sean and his troop, were all intending to drive home, but I had enough room with Steven’s room, and my room. I was happy to sleep on the sofa, and Sophie had a spare bed in her room, or an inflatable mattress, anyway.

Sophie and I planned the cooking, as a lot had to be done before the 31^st. I went and bought out Tescos of sausage rolls and all kinds of other nibbles. She was brilliant, and planned to make a huge Chilli-con-carne, and prepared lots of baked potatoes, having in mind an assortment of fillings. She made a coronation turkey mix, and all kinds of other stuff, and I was very impressed.

Sally came and helped her, so I slipped off to the off licence to collect a vast amount of alcoholic refreshments. I then dashed off to the airport to meet Anna’s plane.

I was very nervous as I parked in Terminal One car park at Heathrow Airport. I went through into UK arrivals, and looked at the monitor. Her flight from Edinburgh had already landed, and baggage was in the hall, so she should be through very soon.

I stood and went through all the possible visions I could have for her, from the very fat to the very glamorous. I gave up, as it made me either depressed or excited.

The automatic doors opened and two girls walked through, the younger one was pushing a trolley. I immediately recognised Anna, and she had hardly changed. Oh, yes, she was thirty-nine, but she was the same height and still had that trim figure. Her hair was still auburn and lay across her shoulders, and her smile was still stunning. She was wearing a grey coat, black trousers with black boots, and I could see a grey roll neck pullover under her coat. The younger girl was a younger replica of her, so there was no doubt whose daughter she was.

As I looked at Anna, her eyes met mine. I felt my heart miss a beat and knew that the love we once felt for each other, as young as we had been, still lay in both our hearts. She stopped and smiled. Her daughter stopped and looked at her, and followed her line of sight. She saw me and said something to her mother, who smiled and nodded.

I walked over to them, and Anna looked up at me, with her eyes shining and a smile playing across her lips.

“Hello Rob.”

“Anna. You look lovely,” I said, feeling rather uncomfortable, as I wanted to take her in my arms, and didn’t know if I should. But events overtook me, as she placed her arms around my neck and we kissed. It was as if it had always meant to be. I found myself holding her around the waist, and she fitted beautifully in my arms. I held her close, savouring the smell of freshness from her hair and her very alluring scent, which, no doubt, she had deliberately selected.

She broke off, and I noticed her daughter was grinning.

“Oh, Rob. How I’ve yearned for that,” she said.

Her daughter coughed. Anna smiled, and turned and took her hand.

“Sophie, darling. This is that very special man, Rob Mills. He was my first love, and he inspired me to call you Sophie. Rob, this is my Sophie.”

“Hello Sophie. It is really nice to meet you at last,” I said, kissing her cheek.

I took over the trolley from her and she smiled.

“Mum has gone on and on about you since you called. Did you really play a girl’s part in a play?”

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”

“She said you were so good that everyone thought you were a real girl.”

“That was very sweet of her, but I hardly think so.”

“You did, Rob. You were very convincing. But, I wouldn’t try now, you’ve grown too much into a man,” Anna said. This was true, as I was a good six feet two inches and very broad.

“You haven’t changed, you are still one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen, apart from your Sophie, and mine, of course.”

She laughed, and it sounded like magical crystal bells playing in the distance.

“Mother hasn’t laughed much recently,” Sophie explained, almost apologetically.

“I can understand that. Neither have I,” I said, and Anna and I looked at each other.

“You look wonderful, Anna.” I said.

“So do you Rob. I tried to imagine what you would look like, and I never realised you had grown so much. You look better than I could have hoped.”

“Oh Mother. Pl-ease!” said Sophie in disgust.

I smiled and pushed the trolley to the exit, paid the car park charges, and made for the car. A few minutes later we were heading north on the M25.

“So, what are your plans?” I asked her.

“Up in the air, really. Sophie starts at secondary school in September, I have given my notice in, I just can’t face staying where John and I were. I struggled through, and they have been so kind, but I need to make a life for myself somewhere new. I am open to any teaching job, and hopefully we can find a good school for Sophie, wherever we end up.”

“How about you, don’t you want to stay in Scotland?” I asked Sophie.

“Not really, I was at a school near Perth, and all my friends are going to different schools. I don’t really care.”

“John left enough for Sophie to have a good private education, or if we can get into a good grammar, then that would do, so she could keep the cash for university.”

“Good move. My Sophie is at an excellent Grammar, and if Tony Blair manages to get away with this top up fees debacle, then the kids need every penny they can get,” I said.

We talked schools for a while, and it dawned on me that I was selling the area I lived in, in the hope she would come and live close to me. I smiled, as I recognised that I was being juvenile.

We arrived at the house just before noon, and I noticed a familiar green Vauxhall Corsa in the drive.

“Matthew has arrived,” I said.

“Matthew?”

“He’s my Sophie’s boyfriend. He’s eighteen and a really nice boy. He took her to the Justin Timberlake concert in Birmingham earlier in the month.”

I parked the car on the drive, and Sophie and Matthew appeared.

“Oh, dear God!” said Anna, paling visibly.

“What?” I asked, worried.

“She is so like your Sophie, it’s uncanny.”

“Anna, she is my Sophie.”

“No, I mean your portrayal of Sophie in the play. She is just as I remembered her.”

I grinned, we got out of the car and I made all the introductions.

My Sophie was the same height, if not a little taller than Anna and she embraced her without embarrassment.

“Hello Anna, I’ve heard so much about you, and I have been dying to meet the only other woman in Dad’s life.”

Anna laughed and looked at me. I shrugged and smiled.

The two Sophies went off together, while Matthew shook my hand. It felt distinctly uncomfortable, but I resisted the urge to embrace the poor lad. It would frighten him silly!

“I’m pleased to see you upright, sir. I came to the hospital many times.”

“I know Matt, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for Sophie. And, please call me Rob, if you are as close to Sophie as I think you are, we may as well be friends too.”

He grinned, taking the luggage in from the car.

Anna held out her hand and stopped me, so we were alone for the first time. I turned and faced her.

“Rob, I feel like a sixteen year old again.”

“You look like a sixteen year old. You’re just as I remembered you.”

“I never stopped loving you. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“I hated my father for moving away.”

“I did too, but it wore off.”

“I wanted to marry you,” she said, and laughed nervously.

I looked at her and read her expression. She, like me, had had enough of being alone, and of well meaning friends trying to find suitable potential partners. There was a longing there and desire, a desire that I could feel and mirror.

“Then marry me now,” I heard my voice say.

She looked sharply at me.

“I was serious,” she said with a smile.

“So am I Anna.”

She gasped, so I took her in my arms.

“As soon as I saw you, all the old feelings came back, and I knew that whatever we had was special, and it’s still there. I am offering you the companionship and love that we both need. I know that I love you, plain and simple, although we’ve both matured a little with age, like good Stilton,” I said, kissing her.

We stood there for a long time. She broke it off, looking up at me. It started to rain.

“But……..”

“But, what?”

She smiled. “Yes,” she said, plain and simple.

I smiled and nodded. We kissed again.

“Love at second sight,” I said, and she laughed.

The two girls came out and saw us. My Sophie smiled and knew exactly what had happened.

“Congratulations,” she said to Anna, kissing her on the cheek. The other Sophie was frowning and looking rather confused.

“I told Matt to put Sophie in with me, and I think your cases are in Dad’s room.” she said, taking both of us by the arms and leading us inside out of the rain.
 
 
Chapter 12. Sophie's Story
 
 
Matt’s car drove onto the drive and I was out of the door like a rocket. I was rather nervous, but he smiled at me in such a way that my legs turned to jelly. He opened his arms and I fell into them, after a slight hesitation. Whatever memories Dad had created for me were so vivid, they were as real as if I’d made them. We kissed for ages, until Steven started making rude noises out of his bedroom window at us.

Dad had gone to pick up his girlfriend, so I put Matt to work getting a bar set up and getting the decorations just right. Sally went home, having been tasked with making several puddings for the party. I wasn’t too hot on puddings yet.

I was in the kitchen when Dad’s car pulled onto the drive, and I went out to meet them with Matt.

Anna looked remarkably unchanged by the years, a little older, but a strikingly attractive woman. She glanced my way and I saw her pale, as I knew that I resembled the Sophie from the play. I had long blonde hair and my make up was almost the same.

Daddy formally introduced us, but I knew she found my appearance disconcerting. There was electricity between Dad and her, and I knew instantly that these two were destined to be together.

I took her Sophie inside, while Matt collected their luggage. I watched as Dad and Anna embraced on the drive, pleased to see that the chemistry was still as strong as ever. If ever two people were made for each other, it was these two.

I think I knew then that they would get married, so I told Matt where to put the cases in Dad’s room and mine.

“You told me they haven’t seen each other for years.”

“They still love each other. You watch, I’ll bet you that Dad proposes and she accepts.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

“What?” said the other Sophie.

“My Dad and your Mum have always loved each other, and I think they will get married.”

“She has been on and on about him,” she admitted.

“What did she say?”

“She said he was the most wonderful kind and gentle boy she ever knew.”

“There you are then. Oh, look, it’s raining and they are oblivious. She is looking dazed, so he has proposed already. Now they are kissing again, and she has nodded. Well Sophie, it looks like we are to be step-sisters.”

“How can you tell?” she said, looking out of the window.

“I know my father rather better than most people should. I’m going to rescue them, they’re getting soaked,” I said and went to get them.

They both had glazed expressions and were oblivious to the rain. I simply kissed Anna’s cheek and congratulated her. She looked at me in amazement and allowed me to drag the pair of them out of the rain.

A little later, we all sat down to lunch. I had made a lasagne, baked potatoes, with some salad. Dad poured some wine and was disgustingly cheerful.

Anna just sat and looked dewy-eyed at Dad, and was almost in tears. But these were tears of joy after years of misery and despair. The mood was good, even if Matt was a little in awe of Dad.

I cleared away the plates and went into the kitchen. Anna followed me in.

“How did you know?” she asked.

I smiled. “I know my Dad. He’s been alone for four years, and I saw how much he loves you. He’s not prepared to lose you again. Not twice. Besides, it’s what I would have done,” I said, and put the dishes into the dishwasher.

“This is uncanny,” she said.

I stood up and looked at her.

“What is?”

“We’ve never met, and yet I could swear that I know you.”

I smiled. “Anna, my Dad loves you so much, I feel that I know you too. My Dad and I are very close, we’ve had to be, after Mum dying. We have no secrets, we can’t afford them, as I’ve had to grow up rather faster than I should have. The boy you met all those years ago was almost exactly my age. It stands to reason that he and I share some family similarities.”

“You know that I never stopped loving him?”

“I know.”

“And that we just lost contact and made lives for ourselves?”

I nodded.

“I loved Edward, as I’m sure he loved your mother. But I don’t think we ever forgot each other, nor did we stop loving each other.”

“You don’t have to explain. I know,” I said.

“You are so like the Sophie I saw all those years ago, it’s really uncanny.”

I smiled.

“There’s a tray of mince pies in the oven, could you take them in for me?” I asked, closing the subject.

At the end of the meal, Dad banged his glass with a knife, and a hush settled.

“I’d just like to say a big thank you to my daughter for doing such good grub, and for her personal slave, Matt, for being so useful. It has been a while since this house has heard so much laughter, and it does me good to hear it again. I’d like to make an announcement, which may surprise some of you.

“About an hour and a half ago I proposed to Anna, who, despite having not seen me for twenty-five years, and much to my delight and surprise, has agreed to be my wife. So, I’d like to propose a toast to the future Mrs Mills.”

I grinned at Matt, as we raised our glasses, and the other Sophie’s jaw hit the table. Anna looked so serene and gazed at Dad in undisguised adoration. It was like a fairy story. I just beamed at Dad, and he raised his glass in my direction.

Matt and I took Buster for a walk after lunch, and Sophie came too. She was rather unsettled, as her mother’s accepting Dad’s proposal surprised the hell out of her.

She was a nice girl, who, although only three years younger than me, was considerably less mature. Matt held my hand, and my memories of ‘our’ times together were so fresh, as made no difference. He kept squeezing my hand, and I would return the squeeze, which kept the poor soul content.

Buster adored Sophie, who threw sticks for him.

“Your Dad is a fast worker,” Matt said.

“Not really. I think he realised that as soon as he saw Anna, he knew he still loved her, and she returned the love in equal measure. I think it’s logical and a super end to several years of unhappiness for two people.”

“You are so weird,” he said.

“Why?”

“You’re the only sixteen year-old who acts thirty.”

“I’m not sixteen until February,” I reminded him, and he grinned.

“I know,” he said, and I elbowed him in the tummy.

“Don’t you even think about it. It may be legal, but I’m not doing it just because I can,” I said.

He had the grace to blush and look a little guilty, and I relented a little.

“I’ll do it when I want to with the man who becomes my husband.”

“Marry me, Sophie.”

“Bugger off, not yet,” I said, laughing.

“Does that mean later?”

“It means I will not accept any proposal yet, so don’t bother asking again, for a long time.”

He tried to tickle me, and we ended up kissing. Sophie was rather shocked, so we stopped and continued our walk. It was so strange, for it was as if I had been here all the time. I could remember every conversation ‘we’ had had, and I felt all the emotions that ‘I’ had experienced, and it was exactly as if it had been me all along.

“Sophie?”

“Yes Sophie?” I said.

“What’s your school like?”

“It’s okay. Better than most, I suppose. Why, will you be going there too?”

“I don’t know. I have to change if we move down here, and I don’t really want to go to a boarding school.”

“You’d like my school, it’s pretty good.”

“It will be strange having an older sister. I’ve been alone for so long.”

“You’ll have a younger brother as well, and Steven can be an annoying little sod at times.”

“It is going to be confusing with us both called Sophie.”

“Did you have a nickname at school?” I asked.

She coloured a little, “Yes, but I didn’t like it.”

“I don’t, so we will have to think of something else.”

“How about if we call you ‘Emmie’, for Sophie Mills, and you ‘Ellie’, for Sophie Lumley?” suggested Matt.

“Hmmm.” I said, not entirely convinced.

“Well, combine the two, ‘Sophie Emme’ and ‘Sophie Elle’, that would do it,” said Matt, whom I could tell was not certain what the fuss was about.

We arrived back to find that one of Steven’s friends had arrived, and they were busy turning the attic into a boys’ dormitory. I went to the kitchen and was busy writing a list for the planned shopping trip. Dad recruited Matt to help with various chores, and Anna came into the kitchen.

“Sophie seems to have taken a shine to you,” she said.

“Really?”

“She is normally rather wary of older girls, I think she is rather self conscious, and because of Edward’s death, she lacks some confidence.”

“I understand. Mum’s death hit me very hard. But I think Dad was hit worse. I was only eleven. He needed someone to look after him, so I just got the job.”

She sat on the stool, and looked at me. “You look so much older than sixteen,” she said.

“I’m not sixteen until February,” I replied.

“Even more so then. I still can’t get over how much like your father you are.”

“Thanks a bunch,” I said, trying to put on a deep voice, and she laughed.

“Not him now, but when he was in a play at school. His portrayal of a girl was so utterly convincing that I was amazed. Then I saw you today, it almost made my heart stop. As you were that girl. Yet there was never anything effeminate about him, he was able to act so brilliantly. I should know, as I’d never fall for anyone effeminate.”

I smiled.

“It’s funny,” she continued, “as soon as I saw your father, it was as if I was back when we last met, and he looked at me in the same way. Never has anyone made me feel like this. Not even Edward, and I loved him dearly.”

I smiled, as there was not much I could say.

Matt popped his head round the door.

“Your Dad wants to know whether you want to go shopping today or tomorrow,” he asked.

“Now would be better than Saturday,” I said.

“Okay, do you want me to take you?”

“If you want to,” I said, and he just grinned.

“Is there room for Sophie?”

“Of course,” he said.
 

*          *          *
 
Anna had Dad to herself for a while, while the three of us set of for Tescos. Matt pushed the trolley and we mingled with the millions of other people who all were doing the same as us. I met up with Caroline in the frozen food section, and she had lost her mother somewhere in the store.

“How many are coming to your party?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, I think about fifty.”

“Fifty-three, at last count,” said Matt.

“How many our age?”

“Not counting Steve and his friends, about fourteen.”

“Cool. It was great to hear about your Dad. You must be thrilled, is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Oh, this is Sophie, her Mum is an old girl friend of Dad’s, and they got engaged this morning,” I said, introducing Sophie to my friend.

“Hi Sophie, hey another Sophie.” she said, and realised what else I had said. “Wow. Really? That was sudden.”

“It was when you consider they haven’t seen one another for twenty-five years, and he proposed to her within the first hour.”

“And she accepted? Shit, that’s amazing.”

Matt started making those noises than males make after prolonged exposure to supermarkets, so we moved off, with Caroline seeking her mother.

“She’s nice,” said Sophie.

“Yeah, unfortunately most of my friends are in the lower sixth, so my last year is going to be miserable.”

“You look older than she was.”

“Such is the stress of looking after Dad,” I said, and she laughed.

We finished our shop, having filled two trolleys by the end. Dad had given me sufficient cash to pay, so we loaded it into the back of Matt’s Corsa.

We drove home and Sophie seemed a lot more cheerful. I tried to imagine how stressful it would be to be uprooted and transported five-hundred miles just for a party with complete strangers, and end up watching your mother getting engaged to a man you’ve never met within seconds of arriving.

Anna and Dad were in his study, and I heard her laughter fill the house as soon as we walked in.

“She hasn’t laughed like that for ages,” Sophie said.

I enlisted her help to make supper, while Matt went back to setting up the bar. I decided to make a curry with all the leftovers from Christmas, and we worked well together. She reminded me of her mother, and I smiled at the strange memories I had.

“It’s really horrid losing a parent, isn’t it?” I said.

“Yes, I said goodbye to Daddy after breakfast and never saw him again.”

“My mother was ill with cancer for several months, and I watched her literally disappear and crumple day by day. It was foul. In a way I’d rather she had died instantly. She tried various treatments, which seemed to work for a while, and then she would be as bad as before, if not worse. But I suppose your Dad was such a sudden shock.”

“At least I knew that Daddy didn’t suffer. I just miss him so much,” she said, and I could see tears weren’t far away.

“I’m sorry, I just haven’t really been able to talk about it with anyone who knows how it feels,” I said.

“All the girls in school told me they felt sorry, but they hadn’t a clue.”

“I know, as it’s almost like having part of your body removed. And Dad was so cut up, we would just cry together. Steven was only six, so he didn’t really understand, and I suppose I was a sort of mother figure for him. It made me grow up very quickly. I was just glad that Dad was able to work from home.”

“What does he do?”

“He was a journalist with a local newspaper, and now he is freelance, writing articles for magazines and he writes novels.”

“Mummy is a teacher, but she isn’t happy where she is at the moment. She wants to change jobs at the same time as I change schools, as she hates living with the memories at home. I think it would be different if it was our own home, but ours is owned by the school, so it doesn’t feel like home for either of us.”

“Wouldn’t you get preferential fees if you went there?”

“Probably, but I don’t think I’d like it. It’s my home as well, it would be too much.”

We had done everything, so I put the water on for the rice. I took the na’an bread out of the freezer and found the poppadums. Matt came in and wrapped his arms around me from behind, kissing the nape of my neck. It sent shivers of pleasure up my spine. I turned round and we kissed properly for a few moments.

“Mmm, that smells good. How long?” he asked.

“About twelve minutes, so go and tell everyone to get ready, I should think Dad will want some wine opened, so ask him which one. If you want a beer, I put some in the fridge.”

He kissed me again. “You’re so wonderful, please marry me.”

“Fuck off,” I said laughing, and he pretended to be hurt as he slunk away.

“He’s nice,” Sophie said.

“He’s gorgeous, but never tell him I said so,” I said, and she laughed. I cooked the poppadums and warmed the bread in the oven.

“Doesn’t your Dad mind your boyfriend being here?”

“Dad is brilliant, and he trusts Matt implicitly, as do I. But I’m the one he should watch, because it wouldn’t take much for me to let Matt have his wicked way.”

“You wouldn’t?” she said, shocked.

I smiled. “No, actually I wouldn’t. At least not yet,” I said, rather wistfully.

Dad and Anna came in, and they both looked so happy, I couldn’t help but grin at them. They smiled back and Dad winked at me.

The boys descended from the attic with a good deal of noise and eventually settled at the table.

Sophie and I dished up the curry and a couple of bottles of wine were opened. The atmosphere was light and cheerful, and Matt played footsie with me for most of the meal. Anna sat about as close to Dad as she physically could, while Matt poured Sophie a glass of wine without her mother noticing.

It was one of those meals that just went on and on. I had prepared some fresh fruit, melon, peaches and pears, and just dumped it into a bowl and let everyone help themselves. Another bottle of wine was opened, and most of us, except the two young boys, got a little pickled. The boys returned to the land of the Xbox in the attic, and eventually I went and loaded up the dishwasher.

Dad offered Anna the spare room, which she declined, as she had found her man and wasn’t going to let him go. Sophie was happy to share with me, and Matt put up the Zed-bed in Dad’s study. I got ready for bed and went to the bathroom. Dad had a bathroom en-suite to his bedroom, and the main spare room had another bathroom, so I had one that I had to share with anyone else who was staying, and with Steven of course.

By the time I got back, Sophie was already tucked up in her bed.

She was giggling, as she had not drunk wine before.

“Goodnight Sophie Elle,” I said.

“Goodnight. Sophie Emme.”

I turned the light out on a good day.
 
 
Chapter 13. Rob's Story
 
 
I awoke in semi-darkness, and had a momentary panic as I forgot who or where I was. The familiar features of the master bedroom at home reminded me that I was back where I belonged and, more importantly, so was Sophie.

Then I realised that an arm was wrapped around my middle, and it wasn’t mine.

I looked at the sleeping woman and smiled. Anna looked beautiful even first thing in the morning, and that was a rare quality in a woman. She opened an eye and smiled.

I kissed her, so she snaked her arm behind my head.

“Mmm, morning,” she said, returning the kiss.

I couldn’t believe how blessed I was, to have had the opportunity to love, and be loved by, two wonderful women.

“You’re all scratchy,” she complained.

“I also want to pee,” I said, as I extricated myself from her embrace.

“Have one for me while you’re there,” she said.

I smiled, and managed to reach the bathroom. It had been a long time since I shared my bed with anyone. Occasionally, just after Karen died, the kids would sleep with me, and that helped me, as I hated being alone. But it had been some time since that had happened.

I relieved myself, and then ran some water into the basin. As I started to shave, I realised that here was one advantage of being female. Anna came in and hugged me, before sitting on the loo herself. There was no embarrassment and no awkwardness between us; it was as if we had been together for years. She finished, and came and cleaned her teeth.

“Are you coming back to bed?” she asked.

“If I’m not, then I’m shaving for nothing,” I said and she laughed. I felt her hand snake into my trousers, and I was instantly aroused.

“Now, now, careful, otherwise I’ll cut my nose off, and then you’ll be sorry,” I said.

It’s not your nose I’m interested in!” she said. However, she took her hand away and chuckled, and went back to bed.

I finished shaving and followed her back to the bedroom. Her nightdress was on the floor, and all she wore was a cheeky grin and an expectant expression peeking above the duvet, which she had pulled up to her chin.

I experienced a pang of extreme tenderness, and joined her, naked under the duvet. I had not been intimate with a woman since Karen had died and, indeed, if the truth be known, for about a year before that.

We made love very slowly and tenderly, as if to hurry it would be somehow in breach of what we had discovered. We were two injured souls, just finding solace with each other and beginning to feel whole people once more.

She lay in my arms afterwards, holding me tightly.

“Do you feel guilty?” she asked.

“About what?”

“Anything, - everything, - this?”

“Not in the least, do you?”

“No, but I keep feeling I should.”

“Why?” I asked.

She laughed. “I don’t have a clue. I just feel that it’s all happened too fast.”

“I don’t call twenty-five years too fast, do you?”

She laughed again.

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” she said, tickling me.

I laughed, rolling on top of her again. She looked up at me.

“I do love you, Rob.”

“Yeah,” I said, kissing her.

“I never thought I’d love again, and then your phone call arrived out of the blue. I was sitting feeling really miserable, and I was thinking back to happier days, which made me even more depressed. Sophie was moaning that all her friends had gone away for Christmas, and why couldn’t we do something different, and then your call came. It was as if you knew.”

I smiled and kissed her again.

“I’d been in a bloody coma for nearly four months, so why do you think one of the first things I should do was to call you?”

“Why?”

“Because, you daft bint, I never stopped loving you.”

She stroked my face with her hand, and I was surprised to see her crying.

“You have no idea how bloody unhappy I was,” she said.

“Don’t I?”

“Oh, all right, you’re perhaps one of the few people I know who just might,” she conceded.

“And now?” I asked.

“Oh Rob, I can’t tell you what a difference your call made to me. It was like all the Christmases and birthdays all rolled into one.”

“Happy Christmas,” I said and she smiled.

I kissed away her salty tears, moving down and kissing her breasts, she began to respond, holding me close. We just revelled in each other’s touch and the sensation of being loved and loving one another. After so long, it was as if it was all so new and fresh.

Eventually we made slow and luxurious love again, and it was as if we were being fused into one entity. Being able to give pleasure to someone else, who was returning the favour, was simply exquisite.

We showered, dressed and went downstairs to find my Sophie was vacuuming the living-room carpet. She had Matt washing the windows and the other Sophie cleaning the silver.

The younger boys had been banished to the attic, to make no noise and told only to come out for meals.

Today was the twenty-eighth, and I could see that Sophie had everything under control. Anna and I had some breakfast, being careful to clear up afterwards, under the eagle eye of my daughter. The sun was out and, although cool, it was a nice day.

I suggested taking the dog for a walk, and so Anna and I took Buster into the woods for a walk. We held hands like teenagers, speaking little. I sensed we both felt relieved to have found someone, and so that dreadful loneliness was no longer hanging like a pall over us.

“Rob?”

“Mmm?”

“Are we being too hasty?”

I thought about it for a moment.

“I don’t know. I know my own mind, and as far as I am concerned, I don’t think so. But I don’t see why we need rush into anything, if you are feeling pressurised.”

She took my arm and gave it a squeeze.

“Oh Rob. It has just been so awful being alone. When you proposed I was just so surprised.”

“Does that mean you’re having second thoughts about accepting?”

She stopped walking and so I did too. She looked up at me and her eyes sparkled.

“Are you sure you were serious?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I said, smiling.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, which I caught on my index finger. I put it in my mouth, tasting the salt.

She looked so wonderful, so I bent and kissed her. She flung her arms around my neck and hugged me for all she was worth.

Buster got bored of this after a minute or so, and barked to let his feelings known.

Anna laughed, leaning back in my arms to look at me.

“I just feel that this shouldn’t be happening,” she said.

I laughed. “Why the hell not?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I think that you meet your first husband, and then that’s your lot. Falling in love is something you get one crack of.”

“Anna, I love you. I have always loved you, albeit I found a different life for a while.”

She kissed me.

“Don’t leave me. I couldn’t bear it to happen again,” she said.

“So, I take it you’ve decided to marry me again, then?”

She laughed and nodded.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Anytime,” I said, with a leer. She laughed and boxed my ears.

“If you’re going to be a dirty old man, then I may not.”

I grabbed her and made grunting noises in her ear, so she dissolved into giggles.

Barney was clearly most fed up by now, as his impatient barking stopped our tomfoolery. We continued our walk, with her arm around my back, so I draped my arm over her shoulders.

“I find your daughter most disconcerting,” she admitted.

“Sophie. Why?”

“She is so like you were for that play, it’s just uncanny.”

I smiled. I longed to tell her the truth, but knew that I couldn’t.

“I don’t know who that compliments best, me or her.”

“She is a lovely girl, but rather too all-knowing for my liking.”

“Really?”

“She knew you proposed and I accepted. How the hell did she know that?”

“As I said, Sophie and I have always been close. Since Karen died, it is hard to explain, but we have had to be there for each other. Sophie was only eleven, so I had to be a father and a mother to her, and she took on the mother role for Steven. In so many ways, she is very like me, sometimes we almost appear telepathic, but it is just we see the world in the same warped way, I suppose.”

“She’s a lovely girl.”

“So is your Sophie.”

“I’m ever so surprised that they get on so well. It was my one real concern.”

“I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“If your Sophie is anything like you, then my Sophie will become her big sister and be there for her.”

Anna laughed. “Can she walk on water as well?”

I stopped and looked at her.

“Anna, Sophie is special. I can’t explain it, but believe me she is special. She means so much to me. She saved my life, and we have shared so much.”

She placed her hand on my arm and smiled.

“I know. Anyone seeing you both can sense the special relationship you have.”

I smiled.

“But, that doesn’t mean I can’t have my wicked way with you,” I said, grabbing her.

She giggled and we kissed again, much to Buster’s disgust.

We spent the rest of the walk re-discovering a lot about each other. In fact, we both learned that we hardly knew each other at all, but gradually became aware that we had a lot in common. We liked similar foods, similar plays and books, and both longed to travel to similar exotic locations.

We arrived back at the house to find Sophie had made soup and fresh bread in the bread maker for lunch, and there was an atmosphere of calm and order about the place. The boys were still in the attic, and as they had the Xbox, they had no reason to come down. Matt was sitting at the kitchen table watching my Sophie do her nails, as the other Sophie tried to emulate her.

“Hi guys,” I said.

“Hi Daddy, nice walk?” Sophie asked.

“Mmm. Yes, very nice,” I said, and Anna grinned.
 

*          *          *
 
The days seemed to flash by. I cannot recall being quite so content. It was almost as if we were doing something wrong, so I kept feeling guilty for feeling so happy. The strangest thing was sharing a bed with someone. Having been alone for so long, I had almost forgotten what it was like, but Anna was so delightful, we just had fun remembering. She was a very tactile and sexual woman. Not in any raunchy way, she just responded to being loved, and it was so poignant that we would often simply hold each other and weep with happiness.

We got round the Sophie name confusion, because my Sophie started to call her Sophie, ‘Peewee’, and the name stuck. We weren’t into nicknames, but the girl actually liked it, and so she became Peewee from then on.

The day of the party arrived, and I found myself virtually redundant. Sophie had organised everything. She had done most of the food, and Sally had been coerced into making several luscious puddings. Matthew had taken on the bar, and even the boys had helped move the furniture.

They had turned one end of the sitting room into a disco, and the conservatory was where the oldies would be corralled. Anna and I watched with detached amusement, as Sophie organised everyone, so I opened a bottle of wine, sat back and toasted my bride to be.

“To us, my love,” I said.

“Us,” she said, as we clinked glasses.

“How many kids shall we have?” I asked, and she nearly did the nose trick with her wine.

I laughed. “Only joking. These three will be enough for a while,” I said.

She looked at me with a wistful smile.

“It’s not too late.” she said.

I looked at her.

Suddenly, I realised that I would love to cement our union with a child. We were close already, and I felt that this would bring us closer still.

“One condition,” I said.

“What?”

“If she’s a girl, we don’t call her Sophie.”

She laughed, taking my hand.

“I’d like your child,” she said, deadly serious.

“Would you, really?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded.

“It would complete the circle.”

I nodded.

“Let’s see what happens. I must confess, I hadn’t thought about it,” I admitted.

She smiled.

“I had. Why do you think I haven’t spoken about contraception?”

I suddenly got a draining feeling. I hadn’t even thought about it.

She smiled. “As it happens, I came on today, so I’m not. But, I feel I want your child more than anything else.”

I experienced mixed emotions. Relief, that I was given a brief respite, and disappointment as I found I wanted the baby too.

I moved so I was sitting next to her.

“I’d have to marry you then.”

“Oh, Rob. I’d marry you anyway,” she said, and we kissed.

“AHEM.”

We looked up at my daughter.

“Your first guests are arriving any minute, are you two changing?” she said, sounding so like Karen that it made me shiver.

She was looking like very her mother too. She was wearing a very pretty black dress, with stockings and black shoes. Her hair was freshly washed and positively gleamed. Her pretty face was conservatively made up, so she looked twenty-one, not fifteen.

A tear came to my eye, as pride and love welled up in my chest. I stood up and gave her a hug. Her hair smelled of fresh flowers, and she was wearing an alluring scent, which again reminded me of her mother.

I kissed her head.

“I love you so much, Sophie, I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you too, Daddy, but if we stand here all evening, you are going to be wearing jeans when your guests arrive.”

I went up to changed, and Anna came too. There was no self-consciousness between us and, as she stripped down to her underwear, a familiar feeling crept into my nether regions. I went and took hold of her.

She looked at me, sensing my arousal.

“Not now. Later,” she said, laughing.

I pretended to go in a huff, which made her laugh even more.

It was just as well, for as I went downstairs, the first guests arrived. They were all Matt and Sophie’s friends, and I was interested to see Peewee looking very pretty in one of my Sophie’s old dresses. They all disappeared to where the music and drink was. I had given Matt strict instructions to watch how much the young drank.

Sophie was in the kitchen, with an apron protecting her dress.

“Anything I can do, love?” I asked.

“Just be a good host, Daddy, and make sure everyone is happy,” she said, taking out a load of cocktail sausages from the oven and placing them into a dish.

Anna came down, looking gorgeous in a gold dress. I looked at my two girls, and as Peewee came over, I realised I had three lovely ladies in my life.

I told them how lucky I was, and Sophie came out with a very un-lady like snort.

“Of Daddy. PL-ease!” she said, and giggled away in the kitchen.

Mike and his family arrived, so after greeting them at the door, I took them through to the living room. The young sort of detached themselves and gravitated to the others of their own age.

It was great seeing him again. We had been in touch over the years, and had seen each other occasionally, but Australia was a heck of a long way away.

I heard the doorbell, but Sophie shouted that she was there. I was talking to Mike when a very pale Sean was led into the room by his tall attractive wife on one side and Sophie on the other.

“Sean!” I exclaimed and went over to him.

He smiled weakly at me, taking the whisky that Matt thoughtfully provided.

“Rob. Why didn’t you warn me?” he said.

“Warn you? What about?” I asked, frowning.

He pointed to Sophie, who was engaged in conversation with Angela.

“Her.”

“Who, Sophie?”

He nodded and took a deep swig of his whisky.

“She even sounds the same.”

“As what, mate?”

Sean looked at me, realising he was sounding odd.

“I’m sorry. You must think me a complete dickhead. It’s just I have been carrying around this picture in my heart since the Christmas Ball, particularly of when I danced that last time with that Sophie. Over the years, I have never forgotten, and although I adore my wife, she just has always been with me, even in the shitty times in Bosnia.

“When the door opened, I swear, my heart stopped, because there she was, looking exactly the same. The same dress, the shoes, the hair and the smile. She said, “Hello Sean, fancy seeing you again.” It was as if she knew.”

I looked across at my daughter, who glanced at me and gave me that smile. I smiled and shook my head.

“Sean, you’re talking bollocks. Sophie is fifteen, so you’ve never met,” I said.

Some colour was coming back into his face, and he smiled uncertainly.

“Yeah, you are right. It was just the shock of seeing her, I suppose. She is the spitting image of, of, you know who.”

Sophie came over and I formally introduced her to my friend.

He shook her hand, and I noticed his colour drained a little as she stared into his eyes.

I went and introduced Angela to some other friends, and left Sophie with Sean. I dreaded to think what mischief she was planning.
 
 
Chapter 14. Last Words By Sophie
 
 
Aunt Sally had just arrived and was sorting out her puddings. Mike and his brood were getting sorted with drinks, when the doorbell rang. I saw Dad was talking to Mike, so I told him I was there.

I took off my apron and opened the front door.

Sean was older and had less hair than I remembered, but he was still a hunk. His soldiering had hardened him, as there wasn’t a sign of any fat at all. He was dressed in tan trousers, an open neck check shirt with a tweed jacket. I smiled, as he didn’t have to wear a uniform to show he was military.

His tall wife, Angela, was behind him, and was talking to one of their many children. She had put a little weight on since that Christmas Ball, but it made her look better. Still attractive and, judging by the manner in which she looked at Sean, she was obviously very fond of her husband. I felt vindicated by my choice for him all those years ago.

“Hello Sean, fancy seeing you again,” I said, giving him my Sophie smile.

All the colour drained form his face, and for one ghastly moment I thought he was going to collapse on me.

“Sophie?” he croaked.

I smiled again. “Yeah, I’m Sophie. Come in, Dad is inside talking to Mike,” I said.

“Dear, are you all right? You look a little pale,” his wife asked.

He was staring at me, and I gave him a slow wink.

I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head, but Angela and I helped the poor old fool into the house.

“Hello, you must be Angela? I’m Rob’s daughter, Sophie.”

“Sophie. Now isn’t that strange, this is my Sophie,” she said, showing me her eldest daughter.

I smiled, nodding to her, as we all went into the living room. Dad came right over to Sean, so I left them together, carrying on speaking to Angela and her kids.

Dad waved me over, and introduced me to Sean again. Then he buggered off, leaving me with him.

“So, you’re at school?” Sean asked, lamely.

“Yes. It’s not like Compton College. For a start there are no boys there.”

“Oh. We didn’t have any girls.”

“I know. Except for one.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“One?”

“Mmm. I think her name was Sophie, like me.”

Sean paled again and I felt sorry for him. But, back then, I had fallen in love with the sod, a bit.

“Yeah, Dad told me about the play,” I added, grinning the kind of grin I remembered from back then.

He swallowed and I saw beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Oh, the play. Yes, I see.”

“Do you still remember her?”

Sean stared at me. “I’ve never forgotten her,” he said, looking rather guilty.

I smiled that smile again.

“That’s so sweet. Didn’t she introduce you to your wife?”

He nodded and frowned.

“Anna says I look like that Sophie.”

“Anna?”

“Yes, Dad’s fiancée, Anna Lumley. She was the daughter of one of the teachers. She and Dad went out together for a bit, before they moved away. They got back together recently. She lost her husband in a crash or something.

“Anyway she saw the play, and says that I look just like the Sophie in the play.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I bet that makes you feel really weird?” I said, and he smiled that same old charming smile.

“Yes, it certainly does.”

“So, what was she like, the mystical Sophie?” I asked.

He stared at me for several moments.

“You have to ask?” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

I smiled and shook my head.

“No Sean, I don’t have to ask. I almost feel as if I was there,” I said, smiling again.

He smiled, a very shaky smile, glancing across towards his wife, but then back at me.

“How?” he asked.

“Ah, that would be telling.” I said. “But, I’m so glad you weren’t gay after all,” I said, and went off to find Matt, leaving him staring after me with his mouth open.

Matt was by the bar, doing his best to prevent Steven and his cronies from drinking the adults’ punch.

“Hi sweetie,” I said to him, kissing him.

He looked slightly surprised, but pleased.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, and I smiled.

“Are you going to dance with me?”

He grinned and nodded.

We went into the living room and there were a few of the younger crowd dancing already. He took me in his arms, kissing me, and it wasn’t even a slow dance.

I watched as Sean went over and spoke to Dad again, and then he was introduced to Anna. I smiled, poor sod, I had really worried him.

Matt was nuzzling my neck and it felt very nice, I could also feel a certain something hardening in the trouser department, so I broke out of his grip.

“Come on you randy sod, just dance for a while and let it go down,” I said, and he went red and looked embarrassed. I laughed and kissed his cheek, and he just grinned at me as we danced.

Sally came over to me, quizzing me on Anna, as she had only just twigged that her brother was now engaged, and she was over the moon.

I checked my watch and had to stop and get some of the things out of the oven. Matt and Peewee helped me bring everything to the table, and I announced that the buffet was now open. Needless to say, Steven and the youngest mob were there first, so when they had helped themselves, I brought out the better stuff.

I was sitting with Matt, Peewee and Sean’s Sophie, and we were talking about music when Sean came over.

“How are you getting on, Sophe?” he said to his daughter.

“It’s brill, Daddy. Sophie here was at the Justin Timberlake a couple of weeks ago, and she says he was fantastic,” she said.

Sean smiled and locked eyes with me.

“Good. I’m glad you’re all getting along.”

“Have you had dessert yet, Mr Simmonds?” I asked.

He started, and then relaxed.

“Please call me Sean, as I feel I have known you for ages.”

I stood up, walking down the stairs to where he was standing.

“There is a super trifle, and the chocolate moose is to die for,” I said.

“Sounds lovely,” he said, following me into the dining room.

I handed him a bowl and a spoon, and let him help himself. He then turned and looked at me. He was forty and I was fifteen, and yet it was as if we were at that Christmas Ball again.

He swallowed, appearing very nervous.

“Why are you so nervous with me?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Why do I get the feeling that we know each other?” he asked me.

I smiled.

“You mean, like you, me and Mike sharing a study together, and I was that girl in the play?” I asked, teasing him.

He frowned.

“How did you know about the study?”

“Dad told me.”

“Oh.”

“Sean, there is no way I could have been there, so stop beating yourself up,” I said, and he smiled weakly as my heart had a little flutter.

“You loved her, didn’t you?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I still do. She was like a goddess. No matter how much I told myself it was just my friend Rob, it was as if I also knew that she wasn’t. I can’t explain it, but I swear that he was possessed by the most wonderful creature for such a short time.”

“You mean from when you banged his head in that rugger game, right up to after the play?”

He nodded, frowning again.

“Have you any idea how hard it must have been for a girl trapped in a boys’ school?” I asked.

He stared at me.

“All those boys and you in the bloody showers with a hard on?”

His mouth opened.

“And I was a bloody boy too. Talk about damned and sent to hell.”

“You?”

“Sean, how on earth do you think I know about your internal struggles? My Dad was vacant for three months. I was somehow stuck in his life, and you fell in love with me. How the hell do you think I felt?”

“You?” he repeated, unnecessarily in my book.

“Yes, Sean, me. I was the girl in the play, why do you think I dressed like this? I remembered what I was wearing that night, and tried to get a dress just like it for tonight. Do you really think my Dad could have acted that well?”

He just stared at me, making little strangled noises.

“I fell in love with you a little, after all, I was a girl, and you were so hunky. Still are, even if you are losing your hair,” I said, ruffling his receding hairline.

He looked around, so we moved off to one side. He hadn’t touched his chocolate mousse.

I took a spoonful and it was delicious.

“You really ought to eat that, Sally’s puddings are wonderful,” I said, and he automatically took a spoonful.

“How?”

“I don’t know, and it was only for those three months. But I remember everything. I remember your near breakdown when you thought you loved Rob. Our chats about whether you were gay, and our kiss. That was my first kiss, did you realise that?”

He smiled.

“Mine too.”

“But, I’m now back where I belong now while you have your Angela and your wonderful family. I’ve a great boyfriend, so life goes on. We were just never meant to be, were we?”

He shook his head, and I could tell he was trying to work out how to make a pass at me.

“Sean, forget it. My job was to straighten you out. You almost screwed me up in the process, so you must forget this conversation ever took place. The men in white coats would lock us both up if this ever got out.”

“I knew, you know?”

“Knew what?”

“As soon as you opened the door, I knew I had found you again.”

I smiled.

“I know, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I still love you.”

I shook my head.

“No Sean, you loved a girl a long time ago, and she is gone now. What we had was different and special, and was meant only to be then and there. I have a boyfriend, and am very happy. You have a wife and responsibilities.”

He nodded his head slowly, and smiled.

“You’re more beautiful now.”

I smiled and blushed, seeing Daddy approaching from behind him.

“No. I won’t go to bed with you,” I teased in a loud voice, and he laughed.

Daddy was frowning, causing me to burst out laughing.

“Hi Daddy, Sean was just telling me how much I looked like the girl you portrayed in the play.”

“Was he?” he said, still frowning.

“Oh Daddy. Stop being so silly, I was teasing you. Sean is far too old for me, and besides, I’d wear him out in less than three hours.”

Anna appeared so I slipped away. Sean saw me go and smiled. Pity, he was still quite hunky.

Matt grabbed me and pulled me onto the dance floor again, and I spent the rest of the evening in his arms.

We were snuggled together on a sofa when Daddy came over to us.

“Sophie, Sean and Angela are leaving,” he said.

I looked at my watch, it was one in the morning, but the party was still going strong. I unwrapped myself from Matt’s clutches and went to the door. Angela gave me a hug and a kiss, as did each of the kids. They had had a super time, even their Sophie had rather fallen for some boy who was someone’s brother.

Angela took her brood to the car, while Sean said goodbye to Dad.

Then he turned to me, and I put my arms round his neck and kissed him as I had on that last occasion.

I stopped, looked at him and smiled.

“Goodbye Sean, I’m glad that Angela looked after you so well. Good luck with the rest of your life,” I said, and turned and walked back into the house. He couldn’t see my tears.

I sought out Matt and clung to him for a long time.

“Sophie?” Matt asked.

“What?”

“Do you think we will still love each other when we are as old as our parents?”

“Hard to tell, the brain ceases to work at that age,” I said, and he chuckled.

“Do you think we’ll get married?”

“Matt, I don’t know. I’m only fifteen; you’re my first boyfriend, so there is so much time.”

“I can’t imagine life without you.”

“I don’t think you’ve tried very hard.”

“I have. And life without you seems a very cold and desolate place.”

“Aw, poor baby. Come here, and let me kiss you better.”

Needless to say, that was the end of that conversation.
 

*          *          *
 
Eventually we all went to bed, (no, not together) but I lay awake for ages. There was a knock on my door, so I went and opened it. I had half-expected Matt, but it was Daddy.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

I went back to bed, and he sat next to me.

“Good party,” he said.

I nodded.

“Sean was on good form.”

I nodded again.

“You told him?”

“He knew. From the moment he saw me, he knew.”

“How?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, so I told him.”

“Everything?”

“No, just the bits about him.”

He looked at me and took my hand.

“He loved you?”

I nodded. “I loved him a little too,” I admitted.

“Was it hard?”

I nodded once more, feeling the tears weren’t far away.

“You did so well. I am so proud of you,” he said, giving me a big cuddle.

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“He still is very hunky.”

He smiled. “So?”

I shrugged.

“I just think he is still hunky. But then, so are you.”

“What about Matt?”

I smiled. “He’s the best.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, and kissed my cheek. “Thanks for being so strong.”

“I don’t feel strong, sometimes.”

“I know, I’m the same. But life is going to get better from now on.”

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“Are you and Anna going to have any kids?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Well, you love each other, and she is not quite a pensioner, so I thought you might.”

“We might.”

“Can I ask one thing?”

“What?”

“If you have a girl, please don’t call her Sophie.”

---

 
The End of this Bit